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THERE IS NO DEATH 
 
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 LIBRARY 
 
 Works by Florence Marry at 
 
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 Blindfold, - - - - - - 50 
 
 Brave Heart and True, - - 50 
 
 Mount Eden, 30 
 
 On Circumstantial Evidence, - 30 
 
 Risen Dead, The, • - - - 50 
 
 Scarlet Sin, A, - - - • 50 
 
 There Is No Death, - - - - 50 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH 
 
 BY 
 
 FLORENCE MARRYATT 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 love's CONPLICT," " VERONIQUE," ETC., ETC. 
 
 " There is no Death — what seems so is 
 transition. 
 This life of mortal breath 
 Is but a suburb of the Life Elysian 
 Whose portal we call Death."— Longfellow. 
 
 Ni;\V YORK 
 
 NATIONAL BOOK COMPANY 
 
 3, 4, 5 AND 6 MISSION PLACE 
 
Copyright, 1891, 
 
 BV 
 
 United States Book Comjakv 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 FAMILY GHOSTS. 
 
 It has been strongly impressed upon me for some years 
 past to write an account of the wonderful experiences I 
 have passed through in my investigation of the science 
 of Spiritualism, In doing so I intend to confine myself 
 to recording facts. I will describe the scenes I have wit- 
 nessed with my own eyes, and repeat the words I have 
 heard with my own ears, leaving the deduction to be drawn 
 from them wholly to my readers. I have no ambition to 
 start a theory nor to promulgate a doctrine ; above all 
 things I have no desire to provoke an argument, I have 
 had more than enough of arguments, philosophical, scien- 
 tific, religious, and purely aggressive, to last a lifetime ; 
 and were I called upon for my definition of the rest 
 promised to the weary, I should reply — a place where 
 every man may hold his own opinion, and no one is per- 
 mitted to dispute it. 
 
 But though I am about to record a great many incidents 
 that are so marvellous as to be almost incredible, I do not 
 expect to be disbelieved, except by such as are capable of 
 dece])tion themselves. They — conscious of their own 
 infirmity — invariably believe that other people must be 
 telling lies. Byron wrote, " He is a fool who denies that 
 
 183101 
 
6 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 which he cannot disprove ; " and though Carlyle gives us 
 the comforting assurance that the population of Great Bri- 
 tain consists " chiefly of fools," I pin my faith upon 
 receiving credence from the few who are not so. 
 
 Why should I be disbelieved? When the late Lady 
 Brassey published the " Cruise of the Stinbeam" and Sir 
 Samuel and Lady Baker related their experiences in Central 
 Africa, and Livingstone wrote his account of the wonders 
 he met with whilst engaged in the investigation of the 
 source of the Nile, and Henry Stanley followed up the 
 story and added thereto, did they anticipate the public 
 turning up its nose at their narrations, and declaring it did 
 not believe a word they had written? Yet their readers 
 had to accept the facts they offered for credence, on their 
 authority alone. Very few of them had even heard of the 
 places described before ; scarcely one in a thousand could, 
 either from personal experience or acquired knowledge, 
 attest the truth of the description. What was there — for 
 the benefit of the general public — to prove that the Sun- 
 beam had sailed round the world, or that Sir Samuel Baker 
 had met with the rare beasts, birds, and flowers he wrote 
 of, or that Livingstone and Stanley met and spoke with 
 those curious, unknown tribes that never saw white men 
 till they set eyes on them ? Yet had any one of those 
 writers affirmed that in his wanderings he had encountered 
 a gold field of undoubted excellence, thousands of fortune- 
 seekers would have left their native land on his word alone, 
 and rushed to secure some of the glittering treasure. 
 
 Why ? Because the authors of those books were persons 
 well known in society, who had a reputation for veracity to 
 maintain, and who would have been quickly found out 
 had they dared to deceive. I claim the same grounds for 
 obtaining belief. I have a well-known name and a public 
 reputation, a tolerable brain, and two sharp eyes. What I 
 have witnessed, others, with equal assiduity and perseve- 
 rance, may witness for themselves. It would demand a 
 voyage round the world to see all that the owners of the 
 Stinbeam saw. It would demand time and trouble and 
 money to see what I have seen, and to some people, per- 
 haps, it would not be worth the outlay. But if I have jour- 
 neyed into the Debateable Land(which so few really believe 
 in, and most are terribly afraid of), and come forward now 
 lo tell what I have seen there, the world has no more right 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 7 
 
 to disbelieve me than it had to disbelieve Lady Brassey. 
 Because the general public has not penetrated Central 
 Africa, is no reason that Livingstone did not do so; because 
 the general public has not seen (and does not care to see) 
 wliat I have seen, is no argument against the truth of what 
 I write. To those who do believe in the possibility of com- 
 munion with disembodied spirits, my story will be interest- 
 ing perhaps, on account of its dealing throughout in a 
 remarkable degree with the vexed question of identity and 
 recognition. To the materialistic portion of creation who 
 may credit me with not being a bigger fool than the remain- 
 der of the thirty-eight millions of Great Britain, it may 
 prove a new source of speculation and research. And for 
 those of my fellow-creatures who possess no curiosity, nor 
 imagination, nor desire to prove for themselves what they 
 cannot accept on the testimony of others, I never had, and 
 never shall have, anything in common. They are the sort 
 of people who ask you with a pleasing smile if Irving wrote 
 "The Charge of the Light Brigade," and say they like 
 Byron's " Sardanapalus " very well, but it is not so funny 
 as " Our Boys." 
 
 Now, before going to work in right earnest, I do not 
 think it is generally known that my father, the late Captain 
 Marryat, was not only a believer in ghosts, but himself a 
 ghost-seer. I am delighted to be able to record this fact 
 as an introduction to my own experiences. Perhaps the 
 ease with which such manifestations have come to me is a 
 gift which I inherit from him, anyway I am glad he shared 
 the belief and the power of spiritual sight with me. If there 
 were no other reason to make me bold to repeat what I 
 have witnessed, the circumstance would give me courage. 
 My father was not like his intimate friends, Charles Dick- 
 ens, Lord Lytton, and many other men of genius, highly 
 strung, nervous, and imaginative. I do not believe my 
 father had any " nerves," and I think he had very little 
 imagination. Almost all his works are founded on his per- 
 sonal experiences. His_/l?r/<? lay in a humorous descrip- 
 tion of what he had seen. He possessed a marvellous 
 power of putting his recollections into graphic and forcible 
 language, and the very reason that his books are almost as 
 popular to-day as when they were written, is because they 
 are true histories of their time. There is scarcely a line of 
 fiction in them. His body was as powerful and muscular 
 
8 . THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 as his brain. His courage was indomitable — his moral 
 courage as well as his physical (as many people remember 
 to their cost to this day), and his hardness of belief on 
 many subjects is no secret. What I am about to relate 
 therefore did not happen to some excitable, nervous, sickly 
 sentimentalist, and I repeat that I am proud to have in- 
 herited his constitutional tendencies, and quite willing to 
 stand judgment after him. 
 
 I have heard that my father had a number of stories to 
 relate of supernatural (as they are usually termed) inci- 
 dents that had occurred to him, but I will content myself 
 with relating such as were proved to be (at the least) very 
 remarkable coincidences. In my work, " The Life and 
 Letters of Captain Marryat," I relate an anecdote of him 
 that was entered in his private " log," and found amongst 
 his papers. He had a younger brother, Samuel, to whom 
 he was very much attached, and who died unexpectedly in 
 England whilst my father, in command of H. M. S. Lame, 
 was engaged in the first Burmese war. His men broke 
 out with scurvy and he was ordered to take his vessel over 
 to Pulu Pinang for a few weeks in order to get the sailors 
 fresh fruit and vegetables. As my father was lying in his 
 berth one night, anchored off the island, with the brilliant 
 tropical moonlight making everything as bright as day, he 
 saw the door of his cabin open, and his brother Samuel 
 entered and walked quietly up to his side. He looked just 
 the same as when they had parted, and uttered in a per- 
 fectly distinct voice, " Fred ! I have come to tell you that 
 I am dead ! " When the figure entered the cabin my father 
 jumped up in his berth, thinking it was some one coming 
 to rob him, and when he saw who it was and heard it speak, 
 he leaped out of bed with the intention of detaining it, but 
 it was gone. So vivid was the impression made upon him 
 by the apparition that he drew out his log at once and 
 wrote down all particulars concerning it, with the hour and 
 day of its appearance. On reaching England after the war 
 was over, the first dispatches put into his hand were to 
 announce the death of his brother, who had passed away at 
 the very hour when he had seen him in the cabin. 
 
 But the story that interests me most is one of an incident 
 which occurred to my father during my lifetime, and which 
 we have always called " The Brown Lady of Rainham." 
 I am aware that this narrative has reached the public 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 9 
 
 through other sources, and I have made it the foundation 
 of a Christmas story myself. But it is too well authenti- 
 cated to be omitted here. The last fifteen years of my 
 father's life were passed on his own estate of Langham, in 
 Norfolk, and amongst his county friends were Sir Charles 
 and Lady Townshend of Rainham Hall, At the time I 
 speak of, the title and property had lately changed hands, 
 and the new baronet had re-papered, painted, and fur- 
 nished the Hall throughout, and come down with his wife 
 and a large party of friends to take possession. But to 
 their annoyance, soon after their arrival, rumors arose that 
 the house was haunted, and their guests began, one and 
 all (like those in the parable), to make excuses to go home 
 again. Sir Charles and Lady Townshend might have 
 sung, " Friend after friend departs," with due effect, but it 
 would have had none on the general exodus that took place 
 from Rainham. And it was all on account of a Brown 
 Lady, whose portrait hung in one of the bedrooms, and in 
 which she was represented as wearing a brown satin dress 
 with yellow trimmings, and a rulT around her throat — a 
 very harmless, innocent-looking young woman. But they 
 all declared they had seen her walking about the house — 
 some in the corriddr, some in their bedrooms, others in the 
 lower premises, and neither guests nor servants would 
 remain in the Hall. The baronet was naturally very much 
 annoyed about it, and confided his trouble to my father, 
 and my father was indignant at the trick he believed had 
 been played upon him. There was a great deal of smug- 
 gling and poaching in Norfolk at that period, as he knew 
 well, being a magistrate of the county, and he felt sure that 
 some of these depredators were trying to frighten the 
 Townshends away from the Hall again. The last baronet 
 had been a solitary sort of being, and lead a retired life, 
 and my father imagined some of the tenantry had their own 
 reasons for not liking the introduction of revelries and 
 " high jinks " at Rainham. So he asked his friends to let 
 him stay with them and sleep in the haunted chamber, and 
 he felt sure he could rid them of the nuisance. They 
 accepted his offer, and he took possession of the room in 
 which the portrait of the apparition hung, and in which she 
 had been often seen, and slept each night with a loaded 
 revolver under his pillow. For two days, however, he saw 
 nothing, and the third was to be the limit of his stay. On 
 
lo THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 the third night, however, two young men (nephews of the 
 baronet) knocked at his door as he was undressing to go to 
 bed, and asked him to step over to their room (which was 
 at the other end of the corridor), and give tliem his opinion 
 on a new gun just arrived from London. My father was 
 in his shirt and trousers, but as the hour was late, and 
 everybody had retired to rest except themselves, he pre- 
 pared to accompany them as he was. As they were leav- 
 ing the room, he caught up his revolver, " in case we meet 
 the Brown Lady," he said, laughing. When the inspection 
 of the gun was over, the young men in the same spirit 
 declared they would accompany my father back again, " in 
 case you meet the Brown Lady," th?y repeated, laughing 
 also. The three gentlemen therefore returned in com- 
 pany. 
 
 The corridor was long and dark, for the lights had been 
 extinguished, but as they reached the middle of it, they 
 saw the glimmer of a lamp coming towards them from the 
 other end. " One of the ladies going to visit the nurseries," 
 whispered the young Townshends to my father. Now the 
 bedroom doors in that corridor faced each other, and each 
 room had a double door with a space between, as is the 
 case in many old-fashioned country houses. My father (as 
 I have said) was in a shirt and trousers only, and his native 
 modesty made him feel uncomfortable, so he slipped within 
 one of the otcter doors (his friends following his example), 
 in order to conceal himself until the lady should have 
 passed by. I have heard him describe how he watched 
 her approaching nearer and nearer, through the chink of 
 the door, until, as she was close enough for him to distin- 
 guish the colors and style of her costume, he recognized 
 the figure as the facsimile of the portrait of " The Brown 
 Lady." He had his finger on the trigger of his revolver, 
 and was about to demand it to stop and give the reason 
 for its presence there, when the figure halted of its own 
 accord before the door behind which he stood, and holding 
 the lighted lamp she carried to her features, grinned in a 
 malicious and diabolical manner at him. This act so in- 
 furiated my father, who was anything but lamb-like in dis- 
 position, that he sprang into the corridor with a bound, 
 and discharged the revolver right in her face. The figure 
 instantly disappeared — the figure at which for the space of 
 several minutes Mr<?<? men had been looking together — and 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 1 1 
 
 the bullet passed through the outer door of the room on 
 the opposite side of the corridor, and lodged in the panel 
 of the inner one. My father never attempted again to in- 
 terfere with "The Brown Lady of Rainham," and I have 
 heard that she haunts the premises to this day. That she 
 did so at that time, however, there is no shadow of doubt. 
 
 But Captain Marryat not only held these views and 
 believed in them from personal experience — he promulgated 
 them in his writings. There are many passages in his works 
 which, read by the light of my assertion, prove that he had 
 faith in the possibility of the departed returning to visit 
 this earth, and in the theory of re-incarnation or living more 
 than one life upon it, but nowhere does he speak more 
 plainly than in the following extract from the " Phantom 
 Ship " :— 
 
 " Think you, PhiHp " (says Amine to her husband), 
 " that this world is solely peopled by such dross as we 
 are ? — things of clay, perishable and corruptible, lords over 
 beasts and ourselves, but little better? Have you not, 
 from your own sacred writings, repeated acknowledgments 
 and proofs of higher intelligences, mixing up with mankind, 
 and acting here below ? Why should what was then not be 
 now, and what more harm is there to apply for their aid 
 now than a few thousand years ago ? Why should you 
 suppose that they were permitted on the earth then and 
 not permitted now? What has become of them? Have 
 they perished ? Have they been ordered back ? to where ? 
 — to heaven ? If to heaven, the world and mankind have 
 been left to the mercy of the devil and his agents. Do 
 you suppose that we poor mortals have been thus aban- 
 doned ? I tell you plainly, I think not. We no longer 
 have the communication with those intelligences that we 
 once had, because as we become more enlightened we be- 
 come more proud and seek them not, but that they still 
 exist a host of good against a host of evil, invisibly oppos- 
 ing each other, is my conviction." 
 
 One testimony to such a belief, from the lips of my 
 father, is sufficient. He would not have written it unless 
 he had been prepared to maintain it. He was not one of 
 those wretched literary cowards who we meet but too often 
 now-a-days, who are too much afraid of the world to con- 
 fess with their mouths the opinions they hold in their 
 hearts. Had he lived to this time I believe he would havq 
 
12 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 been one of the most energetic and outspoken believers in 
 Spiritualism that we possess. So much, however, for his 
 testimony to the possibility of spirits, good and evil, revisit- 
 ing this earth. I think itvj will be found to gainsay the 
 assertion that where he trod, his daughter need not be 
 ashamed to follow. 
 
 Before the question of Spiritualism, however, arose in 
 modern times, I had had my own little private experiences 
 on the subject. From an early age I was accustomed to 
 see, and to be very much alarmed at seeing, certain forms 
 that appeared to me at night. One in particular, I remem- 
 ber, was thatof a very short or deformed old woman, who 
 was very constant to me. She used to stand on tiptoe to 
 look at me as I lay in bed, and however dark the room 
 might be, I could always see every article in it, as if illu- 
 minated, whilst she remained there. 
 
 I was in the habit of communicating these visions to my 
 mother and sisters (my father had passed from us by that 
 time), and always got well ridiculed for my pains. 
 " Another of Flo's optical illusions," they would cry, until 
 I really came to think that the appearances I saw were 
 due to some defect in my eye-sight. I have heard my first 
 husband say, that when he married me he thought he 
 should never rest for an entire night in his bed, so often 
 did I wake him with the description of some man or woman 
 I had seen in the room. I recall these figures distinctly. 
 They were always dressed in white, from which circum- 
 stance I imagined that they were natives who had stolen in 
 to rob us, until, from repeated observation, I discovered 
 they only formed part of another and more enlarged series 
 of my '* optical illusions." All this time I was very much 
 afraid of seeing what I termed " ghosts." No love of occult 
 science led me to investigate the cause of my alarm. I 
 only wished never to see the " illusions " again, and was 
 too frightened to remain by myself lest they should appear 
 to me. 
 
 When I had been married for about two years, the 
 head-quarters of my husband's regiment, the 12th Madras 
 Native Infantry, was ordered to Rangoon, whilst the left 
 wing, commanded by a Major Cooper, was sent to assist 
 in the bombardment of Canton. Major Cooper had only 
 been married a short time, and by rights his wife had no 
 claim to sail with the head-quarters for Burmah, but as she 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 13 
 
 had no friends in Madras, and was moreover expecting 
 her confinement, our colonel permitted her to do so, and 
 she accompanied us to Rangoon, settling herself in a 
 house not far from our own. One morning, early in July, 
 I was startled by receiving a hurried scrawl from her, con- 
 taining only these words, " Come ! come ! come ! " I set 
 off at once, thinking she had been taken ill, but on my 
 arrival I found Mrs. Cooper sitting up in bed with only 
 her usual servants about her. " What is the matter ? " I 
 exclaimed. " Mark is dead," she answered me ; " he sat 
 in that chair " (pointing to one by the bedside) " all last 
 night. I noticed every detail of his face and figure. He 
 was in undress, and he never raised his eyes, but sat with 
 the peak of his forage cap pulled down over his face. But 
 I could see the back of his head and his hair, and I know 
 it was he. I spoke to him but he did not answer me, and 
 I am sure he is dead." 
 
 Naturally, I imagined this vision to have been dictated 
 solely by fear and the state of her health. I laughed at 
 her for a simpleton, and told her it was nothing but fancy, 
 and reminded her that by the last accounts received from 
 the seat of war. Major Cooper was perfectly well and anti- 
 cipating a speedy reunion with her. Laugh as I would, 
 however, I could not laugh her out of her belief, and see- 
 ing how low-spirited she was, I offered to pass the night 
 with her. It was a very nice night indeed. As soon as 
 ever we had retired to bed, although a lamp burned in the 
 room, Mrs. Cooper declared that her husband was sitting 
 in the same chair as the night before, and accused me of 
 deception when I declared that I saw nothing at all. I 
 sat up in bed and strained my eyes, but I could discern 
 nothing but an empty arm-chair, and told her so. She 
 persisted that Major Cooper sat there, and described his 
 personal appearance and actions. I got out of bed and 
 sat in the chair, when she cried out, " Don't, don't ! You 
 are sitting ri^ht on hivi /" It was evident that the ap- 
 parition was as real to her as if it had been flesh and 
 blood. I jumped up again fast enough, not feeling very 
 comfortable myself, and lay by her side for the remainder 
 of the night, listening to her asseverations that Major 
 Cooper was either dying or dead. She would not part with 
 me, and on the third njght I had to endure the same ordeal 
 as on the second. After the third night the apparition 
 
14 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 ceased to appear to her, and I was permitted to return 
 home. But before I did so, Mrs. Cooper showed me her 
 pocket-book, in which she had written down against the 
 8th, pth, and loth of July this sentence : " Mark sat by my 
 bedside all night." 
 
 The time passed on, and no bad news arrived from 
 China, but the mails had been intercepted and postal 
 communication suspended. Occasionally, however, we 
 received letters by a sailing vessel. At last came Septem- 
 ber, and on the third of that month Mrs. Cooper's baby 
 was born and died. She was naturally in great distress 
 about it, and I was doubly horrified when I was called 
 from her bedside to receive the news of her husband's 
 death, which had taken place from a sudden attack of fever 
 at Macao. We did not intend to let Mrs. Cooper hear of 
 this until she was convalescent, but as soon as I re-entered 
 her room she broached the subject. 
 
 "Are there any letters from China? " she asked, (Now 
 this question was remarkable in itself, because the mails 
 having been cut off, there was no particular date when 
 letters might be expected to arrive from the seat of war.) 
 Fearing she would insist upon hearing the news, I tempor- 
 ized and answered her, " We have received none." " But 
 there is a letter for me," she continued : " a letter with 
 the intelligence of Mark's death. It is useless denying it. 
 I know he is dead. He died on the loth of July." And 
 on reference to the official memorandum, this was found to 
 be true. Major Cooper had been taken ill on the first day 
 he had appeared to his wife, and died on the third. And 
 this incident was the more remarkable, because they were 
 neither of them young nor sentimental people, neither had 
 they lived long enough together to form any very strong 
 sympathy or accord between them. But as I have related 
 it, so it occurred. 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH, 15 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 MY FIRST SEANCE. 
 
 I HAD returned from India and spent several years in 
 England before the subject of Modern Spiritualism was 
 brought under my immediate notice. Cursorily I had 
 heard it mentioned by some people as a dreadfully wicked 
 thing, diabolical to the last degree, by others as a most 
 amusing pastime for evening parties, or when one wanted 
 to get some " fun out of the table." But neither descrip- 
 tion charmed me, nor tempted me to pursue the occupa- 
 tion. I had already lost too many friends. Spiritualism 
 (so it seemed to me) must either be humbug or a very 
 solemn thing, and I neither wished to trifle with it or to be 
 trifled with by it. And after twenty years' continued ex- 
 perience I hold the same opinion. I have proved Spirit- 
 ualism not to be humbug, therefore I regard it in a sacred 
 light. For, from whatever cause it may proceed, it opens 
 a vast area for thought to any speculative mind, and it is 
 a matter of constant surprise to me to see the indifference 
 with which the world regards it. That it exists is an un- 
 deniable fact. Men of science have acknowledged it, and 
 the churches cannot deny it. The only question appears to 
 be, " What is it, and whe?ice does the power proceed ? " 
 If (as many clever people assert) from ourselves, then 
 must these bodies and minds of ours possess faculties 
 hitherto undreamed of, and which we have allowed to lie 
 culpably fallow. If our bodies contain magnetic forces 
 sufficient to raise substantial and apparently living forms 
 from the bare earth, which our eyes are clairvoyant 
 enough to see, and which can articulate words which our 
 ears are clairaudient enough to hear — if, in addition to 
 this, our minds can read each other's inmost thoughts, can 
 see what is passing at a distance, and foretell what will 
 happen in the future, then are our human powers greater 
 than we have ever imagined, and we ought to do a great 
 deal more with them than we do. And even regarding 
 
i6 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 Spiritualism (xomthat point of view, I cannot understand 
 the lack of interest displayed in the discovery, to turn 
 these marvellous powers of the human mind to greater 
 account. 
 
 To discuss it, however, from the usual meaning given to 
 the word, namely, as a means of communication with the 
 departed, leaves me as puzzled as before. All Christians 
 acknowledge they have spirits independent of their bodies, 
 and that when their bodies die, their spirits will continue 
 to live on. Wherein, then, lies the terror of the idea that 
 these liberated spirits will have the privilege of roaming 
 the universe as they will ? And if they argue the hnpossi- 
 bility of their return, they deny the records which form 
 the only basis of their religion. No greater proof can be 
 brought forward of the truth of Spiritualism than the truth 
 of the Bible, which teems and bristles with accounts of it 
 from beginning to end. From the period when the Lord 
 God walked with Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden, 
 and the angels came to Abram's tent, and pulled Lot out 
 of the doomed city ; when the witch of Endor raised up 
 Samuel, and Balaam's ass spoke, and Ezekiel wrote that 
 the hair of his head stood up because "a spirit" passed 
 before him, to the presence of Satan with Jesus in the 
 desert, and the reappearance of Moses and Elias, the 
 resurrection of Christ Himself, and His talking and eating 
 with His disciples, and the final account of John being 
 caught up to Heaven to receive the Revelations — all is 
 Spiritualism^ and nothing else. The Protestant Church 
 that pins its faith upon the Bible, and nothing but the 
 Bible, cannot deny that the spirits of mortal men have re- 
 appeared and been recognized upon this earth, as when 
 the graves opened at the time of the Christ'? crucifixion, 
 and " many bodies of those that were dead arose and went 
 into the city, and were seen of many." The Catholic 
 Church does not attempt to deny it. AH her legends and 
 miracles (which are disbelieved and ridiculed by the Pro- 
 testants aforesaid) are founded on the same truth — the 
 miraculous or supernatural return (as it is styled) of those 
 who are gone, though I hope to make my readers believe, 
 as I do, that there is nothing miraculous in it, and far from 
 being superm-ixxraX it is only a continuation of Nature. 
 Putting the churches and the Bible, however, on one side, 
 the History of Nations proves it to be possible. There is 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. tf 
 
 not a people on the face of the globe that has not its 
 (so-called) superstitions, nor a family hardly, which has 
 not experienced some proofs of spiritual communion with 
 earth. Where learning and science have thrust all belief 
 out of sight, it is only natural that the man who does not 
 believe in a God nor a Hereafter should not credit the 
 existence of spirits, nor the possibility of communicating 
 with them. But the lower we go in the scale of society, 
 the more simple and childlike the mind, the more readily 
 does such a faith gain credence, and the more stories you 
 will hear to justify belief. It is just the same with religion, 
 which is hid from the wise and prudent, and revealed to 
 babes. 
 
 If I am met here with the objection that the term " Spi- 
 ritualism " has been at times mixed up with so much that 
 is evil as to become an offence, I have no better answer to 
 make than by turning to the irrefragable testimony of the 
 Past and Present to prove that in all ages, and of all reli- 
 gions, there have been corrupt and demoralized exponents 
 whose vices have threatened to pull down the fabric they 
 lived to raise. Christianity itself would have been over- 
 thrown before now, had we been unable to separate its 
 doctrine from its practice. 
 
 I held these views in the month of February, 1873, when 
 I made one of a party of friends assembled at the house of 
 Miss Elizabeth Philip, in Gloucester Crescent, and was 
 introduced to Mr. Henry Dunphy of the Morning Fost, 
 both of them since gone to join the great majority. Mr. 
 Dunphy soon got astride of his favorite hobby of Spiritual- 
 ism, and gave me an interesting account of some of the 
 seances he had attended. I had heard so many clever men 
 and women discuss the subject before, that I had begun to 
 believe on their authority that there must be " something 
 in it," but I held the opinion that sittings in the dark must 
 afford so much liberty for deception, that I would engage 
 in none where I was not permitted the use of my eye- 
 sight. 
 
 I expressed myself somewhat after this fashion to Mr. 
 Dunphy. He replied, "Then the time has arrived for you 
 to investigate Spiritualism, for I can introduce you to a 
 medium who will show you the faces of the dead." This 
 proposal exactly met my wishes, and I gladly accepted it. 
 Annie Thomas (Mrs. Pender Cudlip,) the novelist, who is 
 
 2 
 
1 8 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 an intimate friend of mine, was staying with me at the time 
 and became as eager as I was to investigate the phenomena. 
 We took the address Mr. Dunphy gave us of Mrs. Hohnes, 
 the American medium, then visiting London, and lodging 
 in Old Quebec Street, Portman Square, but we refused his 
 introduction, preferring to go iftcognito. Accordingly, the 
 next evening, when she held a public seance, we presented 
 ourselves at Mrs. Holmes' door ; and having first removed 
 our wedding-rings, and tried to look as virginal as possible, 
 sent up our names as Miss Taylor and Miss Turner. I am 
 perfectly aware that this medium was said afterwards to be 
 untrustworthy. So may a servant who was perfectly 
 honest, whilst in my service, leave me for a situation where 
 she is detected in theft. That does not alter the fact that 
 she stole nothing from me. I do not think I know a single 
 medium of whom I have nor (at some time or other) heard 
 the same thing, and I do not think I know a single woman 
 whom I have not also, at some time or other, heard scan- 
 dalized by her own sex, however pure and chaste she may 
 imagine the world holds her. The question affects me in 
 neither case. I value my acquaintances for what they are 
 to me, not for what they may be to others; and I have 
 placed trust in my media from what I individually have 
 seen and heard, and proved to be genuine in their presence, 
 and not from what others may imagine they have found 
 out about them. It is no detriment to my witness that the 
 media I sat with cheated somebody else, either before or 
 after. My business was only to take care that / was not 
 cheated, and I have never, in Spiritualism, accepted any- 
 thing at the hands of others that I could not prove for my- 
 self. 
 
 Mrs. Holmes did not receive us very graciously on the 
 present occasion. We were strangers to her — probably 
 sceptics, and she eyed us rather coldly. It was a bitter 
 night, and the snow lay so thick upon the ground that we 
 had some difficulty in procuring a hansom to take us from 
 Bayswater to Ola Quebec Street. No other visitors arrived, 
 and after a little while Mrs. Holmes offered to return our 
 money (ten shillings), as she said if she did sit with us, 
 there would probably be no manifestations on account of 
 the inclemency of the weather. (Often since then I have 
 proved her assertion to be true, and found that any 
 extreme of heat or cold is liable to make a seance a dead 
 failure). 
 
THERE IS KO DEATIL tg 
 
 But Annie Thomas had to return to her home in Tor- 
 quay on the following day, and so we begged the medium 
 to try at least to show us something, as we were very 
 curious on the subject. I am not quite sure what I ex- 
 pected or hoped for on this occasion. I was full of curiosity 
 and anticipation, but I am sure that I never thought I 
 should see any face which I could recognize as having been 
 on earth. We waited till nine o'clock in hopes that a circle 
 would be formed; but as no one else came, Mrs. Holmes 
 consented to sit with us alone, warning us, however, several 
 times to prepare for a disappointment. The lights were 
 therefore extinguished, and we sat for the usual preliminary 
 dark seance^ which was good, perhaps, but has nothing to 
 do with a narrative of facts, proved to be so. When it 
 concluded, the gas was re-Ht and we sat for " Spirit 
 Faces." 
 
 There were two small rooms connected by folding doors. 
 Annie Thomas and I, were asked to go into the back room 
 — to lock the door communicating with the landings, and 
 secure it with our own seal, stamped upon a piece of tape 
 stretched across the opening — to examine the window and 
 bar the shutter inside — to search the room thoroughly, in 
 fact, to see that no one was concealed in it — and we did 
 all this as a matter of business. When we had satisfied 
 ourselves that no one could enter from the back, Mr. and 
 Mrs. Holmes, Annie Thomas, and I were seated on four 
 chairs in the front room, arranged in a row before the fold- 
 ing doors, which were opened, and a square of black calico 
 fastened across the aperture from one wall to the other. In 
 this piece of calico was cut a square hole about the size of 
 an ordinary window, at which we were told the spirit faces 
 (if any) would appear. There was no singing, nor noise of 
 any sort made to drown the sounds of preparation, and we 
 could have heard even a rustle in the next room. Mr. and 
 Mrs. Holmes talked to us of their various experiences, 
 until, we were almost tired of waiting, when something 
 white and indistinct like a cloud of tobacco smoke, or a 
 bundle of gossamer, appeared and disappeared again. 
 
 " They are coming ! I am glad 1 " said Mrs. Holmes. " I 
 didn't think we should get anything to-night," — and my 
 friend and I were immediately on the tiptoe of expectation. 
 The white mass advanced and retreated several times, and 
 finally settled before the aperture and opened in the mid- 
 
20 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 die, when a female face was distinctly to be seen above the 
 black calico. What was our amazement to recognize the 
 features of Mrs. Thomas, Annie Thomas' mother. Here I 
 should tell my readers that Annie's father, who was a lieu- 
 tenant in the Royal Navy and captain of the coastguard at 
 Morston in Norfolk, had been a near neighbor and great 
 friend of my father. Captain Marryat, and their children 
 had associated like brothers and sisters. I had therefore 
 known Mrs. Thomas well, and recognized her at once, as, 
 of course, did her daughter. The witness of two people is 
 considered sufficient in law. It ought to be accepted by 
 society. Poor Annie was very much affected, and talked to 
 her mother in the most incoherent manner. The spirit did 
 not appear able to answer in words, but she bowed her 
 head or shook it, according as she wished to say "yes " or 
 " no." I could not help feeling awed at the appearance of 
 the dear old lady, but the only thing that puzzled me was 
 the cap she wore, which was made of white net, quilled 
 closely round her face, and unlike any I had ever seen her 
 wear in life. I whispered this to Annie, and she replied 
 at once, " It is the cap she was buried in," which settled 
 the question. Mrs. Thomas had possessed a very pleasant 
 but very uncommon looking face, with bright black eyes, 
 and a complexion of pink and white like that of a child. It 
 was some time before Annie could be persuaded to let her 
 mother go, but the next face that presented itself astonished 
 her quite as much, for she recognized it as that of Captain 
 Gordon, a gentleman whom she had known intimately and 
 for a length of time. I had never seen Captain Gordon in 
 the flesh, but I had heard of him, and knew he had died 
 from a sudden accident. All I saw was the head of a good- 
 looking, fair, young man, and not feeling any personal 
 interest in his appearance, I occupied the time during 
 which my friend conversed with him about olden days, by 
 minutely examining the working of the muscles of his 
 throat, which undeniably stretched when his head moved. 
 As I was doing so, he leaned forward, and I saw a dark 
 stain, which looked like a clot of blood, on his fair hair, on 
 the left side of the forehead. 
 
 " Annie ! what did Captain Gordon die of? " I asked. 
 ** He fell from a railway carriage," she replied, " and struck 
 his head upon the line." I then pointed out to her the 
 blood upon his hair. Several other faces appeared, which 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 21 
 
 we could not recognize. At last came one of a gentleman, 
 apparently moulded like a bust in plaster of Paris. He had 
 a kind of smoking cap upon the head, curly hair, and a 
 beard, but from being perfectly colorless, he looked so un- 
 like nature, that I could not trace a resemblance to any 
 friend of mine, though he kept on bowing in my direction, 
 to indicate that I knew, or had known him. I examined 
 this face again and again in vain. Nothing in it struck me 
 as familiar, until the mouth broke into a grave, amused 
 smile at my perplexity. In a moment I recognized it as 
 that of my dear old friend, John Powles, whose history I 
 shall relate inextenso further on. I exclaimed "Powles," 
 and sprang towards it, but with my hasty action the figure 
 disappeared. I was terribly vexed at my imprudence, for 
 this was the friend of all others I desired to see, and sat 
 there, hoping and praying the spirit would return, but it did 
 not. Annie Thomas' mother and friend both came back 
 several times ; indeed, Annie recalled Captain Gordon so 
 often, that on his last appearance the power was so ex- 
 hausted, his face looked like a faded sketch in water-colors, 
 but " Powles " had vanished altogether. The last face we 
 saw that night was that of a little girl, and only her eyes 
 and nose were visible, the rest of her head and face being 
 enveloped in some white flimsy material like muslin. Mrs. 
 Holmes asked her for whom she came, and she intimated 
 that it was for me. I said she must be mistaken, and that 
 I had known no one in life like her. The medium ques- 
 tioned her very closely, and tried to put her "out of court," 
 as it were. Still, the child persisted that she came for 
 me. Mrs. Holmes said to me, " Cannot you remember 
 anyone of that age connected with you in the spirit 
 world ? No cousin, nor niece, nor sister, nor the child of 
 a friend ? " I tried to remember, but I could not, and 
 answered, " No ! no child of that age." She then addressed 
 the little spirit. " You have made a mistake. There is no 
 one here who knows you. You had better move on." So 
 the child did move on, but very slowly and reluctantly. I 
 could read her disappointment in her eyes, and after she 
 had disappeared, she peeped round the corner again and 
 looked at me, longingly. This was " Florence," my dear 
 lost child (as I then called her), who had left me as a little 
 infant of ten days old, and whom I could not at first recog- 
 nize as a young girl of ten years. Her identity, however, 
 
22 THERE IS 1^0 DEATH. 
 
 has been proved to me since, beyond all doubt, as will be 
 seen in the chapter which relates my reunion with her, and 
 is headed " My Spirit Child." Thus ended the first seance 
 at which I ever assisted, and it made a powerful impression 
 upon my mind. Mrs. Holmes, in bidding us good-night, 
 said, " You two ladies must be very powerful mediums. I 
 never held so successful a seance with strangers in my life 
 before." This news elated us — we were eager to pursue 
 our investigations, and were enchanted to think we could 
 have seances at home, and as soon as Annie Thomas took 
 up her residence in London, we agreed to hold regular 
 meetings for the purpose. This was the seance that made 
 me a student of the psychological phenomena, which the 
 men of the nineteenth century term Spiritualism. Had it 
 turned out a failure, I might now have been as most men 
 are. Qtiien sabe ? As it was, it incited me to go on and on, 
 until I have seen and heard things which at that moment 
 would have seemed utterly impossible to me. And I would 
 not have missed the experience I have passed through for 
 all the good this world could offer me 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH, 23 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 CURIOUS COINCIDENCES. 
 
 Before I proceed to write down the results of my private 
 and premeditated investigations, I am reminded to say a 
 word respecting the permission I received for the pursuit 
 of Spiritualism. As soon as I expressed my curiosity on 
 the subject, I was met on all sides with the objection that, 
 as I am a Catholic, I could not possibly have anything to 
 do with the matter, and it is a fact that the Church strictly 
 forbids all meddling with necromancy, or communion with 
 the departed. Necromancy is a terrible word, is it not? 
 especially to such people as do not understand its meaning, 
 and only associate it with the dead of night and charmed 
 circles, and seething caldrons, and the arch fiend, in 
 propria persona, with two horns and a tail. Yet it seems 
 strange to me that the Catholic Church, whose very doc- 
 trine is overlaid with Spiritualism, and who makes it a 
 matter of belief that the Saints hear and help us in our 
 prayers and the daily actionsof our lives, and recommends 
 our kissing the ground every morning at the feet of our 
 guardian angel, should consider it unlawful for us to com- 
 municate with our departed relatives. I cannot see the 
 difference in iniquity between speaking to John Powles, 
 who was and is a dear and trusted friend of mine, and 
 Saint Peter of Alcantara, who is an old man whom I never 
 saw in this life. They were both men, both mortal, and 
 are both spirits. Again, surely my mother who was a 
 pious woman all her life, and is now in the other world, 
 would be just as likely to take an interest in my welfare, 
 and to try and promote the prospect of our future meeting, 
 as Saint Veronica Guiliani, who is my patron. Yet were 
 I to spend half my time in prayer before Saint Veronica's 
 altar, asking her help and guidance, I should be doing 
 right (according to the Church), but if I did the same thing 
 at my mother's grave, or spoke to her at a seance, I should 
 be doing wrong. These distinctions without a difference 
 
34 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 were hard nuls to crack, and I was bound to settle the 
 matter with my conscience before I went on with my 
 investigations. 
 
 It is a fact that I have met quite as many Catholics as 
 Protestants (especially of the higher classes) amongst the 
 investigators of Spiritualism, and I have not been surprised 
 at it, for who could better understand and appreciate the 
 beauty of communications from the spirit world than mem- 
 bers of that Church which instructs us to believe in the 
 communion of saints, as an ever-present, though invisible 
 mystery. Whether my Catholic acquaintances had received 
 permission to attend seances or not, was no concern of 
 mine, but I took good care to procure it for myself, and I 
 record it here, because rumors have constantly reached me 
 of people having said behind my back that I can be " no 
 Catholic " because I am a spiritualist. 
 
 My director at that time was Father Dalgairn, of the 
 Oratory at Brompton, and it was to him I took my diffi- 
 culty. I was a very constant press writer and reviewer, 
 and to be unable to attend and report on spiritualistic 
 meetings would have seriously militated against my pro- 
 fessional interests. I represented this to the Father, and 
 (although under protest) I received his permission to pur- 
 sue the research in the cause of science. He did more than 
 ease my conscience. He became interested in what I had 
 to tell him on the subject, and we had many conversations 
 concerning it. He also lent me from his own library the 
 lives of such saints as had heard voices and seen visions, 
 of those in fact who (like myself) had been the victims of 
 "Optical Illusions." Amongst these I found the case of 
 Saint Anne-Catherine of Emmerich, so like my own, that I 
 began to think that I too might turn out to be a saint in 
 disguise. It has not come to pass yet, but there is no know- 
 ing what may happen. 
 
 She used to see the spirits floating beside her as she 
 walked to mass, and heard them asking her to pray for them 
 as they pointed to " les taches sur leurs robes." The musical 
 instruments used to play without hands in her presence, 
 and voices from invisible throats sound in her ears, as they 
 have done in mine. I have only inserted this clause, how- 
 ever, for the satisfaction of those Catholic acquaintances 
 with whom I have sat at seances^ and who will probably be 
 the first to exclaim against the publication of our joint ex- 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 25 
 
 periences. I trust they will acknowledge, after reading it, 
 that I am not worse than themselves, though I may be a 
 little bolder in avowing my opinions. 
 
 Before I began this chapter, I had an argument with 
 that friend of mine called Self (who has but too often wor- 
 sted me in the Battle of Life), as to whether I should say 
 anything about table-rapping or tilting. The very fact of 
 so common an article of furniture as a table, as an agent 
 of communication with the unseen world, has excited so 
 much ridicule and opens so wide a field for chicanery, tliat 
 I thought it would be wiser to drop the subject, and con- 
 fine myself to those phases of the science or art, or religion, 
 or whatever the reader may like to call it, that can be 
 explained or described on paper. The philosophers of the 
 nineteenth century have invented so many names for the 
 cause that makes a table turn round — tilt — or rap — that I 
 feel quite unable (not being a philosopher) to cope with 
 them. It is " magnetic force " or "psychic force," — it is 
 " unconscious cerebration " or " brain-reading " — and it is 
 exceedingly difficult to tell the outside world of the private 
 reasons that convince individuals that the answers they 
 receive are not emanations from their own brains. I shall 
 not attempt to refute their reasonings from their own 
 standpoint. I see the difficulties in the way, so much so 
 that I have persistently refused for many years past to sit 
 at the table with strangers, for it is only a lengthened study 
 of the matter that can possibly convince a person of its 
 truth. I cannot, however, see the extreme folly myself of 
 holding communication (under the circumstances) through 
 the raps or tilts of a table, or any other object. These tiny 
 indications of an influence ulterior to our own are not 
 necessarily confined to a table. I have received them 
 through a cardboard box, a gentleman's hat, a footstool, 
 the strings of a guitar, and on the back of my chair, even 
 on the pillow of my bed. And which, amongst the phil- 
 osophers I have alluded to, could suggest a simpler mode 
 of communication ? 
 
 I have put the question to clever men thus : " Suppose 
 yourself, after having been able to write and talk to me, 
 suddenly deprived of the powers of speech and touch, and 
 made invisible, so that we could not understand each other 
 by signs, wliat better means than by taps or tilts on any 
 article^ when the right word or letter is named, could you 
 think of by which to communicate with me ? " 
 
26 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 And my clever men have never been able to propose an 
 easier or more sensible plan, and if anybody can suggest 
 one, I should very much like to hear of it. The following 
 incidents all took place through the much-ridiculed tipping 
 of the table, but managed to knock some sense out of it 
 nevertheless. On looking over the note book which I 
 faithfully kept when we first held seances at home, I find 
 many tests of identity which took place through my own 
 mediumship, and which could not possibly have been the 
 effects of thought-reading. I devote this chapter to their 
 relation. I hope it will be observed with what admirable 
 caution I have headed it. I have a few drops of Scotch 
 blood in me by the mother's side, and I think they must 
 have aided me here. " Curious coincidences." Why, not 
 the most captious and unbelieving critic of them all can 
 find fault with so modest and unpretending a title. Every- 
 one believes in the occasional possibility of " curious coin- 
 cidences." 
 
 It was not until the month of June, 1873, that we formed 
 a home circle, and commenced regularly to sit together. 
 We became so interested in the pursuit, that we used to 
 sit every evening, and sometimes till three and four o'clock 
 in the morning, greatly to our detriment, both mental and 
 physical. We seldom sat alone, being generally joined by 
 two or three friends from outside, and the results were 
 sometimes very startling, as we were a strong circle. The 
 memoranda of these sittings, sometimes with one party and 
 sometimes with another, extend over a period of years, 
 but I shall restrict myself to relating a itw incidents that 
 were verified by subsequent events. 
 
 The means by which we communicated with the influ- 
 ences around us was the usual one. We sat round the 
 table and laid our hands upon it, and I (or anyone who 
 might be selected for the purpose) spelled over the alpha- 
 bet, and raps or tilts occurred when the desired letter was 
 reached. This in reality is not so tedious a process as it 
 may appear, and once used to it, one may get through a 
 vast amount of conversation in an hour by this means. A 
 medium is soon able to guess the word intended to be 
 spelt, for there are not so many after all in use in general 
 conversation. 
 
 Some one had come to our table on several occasions, 
 giving the name of" Valerie," but refusing to say any more, 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 27 
 
 so we thought she was an idle or frivolous spirit, and had 
 been in the habit of driving her away. One evening, on 
 the ist of July, however, our circle was augmented by 
 Mr. Henry Stacke, when " Valerie " was immediately 
 spelled out, and the following conversation ensued. INIr. 
 Stacke said to me, " Who is tliis ? " and I replied care- 
 lessly, " O ! she's a little devil ! She never has anything 
 to say." The table rocked violently at this, and the taps 
 spelled out. 
 
 " Je ne suis pas diable." 
 
 " Hullo ! Valerie, so you can talk now I For whom do 
 you come ? " 
 
 " Monsieur Stacke." 
 
 *' Where did you meet him ? " 
 
 " On the Continent." 
 
 " Whereabouts ? " 
 
 " Between Dijon and Ma^on." 
 
 '* How did you meet him ? " 
 
 " In a railway carriage." 
 
 " What where you doing there ? " 
 
 Here she relapsed into French, and said, 
 
 " Ce m'est impossible de dire." 
 
 At this juncture Mr. Stacke observed that he had never 
 been in a train between Dijon and Magon but once in his 
 life, and if the spirit was with him then, she must remem- 
 ber what was the matter with their fellow-passenger. 
 
 "Mais oui, oui — il etait fou," she replied, which proved 
 to be perfectly correct. Mr. Stacke also remembered that 
 two ladies in the same carriage had been terribly fright- 
 ened, and he had assisted them to get into another. 
 " Valerie " continued, " Priez pour moi." 
 
 " Pourquoi, Valerie ? " 
 
 " Parceque j'ai beaucoup peche." 
 
 There was an influence who frequented our society at 
 that time and called himself " Charlie." 
 
 He stated that his full name had been " Stephen Charles 
 Bernard Abbot," — that he had been a monk of great 
 literary attainments — that he had embraced the monastic 
 life in the reign of Queen Mary, and apostatized for politi- 
 cal reasons in that of Elizabeth, and been "earth bound " 
 in consequence ever since. 
 
 " Charlie " asked us to sing one night, and we struck up 
 the very vulgar refrain of " Champagne Charlie," to which 
 he greatly objected, asking for something more serious. 
 
28 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 I began, " Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon." 
 
 "Why, that's as bad as the other," said Cliarlie. "It 
 was a ribald and obscene song in the reign of Elizabeth. 
 The drunken roysterers used to sing it in the street as they 
 rolled home at night." 
 
 " You must be mistaken, Charlie ! It's a well-known 
 Scotch air." 
 
 " It's no more Scotch than I am," he replied. " The 
 Scotch say they invented everything. It's a tune of the 
 time of Elizabeth. Ask Brinley Richards." 
 
 Having the pleasure of the acquaintance of that gentle- 
 man, who was the great authority on the origin of National 
 Ballads, I applied to him for the information, and received 
 an answer to say that " Charlie " was right, but that Mr. 
 Richards had not been aware of the fact himself until he 
 had searched some old MSS. in the British Museum for the 
 purpose of ascertaining the truth. 
 
 I was giving a sitting once to an officer from Aldershot, 
 a cousin of my own, who was quite prepared to ridicule 
 every thing that took place. After having teased me into 
 giving him a seance, he began by cheating himself, and 
 then accused me of cheating him, and altogether tired out 
 my patience. At last I proposed a test, though with little 
 hope of success. 
 
 " Let us ask John Powles to go down to Aldershot," I 
 said, " and bring us word what your brother officers are 
 doing." 
 
 " O, yes ! by Jove ! Capital idea ! Here ! you fellow 
 Powles, cut off to the camp, will you, and go to the barracks 
 
 of the 84th, and let us know what Major R is doing." 
 
 The message came back in about three minutes. " Major 
 
 R has just come in from duty," spelt out Powles. 
 
 " He is sitting on the side of his bed, changing his uniform 
 trousers for a pair of grey tweed." 
 
 " I'm sure that's wrong," said my cousin, " because the 
 men are never called out at this time of the day." 
 
 It was then four o'clock, as we had been careful to ascer- 
 tain. My cousin returned to camp the same evening, and 
 the next day I received a note from him to say, " That 
 
 fellow Powles is a brick. It was quite right. R was 
 
 unexpectedly ordered to turn out his company yesterday 
 afternoon, and he returned to barracks and changed his 
 things for the grey tweed suit exactly at four o'clock." 
 
THERE IS MO DEATH. 29 
 
 But I have always found my friend Powles (when he w/// 
 condescend to do anything for strangers, which is seldom) 
 remarkably correct in detailing the thoughts and actions of 
 absentees, sometimes on the other side of the globe. 
 
 I went one afternoon to pay an ordinary social call on a 
 
 lady named Mrs. W . and found her engaged in an 
 
 earnest conversation on Spiritualism with a stout woman 
 and a commonplace man — two as material looking indi- 
 viduals as ever I saw, and who appeared all the more so 
 
 under a sultry August sun. As soon as Mrs. "W saw 
 
 me, she exclaimed, " O ! here is Mrs. Ross-Church. She 
 will tell you all about the spirits. Do, Mrs. Ross-Church, 
 sit down at the table and let us have a seance." 
 
 A seance on a burning, blazing afternoon in August, with 
 two stolid and uninteresting, and worse still, uninterested 
 
 looking strangers, who appeared to think Mrs. \Y had 
 
 a " bee in her bonnet." I protested — I reasoned — I pleaded 
 — all in vain. !My hostess continued to urge, and society 
 places the guest at the mercy of her hostess. So, in an evil 
 temper, I pulled off my gloves, and placed my hands indif- 
 ferently on the table. The following words were at once 
 rapped out — 
 
 " I am Edward G . Did you ever pay Johnson the 
 
 seventeen pounds twelve you received for my saddlery?" 
 
 The gentleman opposite to me turned all sorts of colors, 
 and began to stammer out a reply, whilst his wife looked 
 very confused. I asked the influence, " Who are you? " 
 It replied, " He knows ! His late colonel ! Why hasn't 
 Johnson received that money ? " This is what I call an 
 " awkward " coincidence, and I have had many such occur 
 through me — some that have driven acquaintances away 
 from the table, vowing vengeance against me, and racking 
 their brains to discover ivho had told me of their secret 
 peccadilloes. The gentleman in question (whose name 
 even I do not remember) confessed that the identity and 
 main points of the message were true, but he did not con- 
 fide to us whether Johnson had ever received that seven- 
 teen pounds twelve. 
 
 I had a beautiful English greyhound, called •' Clytie," a 
 gift from Annie Thomas to me, and this dog was given to 
 straying from my house in Colville Road, Bayswater, 
 which runs parallel to Portobello Road, a rather objection- 
 able quarter, composed of inferior shops, one of which, a 
 
30 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 fried fish shop, was an intolerable nuisance, and used to 
 fill the air around with its rich perfume. On one occasion 
 '' Clytie " stayed away from home so much longer than 
 usual, that I was afraid she was lost in good earnest, and 
 posted bills offering a reward for her. " Charlie " came to 
 the table that evening and said, *' Don't offer a reward for 
 the dog. Send for her." 
 
 " Where am I to send ? " I asked. 
 
 " She is tied up at the fried fish shop in Portobello Road. 
 Send the cook to see." 
 
 I told the servant in question that I had heard the grey- 
 hound was detained at the fish shop, and sent her to 
 inquire. She returned with '* Clytie." Her account was, 
 that on making inquiries, the man in the sliop had been 
 very insolent to her, and she had raised her voice in reply ; 
 that she had then heard and recognized the sharp, peculiar 
 bark of the greyhound from an upper storey, and, running 
 up before the man could prevent her, she had found 
 " Clytie " tied up to a bedstead with a piece of rope, and 
 had called in a policeman to enable her to take the dog 
 away. I have often heard the assertion that Spiritualism is 
 of no practical good, and, doubtless, it was never intended 
 to be so, but this incident was, at least, an exception to 
 the rule. 
 
 When abroad, on one occasion, I was asked by a Ca- 
 tholic Abbe to sit with him. He had never seen any 
 manifestations before, and he did not believe in them, but 
 he was curious on the subject. I knew nothing of him 
 further than that he was a priest, and a Jesuit, and a great 
 friend of my sister's, at whose house I was staying. He 
 spoke English, and the conversation was carried on in that 
 language. He had told me beforehand that if he could 
 receive a perfectly private test, that he should never doubt 
 the truth of the manifestations again. I left him, therefore, 
 to conduct the investigation entirely by himself, I acting 
 only as the medium between him and the infiuence. As 
 soon as the table moved he put his question direct, without 
 asking who was there to answer it. 
 
 " Where is my chasuble ? " 
 
 Now a priest's chasuble, / should have said, must be 
 either hanging in the sacristy or packed away at home, or 
 been sent away to be altered or mended. But the answer 
 was wide of all my speculations. 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 31 
 
 " At the bottom of the Red Sea." 
 
 The priest started, but continued — 
 
 Who put it there? " 
 
 " Elias Dodo." 
 
 "What was his object in doing so?" 
 
 " He found the parcel a burthen, and did not expect 
 any reward for delivering it." 
 
 The Abb6 really looked as if he had encountered the 
 devil. He wiped the perspiration from his forehead, and 
 put one more question. 
 
 " Of what was my chasuble made ? " 
 
 " Your sister's wedding dress." 
 
 The priest then explained to me that his sister had made 
 him a chasuble out of her wedding dress — one of the forms 
 of returning thanks in the Church, but that after a while it 
 became old fashioned, and the Bishop, going his rounds, 
 ordered him to get another. He did not like to throw 
 away his sister's gift, so he decided to send the old chasu- 
 ble to a priest in India, where they are very poor, and not 
 so particular as to fashion. He confided the packet to a 
 man called Elias Dodo, a sufficiently singular name, but 
 neither he nor the priest he sent it to had ever heard any- 
 thing more of the chasuble, or the man who promised to 
 deliver it. 
 
 A young artist of the name of Courtney was a visitor at 
 my house. He asked me to sit with him alone, when the 
 table began rapping out a number of consonants — a farrago 
 of nonsense, it appeared to me, and I stopped and said so. 
 But Mr. Courtney, who appeared much interested, begged 
 me to proceed. When the communication was finished, he 
 said to me, " This is the most wonderful thing I have ever 
 heard. My father has been at the table talking to me in 
 Welsh. He has told me our family motto, and all about 
 my birth-place and relations in Wales." I said, " I never 
 heard you were a Welshman." " Yes ! I am,'' he replied, 
 " my real name is Powell. I have only adopted the name 
 of "Courtney for professional purposes." 
 
 This was all news to me, but had it not been, I cannot 
 speak Welsh. 
 
 I could multiply such cases by the dozen, but that I fear 
 to tire my readers, added to which the majority of thera 
 were of so strictly private a nature that it would be impos- 
 sible to put them into print. This is perhaps the greatest 
 
32 THERE IS NO DEATH, 
 
 drawback that one encounters in trying to prove the truth 
 of Spiritualism. The best tests we receive are when the 
 very secrets of our hearts, which we have not confided to 
 our nearest friends, are revealed to us. I could relate (had 
 I the permission of the persons most interested) the parti- 
 culars of a well-known law suit, in which the requisite 
 evidence, and names and addresses of witnesses, were all 
 given though my mediumship, and were the cause of the 
 case being gained by the side that came to me for " infor- 
 mation." Some of the coincidences I have related in this 
 chapter might, however, be ascribed by the sceptical to 
 the mysterious and unknown power of brain reading, 
 whatever that may be, and however it may come, apart 
 from mediumship, but how is one to account for the facts 
 I shall tell you in my next chapter. 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 33 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 EMBODIED SPIRITS. 
 
 I WAS having a sitting one day in my own house with a 
 lady friend, named Miss Clark, when a female spirit came 
 to the table and spelt out the name " Tiny." 
 
 "Who are you?" I asked, "and for whom do you 
 come ? " 
 
 "I am a friend of Major M " (mentioning the full 
 
 name, " and I want your help." 
 
 " Are you any relation to Major I\I ? " 
 
 " I am the motiier of his child." 
 
 " What do you wish me to do for you ? " 
 
 " Tell him he must go down to Portsmouth and look 
 after my daughter. He has not seen her for years. The 
 old woman is dead, and the man is a drunkard. She is 
 falling into evil courses. He must save her from them." 
 
 " What is your real name ? " 
 
 " I will not give it. There is no need. He always called 
 me ' Tiny.' " 
 
 " How old is your daughter. 
 
 " Nineteen ! Her name is Emily ! I want her to be 
 married. Tell him to promise her a wedding trousseau. It 
 may induce her to marry." 
 
 The influence divulged a great deal more on the subject 
 which I cannot write down here. It was an account of one 
 of those cruel acts of seduction by which a young girl had 
 been led into trouble in order to gratify a man's selfish 
 lust, and astonished both Miss Clark and myself, who had 
 never heard of such a person as " Tiny " before. It was 
 
 too delicate a matter for me to broach to Major M 
 
 (who was a married man, and an intimate friend of mine), 
 but the spirit came so many times and implored me so 
 earnestly to save her daughter, that at last I ventured to 
 repeat tlae communication to him. He was rather taken 
 aback, but confessed it was true, and that the child, being 
 left to his care, had been given over to the charge of some 
 
 3 
 
34 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 common people at Portsmouth, and he had not enquired 
 after it for some time past. Neither had he ever lieard of 
 the death of the mother, who had subsequently married, 
 and had a family. He instituted inquiries, however, at 
 once, and found the statement to be quite true, and that 
 the girl Emily, being left with no better protection than 
 that of the drunken old man, had actually gone astray, 
 and not long after she was had up at the police court for 
 stabbing a soldier in a public-house — a fit ending for the 
 unfortunate offspring of a man's selfish passions. But the 
 strangest part of the story to the uninitiated will lie in the 
 fact that the woman whose spirit thus manifested itself to 
 two utter strangers, who knew neither her history nor her 
 name, was at the time alive, and living with her husband 
 
 and family, as Major M took pains to ascertain. 
 
 And now I have something to say on ihe subject of 
 communicating with the spirits of persons still in the flesh. 
 This will doubtless appear the most incompreliensiblc and 
 fanatical assertion of all, that we wear our earthly garb so 
 loosely, that the spirits of people still living in this world 
 can leave the body and manifest themselves either visibly 
 or orally to others in their normal condition. And yet it 
 is a fact that spirits have so visited myself (as in the case 
 I have just recorded), and given me information of which 
 I had not the slightest previous idea. The matter has been 
 explained to me after this fashion — that it is not really the 
 spirit of the living person who communicates, but the 
 spirit, or " control," that is nearest to him : in effect what 
 the Church calls his " guardian angel," and that this 
 guardian angel, who knows his inmost thoughts and de- 
 sires better even than he knows them himself, is equally 
 capable of speaking in his name. This idea of the matter 
 may shift the marvel from one pair of shoulders to another, 
 but it does not do away with it. If I can receive informa- 
 tion of events before they occur (as I will prove that I 
 have), I present a nut for the consideration of the public 
 jaw, which even the scientists will find difiicult to crack. 
 It was at one time my annual custom to take my children 
 to the sea-side, and one summer, being anxious to ascer- 
 tain how far the table could be made to net without the 
 aid of " unconscious cerebration," I arranged with my 
 friends, Mr. Helmore and Mrs. Colnaghi, who had been in 
 the habit of sitting with us at home, that we should con- 
 
THERE IS XO DEATH. 35 
 
 tinue to sit at the sea-side on Tuesday evenings as there- 
 tofore, and they should sit in London on the Thursdays, 
 when I would try to send them messages through " Char- 
 lie," the spirit I have already mentioned as being constantly 
 with us. 
 
 The first Tuesday my message was, " Ask them how 
 they are getting on without us," which was* faithfully de- 
 livered at their table on the following Thursday. The 
 return message from them which "Charlie" spelled out 
 for us on the second Tuesday, was : " Tell her London is 
 a desert without her," to which I emphatically, if not 
 elegantly, answered, " Fiddle-de-dee ! " A {t\v days after- 
 wards I received a letter from Mr. Helmore, in which he 
 said, " I am afraid ' Charlie ' is already tired of playing at 
 postman> for to all our questions about you last Thursday, 
 he would only rap out, ' Fiddle-de-dee.' " 
 
 The circumstance to which this little episode is but an 
 introduction happened a few days later. Mr. Colnaghi and 
 Mr. Helmore, sitting together as Msual on Thursday even- 
 ing, were discussing the possibility of summoning the 
 spirits'' of living persons to the table, when "Charlie" 
 rapped three times to intimate they could. 
 
 " Will you fetch some one for us, Charlie ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Whom will you bring? " 
 
 '•' Mrs. Ross-Church." 
 
 " How long will it take you to do so ">" 
 
 " Fifteen minutes." 
 
 It was in the middle of the night when I must have 
 been fast asleep, and the two young men told me after- 
 wards that they waited the results of their experiment 
 with much trepidation, wondering (I suppose) if I should 
 be conveyed bodily into their presence and box their ears 
 well for their impertinence. Exactly fifteen minutes after- 
 wards, however, the table was violently shaken and the 
 words were spelt out. " I am Mrs, Ross-Church. How 
 dared you send for me?" They were very penitent (or 
 they said they were), but they described my manner as 
 most arbitrary, and said I went on repeating, " Let me go 
 back ! Let me go back ! There is a great danger hanging 
 over my children 1 I must go back to my children ! " 
 (And here I would xt\wx\\i par paretithese, and in contra- 
 diction of the guardian angel theory, that I have always 
 
36 THERE IS KO DEATH. 
 
 found that wliilst the spirits of the departed come and go 
 as they feel inchned, the spirits of the living invariably 
 beg to be sent back again or permitted to go, as if they 
 were chained by the will of the medium.) On this occasion 
 I was so positive that I made a great impression on my 
 two friends, and the next day Mr. Helmore sent me a 
 cautiously wowled letter to find out if all was well with us 
 at Charmouth, but without disclosing the reason for his 
 curiosity. 
 
 Tht facts are, that on the morning of Friday, the day 
 after the seance in London, my seven children and two 
 nurses were all sitting in a small lodging-house room, when 
 my brother-in-law, Dr. Henry Norris, came in from ball 
 practice with the volunteers, and whilst exhibiting his rifle 
 to my son, accidentally discharged it in the midst of them, 
 the ball passing through the wall within two inches of my 
 eldest daughter's head. When I wrote the account of this 
 to Mr. Helmore, he told me of my visit to London and 
 the words I had spelt OHt on the occasion. But how did 
 I know of the occurrence the night before it took place ? 
 And if I — being asleep and unconscious — did not know of 
 it, " Charlie " must have done so. 
 
 My serial visits to my friends, however, whilst my body 
 was in quite another place, have been made still more pal- 
 pable than this. Once, when living in the Regent's Park, 
 I passed a very terrible and painful night. Grief and fear 
 kept me awake most of the time, and the morning found 
 me exhausted with the emotion I had gone through. About 
 eleven o'clock there walked in, to my surprise, Mrs. Fitz- 
 gerald (better known as a medium under her maiden name 
 of Bessie Williams), who lived in the Goldhawk Road, Shep- 
 herd's Bush. " I couldn't help coming to you," she com- 
 menced, " for I shall not be easy until I know how you 
 are after the terrible scene you have passed through." I 
 stared at her. "Whom have you seen? " I asked. " Who 
 has told you of it ? " '^ Yourself," she replied. " I was 
 waked up this morning between two and three o'clock by 
 the sound of sobbing and crying in the front garden. I 
 got out of bed and opened the window, and then I saw 
 you standing on the grass plat in your night-dress and cry- 
 ing bitterly. I asked you what was the matter, and you 
 told me so and so, and so and so." And here followed a 
 detailed account of all that had happened in my own 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 37 
 
 house on tlie other side of London, with the very words 
 that had been used, and every action that had happened. 
 I had seen no one and spoken to no one between tlie oc- 
 currence and the time Mrs. Fitzgerald called upon me. If 
 her story was untrue, lulio had so minutely informed her 
 of a circumstance which it was to the interest of all con- 
 cerned to keep to themselves ? 
 
 When I first joined Mr. d'Oyley Carte's " Patience " 
 Company in the provinces, to play the part of " Lady 
 Jane," I understood I was to have four days' rehearsal. 
 However, the lady whom I succeeded, hearing I had 
 arrived, took herself off, and the manager requested I 
 would appear the same night of my arrival. This was 
 rather an ordeal to an artist who had never sung on the 
 operatic stage before, and who was not note perfect. How- 
 ever, as a matter of obligation, I consented to do my best, 
 but I was very nervous. At the end of the second act, 
 during the balloting scene. Lady Jane has to appear sud- 
 denly on the stage, with the word " Away ! " I forget at 
 this distance of time whether I made a mistake in pitching 
 the note a third higher or lower. I know it was not out of 
 harmony, but it was sufficiently wrong to send the chorus 
 astray, and bring my heart up into my mouth. It never 
 occurred after the first night, but I never stood at the 
 wings again waiting for that particular entrance but I 
 " girded my loins together," as it were, with a kind of 
 dread lest I should repeat the error. After a while I per- 
 ceived a good deal of whispering about me in the company, 
 and I asked poor Federici (who played the colonel) the 
 reason of it, particularly as he had previously asked me 
 to stand as far from him as I could upon the stage, 
 as I magnetized him so strongly that he couldn't sing if I 
 was near him. " Well ! do you know," he said to ine in 
 answer, " that a very strange thing occurs occasionally with 
 reference to you. Miss Marryat. While you are standing 
 on jhe stage sometimes, you appear seated in the stalls. 
 Several people have seen it beside myself. I assure you 
 it is true." 
 
 " But when do you see me ? "' I enquired with amaze- 
 ment. 
 
 "It's always at the same time," he answered, " just 
 before you run on at the end of the second act. Of course 
 it's only an appearance, but it's very queer." I told him 
 
38 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 then of the strange feeHngs of distrust of myself I experi- 
 enced each night at tliat very moment, when my spirit seems 
 to have preceded myself upon the stage. 
 
 I had a friend many years ago in India, who (like many 
 other friends) had permitted time and separation to come 
 between us, and alienate us from each other. I had not 
 seen him nor heard from him for eleven years, and to all 
 appearance our fiiendship was at an end. One evening 
 the medium I have alluded to above, Mrs. Fitzgerald, who 
 was a personal friend of mine, was at my house, and after 
 dinner she put her feet up on the sofa — a very unusual 
 thing for her — and closed her eyes. She and I were quite 
 alone in the drawing-room, and after a little while I 
 whispered softly, " Bessie, are you asleep ? " The answer 
 came from her control " Dewdrop," a wonderfully sharp 
 Red Indian girl. " No ! she's in a trance. There's some- 
 body coming to speak to you ! I don't want him to come. 
 He'll make the medium ill. But it's no use. I see him 
 creeping round the corner now." 
 
 " But why should it make her ill ? " I argued, believing 
 we were about to hold an ordinary sea?ice. 
 
 " Because he's a live one, he hasn't passed over yet," 
 replied Dewdrop, " and live ones always make my medium 
 feel sick. But it's no use. I can't keep him out. He 
 may as well come. But don't let him stay long." 
 
 " Who is he, Dewdrop ? " I demanded curiously. 
 
 "/don't know ! Guess j^// will ! He's an old friend 
 of yours, and his name is George." Whereupon Bessie 
 Fitzgerald laid back on the sofa cushions, and Dewdrop 
 ceased to speak. It was some time before there was any 
 result. The medium tossed and turned, and wiped the 
 perspiration from her forehead, and pushed back her hair, 
 and beat up the cushions and threw herself back upon 
 them with a sigh, and went through all the pantomime of a 
 man trying to court sleep in a hot climate. Presently she 
 opened her eyes and glanced languidly around her. JHer 
 unmistakable actions and the name "George " (which was 
 that of my friend, then resident in India) had naturally 
 aroused my suspicions as to the identity of the influence, 
 and when Bessie opened her eyes, I asked softly, " George, 
 is that you ? " At the sound of my voice the medium started 
 violently and sprung into a sitting posture, and then, look- 
 ing all round the room in a scared manner, she exclaimed, 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 39 
 
 " Where am I ? Who brought me here ? " Then catching 
 sight of me, she continued, " Mrs. Ross-Church 1 — Flor- 
 ence ! Is \\\\'i yonr room ? O ! let me go ! Do let me 
 go ! " 
 
 This was not complimentary, to say the least of it, from 
 a friend whom I had not met for eleven years, but now that 
 I had got him I had no intention of letting him go, until I 
 was convinced of his identity. But the terror of the spirit 
 at finding himself in a strange place seemed so real and 
 uncontrollable that I had the greatest difficulty in persuad- 
 ing him to stay, even for a few minutes. He kept on 
 reiterating, " Wiio brought me here ? I did not wish to 
 come. Do let me go back. I am so very cold " (shiver- 
 ing convulsively), "so very, very cold." 
 
 "Answer me a few questions," I said, "and then you 
 shall go. Do you know who I am ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, you are Florence." 
 
 " And what is your name ? " He gave it at full length. 
 " And do you care for me still ? " 
 
 " Very much. But let me go." 
 
 " In a minute. Why do you never write to me ? " 
 
 " There are reasons. I am not a-free agent. It is better 
 as it is." 
 
 " I don't think so. I miss your letters very mudi. Shall 
 I ever hear from you again ? " 
 
 " Yes ! " 
 
 " And see you ? " 
 
 "Yes ; but ftot yet. Let me go now. I don't wish to 
 stay. You are making me very unhappy." 
 
 If I could describe the fearful manner in which, during 
 this conversation, he glanced every moment at the door, 
 like a man yvho is afraid of being discovered in a guilty 
 action, it would carry with it to my readers, as it did to me, 
 the most convincing proof that the medium's body was 
 animated by a totally different influence from her own. I 
 kept the spirit under control until I had fully convinced 
 myself that he knew everything about our former friend- 
 ship and his own present surroundings ; and then I let him 
 fly back to India, and wondered if he would wake up the 
 next morning and imagine he had been laboring under 
 nightmare. 
 
 These experiences with the spirits of the living are cer- 
 tainly amongst the most curious I have obtained. On more 
 
40 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 than one occasion, when I have been unable to extract the 
 truth of a matter from my acquaintances I have sat down 
 alone, as soon as I believed them to be asleep, and sum- 
 moned their spirits to the table and compelled them to 
 speak out. Little have they imagined sometimes how I 
 came to know things which they had scrupulously tried to 
 hide from me. I have heard that the power to summons 
 the spirits of the living is not given to all media, but I 
 have always possessed it. I can do so when they are awake 
 as well as when they are asleep, though it is not so easy. 
 A gentleman once dared me to do this with him, and I 
 only conceal his name because I made him look ridiculous. 
 I waited till I knew he was engaged at a dinner-party, and 
 then about nine o'clock in the evening I sat down and 
 summoned him to come to me. It was some little time 
 before he obeyed, and when he did come, he was emin- 
 ently sulky. I got a piece of paper and pencil, and from 
 his dictation I wrote down the number and names of the 
 guests at the dinner-table, also the dishes of which he had 
 partaken, and then in pity for his earnest entreaties I let 
 him go again. " You are making me ridiculous," he said, 
 "everyone is laughing at me." 
 
 " But why ? What are you doing ? " I urged. 
 
 " I am standing by the mantel-piece, and I have fallen 
 fast asleep," he answered. The next morning he came 
 pell-mell into my presence, 
 
 " What did you do to me last night ? " he demanded. 
 " I was at the Watts Philips, and after dinner I went fast 
 asleep with my head upon my hand, standing by the 
 mantel-piece, and they were all trying to wake me and 
 couldn't. Have you been playing any of your tricks upon 
 me?" 
 
 " I only made you do what you declared I couldn't," I 
 replied. " How did you like the white soup and the tur- 
 bot, and the sweetbreads, etc., etc." 
 
 He opened his eyes at my nefariously obtained know- 
 ledge, and still more when I produced the paper written 
 from his dictation. This is not a usual custom of mine — 
 it would not be interesting enough to pursue as a custom — 
 but I am a dangerous person to dare to do anything. 
 
 The old friend whose spirit visited me through Mrs. 
 Fitzgerald had lost a sister to whom he was very tenderly 
 attached before he made my acquaintance, and I knew little 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 41 
 
 of her beyond her name. One evening, not many months 
 after the interview with him which I have recorded, a spirit 
 came to me, giving the name of my friend's sister, with this 
 message, " My brother has returned to England, and 
 would like to know your address. Write to him to the 
 Club, Leamington, and tell him where to find you." I 
 replied, " Your brother has not written tome, nor inquired 
 after me for the last eleven years. He has lost all interest 
 in me, and I cannot be the first to write to him, unless I 
 am sure that he wishes it." 
 
 " He has not lost all interest in you," said the spirit ; 
 " he thinks of you constantly, and I hear him pray for you. 
 He wishes to liear from you." 
 
 " That may be true," I replied, " but I cannot accept it 
 on your authority. If your brother really wishes to renew 
 our acquaintance, let him write and tell me so." 
 
 " He does not "know your address, and I cannot get near 
 enough to him to influence him." 
 
 " Then things must remain as they are," I replied some- 
 what testily. " I am a public person. He can find out my 
 address, if he chooses to do so." 
 
 The spirit seemed to reflect for a moment ; then she 
 rapped out, " Wait, and I will fetch my brother. He shall 
 come here himself and tell you what he thinks about it." 
 In a short time there was a different movement of the table, 
 and the name of my old friend was given. After we had 
 exchanged a few words, and I had told him I required a 
 test of his identity, he asked me to get a pencil and paper, 
 and write from his dictation. I did as he requested, and he 
 dictated the following sentence, " Long time, indeed, has 
 passed since the days you call to mind, but time, however 
 long, does not efface the past. It has never made me cease 
 to think of and pray for you as I felt you, too, did think of 
 and pray for me. Write to the address my sister gave you. 
 I want to hear from you." 
 
 Notwithstanding the perspicuity and apparent genuine- 
 ness of this message, it was some time before I could make 
 up my mind to follow the directions it gave me. My pride 
 stood in the way to prevent it. Ten days afterwards, how- 
 ever, having received several more visits from the sister, I 
 did as she desired me, and sent a note to her brother to 
 the Leamington Club. The answer came by return of 
 post, and contained (amongst others) the identical words 
 
42 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 he had told me to write down. Will Mr. Stuart Cumber- 
 land, or any other clever man, explain to me what or who 
 it was that had visited me ten days beforehand, and dic- 
 tated words which could hardly have been in my corres- 
 pondent's brain before he received my letter? I am ready 
 to accept any reasonable explanation of the matter from 
 the scientists, philosophers, chemists, or arguists of the 
 world, and I am open to conviction, when my sense con- 
 vinces me, that their reasoning is true. But my present 
 belief is, that not a single man or woman will be found able 
 to account on any ordinary grounds for such an extraor- 
 dinary instance of " unconscious cerebration." 
 
 Being subject to "optical illusions," I naturally had 
 several with regard to my spirit child, " Florence," and she 
 always came to me clothed in a white dress. One night, 
 however, when I was living alone in the Regent's Park, I 
 saw " Florence " (as I imagined) standing in the centre of 
 the room, dressed in a green riding habit slashed wiih 
 orange color, with a cavalier hat of grey felt on her head, 
 ornamented with a long green feather and a gold buckle. 
 She stood with her back to me, but I could see her profile 
 as she looked over her shoulder, with the skirt of her habit 
 in her hand. This being a most extraordinary attire in 
 which to see " Florence," I feJt curious on the subject, and 
 the next day I questioned her about it. 
 
 " Florence ! '" I said, " why did you come to me last night 
 in a green riding habit ? " 
 
 " I did not come to you last night, mother 1 It was my 
 sister P^va." 
 
 " Good heavens ! " I exclaimed, " is anything wrong 
 with her ? " 
 
 " No 1 she is quite well." 
 
 " How could she come to me then ? " 
 
 "She did not come in reality, but her thoughts were 
 much with you, and so you saw her spirit clairvoyantly.'' 
 
 My daughter Eva, who was on the stage, was at that 
 time fulfilling a stock engagement in Glasgow, and very 
 much employed. I had not heard from her for a fortnight, 
 which was a most unusual occurrence, and I had begun to 
 feel uneasy. This vision made me more so, and I wrote at 
 once to ask her if all was as it should be. Her answer 
 was to this effect : " I am so sorry I have had no time to 
 write to you this week, but I have been so awfully busy. 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 43 
 
 We play ' The Colleen Bawn ' here next week, and I have 
 had to get my dress ready for ' Anne Chute.' It's so effect- 
 ive. I wish you could see it. A green habil slashed with 
 orange, and a grey felt hat with a long green feather and 
 a big gold buckle. I tried it on the other night, and it looked 
 so nice, etc., etc." 
 
 Well, my darling girl had had her wish, and I had seen 
 it. 
 
44 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 OPTICAL ILLUSIONS. 
 
 As I have alluded to what my family termed my " optical 
 illusions," I think it as well to describe a few of them, which 
 appeared by the context to be something more than a mere 
 temporary disturbance of my visual organs. I will pass 
 over such as might be traced, truly or otherwise, to physi- 
 cal causes, and confine myself to those which were subse- 
 quently proved to be the reflection of sometliing that, 
 unknown to me, had gone before. In 1875 I was much 
 engaged in giving dramatic readings in different parts of 
 the country, and I visited Dublin for the first time in my 
 life, for that purpose, and put up at the largest and best- 
 frequented hotel there. Through the hospitality of the 
 residents and the duties of my professional business, I was 
 engaged botli day and night, and when I did get to bed, 
 I had every disposition to sleep, as the saying is, like a 
 " top." But there was something in the hotel that would 
 not let me do so. I had a charming bedroom, cheerful, 
 briglit and pretty, and replete with every comfort, and I 
 would retire to rest "dead beat," and fall off to sleep at 
 once, to be waked perhaps half-a-dozen times a night by 
 that inexplicable something (or nothing) that rouses me 
 whenever I am about to enjoy an " optical illusion," and to 
 see figures, sometimes one, sometimes two or three, some- 
 times a whole group standing by my bedside and gazing 
 at me with looks of the greatest astonishment, as much as 
 to ask what right I had to be there. But the most remark- 
 able part of the matter to me was, that all the figures were 
 those of men, and military men, to whom I was too well 
 accustomed to be able to mistake. Some were officers and 
 others soldiers, some were in uniform, others in undress, 
 but they all belonged to the army, and they all seemed to 
 labor under tlie same feeling of intense surprise at seeing 
 me in the hotel. These apparitions were so life-like and 
 appeared so frequently, that I grew quite uncomfortable 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 45 
 
 about them, for however much one may be used to see 
 ''optical illusions," it is not pleasant to fancy there are 
 about twenty strangers gazing at one every night as one 
 lies asleep. Spiritualism is, or was, a tabooed subject in 
 Dublin, and I had been expressly cautioned not to mention 
 it before my new acquaintances. However, I could not 
 keep entire silence on this subject, and dining en famille 
 one day, with a hospitable family of the name of Robinson, 
 I related to them my nightly experiences at the hotel. 
 Father, mother, and son exclaimed simultaneously. " Good 
 gracious," they said, '' don't you know that that hotel was 
 built on the site of the old barracks ? The house imme- 
 diately behind it, which formed part of the old building, was 
 vacated by its last tenants on account of its being haunted. 
 Every evening at the hour the soldiers used to be marched 
 up to bed, they heard the tramp, tramp, tramp of the feet 
 ascending the staircase." 
 
 "That may be," I replied, "but they kneni their house 
 stood on the site of the barracks, and I didnt." 
 
 My eldest daughter was spending a holiday with me 
 once after my second marriage, and during the month of 
 August. She had been very much overworked, and I made 
 her lie in bed till noon. One morning I had been to her 
 room at that hour to wake her, and on turning to leave it 
 (in the broad daylight, remember), I encountered a man on 
 the landing outside her door. He was dressed in a white 
 shirl with black studs down the front, and a pair of black 
 cloth trousers. He had dark hair and eyes, and small 
 features ; altogether, he struck me as having rather a sinis- 
 ter and unpleasant appearance. I stood still, with the open 
 door in my hand, and gazed at him. He looked at me 
 also for a minute, and then turned and walked upstairs to 
 an upper storey where the nursery was situated, beckoning 
 me, with a jerk of his hand, to follow him. My daughter 
 (remarking a peculiar expression in my eyes, which I am 
 told they assume on such occasions) said, " Mother ! what 
 do you see ? " 
 
 " Only a spirit," I answered, " and he has gone upstairs." 
 
 " Now, what is the good of seeing them in that way," 
 said Eva, rather impatiently (for this dear child always 
 disliked and avoided Spiritualism), and I was fain to con- 
 fess that I really did not know the especial good of 
 encountering a sinister-looking gentleman in shirt and 
 
46 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 trousers, on a blazing noon in August. After which the 
 circumstance passed from my mind, until recalled again. 
 A itw months later I had occasion to change the child- 
 ren's nurse, and the woman who took her place was an 
 Icelandic girl named Margaret Thommassen, wjio had only- 
 been in England for three weeks. I found that she had 
 been educated far above the average run of domestic ser- 
 vants, and was well acquainted with the writings of Sweden- 
 borg and other autliors. One day as I walked up the 
 nursery stairs to visit the children in bed, I encountered 
 the same man I had seen outside my daughter's room, 
 standing on the upper landing, as though waiting my 
 approach. He was dressed as before, but this time his 
 arms were folded across his breast and his face downcast, 
 as though he were unhappy about something. He disap- 
 peared as I reached the landing, and I mentioned the 
 circumstance to no one. A Itw days later, Margaret 
 Thommassen asked me timidly if I believed in the possi- 
 bility of the spirits of the departed returning to this earth. 
 When I replied that I did, she appeared overjoyed, and 
 said she had never hoped to find anyone in England to 
 whom she could speak about it. She then gave me a mass 
 of evidence on the subject which forms a large part of the 
 religion of the Icelanders. She told me that she felt uneasy 
 about her eldest brother, to whom she was strongly 
 attached. He had left Iceland a year before to become a 
 waiter in Germany, and had promised faithfully that so long 
 as he lived she should hear from him every month, and 
 when he failed to write she must conclude he was dead. 
 Margaret told me she had heard nothing from him now 
 for three months, and each night when the nursery light 
 was put out, someome came and sat at the foot of her bed 
 and sighed. She then produced his photograph, and to 
 my astonishment I recognized at once the man who had 
 appeared to me some months before I knew that such a 
 woman as Margaret Thommassen existed. He was taken 
 in a shirt and trousers, just as I had seen him, and wore 
 the same repulsive (to me) and sinister expression. I then 
 told his sister that I had already seen him twice in that 
 house, and she grew very excited and anxious to learn the 
 truth. In consequence I sat with her in hopes of obtain- 
 ing some news of her brother, who immediately came to 
 the table, and told her that he was dead, with the circum- 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 47 
 
 Stances under which he had died, and the address where 
 she was to write, to obtain particulars. And on Margaret 
 Thommassen writing as she was directed, she obtained the 
 practical proofs of her brother's death, without which this 
 story would be worthless. 
 
 My sister Cecil lives with lier family in Somerset, and 
 many years ago I went down there to visit her for the first 
 time since she had moved into a new house which I had 
 never seen before. She put me to sleep in the guest 
 chamber, a large, handsome room, just newly furnished by 
 Oetzmann. But I could not sleep in it. The very first 
 night some one walked ;ip and down the room, groaning 
 and sighing close to my ears, and he, she, or it especially 
 annoyed me by continually touching the new stiff counter- 
 pane with a " scrooping " sound that set my teeth on edge, 
 and sent my heart up into my mouth. I kep't on saying, 
 " Go away ! Don't come near me ! " for its proximity in- 
 spired me with a horror and repugnance which I have sel- 
 dom felt under similar circumstances. I did not say any- 
 thing at first to my sister, who is rather nervous on the 
 subject of " bogies," but on the third night I could stand 
 it no longer, and told her plainly the room was haunted, 
 and I wished she would put me in her dressing-room, or 
 with her servants, sooner than let me remain there, as I 
 could get no rest. Then the truth came out, and she con- 
 fessed that the last owner of the house had committed sui- 
 'cide in that very room, and showed me the place on the 
 boards, underneath the carpet, where the stain of his bood 
 still remained. A lively sort of room to sleep all alone in. 
 
 Another sister of mine, Blanche, used to live in a haunted 
 house in Bruges, of which a description will be found in 
 the chapter headed, '' The Story of the Monk." Long, how- 
 ever, before the monk was heard of, I could not sleep in 
 her house on account of the disturbances in my room, for 
 which my sister used to laugh at me. But even when my 
 husband, Colonel Lean, and I stayed there together, it was 
 much the same. One night I waked him to see the figure 
 of a woman, who had often visited me, standing at the foot 
 of the bed. She was quaintly attired in a sort of leathern 
 boddice or jerkin, laced up the front over a woollen petticoat 
 of some dark color. She wore a cap of Mechlin lace, with 
 the large flaps at the side, adopted by Flemish women to 
 this day ; her hair was combed tightly off her forehead, and 
 she wore a profusion of gold ornaments. 
 
48 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 My husband could describe her as vividly as I did, which 
 proves how plainly the apparition must have shown itself. 
 I waked on several occasions to see this woman busy 
 (apparently) with the contents of an old carved oak armoir 
 which stood in a corner of the room, and which, I suppose, 
 must have had something to do with herself. My eldest 
 son joined me at Bruges on this occasion. He was a young 
 fellow of twenty, who had never practised, nor even enquired 
 into Spiritualism — fresh from sea, and about as free from 
 fear or superstitious fancies as a mortal could be. He was 
 put to sleep in a room on the other side of the house, and 
 I saw from the first that he was grave about it, but I did 
 not ask him the reason, though I felt sure, from personal 
 experience, that he would hear or see something before 
 long. In a few days he came to me and said — 
 
 " Mother 1 I'm going to take my mattress into the co- 
 lonel's dressing-room to-night and sleep there." I asked 
 him why. He replied, " It's impossible to stay in that 
 room any longer. I wouldn't mind if they'd let me sleep, 
 but they won't. There's something walks about half the 
 night, whispering and muttering, and touching the bed- 
 clothes, and though I don't believe in any of your rubbishy 
 spirits, I'll be ' jiggered ' if I sleep there any longer." So 
 he was not " jiggered " (whatever that may be), as he 
 refused to enter the room again. 
 
 I cannot end this chapter more appropriately than by 
 relating a very remarkable case of " optical illusion " which 
 was seen by myself alone. It was in the month of July, 
 1880, and I had gone down alone to Brighton for a week's 
 quiet. I had some important literary work to finish, and 
 the exigencies of the London season made too many de- 
 mands upon my time. So I packed up my writing materials, 
 and took a lodging all to myself, and set hard to work, I 
 used to write all day and walk in the evening. It was light 
 then till eight or nine o'clock, and jlhe Esplanade used to 
 be crowded till a late hour. I was pushing my way, on the 
 evening of the 9th of July, through the crowd, thinking of 
 my work more than anything else, when I saw, as I fully 
 thought, my step-son, Francis Lean, leaning with his back 
 against the palings at the edge of the cliff and smiling at 
 me. He was a handsome lad of eighteen who was supposed 
 to have sailed in his ship for the Brazils five months before. 
 But he had been a wild young fellow, causing his father 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 49 
 
 much trouble and anxiety, and my first impression was one 
 of great annoyance, thinking naturally that, since I saw 
 him there, he had never sailed at all, but run away from his 
 ship at the last moment. I hastened up to him, therefore, 
 but as I reached his side, he turned round quite method- 
 ically, and walked quickly down a flight of steps that led 
 to the beach. I followed him, and found myself amongst a 
 group of ordinary seamen mending their nets, but I could 
 see Francis nowhere. I did not know what to make of the 
 occurrence, but it never struck me that it was not either the 
 lad himself or some one remarkably like him. The same 
 night, however, after I had retired to bed in a room that 
 was unpleasantly briliant with the moonlight streaming in 
 at the window, I was roused from my sleep by someone 
 turning the handle of my door, and there stood Francis in 
 his naval uniform, with the peaked cap on his head, smiling 
 at me as he had done upon the cliff. I started up in bed 
 intending to speak to him, when he laid his finger on his 
 lips and faded away. This second vision made me think 
 something must have happened to the boy, but I determined 
 not to say anything to my husband about it until it was 
 verified. Shortly after my return to London, we were 
 going, in company with my own son (also a sailor), to see 
 his ship which was lying in the docks, when, as we were 
 driving through Poplar, I again saw my stepson Francis 
 standing on the pavement, and smiling at me. That time 
 I spoke. I said to Colonel Lean, " I am sure I saw Francis 
 standing there. Do you think it is possible he may not 
 have sailed after all ? " But Colonel Lean laughed at the 
 idea. He believed it to be a chance likeness I had seen. 
 Only the lad was too good-looking to have many duplicates 
 in this world. We visited the seaside after that, and in 
 September, whilst we were staying at Folkestone, Colonel 
 Lean received a letter to say that his son Francis had been 
 drowned by the upsetting of a boat in the surf of the Bay 
 of Callao, in the Brazils, on the <^th of July — the day I had 
 seen him twice in Brighton, two months before we heard 
 that he was gone. 
 
50 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ON SCEPTICISM, 
 
 There are two classes of people who have done more harm 
 to the cause of Spiritualism than the testimony of all the 
 scientists has done good, and those are the enthusiasts 
 and the sceptics. The first believe everything they see or 
 hear. Without giving themselves the trouble to obtain 
 proofs of the genuineness of the manifestations, they rush 
 impetuously from one acquaintance to the other, detailing 
 their experience with so much exaggeration and such un- 
 bounded faith, that they make the absurdity of it patent 
 to all. They are generally people of low intellect, credu- 
 lous dispositions, and weak nerves. They bow down 
 before the influences as if they were so many little gods 
 descended from heaven, instead of being, as in the majority 
 of instances, spirits a shade less holy than our own, who, 
 for their very shortcomings, are unable to rise above the 
 atmosphere that surrounds this gross and material world. 
 These are the sort of spiritualists whom Punch and other 
 comic papers have very justly ridiculed. Who does not 
 remember the picture of the afflicted widow, for whom the 
 medium has just called up the departed Jones ? 
 
 " Jones," she falters, " are you happy ? " 
 
 " Much happier than I was down here," growls Jones. 
 
 " O ! then you viust be in heaven ! " 
 
 " On the contrary, quite the reverse," is the reply. 
 
 Who also has not sat a seance where such people have 
 not made themselves so ridiculous as to bring the cause 
 they profess to adore into contempt and ignominy. Yet 
 to allow the words and deeds of fools to affect one's inward 
 and private conviction of a matter would be tantamount to 
 giving up the pursuit of everything in which one's fellow 
 creatures can take a part. 
 
 The second class to which I alluded — the sceptics — have 
 not done so much injury to Spiritualism as the enthusiasts, 
 because they are as a rule, so intensely bigoted and hard- 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 5 1 
 
 headed, and narrow-minded, that they overdo their protes- 
 tations, and render them harmless. The sceptic refuses to 
 believe anything, because he has found out one thing to 
 be a fraud. If one medium deceives, all the mediums 
 must deceive. If one seance is a failure, none can be 
 successful. If he gains no satisfactory test of the presence 
 of the spirits of the departed, no one has ever gained such 
 a test. Now, such reason is neither just nor logical. 
 Again, a sceptic fully expects his testimony to be accepted 
 and believed, yet he will never believe any truth on the 
 testimony of another person. And if he is told that, 
 given certain conditions, he can see this or hear the other, 
 he says, " No ! I will see it and hear it without any con- 
 ditions, or else I will proclaim it all a fraud." In like 
 manner, we might say to a savage, on showing him a 
 watch, " If you will keep your eye on those hands, you 
 will see them move round to tell the hours and minutes," 
 and he should reply, " I must put the watch into boiling 
 water — those are my conditions — and if it won't go then, 
 I will not believe it can go at all." 
 
 I don't mind a man being a sceptic in Spiritualism. I 
 don't see how he can help (considering the belief in which 
 we are reared) being a sceptic, until he has proved so 
 strange a matter for himself. But I do object to a man or a 
 woman taking part in a stance with the sole intention of 
 detecting deceit, not ivhe7i it has happened, but before it 
 has happened — of bringing an argumentative, disputa- 
 tious mind, full of the idea that it is going to be tricked 
 and humbugged into (perhaps) a private circle who are 
 sitting (like Rosa Dartle) " simply for informatioil," and 
 scattering all the harmony and good-will about him broad- 
 cast. He couldn't do it to a human assembly without 
 breaking up the party. Why should he expect to be more 
 kindly welcomed by a spiritual one ? I have seen an 
 immense deal of courtesy shown under such circumstances 
 to men whom I should have liked to see kicked downstairs. 
 I have seen them enter a lady's private drawing-room, by 
 invitation, to witness manifestations which were never, 
 under any circumstances, made a means of gain, and have 
 heard them argue, and doubt, and contradict, until they 
 have given their hostess and her friends the He to their 
 faces. And the world in general would be quite ready to 
 side with these (so-called) gentlemen, not because their 
 
52 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 word or their wisdom was better worth than that of their 
 fellow guests, but because they protested against the truth 
 of a thing which it had made up its mind to be impossible. 
 I don't mind a sceptic myself, as I said before, but he must 
 be unbiassed, which few sceptics are. As a rule, they 
 have decided the question at issue for themselves before 
 they commence to investigate it. 
 
 I find that few people outside the pale of Spiritualism 
 have heard of the Dialectical Society, which was a scientific 
 society assembled a few years ago for the sole purpose of 
 enquiring into the truth of the matter. It was composed 
 of forty members, — ten lawyers, ten scientists, ten clergy- 
 men, and ten chemists (I think that was the arrangement), 
 and they held forty seances., and the published report at 
 the close of them was, that not one of these men of learn- 
 ing and repute could find any natural cause for the wonders 
 he had witnessed. I know that there are a thousand 
 obstacles in the way of belief. The extraordinarily contra- 
 dictory manner in which Protestants are brought up, to 
 believe in one and the same breath that spirits were 
 common visitants to earth at the periods of which the 
 Bible treats, but that it is impossible they can return to it 
 now, although the Lord is the same yesterday, to-day, and 
 for ever. The conditions of darkness for the creation of 
 materialized spirits, and the resemblance they sometimes 
 bear to the medium, are two fearful stumbling-blocks. Yet 
 one must know that all things are created in the dark, and 
 that even a seed cannot sprout if you let the light in upon 
 it, while as for the resemblance between the spirit and the 
 medium, from whom it takes the material being that enables 
 it to appear, if investigators would only persevere with their 
 enquiries, they would find, as I have, that that is a dis- 
 appointment which has its remedy in Time. Vv^hen people 
 call on me to explain such things, I can only say that I 
 know no more how they come than they do, or that I know 
 how / came, a living, sentient creature, into the world. 
 Besides (as I have said before), I write these pages to tell 
 only what I have seen, and not to argue how it came to 
 pass that I saw it. 
 
 I have a little story to tell here which powerfully illus- 
 trates the foregoing remarks. The lines, 
 
 " A woman convinced against her will 
 Is of the same opinion still," 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 53 
 
 might have been penned with as much truth of sceptics. 
 Men who are sceptical, i.e., so thoroughly wrapt up in con- 
 ceit of their powers of judgment and determination that it 
 becomes impossible for them to believe themselves mis- 
 taken, will deny the evidence of all their senses sooner 
 than confess they may be in the wrong. Such an one may 
 be a clever scientist or a shrewd man of business, but he 
 can never be a genius. For genius is invariably humble 
 of its own powers, and, therefore, open to conviction. 
 But the lesser minds, who are only equal to grasping such 
 details as may have been drummed into them by sheer 
 force of study, appear to have no capability of stretching 
 beyond a certain limit. They are hedged in and cramped 
 by the opinions in which they have been reared, or that 
 they have built up for themselves out of the petty material 
 their brain affords them, and have lost their powers of 
 elasticity. " Thus far shalt thou go and no further," seems 
 to be the fiat pronounced on too many men's reasoning 
 faculties. Instead of believing the power of God and the 
 resources of nature to be illimitable, they want to keep 
 them within the little circle that encompasses their own 
 brains. •' I can't see it, and therefore it cannot be." There 
 was a time when I used to take the trouble to try and con- 
 vince such men, but I have long ceased to do so. It is 
 quite indifferent to me what they believe or don't believe. 
 And with such minds, even if they were convinced of its 
 possibility, they would probably make no good use of 
 spiritual intercourse. For there is no doubt it can be 
 turned to evil uses as well as to good. 
 
 Some years ago I was on friendly terms with a man of 
 this sort. He was a doctor, accounted clever in his pro- 
 fession, and I knew him to be an able arguist, and thought 
 he had common sense enough not to eat his own words, 
 but the sequel proved that I was mistaken. We had 
 several conversations together on Spiritualism, and as Dr. 
 
 H was a complete disbeliever in the existence of a 
 
 God and a future life, I was naturally not surprised to 
 find that he did not place any credence in the account 
 I gave him of my spiritualistic experiences. Many 
 medical men attribute such experiences entirely to a 
 diseased condition of mind or body. 
 
 But when I asked Dr.H what he should think if he 
 
 saw them with his own eyes, I confess I was startled to 
 
54 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 hear him answer that he should say his eyes deceived him. 
 " But if you heard them speak ? " I continued. 
 
 " I should disbelieve my ears." 
 
 " And if you touched and handled them ? " 
 
 " I should mistrust my sense of feeling." 
 
 "Then by what means," I argued, " do you know that 
 I am Florence Marryat? You can only see me and hear 
 me and touch me ! What is there to prevent your senses 
 misleading you at the present moment? " 
 
 But to this argument Dr. H only returned a pitying 
 
 smile, professing to think me, on this point at least, too 
 feeble-minded to be worthy of reply, but in reality not 
 knowing what on earth to say. He often, however, recurred 
 to the subject of Spiritualism, and on several occasions 
 told me that if I could procure him the opportunity of sub- 
 mitting a test which he might himself suggest, he should be 
 very much obliged to me. It was about this time that a 
 young medium named William Haxby, now passed away, 
 went to live with Mr. and Mrs. Olive in Ainger Terrace, 
 and we were invited to attend a seance given by him. Mrs. 
 Olive, when giving the invitation, informed me that Mr. 
 Haxby had been very successful in procuring direct writing 
 in scaled boxes, and she asked me, if I wished to try the 
 experiment, to take a secured box, with writing materials 
 in it, to the seance, and see what would happen to it. 
 
 Here was, I thought, an excellent opportunity for Dr. 
 
 H 's test, and I sent for him and told him what had 
 
 been proposed. I urged him to prepare the test entirely 
 by himself, and to accompany me to the seance and see 
 what occurred, — to all of which he readily consented. In- 
 deed, he became quite excited on the subject, being certain 
 it would prove a failure ; and in my presence he made the 
 following preparations : — 
 
 I. Half a sheet of ordinary cream-laid note-paper and 
 half a cedar-wood black lead pencil were placed in a 
 jeweller's cardwood box. 
 
 II. The lid of the box was carefully glued down all round 
 to the bottom part. 
 
 III. Tiie box was wrapt in white writing paper, which 
 was gummed over it. 
 
 IV. It was tied eight times with a peculiar kind of silk 
 made for tying up arteries, and the eight knots were knots 
 known to (as Dr. H informed me) medical men only. 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 55 
 
 V. Each of the eight knots was sealed with sealing-wax, 
 
 and impressed with Dr, H 's crest seal, which he always 
 
 wore on his watch-chain. 
 
 VI. The packet was again folded in brown paper, and 
 sealed and tied to preserve the inside from injury. 
 
 When Dr. H had finished it, he said to me, " If the 
 
 spirits (or anybody) can write on that paper witliout cut- 
 ting the silk, 1 will believe whatever you wish." I asked, 
 " Are you quite sure that the packet could not be undone 
 without your detecting it?" His answer was — "That 
 silk is not to be procured except from a medical man ; it 
 is manufactured expressly for the tying of arteries ; and the 
 knots I have made are known only to medical men. They 
 are the knots we use in tying arteries. The seal is my own 
 crest, which never leaves my watch-chain, and I defy any- 
 one to undo those knots without cutting them, or to tie 
 them again, if cut. I repeat — if your friends can make, or 
 cause to be made, the smallest mark on that paper, and 
 return me the box in the condition it now is, I will believe 
 anything you choose." And I confess I was very dubious 
 of the result myself, and almost sorry that I had subjected 
 the doctor's incredulity to so severe a test. 
 
 On the evening appointed we attended the seance, Dr. 
 
 H taking the prepared packet with him. He Avas 
 
 directed to place it under his chair, but he tied a string to 
 it and put it under his foot, retaining the other end of the 
 string in his hand. The meeting was not one for favorably 
 impressing an unbeliever in Spiritualism. There were too 
 many people present, and too many strangers. The or- 
 dinary manifestations, to my mind, are worse than useless, 
 unless they have been preceded by extraordinary ones ; so 
 that the doctor returned home more sceptical than before, 
 and I repented that I had taken him there. One thing had 
 occurred, however, that he could not account for. The 
 packet which he had kept, as he thought, under his foot 
 the whole time, was found, at the close of the meeting, to 
 have disappeared. Another gentleman had brought a 
 sealed box, with paper and pencil in it, to the seance; and 
 at the close it was opened in the presence of all assembled, 
 and found to contain a closely written letter from his 
 deceased wife. But the doctor's box had evaporated, and 
 was nowhere to be found. The door of the room had 
 been locked all the time, and we searched the room 
 
56 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 thoroughly, but without success. Dr. H was naturally 
 
 triumphant. 
 
 " They couldn't undo my knots and my seals," he said, 
 exulting over me, " and so they wisely did not return the 
 packet. Both packets were of course taken from the room 
 during the sitting by some confederate of the medium. The 
 other one was easily managed, and put back again — mine 
 proved unmanageable, and so they have retained it. I 
 knew it would be so ! " ' 
 
 And he twinkled his eyes at me as much as to say, " I 
 have %\\\!i'iyou up. You will not venture to describe any of 
 the marvels you have seen to me after this." Of course 
 the failure did not discompose me, nor shake my belief. I 
 never believed spiritual beings to be omnipotent, omni- 
 present, nor omniscient. They had failed before, and 
 doubtless they would fail again. But if an acrobatic per- 
 former fails to turn a double somersault on to another man's 
 head two or three times, it does not falsify the fact that he 
 succeeds on the fourth occasion. I was sorry that the test 
 
 had been a failure, for Dr. H 's sake, but I did not 
 
 despair of seeing the box again. And at the end of a 
 fortnight it was left at my house by ]\Ir. Olive, with a note 
 to say that it had been found that morning on the mantel- 
 piece in Mr. Haxby's bedroom, and he lost no time in 
 returning it to me. It was wrapt in the brown paper, tied 
 and sealed, apparently just as we had carried it to the 
 stance in Ainger Terrace; and I wrote at once to Dr. 
 
 H announcing its return, and asking him to come over 
 
 and open it in my presence. He came, took the packet in 
 his hand, and having stripped off tlie outer wrapper, 
 examined it carefully. There were four tests, it may be 
 remembered, applied to the packet. 
 
 I. The arterial silk, procurable only from a medical 
 man. 
 
 II. The knots to be tied only by medical men. 
 
 III. Dr. H 's own crest, always kept on his watch 
 
 chain, as a seal. 
 
 IV. The hd of the cardboard box, glued all round to the 
 bottom part. 
 
 As the doctor scrutinized the silk, the knots, and the 
 seals, I watched him narrowly. 
 
 *' Are you quite sure,'^ I asked, '' that it is the same 
 paper in which you wrapt it ? " 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 57 
 
 " I am quite sure." 
 
 "■ And the same silk ? " 
 
 " Quite sure." 
 
 " Your knots have not been untied ? " 
 
 " I am positive that they have not." 
 
 " Nor your seal been tampered with ? " 
 
 " Certainly not ! It is just as I sealed it." 
 
 " Be careful, Dr. H ," I continued. " Remember I 
 
 shall write down all you say." 
 
 "I am willing to swear to it in a court of justice," he 
 replied. 
 
 " Then will you open the packet ? " 
 
 Dr. H took the scissors and cut the silk at each seal 
 
 and knot, then tore off the gummed white writing j^aper 
 (which was as fresh as when he had put it on), and tried 
 to pull open the card-board box. But as he could not do 
 this in consequence of the lid being glued down, he took 
 out his penknife and cut it all round. As he did so, he 
 looked at me and said, " Mark my words. There will be 
 nothing written on the paper. It is impossible ! " 
 
 He lifted the lid, and behold the box was empty ! The 
 half sheet of notepaper and the half cedar wood pencil had 
 both entirely disappeared. Not a crumb of lead, nor a 
 shred of paper remained behind. I looked at the doctor, 
 and the doctor looked completely bewildered. 
 
 " Well !''' I said, interrogatively. 
 
 He shifted about — grew red — and began to bluster. 
 
 " What do you make of it? " I asked. " How do you 
 account for it ? " 
 
 '^ In the easiest way in the world," he replied, trying to 
 brave it out. " It's the most transparent deception I ever 
 saw. They've kept the thing a fortnight and had time to 
 do anything with it. A child could see through this. 
 Surely your bright wits can want no help to an explana- 
 tion." 
 
 " I am not so bright as you give me credit for," I 
 answered. " Will you explain your meaning to me ? " 
 
 "With pleasure. They have evidently made an invisible 
 slit in the joining of the box cover, and with a pair of fine 
 forceps drawn the paper through it, bit by bit. For the 
 pencil, they drew that by the same means to the slit and 
 then pared it, little by little, with a lancet, till they could 
 shake out the fragments." 
 
58 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 " That must have required very careful manipulation," I 
 observed. 
 
 " Naturally. But tliey've taken a fortniglit to do it 
 in." 
 
 " But how about the arterial silk ? " I said. 
 
 " They must have procured some from a surgeon." 
 
 " And your famous knots ? " 
 
 " They got some surgeon to tic them ! " 
 
 " But your crest and seal ? " 
 
 " Oh ! they must have taken a facsimile of that in order 
 to reproduce it. It is very cleverly done, but quite ex- 
 plicable ! " 
 
 . " But you told me before you opened the packet that 
 you would take your oath in a court of justice it had not 
 been tempered with." 
 
 " I was evidently deceived." 
 
 "And you really believe, then, that an uneducated lad 
 like Mr. Haxby would take the trouble to take impressions 
 of seals and to procure arterial silk and the services of a 
 surgeon, in order, not to mystify or convert jou, but to 
 gratify ;//<?, whose box he believes it to be." 
 
 " I am sure he has done so ! " 
 
 " But just now you were equally sure he had not done 
 so. Why sliould you trust your senses in one case more 
 than in the other ? And if Mr. Haxby has played a trick 
 on me, as you suppose, why did you not discover the slit 
 when you examined the box, before opening ? " 
 
 " Because my eyes misled me ! " 
 
 " Then after all," I concluded, " the best thing you can 
 say of yourself is that you — a man of reputed science, skill, 
 and sense, and with a strong belief in your own powers — 
 are unable to devise a test in which you shall not be out- 
 witted by a person so inferior to yourself in age, intellect 
 and education as young Haxby. But I will give you 
 another chance. Make up another packet in any way you 
 like. Apply to it the severest tests which your ingenuity 
 can devise, or other men of genius can suggest to you, and 
 let me give it to Haxby and see if the contents can be ex- 
 tracted, or tampered with a second time." 
 
 " It would be useless," said Dr. H . " If they were 
 
 extracted through the iron panels of a fireproof safe, I 
 would not believe it was done by any but natural means." 
 
 " Because you do not wis/i to believe," I argued. 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 59 
 
 ** You are right." he confessed, " I do not wish to believe. 
 If you convinced me of the truth of Spiritualism, you would 
 upset all the theories I have held for the best part of my 
 life. I don't believe in a God, nor a soul, nor a future ex- 
 istence, and I would rather not believe in them. We have 
 quite enough trouble, in my opinion, in tliis life, without 
 looking forward to another, and I would rather cling to my 
 belief that when we die we have done with it once and for 
 ever." 
 
 So there ended my attempt to convince Dr. H , and 
 
 I have often thought since that he was but a type of the 
 genus sceptic. In this world, we mostly believe what we 
 want to believe, and the thought of a future troubles us in 
 proportion to the lives we lead here. It must often strike 
 spiritualists (who mostly look forward to the day of their 
 departure for another world, as aschoolboylooks forward to 
 the commencement of the holidays) as a very strange thing, 
 that people, as a rule, evince so little curiosity on the sub- 
 ject of Spiritualism. The idea of the spirits of the departed 
 returning to this world to hold communication with their 
 friends may be a new and startling one to them, but the 
 very wonder of it would make one expect to see them 
 evince a little interest in a matter which concerns us all. 
 Yet the generality of Carlyle's British millions either pooh- 
 pooh the notion as too utterly ridiculous for their exalted 
 minds to entertain, or inform you, with superior wisdom, 
 that if Spiritualism is true, they cannot see the use of it, and 
 have no craving for any further knowledge. If these same 
 people expected to go to Canada or Australia in a few 
 months' time, how eagerly they would ask questions con- 
 cerning their future home, and procure the best informa- 
 tion on what to do, whilst they remained in England, in 
 order to fit themselves for the journey and the change. 
 
 But a journey to the other world — to the many worlds 
 which perhaps await us — a certain proof that we shall live 
 again (or rather, that we shall never die but need only 
 time and patience and well-living here to reunite us to the 
 dear one gone before) — that is a subject not worthy of our 
 trying to believe — of not sufficient importance for us to 
 take the trouble of ascertaining. I piiy from my soul the 
 men and women who have no dead darling buried in their 
 liearts whom they knoiu they shall meet in a home of God's 
 own choosing when this life ends. 
 
6o THERE IS NO DEATH, 
 
 The old, cold faiths have melted away beneafch the sun 
 of Progress. We can no longer be made to believe, like 
 little children, in a shadowy indefinite Heaven where the 
 saints sit on damp clouds with harps in their hands for- 
 ever singing psalms and hymns and heavenly songs. That 
 sort of existence could be a Heaven to none, and to most 
 it would be a Hell. We do not accept it now, any more 
 than we do the other place, with its typical fire and brim- 
 stone, and pitch-forking devils with horns and tails. But 
 what has Religion given us instead ? Those whose com- 
 mon-sense will not permit them to believe in the parson's 
 
 Heaven and Hell generally believe (like Dr. H ) in 
 
 nothing at all. But Spiritualism, earnestly and faithfully 
 followed, leaves us in no doubt. Spiritualists know where 
 they are going to. The spheres are almost as familiar to 
 them as this earth — it is not too much to say that many 
 live in them as much as they do here, and often they seem 
 the more real, as they are the more lasting of the two. 
 Spiritualists are in no manner of doubt who their eyes will 
 see when opening on another phase of life. They do not 
 expect to be carried straight up into Abraham's bosom, 
 and lie snugly there, whilst revengeful demons are tortur- 
 ing those who were, perhaps, nearest and dearest to them 
 down below. They have a better and more substantial 
 religion than that — a revelation that teaches them that the 
 works we do in the flesh must bear their fruit in the spirit, 
 and that no tardy deathbed repentance, no crying out for 
 mercy because Justice is upon us, like an unruly child howl- 
 ing as soon as the stick is produced for chastisement — 
 will avail to wipe off the sins we have indulged in upon 
 earth. They know their expiation will be a bitter one, yet 
 not without Hope, and that they will be helped, as well as 
 help others, in the upward path that leads to ultimate 
 perfection. The teaching of Spiritualism is such as largely 
 to increase belief in our Divine Father's love, our Saviour's 
 pity, and the angels' ministering help. But it does more 
 than this, more than any religion has done before. It 
 affords \\\^ proof — the only proof we have ever received, 
 and our finite natures can accept — of a future existence. 
 The majority of Christians hope and trust, and say they 
 believe. It is the Spiritualist only tlmt knoius. 
 
 I think that the marvellous indifference displayed by the 
 crowd to ascertain these truths for themselves must be 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 6l 
 
 due, in a large number of instances, to the unnatural but 
 universal fear which is entertained of Death and all things 
 connected with it. The same people who loudly declaim 
 again the possibility of seing a " ghost," shudder at the 
 idea of doing so. The creature whom they have adored 
 and waited on with tenderest devotion passes away, and 
 they are afraid to enter the room where his body lies. That 
 which they clung to and wept over yesterday, they fear to 
 look at or touch to-day, and the idea that he would return 
 and speak to them would inspire them with horror. But 
 why afraid of an impossibility ? Their very fears should 
 teach them that there is a cause. From numerous notes 
 made on the subject I have invariably found that those who 
 have had the opportunity of testing the reality of Spirit- 
 ualism, and either rejected or denied it, have been selfish, 
 worldly, and cold-hearted people who neither care, nor are 
 cared for, by those who have passed on to another sphere. 
 Plenty of love is sure to bring you plenty of proof. The 
 mourners, who have lost sight of what is dearest to them, 
 and would give all they possess for one more look at the 
 face they loved so much, or one more tone of the voice that 
 was music to their ears, are only too eager and grateful to 
 hear of a way by which their longings may be gratified, and 
 would take any trouble and go to any expense to accom- 
 plish what they desire. 
 
 It is this intense yearning to speak again with those that 
 have left us, on the part of the bereaved, that has led to 
 chicanery on the part of media in order to gratify it. 
 Wherever money is to be made, unfortunately cheating 
 will step in ; but because some tradesmen will sell you 
 brass for gold is no reason to vote all jewellers thieves. 
 The account of the raising of Samuel by the witch of 
 Endor is an instance that my argument is correct. The 
 witch was evidently an impostor, for she had no expecta- 
 tion of seeing Samuel, and was frightened by the appari- 
 tion she had evoked ; but Spiritualism must be a truth, 
 because it was Samuel himself who appeared and rebuked 
 Saul for calling him back to this earth. What becomes, 
 in the face of this story, of the impassable gulf between 
 the earthly and spiritual spheres ? That atheists who' be- 
 lieve in nothing should not believe in Spiritualism is credi- 
 ble, natural, and consistent. But that Christians should 
 reject the theory is tantamount to acknowledging that they 
 
62 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 found their hopes of salvation upon a lie. There is no way 
 of getting out of it. If it be impossible that the spirits of 
 the departed can communicate with men, the Bible must 
 be simply a collection of fabulous statements ; if it be 
 wrong to speak with spirits, all the men whose histories 
 are therein related were sinners, and the Almighty helped 
 them to sin ; and if all the spirits who have been heard 
 and seen and touched in modern times are devils sent on 
 earth to lure us to our destruction, how are we to distin- 
 guish between them and the Greatest Spirit of all, who 
 walked with mortal Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden. 
 " O ! yes ! " I think I hear somebody cry, " but that was 
 in the Bible ; " as if the Bible were a period or a place. 
 And did it ever strike you that there is something else 
 recorded in the Bible ? " And He did not many miracles 
 there because of their unbelie/y And yet Christ came to 
 call " not the rigliteous but the sinners to repentance." 
 Surely, then, the unbelieving required the conviction of 
 the miracles more tlian those who knew Him to be God. 
 Yet there He did them not, because of their unbelief, be- 
 cause their scepticism produced a condition in which 
 miracles could not be wrought. And yet the nineteenth 
 century is surprised because a sceptic, whose jarring ele- 
 ment upsets all union and harmony, is not an acceptable 
 addition to a spiritual meeting, and that the miracles of 
 the present — gross and feeble, compared to those of the 
 past, because worked by grosser material though grosser 
 agents — ceased to be manifested when his unbelief in- 
 trudes itself upon them. 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 63 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE STORY OF JOHN POWLES. 
 
 On the 4th of April, i860, there died in India a young 
 officer in the 12th Regiment M.N.L, of the name of John 
 Powles. He was an intimate friend of my first husband 
 for several years before his death, and had consequently 
 become intimate with me ; indeed, on several occasions 
 he shared our house and lived with us on the terms of a 
 brother. I was very young at that time and susceptible 
 to influence of all sorts — extremely nervous, moreover, on 
 the subject of "ghosts," and yet burning with curiosity 
 to learn something of the other world — a topic which it is 
 most difficult to induce anybody to discuss with you. 
 People will talk of dress, or dinner, or their friend's pri- 
 vate affairs — of anything, in fact, sooner than Death and 
 Immortality and the world to come which we must all 
 inevitably enter. Even parsons — the legalized exponents 
 of what lies beyond the grave — are no exceptions to the 
 rule. When the bereaved sufferer goes to them for com- 
 fort, they shake their heads and " hope "and " trust," and 
 say *• God's mercy has no limits," but they cannot give 
 him one reasonable proof to rest upon that Death is but a 
 name. John Powles, however, though a careless and irre- 
 ligious man, liked to discuss the Unseen, We talked 
 continually on the subject, even when he was apparently 
 in perfect health, and he often ended our conversation by 
 assuring me that should he die first (and he always pro- 
 phesied truly that he should not reach the age of thirty) 
 he would (were such a thing possible) come back to me. 
 I used to laugh at the absurdity of the idea, and remind 
 him how many friends had made the same promise to each 
 other and never fulfilled it. For though I firmly believed 
 that such things had been, I could not realize that they 
 would ever happen to me, or that I should survive 
 the shock if they did. John Powles' death at the last 
 was very sudden, although the disease he died of was of 
 
64 THERE IS NO DEATIT. 
 
 long standing. He had been under the doctor's hands 
 for a itw days when he took an unexpected turn for tlie 
 worse, and my liusband and myself, with other friends, 
 were summoned to his bedside to say good-bye to him. 
 When I entered the room he said to me, " So you see it 
 has come at last. Don't forget what I said to you about 
 it." They were his last intelligible words to me, tliough 
 for several hours he grasped my dress with his hand to 
 prevent my leaving him, and became violent and unman- 
 ageable if I attempted to quit his side. During this time, 
 in the intervals of his delirium, he kept on entreating me 
 to sing a certain old ballad, which had always been a great 
 favorite with him, entitled " Thou art gone from my gaze." 
 I am sure if I sung t'nat song once during that miserable 
 day, I must have sung it a dozen times. At last our poor 
 friend fell into convulsions which recurred with little inter- 
 mission until his death, which took place the same evening. 
 
 His death and the manner of it caused me a great shock. 
 He had been a true friend to my husband and myself for 
 years, and we both mourned his loss very sincerely. That, 
 and other troubles combined, had a serious effect upon my 
 health, and the doctors advised my immediate return to 
 England. When an officer dies in India, it is the custom 
 to sell all his minor effects by auction. Before this took 
 place, my husband asked me if there was anything belong- 
 ing to John Powles that I should like to keep in remem- 
 brance of him. The choice I made was a curious one. He 
 had possessed a dark green silk necktie, which was a fav- 
 orite of his, and when it became soiled I offered to turn it 
 for jiim, when it looked as good as new. Whereupon he 
 had worn it so long that it was twice as dirly as before, so 
 I turned it for him the second time, much to the amuse- 
 ment of the regiment. When I was asked to choose a 
 keepsake of him, I said, " Give me the green tie," and I 
 brought it to England with me. 
 
 The voyage home was a terrible affair. I was suffering 
 mentally and physically, to such a degree that I cannot 
 think of the time without a shudder. John Powles' death, 
 of course, added to my distress, and during the many 
 months that occupied a voyage "by long sea," I hoped 
 and expected that his spirit would appear to me. With 
 the very strong belief in the possibility of the return to 
 
THERE IS NO DEATFT. 65 
 
 earth of the departed — or rather, I should say, wiili my 
 strong belief in my belief — I lay awake night after night, 
 thinking to see my lost friend, who had so often promised 
 to come back to me. I even cried aloud to him to appear 
 and tell me where he was, or what he was doing, but I 
 never heard or saw a single thing. There was silence on 
 every side of me. Ten days only after I landed in England 
 I was delivered of a daughter, and when I had somewhat 
 recovered my health and spirits — when I had lost the 
 physical weakness and nervous excitability, to which most 
 medical men would have attributed any mysterious sights 
 or sounds I might have experienced before — then I com- 
 menced to k7iow and io/eel that John Powles was with me 
 again. I did not see him, but I felt his presence. I used 
 to lie awake at night, trembling under the consciousness 
 that he was sitting at my bedside, and I had no means of 
 penetrating the silence between us. Often I entreated him 
 to speak, but when a low, hissing sound came close to my 
 ear, I would scream with terror and rush from my room. 
 All my desire to see or communicate with my lost friend 
 had deserted me. The very idea was a terror. I was 
 horror-struck to think he had returned, and I would neither 
 sleep alone nor remain alone. I was advised to try a 
 livelier place than Winchester (where I then resided), and 
 a house was taken for me at Sydenham. But there, the 
 sense of the presence of John Powles was as keen as be- 
 fore, and so, at intervals, I continued to feel it for the 
 space of several years — until, indeed, I became an inquirer 
 into Spiritualism as a science. 
 
 I have related in the chapter that contains an account 
 of my first seance, that the only face I recognized as be- 
 longing to me was that of my friend John Powles, and 
 how excited I became on seeing it. It was that recognition 
 that brought back all my old longing and curiosity to 
 communicate with the inhabitants of the Unseen World. 
 As soon as I commenced investigations in my home circle, 
 John Powles was the very first spirit who spoke to me 
 through the table, and from that time until the present I 
 have never ceased to hold communion with him. He is 
 very shy, however, (as he was, whilst with us) of convers- 
 ing before strangers, and seldom intimates his presence 
 except I am alone. At such times, however, he will talk 
 
66 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 by the hour of all such topics as interested him during his 
 earth life. 
 
 Soon after it became generally known that I was 
 attending seances, I was introduced to Miss Showers, the 
 daughter of General Showers of the Bombay Army. This 
 young lady, besides being Httle more than a child — I 
 think she was about sixteen when we met — was not a pro- 
 fessional medium. The seances to which her friends were 
 invited to witness the extraordinary manifestations that 
 took place in her ])resence were strictly private. They 
 offered therefore an enormous advantage to investigators, 
 as the occurrences were all above suspicion, whilst Miss 
 Showers was good enough to allow herself to be tested in 
 every possible way. I shall have occasion to refer more 
 particularly to Miss Showers' mediumship further on — at 
 present, therefore, I will confine myself to those occasions 
 which afforded proofs of John Powles' presence. 
 
 Mrs. and Miss Showers were living in apartments when 
 I visited them, and there was no means nor opportunity of 
 deceiving their friends, even had they had any object in 
 doing so. I must add also, that they knew nothing of my 
 Indian life nor experiences, which were things of the past 
 long before I met them. At the first sitting Miss Showers 
 gave me for " spirit faces," she merely sat on a chair behind 
 the window curtains, which were pinned together half-way 
 up, so as to leave a V-shaped opening at the top. The 
 voice of " Peter " (Miss Showers' principal control) kept 
 talking to us and the medium from behind the curtains all 
 the time, and making remarks on the faces as they appeared 
 at the opening. Presently he said to me, " Mrs. Ross- 
 Church, here's a fellow says his name is Powles, and he 
 wants to speak to you, only he doesn't like to show him- 
 self because he's not a bit like what he used to be." " Tell 
 him not to mind that," I answered, "I shall know him 
 under an}'^ circumstances." "Well! if he was anything 
 like that, he was a beauty," exclaimed Peter ; and pre- 
 sently a face appeared which I could not, by any stretch 
 of imagination, decide to resemble in the slightest degree 
 my old friend. It was hard, stiff and unlifelike. After it 
 had disappeared, Peter said, " Powles says if you'll come 
 and sit with Rosie (Miss Showers) often, he'll look quite 
 like himself by-and-by," and of course I was only too 
 anxious to accept the invitation. 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 67 
 
 As I was setting out another evening to sit with Miss 
 Showers, the thought suddenly occurred to me to put the 
 green necktie in my pocket. My two daughters accom- 
 panied me on that occasion, but I said nothing to them 
 about the necktie. As soon as we had commenced, how- 
 ever, Peter called out, " Now, Mrs. Ross-Church, hand 
 over that necktie. Powles is coming." " What necktie ? " 
 I asked, and he answered, " Why Powles' necktie, of 
 course, that you've got in your pocket. He wants you to 
 put it round his neck." The assembled party looked at me 
 inquisitively as I produced the tie. The face of John 
 Powles appeared, very different from the time before, as he 
 had his own features ahd complexion, but his hair and 
 beard (which were auburn during life) appeared phos- 
 phoric, as though made of living fire. I mounted on a chair 
 and tied the necktie round his throat, and asked him if he 
 would kiss me. He shook his head. Peter called out, 
 " Give him your hand." I did so, and as he kissed it, his 
 moustaches burned me. I cannot account for it. I can 
 only relate the fact. After which he disappeared with 
 the necktie, which I have never seen since, though we 
 searched the little room for it thoroughly. 
 
 The next thing I have to relate about John Powles is so 
 startling that I dread the criticism it will evoke ; but if I 
 had not startling stories to tell, I should not consider them 
 worth writing down. I left my house in Bayswater one 
 Sunday evening to dine with Mr. and Mrs. George Neville 
 in Regent's Park Terrace, to have a j-^f^;/^.? afterwards with 
 Miss Showers. There was a large company present, and 
 I was placed next to Miss Showers at table. During din- 
 ner she told me complainingly that her mother had gone to 
 Norwood to spend the night, and she (Rosie) was afraid 
 of sleeping alone, as the spirits worried her so. In a 
 moment it flashed across me to ask her to return to Bays- 
 water and sleep with me, for I was most desirous of test- 
 ing her powers when we were alone together. Miss Showers 
 accepted my invitation, and we arranged that she should 
 go home with me. After dinner, the guests sat for a searice, 
 but to everybody's surprise and disappointment, nothing 
 occurred. It was one o'clock in the morning when Miss 
 Showers and I entered a cab to return to Bayswater. We 
 had hardly started when we were greeted with a loud peal 
 of laughter close to our ears. " What's the matter, Peter ? " 
 
68 THERE IS NO DEATH, 
 
 demanded Miss Showers. " I can't help laiigliing," he 
 replied, " to think of their faces when no one appeared ! 
 Did 'you suppose I was going to let you waste all your 
 power with them, when I knew I was going home with you 
 and Mrs, Ross-Church? I mean to show you what a real 
 good sea/ice is to-niglit." 
 
 When we reached home I let myself in with a latchkey. 
 The house was full, for I had seven children, four servants, 
 and a married sister staying with me ; but they were all in 
 bed and asleep. It was cold weather, and when I took Miss 
 Showers into my bedroom a fire was burning in the grate. 
 My sister was occupying a room which opened into mine ; 
 but I locked her door and my own, and put the keys under 
 my pillow. Miss Showers and I then undressed and got 
 into bed. When we had extinguished the gas, we found 
 the room was, comparatively speaking, light, for I had 
 stirred the fire into a blaze, and a street lamp just opposite 
 the window threw bars of light through the Venetian blinds, 
 right across the ceiling. As soon as Miss Showers had 
 settled herself in bed, she said, " I wonder what Peter is 
 going to do," and I replied, " I hope he won't strip off the 
 bed-clothes." We were lying under four blankets, a 
 counterpane, and an eider-down duvet, and as I spoke, the 
 whole mass rose in the air, and fell over the end of the bed, 
 leaving us quite unprotected. We got up, lit a candle, and 
 made the bed again, tucking the clothes well in all round, 
 but the minute we laid down the same thing was repeated. 
 We were rather cross the second time, and abused Peter 
 for being so disagreeable, upon which the voice declared 
 he wouldn't do it any more, but we shouldn't have pro- 
 voked him to try. I said, " You had much better shew 
 yourself to us, Peter. That is what I want you to do." 
 He replied, " Here I am, my dear, close to you ! " I turned 
 my head, and there stood a dark figure beside the bed, 
 whilst another could be plainly distinguished walking about 
 the room. I said, " I can't see your face," and he replied, 
 *' I'll come nearer to you ! " Upon this the figure rose in 
 the air until it hung suspended, face downward, over the 
 bed. In this position it looked like a huge bat with out- 
 spread wings. It was still indistinct, except as to sub- 
 stance, but Peter said we had exhausted all the phosphorus 
 in our bodies by the long evening we had spent, and left 
 him nothing to light himself up with. After a while he 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 69 
 
 lowered himself on to the bed, and lay between Miss 
 Showers and myself on the outside of the duvet. To this 
 we greatly objected, as he was very heavy and took up a 
 great deal of room ; but it was some time before he would 
 go away. 
 
 During this manifestation, the other spirit, whom Peter 
 called the " Pope," kept walking about and touching every- 
 thing in the room, which was full of ornaments ; and Peter 
 called out several times, "Take care. Pope ! take care! 
 Don't break Mrs. Ross-Church's things." The two made 
 so much noise that they waked my sister in the adjoining 
 room, and she knocked at the door, asking in an alarmed 
 voice, " Florence ! whom have you there ? You will wake 
 the whole house." Wlien I replied, " Never mind, it's only 
 spirits," she gave one fell shriek and dived under her bed- 
 clothes. She maintains to this day that she fully believed 
 the steps and voices to be human. At last the manifesta- 
 tions became so rapid, as many as eight and ten hands 
 touching us at once, that I asked Miss Showers if she 
 would mind my tying hers together. She was very amiable 
 and consented willingly. I therefore got out of bed again, 
 and having securely fastened her hands in the sleeves of 
 the nightdress she wore, I sewed them with needle and 
 thread to the mattress. Miss Showers then said she felt 
 sleepy, and with her back to me — a position she was 
 obliged to maintain on account of her hands being sewn 
 down — she apparently dropt off to sleep, though I knew 
 subsequently s'ne was in a trance. 
 
 For some time afterwards nothing occurred, the figures 
 had disappeared, the voices ceased, and I thought the 
 seaJice was over. Presently, however, I felt a hand laid on 
 my head and the fingers began to gently stroke and pull 
 the short curls upon my forehead. I whispered, "Who is 
 this ? " and the answer came back, " Don't you know me ? 
 I am Powles ! At last — at last — after a silence of ten years 
 I see you and speak with you again, face to face." " How 
 can I tell this is your hand ? " I said. " Peter might be 
 materializing a hand in order to deceive me." The hand 
 immediately left my head and the back of it passed over my 
 mouth, when I felt it was covered with short hair. I then 
 remembered how hairy John Powles' hands had become 
 from exposure to the Indian sun whilst shooting, and how 
 I had nicknamed him " Esau " in consequence. I recol- 
 
70 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 lected also that he had dislocated the left wrist with a 
 cricket ball. " Let me feel your wrist," I said, and my 
 hand was at once placed on the enlarged bone. " I want 
 to trace your hand to where it springs from," I next sug- 
 gested ; and on receiving permission I felt from the fingers 
 and wrist to the elbow and shoulder, where it terminated in 
 the middle of Miss Showers' back. Still I was not quite 
 satisfied, for I used to find it very hard to believe in the 
 identity of a person I had cared for. I was so terribly 
 afraid of being deceived. " I want to see your face," I 
 continued. " I cannot show you my face to-night," the 
 voice replied, " but you shall feel it; " and the face, with 
 beard and moustaches, was laid for a moment against my 
 own. Then the hand was replaced on my hair, and whilst 
 it kept on pulling and stroking my curls, John Powles' 
 own voice spoke to me of everything that had occurred of 
 importance when he and I were friends on earth. Fancy, 
 two people who were intimately associated for years, meet- 
 ing alone after a long and painful separation, think of all 
 the private things they would talk about together, and you 
 will understand why I cannot write down the conversation 
 that took place between us that night here. In order to 
 convince me of his identity, John Powles spoke of all the 
 troubles I had passed through and was then enduring — he 
 mentioned scenes, both sad and merry, which we had 
 witnessed together ; he recalled incidents which had 
 slipped ray memory, and named places and people known 
 only to ourselves. Had I been a disbeliever in Spiritualism, 
 that night must have made a convert of me. Whilst the 
 voice, in the well-remembered tones of my old friend, was 
 speaking, and his hand wandered through my hair. Miss 
 Showers continued to sleep, or to appear to sleep, with her 
 back towards me, and her hands sewn into her nightdress 
 sleeves, and the sleeves sewn down to the bed. But had she 
 been wide awake and with both hands free, she could not 
 have spoken to me in John Powles' unforgotten voice of 
 things that had occurred when she was an infant and thou- 
 sands of miles away. And I affirm that the voice spoke to 
 me of things that no one but John Powles could possibly 
 have known. He did not fail to remind me of the promise 
 he had made, and the many times he had tried to fulfil it 
 before, and he assured me he should be constantly with 
 me from that time. It was daylight before the voice ceased 
 
THERE IS XO DEATH. 7I 
 
 speaking, and then both Miss Showers and I were so 
 exhausted, we could hardly raise our heads from the pil- 
 lows. I must not forget to add tliat when we did open 
 our eyes again upon this work-a-day world, we found there 
 was hardly an article in the room that had not changed 
 places. The pictures were all turned with their faces to the 
 wall — the crockery from the washstand was piled in the 
 fender — the ornaments from the mantel-piece were on the 
 dressing-table— in fact, the whole room was topsy-turvy. 
 
 When Mr. William Fletcher gave his first lecture in Eng- 
 land, in the Steinway Hall, my husband, Colonel Lean, and 
 I, went to hear him. We had never seen Mr. Fletcher 
 before, nor any of his family, nor did he know we were 
 amongst the audience. Our first view of him was when he 
 stepped upon the platform, and we were seated quite in the 
 body of the hall, which was full. It was Mr. Fletcher's 
 custom, after his lecture was concluded, to describe such 
 visions as were presented to him, and he only asked in 
 return that if the people and places were recognized, those 
 who recognized them would be brave enough to say so, 
 for the sake of the audience and himself. I can understand 
 that strangers who went there and heard nothing that con- 
 cerned themselves would be very apt to imagine it was all 
 humbug, and that those who claimed a knowledge of the 
 visions were simply confederates of Mr. Fletcher. But 
 there is nothing more true than that circumstances alter 
 cases. I entered Steinway Hall as a perfect stranger, and 
 as a press-writer, quite prepared to expose trickery if I 
 detected it. And this is what I heard. After Mr. Fletcher 
 had described several persons and scenes unknown to me, 
 he took out a handkerchief and began to wipe his face, as 
 though he were very warm. 
 
 " I am no longer in England, now," he said. " The 
 scene has quite changed, and I am taken over the sea, 
 thousands of miles away, and I am in a chamber with all 
 the doors and windows open. Oh ! how hot it is ! I think 
 I am somewhere in the tropics. O ! I see why I have been 
 brought here ! It is to see a young man die ! This is a 
 death chamber. He is lying on a bed. He looks very 
 pale, and he is very near death, but he has only been ill a 
 short time. His hair is a kind of golden chestnut color, 
 and he has blue eyes. He is an Englishman, and I can 
 see the letter ' P ' above his head. He has not been happy 
 
72 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 on earth, and he is quite content to die. He pushes all 
 the influences that are round his bed away from him. Now 
 I see a lady come and sit down beside him. He holds her 
 hand, and appears to ask her to do something, and I hear 
 a strain of sweet music. It is a song he has heard in 
 happier limes, and on the breath of it his spirit passes away. 
 It is to this lady he seems to come now. She is sitting on 
 my left about half way down the hall. A little girl, with 
 her hands full of blue flowers, points her out to me. The 
 little girl holds up the flowers, and I see they are woven 
 into a resemblance of the letter F. She tells me that is the 
 initial letter of her mother's name and her own. And I see 
 this message written. 
 
 " * To my dearest friend, for such you ever were to me 
 from the beginning. I have been with you through all 
 your time of trial and sorrow, and I am rejoiced to see that 
 a happier era is beginning for you. I am always near you. 
 The darkness is fast rolling away, and happiness will suc- 
 ceed it. Pray for me, and I shall be near you in your 
 prayers. I pray God to bless you and to bless me, and to 
 bring us together again in the summer land.' 
 
 " And I see the spirit pointing with his hand far away, 
 as though to intimate that the happiness he speaks of is 
 only the beginning of some that will extend to a long dis- 
 tance of time. I see this scene more plainlv than any I 
 have ever seen before." 
 
 These words were written down at the time they were 
 spoken. Colonel Lean and I were sitting in the very spot 
 indicated by Mr. Fletcher, and the little girl with the blue 
 flowers was my spirit child, " Florence," whose history I 
 shall give in the next chapter. But my communications 
 with John Powles, though very extraordinary, were not 
 satisfactory to me. I am the " Thomas, surnamed Didy- 
 mus," of the spiritualistic world, who wants to see and 
 touch and handle before I can altogether believe. I 
 wanted to meet John Powles and talk with him face to 
 face, and it seemed such an impossibility for him to mate- 
 rialize in the light that, after his two failures with Miss 
 Showers, he refused to try. I was always worrying him to 
 tell me if we should meet in the body before I left this 
 world, and his answer was always, " Yes ! but not just 
 yet ! " I had no idea then that I should have to cross the 
 Atlantic before I saw my dear old friend again. 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 73 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 MY SPIRIT CHILD. 
 
 The same year that John Powles died, i860, I passed 
 through the greatest trouble of my hfe. It is quite un- 
 necessary to my narrative to relate what thai trouble was, 
 nor how it affected me, but I suffered terribly both in mind 
 and body, and it was chiefly for this reason that the medi- 
 cal men advised my return to England, which I reached on 
 the 14th of December, and on the 30th of the same month 
 a daughter was born to me, who survivedher birth for only 
 ten days. The child was born with a most peculiar 
 blemish, which it is necessary for the purpose of my argu- 
 ment to describe. On the left side of the upper lip was a 
 mark as though a semi-circular piece of flesh had been cut 
 out by a bullet-mould, which exposed part of the gum. 
 The swallow also had been submerged in the gullet, so that 
 she had for the short period of her earthly existence to be 
 fed by artificial means, and the jaw itself had been so 
 twisted that could she have lived to cut her teeth, the 
 double ones would have been in front. This blemish was 
 considered to be of so remarkable a type that Dr. Frede- 
 rick Butler of Winchester, who attended me, invited several 
 other medical men, from Southampton and other places, to 
 examine the infant with him, and they all agreed that a 
 similar case had never come tctider their notice before. This 
 is a very important factor in my narrative. I was closely 
 catechized as to whether I had suffered any physical or 
 mental shock, that should account for the injury to my 
 child, and it was decided that the trouble I had experienced 
 was suflScient to produce it. The case, under feigned names, 
 was fully reported in the Lancet as something quite out of 
 the common way. My little child, who was baptized by the 
 name of '"'Florence," lingered until the loth of January, 
 186 1, and then passed quietly away, and when my first 
 natural disappointment was over I ceased to think of her 
 except as of something which " might have been," but 
 
74 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 never would be again. In this world of misery, the loss of 
 an infant is soon swallowed up in more active trouble. 
 Still I never quite forgot my poor baby, perhaps because at 
 tliat time she was Iiappily the " one dead Iamb " of my little 
 flock. In recounting the events of my first seance with Mrs. 
 Holmes, I have mentioned how a young girl much muffled 
 up about the mouth and chin appeared, and intimated that 
 she came for me, altliough I could not recognize her. I was 
 so ignorant of the life beyond the grave at that period, that 
 it never struck me that the baby who had left me at ten 
 days old had been growing since our separation, until she 
 had reached the age of ten years. I could not inter])iet 
 Longfellow (whom I consider one of the sublimest spirit- 
 ualists of the age) as I can now. 
 
 •' Day after day we think what she is doing, 
 In those bright realms of air : 
 Year after year, her tender steps pursuing. 
 Behold her grown more fair. 
 
 *' Not as a child shall we again behold her : 
 
 For when, with rapture wild, 
 In our embraces we again enfold her. 
 
 She will not be a child ; 
 But a fair maiden in her father's mansion. 
 
 Clothed with celestial grace. 
 And beautiful with all the soul's expansion. 
 
 Shall we behold her face ! '■■ 
 
 The first seance made such an impression on my mind 
 that two nights afterwards I again presented luysclf (this 
 time alone) at Mrs. Holmes' rooms to attend another. It 
 was a very different circle on the second occasion. There 
 were about thirty people present, all strangers to each 
 other, and the manifestations were proportionately ordi- 
 nary. Another professional medium, a Mrs. Davenport, 
 was present, as one of her controls, whom she called 
 " Bell," had promised, if possible, to show her face to her. 
 As soon, therefore, as the first spirit face appeared (which 
 was that of the same little girl that I had seen before), 
 Mrs. Davenport exclaimed, " There's ' Bell,' " " Why ! " 
 I said, •' that's the little nun we saw on Monday." " O ! 
 no! that's my 'Bell,'" persisted Mrs. Davenport. But 
 Mrs. Holmes took my side, and was positive the spirit 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 75 
 
 came for me. She told me she had been trying to com- 
 municate with her since the previous seance. " I know 
 she is nearly connected with you," she said. " Have you 
 never lost a relation of her age? "" " Never /" I replied ; 
 and at that declaration the little spirit moved away, sor- 
 rowfully as before. 
 
 A few weeks after I received an invitation from Mr. 
 Henry Dunphy (the gentleman who had introduced me to 
 Mrs. Holmes) to attend a private seance, given at his own 
 house in Upper Gloucester Place, by the well-known 
 medium Florence Cook. The double drawing-rooms were 
 divided by velvet curtains, behind which Miss Cook was 
 seated in an arm-chair, the curtains being pinned together 
 half-way up, leaving a large aperture in the shape of a V. 
 Being a complete stranger to Miss Cook, I was surprised 
 to hear the voice of her control direct that / should stand 
 by the curtains and hold the lower parts together whilst 
 the forms apjieared above, lest the pins should give way, 
 and necessarily from my position I could hear every word 
 that passed between Miss Cook and her guide. The first 
 face that showed itself was that of a man unknown to me ; 
 then ensued a kind of frightened colloquy between the 
 medium and her control. " Take it away. Go away ! 
 I don't like you. Don't touch me — you frighten me ! Go 
 away ! " I heard Miss Cook exclaim, and then her guide's 
 voice interposed itself, " Don't be silly, Florrie. Don't 
 be unkind. It won't hurt you," etc., and immediately 
 afterwards the same little girl I had seen at Mrs. Holmes' 
 rose to view at the aperture of the curtains, muffled up as 
 before, but smiling with her eyes at me. I directed the 
 attention of the company to her, calHng her again my 
 "little nun." I was surprised, however, at the evident 
 distaste Miss Cook had displayed towards the spirit, and 
 when the seance was concluded and she had regained her 
 normal condition, I asked her if she could recall the faces 
 she saw under trance. "Sometimes," she replied. I told 
 her of the " little nun," and demanded the reason of her 
 apparent dread of her. " I can hardly tell you," said Miss 
 Cook ; " I don't know anything about her. She is quite 
 a stranger to me, but her face is not fully developed, I 
 think. There is sovicthing wrong about her mouth. She 
 frightens me." 
 
 This remark, though made with the utmost carelej^ness, 
 set me thinking, and after I had returned home, I Wfote to 
 
76 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 Miss Cook, asking her to inquire of her guides who the 
 little spirit was. 
 
 She replied as follows : 
 
 " Dear Mrs. Ross-Church, I have asked ' Katie King,' 
 but she cannot tell me anything further about the spirit 
 that came through me the other evening than that she is a 
 young girl closely connected with yourself." 
 
 I was not, however, yet convinced of the spirit's iden- 
 tity, although "John Powles " constantly assured me that 
 it was my child. I tried hard to communicate with her at 
 home, but without success. I find in the memoranda I 
 kept of our private seances at that period several messages 
 from " Powles " referring to " Florence." In one he says, 
 " Your child's want of power to communicate with you is 
 not because she is too pure, but because she is too weak. 
 She will speak to you some day. She is not in heaven." 
 This last assertion, knowing so little as I did of a future 
 state, both puzzled and grieved me. I could not believe 
 that an innocent infant was not in the Beatific Presence — 
 yet I could not understand what motive my friend could 
 have in leading me astray. I had yet to learn that once 
 received into Heaven no spirit could return to earth, and 
 that a spirit may have a training to undergo, even though 
 it has never committed a mortal sin. A further proof, 
 however, that my dead child had never died was to reach 
 me from a quarter where I least expected it. I was editor 
 of the magazine London Society at that time, and amongst 
 my contributors was Dr. Keningale Cook, who had mar- 
 ried Mabel Collins, the now well-known writer of spiritual- 
 istic novels. One day Dr. Cook brought me an invitation 
 from his wife (whom I had never met) to spend Saturday 
 to Monday with them in their cottage at Redhill, and I ac- 
 cepted it, knowing nothing of the procHvities of either of 
 them, and they knowing as little of my private history as 
 I did of theirs. And I must take this opportunity to ob- 
 serve that, at this period, I had never made my lost child 
 the subject of conversation even with my most intimate 
 friends. The memory of her life and death, and the trou- 
 bles that caused it, was not a happy one, and of no interest 
 to any but myself. So little, therefore, had it been dis- 
 cussed amongst us that until " Florence " reappeared to 
 revive the topic, my elder children were ignorant that 
 their sister had been marked in any way differently from 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 77 
 
 themselves. It may, therefore, be supposed how unlikely 
 it was tliat utter strangers and public media should have 
 gained any inkling of the matter. I went down to Redhill, 
 and as I was sitting with the Keningale Cooks after dinner, 
 the subject of Spiritualism came on the tapis, and I was 
 informed that the wife was a powerful trance medium, 
 which much interested me, as I had not, at that period, 
 had any experience of her particular class of mediumship. 
 In the evening we " sat " together, and Mrs. Cook having 
 become entranced, her husband took shorthand notes of 
 her utterances. Several old friends of their family spoke 
 through her, and I was listening to them in the listless 
 manner in which we hear the conversation of strangers, 
 when my attention was aroused by the medium suddenly 
 leaving her seat, and falling on her knees before me, kiss- 
 ing my hands and face, and sobbing violently the while. 
 I waited in expectation of hearing who this might be, when 
 the manifestations as suddenly ceased, the medium re- 
 turned to her seat, and the voice of one of her guides said 
 that the spirit was unable to speak through excess of emo- 
 tion, but would try again later in the evening. I had almost 
 forgotten the circumstance in listening to other communi- 
 cations, when I was startled by hearing the word 
 ^^ Mother I" sighed rather than spoken. I was about to 
 make some excited reply, when the medium raised her 
 hand to enjoin silence, and the following communication 
 was taken down by Mr. Cook as she pronounced the 
 words. The sentences in parentheses are my replies to 
 her. 
 
 " Mother ! I am ' Florence.' I must be very quiet. I 
 want to feel I have a mother still. I am so lonely. Why 
 should I be so ? I cannot speak well. I want to be like 
 one of you. I want to feel I have a mother and sisters. 
 I am so far away from you all now." 
 
 (" But I always think of you, my dear dead baby.") 
 " That's just it — your baby. But I'm not a baby now. 
 I shall get nearer. They tell me I shall. I do not know 
 if I can come when you are alone. It's all so dark. I 
 know you are there, but ji? dimly. I've grown all by 7ny- 
 self. I'm not really unhappy, but I want to get nearer 
 you. I know you think of me, but you think of me as a 
 baby. You don't know me as I am. You've seen me, 
 because in my love I have forced myself upon you. I've 
 
78 THERE IS NO DEATH, 
 
 not been amongst the flowers yet, but I shall be, very soon 
 now; but I want my tnother to take me there. AH has 
 been given me that can be given me, but I cannot receive 
 it, except in so far " 
 
 Here she seemed unable to express herself. 
 
 (" Did the trouble I had before your birth affect your 
 spirit, Florence? ") 
 
 " Only as things cause each other ; I was with you, 
 mother, all through that trouble. I should be nearer to 
 you, than any child you have, if I could only get close to 
 you." 
 
 (" I can't bear to hear you speak so sadly, dear. I have 
 always believed that^y^?/, at least, were happy in Heaven.") 
 
 " I am not in Heaven ! But there will come a day, 
 mother — I can laugh when I say it — when we shall go to 
 heaven together and pick blue flowers — blue flowers. They 
 are so good to me here, but if your eye cannot bear the 
 daylight you cannot see the buttercups and daisies." 
 
 I did not learn till afterwards that in the spiritual lan- 
 guage blue flowers are typical of happiness. The next 
 question I asked her was if she thought she could write 
 through me. 
 
 " I don't seem able to write through you, but why, I 
 know not," 
 
 (" Do you know your sisters, Eva and Ethel ? ") 
 
 " No I no ! " in a weary voice. " The link of sisterhood 
 is only through the mother. That kind of sisterhood does 
 not last, because there is a higher." 
 
 (" Do you ever see your father? ") 
 
 " No ! he is far, far away. I went once, not more. 
 Mother, dear, he'll love me when he comes here. They've 
 told me so, and they always tell truth here ! I am but a 
 child, yet not so very little. I seem composed of two 
 things — a child in ignorance and a woman in years. Why 
 can't I speak at other places ? \ have wished and tried ! 
 I've come very near, but it seems so easy to speak now. 
 This medium seems so different." 
 
 (" I wish you could come to me when I am alone, 
 Florence.") 
 
 " You shall know me ! I will come, mother, dear. I 
 shall always be able to come here. I do come to you, but 
 not in the same way." 
 
 She spoke in such a plaintive, melancholy voice that Mrs. 
 Cook, thinking she would depress my spirits, said, " Don't 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 79 
 
 make your stale out to be sadder than it really is." Her 
 reply was very remarkable. 
 
 " T am, as I am ! Friend ! when you come here, if you 
 find that sadness is, you will not be able to alter it by 
 plunging into material pleasures. Our sadness makes the 
 world we live in. It is not deeds that make us wrong. 
 It is the state in which ^ue were born. Mother I you say I 
 died sinless. That is nothing. I was born /// a state. 
 Had I lived, I should have caused you more pain than you 
 can know. I am better here. I was not fit to battle with 
 the world, and they took me from it. Mother ! you won't 
 let this make you sad. You must not." 
 
 (" What can I do to bring you nearer to me ? ") 
 
 " I don't know what will bring me nearer, but I'm helped 
 already by just talking to you. There's a ladder of bright- 
 ness — every step. I believe I've gained just one step now. 
 O ! the Divine teachings are so mysterious. Mother! does 
 it seem strange to you to hear your 'baby ' say things as if 
 she knew them ? I'm going now. Good-bye 1 " 
 
 And so " Florence " went. The next voice that spoke 
 was that of a guide of the medium, and I asked her for a 
 personal description of my daughter as she then appeared. 
 She replied, " Her face is downcast. We have tried to 
 cheer her, but she is very sad. It is the state in which she 
 was borfi. Every physical deformity is the mark of a con- 
 dition. A weak body is not necessarily the mark of a 
 weak spirit, but the prison of it, because the spirit might 
 be too passionate otherwise. You cannot judge in what 
 way the mind is deformed because the body is deformed. 
 It does not follow that a canker in the body is a canker in 
 the mind. But the mind may be too exuberant — may need 
 a canker to restrain it." 
 
 I have copied this conversation, word for word, from 
 the shorthand notes taken at the time of utterance ; and 
 when it is remembered that neither Mrs. Keningale Cook 
 nor her husband knew that I had lost a child — that they 
 had never been in my house nor associated with any of 
 my friends — it will at least be acknowledged, even by the 
 most sceptical, that it was a very remarkable coincidence 
 that I sliould receive such a communication from the lips 
 of a perfect stranger. Only once after this did " Florence " 
 communicate with me tlirough the same source. .She found 
 congenial media nearer home, and naturally availed herself 
 
8o THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 of them. But the second occasion was ahnost more con- 
 vincing than the first. I went one afternoon to consult 
 my soh'citor in the strictest confidence as to how I should 
 act under some very painful circumstances, and he gave me 
 his advice. The next morning as I sat at breakfast, Mrs. 
 Cook, who was still living at Redhill, ran into my room 
 with an apology for the unceremoniousness of her visit, on 
 the score that she had received a message for me the night 
 before which "Florence" had begged her to deliver with- 
 out delay. The message was to this effect : " Tell my 
 mother that I was with her this afternoon at the lawyer's, 
 and she is 7iot to follow the advice given her, as it will do 
 harm instead of good." Mrs. Cook added, " I don't know 
 to what ' Florence ' alludes, of course, but I thought it 
 best, as I was coming to town, to let you know at once." 
 
 The force of this anecdote does not lie in the context. 
 The mystery is contained in the fact of a secret interview 
 having been overheard and commented upon. But the 
 truth is, that having greater confidence in the counsel of 
 my visible guide than in that of ray invisible one, I abided 
 by the former, and regretted it ever afterwards. 
 
 The first conversation I held with " Florence " had a 
 great effect upon me. I knew before that my uncontrolled 
 grief had been the cause of the untimely death of her body, 
 but it had never struck me that her spirit would carry the 
 effects of it into the unseen world. It was a warning to 
 me (as it should be to all mothers) not to take the solemn 
 responsibility of maternity upon themselves without be- 
 ing prepared to sacrifice their own feelings for the sake of 
 their children. " Florence " assured me, however, that 
 communion with myself in my improved condition of 
 happiness would soon lift her spirit from its state of de- 
 pression, and consequently I seized every opportunity of 
 seeing and speaking with her. During the succeeding 
 twelve months I attended numerous seances with various 
 media, and my spirit child (as she called herself) never 
 failed to manifest through the influence of any one of 
 them, though, of course, in different ways. Through 
 some she touched me only, and always with an infant's 
 hand, that I might recognize it as hers, or laid her 
 mouth against mine that I might feel the scar upon her 
 lip ; through others she spoke, or wrote, or showed her 
 face, but I never attended a seance at which she omitted 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 8 1 
 
 to notify her presence. Once at a dark circle, held with 
 Mr. Charles Williams, after having had my dress and that 
 of my next neighbor. Lady Archibald Campbell, pulled 
 several times as if to attract our attention, the darkness 
 opened before us, and there stood my child, smiling at us 
 like a happy dream, her fair hair waving about her temples, 
 and her blue eyes fixed on me. She was clothed in white, 
 but we saw no more than her head and bust, about wiiich 
 her hands held her drapery. Lady Archibald Campbell 
 saw her as plainly as I did. On another occasion Mr. 
 William Eglinton proposed to me to try and procure the 
 spirit-writing on his arm. He directed me to go into 
 another room and write the name of the friend I loved best 
 in the spirit world upon a scrap of paper, which I was to 
 twist up tightly and take back to him. I did so, writing 
 the name of " John Powles," When I returned to Mr. 
 Eglinton, he bared his arm, and holding the paper to the 
 candle till it was reduced to tinder, rubbed his flesh with 
 the ashes. I knew what was expected to ensue. The 
 name written on the paper was to reappear in red or white 
 letters on the medium's arm. The sceptic would say it 
 was a trick of thought-reading, and that, the medium know- 
 ing what I had written, had prepared the writing during 
 my absence. But to his surprise and mine, when at last 
 he shook the ashes from his arm, we read, written in a 
 bold, clear hand, the words — " Florence is the dearest," as 
 though my spirit child had given me a gentle rebuke for 
 writing any name but her own. It seems curious to me 
 now to look back and remember how melancholy she used 
 to be when she first came back to me, for as soon as she 
 had established an unbroken communication between us, 
 she developed into the merriest little spirit 1 have ever 
 known, and though her childhood has now passed away, 
 and she is more dignified and thoughtful and womanly, 
 she always appears joyous and happy. She has manifested 
 largely to me through the mediumship of Mr. Arthur Col- 
 man. I had known her, during a dark stance with a very 
 small private circle (the medium being securely held and 
 fastened the while) run about the room, like the child she 
 was, and speak to and kiss each sitter in turn, pulling off 
 the sofa and chair covers and piling them up in the middle 
 of the table, and changing the ornaments of everyone pre- 
 sent — placing the gentlemen's neckties round the throats 
 
 6 
 
82 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 of the ladies, and hanging the ladies' earrings in the but- 
 tonholes of the gentlemen's coats — just as she might have 
 done had she been still with us, a happy, petted child, on 
 earth. I have known her come in the dark and sit on my 
 lap and kiss my face and hands, and let me feel the defect 
 in her mouth with my own. One bright evening on the 
 9th of July — my birthday — Arthur Colman walked in quite 
 unexpectedly to pay me a visit, and as I had some friends 
 with me, we agreed to have q. seance. It was impossible to 
 make the room dark, as the windows were only shaded by 
 Venetian blinds, but we lowered them, and sat in the twi- 
 light. The first thing we heard was the voice of " Florence " 
 whispering — " A present for dear mother's birthday," when 
 something was put into my hand. Then she crossed to 
 the side of a lady present and dropped something into her 
 hand, saying, " And a present for dear mother's friend ! " 
 I knew at once by the feel of it that what " Florence" had 
 given me was a chaplet of beads, and knowing how often, 
 under similar circumstances, articles are merely carried 
 about a room, I concluded it was one which lay upon my 
 drawing-room mantel-piece, and said as much. I was 
 answered by the voice of " Aimee," the medium's nearest 
 control. 
 
 *' You are mistaken," she said, " ' Florence ' has given 
 you a chaplet you have never seen before. She was ex- 
 ceedingly anxious to give you a present on your birth- 
 day, so I gave her the beads which were buried with me. 
 They came from my coffin. I held them in my hand. 
 All I ask is, that you will not shew them to Arthur until I 
 give you leave. He is not well at present, and the sight of 
 them will upset him." 
 
 I was greatly astonished, but, of course, I followed her 
 instructions, and when I had an opportunity to examine 
 the beads, I found that they really were strangers to me, 
 and had not been in the house before. The present my 
 lady friend had received was a large, unset topaz. The 
 chaplet was made of carved wood and steel. It was not 
 till months had elapsed that I was given permission to show 
 it to Arthur Colman. He immediately recognized it as 
 the one he had himself placed in the hands of " Aimee " as 
 she lay in her coffin, and when I saw how the sight affected 
 him, I regretted I had told him anything about it. I offered 
 to give the beads up to him, but he refused to receive 
 them, and they remain in my possession to this day. 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 83 
 
 But the great climax that was to prove beyond all 
 question the personal identity of the spirit who communi- 
 cated with me, with the body I had brought into the world, 
 was yet to come. Mr. William Harrison, the editor of the 
 Spiritualist (who, after seventeen years' patient research 
 into the science of Spiritualism, had never received a per- 
 sonal proof of the return of his own friends, or relations) 
 wrote me word that he had received a message from his 
 lately deceased friend, Mrs. Stewart, to the effect that if he 
 would sit with the medium, Florence Cook, and one or two 
 harmonious companions, she would do her best to appear 
 to him in her earthly likeness and afford him the test he 
 had so long sought after. Mr. Harrison asked me, there- 
 fore, if I would join him and Miss Kidlingbury — the secre- 
 tary to the British National Association of Spiritualists — 
 in holding a sea?ice with Miss Cook, to which I agreed, 
 and we met in one of the rooms of the Association for that 
 purpose. It was a very small room, about 8 feet by 16 feet, 
 was uncarpeted and contained no furniture, so we carried 
 in three cane-bottomed chairs for our accommodation. 
 Across one corner of the room, about four feet from the 
 floor, we nailed an old black shawl, and placed a cushion 
 behind it for Miss Cook to lean her head against. Miss 
 Florence Cook^ who is a brunette, of a small, slight figure, 
 with dark eyes and hair which she wore in a profusion of 
 curls, was dressed in a high grey merino, ornamented with 
 crimson ribbons. She informed me previous to sitting, that 
 she had become restless during her trances lately, and in 
 the habit of walking out amongst the circle, and she asked 
 me as a friend (for such we had by that time become) to 
 scold her well should such a thing occur, and order her to 
 go back into the cabinet as if she were " a child or a dog ; " 
 and I promised her I would do so. After Florence Cook 
 had sat down on the floor, behind the black shawl (which 
 left her grey merino skirt exposed), and laid her head 
 against the cushion, we lowered the gas a little, and took 
 our seats on the three cane chairs. The medium appeared 
 very uneasy at first, and we heard her remonstrating with 
 the influences for using her so roughly. In a few minutes, 
 however, there was a tremulous movement of the black 
 shawl, and a large white hand was several times thrust into 
 view and withdrawn again. I had never seen Mrs. Stewart 
 (for whom we were expressly sitting) in this life, and could 
 
84 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 not, therefore, recognize the hand ; but we all remarked 
 how large and white it was. In another minute the shawl 
 was lifted up, and a female figure crawled on its hands and 
 knees from behind it, and then stood up and regarded us. 
 It was impossible, in the dim light and at the distance she 
 stood from us, to identify the features, so Mr. Harrison 
 asked if she were Mrs. Stewart. The figure shook its head. 
 I had lost a sister a {^\v months previously, and the thought 
 flashed across me that it might be her, '^ Is it you, Emily ? " 
 I asked ; but the head was still shaken to express a nega- 
 tive, and a similar question on the part of Miss Kidling- 
 bury, with respect to a friend of her own, met with the 
 same response. " Who can it be ? " I remarked curiously 
 to Mr. Harrison. 
 
 " Mother ! don't you know me ? " sounded in " Flor- 
 ence's " whispering voice. I started up to approach her, 
 exclaiming, " O ! my darling child ! I never thought I 
 should meet you here ! " But she said, " Go back to your 
 chair, and I will come to you ! " I reseated myself, and 
 "' Florence " crossed the room and sat down on my lap. 
 She was more unclothed on that occasion than any mate- 
 rialized spirit I have ever seen. She wore nothing on her 
 head, only her hair, of which she appears to have an im- 
 mense quantity, fell down her back and covered her 
 shoulders. Her arms were bare and her feet and part of 
 her legs, and the dress she wore had no shape or style, but 
 seemed like so many yards of soft thick muslin, wound 
 round her body from the bosom to below the knees. She 
 was a heavy weight — perhaps ten stone — and had well- 
 covered limbs. In fact, she was then, and has appeared 
 for several years past, to be, in point of size and shape, so 
 like her eldest sister Eva, that I always observe the re- 
 semblance between them. This seance took place at a 
 period when " Florence " must have been about seventeen 
 years old. 
 
 " Florence, my darling," I said, " is this really you ? " 
 " Turn up the gas," she answered, " and look at my mouth." 
 Mr. Harrison did as she desired, and we all saw distinctly 
 that peculiar defect 07i the lip with which she was born — 
 a defect, be it remembered, which some of the most ex- 
 perienced members of the profession had affirmed to be 
 " so rare as never to have fallen u?ider their ?wtice before,'^ 
 She also opened her mouth that we might see she had no 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 85 
 
 gullet. I promised at the commencement of my book to 
 confine myself to facts, and leave the deduction to be drawn 
 from them to my readers, so I will not interrupt my narra- 
 tive to make any remarks upon this incontrovertible proof 
 of identity. I know it struck me dumb, and melted me 
 into tears. At this juncture Miss Cook, who had been 
 moaning and moving about a good deal behind the black 
 shawl, suddenly exclaimed, " I can't stand this any longer," 
 and walked out into the room. There she stood in her 
 grey dress and crimson ribbons whilst " Florence " sat on 
 my lap in white drapery. But only for a moment, for 
 directly the medium was fully in view, the spirit sprung up 
 and darted behind the curtain. Recalling Miss Cook's 
 injunctions to me, I scolded her heartily for leaving her 
 seat, until she crept back, whimpering, to her former po- 
 sition. The shawl had scarcely closed behind her before 
 " Florence " reappeared and clung to me, saying, " Don't 
 let her do that again. She frightens me so." She was 
 actually trembling all over. " Why, Florence," I replied. 
 " Do you mean to tell me you are frightened of your me- 
 dium ? In this world it is we poor mortals who are fright- 
 ened of the spirits." " I am afraid she will send me away, 
 mother," she whispered. However, Miss Cook did not 
 disturb us again, and " Florence " stayed with us for some 
 time longer. She clasped her arms round my neck, and 
 laid her head upon my bosom, and kissed me dozens of 
 times. She took my hand and spread it out, and said she 
 felt sure I should recognize her hand when she thrust it out- 
 side the curtain, because it was so much like my own. I 
 was suffering much trouble at that time, and " Florence " 
 told me the reason God had permitted her to show herself 
 to me in her earthly deformity was so that I might be sure 
 that she was herself, and that Spiritualism was a truth to 
 comfort me. " Sometimes you doubt, mother," she said, 
 " and think your eyes and ears have misled you ; but after 
 this you must never doubt again. Don't fancy I am like 
 this in the spirit land. The blemish left me long ago. 
 But I put it on to-night to make you certain. Don't fret, 
 dear mother. Remember /am always near you. No one 
 can take me away. Your earthly children may grow up 
 and go out into the world and leave you, but you will always 
 have your spirit child close to you." I did not, and cannot, 
 calculate for how long " Florence " remained visible on 
 
86 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 that occasion. Mr. Harrison told me afterwards that she 
 had remained for nearly twenty minutes. But her un- 
 doubted presence was such a stupendous fact tome, that I 
 could only think that she was there — that I actually held 
 in my arms the tiny infant I had laid with my own hands 
 in her coffin — that she was no more dead than I was my- 
 self, but had grown to be a woman. So I sat, with my 
 arms tight round her, and my heart beating against hers, 
 until the power decreased, and " Florence " was compelled 
 to give me a last kiss and leave me stupefied and bewildered 
 by what had so unexpectedly occurred. Two other spirits 
 materialized and appeared after she had left us, but as 
 neither of them was Mrs. Stewart, the seance, as far as Mr. 
 Harrison was concerned, was a failure. I have seen and 
 heard " Florence "on numerous occasions since the one I 
 have narrated, but not with the mark upon her mouth, 
 which she assures me will never trouble either of us again. 
 I could fill pages with accounts of her pretty, caressing 
 ways and her affectionate and sometimes solemn messages ; 
 but I have told as much of her story as will interest the 
 general reader. It has been wonderful to me to mark how 
 her ways and mode of communication have changed with 
 the passing years. It was a simple child who did not know 
 how to express itself that appeared to me in 1873. It is a 
 woman full of counsel and tender warning that comes to 
 me in 1890. But yet she is only nineteen. When she 
 reached that age, " Florence " told me she should never 
 grow any older in years or appearance, and that she had 
 reached the climax of womanly perfection in the spirit world. 
 Only to-night — the night before Christmas Day — as I write 
 her story, she conies to me and says, " Mother ! you must 
 not give way to sad thoughts. The Past is past. Let it 
 be buried in the blessings that remain to you." 
 
 And amongst the greatest of those blessings I reckon 
 my belief in the existence of my spirit-child. 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH, 87 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE STORY OF EMILY. 
 
 My sister Emily was the third daughter of my late father, 
 and several years older than myself. She was a handsome 
 woman — strictly speaking, perhaps, the handsomest of the 
 family, and quite unlike the others. She had black hair 
 and eyes, a pale complexion, a well-shaped nose, and small, 
 narrow hands and feet. But her beauty had slight detrac- 
 tions — so slight, indeed, as to be imperceptible to strangers, 
 but well known to her intimate friends. Her mouth was a 
 little on one side, one shoulder was half an inch higher than 
 the other, her fingers were not quite straight, nor her toes, 
 and her hips corresponded with her shoulders. She was 
 clever, with a versatile, all-round talent, and of a very happy 
 and contented disposition. She married Dr, Henry Norris 
 of Charmouth, in Dorset, and lived there many years be- 
 fore her death. She was an excellent wife and mother, a 
 good friend, and a sincere Christian; indeed, I do not 
 believe that a more earnest, self-denying, better woman 
 ever lived in this world. But she had strong feelings, 
 and in some things she was very bigoted. One was Spirit- 
 ualism. She vehemently opposed even the mention of it, 
 declared it to be diabolical, and never failed to blame me 
 for pursuing such a wicked and unholy occupation. She 
 was therefore about the last person whom I should have 
 expected to take advantage of it to communicate with her 
 friends. 
 
 My sister Emily, died on the 20th of April, 1875. 
 Her death resulted from a sudden attack of pleurisy, 
 and was most unexpected. I was sitting at an early dinner 
 with my children on the same day when I received a tele- 
 gram from my brother-in-law to say, " Emily very ill ; will 
 telegraph when change occurs," and I had just despatched 
 an answer to ask if I should go down to Charmouth, or 
 could be of any use, when a second message arrived, " All 
 is over. She died quietly at two o'clock." Those who have 
 
SS THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 received similar shocks will understand what I felt. I was 
 quite stunned, and could not realize that my sister had 
 passed away from us, so completely unanticipated had been 
 the news. I made the necessary arrangements for going 
 down to her funeral, but my head was filled with nothing 
 but thoughts of Emily the while, and conjectures of how 
 she had died and oitvhat she had died (for that was, as yet, 
 unknown to me), and what she had thought and said; 
 above all, what she was thinking and feeling at that moment, 
 I retired to rest with my brain in a whirl, and lay half the 
 night wide awake, staring into the darkness, and wondering 
 where my sister was. Now was the time (if any) for my 
 cerebral organs to play me a trick, and conjure up a vision 
 of the person I was thinking of. But I saw nothing ; no 
 sound broke the stillness ; my eyes rested only on the dark- 
 ness. I was quite disappointed, and in the morning I told 
 my children so. I loved my sister Emily dearly, and I 
 hoped she would have come to wish me good-bye. On the 
 following night I was exhausted by want of sleep and the 
 emotion I had passed through, and when I went to bed I 
 was very sleepy. I had not been long asleep, however, 
 before 1 was waked up — I can hardly say by what — and 
 there at my bedside stood Emily, smiling at me. When I 
 lost my little " Florence," Emily had been unmarried, and 
 she had taken a great interest in my poor baby, and nursed 
 her during her short lifetime, and, I believe, really mourned 
 her loss, for (although she had children of her own) she 
 always wore a little likeness of " Florence " in a locket on 
 her watch-chain. When Emily died I had of course been 
 for some time in communication with my spirit-child, and 
 when my sister appeared to me that night, " Florence " was 
 in her arms, with her head resting on her shoulder. I 
 recognized them both at once, and the only thing which 
 looked strange to me was that Emily's long black hair was 
 combed right back in the Chinese fashion, giving her fore- 
 head an unnaturally high appearance. This circumstance 
 made the greater impression on me, because we all have 
 such high foreheads with the hair growing off the temples 
 that we have never been able to wear it in the style I speak 
 of. With this exception my sister looked beautiful and 
 most happy, and my little girl clung to her lovingly. Emily 
 did not speak aloud, but she kept on looking down at 
 " Florence," and up at me, whilst her lips formed the words, 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 89 
 
 " Little Baby," which was the name by which she had 
 always mentioned my spirir-child. In the morning I men- 
 tioned what I had seen to my elder girls, adding, " I hardly 
 knew dear Aunt Emily, with her hair scratched back in 
 that fashion." 
 
 This apparition happened on the Wednesday night, 
 and on the Friday following I travelled down to Char- 
 mouth to be present at the funeral, which was fixed 
 for Saturday. I found my sister Cecil there before me. 
 As soon as we were alone, she said to me, " I am so glad 
 you came to-day. I want you to arrange dear Emily nicely 
 in her coffin. The servants had laid her out before my 
 arrival, and she doesn't look a bit like herself. But I 
 haven't the nerve to touch her." It was late at night, but 
 I took a candle at once and accompanied Cecil to the 
 death-chamber. Our sister was lying, pale and calm, with 
 a smile upon her lips, much as she had appeared to me, 
 and with all her black hair combed back froin her forehead. 
 The servants had arranged it so, thinking it looked neater. 
 It was impossible to make any alteration till the morning, 
 but when our dear sister was carried to her grave, her hair 
 framed her dead face in the wavy curls in which it ahvays 
 fell when loose ; a wreath of flowering syringa was round 
 her head, a cross of violets on her breast, and in her waxen, 
 beautifully-moulded hands, she held three tall, white lilies. 
 I mention this because she has come to me since with the 
 semblance of these very flowers to ensure her recognition. 
 After the funeral, my brother-in-law gave me the details of 
 her last illness. He told me that on the Monday afternoon, 
 when her illness first took a serious turn and she became 
 (as he said) delirious, she talked continually to her father. 
 Captain Marryat (to whom she had been most reverentially 
 attached), and who, she affirmed, was sitting by the side of 
 the bed. Her conversation was perfectly rational, and only 
 disjointed when she waited for a reply to her own remarks. 
 She spoke to him of Langham and all that had happened 
 there, and particularly expressed her surprise at his having 
 a beard, saying, " Does hair grow up there, father? " I was 
 the more impressed by this account, because Dr. Norris, 
 like most medical men, attributed the circumstance entirely 
 to the distorted imagination of a wandering brain. And yet 
 my father (whom I have never seen since his death) has 
 been described to me by various clairvoyants, and always 
 
go THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 as wearing a beards a tiling he never did during his h'fetime, 
 as it was the fashion then for naval officers to wear only 
 side whiskers. In all his pictures he is represented as clean 
 shorn, and as he was so well known a man, one would 
 think that (were they dissembling) the clairvoyants, in 
 describing his personal characteristics, would follow the 
 clue given by his portraits. 
 
 For some time after my sister Emily's death I heard 
 nothing more of her, and for the reasons I have given, 
 I never expected to see her again until we met in 
 the spirit-world. About two years after her death, 
 however, my husband. Colonel Lean, bought two tickets 
 for a series of seances to be held in the rooms of the 
 British National Association of Spiritualists under the 
 the mediumship of Mr. William Eglinton. This was the 
 first time we had ever seen or sat with Mr. Eglinton, but 
 we had heard a great deal of his powers, and were curious 
 to test them. On the first night, which was a Saturday, 
 we assembled with a party of twelve, all complete strangers, 
 in the rooms I have mentioned, which were comfortably 
 lighted with gas. Mr. Eglinton, who is a young man in- 
 clined to stoutness, went into the cabinet, which was placed 
 in the centre of us, with spectators all round it. The cabi- 
 net was like a large cupboard, made of wood and divided 
 into two parts, the partition being of wire-work, so that the 
 medium might be padlocked into it, and a curtain drawn 
 in front of both sides. After a while, a voice called out to 
 us not to be frightened, as the medium was coming out to 
 get more power, and Mr. Eglinton, in a state of trance and 
 dressed in a suit of evening clothes, walked out of the cabi- 
 net and commenced a tour of the circle. He touched 
 every one in turn, but did not stop until he reached Colonel 
 Lean, before whom he remained for some time, making 
 magnetic passes down his face and figure. He then turned 
 to re-enter the cabinet, but as he did so, some one moved 
 the curtain from inside and Mr. Eglinton actually held the 
 curtain to one side to permit the materialized for )n to pass 
 out before he went into the cabinet himself. The figure 
 that appeared was that of a woman clothed in loose white 
 garments that fell to her feet. Her eyes were black and her 
 long black hair fell over her shoulders. I suspected at the 
 time who she was, but each one in the circle was so certain 
 she came for him or for her, that I said nothing, and only 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 91 
 
 mentally asKed if it were my sister that I might receive a 
 proof of her identity. On the following evening (Sunday) 
 Colonel Lean and I were " sitting " together, when Emily 
 came to the table to assure us that it was she whom we 
 had seen, and that she would appear again on Monday and 
 show herself more clearly. I asked her to think of some 
 means by which she could prove her identity with the spirit 
 that then spoke to us, and she said. " I will hold up my 
 right hand." Colonel Lean cautioned me not to mention 
 this promise to any one, that we might be certain of the 
 correctness of the test. Accordingly, on the Monday even- 
 ing we assembled for our second seance with Mr. Eglinton, 
 and the same form appeared, and walking out much closer 
 to us, held up the right hand. Colonel Lean, anxious not 
 to be deceived by his own senses, asked the company what 
 the spirit was doing. " Cannot you see ? " was the answer. 
 " She is holding up her hand." On this occasion Emily 
 came with all her old characteristics about her, and there 
 would have been no possibility of mistaking her (at least 
 on my part) without the proof she had promised to give 
 us. 
 
 The next startling assurance we received of her prox- 
 imity happened in a much more unexpected manner. We 
 were staying, in the autumn of the following year, at a 
 boarding-house in the Rue de Vienne at Brussels, with a 
 large party of English visitors, none of whom we had ever 
 seen till we entered the house. Amongst them were several 
 girls, who had never heard of Spiritualism before, and were 
 much interested in listening to the relation of our experi- 
 ences on the subject. One evening when I was not well, 
 and keeping my own room, some of these young ladies got 
 hold of Colonel Lean and said, "Oh ! do come and sit in 
 the dark with us and tell us ghost stories." Now sitting 
 in the dark and telling ghost stories to five or six nice 
 looking girls is an occupation few men would object to, 
 and they were all soon ensconced in the dark and deserted 
 salle-d-manger. Amongst them was a young girl of sixteen, 
 Miss Helen Hill, who had never shown more interest than 
 the rest in such matters. After they had been seated in 
 the dark for some minutes, she said to Colonel Lean, " Do 
 you know, I can see a lady on the opposite side of the table 
 quite distinctly, and she is nodding and smiling at you." 
 The colonel asked what the lady was like. " She is very 
 
gZ THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 nice looking," replied the girl, " with dark eyes and hair, 
 but she seems to want me to notice her ring. She wears 
 a ring with a large blue stone in it, of such a funny shape, 
 and she keeps on twisting it round and round her finger, 
 and pointing to it. Oh ! now she has got up and is walk- 
 ing round the room. Only fancy ! she is holding up her 
 feet for me to see. They are bare and very white, but her 
 toes are crooked ! " Then Miss Hill became frightened 
 and asked them to get a light. She declared that the figure 
 had come up, close to her, and torn the lace off her wrists. 
 And when the light was procured and her dress examined, 
 a frill of lace that had been tacked into her sleeve that 
 morning had totally disappeared. The young ladies grew 
 nervous and left the room, and Colonel Lean, thinking the 
 description Helen Hill had given of the spirit tallied with 
 that of my sister Emily, came straight up to me and sur- 
 prised me by an abrupt question as to whether she had 
 been in the habit of wearing any particular ring (for he had 
 not seen her for several years before her death). I told 
 him that her favorite ring was an uncut turquoise — so large 
 and uneven that she used to call it her " potato." " Had 
 she any peculiarity about her feet? " he went on, eagerly. 
 " Why do you wish to know? " I said. " She had crooked 
 toes, that is all." " Good heavens ! " he exclaimed, " then 
 she has been with us in the salle-d-manger.'''' I have never 
 met Miss Hill since, and I am not in a position to say if she 
 has evinced any further possession of clairvoyant power ; 
 but she certainly displayed it on that occasion to a remark- 
 able degree ; for she had never even heard of the existence 
 of my sister Emily, and was very much disturbed and 
 annoyed when told that the apparition she had described 
 was reality and not imagination. 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 93 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE STORY OF THE GREEN LADY. 
 
 The story I have to tell now happened a very short time 
 ago, and every detail is as fresh in my mind as if I had 
 heard and seen it yesterday. Mrs, Guppy-Volckman has 
 been long known to the spiritualistic world as a very power- 
 ful medium, also as taking a great private interest in Spirit- 
 ualism, which all media do not. Her means justify her, too, 
 in gratifying her whims ; and hearing that a certain house 
 in Broadstairs was haunted, she became eager to ascertain 
 the truth. The house being empty, she procured the keys 
 from the landlord, and proceeded on a voyage of discovery 
 alone. Slie had barely recovered, at the time, from a most 
 dangerous illness, which had left a partial paralysis of the 
 lower limbs behind it ; it was therefore with considerable 
 difficulty that she gained the drawing-room of the house, 
 which was on the first floor, and when there she abandoned 
 her crutches, and sat down o\\ the floor to recover herself. 
 Mrs. Volckman was now perfectly alone. She had closed 
 the front door after her, and she was moreover almost 
 helpless, as it was with great difficulty that she could rise 
 without assistance. It was on a summer's evening towards 
 the dusky hour, and she sat on the bare floor of the empty 
 house waiting to see what might happen. After some time 
 (I tell this part of the story as I received it from her lips) 
 she heard a rustling or sweeping sound, as of a long silk 
 train coming down the uncarpeted stairs from the upper 
 storey. The room in which she sat communicated with 
 another, which led out upon the passage, and it was not 
 long before the door between these two apartments opened 
 and the figure of a woman appeared. She entered the 
 room in which Mrs. Volckman sat, very cautiously, and 
 commenced to walk round it, feeling her way along the 
 walls as though she were blind or tipsy. She was dressed 
 in a green satin robe that swept behind her — round the 
 upper part of her body was a kind of scarf of glistening 
 
94 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 white material, like silk gauze — and on her head was a 
 black velvet cap, or coif, from underneath which her long 
 black hair fell down her back. Mrs. Volckman, although 
 used all her life to manifestations and apparitions of all 
 sorts, told me she had never felt so frightened at the sight 
 of one before. She attempted to rise, but feeling her in- 
 capability of doing so quickly, she screamed with fear. As 
 soon as she did so, the woman turned round and ran out 
 of the room, apparently as frightened as herself. Mrs. 
 Volckman got hold of her crutches, scrambled to her feet, 
 found her way downstairs, and reached the outside of the 
 house in safety. Most people would never have entered it 
 again. She, on the contrary, had an interview with the 
 landlord, and actually, then and there, purchased a lease 
 of the house and entered upon possession, and as soon as 
 it was furnished and ready for occupation, she invited a 
 party of friends to go down and stay with her at Broad- 
 stairs, and make the acquaintance of the " Green Lady," 
 as we had christened her. Colonel Lean and I were 
 amongst the visitors, the others consisting of Lady Archi- 
 bald Campbell, Miss Shaw, Mrs. Olive, Mrs. Bellesv, Colo- 
 nel Greek, Mr. Charles Williams, and Mr. and Mrs. Henry 
 Volckman, which, wth our host and hostess, made up a 
 circle of twelve. We assembled there on a bright day in 
 July, and the house, with its large rooms and windows 
 facing the sea, looked cheerful enough. The room in which 
 Mrs. Volckman had seen the apparition was furnished as a 
 drawing-room., and the room adjoining it, which was 
 divided by a portiere only from the. larger apartment, she 
 had converted for convenience sake into her bedroom. 
 The first evening we sat it was about seven o'clock, and 
 so light that we let down all the Venetians, which, however, 
 did little to remedy the evil. We had no cabinet, nor cur- 
 tains, nor darkness, for it was full moon at the time, and 
 the dancing, sparkling waves were quite visible through the 
 interstices of the Venetians. We simply sat round the table, 
 holding hands in an unbroken circle and laughing and 
 chatting with each other. In a few minutes Mrs. Volck- 
 man said something was rising beside her from the carpet, 
 and in a few more the " Green Lady " was visible to us all 
 standing between the medium and Mr. Williams. She was 
 just as she had been described to us, both in dress and 
 appearance, but her face was as white and as cold as that 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 95 
 
 of a corpse, and lier eyes were closed. She leaned over 
 the table and brought her face close to each of us in turn, 
 but she seemed to have no power of speech. After stay- 
 ing with us about ten minutes, she sunk as she had risen, 
 through tlie carpet, and disappeared. The next evening, 
 under precisely similar circumstances, she came again. 
 This time she had evidently gained more vitality in a ma- 
 terialized condition, for when I urged her to tell me her 
 name, she whispered, though with much difficulty, " Julia ! " 
 and when Lady Archibald observed that she thought she 
 had no hands, the spirit suddenly thrust out a little hand, 
 and grasped the curls on her forehead with a violence 
 that gave her pain. Unfortunately, Mr. Williams' profes- 
 sional engagements compelled him to leave us on the fol- 
 lowing day, and Mrs. Volckman had been too recently ill 
 to permit her to sit alone, so that we were not able to hold 
 another 5^a/^^(? for the "Green Lady" during our visit. 
 But we had not seen the last of her. One evening Mrs. 
 Bellew and I were sitting in the bay window of the draw- 
 ing-room, just " between the lights," and discussing a very, 
 private matter indeed, when I saw (as I thought) my 
 hostess maid raise the portiere that hung between the 
 apartments and stand there in a listening attitude. I im- 
 mediately gave Mrs. Volckman the hint. " Let us talk of 
 something else," I said, in a low voice. "Jane is in your 
 bedroom." " O ! no ! she's not," was the reply. " But I 
 saw her lift \\\q. portiere,' I persisted ; " she has only just 
 dropped it." " You are mistaken," replied my hostess, 
 " for Jane has gone on the beach with the child." I felt 
 sure I had not been mistaken, but I held my tongue and 
 said no more. The conversation was resumed, and as we 
 were deep in the delicate matter, the woman appeared for 
 the second time. 
 
 " Mrs. Volckman," I whispered, "Jane is really there. 
 She has just looked in again." 
 
 My friend rose from her seat. " Come with me," she 
 said, " and I will convince you that you are wrong." 
 
 I followed her into the bedroom, where she showed me 
 that the door communicating with the passage was locked 
 inside. 
 
 " Now, do you see," she continued, " that no one but 
 the * Green Lady ' could enter this room but through the 
 one we are sitting in." 
 
96 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 " Then it must have been the ' Green Lady,' " I replied, 
 " for I assuredly saw a woman standing in the door- 
 way." 
 
 " That is likely enough," said Mrs. Volckman ; "but if 
 she comes again she shall have the trouble of drawing back 
 the curtains." 
 
 And thereupon she unhooped the portiere, which con- 
 sisted of two curtains, and drew them right across the door. 
 We had hardly regained our seats in the bay window 
 before the two curtains were sharply drawn aside, making 
 the brass rings rattle on the rod, and the " Green Lady " 
 stood in the opening we had just passed through. Mrs. 
 Volckman told her not to be afraid, but to come out and 
 speak to us ; but she was apparently not equal to doing so, 
 and only stood there for a few mina^es gazing at us. I 
 imprudently left my seat and approached her, with a view 
 to making overtures of friendship, when she dropped the 
 curtains over her figure. I passed through them imme- 
 diately to the other side, and found the bedroom empty 
 and the door locked inside, as before. 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 97 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE STORY OF THE MONK. 
 
 A LADV named Uniacke, a resident in Bruges, whilst on a 
 visit to my house in London, met and had a seaiicew'xxh 
 WiUiam Eglinton, with which she was so delighted that she 
 immediately invited him to go and stay with her abroad, 
 and as my husband and I were about to cross over to 
 Bruges to see my sister, who also resided there, we travelled 
 in company — Mr. Eglinton living at Mrs. Uniacke's home, 
 whilst we stayed with our own relations. Mrs. Uniacke 
 was a medium herself, and had already experienced some 
 very noisy and violent demonstrations in her own house. 
 She was, therefore, quite prepared for her visitor, and had 
 fitted up a spare room with a cabinet and blinds to the 
 windows, and everything that was necessary. But, some- 
 what to her chagrin, we were informed at the first sitting 
 by Mr. Eglinton's control, " Joey," that all future seances 
 were to take place at my sister's house instead. We were 
 given no reason for the change ; we were simply told to 
 obey it. My sister's house was rather a peculiar one, and 
 I have already alluded te it, and some of the sights and 
 sounds by which it was haunted, in the chapter headed 
 "Optical Illusions." The building is so ancient that the 
 original date has been completely lost. A stone set into 
 one of the walls bore an inscription to the effect that it was 
 restored in the year 1616. And an obsolete plan of the 
 city shows it to have stood in its present condition in 1562. 
 Prior to that period, however, probably about the thirteenth 
 century, it is supposed, with three houses on either side of 
 it, to have formed a convent, but no printed record remains 
 of the fact. Beneath it are subterraneous passages, choked 
 with rubbish, which lead, no one knows whither. I had 
 stayed in this house several times before, and always felt 
 unpleasant influences from it, as I have related, especially 
 in a large room on the lower floor, then used as a drawing- 
 room, but which is said to have formed, originally, the 
 
 7 
 
98 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 chapel to the convent. Others had felt the influence 
 beside myself, though we never had had reason to suppose 
 tliat there was any particular cause for it. When we ex- 
 pressed curiosity, however, to learn why " Joey " desired 
 us to hold our seance in my sister's house, he told us that 
 the medium had not been brought over to Bruges for our 
 pleasure or edification, but that there was a great work to 
 be done there, and Mrs. Uniacke had been expressly 
 influenced to invite him over, that the purposes of a higlicr 
 power than his own should be accomplished. Conse- 
 quently, on the following evening Mrs. Uniacke brought 
 Mr. Eglinton over to my sister's house, and ** Joey " hav- 
 ing been asked to choose a room for the sitting, selected 
 an entresol on the upper floor, which led by two short pas- 
 sages to the bedrooms. The bedroom doors being locked 
 a dark curtain was hung at the entrance of one of these 
 passages, and "Joey " declared it was a first-rate cabinet. 
 We then assembled in the drawing-room, for the purposes 
 of music and conversation, for we intended to hold the 
 seance later in the evening. The party consisted only of 
 the medium, Mrs. Uniacke, my sister, my husband, and 
 myself. After I had sung a song or two, Mr. Eglinton 
 became restless and moved away from the piano, saying 
 the influence was too strong for him. He began walking 
 up and down the room, and staring fixedly at the door, 
 before which hung ti portiere. Several times he exclaimed 
 with knitted brows, '• What is the matter with that door? 
 There is something very peculiar about it," Once he 
 approached it quickly, but "Joey's " voice was heard from 
 behind the p^r//Vr^, saying, "Don't come too near." Mr. 
 Eglinton then retreated to a sofa, and appeared to be fight- 
 ing violently with some unpleasant influence. He made 
 the sign of the cross, then extended his fingers towards 
 the door, as though to exorcise it : finally he burst into a 
 mocking, scornful peal of laughter that lasted for some 
 minutes. As it concluded, a diabolical expression came 
 over his face. He clenched his hands, gnashed his teeth, 
 and commenced to grope in a crouching position towards 
 the door. We concluded he wished to get up to the room 
 where the 'cabinet was, and let him have his way. He 
 crawled, rather than walked, up the steep turret stairs, 
 but on reaching the top, came to himself suddenly and fell 
 back several steps. My husband, fortunately, was just 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 99 
 
 behind him and saved him from a fall. He complained 
 greatly of the influence and of a pain in his head, and we 
 sat at the table to receive directions. In a few seconds 
 the same spirit had taken possession of him. He left the 
 table and groped his way towards the bedrooms, listening 
 apparently to every sound, and with his hand holding an 
 imaginary knife which was raised every now and then as if 
 to strike. The expression on Mr. Eglinton's face during 
 this possession is too horrible to describe. The worst pas- 
 sions were written as legibly there as though they had been 
 labelled. There was a short flight of stairs leading from 
 the entresol to the corridor, closed at the head by a padded 
 door, which we had locked for fear of accident. When, 
 apparently in pursuit of his object, tb.e spirit led the 
 medium up to this door and he found it fastened, his moans 
 were terrible. Half-a-dozen times he made his weary 
 round of the room^ striving to get downstairs to accomplish 
 some end, and to return to us moaning and baffled. At 
 this juncture, he was so exhausted that one of his controls, 
 " Daisy," took possession of him and talked with us for 
 some time. We asked " Daisy " what the spirit was like 
 that had controlled Mr. Eglinton last, and she said she did 
 not like him — he had a bad face, no hair on the top of his 
 head, and a long black frock. From this we concluded he 
 had been a monk or a priest. When " Daisy " had fin- 
 ished speaking to us " Joey " desired Mr. Eglinton to go 
 into the cabinet ; but as soon as he rose, the same spirit 
 got possession again and led him grovelling as before to- 
 wards the bedrooms. His " guides " therefore carried him 
 into the cabinet before our eyes. He was elevated far 
 above our heads, his feet touching each of us in turn ; he 
 was then carried past the unshaded window, which enabled 
 us to judge of the height he was from ihe ground, and finally 
 over a large table, into the cabinet. 
 
 Nothing, however, of consequence occurred, and *' Joey" 
 advised us to take the medium downstairs to the supper 
 room. 
 
 Accordingly we adjourned there, and during supper Mr. 
 Eglinton appeared to be quite himself, and laughed with 
 us over what had taken place. As soon as the meal was 
 over, however, the old restlessness returned on him, and 
 he began pacing up and down the room, walking out every 
 now and then into the corridor. In a few minutes we per- 
 
loo THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 ceived that the uneasy spirit again controlled him, and we 
 all followed. He went steadily towards the drawing-room, 
 but, on finding himself pursued, turned back, and three 
 times pronounced emphatically the word " Go." He then 
 entered the drawing-room, which was in darkness, and 
 closed the door behind him, whilst we waited outside. In 
 a little while he reopened it, and speaking in quite a dif- 
 ferent voice, said '• Bring a light ! I have something to say 
 to you." When we reassembled with a lamp we found the 
 medium controlled by a new spirit, whom " Joey " after- 
 wards told us was one of his highest guides. Motioning us 
 to be seated, he stood before us and said, " I have been 
 selected from amongst the controls of this medium to tell 
 you the history of the unhappy being who has so disturbed 
 you this evening. He is present now, and the confession 
 of his crime through my lips will help him to throw off the 
 earthbound condition to which it has condemned him. 
 Many years ago, the house in which we now stand was a 
 convent, and underneath it were four subterraneous pas- 
 sages running north, south, east, and west, which commu- 
 nicated with all parts of the town. (I must here state that 
 Mr. Eglinton had not previously been informed of any 
 particulars relating to the former history of my sister's 
 home, neither were Mrs. Uniacke or myself acquainted 
 with it.) 
 
 " In this convent there lived a most beautiful woman — a 
 nun, and in one of the neighboring monasteries a priest 
 who, against the strict law of his Church, had conceived 
 and nourished a passion for her. He was an Italian who 
 had been obliged to leave his own country, for reasons 
 best known to himself, and nightly he would steal his way 
 to this house, by means of one of the subterraneous pas- 
 sages, and attempt to overcome the nun's scruples, and 
 make her listen to his tale of love ; but she, strong in the 
 faith, resisted him. At last, maddened one day by her 
 repeated refusals, and his own guilty passion, he hid him- 
 self in one of the northern rooms in the upper story of this 
 house, and watched there in the dark for her to pass him 
 on her way from her devotions in the chapel ; but she did 
 not come. Then he crept downstairs stealthily, with a 
 dagger hid beneath his robes, and met her in the hall. He 
 conjured her again to yield to him, but again she resisted, 
 and he stabbed her within the door on the very spot where 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. loi 
 
 the medium first perceived him. Her pure soul sought 
 immediate consolation in the spirit spheres, but his has 
 been chained down ever since to the scene of his awful 
 crime. He dragged her body down the secret stairs (which 
 are still existent) to the vaults beneath, and hid it in the 
 subterraneous passage. 
 
 " After a few days he sought it again, and buried it. He 
 lived many years after, and committed many other crimes, 
 though none so foul as this. It is his unhappy spirit that 
 asks your prayers to help it to progress. It is for lliis 
 purpose that we were brought to this city, that we might 
 aid in releasing the miserable soul that cannot rest." 
 
 I asked, " By what name shall we pray for him ? " 
 
 " Pray for ' the distressed Being.' Call him by no other 
 name." 
 
 " What is your own name ? " 
 
 ** I prefer to be unknown. May God bless you all and 
 keep you in the way of prayer and truth and from all evil 
 courses, and bring you to everlasting life. Amen." 
 
 The medium then walked up to the spot he had indicated 
 as the scene of the murder, and knelt there for some 
 minutes in prayer. 
 
 Thus concluded the first seance at which the monk was 
 introduced to us. But the next day as I sat at the table 
 with my sister only, the name of " Hortense Dupont "was 
 given us, and the following conversation was rapped out. 
 
 "Who are you?" 
 
 " I am the nun. I did love him. I couldn't help it It 
 is such a relief to think that he will be prayed for." 
 
 " When did he murder you ? " 
 
 " In 1498." 
 
 " What was his name ? " 
 
 " I cannot tell you." 
 
 " His age." 
 
 " Thirty-five ! " 
 
 ** And yours." 
 
 " Twenty-three." 
 
 "Are you coming to see us to-morrow? " 
 
 " I am not sure." 
 
 On that evening, by "Joey's " orders, we assembled at 
 seven. Mr. Eglinton did not feel the influence in the 
 drawing-room that day, but directly he entered the siance 
 room, he was possessed by the same spirit. His actions 
 
I02 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 were still more graphic than on the first occasion. He 
 watched from the window for the coming of his victim 
 through the courtyard, and then recommenced his crawling 
 stealthy pursuit, coming back each time from the locked 
 door that barred his egress with such heart-rending 
 moans that no one could have listened to him unmoved. 
 At last, his agony was so great, as he strove again and 
 again, like some dumb animal, to j^ass through the walls 
 that divided him from the spot he wished to visit, whilst 
 the persj^iration streamed down the medium's face with 
 the struggle, that we attempted to make him speak to us. 
 We implored him in French to tell us his trouble, and be- 
 lieve us to be his friends ; but he only pushed us away. 
 At last we were impressed to pray for him, and kneeling 
 down, we repeated all the well-known Catholic prayers. 
 As we commenced the ^' De Profundis " the medium fell 
 prostrate on the earth, and seemed to wrestle with his 
 agony. At the " Salve Regina " and " Ave Maria " he 
 lifted his eyes to heaven and clasped his hands, and in the 
 "Pater Noster " he appeared to join. But directly we 
 ceased praying the evil passions returned, and his face 
 became distorted in the thirst for blood. It was an experi- 
 ence tliat no one who had seen could ever forget. At last 
 my sister fetched a crucifix, which we placed upon his 
 breast. It had not been there many seconds before a 
 different expression came over his face. He seized it in 
 both hands, straining it to his eyes, lips, and heart, hold- 
 ing it from him at arm's length, then passionately kissing 
 it, as we repeated the '* Anima Christi." Finally, he held 
 the crucifix out for each of us to kiss ; a beautiful smile 
 broke out on the medium's face, and the spirit passed out 
 of him. 
 
 Mr. Eglinton awoke on that occasion terribly exhausted. 
 His face was as white as a sheet, and he trembled vio- 
 lently. His first words were : " They are doing some- 
 thing to my forehead. Burn a piece of paper, and give 
 me the ashes." He rubbed them between his eyes, when 
 the sign of the cross became distinctly visible, drawn in 
 deep red lines upon his forehead. The controls then said, 
 exhausted as Mr. Eglinton was, we were to place him in 
 the cabinet, as their work was not yet done. He was 
 accordingly led in trance to the arm-chair behind the cur- 
 tain, whilst we formed a circle in front of him. In a few 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 »o3 
 
 seconds the cabinet was illuminated, and a cross of fire 
 appeared outside of it. This manifestation having been 
 seen twice, the head and shoulders of a nun appeared 
 floating outside the curtain. Her white coif and " chin- 
 piece " were pinned just as the ''' religietises" are in the 
 habit of pinning them, and she seemed very anxious to 
 show herself, coming close to each of us in turn, and re- 
 appearing several times. Her face was that of a young 
 and pretty woman. " Joey " said, "That's the nun, but 
 you'll understand that this is only a preliminary trial, pre- 
 paratory to a more perfect materialization." I asked the 
 apparition if she were the " Hortense Dupont " that had 
 communicated through me, and she nodded her head 
 several times in acquiescence. Thus ended our second 
 siance with the Monk of Bruges. 
 
 On the third day we were all sitting at supper in 
 my sister's house at about ten o'clock at night, when 
 loud raps were heard about the room, and on giving 
 the alphabet, "Joey " desired us to go upstairs and sit, 
 and to have the door at the head of the staircase (which 
 we had hitherto locked for fear of accidents) left open ; 
 which we accordingly did. As soon as we were seated at 
 the table, the medium became entranced, and the same 
 pantomime which I have related was gone through. He 
 watched from the window that looked into the courtyard, 
 and silently groped his way round the room, until he had 
 crawled on his stomach up the stairs that led to the padded 
 door. When he found, however, that the obstacle that 
 had hitherto stood in his way was removed (by its being 
 open) he drew a long breath and started away for the 
 winding turret staircase, listening at the doors he passed 
 to find out if he were overheard. When he came to the 
 stairs, in descending which we had been so afraid 
 he might hurt himself^ he was carried down them in 
 the most wonderful manner, only placing his hand on 
 the balustrades, and swooping to the bottom in one 
 flight. We had placed a lamp in the hall, so that as we 
 followed him we could observe all his actions. When he 
 reached the bottom of the staircase he crawled on his 
 stomach to the door of the drawing-room (originally the 
 chapel) and there waited and listened, darting back into 
 the shadow every time he fancied he heard a sound. 
 Imagine our little party of four in that sombre old house, 
 
104 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 the only ones waking at that time of night, watching by 
 the ghastly light of a turned-down lamp the acting of that 
 terrible tragedy. We held our breath as the murderer 
 crouched by the chapel door, opening it noiselessly to 
 peep within, and then, retreating w'th his imaginary dagger 
 in his hand, ready to strike as soon as his victim appeared. 
 At last she seemed to come. In an instant he had sprung 
 to meet her, stabbing her first in a half-stooping attitude, 
 and then, apparently, finding her not dead, he rose to his 
 full height and stabbed her twice, straight downwards. For 
 a moment he seemed paralyzed at what he had done, 
 starting back with both hands clasped to his forehead. 
 Then he flung himself prostrate on the supposed body, 
 kissing the ground frantically in all directions. Presently 
 he woke to the fear of detection, and raised the corpse 
 suddenly in his arms. He fell once beneath the supposed 
 weight, but staggering to his feet again, seized and dragged 
 it, slipping on the stone floor as he went, to the head of 
 the staircase that led to the cellars below, where the 
 mouth of one of the subterraneous passages was still to 
 be seen. The door at the head of this flight was modern, 
 and he could not undo the lock, so, prevented from drag- 
 ging the body down the steps, he cast himself again upon 
 it, kissing the stone floor of the hall and moaning. At last 
 he dragged himself on his knees to the spot of the murder, 
 and began to pray. We knelt with him, and as he heard 
 our voices he turned on his knees towards us with out- 
 stretched hands. I suggested that he wanted the crucifix 
 again, and went upstairs to fetch it, when the medium 
 followed me. When I had found what I sought, he seized 
 it from me eagerly, and carrying it to the window, whence 
 he had so often watched, fell down again upon his knees. 
 After praying for some time he tried to speak to us. His 
 lips moved and his tongue protruded, but he was unable 
 to articulate. Suddenly he seized each of our hands in 
 turn in both of his own, and wrung them violently. He 
 tried to bless us, but the words would not come. The same 
 beautiful smile we had seen the night before broke out 
 over his countenance, the crucifix dropped from his hands, 
 and he fell prostrate on the floor. The next moment Mr. 
 Eglinton was asking us where he was and what on earth 
 had happened to him, as he felt so queer. He declared 
 himself fearfully exhausted, but said he felt that a great 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 105 
 
 calm and peace had come over him notwithstanding the 
 weakness, and he believed some great good had been 
 accomplished. He was not again entranced, but " Joey " 
 ordered the liglit to be put out, and spoke to us in the 
 direct voice as follows : — 
 
 " I've just come to tell you what I know you will be very 
 glad to hear, that through the medium's power, and our 
 power, and the great power of God, the unhappy spirit who 
 has been confessing his crime to you is freed to-night from 
 the heaviest part of his burden — the being earth-chained to 
 the spot. I don't mean to say that he will go away at once 
 to the spheres, because he's got a lot to do still to alter the 
 conditions under which he labors, but the worst is over. 
 This was the special work Mr. Eglinton was brought to 
 Bruges to do, and Ernest and I can truly say that, during 
 the whole course of our control of him, we have never had 
 to put forth our own powers, nor to ask so earnestly for the 
 help of God, as in the last three days. You have all helped 
 in a good work, — to free a poor soul from earth, and to set 
 him on the right road, and ^ve are grateful to you and to the 
 medium, as well as he. He will be able to progress rapidly 
 now until he reaches his proper sphere, and hereafter the 
 spirits of himself and the woman he murdered will work 
 together to undo for others the harm they brought upon 
 themselves. She is rejoicing in her high sphere at the 
 work we have done for him, and will be the first to help 
 and welcome him upward. There are many more earth- 
 bound spirits in this house and the surrounding houses 
 who are suffering as he was, though not to the same extent, 
 nor for the same reason. But they all ask for and need 
 your help and your prayers, and this is the greatest and 
 noblest end of Spiritualism — to aid poor, unhappy spirits 
 to free themselves from earth and progress upwards. After 
 a while when this spirit can control the medium with calm- 
 ness, he will come himself and tell you, through him, all his 
 history and how he came to fall. Meanwhile, we thank 
 you very much for allowing us to draw so much strength 
 from you and helping us with your sympathy, and I hope 
 you will believe me always to remain, your loving friend, 
 Joey." 
 
 This account, with very little alteration, was published 
 in the Spiritualist newspaper, August 29th, 1879, when 
 
Jo6 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 the seances had just occurred. Tliere is a sequel to the 
 slory, however, which is ahiiost as remarkable as itself, and 
 which has not appeared in print till now. From Bruges 
 on this occasion my husband and I went to Brussels, 
 where we diverted ourselves by means very dissimilar to 
 anything so grave as Spiritualism. There were many sales 
 going on in Brussels at that moment, and one of our amuse- 
 ments was to make a tour of the salerooms and inspect the 
 articles put up for competition. During one of these visits 
 I was much taken by a large oil pointing, in a massive 
 frame, measuring some six or seven feet square. It re- 
 presented a man in the dress of a Franciscan monk — i.e., 
 a brown serge robe, knotted with cords about the waist — 
 kneeling in prayer with outstretched hands upon a mass 
 of burning embers. It was labelled in the catalogue as 
 the picture of a Spanish monk of the order of Saint Francis 
 Xavier, and was evidently a painting of some value. I 
 was drawn to go and look at it several days in succession 
 before the sale, and I told my husband that I coveted its 
 possession. He laughed at me and said it would fetch a 
 great deal more money than we could afford to give 
 for it, in which opinion I acquiesced. Theday of the sale, 
 however, found us in our places to watch the proceedings, 
 and when the picture of the monk was put up I bid a small 
 sum for it. Col. Lean looked at me in astonishment, but 
 I whispered to him that I was only in fun, and I should 
 stop at a hundred francs. The bidding was very languid, 
 however, and to my utter amazement, the picture was 
 knocked down to me for seventy-two francs. I could 
 hardly believe that it was true. Directly the sale was con- 
 cluded, the brokers crowded round me to ask what I would 
 take for the painting, and they told me they had not thought 
 of bidding until it should have reached a few hundred 
 francs. But I told them I had got my bargain, and I meant 
 to stick by it. When we returned next day to make ar- 
 rangements for its being sent to us, the auctioneer informed 
 us that the frame alone in which it had been sent for sale 
 had cost three hundred francs, so that I was well satisfied 
 with my purchase. This occurrence took place a short 
 time before we returned tfe England, where we arrived long 
 before the painting, which, with many others, was left to 
 follow us by a cheaper and slower route. 
 
 The Sunday after we reached home (having seen no 
 friends in the meanwhile), we walked into Steinway Hall 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 107 
 
 to hear Mr. Fletcher's lecture. At its conclusion he passed 
 as usual into a state of trance, and described what he saw 
 before him. In the midst of mentioning people, places, 
 and incidents unknown to us, he suddenly exclaimed : 
 " Now I see a very strange thing, totally unlike anything 
 I have ever seen before, and I hardly know how to describe 
 it. A man comes before me — a foreigner — and in a dress 
 belonging to some monastic order, a brown robe of coarse 
 cloth or flannel, with a rope round his waist and beads 
 hanging, and bare feet and a shaved head. He is dragging 
 a picture on to the platform, a very large painting in a 
 frame, and it looks to me like a portrait of himself, kneeling 
 on a carpet of burning wood. No ! I am wrong. The 
 man tells me the picture is not a portrait of himself, but of 
 the founder of his Order, and it is in the possession of some 
 people in this hall to-night. The man tells me to tell 
 these people that it was his spirit that influenced them to 
 buy this painting at some place over the water, and he did 
 so in order that they might keep it in remembrance of 
 what Lhey have done for him. And he desires that they 
 shall hang that picture in some room where they may see 
 it every day, that they may never forget the help which 
 spirits on this earth may render by their prayers to spirits 
 that have passed away. And he offers them through me 
 his heartfelt thanks for the assistance given him, and he 
 says the day is not far off when lie shall pray for himself 
 and for them, that their kindness may return into their own 
 bosoms." 
 
 The oil painting reached England in safety some weeks 
 afterwards, and was hung over the mantel- piece in our 
 dining-room, where it remained, a familiar object to all 
 our personal acquaintances. 
 
lo8 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE MEDIUMSHIP OF MISS SHOWERS. 
 
 Some time before I had the pleasure of meeting Miss 
 Showers, I heard, through friends hiving in tlie west of 
 England, of the mysterious and marvellous powers possessed 
 by a young lady of their acquaintance, who was followed 
 by voices in the air, which held conversations with her, 
 and the owners of which were said to have made them- 
 selves visible. I listened with curiosity, the more so, as 
 my informants utterly disbelieved in Spiritualism, and 
 thought the phenomena were due to trickery. At the same 
 time I conceived a great desire to see the girl of sixteen, 
 who, for no gain or apparent object of her own, was so 
 clever as to mystify everyone around her ; and when she 
 and her mother came to London, I was amongst the first 
 to beg for an introduction, and I shall never forget the 
 experiences I had with her. She was the first private 
 medium through whom my personal friends returned to 
 converse with me ; and no one but a Spiritualist can ap- 
 preciate the blessing of spiritual communications through 
 a source that is above the breath of suspicion, I have 
 already written at length about Miss Showers in"T]ie 
 story of John Powles." She was a child, compared to my- 
 self, whose life had hardly commenced when mine was 
 virtually over, and neither she, nor any member of her 
 family, had ever had an opportunity of becoming acquainted 
 with even the names of my former friends. Yet (as 1 have 
 related) John Powles made Miss Showers his especial 
 mouthpiece, and my daughter •' Florence " (then a little 
 child) also appeared through her, though at long intervals, 
 and rather timidly. Her own controls, however, or cabinet 
 spirits (as they call them in America) — i.e., such spirits as 
 are always about the medium, and help the strangers to 
 appear — " Peter," " Florence," " Lenore," and " Sally," 
 were very familiar with me, and afforded me such facilities 
 of testing their medium as do not often fall to the lot of 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 109 
 
 inquirers. Indeed, at one time, they always requested that 
 I should be present at their seances., so that I considered 
 myself to be highly favored. And I may mention here 
 that Miss Showers and I were so much en rapport that her 
 manifestations were always much stronger in my presence. 
 We could not sit next each other at an ordinary tea or 
 supper table, when we had no thought of, or desire to hold 
 a seance, without manifestations occurring in the full light. 
 A hand, Oiat did not belong to either of us, would make 
 itself apparent under the table-cloth between us — a hand 
 with power to grasp ours — or our feet would be squeezed 
 or kicked beneath the table, or fingers would suddenly 
 appear, and whisk the food off our plates. Some of their 
 jests were inconvenient. I have had the whole contents 
 of a tumbler, which I was raising to my lips, emptied over 
 my dress. It was generally known that our powers were 
 sympathetic, and at last " Peter " gave me leave, or, rather, 
 ordered me to sit in the cabinet with " Rosie," whilst the 
 manifestations went on outside. He used to say he didn't 
 care for me any more than if I had been " a spirit myself." 
 One evening " Peter " called me into the cabinet (whicli 
 was simply a large box cupboard at one end of the dining- 
 room) before the seafice hcgd.n, and told me to sit down at 
 the medium's feet and *' be a good girl and keep quiet." 
 Miss Showers was in a low chair, and I sat with my arms 
 resting on her lap. She did not become entranced, and 
 we talked the whole time together. Presently, without 
 any warning, two figures stood beside us. I could not 
 have said where they came from. I neither saw them rise 
 from the floor nor descend from the ceiling. There was 
 no beginning to their appearance. In a moment they were 
 simply there — " Peter " and " Florence " (not my child, 
 but Miss Showers' control of the same names). 
 
 " Peter " sent " Florence " out to the audience, where 
 we heard her speaking to them and their remarks upon 
 her (there being only a thin curtain hung before the en- 
 trance of the cabinet), but he stayed with us himself. We 
 could not see him distinctly in the dim light, but we could 
 distinctly hear and feel him. He changed our ornaments 
 and ribbons, and pulled the hair-pins out of our hair, and 
 made comments on what was going on outside. After a 
 while "Florence" returned to get more power, and both 
 spirits spoke to and touched us at the same time. During 
 
no THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 the whole of tliis seance my arms rested on Miss Showers' 
 lap, and she was awake and talking to me about the 
 spirits. 
 
 One evening, at a sitting at Mr. Luxmore's house in 
 Hyde Park Square, the spirit " Florence " had been walk- 
 ing amongst the audience in the lighted front drawing- 
 room for a considerable time — even sitting at the piano 
 and accompanying herself whilst she sung us a song in 
 what she called " the planetary language." She greatly 
 resembled her medium on that occasion, and several per- 
 sons present remarked that she did so. I suppose the in- 
 ferred doubt annoyed her, for before she finally left us she 
 asked for a light, and a small oil lamp was brought to her 
 which she placed in my hand, telling me to follow her and 
 look at her medium, which 1 accordingly did. " Florence " 
 led the way into the back drawing-room, where I found 
 Miss Showers reposing in an arm-chair. The first sight of 
 her terrified me. For the purpose of making any change 
 in her dress as difficult as possible, she wore a high, tight- 
 fitting black velvet frock, fastened at the back, and high 
 Hessian boots, with innumerable buttons. But she now 
 appeared to be shrunk to half her usual size, and the dress 
 hung loosely on her figure. Her arms had disappeared, 
 but putting my hands up the dress sleeves, I found them 
 diminished to the size of those of a little child — the fingers 
 reaching only to where the elbows had been. The same 
 miracle had happened to her feet, which only occupied 
 half her boots. She looked in fact like the mummy of a 
 girl of four or six years old. The spirit told me to feel her 
 face. The forehead was dry, rough, and burning hot, but 
 from the chin water was dropping freely on to the bosom 
 of her dress. " Florence " said to me, "I wanted j^^// to 
 see her, because I know you are brave enough to tell 
 people what you have seen." 
 
 There was a marked difference in the personality of the 
 two influences "Florence" and " Lenore," although both 
 at times resembled Miss Showers, and sometimes more 
 than others. " Florence " was taller than her medium, and 
 a very beautiful woman. " Lenore " was much shorter 
 and smaller, and not so pretty, but more vivacious and 
 pert. By the invitation of Mrs. Macdougal Gregory, I 
 attended several seafices with Miss Showers at her resi- 
 dence in Green Street, when these spirits appeared. 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. iii 
 
 " Lenore " was fond of saying that she wouldn't or couldn't 
 come out unless / held her hand, or put my arm round her 
 waist. To tell the truth, I didn't care for the distinction, 
 for this influence was very peculiar in some things, and to 
 me she always appeared " uncanny," and to leave an un- 
 pleasant feeling behind her. She was seldom completely 
 formed, and would hold up a foot which felt like wet clay, 
 and had no toes to it, or not the proper quantity. On 
 occasions, too, there was a charnel-house smell about her, 
 as if she had been buried a few weeks and dug up again, 
 an odor which I have never smelt from any materialized 
 spirit before or after. One evening at Mrs. Gregory's, 
 when " Lenore " had insisted upon walking round the 
 circle supported by my arm, I nearly fainted from the 
 smell. It resembled nothing but that of a putrid corpse, 
 and when she returned to the cabinet, I was compelled to 
 leave the room and retch from the nausea it had caused 
 me. It was on this occasion that the sitters called 
 "Lenore " so many times back into the circle, that all the 
 power was gone, and she was in danger of melting away 
 before their eyes. Still they entreated her to remain with 
 them a little longer. At last she grew impatient, and 
 complained to me of their unreasonableness. She was then 
 raised from the floor — actually floating just outside the 
 curtain — and she asked me to put my hands up her skirts 
 and convince myself that she was half-dematerialized. I 
 did as she told me, and felt that she had no legs, although 
 she had been walkmg round the room a few minutes before. 
 I could feel nothing but the trunk of a body, which was 
 completely lifted off the ground. Her voice, too, had 
 grown faint and her face indistinct, and in another moment 
 she had totally disappeared. 
 
 One evening at Mrs. Gregory's, after the seance 
 was concluded, " Florence " looked round the cur- 
 tain and called to me to come inside of it. I did so 
 and found myself in total darkness. I said, " What's 
 the good of my coming here ? I can't see anything." 
 " Florence " took me by one hand, and answered, " I will 
 lead you ! Don't be afraid." Then some one else grasped 
 my other hand, and " Peter's " voice said, " We've got you 
 safe. We want you to feel the medium." The two figures 
 led me between them to the sofa on which Miss Showers was 
 lying. They passed my hand all over her head and body. 
 
112 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 I felt, as before, her hands and feet shrunk to half their 
 usual size, but her heart appeared to have become propor- 
 tionately increased. When my hand was placed upon it, 
 it was leaping up and down violently, and felt like a rabbit 
 or some other live animal bounding in her bosom. Her 
 brain was burning as before, but her extremities were icy 
 cold. There was no doubt at all of the abnormal condi- 
 tion into which the medium had been thrown, in order to 
 produce these strong physical manifestations which were 
 borrowed, for the time being, from her life, and could 
 never (so they informed me) put the whole of what they 
 borrowed back again. This seems to account for the in- 
 variable deterioration of health and strength that follows 
 physical manifestations in both sexes. These were the 
 grounds alone on which they explained to me the fact that, 
 on several occasions, when the materialized spirit has 
 been violently seized and held apart from the medium, it 
 has been found to have become, or been changed into the 
 medium, and always with injury to the latter — as in the 
 case of Florence Cook being seized by Mr. Volckman and 
 Sir George Sitwell. Mr. Volckman concluded because 
 when he seized the spirit " Katie King," he found he was 
 holding Florence Cook, that the latter must have imper- 
 sonated the former; yet I shall tell you in iis proper 
 place how I have sat in the same room with " Katie 
 King," whilst Miss Cook lay in a trance between us. The 
 medium nearly lost her life on the occasion alluded to, 
 from the sudden disturbance of the mysterious link that 
 bound her to the spirit. I have had it from the lips of the 
 Countess of Caithness, who was one of the sitters, and 
 stayed with Miss Cook till she was better, that she was in 
 convulsions the whole night after, and that it was some 
 time before they believed she would recover. If a medium 
 could simulate a materialized spirit, it is hardly likely that 
 she would (or could) simulate convulsions with a medical 
 man standing by her bedside. " You see," said Miss 
 Showers' " Florence," whilst pointing out to me the de- 
 creased size of her medium under trance, " that * Rosie ' is 
 half her usual size and weight, /have borrowed the other 
 half from her, which, combined with contributions from the 
 sitters, goes to make up the body in which I shew myself 
 to you. If you seize and hold me tight, you are holding 
 her, /.^,, half of her, and you increase the action of the 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 113 
 
 vital half to such a degree that, if the two halves did not 
 reunite, you would kill her. You see that I can detach 
 certain particles from her organism for my own use, and 
 when I deniaterialize, I restore these particles to her, and 
 she becomes once more her normal size. You only hurry 
 the reunion by violently detaining me, so as to injure her. 
 But you might drive her mad, or kill her in the attempt, 
 because the particles of brain, or body, might become in- 
 jured by such a violent collision. If you believe I can take 
 them from her (as you see I do) in order to render my in- 
 visible body visible to you, why can't you believe I can 
 make them fly together again on the approach of danger. 
 And granted the one power, I see no difficulty in acknow- 
 ledging the other." 
 
 One day Mrs. Showers invited me to assist at a 
 sea?ice to be given expressly for friends living at a dis- 
 tance. When I reached the house, however, I found 
 the friends were unable to be present, and the meeting 
 was adjourned. Mrs. Showers apologized for the altera- 
 tion of plan, but I was glad of it. I had often sat with 
 *' Rosie " in company with others, and I wanted to sit with 
 her quite alone, or rather to sit with her in a room quite 
 alone, and see what would spontaneously occur, without 
 any solicitation on our parts. We accordingly annexed the 
 drawing-room for our sole use — locked the door, extin- 
 guished ♦^^he lights, and sat down on a sofa side by side, with 
 our arms round each other. The manifestations that followed 
 were not all nice ones. They formed an experience to be 
 passed through once, but not willingly repeated, and I 
 should not relate them here, excepting that they afford so 
 strong a proof that they were produced by a power outside 
 and entirely distinct from our own — a power, which having 
 once called into action, we had no means of repressing. 
 We had sat in the dark for some minutes, without hearing 
 or seeing anything, when I thoughtlessly called out, 
 "Now, Peter, do your worst," and extending my arms, 
 singing, " Come ! for my arms are empty." In a moment 
 a large, heavy figure fell with such force into my out- 
 stretched arms as to bruise my shoulder — it seemed like a 
 form made of wood or iron, rather than flesh and blood — 
 and the rough treatment that ensued for both of us is almost 
 beyond description. It seemed as if the room were filled 
 with materialized creatures, who were determined to let us 
 
 8 
 
114 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 know they were not to be trifled with. Our faces and 
 hands were slapped, our hair pulled down, and our clothes 
 nearly torn off our backs. My silk skirt being separate 
 from the bodice was torn off at the waistband, and the 
 trimming ripped from it, and Miss Showers' muslin dress 
 was also much damaged. We were both thoroughly 
 frightened, but no expostulations or entreaties had any 
 effect with our tormentors. At the same time we heard 
 the sound as of a multitude of large birds or bats swooping 
 about the room." The fluttering of wings was incessant, 
 and we could hear them " scrooping " up and down the 
 walls. In the midst of the confusion, " Rosie " was 
 whisked out of my arms (for fright had made us cling 
 tighter than ever together) and planted on the top of a 
 table at some distance from me, at which she was so 
 frightened she began to cry, and I called out, " Powles, 
 where are you ? Can't you stop them ? " My appeal was 
 heard. Peter's voice exclaimed, " Hullo ! here's Powles 
 coming !" and all the noise ceased. We heard the advent 
 of my friend, and in another moment he was smoothing 
 down the ruffled hair and arranging the disordered dresses 
 and telling me to light the gas and not be frightened. As 
 soon as I could I obeyed his directions and found Rosie 
 sitting doubled up in the centre of the table, but the rest 
 of the room and furniture in its usual condition. " Peter " 
 and his noisy crowd had vanished — so had " Powles," and 
 there was nothing but our torn skirts and untidy appear- 
 ance to prove that we had not been having an unholy 
 dream. " Peter " is not a wicked spirit — far from it — 
 but he is a very earthly and frivolous one. But when we 
 consider that nine-tenths of the spirits freed from the 
 flesh are both earthly and frivolous (if not worse), I know 
 not what right we have to expect to receive back angels in 
 their stead. 
 
 At one time when my sister Blanche (who was 
 very sceptical as to the possibility of the occurrences 
 I related having taken place before me) was staying in my 
 house at Bayswater, I asked Miss Showers if she would 
 give us a stance in my own home, to which she kindly as- 
 sented. This was an unusual concession on her part, 
 because, in consequence of several accidents and scandals 
 that had occurred from media being forcibly detained (as 
 I have just alluded to), her mother was naturally averse to 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 115 
 
 her sitting anywhere but in their own circle. However, on 
 my promising to invite no strangers, Mrs. Showers herself 
 brought her daughter to my house. We had made no 
 preparation for the seance except by opening part of the 
 folding doors between the dining-room and study, and 
 hanging a curtain over the aperture. But I had carefully 
 locked the door of the study, so that there should be no 
 egress from it excepting through the dining-room, and had 
 placed against the locked door a heavy writing-table laden 
 with books and ornaments to make " assurance doubly 
 sure." We sat first in the drawing-room above, where 
 there was a piano. The lights were extinguished, and 
 Miss Showers sat down to the instrument and played the 
 accompaniment to a very simple melody, " Under tlie 
 willow she's sleeping." Four voices, sometimes alone and 
 sometimes all together, accompanied her own. One was a 
 baritone, supposed to proceed from " Peter," the second, 
 a soprano, from " Lenore." The third was a rumbling 
 bass, from an influejice who called himself "The Vicar of 
 Croydon," and sung in a fat, unctuous, and conceited voice ; 
 and the fourth was a cracked and quavering treble, from 
 another spirit called " The Abbess." These were the 
 voices, Mrs. Showers told me, that first followed her daugh- 
 ter about the house in Devonshire, and gained her such 
 an unenviable notoriety there. The four voices were per- 
 fectly distinct from one another, and sometimes blended 
 most ludicrously and tripped each other up in a way which 
 made the song a medley — upon which each one would 
 declare it was the fault of the other. " The Vicar of Croy- 
 don " always required a great deal of solicitation before he 
 could be induced to exhibit his powers, but having once 
 commenced, it was difficult to make him leave off" again, 
 whereas " The Abbess " was always complaining that they 
 would not allow her to sing the solos. An infant's voice 
 also sung some baby songs in a sweet childish treble, but 
 she was also very shy and seldom was heard, in comparison 
 with the rest. " All ventriloquism ! " I hear some reader 
 cry. If so, Miss Showers ought to have made a fortune in 
 exhibiting her talent in public. I have heard the best 
 ventriloquists in the world, but I never heard one who 
 could produce _/i77;r voices at the same time. 
 
 After the musical portion of the stance was over, we 
 descended to the dining-room, where the gas was burning, 
 
Il6 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 and the medium passed through it to the secured study, 
 where a mattress was laid upon the floor for her accommo- 
 dation. " Florence " was the first to appear, tall and 
 beautiful in appearance, and with upraised eyes like a nun. 
 She measured her height against the wall with me, and we 
 found she was the taller of the two by a couple of inches, — 
 my height being five feet six, the medium's five feet, and 
 the si:)irit's five feet eight, an abnormal height for a woman. 
 " Lenore " came next, very short indeed, looking like a 
 child of four or six, but she grew before our eyes, until her 
 head was on a level with mine. She begged us all to 
 observe that she had 7iot got on " Rosie's " petticoat body. 
 She said she had borrowed it on one occasion, and Mrs. 
 Showers had recognized it, and slipped upstairs in the 
 middle of the seance and found it missing from her 
 daughter's chest of drawers, and that she had been so 
 angry in consequence (fearing Rosie's honor might be 
 impeached) that she said if " Lenore " did not promise 
 never to do so again, she should not be allowed to assist 
 at the seafices at all. So Miss " Lenore," in rather a pert 
 and defiant mood, begged Mrs. Showers to see that what 
 she wore was her own property, and not that of the medium. 
 She was succeeded on that occasion by a strange being, 
 totally different from the other two, who called herself 
 " Sally," and said she had been a cook. She was one of 
 those extraordinary influences for whose return to earth one 
 can hardly account ; quick, and clever, and amusing as she 
 could be, but with an unrefined wit and manner, and to all 
 appearance, more earthly-minded than ourselves. But do 
 we not often ask the same question with respect to those 
 still existent here below ? What were they born for ? 
 What good do they do ? Why were they ever permitted 
 to come ? God, without whose permission nothing happens, 
 alone can answer it. 
 
 We had often to tease " Peter " to materialize and show 
 himself, but he invariably refused, or postponed the work to 
 another occasion. His excuse was that the medium being 
 so small, he could not obtain sufficient power from her to 
 make himself appear as a big man, and he didn't like to 
 come, " looking like a girl in a billycock hat." " I came 
 once to Mrs. Showers," he said, " and she declared I was 
 * Rosie ' dressed up, and so I have resolved never to show 
 myself again." At the close of that seance, however, 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. Wj 
 
 " Peter " asked me to go into the study and see him wake 
 the medium. When I entered it and made my way up to 
 the mattress, I found Miss Showers extended on it in a 
 deep sleep, whilst ** Peter," materiah'zed, sat at her feet. 
 He made me sit down next to him and take his hand and 
 feel his features with my own hand. Then he proceeded 
 to rouse " Rosie " by shaking her and calling her by name, 
 holding me by one hand, as he did so. As Miss Showers 
 yawned and woke up from her trance, the hand slipped 
 from mine, and " Peter " evaporated. When she sat up I 
 said to her gently, " I am here ! Peter brought me in and 
 was sitting on the mattress by my side till just this mo- 
 ment." " Ha, ha ! " laughed his voice close to my ear, 
 " and I'm here still, my dears, though you can't see me." 
 
 Who can account for such things ? I have witnessed 
 them over and over again, yet I am unable, even to this 
 day, to do more than believe and wonder. 
 
Il8 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE MEDIUMSHIP OF WILLIAM EGLINTON. 
 
 In the stories I have related of" Emily " and " The Monk " 
 I have alluded freely to the wonderful powers exhibited by 
 William Eglinton, but the marvels there spoken of were by 
 no means the only ones I have witnessed through his 
 mediumship. At the seance which produced the appari- 
 tion of my sister Emily, Mr. Eglinton's control "Joey" 
 made himself very familiar. " Joey " is a remarkably small 
 man — perhaps two-thirds lighter in weight than the me- 
 dium — and looks more like a little jockey than anything 
 else, though he says he was a clown whilst in this world, 
 and claims to be the spirit of the immortal Joe Grimaldi. 
 He has always appeared to us clothed in a tight-fitting 
 white dress like a woven jersey suit, which makes him look 
 still smaller than he is. He usually keeps up a continuous 
 chatter, whether visible or invisible, and is one of the 
 cleverest and kindest controls I know. He is also very 
 devotional, for which the public will perhaps give him as 
 little credit now as they did whilst he was on earth. On 
 the first occasion of our meeting in the Russell Street 
 Rooms he did not show himself until quite the last, but he 
 talked incessantly of and for the other spirits that appeared. 
 My sister was, as I have said, the first to show herself — 
 then came an extraordinary apparition. On the floor, about 
 three feet from the cabinet, appeared a head — only the 
 head and throat of a dark man, with black beard and 
 moustaches, surmounted by the white turban usually worn 
 by natives. It did not speak, but the eyes rolled and the 
 lips moved, as if it tried to articulate, but without success. 
 " Joey " said the spirit came for Colonel Lean, and was 
 that of a foreigner who had been decapitated. Colonel 
 Lean could not recognize the features ; but, strange to say, 
 he had been present at the beheading of two natives in 
 Japan who had been found guilty of murdering some Eng- 
 lish oflScers, and we concluded from " Joey's " description 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 119 
 
 that this must be the head of one of them. I knelt down 
 on the floor and put my face on a level with that of the 
 spirit, that I might assure myself there was no body 
 attached to it and concealed by the curtain of the cabinet, 
 and I can affirm that it was a head only, resting on the 
 neck — that its eyes moved and its features worked, but 
 that there was nothing further on the floor. I questioned 
 it, and it evidently tried hard to speak in return. The 
 mouth opened and the tongue was thrust out, and made a 
 sort of dumb sound, but was unable to form any words, 
 and after a while the head sunk through the floor and dis- 
 appeared. If this was not one of the pleasantest appari- 
 tions I have seen, it was one of the most remarkable. 
 There was no possibility of trickery or deception. The 
 decapitated head rested in full sight of the audience, and 
 had all the peculiarities of the native appearance and ex- 
 pression. After this the figures of two or three English- 
 men came, friends of others of the audience — then "Joey " 
 said he would teach us how to " make muslin." He walked 
 riglit outside the cabinet, a quaint little figure, not much 
 bigger than a boy of twelve or thirteen, with a young, old 
 face, and dressed in the white suit I have described. He 
 sat down by me and commenced to toss his hands in the 
 air, as though he were juggling with balls, saying the 
 while, " This is the way we make ladies' dresses." As he 
 did so, a small quantity of muslin appeared in his hands, 
 which he kept on moving in the same manner, whilst the 
 flimsy fabric increased and increased before our eyes, until 
 it rose in billows of muslin above *' Joey's " head and fell 
 over his body to his feet, and enveloped him until he was 
 completely hidden from view. He kept on chattering till 
 the last moment from under the heap of snowy muslin, 
 telling us to be sure and " remember how he made ladies' 
 dresses " — when, all of a sudden, in the twinkling of an eye, 
 the heap of muslin rose into the air, and before us stood 
 the tall figure of " Abdullah," Mr. Eglinton's Eastern guide. 
 There had been no darkness, no pause to effect this change. 
 The muslin had remained on the spot where it was fabri- 
 cated until "Joey " evaporated, and "Abdullah" rose up 
 from beneath it. Now " Abdullah " is not a spirit to be 
 concealed easily. He is six foot two — a great height for 
 a native — and his high turban adds to his stature. He is 
 a very handsome man, with an aquiline nose and bright 
 
I20 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 black eyes — a Persian, I believe, by birth, and naturally 
 dark in complexion. He does not speak English, but 
 " salaams " continually, and will approach the sitters when 
 requested, and let them examine the jewels, of which he 
 wears a large quantity in his turban and ears and round 
 his throat, or to show them and let them feel that he has 
 lost one arm, the stump being plainly discernible through 
 his thin clothing. " Abdullah " possesses all the character- 
 istics of the Eastern nation, which are unmistakable to one 
 who, like myself, has been familiar with them in the flesh. 
 His features are without doubt those of a Persian; so is 
 his complexion. His figure is long and lithe and supple, 
 as that of a cat, and he can bend to the ground and rise 
 again with the utmost ease and grace. Anybody who could 
 pretend for a moment to suppose that Mr. Eglinton by 
 " making up " could personate " Abdullah " must be a fool. 
 It would be an impossibility, even were he given unlimited 
 time and assistance, to dress for the character. There is a 
 peculiar boneless elasticity in the movements of a native 
 which those who have lived in tlie East know that no Eng- 
 lishmen can imitate successfully. " Abdullah's "hand and 
 feet also possess all the characteristics of liis nationality, 
 being narrow, long and nerveless, although I have heard 
 that he can give rather too good a grip with his one hand 
 when he chooses to exert his power or to show his dislike 
 to any particular sitter. He has always, however, shown 
 the utmost urbanity towards us, but he is not a particu- 
 larly friendly or familiar spirit. When "Abdullah" had 
 retired on this occasion, " Joey " drew back the curtain 
 that shaded the cabinet, and showed us his medium and 
 himself. There sat Mr. Eglinton attired in evening dress, 
 with the front of his shirt as smooth and spotless as when 
 it left the laundress' hands, lying back in his chair in a 
 deep sleep, whilst little Joey sat astride his knee, his white 
 suit contrasting strangely with his medium's black trousers. 
 Whilst in this position he kissed Mr. Eglinton several 
 times, telling him to wake up, and not look so sulky ; then, 
 having asked if we all saw him distinctly, and were satisfied 
 he was not the medium, he bade God bless us, and the 
 curtains closed once more upon this incomprehensible 
 scene. Mr. Eglinton subsequently became an intimate 
 friend of ours, and we often had the pleasure of sitting 
 with him, but we never saw anything more wonderful (to 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 121 
 
 my mind) than we did on our first acquaintance. When 
 he accompanied us to Bruges (as told in the history of the 
 "Monk"), "Joey" took great trouble to prove to us in- 
 controvertibly that he is not an " emanation," or double, 
 of his medium, but a creature completely separate and 
 wholly distinct. My sister's house being built on a very 
 old-fashioned principle, had all the bedrooms communica- 
 ting with each other. The entresol in which we usually 
 assembled formed the connecting link to a series of six 
 chambers, all of which opened into each other, and the 
 entrance to the first and last of which was from the 
 entresol. 
 
 We put Mr. Eglinton into No. i, locking the connecting 
 door with No. 2, so that he had no e.xit except into our 
 circle as we sat round the curtain, behind which we placed 
 his chair. "Joey " having shown himself outside the cur- 
 tain, informed us he was going through the locked door at 
 the back into our bedrooms, Nos. 2, 3 and 4, and would 
 bring us something from each room. 
 
 Accordingly, in another minute we heard his voice in No. 
 2, commenting on all he saw there ; then he passed into 
 No. 3, and so on, making a tour of the rooms, until he 
 appeared at the communicating door of No. 5, and threw 
 an article taken from each room into the entresol. He 
 then told us to lift the curtain and inspect the medium, 
 which we did, finding him fast asleep in his chair, with the 
 door behind him locked. "Joey" then returned by the 
 way he had gone, and presented himself once more out- 
 side the cabinet, the key of the locked door being all the 
 time in our possession. 
 
 " Ernest " is another well-known control of Mr. Eglin- 
 ton's, though he seldom appears, except to give some mar- 
 vellous test or advice. He is a very earnest, deep-feeling 
 spirit, like his name, and his symbol is a cross of light ; 
 sometimes large and sometimes small, but always bright 
 and luminous. " Ernest" seldom shows his whole body. 
 It is generally only his face that is apparent in the midst 
 of the circle, a more convincing manifestation for the 
 sceptic or inquirer than any number of bodies which are 
 generally attributed to the chicanery of the medium. 
 " Ernest " always speaks in the direct voice in a gentle, 
 bass tone, entirely distinct from "Joey's " treble, and his 
 appearance is usually indicative of a harmonious and sue- 
 
122 THERE IS- NO DEATH. 
 
 cessful meeting. " Dcaisy," a North American Indian girl, 
 is another control of William Eglinton's, but I have only 
 heard her speak in trance. I do not know which of these 
 spirits it is who conducts the manifestations of writing on 
 the arm, with which Mr. Eglinton is very successful ; some- 
 times it seems to be one, and sometimes the other. As he 
 was sitting with our family at supper one evening, I men- 
 tally asked "Joey"' to write something on some part of his 
 body where his hand could not reach. This was in order 
 to prove that the writing had not been prepared by chemi- 
 cal means beforehand, as some people are apt to assert. 
 In a short time Mr. Eglinton was observed to stop eating, 
 and grow very fidgety and look uncomfortable, and on 
 being questioned as to the cause, he blushed and stammered, 
 and could give no answer. After a while he rose from 
 table, and asked leave to retire to his room. The next 
 morning he told us that he had been so uneasy at supper, 
 it had become impossible for him to sit it out ; that on 
 reaching his room he had found that his back, which irri- 
 tated him as though covered with a rash, had a sentence 
 ivritteji across it, of which he could only make out a few 
 words by looking at it backwards in a glass ; and as there 
 were only ladies in the house beside himself, he could not 
 call in an interpreter to his assistance. One day, without 
 consulting him, I placed a small card and a tiny piece of 
 black lead between the leaves of a volume of the Leistcre 
 Hour, and asked him to hold the book with me on the 
 dining table. I never let the book out of my hand, and 
 it was so thick that I had difficulty afterwards in finding 
 my card (from the corner of which I had torn a piece) 
 again. Mr. Eglinton sat with me in the daylight with ihe 
 family about, and all he did was to place his hand on mine, 
 which rested on the book. The perspiration ran down his 
 face whilst he did so, but there was no other sign of power, 
 and, honestly, I did not expect to find any writing on my 
 card. When I had shaken it out of the leaves of the book, 
 however, I found a letter closely written on it from my 
 daughter " Florence " :o this effect : — 
 
 " Dear Mama, — I am so glad to be able to communicate with you 
 again, and to demonstrate by actual fact that I am really present. Of 
 course, you quite understand that I do not write this myself. ' Charlie ' 
 is present witli me, and so are many more, and we all unite in sending 
 you our love. 
 
 *' Your daughter, Florencp." 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 123 
 
 Mr. EgHnton's mediumship embraces various phases of 
 phenomena, as may be gathered from his own relations of 
 them, and the testimony of his friends. A narrative of his 
 spiritual work, under the title of " 'Twixt two Worlds," 
 has been written and published by Mr. John T. Farmer, 
 and contains some exhaustive descriptions of, and testimo- 
 nies to, his undoubtedly wonderful gifts. In it appear 
 several accounts written by myself, and which, for the 
 benefit of such of my readers as have not seen the book in 
 question, I will repeat here. The first is that of the 
 " Monk," given in extenso, as I have given it in the ele- 
 venth chapter of tliis book. The second is of a seance\\t\d 
 on the 5th September, 1884. The circle consisted of Mr. 
 and Mrs. Stewart, Colonel and Mrs. Wynch, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Russell-Davies, Mr. Morgan, and Colonel Lean and my- 
 self, and was held in Mr. Eglinton's private chambers in 
 Quebec Street. We sat in the front drawing-room, with 
 one gas-burner alight, and the door having been properly 
 secured, Mr. Eglinton went into the back room, which 
 was divided by curtains from the front. He had not left us 
 a couple of minutes before a man stepped out through the 
 portiere, and walked right into the midst of us. He was 
 a large, stout man, and very dark, and most of the sitters 
 remarked that he had a very peculiar smell. No one 
 recognized him, and after appearing two or three times he 
 left, and was immediately succeeded by a woman, very 
 much like him, who also had to leave us without any recog- 
 nition. These two spirits, before taking a final leave, came 
 out together, and seemed to examine the circle curiously. 
 After a short interval a much smaller and slighter man 
 came forward, and darted in a peculiar slouching attitude 
 round the circle. Colonel Lean asked him to shake hands. 
 He replied by seizing his hand, and nearly dragging him off 
 his seat. He then darted across the room, and gave a 
 similar proof of his muscular power to Mr. Stewart. But 
 when I asked him to notice me, he took my hand and 
 squeezed it firmly between his own. He had scarcely 
 disappeared before " Abdullah," with his one arm and his 
 six feet two of height, stood before us, and salaamed all 
 round. Then came my daughter Florence, a girl of nine- 
 teen by that time, very slight and feminine in appearance. 
 She advanced two or three times, near enough to touch me 
 with her hand, but seemed fearful to approach nearer. But 
 
124 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 the next moment she returned, dragging ]\Ir. Eglinton after 
 her. He was in deep trance, breathing with difficulty, but 
 " Florence " held him by tlie hand and brought him up to 
 my side, when he detached my hands from those of the 
 sitters either side of me, and making me stand up, he 
 placed my daughter in my arms. As she stood folded in 
 my embrace, she whispered a few words to me relative to a 
 subject kfiotan to no one but myself, and she placed my 
 hand upon her heart, that I might feel she was a living 
 woman. Colonel Lean asked her to go to him. She tried 
 and failed, but having retreated behind the curtain to 
 gather strength, she appeared the second time with Mr. 
 Eglinton, and calling Colonel Lean to her, embraced him. 
 Tliis is one of the most perfect instances on record of a 
 spirit form being seen distinctly by ten witnesses with the 
 medium under gas. The next materialization that appeared 
 was for Mr. Stewart. This gentleman was newly arrived 
 from Australia, and a stranger to Mr. Eglinton. As soon 
 as he saw the female form, who beckoned him to \\\t por- 
 tiere to speak to her, he exclaimed, " My God ! Pauline," 
 with such genuine surprise and conviction as were unmis- 
 takable. The spirit then whispered to him, and putting 
 her arms round his neck, affectionately kissed him. He 
 turned after a while, and addressing his wife, told her that 
 the spirit bore the very form and features of their niece 
 Pauline, whom they had lost the year before. Mr. Stewart 
 expressed himself entirely satisfied with the identity of his 
 niece, and said she looked just as she had done before she 
 was taken ill. I must not omit to say that the medium 
 also appeared with this figure, making the third time of 
 showing himself in one evening with the spirit form. 
 
 The next apparition, being the seventh that appeared, was 
 that of a little child apparently about two years old, who 
 supported itself in walking by holding on to a chair. I 
 stooped down, and tried to talk to this baby, but it only 
 cried in a fretful manner, as though frightened at finding 
 itself with strangers, and turned away. The attention of 
 the circle was diverted from this sight by seeing "Abdullah " 
 dart between tlie curtains, and stand with the child in our 
 view, whilst Mr. Eglinton appeared at the same moment 
 between the two forms, making a tria juncta in uno. 
 
 Thus ended the seance. The second one of which I 
 wrote took place on the 27th of the same month, and under 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 125 
 
 very similar circumstances. The circle this time consisted 
 of Mrs. Wheeler, Mr. Woods, Mr. Gordon, The Honorable 
 Gordon Sandeman, my daughter Eva, my son Frank, 
 Colonel Lean, and myself. Mr. Eglinton appeared on this 
 occasion to find some difficulty in passing under control, 
 and he came out so frequently into the circle to gather 
 power, that I guessed we were going to have uncommonly 
 good manifestations. The voice of " Joey," too, begged us 
 under no circuvistances tvhatever, to lose hands, as they 
 were going to try something very difficult, and we might 
 defeat their efforts at the very moment of victory. When 
 the medium was at last under control in the back drawing 
 room, a tall man, with an uncovered Iiead of dark hair, and 
 a large beard, appeared and walked up to a lady in the 
 company. She was very much affected by the recognition 
 of the spirit, which she affirmed to be that of her brother. 
 She called him by name and kissed him, and informed us, 
 that he was just as he had been in earth life. Her emotion 
 was so great, we thought she would have fainted, but after 
 a while she became calm again. We next heard the notes 
 of a clarionet. I had been told that Mr. Woods (a stranger 
 just arrived from the Antipodes) had lost a brother under 
 peculiarly distressing circumstances, and that he hoped 
 (though hardly expected) to see his brother that evening. 
 It was the first time I had ever seen Mr. Woods ; yet so 
 remarkable was the likeness between the brothers, that 
 when a spirit appeared with a clarionet in his hand, I could 
 not help knowing who it was, and exclaimed, " Oh, Mr. 
 Woods, there is your brother ! " The figure walked up to 
 Mr. Woods and grasped his hand. As they appeared thus 
 with their faces turned to one another, they were striki7igly 
 alike both in feature and expression. This spirit's head was 
 also bare, an unusual occurrence, and covered with thick, 
 crisp hair. He appeared twice, and said distinctly, " God 
 bless you 1 " each time to his brother. Mrs. Wheeler, who 
 had known the spirit in earth life, was startled by the tone 
 of the voice, which she recognized at once ; and Mr. Mor- 
 gan, who had been an intimate friend of his in Australia, 
 confirmed the recognition. We asked Mr. Woods the 
 meaning of the clarionet, which was a black one, hand- 
 somely inlaid with silver. He told us his brother had been 
 an excellent musician, and had won a similar instrument 
 as a prize at some musical competition. " But," he added 
 
126 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 wonderingly, " his clarionet is locked up in my house in 
 Australia." My daughter " Florence " came out next, but 
 only a little way, at which I was disappointed, but "Joey" 
 said they were reserving the strength for a manifestation 
 further on. He then said, " Here comes a friend for Mr. 
 Sandeman," and a man, wearing the masonic badge and 
 scarf, appeared, and made the tour of tlie circle, giving the 
 masonic grip to those of the craft present. He was a good 
 looking young man, and said he had met some of those 
 present in Australia, but no one seemed to recognize him. 
 He was succeeded by a male figure, who had materialized 
 on the previous occasion. As he passed through the cur- 
 tain, a female figure appeared beside him^ bearing a very 
 bright light, as though to show him the way. She did not 
 come beyond i\\e.J>o}'tUre, but every one in the room saw 
 her distinctly. On account of the dress and complexion 
 of the male figure, we had wrongly christened him " The 
 Bedouin ; " but my son, Frank Marryat, who is a sailor, now 
 found out he was an East Indian by addressing him in 
 Hindustani, to which he responded in a low voice. Some 
 one asked him to take a seat amongst us, upon which he 
 seized a heavy chair in one hand and flourished it above 
 his head. He then squatted, native fashion, on his 
 haunches on the floor and left us, as before, by vanishing 
 suddenly. 
 
 " Joey " now announced that they were going to try the 
 experiment of " showing us how the spirits were tnade/rom 
 the tneditim." This was the crowning'triumph of the even- 
 ing. Mr. Eglinton appeared in the very midst of us in 
 trance. He entered the room backwards, and as if 
 fighting with the power that pushed him in, his eyes were 
 shut, and his breath was drawn with difficulty. As he 
 stood thus, holding on to a chair for support, an airy mass 
 like a cloud of tobacco smoke was seen on his left hip, his 
 legs became illuminated by lights travelling up and down 
 them, and a white film settled about his head and shoulders. 
 The mass increased, and he breathed harder and harder, 
 whilst invisible hands pulled the filmy drapery out of his 
 hip in long strips, that amalgamated as soon as formed, 
 and fell to the ground to be succeeded by others. The 
 cloud continued to grow thicker, and we were eagerly 
 watching the process, when, in the twinkling of an eye, the 
 mass had evaporated, and a spirit, full formed, stood beside 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 127 
 
 him. No one could say how it had been raised .n tne very 
 midr,t of us, nor whence it came, but it teas there. Mr. 
 Eglinton then retired with the new-born spirit behind the 
 curtains, but m another moment he came (or he was thrown 
 out) amongst us again, and fell upon the floor. The cur- 
 tains opened again, and the full figure of " Ernest" ap- 
 peared and raised the medium by the hand. As he saw 
 him, Mr. Eglinton fell on his knees, and "Ernest" drew 
 him out of sight. Thus ended the second of these two 
 wonderful seances. The published reports of them were 
 signed with the full names and addresses of those who 
 witnessed them. 
 
 William Eglinton's powers embrace various phases of 
 phenomena, amongst which Icvitation is a common occur- 
 rence ; indeed, I do not think I have ever sat with him at 
 a seance during which he has not been levitated. I have 
 seen him on several occasions rise, or be carried, into the 
 air, so that his head touched the ceiling, and his feet were 
 above the sitters' heads. On one occasion whilst sitting 
 with him a perfectly new manifestation was developed. As 
 each spirit came the name was announced, written on the 
 air in letters of fire, which moved round the circle in front 
 of the sitters. As the names were those of friends of the 
 audience and not of friends of Mr. Eglinton, and the 
 phenomenon ended with a letter written to me in the same 
 manner on private affairs, it could not be attributed to a 
 previously arranged trick. I have accompanied Mr. Eglin- 
 ton, in the capacity of interpreter, to a professional seance 
 in Paris consisting of some forty persons, not one of whom 
 could speak a word of English whilst he was equally igno- 
 rant of forcigh languages. And I have heard French and 
 German spirits return through him to converse with their 
 friends, who were radiant with joy at communicating with 
 them again, whilst their medium could not (had he been 
 conscious) have understood or pronounced a single word 
 of all the news he was so glibly repeating. I will conclude 
 this testimony to his powers by the account of a sitting 
 with him for slate writing — that much abused and most 
 maligned manifestation. Because a few ignorant pig- 
 headed people who have never properly investigated the 
 science of Spiritualism decide that a thing cannot be, 
 " because it can't," men of honor and truth are voted char- 
 latans and tricksters, and those who believe in them fools 
 
I2g THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 and blind. The day will dawn yet when it will be seen 
 wliich of the two classes best deserve tlie name. 
 
 Some years ago, when I first became connected in busi- 
 ness with Mr. Edgar Lee of the St. Stephen's Review, I 
 found him much interested in the subject of Spiritualism, 
 though lie had never had an opportunity of investigating 
 it, and through my introduction I procured him a test 
 seance with William Eglinton. We met one afternoon at 
 the medium's house in Nottingham Place for that purpose, 
 and sat at an ordinary table in the back dining-room for 
 slate-writing. The slate used on the occasion (as Mr. Lee 
 had neglected to bring his own slate as requested) was one 
 which was presented to Mr. Eglinton by Mr. Gladstone. 
 It consisted of two slates of medium size, set in mahogany 
 frames, with box hinges, and which, when shut, were 
 fastened with a Bramah lock and key. On the table cloth 
 was a collection of tiny pieces of different colored chalk. 
 In the front room, which was divided from us by folding 
 doors, were some bookcases. Mr. Eglinton commenced 
 by asking Mr. Lee to go into the front room by himself, 
 and select, in his mind's eye, any book he chose as the 
 one from which extracts should be given. Mr. Lee having 
 done as he was told, returned to his former place beside 
 us, without giving a hint as to which book he had selected. 
 Mr. Gladstone's slate was then delivered over to him to 
 clean with sponge and water ; that done, he was directed 
 to choose four pieces of chalk and place them between the 
 slates, to lock them and retain the key. The slates were 
 left on the table in the sight of all; Mr. Lee's hand 
 remained on them all the time. All that Mr. Eglinton did 
 was to place his hand above Mr. Lee's. 
 
 " You chose, I think," he commenced, " four morsels of 
 chalk — white, blue, yellow and red. Please say which word, 
 on which line, on which page of the book you selected just 
 now, the white chalk shall transcribe." 
 
 Mr. Lee answered (I forget the exact numbers) some- 
 what in this wise, " The 3rd word on the 15th line of the 
 102nd page," he having, it must be remembered, no 
 knowledge of the contents of the volume, which he had not 
 even touched with his hand. Immediately he had spoken, 
 a scratching noise was heard between the two slates. When 
 it ceased, Mr. Eglinton put the same question with regard 
 to the blue, yellow and red chalks, which was similarly 
 responded to. He then asked Mr. Lee to unlock the 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 129 
 
 slates, read the words, and then fetch the book he had 
 selected, and compare notes, and in each instance the 
 word had been given correctly. Several other experiments 
 were then made, equally curious, the number of Mr. Lee's 
 watch, which he had not taken from his pocket, and which 
 he said he did not know himself, being amongst them. 
 Then Mr. Eglinton said to Mr. Lee, " Have you any friend 
 in the spirit-world from whom you would like to hear ? If 
 so, and you will mentally recall the name, we will try and 
 procure some writing from him or her." (I must say here 
 that these two were utter strangers to each other, and had 
 met for the first time that afternoon, and indeed [as will be 
 seen by the context] /had a very slight knowledge of Mr. 
 Edgar Lee myself at that time.) ^Ix. Lee thought for a 
 moment, and then replied that there was a dead friend of 
 his from whom he should like to hear. The cleaning and 
 locking process was gone through again, and the scratch- 
 ing re-commenced, and when it concluded, Mr. Lee un- 
 locked the slates and read a letter to this effect : — 
 
 "My Dear Will, — I am quite satisfied with your decision respect- 
 ing Bob. By all means, send him to the school you are thinking of. 
 He will get on better there. His education requires more pushing than 
 it gets at present. Thanks for all you have done for him. God bless 
 you. — ^Ycur affectionate cousin, R. Tasker." 
 
 I do not pretend to give the exact words of this letter ; for 
 though they were afterwards published, I have not a copy 
 by me. But the gist of the experiment does not lie in the 
 exactitude of the words. When I saw the slate, I looked 
 at Mr. Lee in astonishment. 
 
 "Who is it for?" I asked. 
 
 " It is all right," he replied ; " it is for me. It is from 
 my cousin, wlio left his boy in my charge. My real name 
 is William Tasker." 
 
 Now, I had never heard it hinted before that Edgar Lee 
 was only a nom de plume, and the announcement came on 
 me as a genuine surprise. So satisfied was Mr. William 
 Tasker Edgar Lee with his experimental sea?ice, that he 
 had the slate photographed and reproduced in the St. 
 Stephen's Review, w,iih an account of the whole proceed- 
 ings, which were sufficient to make any one stop for a 
 moment in the midst of the world's harassing duties and 
 think, 
 
 9 
 
13© THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE MEDIUMSHIP OF ARTHUR COLMAN. 
 
 Arthur Colman was so intimate a friend of Air. Eglin- 
 ton's, and so much associated with him in my thoughts in 
 the days wlien I first knew them both, that it seems only 
 natural that I should write of him next. His powers were 
 more confined to materialization than Eglinton's, but in 
 that he excelled. He is the most wonderful materializing 
 medium I ever met in England ; but of late years, owing 
 to the injury it did him in his profession, he has been com- 
 pelled, in justice to himself, to give up sitting for physical 
 manifestations, and, indeed, sitting at all, except to oblige 
 his friends. I cannot but consider this decision on his part 
 as a great public loss ; but until the public takes more 
 interest in the next world than they do in this, it will not 
 make it worth the while of such as Mr. Colman to devote 
 their lives, health and strength to their enlightenment. For 
 to be a good physical medium means literally to part, little 
 by little, with one's own life, and no man can be expected 
 to do so much for the love of a set of unbelievers and 
 sceptics, who will use up all his powers, and then go home 
 to call him a rogue and a cheat and a trickster. If, as I 
 am persuaded, each one of us is surrounded by the influ- 
 ences we gather of our own free-will about us — the loving 
 and noble-hearted by angels, the selfish and unbelieving 
 by devils — and we consider how the latter preponderate 
 over the former in this world, is it to be wondered at that 
 most seances 2l\q. conducted by an assemblage of evil spirits 
 brought there by the sitters themselves? Sceptical, blas- 
 phemous and sensual men and women collect together to 
 try and find out the falsehood, not the triith, of Spiritual- 
 ism, and are tricked by the very influences that attend 
 their footsteps and direct their daily lives ; and therein 
 lies the danger of Spiritualism as a pursuit, taken up out 
 of curiosity rather than a desire to learn. It gives in- 
 creased power to the evil that surrounds ourselves, and 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 131 
 
 the devil that goes out of us returns with seven other 
 devils worse than himself, The drunkard, who, by giving 
 rein to a weakness which he knows he should resist, has 
 attracted to him the spirits of drunkards gone before, joins 
 a seance, and by the collaboration of forces, as it were, 
 bestows increased power on the guides he has chosen for 
 himself to lead him into greater evil. This dissertation, 
 however, called forth by the never-ceasing wonder I feel at 
 the indifference of the world towards such sights as I have 
 seen, has led me further than I intended from the subject 
 of my chapter. 
 
 Arthur Colman is a young man of delicate constitution 
 and appearance, who was at one time almost brought down 
 to death's door by the demands made by physical pheno- 
 mena upon his strength ; but since he has given up sitting, 
 he has regained his health, and looks quite a different 
 person. This fact proves of itself what a tax is laid upon 
 the unfortunate medium for such manifestations. Since he 
 has resolved, however, neval^^sit again, I am all the more 
 anxious to record what I have seen through him, probably 
 for the last time. When I first knew my husband Colonel 
 Lean, he had seen nothing of Spiritualism, and was pro- 
 portionately curious, and naturally a little sceptical on the 
 subject, or, rather let me say, incredulous. He was hardly 
 prepared to receive all the marvels I told him of without 
 proof; ^id Mr. Colman's guide, " Aimee," was very 
 anxious to convince him of their truth. She arranged, 
 tiierefore, a seance at which he was to be present, and which 
 was to be held at the house of Mr. and Mrs. George 
 Neville. The party dined there together previously, and 
 consisted only of Mr. and Mrs. Neville, Arthur Colman, 
 Colonel Lean, and myself. As we were in the drawing- 
 room, however, after dinner, and before we had commenced 
 the seance, an American lady, who was but slightly known 
 to any of us, was announced. We had particularly wished 
 to have no strangers present, and her advent proportion- 
 ately annoyed us, but we did not know on what excuse to 
 get rid of her. She was a pushing sort of person ; and 
 when Mrs. Neville told her we were going to hold a seance, 
 as a sort of hint that she miglit take her leave, it only 
 made her resolve to. stay; indeed, she declared she had 
 had a premonition of the fact. She said that whilst in her 
 own room that morning, a figure had appeared standing 
 
132 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 by her bed, dressed in blue and white, Uke the pictures of 
 the Virgin Mary, and that all day she had had an impres- 
 sion that she must spend the evening with the Nevilles, 
 and she should hear something more about it. We could 
 not get rid of the lady, so we were obliged to ask her to 
 remain and assist at the seafice, which she had already made 
 up her mind to do, so we commenced our preparations. 
 The two drawing-rooms communicated by folding doors, 
 which were opened, and vl portiere drawn across the open- 
 ing. In the back room we placed Mr. Colman's chair. He 
 was dressed in a light grey suit, which we secured in the 
 following manner : — His hands were first sewn inside the 
 sleeves of the coat, then his arms were placed behind his 
 back, and the coat sleeves sewn together to the elbow. 
 We then sewed his trouser legs together in the same way. 
 We then tied him round the throat, waist and legs with 
 white cotton, which the least movement on his part would 
 break, and the ends of each ligament were sealed to the 
 wall of the room with wa^ajjld stamped with my seal with 
 " JFlorence Marry at " on it. Considering him thus secure, 
 without ^x\y possibility of escape unless we discovered it, 
 we left him in the back room, and arranged ourselves on a 
 row of five chairs before the portiere in the front one, 
 which was lighted by a single gas-burner. I sat at the 
 head of the row, then the American lady, Mrs. Neville, 
 Colonel Lean and Mr. Neville. I am not sure ^ how long 
 we waited for the manifestations ; but I do not think it 
 was many minutes before a female figure glided from the 
 side of the curtain and took a vacant chair by my side. 
 I said, " Who is this .? " and she whispered, " Florence,' 
 and laid her head down on my shoulder, and kissed my 
 neck. I was turning towards her to distinguish her fea- 
 tures more fully, when I became aware that a second figure 
 was standing in front of me, and " Florence " said " Mother, 
 there is Powles ; " and at the same time, as he bent down 
 to speak to me, his beard touched my face. I had not 
 had time to draw the attention of my friends to the spirits 
 that stood by me, when I was startled by hearing one 
 exclamation after another from the various sitters. The 
 American lady called out, " There's the woman that came 
 to me this morning." Mr. Neville said, " That is my 
 father," and Colonel Lean was asking some one if he would 
 not give his name, I looked down the line of sitters. Be- 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 133 
 
 fore Colonel Lean there stood an old man with a long, 
 white beard ; a somewhat similar figure was in front of 
 Mr. Neville. Before the dark curtain appeared a woman 
 dressed in blue and white, like a nun ; and meanwhile, 
 " Florence " and " Powles " still maintained their station 
 by my side. As if this were not enough of itself to turn a 
 mortal's brain, ih^ portiere was at the same moment drawn 
 aside, and there stood Arthur Colman in his grey suit, 
 freed from all his bonds, but under the control of " Aimee," 
 who called out joyously to my husband; " Now, Frank, 
 wiil you believe ?" She dropped the curtain, the appari- 
 tions glided or faded away, and we passed into the back 
 drawing-room, to find Mr. Colman still in trance, just as 
 we had left him, and with ail the seals and stitches intact. 
 Not a thread of them all was broken. This is the largest 
 number of spirits I have ever seen at one time with one 
 medium. I have seen two materialized spirits at a time, 
 and even three, from Mr. Williams and Miss Siiowers and 
 Katie Cook ; but on this occasion there were five apparent 
 with the medium, all standing together before us. And 
 this is the sort of thing that the majority of people do not 
 consider it worth their while to take a little trouble to see. 
 I have already related how successfully " Florence" used 
 to materialize through this medium, and numerous friends, 
 utterly unknown to him, have revisited us through his 
 means. His trance mediumship is as wonderful as his 
 physical phenomena ; some people might think more so. 
 Amongst others, two spirits have come back to us through 
 Mr. Colman, neither of whom he knew in this life, and both 
 of whom are, in their way, too characteristic to be mistaken. 
 One is Phillis Glover the actress ; the other my stepson, 
 Francis Lean, who was drowned by an accident at sea. 
 Phillis Glover was a woman who led a very eventful life, 
 chiefly in America, and was a versatile genius in conversa- 
 tion, as in everything else. She was peculiar also, and had 
 a half- Yankee way of talking, and a store of familiar say- 
 ings and anecdotes, which she constantly introduced into 
 her conversation. She was by no means an ordinary per- 
 son whilst in this life, and in order to imitate her manner 
 and speech succssefully, one would need to be as clever 
 a person as herself And, without wishing to derogate 
 from the powers of Mr. Colman's mind, he knows, and I 
 know, that Phillis Glover was cleverer than either of us, 
 
134 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 When her influence or spirit therefore returns through him, 
 it is quite unmistakable. It is not only that she retains 
 all her little tricks of voice and feature and manner (which 
 ]\Ir. Colman has never seen), but she alludes to circum- 
 stances that took place in this life and people she was 
 associated with here that he has never heard of. ISlorc, 
 she will relate her old stories and anecdotes, and sing her 
 old songs, and give the most incontrovertible tests of her 
 identity, even to recalling facts and incidents that have 
 entirely passed from our minds. When she appears through 
 him, it is Phillis Glover we are sitting with again and talk- 
 ing with, as familiarly as we did in the days gone by. 
 " Francis," in his way too, is quite as remarkable. The 
 circumstances of his death and the events leading to it 
 were unknown to us, till he related them through Mr. 
 Colman ; and he speaks to us of the contents of private 
 letters, and repeats conversations and alludes to circum- 
 stances and names that are known only to him and our- 
 selves. He had a peculiar manner also — quick and nervous 
 — and a way of cutting his words short, which his spirit 
 preserves to the smallest particular, and which furnish the 
 strongest proofs possible of his identity to those who knew 
 him here below. But these are but a very few amongst 
 the innumerable tests furnished by Arthur Colman's 
 occult powers of the assured possibility of communicating 
 with the spirits of those gone before us. 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 13$ 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE MEDIUMSHIP OF MRS. GUPPY VOLCKMAN. 
 
 The mediumship of this lady is so well known, and has 
 been so universally attested, that nothing I can write of 
 could possibly add to her fame ; and as I made her ac- 
 quaintance but a short time before she relinquished silting 
 for manifestations, I have had but little experience of her 
 powers, but such as I enjoyed were very remarkable. I 
 have alluded to them in the story of " The Green Lady," 
 wliose apparition was due solely to Mrs. Guppy Volck- 
 man's presence, and on that occasion she gave us another 
 wonderful proof of her mediumship. A sheet was pro- 
 cured and held up at either end by jMr. Ciiarles Williams 
 and herself. It was held in the light, in the centre of the 
 room, forming a white wall of about five feet high, i.e., as 
 high as their arms could conveniently reach. Both the 
 hands of Mrs. Volckman and Mr. Williams were placed 
 outside the sheet, so that no trickery might be suspected 
 through their being concealed. In a short time the head 
 of a woman appeared above the sheet, followed by that of 
 a man, and various pairs of hands, both large and small, 
 which bobbed up and down, and seized the hands of the 
 spectators, whilst the faces went close to the media, as if 
 with the intention of kissing them. This frightened Mrs. 
 Volckman, so that she frequently screamed and dropped 
 her end of the sheet, which, had there been any deception, 
 must inevitably have e^j^osed it. It seemed to make no 
 difference to the spirits, however, who reappeared directly 
 they had the opportunity, and made her at last so nervous 
 that she threw the sheet down and refused to hold it any 
 more. The faces were life-size, and could move their eyes 
 and lips ; the hands were some as large as a man's, and 
 covered with hair, and others like those of a woman or 
 child. They had all the capability of working the fingers 
 and grasping objects presented to them ; whilst the four 
 hands belonging to the media were kept in sight of the 
 
136 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 audience, and could not have worked machinery even if 
 they could have concealed it. 
 
 The first time I was introduced to Mrs. Volckman 
 (then IMrs. Guppy) was at a seatice at her own house 
 in Victoria Road, where she had assembled a large 
 party of guests, including several names well known 
 in art and literature. We sat in a well-lighted drawing- 
 room, and the party was so large that the circle round 
 the table was three deep. Mrs. Mary Hardy, the 
 American medium (since dead), was present, and the 
 honors of the manifestations may be therefore, I conclude, 
 divided between the two ladies. The table, a common 
 deal one, made for such occasions, with a round hole of 
 about twenty inches in diameter in the middle of it, was 
 covered with a cloth that hung down, and was nailed to 
 the ground, leaving only the aperture free. (I must pre- 
 mise that this cloth had been nailed down by a committee 
 of the gentlemen visitors, in order that there might be no 
 suspicion of a confederate hidden underneath it.) We 
 then sat round the table, but without placing our hands on 
 it. In a short time hands began to appear through the 
 open space in the table, all sorts of hands, from the 
 woman's taper fingers and the baby's dimpled fist, to the 
 hands of old and young men, wrinkled or muscular. Some 
 of the hands had rings on the fingers, by which the sitters 
 recognized them, some stretched themselves out to be 
 grasped ; and some appeared in pairs, clasped together or 
 separate. One hand took a glove from a sitter and put it 
 on the other, showing the muscular force it possessed by 
 the way in which it pressed down each finger and then 
 buttoned the glove. Another pair of hands talked through 
 the dumb alphabet to us, and a third played on a musical 
 instrument. I was leaning forward, before I had witnessed 
 the above, peering inquisitively dqpn the hole, and saying, 
 " 1 wonder if they would have strength to take anything 
 down witli them," when a large hand suddenly appeared 
 and very nearly took me down, by seizing my nose as if it 
 never meant to let go again. At all events, it took me a peg 
 or two down, for I remember it brought the tears into my 
 eyes with the force it exhibited. After the hands had 
 ceased to appear, the table was moved away, and we sat 
 in a circle in the light. Mrs. Guppy did not wish to take 
 a part in the seance, except as a spectator, so she retired 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 137 
 
 to the back drawing-room with the Baroness Adelma Vay 
 and other visitors, and left Mrs. Hardy with the circle in 
 the front. Suddenly, however, she was levitated and car- 
 ried in the sight of us all into the midst of our circle. As 
 she felt herself rising in the air, she called out, " Don't 
 let go hands for Heaven's sake." We were standing in a 
 ring, and I had hold of the hand of Prince Albert of Solms. 
 As Mrs. Gupyy came sailing over our heads, her feet caught 
 his neck and mine, and in our anxiety to do as she had told 
 us, we gripped tight hold of each other, and were thrown 
 forward on our knees by the force with which she was car- 
 ried past us into the centre. This was a pretty strong 
 proof to us, whatever it may be to others, that our senses 
 did not deceive us when we thought we saw Mrs. Guppy 
 over our heads in the air. The influence that levitated her, 
 moreover, placed her on a chair with such a bump that it 
 broke the two front legs off. As soon as Mrs. Guppy had 
 rejoined us, the order was given to put out the light and to 
 wish for something. We unanimously asked for flowers, it 
 being the middle of December, and a hard frost. Simul- 
 taneously we smelt the smell of fresh earth, and were told 
 to light the gas again, when the following extraordinary 
 sight met our view. In the middle of the sitters, still hold- 
 ing hands, was piled up oti the carpet an immense quantity 
 of mould, which had been torn up apparently with the 
 roots that accompanied it. There were laurestinus, and 
 laurels, and holly, and several others, just as they had been 
 pulled oif£ of the earth and thrown down in the midst of us. 
 !Mrs. Guppy looked anything but pleased at the state of 
 her carpel, and begged the spirits would bring something 
 cleaner next time. They then told us to extinguish the 
 lights again, and each sitter was to wish mentally for some- 
 thing for himself. I wished for a yellow butterfly, know- 
 ing it was December f* and as I thought of it, a little card- 
 board box was put into my hand. Prince Albert whispered 
 to me, ■' Have you got anything ? " " Yes/' I said ; " but 
 not what I asked for. I expeot they have given me a 
 piece of jewellery." When the gas was re-lit, I opened the 
 \)0-s.^ zxid. \\\Qx&\z.y two yellow butterflies ; dead, of course, 
 but none the less extraordinary for that, I wore at that 
 siance a tight-fitting, high white muslin dress, over a tight 
 petticoat body. The dress had no pocket, and I carried 
 my handkerchief, a fine cambric one, in my hand. When 
 
138 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 the siance was over, I found this handkerchief had dis- 
 appeared, at which I was vexed, as it had been embroid- 
 ered for me by my sister Emily, then dead. I inquired of 
 every sitter it they had seen it, even making them turn out 
 their pockets in case they had taken it in mistake for their 
 own, but it was not to be found, and I returned home, as I 
 thought, without it. What was my surprise on removing my 
 dress and petticoat bodice to find the handkerchief, neatly 
 folded into a square of about four inches, between my stays 
 and the garment beneath them ; placed, moreover, over the 
 smallest part of my waist, where no fingers could have 
 penetrated even had my dress been loose. My woman 
 readers may be able better than the men to appreciate the 
 difficulty of such a manoeuvre by mortal means ; indeed it 
 would have been quite impossible for myself or anybody 
 else to place the handkerchief in such a position without 
 removing the stays. And it was folded so neatly also, and 
 placed so smoothly, that there was not a crumple in the 
 cambric. 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 139 
 
 CHAPTER XVr. 
 
 THE MEDIUMSHIP OF FLORENCE COOK. 
 
 In writing of my own mediumship, or the mediumship of 
 any other person, I wish it particularly to be understood 
 that I do not intend my narrative to -be, by any means^ an 
 account oi all seances\\€[^ under that control (for were I 
 to include everything that I have seen and heard during my 
 researches into Spiritualism, this volume would swell to 
 unconscionable dimensions), but only of certain events 
 which I believe to be remarkable, and not enjoyed by 
 every one in like measure. Most people have read of the 
 ordinary phenomena that take place at such meetings. My 
 readers, therefore, will find no description here of marvels 
 which — whether true or false — can be accounted for upon 
 natural grounds. Miss Florence Cook, now Mrs. Elgie 
 Corner, is one of the media who have been most talked of 
 and written about. W.x. Alfred Crookes took an immense 
 interest in her, and published a long account of his investi- 
 gation of Spiritualism under her mediumship. Mr. Henry 
 Dunphy, of the Morning Post, wrote a series of papers for 
 London Society (of which magazine I was then the editor), 
 describing her powers, and the proof she gave of them. 
 The first time I ever met Florence Cook was in his private 
 house, when my little daughter appeared through her [vide 
 " The Story of my Spirit Child"). On that occasion, as 
 we were sitting at supper after the seance — a party of per- 
 haps thirty people — the whole dinner-table, with every- 
 thing upon it, rose bodily in the air to a level with our 
 knees, and the dishes and glasses swayed about in a peril- 
 ous manner, without, however, coming to any permanent 
 harm. I was so much astonished at, and interested by, 
 what I aaw that evening, that I became most anxious to 
 make the personal acquaintance of Miss Cook. She was 
 the medium for the celebrated spirit, " Katie King," of 
 whom so much has been believed and disbelieved, and the 
 siances she gave at her parents' house in Hackney for the 
 
140 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 purpose of seeing this figure alone used to be crowded by 
 the cleverest and most scientific men of the day, Sergeants 
 Cox and Ballantyne, Mr. S. C. Hall, Mr. Alfred Crookes, 
 and many others, being on terms of the greatest intimacy 
 with her. Mr. William Harrison, of the ^/^/r/V/^aZ/j/paper, 
 was the one to procure me an introduction to the family 
 and an entrance to the seances, for which I shall always feel 
 grateful to him. 
 
 For the benefit of the uninitiated, let me begin by 
 telling zuho " Katie King " was supposed to be. Her 
 account of herself was that her name was " Annie 
 Owens ]\Iorgan;" that she was the daughter of Sir Henry 
 Morgan, a famous buccaneer who lived about the time of 
 the Commonwealth, and suffered death upon the high seas, 
 being, in fact, a pirate ; that she herself was about twelve 
 years old when Charles the First was beheaded ; that she 
 married and had two little children \ that she committed 
 more crimes than we should like to hear of, having mur- 
 dered men with her own hands, but yet died quite young, at 
 about two or three and twenty. To all questions concern- 
 ing the reason of her reappearance on earth, she returned 
 but one answer, That it was part of the work given her to 
 do to convince the world of the truth of Spiritualism. This 
 was the information I received from her own lips. She had 
 appeared to the Cooks some years before I saw her, and 
 had become so much one of the family as to walk about 
 the house at all times without alarming the inmates. She 
 often materialized and got into bed with her medium at 
 night, much to Florrie's annoyance ; and after Miss Cook's 
 marriage to Captain Corner, he told me himself that he 
 used to feel at first as if he had married two women, and 
 was not quite sure which was his wife of the two. 
 
 The order of these seances was always the same. Miss 
 Cook retired to a back room, divided from the audience by 
 a thin damask curtain, and presently the form of " Katie 
 King " would appear dressed in white, and walk out 
 amongst the sitters in gaslight, and talk like one of them- 
 selves. Florence Cook (as I mentioned before) is a very 
 small, slight brunette, with dark eyes and dark curly hair 
 and a delicate aquiline nose. Sometimes " Katie " re- 
 sembled her exactly ; at others, she was totally different. 
 Sometimes, too, she measured the same height as her me- 
 dium ; at others, she was much taller. I have a large photo- 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 141 
 
 graph of" Katie " taken under limelight. In it she appears 
 as the double of Florrie Cook, yet Florrie was looking on 
 whilst the picture was taken, I have sat for her several times 
 with Mr. Crookes, and seen the tests applied which are men- 
 tioned in his book on the subject. I have seen Florrie's 
 dark curls ?iailed down to the floor, outside the curtain, in 
 view of the audience, whilst " Katie " walked about and 
 talked with us. I have seen Florrie placed on the scale of 
 a weighing machine constructed by Mr. Crookes for the 
 purpose, behind the curtain, whilst the balance remained 
 in sight. I have seen under these circumstances that the 
 medium weighed eight stone in a normal condition, and 
 Ihat as soon as the materialized form was fully developed, 
 the balance ran up to four stone. Moreover, I have seen 
 both Florrie and " Katie " together on several occasions, so 
 I can have no doubt on the subject that they were two 
 separate creatures. Still, I can quite understand how dif- 
 ficult it must have been for strangers to compare the strong 
 likeness that existed between the medium and the spirit, 
 without suspecting they were one and the same person. 
 One evening " Katie " walked out and perclied herself 
 upon my knee. I could feel she was a much plumper and 
 heavier woman than Miss Cook, but she wonderfully 
 resembled her in features, and I told her so. " Katie " did 
 not seem to consider it a compliment. She shrugged her 
 shoulders, made a grimace, and said, " I know I am ; I 
 can't help it, but I was much prettier than that in earth 
 life. You shall see, some day — you shall see." After she 
 had finally retired that evening, she put her head out at 
 the curtain again and said, with the^trong lisp she always 
 had, " I want Mrs. Ross-Church." I rose and went to her, 
 when she pulled me inside the curtain, when I found it was 
 so thin that the gas shining through it from the outer room 
 made everything in the inner quite visible. " Katie " pulled 
 my dress impatiently and said, " Sit down on the ground," 
 which I did. She then seated herself in my lap, saying, 
 •' And now, dear, we'll have a good ' confab,' like women do 
 on earth." Florence Cook, meanwhile, was lying on a 
 mattress on the ground close to us, wrapped in a deep 
 trance. " Katie " seemed very anxious I should ascertain 
 beyond doubt that it was Florrie. " Touch her," she said, 
 "take her hand, pull her curls. Do you see that it is 
 Florrie lying there ? " When I assured her I was quite 
 
142 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 satisfied there was no doubt of it, the spirit said, " Then 
 look round this way, and see what I was like inearth life." 
 I turned to the form in my arms, and what was my amaze- 
 ment to see a woman fair as the day, with large grey or 
 blue eyes, a white skin, and a profusion of golden red hair. 
 " Katie " enjoyed my surprise, and asked me, " Ain't I 
 prettier than Florrie now ? " She then rose and procured a 
 pair of scissors from the table, and cut off a lock of her own 
 hair and a lock of the medium's, and gave them to me. I 
 have them safe to this day. One is almost black, soft and 
 silky ; the other a coarse golden red. After she had made 
 me this present, " Katie " said, " Go back now, but don't 
 tell the others to-night, or they'll all want to see me." On 
 another very warm evening she sat on my lap amongst the 
 audience, and I felt perspiration on her arm. This sur- 
 prised me ; and I asked her if, for the time being, she had 
 the veins, nerves, and secretions of a human being ; if 
 blood ran through her body, and she had a heart and lungs. 
 Her answer was, " I have everything that Florrie has." 
 On that occasion also she called me after her into the back 
 room, and, dropping her white garment, stood perfectly 
 naked before me. " Now," she said " you can see that I 
 am a woman." Which indeed she was, and a most beauti- 
 fully-made woman too ; and I examined her well, whilst 
 Miss Cook lay beside us on the floor. Instead of dismissing 
 me this time, " Katie " told me to sit down by the medium, 
 and, having brought me a candle and matches, said I was 
 to strike a light as soon as she gave three knocks, as Flor- 
 rie would be hysterical on awaking, and need my assistance. 
 She then knelt dowi^ and kissed me, and I saw she was 
 still naked. " Where is your dress, Katie ? " I asked. " Oh 
 that's gone," she said ; " I've sent it on before me." As 
 she spoke thus, kneeling beside me, she rapped three times 
 on the floor. I struck the match almost simultaneously 
 with the signal ; but as it flared up, " Katie King " was 
 gone like a flash of lightning, and Miss Cook, as she had 
 predicted, awoke with a burst of frightened tears, and had 
 to be soothed into tranquillity again. On another occasion 
 " Katie King " was asked at the beginning of the seance, 
 by one of the company, to say why she could not appear 
 in the light of more than one gasburner. The question 
 seemed to irritate her, and she replied, " I have told you 
 all, several times before, that I can't stay under a searching 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 143 
 
 light. I don't know why ; but I can't, and if you want to 
 prove the truth of what I say, turn up all the gas and see 
 what will happen to me. Only remember, it you do there 
 will be no seance to-night, because I shan't be able to 
 come back again, and you must take your choice. 
 
 Upon this assertion it was put to the vote if the trial 
 should be made or not, and all present (Mr. S. C. Hall 
 was one of the party) decided we would prefer to witness 
 the effect of a full glare of gas upon the materialized form 
 than to have the usual sitting, as it would settle the vexed 
 question of the necessity of gloom (if not darkness) for a 
 materializing seance for ever. We accordingly told " Katie" 
 of our choice, and she consented to stand the test, though 
 she said afterwards we had put her to much pain. She 
 took up her station against the drawing-room wall, with 
 her arms extended as if she were crucified. Then three 
 gas-burners were turned on to their full extent in a room 
 about sixteen feet square. The effect upon " Katie King " 
 was marvellous. She looked like herself for the space of a 
 second only, then she began gradually to melt away. I can 
 compare the dematerialization of her form to nothing but 
 a wax doll melting before a hot fire. First, the features 
 became blurred and indistinct ; they seemed to run into 
 each other. The eyes sunk in the sockets, the nose 
 disappeared, the frontal bone fell in. Next tlie limbs 
 appeared to give way under her, and she sank lower and 
 lower on the carpet like a crumbling edifice. At last there 
 was nothing but her head left above the ground — then a 
 heap of white drapery only, which disappeared with a 
 whisk, as if a hand had pulled it after her — and we were 
 left staring by the light of three gas-burners at the spot on 
 which " Katie King" had stood. 
 
 She was always attired in white drapery, but it varied in 
 quality. Sometimes it looked like long cloth ; at others like 
 mull muslin or jaconet ; oftenest it was a species of thick 
 cotton net. The sitters were much given to asking " Katie " 
 for a piece of her dress to keep as a souvenir of their visit ; 
 and wjien they received it, would seal it up carefully in an 
 envelope and convey it home ; and were much surprised 
 on examining their treasure to find it had totally disap- 
 peared. 
 
 " Katie " used to say that nothing material about her 
 could be made to last without taking away some of the 
 
144 THERE IS uVO DEATH. 
 
 medium's vitality, and weakening her in consequence. One 
 evening, when she was cutting off pieces of her dress 
 rather lavishly, I remarked that it would require a great 
 deal of mending. She answered, " I'll show you how we 
 mend dresses in the Spirit World." She then doubled up 
 the front breadth of her garment a dozen times, and cut 
 two or three round holes in it. I am sure when she let it 
 fall again there must have been thirty or forty holes, and 
 " Katie " said, " Isn't that a nice cullender ? " 
 
 She then commenced, whilst we stood close to her, to 
 shake her skirt gently about, and in a minute it was as 
 perfect as before, without a hole to be seen. When we 
 expressed our astonishment, she told me to take the scis- 
 sors and cut off her hair. She had a profusion of ringlets 
 falling to her waist that night. I obeyed religiously, hack- 
 ing the hair wherever I could, whilst she kept on saying, 
 " Cut more ! cut more ! not for yourself, you know, 
 because you can't take it away." 
 
 So I cut off curl after curl, and as fast as they fell to the 
 ground, the hair greio agaifi upon her head. When I had 
 finished, " Katie " asked me to examine her hair, to see if I 
 could detect any place where I had used the scissors, and 
 I did so without any effect. Neither was the severed hair 
 to be found. It had vanished out of sight. " Katie " was 
 photographed many times, by limelight, by Mr. Alfred 
 Crookes, but her portraits are all too much like her medium 
 to be of any value in establishing her claim to a separate 
 identity. She had always stated she should not appear on 
 this earth after the month of May, 1874; and accordingly, 
 on the 2ist, she assembled her friends to say '•' Good-bye " 
 to them, and I was one of the number. " Katie " had 
 asked Miss Cook to provide her with a large basket of 
 flowers and ribbons, and she sat on the floor and made up a 
 bouquet for each of her friends to keep in remembrance of 
 her. 
 
 Mine, which consists of lilies of the valley and pink gera- 
 nium, looks almost as fresh to-day, nearly seventeen years 
 after, as it did when she gave it to me. It was accompanied 
 by the following words, which " Katie " wrote on a sheet 
 of paper in my presence :— 
 
 " From Annie Owen de Morgan {alias ' Katie ') to her 
 friend Florence Marryat Ross-Church. With love. Pensez 
 a moi. 
 
 ''May 21st, 1874." 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 145 
 
 The farewell scene was as pathetic as if we had been 
 parting with a dear companion by death. " Katie " her- 
 self did not seem to know how to go. She returned again 
 and again to have a last look, especially at Mr. Alfred 
 Crookes, who was as attached to her as she was to him. 
 Her prediction has been fulfilled, and from that day, Flo- 
 rence Cook never saw her again nor heard anything about 
 her. Her place* was shortly filled by another influence, 
 who called herself " Marie," and who danced and sung in 
 a truly professional style, and certainly as Miss Cook never 
 either danced or sung. I should not have mentioned the 
 appearance of this spirit, whom I only saw once or twice, 
 excepting for the following reason. On one occasion Miss 
 Cook (then Mrs. Corner) was giving a public seance at 
 the rooms of the National British Association of Spiritual- 
 ists, at which a certain Sir George Sitwell, a very young 
 man, was present, and at which he declared that the me- 
 dium cheated, and that the spirit " Marie " was herself, 
 dressed up to deceive the audience. Letters appeared in 
 the newspapers about it, and the whole press came down 
 upon Spiritualists, and declared them all to be either 
 knaves or fools. These notices were published on the 
 morning of a day on which Miss Cook was engaged to give 
 another public seance, at which I was present. She was 
 naturally very much cut up about them. Her reputation 
 was at stake ; her honor had been called into question, and 
 being a proud girl, she resented it bitterly. Her present 
 audience was chiefly composed of friends ; but, before 
 commencing, she put it to us whether, whilst under such a 
 stigma, she had better not sit at all. We, who had all 
 tested her and believed in her, were unanimous in repu- 
 diating the vile charges brought against her, and in begging 
 the seance should proceed. Florrie refused, however, to sit 
 unless some one rernained in the cabinet with her, and she 
 chose me for the purpose. I was therefore tied to her 
 securely with a stout rope, and we remained thus fastened 
 together for the whole of the evening. Under which con- 
 ditions " Marie " appeared, and sung and danced outside 
 the cabinet, just as she had done to Sir George Sitwell 
 whilst her medium remained tied to me. So much for 
 men who decide a matter before they have sifted it to the 
 bottom. Mrs. Elgie Corner has long since given up 
 mediumship either private or public, and lives deep down 
 
 10 
 
146 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 in the heart of Wales, where the babble and scandal of the 
 city affect hef no longer. But she told me, only last year, 
 that she would not pass through the suffering she had 
 endured on account of Spiritualism again for all the good 
 this world could give her. 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 147 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE MEDIUMSHIP OF KATIE COOK. 
 
 In the matter of producing physical phenomena the Cooks 
 are a most remarljable family, all three daughters being 
 powerful media, and that without any solicitation on their 
 part. The second one, Katie, is by no means the least 
 powerful of the three, although she has sat more privately 
 than her sister Florence, and not had the same scientific 
 tests (I believe) applied to her. The first time I had an 
 opportunity of testing Katie's mediumship was at the pri- 
 vate rooms of Signor Rondi, in a circle of nine or ten 
 friends. The apartment was small and sj^arsely furni:;hed, 
 being an artist's studio. The gas was kept burning, and 
 before the sitting commenced the door was locked and 
 strips of paper pasted over the opening inside. The cabi- 
 net was formed of a window curtain nailed across one 
 corner of the room, behind which a chair was placed for 
 the medium, who is a remarkably small and slight girl — 
 much slighter than her sister Florence — with a thin face 
 and delicate features. She was dressed, on this occasion, 
 in a tight-fitting black gown and Hessian boots that 
 buttoned half-way to her knee, and which, she informed 
 me, she always wore when sitting (just as Miss Showers 
 did), because they had each eighteen buttons, which took 
 a long time to fasten and unfasten. The party sat in a 
 semicircle, close outside the curtain, and the light was 
 lowered, but not extinguished. There was no darkness, 
 and no holding of hands. I mention these facts to show 
 how very simple the preparations were. In a few minutes 
 the curtain was lifted, and a form, clothed in white, who 
 called herself " Lily," was presented to our view. She 
 answered several questions relative to herself and the 
 medium ; and perceiving some doubt on the part of some 
 of the sitters, she seated herself on my knee, I being near- 
 est the curtain, and asked me to.feel her body, and tell the 
 others how diflferently she was made from the medium. I 
 
148 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 had already realized that she was much heavier than Katie 
 Cook, as she felt like a heavy girl of nine or ten stone. I 
 then passed my hand up and down her figure. She had 
 full breasts and plump arms and legs, and could not have 
 been mistaken by the most casual observers for Miss Cook. 
 Whilst she sat on my knee, however, she desired my hus- 
 band and Signer Rondi to go inside the curtain and feel 
 that the medium was seated in her chair. When they did 
 so, they found Katie was only half entranced. She thrust 
 her feet out to view, and said, " I am not ' Lily; ' feel my 
 boots." My husband had, at the same moment, one hand 
 on Miss Cook's knee, and the other stretched out to feel 
 the figure seated on my lap. There remained no doubt in 
 his mind of there being two bodies there at the same time. 
 Presently " Lily " passed her hand over my dress, and 
 remarked how nice and warm it was, and how she wished 
 she had one on too. I asked her, "Are you cold?" and 
 she said, " Wouldn't you be cold if you had nothing but 
 this white thing on ? " Half-jestingly, I took my fur cloak, 
 which was on a sofa close by, and put it round her shoulders, 
 and told her to wear it. " Lily " seemed delighted. She 
 exclaimed; " Oh, how warm it is ! May I take it away with 
 me ? " I said, " Yes, if you will bring it back before I go 
 home. I have nothing else to wear, remember." She 
 promised she would, and left my side. In another moment 
 she called out, " Turn up the gas ! " We did so. " Lily " 
 was gone, and so was my large fur cloak ! We searched the 
 little room round for it. It had entirely disappeared. 
 There was a locked cupboard in which Signor Rondi kept 
 drawing materials. I insisted on its being opened, although 
 he declared it had not been unlocked for weeks, and we 
 found it full of dust and drawing blocks, but nothing else, 
 so the light was again lowered, and the seance resumed. 
 In a short time the heavy cloak was flung, apparently from 
 the ceiling, evidently from somewhere higher than my 
 head, and fell right over it. 
 
 I laid it again on the sofa, and thought no more about it 
 until I returned home. I then found, to my astonishment, 
 and considerably to my annoyance, that the fur of my cloak 
 (which was a new one) was all coming out. My dress was 
 covered with it, and from that day I was never able to wear 
 the cloak again. " Lily" said she had ^^-materialized it, 
 to take it away. Of the truth of that assertion I had no 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 149 
 
 proof, but I am quite sure that she did not put it together 
 again when she brought it back. An army of moths 
 encamped in it could not have damaged it more, and I can 
 vouch that until that evening the fur had been as perfect 
 as when 1 purchased it. 
 
 I think my next sitting with Katie Cook was at a 
 seance held in Museum Street, and on the invitation 
 of jMr. Chas. Blackburn, who is one of the most earn- 
 est friends of Spiritualism, and has expended a large 
 amount of money in its research. The only other guests 
 were my husband, and General and Mrs. Maclean. We 
 sat round a small uncovered table with the gas burning 
 and without a cabinet, Miss Katie Cook had a seat be- 
 tween General Maclean and myself, and we made sure of 
 her proximity to us during the whole seafice. In fact, I 
 never let go of her hand, and even when she wished to use 
 her pocket-handkerchief, she had to do it with my hand 
 clinging to her own. Neither did she go into a trance. 
 We spoke to her occasionally during the sitting, and she 
 answered us, though in a very subdued voice, as she com- 
 plained of being sick and faint. In about twenty minutes, 
 during which the usual manifestations occurred, the 
 materialized form of " Lily " appeared in the tniddle of the 
 table, and spoke to us and kissed us all in turn. Her face 
 was very small, and she was only formed to the waist, but 
 her flesh was quite firm and warm. Whilst " Lily " occu- 
 pied the table in the full sight of all the sitters, and I had 
 my hand upon Miss Cook's figure (for I kept passing my 
 hand up and down from her face to her knees, to make 
 sure it was not only a hand I held), some one grasped my 
 chair from behind and shook it, and when I turned my 
 head and spoke, in a moment one arm was round my neck 
 and one round the neck of my husband, who sat next to 
 me, whilst the voice of my daughter " Florence " spoke to 
 us both, and her long hair and her soft white dress swept 
 over our faces and hands. Her hair was so abundant and 
 long, that she shook it out over my lap, that I might feel 
 its length and texture. I asked " Florence " for a piece 
 of her hair and dress, and scissors not being forthcoming, 
 " Lily " materialized more fully, and walked round from 
 the other side of the table and cut off a piece of " Flor- 
 ence's " dress herself with my husband's penknife, but said 
 they could not give me the hair that time. The two spirits 
 
I50 THERE IS NO DEATH, 
 
 remained with us for, perhaps, half an hour or more, whilst 
 General Maclean and I continued to hold Miss Cook a 
 prisoner. The power then failing, they disappeared, but 
 every one present was ready to take his oath that two pre- 
 sences had been with us that never entered at the door. The 
 room was small and unfurnished, the gas was burning, the 
 medium sat for the whole time in our sight. Mrs. Mac- 
 lean and I were the only other women present, yet two 
 girls bent over and kissed us, spoke to us, and placed 
 their bare arms on our necks at one and the same time. 
 There was again also a marked difference between the 
 medium and the materializations. I have already described 
 her appearance. Both of these spirits had plump faces 
 and figures, my daughter ** Florence's " hands especially 
 being large and firm, and her loose hair nearly down to 
 her knees. 
 
 I had the pleasure of holding another seance with 
 Katie Cook in the same rooms, when a new manifes- 
 tation occurred. She is (as I have said) a very small 
 woman, with very short arms. I am, on the contrary, a 
 very large woman, with very long arms, yet the arm of the 
 hand I held was elongated to such an extent that it reached 
 the sitters on the other side of the table, where it would 
 have been impossible for mine to follow it. I should think 
 the limb must have been stretched to thrice its natural 
 length, and that in the sight of everybody. I sat again 
 with Katie Cook in her own house, where, if trickery is 
 employed, sh^ had every opportunity of tricking us, but 
 the manifestations were much the same, and certainly not 
 more marvellous than those she had exhibited in the houses 
 of strangers. " Lily " and " Florence " both appeared at 
 the same time, under circumstances that admitted of no 
 possibility of fraud. My husband and I were accompanied 
 on that occasion by our friends, Captain and Mrs. Kendal, 
 and the order of sitting round the table was as follows : — 
 Myself, Katie, Captain K., Florence Cook, my husband, 
 Mrs. Cook, Mrs. Kendal. Each member of the family, it 
 will be observed, was held between two detectives, and 
 their hands were not once set free. I must say also that 
 the seance was a free one, courteously accorded us on the 
 invitation of Mrs. Cook ; and if deception had been in- 
 tended, we and our friends might just as well have been 
 left to sit with Katie alone, whilst the other members of 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 15 1 
 
 the family superintended the manifestation of the " ghosts " 
 outside. Miss Florence Cook, indeed (Mrs. Corner), 
 objected at first to sitting with us, on the score that her 
 mediumship usually neutralized that of her sister, but her 
 mother insisted on her joining the circle, lest any suspicion 
 should be excited by her absence. The Cooks, indeed, 
 are, all of them, rather averse to sitting than not, and cor- 
 dially agree in disliking the powers that have been thrust 
 upon them against their own will. 
 
 These influences take possession of them, unfitting them 
 for more practical work, and they must live. This is, I 
 believe, the sole reason that they have never tried to make 
 money by the exercise of their mediumship. But I, for 
 one, fully believe them when they tell me that they con- 
 sider the fact of their being media as the greatest misfor- 
 tune that has ever happened to them. On the occasion of 
 this last seance, cherries and rosebuds were showered in 
 profusion on the table during the evening. These may 
 easily be believed to have been secreted in the room be- 
 fore the commencement of the sitting, and produced at the 
 proper opportunity, although the hands of everybody in- 
 terested in their production were fast held by strangers. 
 But it is less easy to believe that alady of limited income, 
 like Mrs. Cook, should go to such an expense for an unpaid 
 seance^ for the purpose of making converts of people who 
 were strangers to her. Mediumship pays very badly as it 
 is. I am afraid it would pay still worse if the poor media 
 had to purchase the means for producing the phenomena, 
 especially when, in a town like London, they run (as in 
 this instance) to hothouse fruit and flowers. 
 
 One more example of Katie Cook's powers and I have 
 done. We were assembled one evening by the invitation of 
 Mr. Charles Blackburn at his house, Elgin Crescent. We sat 
 in a small breakfast room on the basement floor, so small, 
 indeed, for the size of the party, that as we encircled a 
 large round table, the sitters' backs touched the wall on 
 either side, thus entirely preventing any one crossing the 
 room whilst we were established there. The only piece of 
 furniture of any consequence in the room, beside the 
 chairs and table, was a trichord cabinet piano, belonging 
 to Mrs. Cook (who was ke^eping house at the time for Mr. 
 Blackburn), and which she much valued. 
 
 Katie Cook sat amongst us as usual. In the middle of 
 the seance her control " Lily," who was materialized, called 
 
152 THERE IS NO DEATH, 
 
 out, " Keep hands fast. Don't let go, whatever you do ! " 
 And at the same time, without seeing anything (for we 
 were sitting in complete darkness), we became conscious 
 that something large and heavy was passing or being 
 carried over our heads. One of the ladies of the party 
 became nervous, and dropped her neighbor's hand with 
 a cry of alarm, and, at the same moment, a weighty 
 body fell with a fearful crash on the other side of the 
 room. " Lily " exclaimed, " Some one has let go hands," 
 and Mrs. Cook called out ; " Oh ! it's my piano." Lights 
 were struck, when we found the cabinet piano had actually 
 been carried from its original position right over our heads 
 to the opposite side of the room, where it had fallen on the 
 floor and been seriously damaged. The two carved legs 
 were broken off, and the sounding board smashed in. Any 
 one who had heard poor Mrs. Cook's lamentations over 
 the ruin of her favorite instrument, and the expense it 
 would entail to get it restored, would have felt little doubt 
 as to whether she had been a willing victim to this unwel- 
 come proof of her daughter's physical mediumship. 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH, 153 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE MEDIUMSHIP OF BESSIE FITZGERALD. 
 
 One evening I went to have a cup of tea with my friend 
 Miss Schonberg at Shepherd's Bush, when she proposed 
 that we should go and have a seance with Mrs. Henry 
 Jencken (Kate Fox), who Hved close by. I hailed the 
 idea, as I had heard such great things of the medium in 
 question, and never had an opportunity of testing them. 
 Consequently, I was proportionately disappointed when, 
 on sending round to her house to ask if she could receive 
 us that evening, we received a message to say that Mr. 
 Jencken, her husband, had died that morning, and she 
 could see no one. Miss Schonberg and I immediately cast 
 about in our minds to see what we should do with our 
 time, and she suggested we should call on Mrs. Fitzgerald. 
 " Who is Mrs. Fitzgerald?" I queried. " A wonderful 
 medium," replied my friend, " whom I met at Mrs. Wilson's 
 last week, and who gave me leave to call on her. Let us 
 go together. And accordingly we set forth for Mrs. Fitz- 
 gerald's residence in the Goldhawk Road. I only men- 
 tion these circumstances to show how utterly unpreme- 
 ditated was my first visit to her. We arrived at her house, 
 and were ushered into a sitting-room, Miss Schonberg only 
 sending up her name. In a few minutes the door opened, 
 and a small, fair woman, dressed in black velvet, entered 
 the room. Miss Schonberg saluted her, and was about to 
 tender some explanation regarding my presence there, when 
 Mrs. Fitzgerald walked straight up to me and took my 
 hand. Her eyes seemed to dilate and contract, like the 
 opening and shutting off of a light, in a manner which I 
 have often seen since, and she uttered rapidly, " You have 
 been married once ; you have been married twice ; and 
 you will be married a third time." I answered, " If you 
 know anything, Mrs. Fitzgerald, you must know that I am 
 very much attached to my husband, and that your informa- 
 tion can give me no pleasure to hear." " No ! " she said, 
 
154 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 "no! I suppose not, but you cannot alter Fate." She 
 then proceeded to speak of things in my past Hfe 
 which had had the greatest influence over the whole of it, 
 occurrences of so private and important a nature that it 
 becomes impossible to write them down here, and for that 
 very reason doubly convincing to the person whom they 
 concern. Presently Mrs. Fitzgerald wandered to her piano, 
 and commenced to play the air of the ballad so firmly con- 
 nected in my mind with John Powles, " Thou art gone 
 from my gaze," whilst she turned and nodded at me saying, 
 " He's here ! " In fact, after a couple of hours' conversa- 
 tion with her, I felt that this stranger in the black velvet 
 dress had turned out every secret of my life, and laid it 
 naked and bare before me. I was wonderfully attracted to 
 her. Her personality pleased me ; her lonely life, living 
 with her two babies in the Goldhawk Road, made me 
 anxious to give her society and pleasure, and her wonder- 
 ful gifts of clairvoyance and trance mediumship, all com- 
 bined to make me desire her friendship, and I gave her a 
 cordial invitation to my house in the Regent's Park, where 
 for some years she was a constant visitor, and always sure 
 of a hearty welcome. It was due to her kindness that I 
 first had the opportunity to study trance mediumship at my 
 leisure, and in a short time we became so familiar with her 
 most constant control, " Dewdrop," a Red Indian girl, 
 and so accustomed to speak through Mrs. Fitzgerald with 
 our own friends gone before, that we welcomed her advent 
 to our house as the signal for holding a spiritual party. For 
 the sake of the uninitiated and curious, I think I had better 
 here describe what is meant by trance mediumship. A 
 person thus gifted has the power of giving him or herself 
 up to the control of the influences in command, who send 
 him or her off" to sleep, a sleep so deep and so like death 
 that the spirit is actually parted pro tem from the body, 
 which other spirits, sometimes living, but far oftener dead, 
 enter and use as if it were their own. I have mentioned 
 in my chapter on " Embodied Spirits " how my living 
 friend in India conversed with me through Bessie Fitzgerald 
 in this way, also how " Florence " spoke to me through the 
 unconscious lips of Mabel Keningale Cook. 
 
 Of course, I am aware that it would be so easy for a 
 medium simply to close her eyes, and, professing to be en- 
 tranced, talk a lot of commonplaces, which open-mouthed 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 155 
 
 fools might accept as a new gospel, that it becomes imper- 
 ative to test this class of media strictly by what they utter, 
 and to place no faith in them until you are convinced 
 that the matters they speak of cannot possibly have been 
 known to any one except the friend whose mouthpiece they 
 profess to be. All this I fully proved for myself from 
 repeated trials and researches j but the unfortunate part of 
 it is, that the more forcible and convincing the private 
 proof, the more difficult it is to place it before the public. 
 I must content myself, tlierefore, with saying that some of 
 my dead friends (so called) came back to me so frequently 
 through Bessie Fitzgerald, and familiarized themselves so 
 completely with my present life, that I forgot sometimes 
 that they had left this world, and flew to them (or rather to 
 Bessie) to seek their advice or ask their sympathy as 
 naturally as if she were their eartly form. Of these my 
 daughter " Florence " was necessarily the most often with 
 me, and she and " Dewdrop " generally divided the time 
 which !Mrs. Fitzgerald spent with us between them. I 
 never saw a control so completely identified with its 
 medium as "Dewdrop" was with Bessie. It was difficult 
 at times to know which was which, and one could never 
 be certain until she spoke whether the spirit or the medium 
 had entered the house. When she did speak, however, 
 there was no mistaking them. Their characters were so 
 different. Bessie Fitzgerald, a quiet, soft spoken little 
 woman, devoted to her children, and generally unobtrusive ; 
 " Dewdrop," a Sioux Indian girl, wary and deep as her 
 tribe and cute and saucy as a Yankee, with an amount 
 of devilry in her that must at times have proved very 
 inconvenient. She used to play Mrs. Fitzgerald tricks 
 in those days that might have brought her into seri- 
 ous trouble, such as controlling her whilst travelling 
 in an omnibus, and talking her Yankee Indian to the 
 passengers until she had made their hair stand on end, 
 with the suspicion that they had a lunatic for a companion. 
 One evening we had a large and rather " swell " evening 
 party, chiefly composed of ladies and gentlemen of the 
 theatrical profession, and entirely of non-spiritualists, 
 excepting ourselves. Mrs. Fitzgerald had been invited to 
 this party, and declined, because it was out of her line. We 
 were therefore rather astonished, when all the guests were 
 assembled, to hear her name announced and see her enter 
 
156 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 the room in a morning dress. Directly I cast eyes upon 
 her, however, I saw that it was not herself, but " Dewdrop." 
 The stride with which -she walked, the waggish way she 
 rolled from side to side, the devilry in her eye, all be- 
 tokened the Indian control. To make matters worse, she 
 went straight up to Colonel Lean, and, throwing herself on 
 the ground at his feet, affectionately laid her head upon his 
 knee, and said, " I'se come to the party." Imagine the 
 astonishment of our guests ! I was obliged at once, in 
 defence of my friend, to explain to them how matters 
 stood ; and though they looked rather incredulous, they 
 were immensely interested, and " Dewdrop's " visit proved 
 to be the event of the evening. She talked to each one 
 separately, telling them liome truths, and prophesying their 
 future in a way that made their cheeks go pale with fright, 
 or red Avith conscious shame, and there was quite a contest 
 between the men as to who should take " Dewdrop " down 
 to the supper table. When there, she made herself parti- 
 cularly lively, making personal remarks aloud that were, 
 in some instances, rather trying to listen to, and which 
 Bessie Fitzgerald would have cut out her tongue sooner 
 than utter. She ate, too, of dishes which would have made 
 Bessie ill for a week. This was another strange peculiarity 
 of " Dewdrop's " control. She not only ousted the spirit ; 
 she regulated the internal machinery of her medium's body. 
 Bessie in her normal condition was a very delicate woman 
 with a weak heart and lungs, and obliged to be most care- 
 ful in her diet. She ate like a sparrow, and of the simplest 
 things. " Dewdrop," on the other hand, liked indigestible 
 food, and devoured it freely ; yet Bessie has told me that 
 she never felt any inconvenience from the food amalga- 
 mated with her system whilst under " Dewdrop's "control. 
 One day when Mrs. Fitzgarald was dining with us, we had 
 some apples at dessert, which she would have liked to par- 
 take of, but was too much afraid of the after consequences. 
 " I dare not," she said ; " if I were to eat a raw apple, I 
 should have indigestion for a week." She took some pre- 
 served ginger instead ; and we were proceeding with our 
 dessert, when I saw her hand steal out and grasp an apple. 
 I looked in her face. " Dewdrop " had taken her place. 
 " Dewdrop/' I said, authoritatively, " you must not eat 
 that. You will hurt Bessie. Put it down directly." 
 
 •' I shan't," replied " Dewdrop," drawing the dish 
 towards her ; " I like apples. I'm always wanting ' Medy ' 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 157 
 
 to eat them, and she won't, so she must go away till I've 
 had as many as I want." And in effect she ate three or 
 four of them, and Bessie would never have been cogni- 
 zant of the fact unless I had informed her. On the occa- 
 sion of the party to whicli she came uninvited, " Dewdrop " 
 remained with us to the very last, and went home in a cab, 
 and landed Mrs. Fitzgerald at her house without her being 
 aware that she had ever left it. At that time we were con- 
 stantly at each other's houses, and many an evening have 
 I spent alone with Bessie in the Goldhawk Road, her ser- 
 vant out marketing and her little children asleep in the 
 room overhead. Her baby was then a great fat fellow of 
 about fifteen months old, who was given to waking and 
 crying for his mother. If " Dewdrop " were present, she was 
 always very impatient with these interruptions. " Bother 
 dat George," she would say ; " I must go up and quiet 
 him." Then she would disappear for a few minutes, while 
 Bessie woke and talked to me, and then, in the twinkling of 
 an eye, "Dewdrop" would be back again. One day, 
 apparently, '• George " would not be comforted, for on 
 '• Dewdrop's " return she said to me, " It's no good ; I've 
 had to bring him down. He's on the mat outside the door ; " 
 and there, sure enough, we found the poor baby wailing in 
 his nightshirt. Not being able to walk, how he had been 
 spirited from the top storey to the bottom I leave my 
 readers to determine. Bessie's little girl ^Mabel promised 
 to be as wonderful a medium as her mother. She would 
 come in from the garden flushed from her play with the 
 " spirit-children," of whom she talked as familiarly as of 
 her little neighbors next door. I have watched her playing 
 at ball with an invisible child, and have seen the ball 
 thrown, arrested half-way in the air, and then -tossed back 
 again just as if a living child had been Mab's opponent. I 
 had lost several infants from premature birth during my 
 second marriage, and the eldest of these, a girl, appeared to 
 be a constant companion of Mabel's. She was always talking 
 of what " Mrs. Lean's girl" (as she called her) had done 
 and said ; and one day she had a violent fit of weeping 
 because her mother would .not promise to buy her a frock 
 like the one " Mrs. Lean's girl'' wore. 
 
 Apropos of these still-born children, I had a curious 
 experience with Mrs. Fitzgerald. I had had no idea until 
 then that children so born possessed any souls, or lived 
 
1S8 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 again, but " Florence" undeceived me when she told me 
 she had charge ofher little brothers and sisters. She even 
 professed to know the names by which they were known in 
 the spirit world. When a still-born baby is launched upon 
 the other side, she said it is delivered over to the nearest 
 relative of its parent, to be called by what name he may 
 choose. Thus my first girl was christened by Colonel 
 Lean's mother " Gertrude," after a bosom friend of her's, 
 and my second my father named " Joan," as he said it was 
 his favorite female name. Upon subsequent inquiry, we 
 found that Mrs. Lean had -x friend called " Gertrude," and 
 that " Joan " was distinctly Captain Marryat's beau ideal 
 of a woman's name. However, that signified but little. I 
 became very curious to see or speak with these unknown 
 babies of mine, and used to worry " Florence " to bring 
 them to me. She would expostulate with me after this 
 fashion : " Dear mother, be reasonable. Remember what 
 babies they are, and that this world is quite strange to them. 
 When your earthly children were small you never 
 allowed them to be brought down before strangers, for 
 fear they should cry. ' Gertie ' and ' Yonnie ' would 
 behave just the same if I brought them back to you now." 
 However, I went on teasing her till she made the attempt, 
 and " Gertie " returned through Mrs. Fitzgereld. It was a 
 long time before we could coax her to remain with us, and 
 when she overcame her first shyness, it was like talking to 
 a little savage. " Gertie " didn't know the meaning of 
 anything, or the names of anything. Her incessant ques- 
 tions of " What's a father?" "What a mother?" "What's 
 a dog?" were very difircult to answer; but she would 
 chatter about- the spirit-world, and what she did there, as 
 glibly as possible. She told us that she knew her brother 
 Francis (the lad who was drowned at sea) very well, and 
 she " ran races, and Francis ' chivied ' her ; and when he 
 caught her, he held her under the fountain, and the spray 
 wetted her frock, and made it look like silver." The word 
 " chivied'" sounding to me very much of a mundane charac- 
 ter, I asked " Gertie " where she learned it ; and she said, 
 " Francis says ' chivy,' so / may," and it was indeed a 
 common expression with him. " Gertie " took, after a 
 while, such a keen interest in my ornaments and china, 
 rather to their endangerment, that I bought a doll to see 
 if she would play with it. At first she was vastly deUjfhted 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 159 
 
 with the "little spirit," as she called it, and nursed it just 
 as a mortal child would have done. But when she began 
 to question me as to the reason the doll did not look at her, 
 or answer her, or move about, and I said it was because it 
 was not alive, she was dreadfully disappointed. " Not 
 alive ! " she echoed ; " didn't God make it ? " and when 
 I replied in the negative, she threw it to the other end of 
 the room, and would never look at it again. 
 
 " Gertie " was about five years old at this period, and 
 seemed to have a great idea of her own importance. She 
 always announced herself as "The Princess Gertie," and 
 was very dignified in her behavior. One day, when a 
 lady friend was present when " (Gertie " came and asked 
 her to kiss her, she extended her hand instead of her face, 
 saying, " You may kiss my hand." 
 
 " Yonnie " (as " Joan " called herself) was but eighteen 
 months old, and used to manifest herself, roaring like a 
 child forcibly dragged before strangers, and the only word 
 we could ever extract from her was " Sugar-plums," Ac- 
 cordingly, I invested in some for her benefit, with which 
 she filled her mouth so full as nearly to choke the medium, 
 and " Florence " rebuked me seriously for my carelessness, 
 and threatened never to bring " Yonnie " down to this 
 earth again. There had been three other children — boys 
 — whom I was equally anxious to see again, but, for some 
 inexplicable reason, " Florence " said it was impossible 
 that they could manifest. The little girls, however, came 
 until we were quite familiar with them. I am aware that 
 all this must sound very childish, but had it not borne a 
 remarkable context, I should not have related it. All the 
 wonder of it will be found later on. 
 
 Mrs. Fitzgerald suffered very much at this time from in- 
 somnia, which she always declared was benefitted after a 
 visit to me. I proposed one night, therefore, when she had 
 stayed with us later than usual, that she should remain and 
 share my bed, and return home in the morning. She con- 
 sented, and at the usual hour we retired to rest together, I 
 taking care to lock the bedroom door and keep the gas burn- 
 ing ; indeed, Bessie was so nervous of what she might see 
 that she would not have remained in the dark for any con- 
 sideration. The bed we occupied was what is called a half 
 tester, with a canopy and curtains on either side. As soon 
 as ever Bessie got into it, she burrowed under the clothes 
 
i6o THERE IS iVO DEATH. 
 
 like a dormouse, and went fast asleep. I was too curious to 
 see what miglit happen to follow her example, so my head 
 remained on the pillow, and my eyes wide open, and turn- 
 ing in every direction. Presently I saw the curtains on 
 the opposite side of the bed gently shaken, next a white 
 hand and arm appeared round them, and was passed up 
 and down the ridge that represented Bessie Fitzgerald's 
 body; finally, after several times stepping forward and 
 retreating again, a female figure emerged and walked to 
 the foot of the bedstead and stood there regarding me. 
 She was, to all appearance, as solidly formed as any human 
 creature could be, and she was as perfectly distinct as 
 though seen by daylight. Her head and bust reminded 
 me at once of the celebrated " Clytie," they were so classi- 
 cally and beautifully formed. Her hair and skin were fair, 
 her eyes luminously liquid and gentle, her whole attitude 
 one of modest dignity. She was clothed in some creamy 
 white material, thick and soft, and intermixed with dull 
 gold. She wore no ornaments, but in her right hand she 
 carried a long branch of palm, or olive, or myrtle, some- 
 thing tall and tapering, and of dark green. She scarcely 
 could be said to smile at me, but there was an indescrib- 
 able appearance of peace and tranquillity about her. When 
 I described this apparition to Bessie in the morning, she 
 recognized it at once as that of her control, " Goodness," 
 whom she had seen clairvoyantly, but she affirmed that I 
 was the only person who had ever given her a correct des- 
 cription of this influence, which was the best and purest 
 about her. After "Goodness" had remained in the same 
 position for a few minutes, she walked back again behind 
 the curtain, which served as a cabinet, and " Florence " 
 came out and had a whispered conversation with me. 
 Next a dark face, but only a face, said to be that of 
 " Dewdrop," peeped out four or five times, and disap- 
 peared again ; then a voice said, " No more ! good-night," 
 and I turned round to where Bessie lay sleeping beside 
 me, and went to sleep myself. After that, she often came, 
 when suffering worse than usual from insomnia, to pass the 
 night with me, as she said my magnetism caused her to 
 sleep, and similar manifestations always occurred when we 
 were alone and together. 
 
 Mrs. Fitzgerald's mediumship was by no means used, 
 however, for the sole purpose of gratifying curiosity or 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. l6l 
 
 foretelling the future. She was a wonderful medical 
 diagnoser, and sat for a long time in the service of a well- 
 known medical man. She would be ensconced in a corner 
 of his waiting-room and tell him the exact disease of each 
 patient that entered. She told me she could see the in- 
 side of everybody as perfectly as though they were made 
 of glass. This gift, however, induced her to take on a 
 reflection (as it were) of the disease she diagnosed, and 
 after a while her failing strength compelled her to give it 
 up. Her control " Dewdrop " was what she called herself, 
 "a metal spirit," i.e., her advice was very trustworthy 
 with regard to all speculations and monetary transactions. 
 Many stockbrokers and city men used regularly to con- 
 sult Bessie before they engaged in any speculation, and 
 she received many valuable presents in return for her 
 assistance in " making a pile." One gentleman, indeed, 
 settled a large sum of money when he died on her little 
 son in gratitude for the fortune " Dewdrop " had helped 
 him to accumulate. Persons who sneer at Spiritualism and 
 declare it to be useless, little know Kow much advantage is 
 taken of spiritual forethought and prevision by those who 
 believe in it. I have never been sorry but when I have 
 neglected to follow the advice of a medium whom I had 
 proved to be trustworthy. 
 
 In the autumn of 1883 I introduced my own entertain- 
 ment of " Love Letters " to the provincial British public, 
 and it had an immediate and undeniable success. My en- 
 gagements poured in rapidly, and I had already booked 
 dates for the whole spring of 1884, when Mr. Edgar Bruce 
 offered me an engagement at the Prince of Wales' (then 
 the Prince's) Theatre, about to be opened in Piccadilly. 
 I had been anxiously waiting to obtain an engagement on 
 the London boards, and was eager to accept it ; still, I 
 did not know if I would be wise in relinquishing my pro- 
 vincial engagements. I wrote to Bessie to ask " Dew- 
 drop " what I should do ; the answer was, " Don't accept, 
 only a flash in the pan." Thereupon I sent to Mr. Bruce 
 to ask how long the engagement w«is likely to last, 
 and his answer was that he expected " The Palace of 
 Truth " to run a year at least, and at any rate I was to 
 consider myself one of a " stock company." Thereupon I 
 cancelled all my entertainment engagements, returned to 
 London, appeared at the Prince's Theatre for \w%\. eleven 
 
 11 
 
l62 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 weeks, and got into four law suits with my disappointed 
 patrons for \\\y trouble. 
 
 It is one of the commonest remarks made by stupid- 
 people, " If the spirits know anything, let them tell 
 me the name of the winner of the Derby, and then 
 I will believe them," etc. I was speaking of this once 
 to " Dewdrop," and she said, " We could tell if we 
 choose, but we are not allowed to do so. If Spiritual- 
 ism was generally used for such things, all the world 
 would rush to it in order to cheat one another. But 
 if you will promise me not to open it until after the Derby 
 is run, I will give you the name of the winner now in a 
 sealed envelope, to prove that what I say is the truth." 
 We gave her the requisite materials, and she made a few 
 pencil marks on a piece of paper, and sealed it up. It was 
 the year that " Shotover " won the Derby. The day after 
 the race, we opened the envelope and found the drawing 
 of a man with a gun in his hand, a hedge, and a bird flying 
 away on the other side ; very sketchy, but perfectly in- 
 telligible to one who could read between the lines. 
 
 I was at the theatre one night with Bessie in a box, v/hen I 
 found out that " Dewdrop " had taken her place. " Dew- 
 drop" was very fond of going to the play, and her re- 
 marks were so funny and so na'ive as to keep one con- 
 stantly amused. Presently, between the acts, she said to 
 me, " Do you see that man in the front row of the stalls 
 with a bald head, sitting next to the old lady with a fat 
 neck ? " I replied I did. " Now you watch," said " Dew- 
 drop ; " " I'm going down there to have some fun. First 
 I'll tickle the old man's head, and then I'll scratch the old 
 woman's neck. Now, you and ' Medie ' watch." The 
 next moment Bessie spoke to me in her own voice, and I 
 told her what " Dewdrop " proposed to do. " Oh, poor 
 things ! " she said, compassionately, " how she will tor- 
 ment them ! " To watch what followed was a perfect 
 farce. First, the old man put his hand up to his bald 
 head, and then he took out his handkerchief and flicked it, 
 then he rubbed it, "and finally scrubhed it to alleviate the 
 increasing irritation. Then the old lady began the same 
 business with her neck, and finding it of no avail, glared at 
 the old man as if she thought he had done it ; in fact, they 
 were both in such evident torture that there was no doubt 
 *' Dewdrop " had kept her promise. When she returned to 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 163 
 
 me she said, " There ! didn't you see me walking along 
 the front row of stalls, in my moccasins and beads and 
 feathers, and all my war-paint on, tickling the old fellow's 
 head ? " "I didn't see you, * Dewdrop,' " I answered, 
 " but I'm sure you were there." "Ah ! but the old fellow 
 felt me, and so did the old girl," she replied. 
 
 Bessie Fitzgerald is now Mrs. Russell Davies, and 
 cajries on her seances in Upper Norwood. No one who 
 attends them can fail to feel interested in the various phe- 
 nomena he will meet with there. 
 
1 64 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE MEDIUMSHIP OF LOTTIE FOWLER. 
 
 As I was introduced to Lottie Fowler many years before I 
 met Bessie Fitzgerald, I suppose the account of her medium- 
 ship should have come first; but I am writing this vera- 
 cious narrative on no fixed or artificial plan, but just as it 
 occurs to me, though not from memory, because notes were 
 taken of every particular at the time of occurrence. In 
 1874 I was largely employed on the London Press, and 
 constantly sent to report on anything novel or curious, and 
 likely to afford matter for an interesting article. It was for 
 such a purpose that I received an order from one of the 
 principal newspapers in town to go and have a complimen- 
 tary seance with an American clairvoyant newly arrived 
 in England, Miss Lottie Fowler. Until I received my 
 directions I had never heard the medium's name, and I 
 knew very little of clairvoyance. She was lodging in Con- 
 duit Street, and I reached her house one morning as early 
 as ten o'clock, and sent in a card with the name of tlie 
 paper only written on it. I was readily admitted. 'Miss 
 Fowler was naturally anxious to be noticed by the press 
 and introduced to London society. I found her a stylish- 
 looking, well-dressed woman of about thirty, with a pleas- 
 ant, intelligent face. Those of my readers who have only 
 met her since sickness and misfortune made inroads on her 
 appearance may smile at my description, but I repeat that 
 seventeen years ago Lottie Fowler was prosperous and 
 energetic-looking. She received me very cordially, and 
 asked me into a little back parlor, of which, as it was sum- 
 mer weather, both the windows and doors were left open. 
 Here, in the sunshine, she sat down and took my hand in 
 hers, and began chatting of what she wished and hoped to 
 do in London, Suddenly her eyes closed and her head 
 fell back. She breathed hard for a few minutes, and then 
 sat up, still with her eyes closed, and began to talk in a 
 high key, and in broken English. This was her well-known 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 165 
 
 control, "Annie," without doubt one of the best clairvoy- 
 ants living. She began by explaining to me that she had 
 been a German girl in earth life, and couldn't speak Eng- 
 lish properly, but I should understand her better when I 
 was more familiar with her. She then commenced with 
 my birth by the sea, described my father's personality and 
 occupation, spoke of my mother, my brothers and sisters, 
 my illnesses, my marriage, and my domestic life. Then 
 she said, •' Wait ! now I'll go to your house, and tell you 
 what I see there." She then repeated the names of all my 
 children, giving a sketch of the character of each one, 
 down to the "baby with the flower name," as she called 
 my little Daisy. After she had really exhausted the sub- 
 ject of my past and present, she said, " You'll say I've 
 read all this out of your mind, so now I'll tell you what I 
 see in the future. You'll be married a second time." 
 Now, at this period I was editing a fashionable magazine, 
 and drew a large number of literary men around me. I 
 kept open house on Tuesday evenings, and had innumer- 
 able friends, and I may (I don't say I had), but I may 
 have sometimes speculated what my fate might be in the 
 event of my becoming free. The seance I speak of took 
 place on a Wednesday morning ; and when "Annie " told me 
 I should be married a second time, my thoughts involun- 
 tarily took to tliemselves wings, I suppose, for she imme- 
 diately followed up her assertion by saying, " No ! not 
 to the man who broke the tumbler at your house last 
 night. You will marry another soldier." " No, thank- 
 you," I exclaimed ; "no more army men for me. I've had 
 enough of soldiers to last me a lifetime." " Annie " looked 
 very grave. " You ixnll marry another soldier," she reiter- 
 ated ; " I can see him now, walking up a terrace. He is 
 very tall and big, and has brown hair cut quite short, but 
 so soft and shiny. At the back of his head he looks as 
 sleek as a mole. He has a broad face, a pleasant, smiling 
 face, and when he laughs he shows very white teeth. I see 
 him knocking at your door. He says, ' Is Mrs. Ross- 
 Church at home ? ' ' Yes, sir.' Then he goes into a room 
 full of books. ' Florence, my wife is dead. Will you be 
 my wife?' And you say 'Yes.'" "Annie" spoke so 
 naturally, and I was so astonished at her knowledge of 
 my affairs, that it never struck me till I returned home 
 that she had called me by my name, which had been kept 
 
l66 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 carefully from her. I asked her, " When will my husband 
 die?" "I don't see his death anywhere," she answered. 
 " But how can I marry again unless he dies ? " I said. " I 
 don't know, but I can't tell you what I don't see. I see a 
 house all in confusion, papers are thrown about, and every- 
 thing is topsy-turvy, and two people are going different 
 ways ; and, oh, there is so much trouble and so many tears ! 
 But I don't see any death anywhere." 
 
 I returned home, very much astonished at all Miss 
 Fowler had said regarding my past and present, but 
 very incredulous with respect to her prophecies for the 
 future. Yet, three years afterwards, when much of 
 what she told me had come to pass, I was travelling 
 from Charing Cross to Fareham with Mr. Grossmith, 
 to give our entertainment of " Entre Nous" when the 
 train stopped as usual to water at Chatham. On the 
 platform stood Colonel Lean, in uniform, talking to some 
 friends. I had never set eyes on him till that moment ; 
 but I said at once to Mr. Grossmith, "Do you see that 
 officer in the undress uniform ? That is the man Lottie 
 Fowler told me I should marry." Her description had 
 been so exact that I recognized him at once. Of course, I 
 got well laughed at, and was ready after a while to laugh 
 at myself. Two months afterwards, however, I was engaged 
 to recite at the Literary Institute at Chatham, where I had 
 never set foot in my life before. Colonel Lean came to 
 the Recital, and introduced himself to me. He became a 
 visitor at my house in London (which, by the by, had been 
 changed for one in a terrace), and two years afterwards, 
 in, June 1879, we were married. I have so far overcome 
 a natural scruple to make my private affairs public, in jus- 
 tice to Lottie Fowler. It is useless narrating anything to 
 do with the supernatural (although I have been taught 
 that this is a wrong term, and that nothing that exists is 
 above nature, but only a continuation of it), unless one is 
 prepared to prove that it was true. Lottie Fowler did not 
 make a long stay in England on that occasion. She 
 returned to America for some time, and I was Mrs. Lean 
 before I met her again. The second visit was a remarkable 
 one. I had been to another medium, who had made me 
 very unhappy by some prophecies with regard to my hus- 
 band's health : indeed, she had said he would not live a 
 couple of years, and I was so excited about it that my 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 167 
 
 friend Miss Schonberg advised our going then and there to 
 see Lottie Fowler, who had just arrived in England, and 
 was staying in Vernon Place, Bloomsbury ; and though it 
 was late at night, we set off at once. The answer to our 
 request to see Miss Fowler was that she was too tired to 
 receive any more visitors that day. " Do ask her to see 
 me," I urged. "I won't detain her a moment; I only 
 want to ask her one question." Upon this, we were 
 admitted, and found Lottie nearly asleep. " Miss Fowler," 
 I began, " you told me five years ago that I should be 
 married a second time. Well, I am married, and now they 
 tell me I shall loose my husband." And then I told her 
 how ill he was, and what the doctors said, and what the 
 medium said. "You told me the truth before," I con- 
 tinued; " tell it me now. Will he die?" Lottie took a 
 locket containing his hair in her hand for a minute, and 
 then replied confidently, " They know nothing about it. 
 He will not die — that is not yet — not for a long while." 
 " But whefi ?" 1 said, despairingly. " Leave that to God, 
 child," she answered, " and be happy now." And in effect 
 Colonel Lean recovered from his illness, and became 
 strong and hearty again. But whence did Miss Fowler 
 gain the confidence to assert that a man whom she had 
 never seen, nor even heard of, should recover from a disease 
 which the doctors pronounced to be mortal ? From that 
 time Lottie and I became fast friends, and continue so to 
 this day. It is a remarkable thing that she would never 
 take a sixpence from me in payment for her services, 
 though I have sat with her scores of times, nor would she 
 accept a present, and that when she has been sorely in 
 need of funds. She said she had been told she should 
 never prosper if she touched my money. She has one of 
 the most grateful and affectionate and generous natures 
 possible, and has half-starved herself for the sake of others 
 who lived upon her. I have seen her under sickness, and 
 poverty, and trouble, and I think she is one of the kindest- 
 hearted and best women living, and I am glad of even this 
 slight opportunity to bear testimony to her disposition. 
 At one time she had a large and fashionable clientele of 
 sitters, who used to pay her handsomely for a seance^ but 
 of late years her clients have fallen off, and her fortunes 
 have proportionately decreased. She has now returned to 
 the Southern States of America, and says she has seen the 
 
l68 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 last of England. All I can say is, that I consider her a 
 great personal loss as a referee in all business matters as 
 well as a prophet for the future. She also, like Bessie 
 Fitzgerald, is a great medical diagnoser. She was largely- 
 consulted by physicians about the Court at the time of the 
 Prince of Wales' dangerous illness, and predicted his 
 recovery from the commencement. It was through her 
 mediumship that the body of the late Lord Lindesay of 
 Balcarres, which was stolen from the family vault, was 
 eventually recovered ; and the present Lord Lindesay gave 
 her a beautiful little watch, enamelled and set in diamonds, 
 in commemoration of the event. She predicted the riot 
 that took place in London some years ago, and the Tay 
 Bridge disaster ; but who is so silly as to believe the pro- 
 phecies of media now-a-days? There has hardly been an 
 event in my life, since I liave known Lottie Fowler, that 
 she has not prepared me for beforehand, but the majority 
 of them are too insignificant to interest the reader. One, 
 however, the saddest I have ever been called upon to 
 encounter, was wonderfully foretold. In February, 1886, 
 Lottie (or rather, '^ Annie ") said to me, " There is a great 
 trouble in store for you, Florris " (she always called me 
 " Florris ") ; " you are passing under black clouds, and 
 there is a coffin hanging over you. It will leave your 
 house." This made me very uneasy. No one lived in my 
 house but my husband and myself. I asked, " Is it my own 
 coffin ? " " No 1 " " Is it my husband's ? " " No ; it is that 
 of a much younger person." 
 
 I questioned her very closely, but she would not tell me 
 any more, and I tried to dismiss the idea from my mind. 
 Still it would constantly recur, for I knew, from experience, 
 how true her predictions were. At last I felt as if I could 
 bear the suspense no longer, and I went to her and said, 
 " You must tell me that the coffin you spoke of is not for 
 one of my children, or the uncertainty will drive me mad." 
 "Annie" thought a minute, and then said slowly, "No; 
 it is not for one of your children." " Then I can bear 
 anything else," I replied. The time went on, and in April an 
 uncle of mine died. I rushed again to Lottie Fowler. " Is 
 this the death you prophesied ? " I asked her. " No," 
 she replied ; " the coffin must leave your house. But this 
 death will be followed by another in the family," which it 
 was within the week. The following February my next- 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 169 
 
 door neighbors lost their only son. I had known the boy 
 for years, and I was very sorry for them. As I was watch- 
 ing the funeral preparations from my bedroom window, 
 I saw the coffin carried out of the hall door, which adjoined 
 mine with only a railing between. Knowing that many 
 prophetical media see \\\t future in a series of pictures, it 
 struck me that Lottie must have seen this coffin leaving, 
 and mistaken the house for mine. I went to her again. 
 This proves how the prediction had weighed all tins time 
 upon my mind. " Has not the death you spoke of taken 
 place flow ? " I asked her. " Has not the coffin left my 
 house ? " " No," she answered ; " it will be a relative, one 
 of the family. It is much nearer now than it was." I felt 
 uncomfortable, but I would not allow it to make me un- 
 happy. " Annie " had said it was not one of my own chil- 
 dren, and so long as they were spared I felt strong enough 
 for anything. 
 
 In the July following my eldest daughter came to 
 me in much distress. She had heard of the death of a 
 friend, one who had been associated with her in her 
 professional life, and the news had shocked her greatly. 
 She had always been opposed to Spiritualism. She didn't 
 see the good of it, and thought I believed in it a great deal 
 more than was necessary. I had often asked her to accom- 
 pany me to seanceSy or to see trance media, and she had 
 refused. She used to say she had no one on tlie other side 
 she cared to speak to. But when her young friend died, 
 she begged me to take her to a medium to hear some news 
 of him, and we went together to Lottie Fowler. " Annie " 
 did not wait for any prompting, but opened the ball at once. 
 " You've come here to ask me how you can see your friend 
 who has just passed over," she said. " Well, he's all right. 
 He's in this room now, and he says you will see him very 
 soon." ^' To which medium shall I go ? " said my daughter. 
 " Don't go to any medium. Wait a little while, and you 
 will see him with your own eyes." My daughter was a 
 physical medium herself, though I had prevented her sit- 
 ting for fear it should injure her health ; and I believed, 
 with her, that "Annie "meant that her friend would man- 
 ifest through her own power. She turned to me and said, 
 " Oh, mother, I shall be awfully frightened if he appears to 
 me at night;" and " Annie" answered, " No, you won't 
 be frightened when you see him. You will be very pleased. 
 
I70 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 Your meeting will be a source of great pleasure on both 
 sides." My daughter had just signed a lucrative engagement, 
 and was about to start on a provincial tour. Her next 
 request was, " Tell me what you see for me in the future." 
 " Annie " replied, " I cannot see it clearly. Another day 
 I may be able to tell you more, but to-day it is all dim. 
 Every time I try to see it a wall seems to rise behind your 
 head and shut it out." Then she turned to me and said, 
 " Florris, that coffin is very near you now. It hangs right 
 over your head ! " I answered carelessly, " I wish it would 
 come and have done with it. It is eighteen months now, 
 Annie, since you uttered that dismal prophecy ! " Little 
 did I really believe that it was to be so quickly and so ter- 
 ribly fulfilled. Three weeks after that seance, my beloved 
 child (who was staying with me) was carried out of my 
 house in her coffin to Kensal Green. I was so stunned by 
 the blow, that it was not for some time after that I re- 
 membered " Annie's " prediction. "When I asked her why 
 she had tortured me with the suspense of coming evil for 
 eighteen months, she said she had been told to do so by 
 my guardian spirits, or my brain would have been injured 
 by the suddenness of the shock. When I asked why she 
 had denied it would be one of my children, she still main- 
 tained that she had obeyed a higher order, because to tell 
 the truth so long beforehand would have half-killed me as in- 
 deed it would. " Annie " said she had no idea, even during 
 that last interview, that the death she predicted was that 
 of the girl before her. She saw her future was misty, and 
 that the coffin was over my head, but she did not connect 
 the two facts together. In like manner I have heard almost 
 every event of my future through Lottie Fowler's lips, and 
 she has never yet proved to be wrong, except in one in- 
 stance of time. She predicted an event for a certain year 
 and it did not take place till afterwards ; and it has made 
 " Annie " so wary, that she steadfastly refuses now to give 
 any dates. I always warn inquirers not to place faith in any 
 given dates. The spirits have told me they have no time 
 in the spheres, but judge of it simply as the reflection of the 
 future appears nearer, or further, from the sitter's face. 
 Thus, something that will happen years hence appears 
 cloudy and far off, whilst the events of next week or next 
 month seem bright and distinct, and quite near. This 
 is a method of judging which can only be gained by prac- 
 tice, and must at all times be uncertain and misleading. 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 171 
 
 I have often acted as amanuensis for Lottie Fowler, for 
 letters are constantly arriving for her from every part of the 
 world which can only be answered under trance, and she 
 has asked me to take down the replies as " Annie " dictated 
 them. I have answered by this means the most searching 
 questions from over the seas relating to health and money 
 and lost articles whilst Lottie was fast asleep and " Annie " 
 dictated the letters, and have received many answers 
 thanking me for acting go-between, and saying how won- 
 derfully correct and valuable the information " Annie " had 
 sent them had proved to be. Of course, it would be im- 
 possible, in this paper, to tell of the constant intercourse 
 I have had with Lottie Fowler during the last ten or twelve 
 years, and the manner in which she has mapped out my 
 future for me, preventing my cherishing false hopes that 
 would never be realized, making bad bargains that would 
 prove monetary losses, and believing in apparent friend- 
 ship that was only a cloak for selfishness and treachery. 
 I have learned many bitter lessons from her lips. I have 
 also made a good deal of money through her means. She 
 has told me what will happen to me between this time and 
 the time of my death, and I feel prepared for the evil and 
 content with the good. Lottie Fowler had very bad health 
 for some time before she left England, and it had become 
 quite necessary that she should go ; but I think if the 
 British public had known what a wonderful woman was in 
 their midst, they would have made it better worth her 
 while to stay amongst them. 
 
 /' 
 
 OF Tl- . 
 
172 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE MEDIUMSHIP OF WILLIAM FLETCHER. 
 
 It may be remembered in the " Story of John Powles "that 
 when, as a perfect stranger to Mr. Fletcher, I walked one 
 evening into the Steinway Hall, I heard him describe the 
 circumstances of my old friend's death in a very startling 
 manner. It made such an impression on me that I became 
 anxious to hear what more Mr. Fletcher might have to say 
 to me in private, and for that purpose I wrote and made 
 an appointment with him at his private residence in Gordon 
 Square. I did not conceal my name, and I knew my name 
 must be familiar to him; for although he had only just 
 arrived from America, I am better known as an author in 
 that country perhaps than in this. But I had no intention 
 of gauging his powers by what he told me of my exterior 
 life ; and by what followed, his guide " Winona " evidently 
 guessed my ideas upon the subject. After the seance I 
 wrote thus concerning it to the Banner of Light, a New 
 York Spiritualistic paper : — 
 
 " I had seen many clairvoyants before, both in public 
 and private, and had witnessed wonderful feats of skill on 
 their part in naming and describing concealed objects, and 
 reading print or writing when held far beyond their reach 
 of sight ; but I knew the trick of all that. If Mr. Fletcher 
 is going to treat me to any mental legerdemain, I thought, 
 as I took my way to Gordon Square, I shall have wasted 
 both my time and trouble upon him ; and, I confess, as I 
 approached the house, that I felt doubtful whether I might 
 not be deceived against my senses by the clever lecturer, 
 whose eloquence had charmed me into desiring a more 
 intimate acquaintance with him. Even the private life of 
 a professional person soon becomes public property in 
 London ; and had Mr. Fletcher wished to find out my 
 
 faults and faiUngs, he had but to apply to , say, my 
 
 dearest friend, or the one upon whom I had bestowed most 
 benefits^ to learn the worst aspect of the wotst side of my 
 
THERE IS iVO DEATH. 173 
 
 character. But the neat little page-boy answered my sum- 
 mons so promptly that I had no time to think of turning 
 back again; and I was ushered through a carpeted hall, 
 and up a staircase into a double drawing-room, strewn with 
 evidence that my clairvoyant friend possessed not only 
 artistic taste, but the means to indulge it. The back room 
 into which I was shown was hung with paintings and fitted 
 with a luxurious causeuse, covered with art needlework, 
 and drawn against the open window, through which miglit 
 be seen some fine old trees in the garden below, and Mr. 
 Fletcher's dogs enjoying themselves beneath their shade. 
 Nothing could be further removed from one's ideas of a 
 haunt of mystery or magic, or the abode of a man who was 
 forced to descend to trickery for a livelihood. In a few 
 minutes Mr. Fletcher entered the room and saluted me 
 with the air of a gentleman. We did not proceed to busi- 
 ness, however, until he had taken me round his rooms, and 
 shown me his favorite pictures, including a portrait of Sara 
 Bernhardt, etched by herself, in the character of Mrs. 
 Clarkson in L'Etrangere. After which we returned to 
 the back drawing-room, and without darkening the win- 
 dows or adopting any precautions, we took our seats upon 
 the causeuse facing each other, whilst Mr. Fletcher laid 
 his left hand lightly upon mine. In the course of a minute 
 I observed several convulsive shivers pass through his 
 frame, his eyes closed, and his head sunk back upon the 
 cushions, apparently in sleep. I sat perfectly still and 
 silent with my hand in his. Presently he reopened his 
 eyes quite naturally, and silting upright, began to speak to 
 me in a very soft, thin, feminine voice. He (or rather his 
 guide " Winuna ") began by saying that she would not 
 waste my time on facts that she might have gathered from 
 the world, but would confine herself to speaking of my 
 inner life. Thereupon, with the most astonishing astute- 
 ness, she told me of my thoughts and feelings, reading them 
 off like a book. She repeated to me words and actions 
 that had been said and done in privacy hundred of miles 
 away. She detailed the characters of my acquaintance, 
 showing who were true and who were false, giving me 
 their names and places of residence. She told me the 
 motives I had had for certain actions, and what was more 
 strange, revealed truths concerning myself which I had not 
 recognized until they were presented to me through the 
 
174 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 medium of a perfect stranger. Every question I put to her 
 was accurately answered, and I was repeatedly invited to 
 draw further revelations from her. The fact being that I 
 was struck almost dumb by what I had heard, and rendered 
 incapable of doing anything but marvel at the wonderful 
 gift that enabled a man, not only to read each thought that 
 passed through my brain, but to see, as in a mirror, scenes 
 that were being enacted miles away with the actors con- 
 cerned in them and the motives that animated them, 
 " Winona" read the future for me as well as the past, and 
 the first distinct prophecy she uttered has already most 
 unexpectedly come to pass. When I announced that I was 
 satisfied, the clairvoyant laid his head back again upon the 
 cushions, the same convulsive shudders passed through 
 his frame, and in another minute he was smiling in my 
 face, and hoping I had a good seance.''' 
 
 This is part of the letter I wrote concerning Mr. Fletcher 
 to the Banner of Light. But a description of words, how- 
 ever strongly put, can never carry the same weight as the 
 words themselves. So anxious am I to make this statement 
 as trustworthy as possible, however, that I will now go 
 further, and give the exact words as " Winona " spoke them 
 to me on that occasion, and as I took them down from her 
 lips. Some parts I must omit, not for my own sake, but 
 because of the treachery they justly ascribed to persons 
 still living in this world. But enough will, I trust, remain 
 to prove how intimately the spirit must have penetrated 
 to my inner life. This is, then, the greater part of what 
 *' Winona " said to me on the 27th of June, 1879 : 
 
 " You are a Child of Destiny, who never was a child. 
 Your life is fuller of tragedies than any life I ever read yet. 
 I will not tell you of the past/a^/x, because they are known 
 to the world, and I might have heard them from others. 
 But I will speak of yourself. I have to leave the earth- 
 world when I come in contact with you, and enter a planet- 
 ary sphere in which you dwell (and ever must dwell) 
 alone. It is as if you were in a room shut off from the rest 
 of mankind. You are one of the world's magnets. You 
 have nothing really in common with the rest. You draw 
 people to you, and live upon their life ; and when they 
 have no more to give, nor you to demand, the liking fades 
 on both sides. It must be so, because the spirit requires 
 food the same as the body ; and when the store is 
 
I'HERE IS NO DEATH. 175 
 
 exhausted, the affection is starved out, and the persons 
 pass out of your life. . You have often wondered to your- 
 self why an acquaintance who seemed necessary to you to- 
 day you can live perfectly well without to-morrow. This 
 is the reason. More than that, if you continue to cling to 
 those whose spiritual system you have exhausted, they 
 would poison you, instead of nourishing you. You may 
 not like it, but those you value most you should oftenest 
 part with. Separation will not decrease your influence 
 over them ; it will increase it. Constant intercourse may 
 be fatal to your dearest affections. You draw so much on 
 others, you empty them, and they have nothing more to 
 give you. You have often wondered, too, why, after you 
 have lived in a place a little while, you become sad, weary, 
 and ill — not physically ill, but mentally so — and you feel 
 as if you must leave it, and go to another place. When 
 you settle in this fresh place, you think at first that it is 
 the very place where you will be content to live and die ; 
 but after a little while the same weariness and faintness 
 comes back again, and you think you cannot breathe till 
 you leave it, as you did the other. This is not fancy. It is 
 because your nature has exhausted all it can draw from its 
 surroundings, and change becomes a necessity to life. You 
 will never be able to live long in any place without change, 
 and let me warn you never to settle yourself down any- 
 where with the idea of living there entirely. Were you 
 forced to do so, you would soon die. You would be starved 
 to death spiritually. All people are not born under a fate, 
 but you were, and you can do very little to change it. 
 England is the country of your fate. You will never pros- 
 per in health, mind, or money in a foreign country. It is 
 good to go abroad for change, but never try to live there. 
 You are thinking of going abroad now, but you will not 
 remain there nearly so long as you anticipate. Something 
 will arise to make you alter your plans — not a real trouble 
 — but an uneasiness. The plan you think of will not 
 answer." (This prediction was fulfilled to the letter.) 
 " This year completes an era in your professional career — 
 not of ill-luck, so much as of stagnation. Your work has 
 been rather duller of late years. The Christmas of 1879 
 will bring you brighter fortune. Some one who has appeared 
 to drop you will come forward again, and take up your 
 cause, and bring you in much money." (This also came 
 
176 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 to pass.) " You have not nearly reached the zenith of 
 your success. It is yet to come. It is only beginning. 
 You will have another child, certainly otie, but I am not 
 sure if it will live in this world. I do not see its earth-life, 
 but I see you in that condition. 
 
 " Your nervous system was for many years strung up to 
 its highest tension — now it is relaxed, and your physical 
 powers are at their lowest ebb. You could not bear a 
 child in your present condition. You must become much 
 lighter-hearted, more contented and at ease before that 
 comes to pass. You must have ceased to wish for a child, 
 or even to expect it. You have never had a heart really 
 at ease yet. All your happiness has been feverish. 
 
 ** I see your evil genius. She is out of your life at pre- 
 sent, but she crossed your path last year, and caused you 
 much heart-burning, and not without reason. It seems to 
 me that some sudden shock or accident put an end to the 
 acquaintance ; but she will cross your path again, and 
 cause you more misery, perhaps, than anything else has 
 don She is not young, but stout, and not handsome, as 
 it seems to me. She is addicted to drinking. I see her 
 rolling about now under the influence of liquor. She has 
 
 been married more than once. I see the name 
 
 written in the air. She would go any lengths to take that 
 you value from you, even to compassing your death. She 
 is madly in love with what is yours. She would do any- 
 thing to compass her ends — not only immoral things, but 
 filth — filth. I have no hesitation in saying this. When- 
 ever she crosses your path, in public or private, flee from 
 her as from a pestilence." (This information was correct 
 in every detail. The name was given at full length. I 
 repeat it as a specimen of the succinctness of intelligence 
 given through trance mediumship.) " 1883 will be a most 
 unfortunate year for you. You will have a severe illness, 
 your friends will not know if you are going to live or die, 
 and during this illness you will endure great mental agony, 
 caused through a woman, one of whose names begins with 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. I77 
 
 , You will meet her some time before, and she will 
 
 profess to be your dearest friend. I see her bending over 
 you, and telling you she is your best friend, and you are 
 disposed to believe it. She is as tall as you are, but does 
 not look so tall from a habit she has of carrying herself. 
 She is not handsome, strictly speaking, but dark and very 
 fascinating. She has a trick of keeping her eyes down 
 when she speaks. She is possibly French, or of French 
 extraction, but speaks English. She will get a hold upon 
 's mind that will nearly separate you." (At this junc- 
 ture I asked, " How can I prevent it ? ") " If I told you, 
 that if you went by the 3 o'clock train from Gower Street, 
 you would be smashed, you would not take that train. 
 When you meet a woman answering this description, stop 
 and ask yourself whether she is the one I have warned 
 you against, before you admit her across the threshold of 
 your house. 
 
 " 's character is positive for good, and negative for 
 
 evil. If what is even for his good were urged upon him, he 
 would refuse to comply ; but present evil to him as a 
 possible good, and he will stop to consider whether it is not 
 so. If he is to be guided aright, it must be by making him 
 believe it would be impossible for him to go wrong. 
 Elevate his nature by elevating his standard of right. 
 Make it impossible for him to lower himself, by convincing 
 him that he would be lowered. He is very conceited. 
 Admiration is the breath of his life. He is always thinking 
 what people will say of him or his actions. He is very weak 
 under temptation, especially the temptation of flattery. He 
 is much too fond of women. You have a difficult task 
 before you, and you have done much harm already through 
 your own fault. He believes too little in the evil of others 
 — much too little. If he were unfaithful to those who trust 
 him, he would be quite surprised to find he had broken 
 their hearts. Your work is but beginning. Hitherto all 
 has been excitement, and there has been but little danger. 
 Now comes monotony and the fear of satiety. Your fault 
 through life has been in not asserting the positive side of 
 your character. You were born to rule, and you have sat 
 down a slave. Either through indolence or despair of suc- 
 
 12 
 
X78 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 cess, you have presented a negative side to the insults 
 offered you, and in the end you have been beaten. You 
 make a great mistake in letting your female friends read 
 all your joys and sorrows. Men would sympathize and 
 pity. Women will only take advantage of them. Assert 
 your dignity as mistress in your own house, and don't let 
 those visitors invite themselves who do not come for you. 
 You are, as it were, the open door for more than one false 
 friend. I warn you especially against two unmarried women 
 — at least, if they are married, I don't see their husbands 
 
 anywhere. They are both too fond of ; one very much 
 
 too fond of him, and you laugh at it, and give your leave 
 for caresses and endearments, which should never be per- 
 mitted. If I were to tell them that they visit at your house 
 
 for , and not for you, they would be very indignant. 
 
 They give you presents, and really like you ; but is 
 
 the attraction, and with one of them it only needs time, 
 place and opportunity to cause the ruin of and your- 
 self. She has an impediment in walking, I need say no 
 more. She wants to become still more familiar, and live 
 under the same roof with you. You must prevent it. The 
 other is doing more harm to herself than to anyone else. 
 She is silly and romantic, and must dream of some one. 
 
 It is a pity it should be encouraged by familiarity. 
 
 has no feeling for them beyond pity and friendship, but it 
 is not necessary he should love a woman to make her 
 dangerous to him. As far as I can see your lives extend, 
 
 will love you, and you will retain your influence over 
 
 him if you choose to do so. But it is in your own hands 
 what you make of him. You must not judge his nature by 
 your own. You are shutting yourself up too much. You 
 should be surrounded by a chcle of men, so that you might 
 
 not draw influence from alone. You should go out 
 
 more, and associate with clever men, and hear what they 
 have to say to you. You must not keep so entirely with 
 
 It is bad for both of you. You are making too 
 
 great a demand upon his spiritual powers, and you will 
 exhaust them too soon. A woman cannot draw spiritual 
 life from women only. She must take it from men. There 
 
 is another acquaintance I must warn you against ; a 
 
 widow, fair hair, light eyes, not clever, but cunning. She 
 has but one purpose in visiting you. She would like to 
 stand in your shoes. She would not hesitate to usurp your 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH, 1 79 
 
 rights. Be civil to her if you will, but do not encourage 
 her visits. It were best if she passed out of your lives 
 altogether. She can never bring you any good luck. She 
 
 may be the cause of much annoyance yet. should 
 
 have work, active and constant, or his health will fail, 
 living in idleness, spiritually and bodily. You tell him too 
 often that you love him. Let him feel there is always a 
 higher height to gain, a lower depth to fall to, in your 
 esteem. He is not the only man in the world. Why should 
 you deceive him by saying so ? You are much to blame." 
 (Considering that Mr. Fletcher had never seen, or, as far 
 as I knew, heard of tlie persons he mentioned in this tirade, 
 it becomes a matter of speculation where or from whom he 
 gathered this keen insight to their character and person- 
 alities, every word of which I can vouch for as being strictly 
 true.) 
 
 '♦Many spirits are round you. Some wish to speak. 
 
 A grand and noble spirit stands behind 
 
 you, with his hands spread in blessing over your head. He 
 is your father. He sends this message : ' My dear child, 
 there were so many influences antagonistic to my own in 
 your late married life, that I found it very difficult to get 
 near you. Now they are removed. The present conditions 
 are much more favorable to me, and I hope to be with 
 you often, and to help you through the life tliat lies before 
 you. There is the face of a glorified spirit, just above your 
 head, and I see the name 'Powles.' This spirit is nearer 
 you, and more attached to you than any other in Spirit 
 Land. He comes only to yau, and one other creature 
 through you — your second child. He says you will know 
 him by the token, the song you sung to him upon his 
 death-bed. His love for you is the best and purest, and 
 he is always by you, though lower influences sometimes 
 forbid his manifesting himself. Your child comes floating 
 down, and joins hands with him. She is a very pure and 
 beautiful spirit.'. She intimates that her name on earth was 
 the same as yours, but she is called by another name in 
 the spheres — a name that has something to do with flowers. 
 She brings me a bunch of pure white lilies, tinged with 
 blue, with blue petals, tied with a piece of blue ribbon, 
 and she intimates tome by gesture that her spirit-name has 
 something to do with them. I think I must go now, 
 tut I hope you will come and sit with me again. I shall 
 
l8o THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 be able to tell you more next time. My name is ' Winona,' 
 
 and when you ask for me I will come. Good-bye " 
 
 This was the end of my first seance with Mr. Fletcher, 
 and I think even sceptics will allow that it was sufficiently 
 startling for the first interview with an entire stranger. 
 The following year I wrote again to the Batmer of Light 
 concerning Mr. Fletcher, but will only give an extract from 
 my letter. " I told you in my letter of last year that I 
 had held a seance with Mr. Fletcher of so private a nature 
 that it was impossible to make it public. During that 
 interview * Winona ' made several startling prophecies con- 
 cerning the future, which, it may interest your readers to 
 know, have already been fulfilled. Wishing to procure 
 some further proofs of Mr. Fletcher's power before I wrote 
 this letter to you, I prepared a different sort of test for him 
 last week. From a drawer full of old letters I selected, 
 with my eyes shut, four folded sheets of paper, which I 
 slipped into four blank envelopes, ready prepared for them 
 — still without looking — and closed them in the usual 
 manner with the adhesive gum, after which I sealed them 
 with sealing wax. I carried these envelopes to Mr. Fletcher, 
 and requested "Winona" to tell me the characters of the 
 persons by whom their contents had been written. She 
 placed them consecutively to the medium's forehead, and 
 as she returned them to me, one by one, I wrote her com- 
 ments on each on the side of the cover. On breaking the 
 seals, the character of each writer was found to be most 
 accurately defined, although the letters had all been written 
 years before — (a fact which " Winona " had immediately 
 discovered). She also told me which of my correspondents 
 were dead, and which living. Here, you will observe, 
 there could have been no reaction of my own brain upon 
 that of the sensitive, as I was perfectly ignorant, until I 
 reopened the envelopes, by whom the letters had been sent 
 to me. Two months ago I was invited to join in a specu- 
 lation, of the advisability of which I felt uncertain. I went 
 therefore to Mr. Fletcher, and asked for an interview with 
 " Winona," intending to consult her in the matter. But 
 before I had time to mention the subject, she broached it 
 to me, and went on to speak of the speculation itself, of 
 the people concerned in it, and the money it was expected 
 to produce ; and, finally, she explained to me how it would 
 collapse, with the means that would bring it to an end, 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. i8i 
 
 putting her decided veto on my having anything to do with 
 it. I followed " Winona's " advice, and have been thankful 
 since that I did so, as everything has turned out just as 
 she predicted." 
 
 I think those people who desire to gain the utmost good 
 they can out of clairvoyance should be more ready to 
 h'sten and learn, and less to cavil and to question. Many 
 who have heard me relate the results of my experience 
 have rushed off pell-mell to the same medium, perhaps, 
 and came away woefully disappointed. Were they to 
 review the interview they would probably find they had 
 done all the talking, and supplied all the information, leav- 
 ing the clairvoyant no work to do whatever. To such I 
 always say, whether their aim is to obtain advice in their 
 business, or news of a lost friend. Be perfectly passive, 
 until the medium has said all he or she may have to say. 
 Give them time to become en rapport with you, and quiet- 
 ude, that he may commune with the spirits you bring with 
 you ; for it is they, and not his controls, that furnish him 
 with the history of your life, or point out the dangers that 
 are threatening. When he has finished speaking, he will 
 probably ask if you have any questions to put to him, and 
 then is your turn for talking, and for gaining any particular 
 information you may wish to acquire. If these directions 
 are carried out, you are likely to have a much more satis- 
 factory seance than otherwise. 
 
l82 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 PRIVATE MEDIA. 
 
 People who wish to argue against Spiritualism are quite 
 sure, as a rule, that media will descend to any trickery 
 and cheating for the sake of gain. If you reply, as in my 
 own case, that the seances have been given as a free-will 
 offering, they say that they expected introductions or 
 popularity or advertisement in exchange. But what can 
 be adduced against the medium who lends his or her 
 powers to a person whom he has never seen, and probably 
 never will see, and for no reason, excepting that his con- 
 trols urge him to the deed ? Such a man is Mr. George 
 Plummer of Massachusetts, America. In December, 1887, 
 when my mind was very unsettled, my friend Miss Schon- 
 berg advised me to write to this medium and ask his ad- 
 vice. She told me I must not expect an immediate reply, 
 as Mr. Plummer kept a box into which he threw all the 
 letters he received from strangers on spiritualistic subjects, 
 and when he felt impressed to do so, he went and took 
 out one, haphazard, and wrote the answer that was dic- 
 tated to him. All I had to do was to enclose an addressed 
 envelope, not a stafnped one, in my letter, to convey the 
 answer back again. Accordingly, I prepared a diplomatic 
 epistle to this effect. " Dear sir, — Hearing that you are 
 good enough to sit for strangers, I shall be much obliged 
 if you will let me know what you see for me. — Yours truly, 
 F. Lane." It will be seen that I transposed the letters oif 
 my name " Lean." I addressed the return envelope in 
 the same manner to the house in Regent's Park, which I 
 then occupied, and I wrote it all in a feigned hand to con- 
 ceal my identity as much as possible. The time went on 
 and I heard nothing from Mr. Plummer. I was touring 
 in the provinces for the whole of 1888, and at the end of 
 the year I came back to London and settled down in a 
 new house in a different quarter of the town. By this time 
 I had almost forgetten Mr. Plummer and my letter to him, 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 183 
 
 and when in December^ 1889, two years after I had sent it, 
 my own envelope in my own handwriting, forwarded by 
 the postal authorities from Regent's Park, was brought to 
 me, I did not at first recognize it. I kept twisting it about, 
 and thinking how like it was to my own writing, when the 
 truth suddenly flashed on me. I opened it and read as 
 follows : 
 
 " Georgetown, November 28th, 1889. 
 
 "Mrs. Lane, — Dear Madam, — Please pardon me for seeming 
 neglect in answering your request. At the time of receiving your letter 
 I could not write, and it got mislaid. Coming across it now, even at 
 the eleventh hour, I place myself in condition to answer. I see a lady 
 with dark blue eyes before me, of a very nervous life — warm-hearted — 
 impulsive — tropical in her nature. A woman of intense feeling — a 
 woman whose life has been one of constant disappointment. To-day 
 the current of life flows on smoothly but monotonous. I sense from 
 the sphere of this lady, a weariness of life — should think she felt like 
 Alexander, because there are no more worlds for her to conquer. She 
 is her own worst enemy. Naturally generous, she radiates her refined 
 magnetic sphere to others, and does not get back that which she can 
 utilize. I see a bright -complexioned gentleman in earth life — brave, 
 generous, and kind — but does not comprehend your interior life. And 
 yet thinks the world of you to-day. I feel from you talent of a marked 
 order. And yet life is a disappointment. Not but what you have 
 been successful in a refined, worldly sense, but your spiritual nature 
 has been repressed. The society you move in is one of intellectual cul- 
 ture ; that is not of the soul. And it is soul food that you are hungering 
 for to-day. You are an inspired woman. Thought seems to you, all 
 prepared, so to speak. But it does not seem to free the tiny little mes- 
 sengers of your soul life. Somehow I don't feel that confidence in my- 
 self in writing to you. The best kind of a reading is usually obtained 
 in reading to a person direct. But it I don't meet your case we will 
 call it a failure and let it go. The year of 1890 is going to be more 
 favorable to you than for the last ten years. I think in some way you 
 are to meet with more reciprocity of soul. As the divining rod points 
 to the stream of water in the earth, so I find my intuitive eye takes 
 cognizance of your interior life. You will in a degree catch my mean- 
 ing through this, and it will come clearer, more through your intuition 
 than through your intellect. I should say to you, follow your instincts 
 and intuitions always through life. If this throws any light over your 
 path I am glad.— I remain, most respectfully yours, 
 
 George Plummer." 
 
 Now there are two noticeable things in this letter. First, 
 Mr. Pluramer's estimate of my interior life almost coincides 
 with Mr. Fletcher's given in 1879, ten years before. Next, 
 although he read it through the medium of a letter written 
 
i84 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 in 1887, he draws a picture of my position and surround- 
 ings in 1889. Both these things appeared to me very 
 curious as coming from a stranger across the Atlantic, and 
 I answered his letter at once, still preserving my slight 
 incognita, and telling him that as he had read so much of 
 my life from my handwriting of so long ago, I wished he 
 would try to read more from words which went fresh from 
 me to him. I also enclosed a piece of the handwriting of 
 a friend. Mr. Plummer did not keep me waiting this time. 
 His next letter was dated February 8th, 1890. 
 
 " Dear Madam, — I received yours of January 3rd, and would have 
 answered before, but the spirit did not move. I have been tied to a 
 sickroom going on three months, with its cares and anxieties. Not 
 the best condition for writing. The best condition to reflect your life, 
 to give your soul strength, is to be at rest and have all earth conditions 
 nullified. But that cannot be to-day. So I will try to penetrate the 
 mystery of your life as best I can, and radiate to you at least some 
 strength. The relation of soul is the difficulty of your life, and you 
 are so perfectly inspirational that it makes the condition worse. Grand 
 types of Manhood and Womanhood come to you from the higher life, 
 and your spirit and soul catch the reflection, and are disappointed be- 
 cause they cannot live that life. But you are getting a development 
 out of all this friction. Now if you would come in contact with that 
 nature that could radiate to you just what you could give to it, you 
 would be happy. Love is absolute, you well know. Often in the 
 exchange of thought we give each other strength. And then every 
 letter we write, every time we shake hands, we give some of our own per- 
 sonality out. You are too sensitive to the spheres of people. You 
 have such a strong personality of life that the power that inspires you 
 could not make the perfect junction until you get so, you had rather die 
 than live. That was a condition of negation. Now you have been 
 running on a dead level of nothingness for two years and a half." 
 (This was exactly the time since my daughter had been taken from 
 me). ^^ I mean it seems so to you. Such a sameness of things. I get 
 from the writing of the gentleman. A good sphere — warmhearted — 
 true to his understanding of things. He seems to be a sort of a half- 
 way house to you. That is, you roam in the sea of Ideality, down 
 deep, you know. And he rather holds on to matter-of-fact — sort of 
 ballast for you. You need it. For you are, in fact, ripe for the other 
 life, though it is not time to go yet. Although a writer, yet you are a 
 disappointed one. No mortal but yourself knows this. You have 
 winged your way in flights, grand and lofty, and cannot /<f« it, is what 
 is the matter. Now, in time you will, more perfectly than to-day, by 
 the touch of your pen, portray your soul and its flights. Then I see 
 you happy. This gentleman is an auxiliary power, whether the power 
 in full of your life I do not to-day get. You are emphatically a woman 
 of Destiny, and should follow yom impressions, for through that in- 
 tuitive law you will be saved. I mean by ' saved,' leap, as it were, 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 185 
 
 across difficulties instead of going round. For your soul is more posi- 
 tive and awake to its necessities to-day than ever before in your life, 
 particularly in the last six months. Body marriages are good under 
 the physical law — bring certain unfoldments. But when mortal man 
 and woman reach a certain condition of development, they become 
 dissatisfied, and yearn for the full fruition of love. And there is no 
 limitation of this law. Women usually bow to the heart-love law, 
 that sometimes brings great joy and misery. The time is ripe for 
 rulers. There will be put into the field men, and more specifically 
 women, who have exemplified love divine. They will teach the law so 
 plainly that they who run can read. And it can only be taught by 
 those who have embodied it. Some years ago, in this country, there 
 was a stir-up. It did its work in fermentation. The next must be 
 humanization. The material world must come under the spiritual. 
 Women will come to the front as inspired powers. This is what comes 
 to me to write to you to-day. If it brings strength, or one ray of sun- 
 shine to you, I am glad. — I remain, most respectfully yours, 
 
 George Pi^ummer." 
 
 Mr. Plummer is not occupying a high position in the 
 world, nor is he a rich man. He gains no popularity by 
 his letters — he hears no applause — he reaps no personal 
 benefit, nor will he take any money. It would be difficult, 
 with any degree of reason, to charge him with cheating 
 the public for the sake of emptying their pockets. I fail 
 to see, therefore, how he can obtain his insight to one's 
 interior life by mortal means, nor, unless compelled by a 
 power superior to his own, why he should take the trouble 
 to obtain it. 
 
 Another medium, whose health paid the sacrifice de- 
 manded of her for the exhibition of a power over which, 
 at one time, she had no control, and which never brought 
 her in anything but the thanks of her friends, is Mrs. 
 Keningale Cook (Mabel Collins), whom I have mentioned 
 in the " Story of my Spirit Child." There was a photo- 
 grapher in London, mamed Hudson, who liad been very 
 successful in developing spirit photographs. He would 
 prepare to take an ordinary photograph, and on develop- 
 ing the plate, one or more spirit forms would be found 
 standing by the sitter, in which forms were recognized the 
 faces of deceased friends. Of course, the generality of 
 people said that the plates were prepared beforehand with 
 vague misty figures, and the imagination of the sitter did 
 the rest. I had been for some time anxious to test Mr. 
 Hudson's powers for myself, and one morning very early, 
 between nine and ten o'clock, I asked Mrs. Cook, as a 
 
1 86 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 medium, to accompany me to his studio. He was not per- 
 sonally acquainted with either of us, and we went so early 
 that we found him rather unwilling to set to work. Indeed, 
 at first he declined. We disturbed him at breakfast and 
 in his shirt sleeves, and he told us his studio had been 
 freshly painted, and it was quite impossible to use it until 
 dry. But we pressed him to take our photographs until 
 he consented, and we ascended to the studio. It was cer- 
 tainly very difficult to avoid painting ourselves, and the 
 screen placed behind was perfectly wet. We had not 
 mentioned a word to Mr. Hudson about spirit photographs, 
 and the first plate he took out and held up to the light, we 
 saw him draw his coat sleeve across. When we asked 
 him what he was doing, he turned to us and said, " Are 
 you ladies Spiritualists?" When we answered in the 
 affirmative, he continued, " I rubbed out the plate because 
 I thought there was something on it, and most sitters 
 would object. I often have to destroy three or four nega- 
 tives before I get a clear picture." We begged him not to 
 rub out any more as we were curious to see the results. 
 He, consequently, developed three photographs of us, 
 sitting side by side. The first was too indistinct to be of 
 any use. It represented us, with a third form, merely a 
 patch of white, lying on the ground, whilst a mass of hair 
 was over my knee. " Florence " afterwards informed me 
 that this was an attempt to depict herself. The second 
 picture showed Mrs. Cook and myself as before, with 
 *' Charlie " standing behind me. I have spoken of " Char- 
 lie " (Stephen Charles Bernard Abbott) in "Curious 
 Coincidences," and how much he was attached to me and 
 mine. In the photograph he is represented in his cowl 
 and monk's frock — with ropes round his waist, and his 
 face looking down. In the third picture, an old lady in a 
 net cap and white shawl was standing with her two hands 
 on Mrs. Cook's shoulders. This was her grandmother, 
 and the profile was so distinctly delineated, that her father, 
 Mr. Mortimer Collins, recognized it at once as the portrait 
 of his mother. The old lady had been a member of the 
 Plymouth Brethren sect, and wore the identical shawl of 
 white silk with an embroidered border which she used to 
 wear during her last years on earth. I have seen many 
 other spirit photographs taken by Mr. Hudson, but I ad- 
 here to my resolution to speak only of that which I have 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 187 
 
 proved by the exercise of my own senses. I have the two 
 photographs I mention to this day, and have often wished 
 that Mr. Hudson's removal from town had not prevented 
 my sitting again to him in order to procure the Ukenesses 
 of other friends. 
 
 Miss Caroline Pawley is a lady who advertises her will- 
 ingness to obtain messages for others from the spirit world, 
 but is forbidden by her guides to take presents or money. 
 I thought at first this must be a ^' ruse." " Surely," I said 
 to a friend who knew Miss Pawley, " I ought to take 
 books, or flowers, or some little offering in my hand." '* If 
 you do she will return them," was the reply. " All that is 
 necessary is to write and make an appointment, as her 
 time is very much taken up." Accordingly I did write, 
 and Miss Pawley kindly named an early date for my visit. 
 It was but a few months after I had lost my beloved 
 daughter, and I longed for news of her. I arrived at Miss 
 Pawley's residence, a neat little house in the suburbs, and 
 was received by my hostess, a sweet, placid-faced woman, 
 who looked the embodiment of peace and calm happiness. 
 After we had exchanged greetings she said to me, " You 
 have lost a daughter." " I lost one about twenty years 
 ago — a baby of ten days old," I replied. " I don't mean 
 her," said Miss Pawley, " I mean a young woman. I will 
 tell you how I came to know of it. I took out my memo- 
 randa yesterday and was looking it through to see what 
 engagements I had made for to-day, and I read the names 
 aloud to myself. As I came to the entry, ' Mrs. Lean, 3 
 o'clock,' I heard a low voice say behind me, ' That is my 
 dear, dear mother ! ' and when I turned round, I saw 
 standing at my elbow a young woman about the middle 
 height, with blue eyes and very long brown hair, and she 
 told me that it is she whom you are grieving for at present." 
 I made no answer to this speech, for my wound was too 
 fresh to permit me to talk of her ; and Miss Pawley pro- 
 ceeded. " Come ! " she said cheerfully, " let us get paper 
 and pencil and see what the dear child has to say to us." 
 She did not go under trance, but wrote rapidly for a few 
 moments and then handed me a letter written in the follow- 
 ing manner. I repeat (what I have said before) that I do 
 not test the genuineness of such a manifestation by the act 
 itself. Anyone might have written the letter, but no one 
 but myself could recognize the familiar expressions and 
 
188 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 handwriting, nor detect the apparent inconsistencies that 
 made it so convincing. It was written in two different 
 hands on alternate hnes, the first line being written by 
 *' Eva," and the next by " Florence," and so on. Now, 
 my earthly children from their earliest days have never 
 called me anything but " Mother," whilst " Florence," who 
 left me before she could speak, constantly calls me 
 " Mamma." This fact alone could never have been known 
 to Miss Pawley. Added to which the portion written by 
 my eldest daughter was in her own clear decided hand, 
 whilst " Florence's " contribution was in rather a childish, 
 or " young ladylike " scribble. 
 
 The lines ran thus. The italics are Florence's : — 
 
 " My own beloved mother. 
 
 My dear, dear, dearest Afamma. 
 
 You must not grieve so terribly for me. 
 
 And knowing all we have taught you, you should not 
 
 grieve. 
 Believe me, I am not unhappy. 
 Of coiirse not, and she zvill be very happy soon. 
 But I suffer pain in seeing you suffer. 
 Dear Mamma, do try to see that it is for the best. 
 Florence is right. It is best ! dear Mother. 
 And we shall all meet so soon, you know. 
 God bless you for all your love for me. 
 Good-bye, dear, dearest Mamrna. 
 Your own girl. 
 Your loving little Florence.^'' 
 
 I cannot comment on this letter. I only make it public 
 in a cause that is sacred to me. 
 
 To instance another case of mediumship which is exer- 
 cised for neither remuneration nor applause. I am 
 obliged in this example to withhold the name, because to 
 betray their identity would be to ill requite a favor which 
 was courteously accorded me. I had heard of a family of 
 
 tlie name of D who held private sittings once a week, 
 
 at which the mother and brothers and sisters gone before 
 materialized and joined the circle ; and having expressed 
 my desire, through a mutual acquaintance, to assist at 
 
 their seances, Mr. D kindly sent me an invitation to 
 
 one. I found he was a high-class tradesman, living in a 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 189 
 
 good house In the suburbs, and that strangers were very 
 seldom (if ever) admitted to their circle. Mr. D ex- 
 plained to me before the seance commenced, that they re- 
 garded Spiritualism as a most sacred thing, that they sat 
 only to have communication with their own relations, his 
 wife and children, and that his wife never manifested except 
 when they were alone. His earth family consisted of a 
 young married daughter and her husband, and four or five 
 children of different ages. He had lost, I think he told me, 
 a grown-up son, and two little ones. William Haxby, the 
 medium, whom I wrote of in my chapter " On Sceptics," 
 and who had passed over since then, had been intimate 
 with their family, and often came back to them. These 
 explanations over, the seance began. The back and front 
 parlors were divided by lace curtains only. In the back, 
 where the young married daughter took up her position on 
 a sofa, were a piano and an American organ. In the front 
 parlor, which was lighted by an oil lamp, we sat about on 
 chairs and sofas, but without any holding of hands. In a 
 very short time the lace curtains parted and a young man's 
 face appeared. This was the grown-up brother. " Hullo ! 
 Tom," they all exclaimed, and the younger ones went up 
 and kissed him. He spoke a while to his father, telling 
 what they proposed to do that evening, but saying his 
 mother would Qot be able to materialize. As he was 
 speaking, a little boy stood by his side. " Here's Harry, " 
 cried the children, and they brought their spirit brother 
 out into the room between them. He seemed to be about 
 five years old. His father told him to come and speak to 
 me, and he obeyed, just like a little human child, and 
 stood before me with his hand resting on my knee. Then 
 a little girl joined the party, and the two children walked 
 about the room, talking to everybody in turn. As we were 
 occupied with them, we heard the notes of the American 
 
 organ. '* Here's Haxby," said Mr. D . " Now we 
 
 shall have a treat." (I must say here that Mr. Haxby 
 was an accomplished organist on earth.) As he heard his 
 name, he, too, came to the curtains, and showed his face 
 with its ungainly features, and intimated that he and 
 " Tom " would play a duet. Accordingly the two instru- 
 ment pealed forth together, and the spirits really played 
 gloriously — a third influence joining in with some stringed 
 instrument. This siance was so much less wonderful than 
 
igo THEJ^ IS NO DEATH. 
 
 many I have written of, that I should not have included a 
 description of it, except to prove that all media do not ply 
 their profession in order to prey upon their fellow-creatures. 
 
 The D family are only anxious to avoid observation. 
 
 There could be no fun or benefit in deceiving each other, 
 and yet they devote one evening in each week to holding 
 communion with those they loved whilst on earth and feel 
 are only hidden from them for a little while, and by a 
 very flimsy veil. Their siances truly carry out the great 
 poet's belief, 
 
 *' Then the forms of the departed 
 Enter at the open door j 
 The beloved, the true-hearted, 
 Come to visit me once more. 
 
 With a slow and noiseless footstep 
 
 Comes that messenger divine. 
 Takes the vacant chair beside me. 
 
 Lays her gentle hand in mine. 
 
 Uttered not, yet, comprehended. 
 
 Is the spirit's voiceless prayer. 
 Soft rebukes, in blessings ended, 
 
 Breathing from her lips of air." 
 
 In the house of the lady I have mentioned in " The 
 Story of the Monk," Mrs. Uniacke of Bruges, I have wit- 
 nessed marvellous phenomena. They were not pleasant 
 manifestations, very far from it, but there was no doubt 
 that they were genuine. Whether they proceeded from 
 the agency of Mrs. Uniacke, my sister Blanche, or a young 
 lady called Miss Robinson, who sat with them, or from the 
 power of all three combined, I cannot say, but they had 
 experienced them on several occasions before I joined 
 them, and were eager that I should be a witness of them. 
 We sat in Mrs. Uniacke's house, in a back drawing-room, 
 containing a piano and several book-cases, full of books — 
 some of them very heavy. We sat round a table in com- 
 plete darkness, only we four women, with locked doors 
 and bolted windows. Accustomed as I was to all sorts of 
 manifestations and mediumship, I was really frightened by 
 what occurred. The table was most violent in its move- 
 ments, our chairs were dragged from under us, and heavy 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 19 1 
 
 articles were thrown about the room. The more Mrs. 
 Uniacke expostulated and Miss Robinson laughed, the 
 worse the tumult became. The books were taken from the 
 shelves and hurled at our heads, several of the blows seri- 
 ously hurting us ; the keys of the piano at the further end 
 of the room were thumped and crashed upon, as if they 
 would be broken ; and in the midst of it all Miss Robinson 
 fell prone upon the floor, and commenced talking in 
 Flemish, a language of which she had no knowledge. My 
 sister understands it, and held a conversation with the 
 girl ; and she told us afterwards that Miss Robinson had 
 announced herself by the name of a Fleming lately de- 
 ceased in the town, and detailed many events of his life, 
 and messages which he wished to be delivered to his 
 family — all of which were conveyed in good and intelligible 
 Flemish. When the young lady had recovered she re- 
 sumed her place at the table, as my sister was anxious I 
 should see another table, which they called " Made- 
 moiselle " dance, whilst unseen hands thumped the piano. 
 The manifestation not occurring, however, they thought it 
 must be my presence, and ordered me away from the table. 
 I went and stood up close against the folding doors that led 
 into the front room, keeping my hand, with a purpose, on 
 the handle. The noise and confusion palpably increased 
 when the three ladies were left alone. " Mademoiselle," 
 who stood in a corner of the room, commenced to dance 
 about, and the notes of the piano crashed forcibly. There 
 was something strange to me about the manifestation of 
 the piano. It sounded as if it were played with feet in- 
 stead of hands. When the tumult was at its height, I sud- 
 denly, and without warning, threw open the folding door 
 and let the light in upon the scene, and I saw the mtisic- 
 stool mounted on the keyboard and hammering the notes 
 down. As the light was admitted, both " Mademoiselle " 
 and the music-stool fell with a crash to the floor, and the 
 stance was over. The ladies were seated at the table, 
 and the floor and articles of furniture were strewn with the 
 books which had been thrown down — the bookshelves 
 being nearly emptied — and pots of flowers. I was never at 
 such a pandemonium before or after. 
 
 The late Sir Percy Shelley and his wife Lady Shelley, 
 having no children of their own, adopted a little girl, who, 
 when about four or five years, was seriously burned about 
 
192 THERE IS NO DEATH, 
 
 the chest and shoulders, and confined for some months to 
 her bed. The child's cot stood in Lady Shelley's bedroom, 
 and when her adopted mother was about to say her 
 prayers, she was accustomed to give the little girl a pencil 
 and piece of paper to keep her quiet. One day the child 
 asked for pen and ink instead of a pencil, and on being 
 refused began to cry, and said, " The 7nan said she must 
 have pen and ink." As it was particularly enjoined that she 
 must not cry for fear of reopening her wounds. Lady 
 Shelley provided her with the desired articles, and pro- 
 ceeded to her devotions. When she rose from them, she 
 saw to her surprise that the child had drawn an outline of 
 a group of figures in the Flaxman style, representing 
 mourners kneeling round a couch with a sick man laid 
 upon it. She did not understand the meaning of the pic- 
 ture, but she was struck with amazement at the execution 
 of it, as was everybody who saw it. From that day she 
 gave the little girl a sheet of card-board each morning, 
 with pen and ink, and obtained a different design, the 
 child always talking glibly of " the man '' who helped her 
 to draw. This went on until the drawings numbered 
 thirty or forty, when a '' glossary of symbols "' was written 
 out by this baby, who could neither write nor spell, which 
 explained the whole matter. It was then discovered that 
 the series of drawings represented the life of the soul on 
 leaving the body, until it was lost " in the Infinity of God " 
 — a likely subject to be chosen, or understood, by a child 
 of five. I heard this story from Lady Shelley's lips, and I 
 have seen (and well examined) the original designs. They 
 were at one time to be published by subscription, but I 
 believe it never came to pass. I have also seen the girl 
 who drew them, most undoubtedly under control. She 
 was then a young married woman and completely ignorant 
 of anything relating to Spiritualism. I asked her if she 
 remembered the circumstances under which she drew the 
 outlines, and she laughed and said no. She knew she had 
 drawn them, but she had no idea how. All she could tell 
 me was that she had never done anything wonderful since, 
 and she had no interest in Spiritualism whatever. 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 193 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 VARIOUS MEDIA. 
 
 A VERY Strong and remarkable clairvoyant is Mr. Towns, 
 of Portobello Road. As a business adviser or foreteller 
 of the Future, I don't think he is excelled. The inquirer 
 after prophecy will not find a grand mansion to receive 
 him in Portobello Road. On the contrary, this soothsayer 
 keeps a small shop in the oil trade, and is himself only an 
 honest, and occasionally rather rough spoken, tradesman. 
 He will see clients privately on any day when he is at 
 liome, though it is better to make an appointment, but he 
 holds a circle on his premises each Tuesday evening, to 
 which everybody is admitted, and where the contribution 
 is anything you may be disposed to give, from coppers to 
 gold. These meetings, which are very well attended, are 
 always opened by Mr. Towns with prayer, after which a 
 hymn is sung, and the seance commences. There is full 
 gas on all the time, and Mr. Towns sits in the midst of the 
 circle. He does not go under trance, but rubs his fore- 
 head for a few minutes and then turns round suddenly and 
 addresses members of his audience, as it may seem, promis- 
 cuously, but it is just as he is impressed. He talks, as a 
 rule, in metaphor, or allegorically, but his meaning is per- 
 fectly plain to the person he addresses. It is not only silly 
 women, or curious inquirers, who attend Mr. Towns' 
 circles. You may see plenty of grave, and often anxious, 
 business men around him, waiting to hear if they shall sell 
 out their shares, or hold on till the market rises ; where 
 they are to search for lost certificates or papers of value ; 
 or on whom they are to fix the blame of money or articles 
 of value that have disappeared. Once in my presence a 
 serious-looking man had kept his eye fixed on him for some 
 time, evidently anxious to speak. Mr. Towns turned sud- 
 denly to him. " You want to know, sir," he commenced, 
 without any preface, " where that baptismal certificate is 
 to be found." " I do, indeed," replied the man ; "it is a 
 
 13 
 
194 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 case of a loss of thousands if it is not forthcoming." "Let 
 me see," said Mr. Towns, with his finger to his forehead. 
 " Have you tried a church with a square tower without 
 any steeple, an ugly, clumsy building, while-washed inside, 
 standing in a village. Stop ! I can see the registrar books 
 
 — the village's name is . The entry is at page 200. 
 
 The name is . The mother s name is . Is that 
 
 the certificate you want ? " " It is, indeed," said the man ; 
 
 "and it is in the church at ?" " Didn't I say it was in 
 
 the church at ? " replied Mr. Towns, who does not like 
 
 to be doubted or contradicted. " Go and you will find it 
 there." And the man did go and did find it there. To 
 listen to the conversations that go on between him and his 
 clients at these meetings, Mr. Towns is apparently not less 
 successful with love affairs than with business affairs, and 
 it is an interesting experience to attend them, if only for 
 the sake of curiosity. But naturally, to visit him privately 
 is to command much more of his attention. He will not, 
 however, sit for everybody, and it is of no use attempting 
 to deceive him. He is exceedingly keen-sighted into 
 character, and if he takes a dislike to a man he will tell 
 him so without the slightest hesitation. No society lies are 
 manufactured in the little oil shop. A relative of mine, 
 who was not the most faithful husband in the world, and 
 who, in consequence, judged of his wife's probity by his 
 own, went, during her temporary absence, to Mr. Towns to 
 ask him a delicate question. The lady was well known to 
 the medium, but the husband he had never seen before, 
 and had no notion who his sitter was, until he pulled out 
 a letter from his pocket, thrust it across the table, and 
 said, " There ! look at that letter and tell me if the writer 
 is faithful to me." Mr. Towns told me that as he took the 
 envelope in his hand, he saw the lady's face photographed 
 upon it, and at the same moment, all the blackness of the 
 husband's own life. He rose up like an avenging deity 
 and pointed to the door. " This letter," he said, " was 
 
 written by Mrs. . Go ! man, and wash your own hands 
 
 clean, and then come and ask me questions about your 
 wife." And so the " heavy swell " had to slink downstairs 
 again. I have often gone myself to Mr. Towns before 
 engaging in any new business, and always received the 
 best advice, and been told exactly what would occur during 
 its progress. When I was about to start on the " Golden 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 195 
 
 Goblin " tour in management with my son — I went to him 
 to ask if it would be successful. He not only told me what 
 money it would bring in, but where the weak points would 
 occur. The drama was then completed, and in course of 
 rehearsal, and had been highly commended by all who had 
 heard and seen it. Mr. Towns, however, who had neither 
 seen nor heard it, insisted it would have to be altered before 
 it was a complete success. This annoyed me, and I knew 
 it would annoy my son, the author ; besides, I believed it 
 was a mistake, so I said nothing about it. Before it had 
 run a month, however, the alterations were admitted on 
 all sides to be necessary, and were consequently made. 
 Everything that Mr. Towns prognosticated on that oc- 
 sion came to pass, even to the strangers I should encounter 
 on tour, and how their acquaintance would affect my future 
 life ; also how long the tour would last, and in which towns 
 it would achieve the greatest success. I can assure some 
 of my professional friends, that if they would take the 
 trouble to consult a trustworthy clairvoyant about their 
 engagements before booking them, they would not find 
 themselves so often in the hands of the bogus manager as 
 they do now. A short time ago I received a summons to 
 the county court, and although I knew I was in the right, 
 yet law has so many loopholes that I felt nervous. The 
 case was called for eleven o'clock on a certain Wednesday, 
 and the evening before I joined Mr. Towns' circle. When 
 it came to my turn to question him, I said, " Do you see 
 where I shall be to-morrow morning ? " He replied, " I 
 can see you are called to appear in a court-house, but the 
 case will be put off." " Put off" I repeated, " but it is fixed 
 for eleven. It can't be put off." " Cases are sometimes 
 relegated to another court," said Mr. Towns, Then I 
 thought he had quite got out of his depth, and replied, 
 " You are making a mistake. This is quite an ordinary 
 business. It can't go to a higher court. But shall I gain 
 it ?" ** In the afternoon," said the medium. His answers 
 so disappointed me that I placed no confidence in them, 
 and went to the county court on the following morning in 
 a nervous condition. But he was perfectly correct. The 
 case was called for eleven, but as the defendant was not 
 forthcoming, it was passed over, and the succeeding 
 hearings occupied so much time, that the magistrate 
 thought mine would never come off, so he relegated it at 
 
196 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 two o'clock to another court to be heard before the registrar, 
 who decided it at once in mv favor, so that T gained it in 
 the afternoon. 
 
 One afternoon in my " green sallet " days of Spiritualism, 
 when every fresh experience almost made my breath stop, 
 I turned into the Progressive Library in Southampton Row, 
 to ask if there were any new media come to town. Mr. 
 Burns did not know of any, but asked me if I had ever 
 attended one of Mrs. Olive's seances, a series of which were 
 being held weekly in the Library Rooms. I had not, and 
 I bought a half-crown ticket for admission, and returned 
 there the same evening. When I entered the seance room, 
 the medium had not arrived, and I had time to take stock 
 of the audience. It seemed a very sad and serious one. 
 There was no whispering nor giggling going on, and it 
 struck me they looked more like patients waiting the 
 advent of the doctor, than people bound on an evening's 
 amusement. And that, to my surprise, was what I after- 
 wards found they actually were, Mrs. Olive did not keep 
 us long waiting, and when she came in, dressed in a lilac 
 muslin dress, with her golden hair parted plainly on her 
 forehead, her very blue eyes, and a sweet, womanly smile 
 for her circle, she looked as unlike the popular idea of a 
 professional medium as anyone could possibly do. She sat 
 down on a chair in the middle of the circle, and, having 
 closed her eyes, went off to sleep. Presently she sat up, 
 and, still with her eyes closed, said in a very pleasant, but 
 decidedly manly, voice : ** And now, my friends, what can 
 I do for you ? " 
 
 A lady in the circle began to ask advice about her 
 daughter. The medium held up her hand. "■ Stop ! " she ex- 
 claimed, " you are doing viy work. Friend, your daughter 
 is ill, you say. Then it is my business to see what is the 
 matter with her. Will you come here, young lady, and let 
 me feel your pulse." Having done which, the medium pro- 
 ceeded to detail exactly the contents of the girl's stomach, 
 and to advise her what to eat and drink for the future. 
 Another lady then advanced with a written prescription. 
 The medium examined her, made an alteration or two in the 
 prescription, and told her to go on with it till further orders. 
 My curiosity was aroused, and I whispered to my next 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH 197 
 
 neighbor to tell me who the control was. " Sir John 
 Forbes, a celebrated physician," she replied. " He has 
 almost as large a connection now as he had when alive." 
 I was not exactly ill at the time, but I was not strong, and 
 nothing that my family doctor prescribed for me seemed to 
 do me any good. So wishing to test the abilities of" Sir 
 John Forbes," I went up to the medium and knelt down by 
 her side. " What is the matter with me, Sir John ? " I 
 begaii. " Don't call me by that name, little friend," he an- 
 swered ; "we have no titles on this side the world." 
 " What shall I call you, then ? " I said. " Doctor, plain 
 Doctor," was the reply, but in such a kind voice. " Then 
 tell me what is the matter with me, Doctor." " Come nearer, 
 and I'll whisper it in your ear." He then gave me a detailed 
 account of the manner in which I suffered, and asked what 
 I had been taking. When I told him. " All wrong, all 
 wrong," he said, shaking his head. " Here ! give me a 
 pencil and paper." I had a notebook in my pocket, with a 
 metallic pencil, which I handed over to him, and he wrote 
 a prescription in it. " Take that, and you'll be all the better, 
 little friend," he said, as he gave it to me back again. 
 When I had time to examine what he had written, I found 
 to my surprise that the prescription was in abbreviated 
 Latin, with the amount of each ingredient given in the 
 regular medical shorthand. Mrs. Olive, a simple though 
 intelligent looking woman, seemed a very unlikely person 
 to me to be educated up to this degree. However, I 
 determined to obtain a better opinion than my own, so the 
 next time my family doctor called to see me, I said : " I 
 have had a prescription given me. Doctor, which I am 
 anxious, with your permission, to try. I wish you would 
 glance your eye over it and see if you approve of my taking 
 it." At the same time I handed him the note-book, and I 
 saw him grow very red as he looked at the prescription. 
 " Anything wrong ? " I inquired. " O ! dear no ! " he re- 
 plied in an offended tone ; " you can try your remedy, 
 and welcome, for aught I care — only, next time you wish 
 to consult a new doctor, I advise you to dismiss the old 
 one first." " But this prescription was not written by a 
 doctor," I argued. At this he looked still more offended. 
 " It's no use trying to deceive me, Mrs. Ross-Church ! 
 That prescription was written by no one but a medical 
 man." It was a long time before I could make him really 
 
198 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 believe who had transcribed it, and under what circum- 
 stances. When he was convinced of the truth of my state- 
 ment, he was very much astonished, and laid all his pro- 
 fessional pique aside. He did more. He not only urged 
 me to have the prescription made up, but he confessed that 
 his first chagrin was due to the fact that he felt he should 
 have thought of it himself. " That,'' he said, pointing to 
 one ingredient, " is the very thing to suit your case, and 
 it makes me feel such a fool to think that a woman should 
 think of what /passed over." 
 
 Nothing would make this doctor believe in Spiritualism, 
 though he continued to aver that only a medical man could 
 have prescribed the medicine ; but as I saw dozens of 
 other cases treated at the time by Mrs. Olive, and have 
 .seen dozens since, I know that she does it by a power not 
 her own. For several years after that " Sir John Forbes " 
 used to give me advice about my health, and when his 
 medium married Colonel Greek and went to live in Russia, 
 he was so sorry to leave his numerous patients, and they to 
 lose him, that he wanted to control me in order that I 
 might carry on his practice, but after several attempts he 
 gave it up as hopeless. He said my brain was too active 
 for any spirit to magnetize ; and he is not the first, nor last, 
 who has made the same attempt, and failed. " Sir John 
 Forbes " was not Mrs. Olive's only control. She had a 
 charming spirit called " Sunshine," who used to come for 
 clairvoyance and prophecy ; and a very comical negro 
 named " Hambo," who was as humorous and full of native 
 wit and repartee, as negroes generally are, and as Mrs. 
 Olive, who is a very gentle, quiet woman, decidedly was 
 not. " Hambo " was the business adviser and director, and 
 sometimes materialized, which the others did not. These 
 three influences were just as opposite from one another, 
 and from Mrs. Olive, as any creatures could possibly be. 
 "Sir John Forbes," so dignified, courteous, and truly bene- 
 volent — such a thorough old gentleman ; " Sunshine," a 
 sweet, sympathetic Indian girl, full of gentle reproof for 
 wrongand exhortations to lead a higher life ; and " Hambo," 
 humorous and witty, caUing a spade a spade, and occa- 
 sionally descending to coarseness, but never unkind or 
 wicked. I knew them all over a space of years until I 
 regarded them as old friends. Mrs. Greek is now a widow, 
 and residing in England, and, I hear, sitting again for her 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 199 
 
 friends. If so, a great benefit in the person of " Sir John 
 Forbes " has returned for a portion of mankind. 
 
 I have kept a well-known physical medium to the last, 
 not because I do not consider his powers to be completely 
 genuine, but because they are of a nature that will not 
 appeal to such as have not witnessed them. I allude to 
 Mr. Charles Williams, with whom I have sat many times 
 alone, and also with Mrs, Guppy Volckman. The mani- 
 festations that take place at his j-(frt!«r<?jare always material. 
 The much written of " John King " is his principal control, 
 and invariably appears under his mediumship ; and " Ern- 
 est " is the name of another. I have seen Charles Williams 
 leave the cabinet under trance and wander in an aimless 
 manner about the room, whilst both " John King " and 
 " Ernest " were with the circle, and have heard them re- 
 prove him for rashness. I have also seen him under the 
 same circumstances, during an afternoon seance, mistake 
 the window curtains for the curtains of the cabinet, and 
 draw them suddenly aside, letting the full light of day in 
 upon the scene, and showing vacancy where a moment 
 before two figures had been standing and talking. 
 
 Once when " John King " asked Colonel Lean what he 
 should bring him, he was told mentally to fetch the half- 
 hoop diamond ring from my finger and place it on that of 
 my husband. 
 
 This half-hoop ring was worn between my wedding ring 
 and a heavy gold snake ring, and I was holding the hand 
 of my neighbor all the time, and yet the ring was abstract- 
 ed from between the other two and transferred to Colonel 
 Lean's finger without my being aware of the circumstance. 
 These and various other marvels, I have seen under Mr. 
 Williams' mediumship ; but as I can adduce no proof that 
 they were genuine, except ray own conviction, it would 
 be useless to write them down here. Only I could not 
 close the list of the media with whom I have familiarly sat 
 in London, and from whom I have received both kindness 
 and courtesy, without including his name. It is the same 
 with several others — with Mr. Frank Heme (now deceased) 
 and his wife Mrs. Heme, whom I first knew as Mrs. Bas- 
 sett, a famous medium for the direct spirit voice ; with 
 Mrs. Wilkinson, a clairvoyant who has a large clientele of 
 wealthy and aristocratic patrons ; with Mrs. Wilkins and 
 Mr.^Vango, both reliable, though, as yet, less well known 
 
200 THERE IS NO DEATH, 
 
 to the spiritualistic public ; and with Dr. Wilson, the 
 astrologer, who will tell you all you have ever done, and 
 all you are ever going to do, if you will only give him the 
 opportunity of casting your horoscope. To all and each I 
 tender my thanks for having afforded me increased oppor- 
 tunities of searching into the truth of a science that 
 possesses the utmost interest for me, and that has given 
 me the greatest pleasure. 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 20I 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 ON LAYING THE CARDS. 
 
 At the risk of being laughed at, I cannot refrain, in the 
 course of ihis narrative of my spiritualistic experiences, 
 from saying a few words about what is called " laying the 
 cards." " Imagine ! " I fancy I hear some dear creature 
 with nose " tip-tilted like a flower " exclaim, " any sensible 
 woman believing in cards." And yet Napoleon believed in 
 them, and regulated the fate of nations by them ; and the 
 only times he neglected their admonitions were followed by 
 the retreat from Moscow and the defeat at Waterloo. Still 
 I did not believe in card-telling till the belief was forced 
 upon me. I always thought it rather cruel to give imprison- 
 ment and hard labor to old women who laid the cards for 
 servant girls. Who can tell whether or no it is obtaining 
 money upon false pretences ; and if it is, why not inflict 
 the same penalty on every cheating tradesman who sells 
 inferior articles or gives short weight ? Women would be 
 told they should look after their own interests in the one 
 case — so why not in the other ? But all the difference lies 
 in who lays the cards. Very few people can do it success- 
 fully, and my belief is that it must be done by a person with 
 mediumistic power, which, in some mysterious manner, 
 influences the disposition of the pack. I have seen cards 
 shufiled and cut twenty times in the hope of getting rid of 
 some number antagonistic to the inquirer's good fortune, 
 and yet each time the same card would turn up in the 
 juxtaposition least to be desired. However, to narrate my 
 own experience. When I was living in Brussels, years 
 before I heard of modern Spiritualism, I made the acquaint- 
 ance of an Irish lady called Mrs. Thorpe, a widow who was 
 engaged as a chdperon for some young Belgian ladies of 
 high birth, who had lost their mother. We lived near each 
 other, and she often came in to have a chat with me. 
 After a while I heard through some other friends that Mrs. 
 Thorpe was a famous hand at "laying the cards;" and 
 
202 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 one day, when we were alone, I asked her to tell me my 
 fortune. I didn't in the least believe in it, but I wanted 
 to be amused. Mrs. Thorpe begged to be excused at once. 
 She told me her predictions had proved so true, she was 
 afraid to look into futurity any more. She had seen a son 
 and heir for a couple who had been married twenty years 
 without having any children, and death for a girl just 
 about to become a bride — and both had come true ; and, 
 in fact, her employer, the Baron, had strictly forbidden 
 her doing it any more whilst in his house. However, this 
 only fired my curiosity, aiid 1 teased her until, on my 
 promising to preserve the strictest secrecy, she complied 
 with my request. She predicted several things in which I 
 had little faith, but which I religiously wrote down in case 
 they came true — the three most important being that my 
 husband, Colonel Ross-Church (who was then most seri- 
 ously ill in India), would not die, but that his brother, 
 Edward Church, would ; that I should have one more child 
 by my first marriage — a daughter with exceedingly fair skin 
 and hair, who would prove to be the cleverest of all my 
 children, and that after her birth I should never hve with 
 my husband again. All these events were most unlikely 
 to come to pass at that time, and, indeed, did not come to 
 pass for years afterwards, yet each one was fulfilled, and 
 the daughter who, unlike all her brothers and sisters, is 
 fair as a lily, will be by no means the last in the race for 
 talent. Yet these cards were laid four years before her 
 birth. Mrs. Thorpe told me she had learnt the art from a 
 pupil of the identical Italian countess who used to lay the 
 cards for the Emperor Napoleon. But it is not an art, and 
 it is not to be learnt. It is inspiration. 
 
 Many years after this, when I had just begun to study 
 Spiritualism, my sister told me of a wonderful old lady, a 
 neighbor of hers, who had gained quite an evil reputation 
 in the village by her prophetical powers with the cards. 
 Like Mrs. Thorpe, she had become afraid of herself, and 
 professed to have given up the practice. The last time 
 she had laid them, a girl acquaintance had walked over 
 joyously from an adjacent village to introduce her affianced 
 husband to her, and to beg her to tell them what would 
 happen in their married life. The old lady had laid the 
 cards, and saw the death card turn up three times with the 
 marriage ring, and told the young people, much to their 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 203 
 
 chagrin, that they must prepare for a disappointment, as 
 their marriage would certainly be postponed from some 
 obstacle arising in the way. She told me afterwards that 
 she dared not tell them more than this. They left her 
 somewhat sobered, but still full of hope, and started on 
 their way home. Before they reached it the young man 
 staggered and fell down dead. No one had expected such 
 a catastrophe. He had been apparently in the best of 
 health and spirits. What was it that had made this old 
 lady foresee what no one else had seen ? 
 
 These are no trumped-up tales after the prediction had 
 been fulfilled. Everyone knew it to be true, and became 
 frightened to look into the future for themselves. I was an 
 exception to the general rule, however, and persuaded Mrs. 
 Simmonds to lay the cards for me. I had just completed 
 a two months' sojourn at the seaside, was in robust health, 
 and anticipating my return home for the sake of meeting 
 again with a friend who was very dear to me. I shuffled 
 and cut the cards according to directions. The old lady 
 looked rather grave. " I don't like your cards," she said, 
 " there is a good deal of trouble before you — trouble and 
 sickness. You will not return home so soon as you antici- 
 pate. You will be detained by illness, and when you do 
 return, you will find a letter on the table that will cut you 
 to the heart. I am sorry you have stayed away so long. 
 There has been treachery in your absence, and a woman 
 just your opposite, with dark eyes and hair, has got the 
 better of you. However, it will be a sharp trouble, but 
 not a lengthy one. You will see the wisdom of it before 
 long, and be thankful it has happened." I accepted my 
 destiny with complacency, never supposing (notwithstand- 
 ing all that I had heard) that it would come true. I was 
 within a few days of starting for home, and had received 
 affectionate letters from my friend all the time I had been 
 away. However, as Fate and the cards would have it, I 
 was taken ill the very day after they were laid for me, and 
 confined for three weeks with a kind of low feve.r to my 
 bed ; and when weakened and depressed I returned to my 
 home I found the letter on my table that Mrs. Simmonds 
 had predicted for me, to say that my friendship with my 
 (supposed) friend was over and done with for ever. After 
 this I began to have more respect for cards, or rather for 
 the persons who successfully laid them. In 1888, when I 
 
204 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 Was touring with my company with the " Golden Goblin," 
 I stayed for the first time in my life in Accrington. Our 
 sojourn there was to be only for a week, and, as may be 
 supposed, the accommodation in the way of lodgings was 
 very poor. When we had been there a iQw days a lady of 
 tlie company said to mc, " There is such a funny old 
 woman at my lodgings, Miss Marryat ! I wish you'd come 
 and see her. She can tell fortunes with the cards, and I 
 know you believe in such things. She has told my husband 
 and me all about ourselves in the most wonderful manner; 
 but you mustn't come when the old man is at home, be- 
 cause he says it's devilry, and he has forbidden her doing 
 it." " I atn very much interested in that sort of thing," I 
 replied, " and I will certainly pay her a visit, if you will 
 tell me when I may come." A time was accordingly fixed 
 for my going to the lady's rooms, and on my arrival there 
 I was introduced to a greasy, snuffy old landlady, who 
 didn't look as if she had a soul above a bottle of gin. 
 However, I sat down at a table with her, and the cards 
 were cut. She told me nothing that my friends might have 
 told her concerning me, but dived at once into the future. 
 My domestic affairs were in a very complicated state at 
 that period, and I had no idea myself how they would end. 
 She saw the whole situation at a glance — described the 
 actors in the scene, the places they lived in, the people by 
 whom they were surrounded, and exactly how the whole 
 business would end, and did end. She foretold the 
 running of the tour, how long it would last, and which of 
 the company would leave before it concluded. She told 
 me that a woman in the company, whom I believed at that 
 time to be attached to me, would prove to be one of my 
 greatest enemies, and be the cause of estrangement between 
 me and one of my nearest relations, and she opened my 
 eyes to that woman's character in a way which forced me 
 afterwards to find out that to which I might have been 
 blind forever. And this information emanated from a dirty, 
 ignorant, old lodging keeper, who had probably never 
 heard of my name until it was thrust before her, and yet 
 told me things that my most intimate and cleverest friends 
 had no power to tell me. After the woman at Accrington 
 I never looked at a card for the purpose of divination until 
 my attention was directed last year to a woman in London 
 who is very clever at the same thing, and a friend asked 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 205 
 
 me to go with her and see what she could tell us. This 
 woman, who is quite of the lower class, and professedly a 
 dressmaker, received us in a bedroom, the door of which 
 was carefully locked. She was an elderly woman and 
 rather intelligent and well educated for her position, but' 
 she could adduce no reason whatever for her facility in 
 reading the cards. She told me " it came to her," she didn't 
 know why or how. 
 
 It " came to her " with a vengeance for me. She rattled 
 off my past, present and future as if she had been reading 
 from an open book, and she mentioned the description of a 
 person (which I completely recognized) so constantly with 
 reference to my future, that I thought I would try her by a 
 question. " Stop a minute," I said, " this person whom 
 you have alluded to so often — have I ever met him ? " 
 " Of course you have met him," she replied, " you know 
 him intimately." " I don't recognize the description," I 
 returned, fallaciously. The woman turned round and 
 looked me full in the face. " You don't recognize him .?" 
 she repeated in an incredulous tone, " then you must be 
 very dull. Well ! I'll tell you how to recognize him. Next 
 time you meet a gentleman out walking who raises his hat, 
 and before he shakes hands with you, draws a written 
 or printed paper from his pocket and presents it to 
 you, you can remember my words. That is the man I 
 mean." 
 
 I laughed at the quaintness of the idea and returned 
 home. As I was walking from the station to my own 
 house I met the person she had described. As he neared 
 me he raised his hat, and then putting his hand in his 
 pocket he said, " Good afternoon ! I have something for 
 you ! I met Burrows this morning. He was going on to 
 you, but as he was in a great hurry he asked me if I was 
 likely to see you to-day to give you this." And he pre- 
 sented me with a printed paper of regulations which I had 
 asked the man he mentioned to procure for me. 
 
 Now, here was no stereotyped utterance of the cards — no 
 stock phrase — but a deliberate prophecy of an unfulfilled 
 event. It is upon such things that I base my opinion that, 
 given certain persons and certain circumstances, the cards 
 are a very fertile source of information, It is absurd in 
 cases like those I have related to lay it all down to chance, 
 to clever guessing, or to trickery. If my readers believe so, 
 
2o6 THERE IS NO DEATH* 
 
 let me ask them to try it for themselves. If it is all folly, 
 and any stupid, ignorant old woman can do it, of course 
 they must be able to master the trick. Let them get a 
 pack of cards and lay them according to the usual direc- 
 •tions — there are any number of books published that will 
 tell them how to do it — and then see if they can foretell a 
 single event of importance correctly. They will probably 
 find (as /do) that the cards are a sealed book to them. I 
 would give a great deal to be able to lay the cards with any 
 degree of success for myself or my friends. But nothing 
 "comes to me." The cards remain painted pieces of card- 
 board, and nothing more. And yet an ignorant creature 
 who has no brains of her own can dive deep into the 
 mysteries of my mind, and turn my inmost thoughts and 
 wishes inside out, — more, can pierce futurity and tell 
 me what shall be. However, if my hearers continue to 
 doubt my story, I can only repeat my admonition to try 
 it for themselves. If they once succeed, they will not give 
 it up again. 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 807 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 SPIRITUALISM IN AMERICA. 
 
 I. Mrs. M. A. Williams. 
 
 I WENT to America on a professional engagement in Octo- 
 ber, 1884. Some months beforehand a very liberal offer 
 had been made me by the Spiritualists of Great Britain to 
 write my experiences for the English press, but I declined 
 to do so until I could add my American notes to them. I 
 had corresponded (as I have shown) with the Ban?ier of 
 Light in New York; and what I had heard of Spiritualism 
 in America had made me curious to witness it. But I was 
 determined to test it on a strictly private plan. I said to 
 myself : *' I have seen and heard pretty nearly all there is 
 to be seen and heard on the subject in England, but, with 
 one or two exceptions, I have never sat at any seance 
 where I was not known. Now I am going to visit a strange 
 country where, in a matter like Spiritualism, I can conceal 
 my identity, so as to afford the media no clue to my sur- 
 roundings or the names of my deceased friends." I sailed 
 for America quite determined to pursue a strictly secret 
 investigation, and with that end in view I never mentioned 
 the subject to anyone. 
 
 I had a few days holiday in New York before proceed- 
 ing to Boston, where my work opened, and I stayed at 
 one of the largest hotels in the city. I landed on Sunday 
 morning, and on Monday evening I resolved to make my 
 first venture. Had I been a visitor in London, I should 
 have had to search out the right sort of people, and make 
 a dozen inquiries before I heard where the media were 
 hiding themselves from dread of the law ; but they order 
 such things better on the other side of the Atlantic. People 
 are allowed to hold their private opinions and their private 
 religion there without being swooped down upon and 
 clapi)ed into prison for rogues and vagabonds. Whatever 
 the views of the majority may be, upon this subject or any 
 
2o8 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 other (and Heaven knows I would have each man strong 
 enough to ding to his opinion, and brave enough to 
 acknowledge it before the world), I think it is a discredit 
 to a civilized country to allow old laws, that were made 
 when we were little better than savages, to remain in force 
 at the present day. We are far too much over-ridden by 
 a paternal Government, which has grown so blind and 
 senile that it swallows camels while it is straining after a 
 gnat. 
 
 There was no obstacle to my wish, however, in New 
 York. I had but to glance down the advertisement columns 
 of the newspapers to learn where the media lived, and on 
 what days they held their public seaticcs. It so happened 
 that Mrs. M. A. Williams was the only one who held open 
 house on Monday evenings for Materialization ; and thither 
 I determined to go. There is no such privacy as in a large 
 hotel, where no one has the opportunity to see what his 
 neighbor is doing. As soon, therefore, as my dinner was 
 concluded, I put on a dark cloak, hat and veil, and walk- 
 ing out into the open, got into one of the cars that ran 
 past the street where Mrs. Williams resided. Arrived at 
 the house, I knocked at the door, and was about to inquire 
 if there was to be any seance there, that evening, when the 
 attendant saved me the trouble by saying, " Upstairs, if 
 you please, madam," and nothing more passed between us. 
 When I had mounted the stairs, I found myself in a large 
 room, the floor of which was covered with a thick carpet, 
 nailed all round the wainscotting. On one side were some 
 thirty or forty cane-bottomed chairs, and directly facing 
 them was the cabinet. This consisted of four uprights 
 nailed over the carpet, with iron rods connecting them at 
 the top. There was no roof to it, but curtains of a dark 
 maroon color were usually drawn around, but when I 
 entered, they were flung back over the iron rods, so as to 
 disclose the interior. There was a stuffed armchair for the 
 use of the medium, and in front of the cabinet a narrow 
 table with papers and pencils on it, the use of which I did 
 not at first discover. At the third side of the room was a 
 harmonium, so placed that the performer sat with his back 
 both to the cabinet and the sitters. A large gas lamp, 
 almost like a limelight, made in a square form like a lan- 
 tern, was fixed against the wall, so as to throw the light 
 upon the cabinet, but it was fitted with a sliding shade of 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 209 
 
 red silk, with which it could be darkened if necessary. I 
 was early, and only a few visitors were occupying the chairs. 
 I asked a lady if I might sit where I chose, and on her 
 answering " Yes," I took the chair in the front row, exactly 
 opposite the cabinet, not forgetting that I was there in the 
 cause of Spiritualism as well as for my own interests. The 
 seats filled rapidly and there must have been ihirty-five or 
 forty people present, when Mrs, Williams entered the 
 room, and nodding to those she knew, went into the cabi- 
 net. Mrs. Williams is a stout woman of middle age, with 
 dark hair and eyes, and a fresh complexion. She was 
 dressed in a tight-fitting gown of pale blue, with a good 
 deal of lace about the neck and sleeves. She was accom- 
 panied by a gentleman, and I then discovered for the first 
 time that it is usual in America to have, what they call, a 
 " conductor " of the seance. The conductor sits close to 
 the cabinet curtains, and, if any spirit is too weak to shew 
 itself outside, or to speak audibly, he conveys the message 
 it may wish to send to its friends ; and when I knew how 
 very few precautions the Americans take to prevent such 
 outrages as have occurred in England, and how many 
 more materializations take place in an evening there than 
 here, I saw the necessity of a conductor to protect the 
 medium, and to regulate the order of the seance. 
 
 Mrs. Williams' conductor opened the proceedings with 
 a very neat little speech. He said, " I see several strange 
 faces here this evening, and I am very pleased to see them, 
 and I hope they may derive both pleasure and profit from 
 our meeting. We have only one rule for the conduct of our 
 siances, that you shall behave like ladies and gentlemen. 
 You may not credit all you see, but remember this is our 
 religion, and the religion of many present, and as you 
 would behave yourselves reverently and decorously, if you 
 were in a church of another persuasion to your own, so I 
 beg of you to behave yourselves here. And if any spirits 
 should come for you whom you do not immediately recog- 
 nize, don't wound them by denying their identity. They 
 may have been longing for this moment to meet you again, 
 and doing their very utmost to assume once more the 
 likeness they wore on earth ; yet some fail. Don't make 
 their failure harder to bear by roughly repudiating all 
 knowledge of them. The strangers who are present to- 
 night may mistake the reason of this little table being 
 
 U 
 
4IO THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 placed in front of the cabinet, and think it is intendeu to 
 keep tliem from too close an inspection of the spirits. No 
 such thing ! On the contrary, all will be invited in turn 
 to come up and recognize their friends. But we make it a 
 rule at these seances that no materialized spirix, who is 
 strong enough to come beyond that table, shall be per- 
 mitted to return to the cabinet. They must dematerialize 
 in sight of the sitters, that no possible suspicion may rest 
 upon the medium. These pencils and papers are placed 
 here in case any spirit who is unable to speak may be 
 impressed to write instead. And now i/e will begin the 
 evening with a song. 
 
 The accompanist then played " Foocsteps of Angels," 
 the audience sung it with a will, and the curtains having 
 been drawn round Mrs. Williams, the shade was drawn 
 across the gaslight, and the seance began. 
 
 I don't think it could have been mure than a minute or 
 two before we heard a voice whispering, " Father," and 
 three girls, dressed in white clinging garments, appeared 
 at the opening in the curtains. An old man with white 
 hair left his seat and walked up to the cabinet, when they 
 all three came out at once and hung about his neck and 
 kissed him, and whispered to him. I almost forgot where 
 I was. They looked so perfectly human, so joyous and 
 girl-like, somewhere between seventeen and twenty, and 
 they all spoke at once, so like what girls on earth would 
 do, that it was most mystifying. The old man came back 
 to his seat, wiping his eyes. " Are those your daughters, 
 sir? " asked one of the sitters. " Yes ! my three girls," he 
 replied. " I lost them all before ten years old, but you 
 see I've got them back again here." 
 
 Several other forms appeared after this — one, a little 
 child of about three years old, who fluttered in and out of 
 the cabinet like a butterfly, and ran laughing away from 
 the sitters who tried to catch her. Some of the meetings 
 that took place for the first time were very affecting. One 
 young man of about seventeen or eighteen, who was called 
 up to see his mother's spirit, sobbed so bitterly, it broke 
 my heart to hear him. There was not the least doubt 
 if ^^ recognized her or no. He was so overcome, he hardly 
 raised his eyes for the rest of the evening. One lady 
 brought her spirit-son up to me, that I might see how per- 
 fectly he had materialized. She spoke of it as proudly as 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 21 1 
 
 she might have done if he had passed some difficult exami- 
 nation. The young man was dressed in a suit of evening 
 clothes, and he shook hands with me at his mother's bid- 
 ding, with the firm grasp of a mortal. Naturally, I had 
 seen too much in England for all this to surprise me. Still 
 I had. never assisted at a j^fl!//^<f where everything appeared 
 to be so strangely human — so little mystical, except indeed 
 the rule of dematerializing before the sitters, which I had 
 only seen " Katie King " do before. But here, each form, 
 after having been warned by the conductor that its time 
 was up, sunk down right through the carpet as though it 
 were the most ordinary mode of egression. Some, and 
 more especially the men, did not advance beyond the cur- 
 tains ; then their friends were invited to go up and si)eak 
 to them, and several went inside the cabinet. There were 
 necessarily a good many forms, familiar to the rest, of whom 
 I knew nothing ; one was an old minister under whom they 
 had all sat, another a gentleman who had been a constant 
 attendant at Mrs. Williams' starices. 
 
 Once the conductor spoke to me. " I am not aware of 
 your name," he said (and I thought, " No ! my friend, and 
 you won't be aware of it just yet either ! "), " but a spirit 
 here wishes you would come up to the cabinet." I advanced, 
 expecting to see some friend, and there stood a Catholic 
 priest with his hand extended in blessing. I knelt down, 
 and he gave me the usual benediction and then closed the 
 curtains. " Did you know the spirit ? " the conducter asked 
 me. I shook my head ; and he continued, " He was Father 
 Hayes, a well-known priest in this city. I suppose you are 
 a Catholic ? " I told him " Yes," and went back to my seat. 
 The conductor addressed me again. " I think Father 
 Hayes must have come to pave the way for some of your 
 friends," he said. " Here is a spirit who says she has come 
 for a lady named ' Florence,' who has just crossed the sea. 
 Do you answer to the description ? " I was about to say 
 ** Yes," when the curtains parted again and my daughter 
 ** Florence " ran across the room and fell into my arms. 
 ** Mother ! " she exclaimed, " I said I would come with you 
 and look after you — didn't I ? " 
 
 I looked at her. She was exactly the same in appear- 
 ance as when she had come to me in England — the same 
 luxuriant brown hair and features and figure, as I had seen 
 under the different mediumships of Florence Cook, Arthur 
 
212 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 Colman, Charles Williams and William Eglinton ; the same 
 form which in England had been declared to be half-a- 
 dozen different media dressed up to represent my daughter 
 stood before me there in New York, thousands of miles 
 across the sea, and by the power of a person who did not 
 even know who I was. If I had not been convinced before, 
 how could I have helped being convinced then ? 
 
 ** Florence " appeared as delighted as I was, and kept 
 on kissing me and talking of what had happened to me on 
 board ship coming over, and was evidently quite au fait 
 of all my proceedings. Presently she said, " There's another 
 friend of yours here, mother ! We came over together. I'll 
 go and fetch him." She was going back to the cabinet 
 when the conductor stopped her. "You must not return 
 this way, please. Any other you like," and she immedi- 
 ately made a kind of court curtsey and went down through 
 the carpel. I was standing where *' Florence " had left 
 me, wondering what would happen next, when she came 
 up again a few feet off from me, head first, and smiling 
 as if she had discovered a new game. She was allowed to 
 enter the cabinet this time, but a moment afterwards she 
 popped her head out again, and said, " Here's your friend, 
 mother ! " and by her side was standing William Eglinton's 
 control, " Joey," clad in his white suit, with a white cap 
 drawn over his head. " ' Florence ' and I have come over 
 to make new lines for you here," he said : "at least, I've 
 come over to put her in the way of doing it, but I can't 
 stay long, you know, because I have to go back to 
 ' Willy.' " 
 
 I really didn't care if he stayed long or not. I seemed 
 to have procured the last proof I needed of the truth of 
 the doctrine I had held so long, that there is no such thing 
 as Death, as we understand it in this world. Here were the 
 two spiritual beings (for believing in the identity of whom 
 I had called myself a credulous fool fifty times over, only 
 to believe in them more deeply still) m propria pei-soicem 
 New York, claiming me in a land of strangers, who had not 
 yet found out who I was. I was more deeply affected than 
 I had ever been under such circumstances before, and more 
 deeply thankful. " Florence " made great friends with our 
 American cousins even on her first appearance. Mrs. 
 Williams' conductor told me he thought he had never 
 heard anything more beautiful than the idea of the spirit- 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 213 
 
 child crossing the ocean to guard its mother in a strange 
 country, and particularly, as he could feel by her influence, 
 what a pure and beautiful spirit she was. When I told 
 him she had left this world at ten days old, he said that 
 accounted for it, but he could see there was nothing earthly 
 about her. 
 
 I was delighted with this seance, and hoped to sit with 
 Mrs. Williams many times more, but fate decreed thai I 
 should leave New York sooner than I had anticipated. 
 The perfect freedom with which it was conducted charmed 
 me, and the spirits seemed so familiar with the sitters. 
 There was no "Sweet Spirit, hear my prayer," business 
 about it. No fear of being detained or handled among the 
 spirits, and no awe, only intense tenderness on the part of 
 their relations. It was to this cause I chiefly attributed 
 the large number of materializations I witnessed— y^t^r/y 
 having taken place that evening. They spoke far more dis- 
 tinctly and audibly too than those I had seen in England, 
 but I believe the dry atmosphere of the United States is 
 far more favorable to the process of materialization. I per- 
 ceived another difference. Although the female spirits 
 were mostly clad in white, they wore dresses and not 
 simply drapery, whilst the men were invariably attired in 
 the clothes (or semblances of the clothes) they would have 
 worn had they been still on earth. I left Mrs. Williams' 
 rooms, determined to see as much as I possibly could of 
 mediumship whilst I was in the United States. 
 
214 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 II. Mrs. Eva Hatch, 
 
 I WAS so disappointed at being hurried off to Boston be- 
 fore I had seen any more of the New York media, that I 
 took the earliest opportunity of attending a seance there. 
 A few words I had heard dropped about Eva Hatch made 
 me resolve to visit her first. She was one of the Shaker 
 sect, and I heard her spoken of as a remarkably pure and 
 honest woman, and most reliable medium. Her first ap- 
 pearance quite gave me that impression. She had a fair, 
 placid countenance, full of sweetness and serenity, and a 
 plump matronly figure. I went incognita, as I had done 
 to Mrs. Williams, and mingled unnoticed with the crowd. 
 Mrs. Hatch's cabinet was quite different from Mrs. Wil- 
 liams'. It was built of planks like a little cottage, and the 
 roof was pierced with numerous round holes for ventila- 
 tion, like a pepper-box. There was a door in the centre, 
 with a window on either side, all three of which were 
 shaded by dark curtains. The windows, I was told, were 
 for the accommodation of those spirits who had not the 
 power to materialize more than a face, or head and bust. 
 Mrs. Hatch's conductor was a woman, who sat near the 
 cabinet, as in the other case. 
 
 Mrs. Eva Hatch had not entered the cabinet five minutes 
 before she came out again, under trance, with a very old 
 lady with silver hair clinging to her arm, and v/alked 
 round the circle. As they did so, the old lady extended 
 her withered hand, and blessed the sitters. She came 
 quite close to each one and was distinctly visible to all. I 
 was told that this was the spirit of Mrs. Hatch's mother, 
 and that it was her regular custom to come first and give 
 her blessing to the seance. I had never seen the spirit of 
 an aged person before, and it was a beautiful sight. She 
 was the sweetest old lady too, very small and fragile look- 
 ing, and half reclining on her daughter's bosom, but smil- 
 ing serenely upon every one there. When they had made 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 215 
 
 the tour of the room, Mrs. Hatch re-entered the cabinet, 
 and did not leave il again until the sitting was concluded. 
 
 There were a great many sitters present, most of whom 
 were old patrons of Mrs. Hatch, and so, naturally, their 
 friends came for them first. It is surprising though, when 
 once familiarized with materialization, how little one grows 
 to care to see the spirits who come for one's next door 
 neighbor. They are like a lot of prisoners let out, one by 
 one, to see their friends and relations. The few moments 
 they have to spare are entirely devoted to home matters of 
 no possible interest to the bystander. The first wonder 
 and possible shock at seeing the supposed dead return in 
 their old likeness to greet those they left on earth over, 
 one listens with languid indifference, and perhaps a little 
 impatience for one's own turn to come, to the whispered 
 utterances of strangers. Mrs. Hatch's " cabinet spirits " 
 or " controls," however, were very interesting. One, who 
 called herself the " Spirit of Prayer," came and knelt down 
 in the middle of the circle, and prayed with us. She had 
 asked for the gas to be extinguished first, and as she 
 prayed she became illuminated with flashes of light, in the 
 shape of stars and crosses, until she was visible from head 
 to foot, and we could see her features and dress as if she 
 had been surrounded by electricity. 
 
 Two more cabinet spirits were a negro and negress, who 
 appeared together, chanting some of their native hymns 
 and melodies. When I saw these apparitions, I thought 
 to myself: "Here is a good opportunity to discover 
 trickery, if trickery there is." The pair were undoubtedly 
 of the negro race. There was no mistaking their thick 
 lips and noses and yellow-white eyes, nor their polished 
 brown skins, which no charcoal can properly imitate. They 
 were negroes without doubt ; but how about the negro 
 bouquet? Everyone who has mixed with colored people 
 in the East or the West knows what that is, though it is 
 very diflicult to describe, being something like warm 
 rancid oil mingled with the fumes of charcoal, with a little 
 worse thrown in. " Now," I thought, '* if these forms are 
 human, there will be some odor attached to them, and that 
 I am determined to find out." I caught, therefore, at the 
 dress of the young woman as she passed, and asked her if 
 she would kiss me. She left her companion directly, and 
 put her arms (which were bare) round my neck, and em- 
 
2i6 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 braced me several times ; and I can declare, on my oath, 
 that she was as completely free from anything like the 
 smell of a colored woman as it was possible for her to be. 
 She felt as fresh and sweet and pure as a little child. 
 
 Many other forms appeared and were recognized by the 
 circle, notably a very handsome one who called herself the 
 Empress Josephine ; but as they could not add a grain's 
 weight to my testimony I pass them over. I had begun to 
 think that " Florence " was not going to visit me that 
 evening, when the conductor of the seance asked if there 
 was anybody in the room who answered to the name of 
 "Bluebell." I must indulge in a little retrospect here, and 
 tell my readers that ten years previous to the time I am 
 writing of, I had lost my brother-in-law, Edward Church, 
 under very painful circumstances. He had been left an 
 orphan and in control of his fortune at a very early age, 
 and had lived with my husband, Colonel Ross-Church, and 
 myself. But poor " Ted " had been his own worst enemy. 
 He had possessed a most generous heart and affectionate 
 disposition, but these had led him into extravagances that 
 swallowed up his fortune, and then he had taken to drink- 
 ing and killed himself by it. I and my children had loved 
 him dearly, but all our prayers and entreaties had had no 
 avail, and in the end he had become so bad that the doc- 
 tors had insisted upon our separation. Poor "Ted " had 
 consequently died in exile, and this had been a further 
 aggravation of our grief. For ten years I had been trying 
 to procure communication with him in vain, and I liad 
 quite given up expecting to see him again. Only once had 
 I heard " Bluebell " (his pet name for me) gasped out by 
 an entranced clairvoyant, but nothing further had come of 
 it. Now, as I heard it for the second time, from a stran- 
 ger's lips in a foreign country, it naturally roused my 
 expectations, but I thought it might be only a message for 
 me from " Ted." 
 
 " Is there anyone here who recognizes the name of 
 ' Bluebell ' ? " repeated the conductor. " I was once called 
 so by a friend," I said. " Someone is asking for that name. 
 You had better come up to the cabinet," she replied. I 
 rose at once and did as she told me, but when I reached 
 the curtain I encountered ^' Florence." " My darling child," 
 I said, as I embraced her, " why did you ask for ' Blue- 
 bell ' ? " She did not answer me, except by shaking her 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 217 
 
 head, placing her finger on her lips, and pointing down- 
 wards to the carpet. I did not know what to make of it. 
 I had never known her unable to articulate before. " What 
 is the matter, dear ? " I said ; " can't you speak to me to- 
 night?" Still sl>e shook her head, and tapped my arm 
 with her hand, to attract my attention to the fact that she 
 was pointing vigorously downwards. I looked down, too, 
 when, to my astonishment, I saw rise through the carpet 
 what looked to me like the bald head of a baby or an old 
 man, and a little figure, not tnore than three feet in height, 
 with Edward Church's features, but no hair on its head, 
 came gradually into view, and looked up in my face with a 
 pitiful, deprecating expression, as if he were afraid I should 
 strike him. The face, however, was so unmistakably 
 Ted's, though the figure was so ludicrously insignificant, 
 that I could not fail to recognize him. " Why, Ted ! " I 
 exclaimed, "have you come back to see me at last ? " and 
 held out my hand. The little figure seized it, tried to 
 convey it to his lips, burst into tears, and sank down 
 through the carpet much more rapidly than he had come 
 up. 
 
 I began to cry too. It was so pitiful. With her uncle's 
 disappearance " Florence " found her tongue. " Don't cry, 
 mother," she said ; " poor Uncle Ted is overcome at see- 
 ing you. That's why he couldn't materialize better. He 
 was in such a terrible hurry. He'll look more like himself 
 next time. I was trying so hard to help him, I didn't dare 
 to use up any of the power by speaking. He'll be so much 
 better, now he's seen you. You'll come here again, won't 
 you? " I told her I certainly would, if I could ; and, in- 
 deed, I was all anxiety to see my poor brother-in-law 
 again. To prove how difficult it would have been to de- 
 ceive me on this subject, I should like to say a little about 
 Edward Church's personal appearance. He was a very 
 remarkable looking man — indeed, I have never seen any- 
 one z bit like him before or after. He was very small ; 
 not short only, but small altogether, with tiny hands and 
 feet, and a little head. His hair and eyes were of the 
 deepest black — the former parted in the middle, with a 
 curl on either side, and was naturally waved. His com- 
 plexion was very dark, his features delicate, and he wore 
 a small pointed moustache. As a child he had suffered 
 from an attack of confluent small-pox. which had deepiy 
 
ai8 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 pitted his face, and almost eaten away the tip of his nose. 
 Such a man was not to be easily imitated, even if anyone 
 in Boston had ever heard of his inconsequential existence. 
 To me, though, he had been a dear friend and brother, 
 before the curse of Drink had seemed to change his nature, 
 and I had always been anxious to hear how he fared in 
 that strange country whither he had been forced to jour- 
 ney, like all of us, alone. I was very pleased then to find 
 that business would not interfere with my second visit to 
 Mrs. Eva Hatch, which took place two nights afterward. 
 On this occasion " Florence " was one of the first to 
 appear, and " Ted " came with her, rather weak and 
 trembling on his second introduction to this mundane 
 sphere, but no longer bald-headed nor under-sized. He 
 was his full height now, about five feet seven ; his head 
 was covered with his black crisp hair, parted just as he 
 used to wear it while on earth j in every particular he 
 resembled what he used to be, even down to his clothes. 
 I could have sworn I had seen that very suit of clothes ; 
 the little cut-away coat he always wore, with the natty tie 
 and collar, and a dark blue velvet smoking cap upon his 
 head, exactly like one I remembered being in his posses- 
 sion. " Florence " still seemed to be acting as his inter- 
 preter and guide. When I said to him, " Why ! Ted, you 
 look quite like your old self to-day," she answered, " He 
 can't talk to you, mamma, he is weak still, and he is so 
 thankful to meet you again. He wants me to tell you that 
 he has been trying to communicate with you often, but he 
 never could manage it in England. He will be so glad 
 when he can talk freely to you." Whilst she was speak- 
 ing, " Ted " kept on looking from her to me like a deaf 
 and dumb animal trying to understand what was going on 
 in a manner that was truly pitiful. I stooped down and 
 kissed his forehead. The touch seemed to break the spell 
 that hung over him. " Forgive,'' he uttered in a choked 
 voice. " There is nothing to forgive, dear," I replied, 
 " except as we all have need to forgive each other. You 
 know how we all loved you, Ted, and we loved you to the 
 last and grieved for you deeply. You remember the child- 
 ren, and how fond you were of them and they of you. 
 They often speak to this day of their poor Uncle Ted." 
 " Eva — Ethel," he gasped out, naming my two elder 
 children. At this juncture he seemed suddenly to fail, 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 219 
 
 and became so weak that " Florence " took him back into 
 the cabinet again. No more spirits came for me that 
 evening, but towards the close of the seance " Florence " 
 and " Ted "' appeared again together and embraced me 
 fondly. " Florence " said, " He's so happy now, mother ; 
 he says he shall rest in peace now that he knows that you 
 have forgiven him. And he won't come without his hair 
 again," she added, laughing. " I hope he won't," I an- 
 swered, " for he frightened me." And then they both 
 kissed me " good-night," and retreated to the cabinet, and 
 I looked after them longingly and wished I could go there 
 too. 
 
220 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 III. The Misses Berry. 
 
 No one introduced me to the Misses Berry. I saw their 
 advertisement in the public papers and went incognita to 
 their seance, as I had done to those of others. The first 
 thing that struck me about them was the superior class of 
 patrons whom they drew. In the ladies' cloak room, where 
 they left their heavy wraps and umbrellas, the conversation 
 that took place made this sufficiently evident. Helen and 
 Gertrude Berry were ])relty, unaffected, lady-like girls ; and 
 their conductor, Mr. Abrow, one of the most courteous 
 gentlemen I have ever met. The sisters, both highly 
 mediumistic, never sat together, but on alternate nights, but 
 the one who did not sit always took a place in the audience, 
 in order to prevent suspicion attaching to her absence. 
 Gertrude Berry had been lately married to a Mr. Thompson, 
 and on account of her health gave up her seances, soon after 
 I made her aquaintance. She was a tall, finely-formed 
 young woman, with golden hair and a beautiful complexion. 
 Her sister Helen was smaller, paler and more slightly 
 built. She had been engaged to be married to a gentleman 
 who died shortly before the time fixed for their wedding, 
 and his spirit, whom she called " Charley," was the principal 
 control at her seatices, though he never showed himself. I 
 found the stance room, which was not very large, crammed 
 with chairs which had all been engaged beforehand, so Mr. 
 Abrow fetched one from downstairs and placed it next his 
 own for me, which was the very position I should have 
 chosen. I asked him afterwards how he dared admit a 
 stranger to such close proximity, and he replied that he was 
 a medium himself and knew who he could and who he 
 could not trust at a glance. As my professional duties 
 took me backwards and forwards to Boston, which was my 
 central starting-point, sometimes giving me only a day's 
 rest there, I was in the habit afterwards, when I found I 
 should have " a night off," of wiring to Mr. Abrow to keep 
 
7 HERE IS NO DEATH. 221 
 
 me a seat, so difficult was it to secure one unless it were 
 bespoken. Altogether I sat five or six times with the 
 Berry sisters, and wished I could have sat fifty or sixty 
 times instead, for I never enjoyed any seances so much in 
 my life before. The cabinet was formed of an inner room 
 with a separate door, which had to undergo the process of 
 being sealed up by a committee of strangers every evening. 
 Strips of gummed paper were provided for them, on which 
 they wrote their names before affixing them across the inside 
 opening of the door. On the first night I inspected the 
 cabinet also as a matter of principle, and gummed my paper 
 with " Mrs. Richardson " written on it across the door. The 
 cabinet contained only a sofa for Miss Helen Berry to 
 recline upon. The floor was covered with a nailed-down 
 carpet. The door which led into the cabinet was shaded 
 by two dark curtains hung with rings upon a brass rod. 
 The door of the seatice room was situated at a right angle 
 with that of the cabinet, both opening upon a square land- 
 ing, and, to make " assurance doubly sure," the door of 
 ih& seance room was left open, so that the eyes of the sitters 
 at that end commanded a view, during the entire sitting, 
 of the outside of the locked and gummed-over cabinet door. 
 To make this fully understood, I append a diagram of the 
 two rooms — 
 
 Landing. 
 
 Cabinet. 
 
 1 1 
 
 
 Stance room. 
 
 By the position of these doors, it will be seen how im- 
 possible it would have been for anybody to leave or enter 
 the cabinet without being detected by the sitters, who had 
 their faces turned towards the seance room door. The first 
 
322 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 materialization that appeared that evening was a bride, 
 dressed in her bridal costume ; and a gentleman, who was 
 occupying a chair in the front row, and holding a white 
 flower in his hand, immediately rose, went up to her, em- 
 braced her, and whispered a few words, then gave her the 
 white flower, which she fastened in the bosom of her dress, 
 after which he bowed slightly to the company, and, instead 
 of resuming his seat, left the room. Mr. Abrow then said 
 to me, "If you like, madam, you can take that seat now," 
 and as the scene had excited my curiosity I accepted his 
 offer, hoping to find some one to tell me the meaning of it. 
 I found myself next to a very sweet-looking lady, whom I 
 afterwards knew personally as Mrs. Seymour. "Can you 
 tell me why that gentleman left so suddenly ? " I asked her 
 in a whisper. " He seldom stays through a seance" she re- 
 plied ; "he is a business man, and has no time to spare, 
 but he is here every night. The lady you saw him speak to 
 is his wife. She died on her wedding day, eleven years ago, 
 and he has never failed to meet her on every opportunity 
 since. He brings her a white flower every time he comes. 
 She appears always first, in order that he may be able to 
 return to his work." This story struck me as very 
 interesting, and I always watched for this gentleman after- 
 wards, and never failed to see him waiting for his bride, 
 with the white flower in his hand. " Do you expect to see 
 any friends to-night?" I said to my new acquaintance. 
 " O ! yes ! " she replied. " I have come to see my daughter 
 * Bell.' She died some years ago, and I am bringing up the 
 two little children she left behind her. I never do anything 
 for them without consulting their mother. Just now I 
 have to change their nurse, and I have received several 
 excellent characters of others, and I have brought them 
 here this evening that 'Bell' may tell me which to write 
 for. I have the pattern for the children's winter frocks, 
 too," she continued, producing some squares of woolen 
 cloths, " and I always like to let ' Bell ' choose which she 
 likes best." This will give my readers some idea of how 
 much more the American spiritualists regard their departed 
 friends as still forming part of the home circle, and inter- 
 ested in their domestic affairs. " Bell " soon after made her 
 appearance, and Mrs. Seymour brought her up to me. She 
 was a young woman of about three or four and twenty, 
 and looked very happy and smiling. She perused the 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 223 
 
 servants' characters as practically as her mother might have 
 done, but said she would have none of them, and Mrs. 
 Seymour was to wait till she received some more. The 
 right one had not come yet. She also looked at the 
 patterns, and indicated the one she liked best. Then, 
 as she was about to retire, she whispered to her mother, 
 and Mrs. Seymour said, to my surprise (for it must be 
 remembered I had not disclosed my name to her), 
 " Bell tells me she knows a daughter of yours in the spirit 
 life, called ' Florence.' Is that the case ? " I answered 
 I had a daughter of that name ; and Mrs. Seymour added 
 " ' Bell ' says she will be here this evening, that she is a very 
 pure and very elevated spirit, and they are great friends." 
 Very shortly after this, Mr. Abrow remarked, " There is a 
 young girl in the cabinet now, who says that if her 
 mother's name is ' Mrs. Richardson,' she must have married 
 for the third time since she saw her last, for she was * Mrs. 
 Lean' then." At this remark I laughed ; and Mr. Abrow 
 said, "Is she come for you, madam? Does the cap fit? " 
 I was obliged to acknowledge then that I had given a false 
 name in order to avoid recognition. But the mention of 
 my married name attracted no attention to me, and was 
 only a proof that it had not been given from any previous 
 knowledge of Mr. Abrow's concerning myself. I was 
 known in the United States as " Florence Marryat " only, 
 and to this day they believe me to be still " Mrs. Ross- 
 Church," that being the name under which my first novels 
 were written. So I recognized " Florence " at once in the 
 trick that had been played me, and had risen to approach 
 the curtain, when she came boufiding out and ran into my 
 arms. I don't think I had ever seen her look so charming 
 and girlish before. She looked like an embodiment of 
 sunshine. She was dressed in a low frock which seemed 
 manufactured of lace and muslin, her hair fell loose down 
 her back to her knees, and her hands were full of damask 
 roses. This was in December, when hot-house roses were 
 selling for a dollar a piece in Boston, and she held, perhaps, 
 twenty. Their scent was delicious, and she kept thrusting 
 them under my nose, saying, " Smell my roses, mother. 
 Don't you wish you had my garden? We ha.ve ^e/ds of 
 them in the Summer Land ! O ! how I wish you were 
 there." " Shan't I come soon, darling? "I said. "No! 
 not yet," replied " Florence." " You have a lot of work to 
 
224 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 do still. But when you come, it will be all flowers for you 
 and me." I asked her if she knew *' Bell," and she said, 
 "O ! yes ! We came together this evening." Then I asked 
 her to come and speak to " Bell's " mother, and her 
 manner changed at once. She became shy and timid, like 
 a young girl, unused to strangers, and quite hung on my 
 arm, as I took her up to Mrs. Seymour's side. When she 
 had spoken a i&\i words to her in a very low voice, she 
 turned to me and said, " I must go now, because we have a 
 great surprise for you this evening — a very great surprise." 
 I told her I liked great surprises, when they were pleasant 
 ones, and " Florence" laughed, and went away. I found 
 that her debut had created such a sensation amongst the 
 sitters — it being so unusual for a materialized spirit to 
 appear so strong and perfect on the first occasion of using 
 a medium — that I felt compelled to give them a little 
 explanation on the subject. And when I told them how 
 I had lost her as a tiny infant of ten days old — how she 
 had returned to me through various media in England, 
 and given such unmistakable proofs of her idejitity — and 
 how I, being a stranger in their country, and only landed 
 there a few weeks, had already met her through Mrs. 
 Williams, Mrs. Hatch and Miss Berry — they said it was 
 one of the most wonderful and perfect instances of 
 materiaUzation they had ever heard of. And when one 
 considers how perfect the chain is, from the time when 
 " Florence " first came back to me as a child, too weak to 
 speak, or even to understand where she was, to the years 
 through which she had grown and became strong almost 
 beneath my eyes, till she could ^^ bound'' (as I have 
 narrated) into my arms like a human being, and talk as 
 distinctly as (and far more sensible than) I did myself, I 
 think my readers will acknowledge also, that hers is no 
 common story, and that I have some reason to believe in 
 Spiritualism. 
 
 Miss Berry's cabinet spirits were quite different from 
 the common type. One was, or rather had been, a 
 dancing girl — not European, but rather more, I fancy, of 
 the Asiatic or Egyptian type. Anyway she used to come 
 out of the cabinet — a lithe lissom creature like a panther 
 or a snake — and execute such twists and bounds and 
 pirouettes, as would have made her fortune on the 
 stage. Indeed I used to think (being always on the look- 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 225 
 
 out for chicanery) that no huvian creature who could 
 dance as she did would ever waste her talents, especially 
 in a smart country like America, on an audience of spirit- 
 ualists, whose only motive for meeting was to see their 
 friends, and who would not pay an extra cent to look at a 
 " cabinet spirit." Another one was an Indian whom they 
 called " The Brave." He was also a lithe, active creature, 
 without an ounce of superfluous flesh upon his body, but 
 plenty of muscle. He appeared to like the ladies of the 
 company very much, but evidently distrusted the men. 
 One stout, big man who was, I fancy, a bit of a sceptic, 
 wished to test the " Brave's" muscular power by feeling 
 his biceps, and was invited to step in front of the circle for 
 that purpose. He had no sooner approached him than 
 the Indian seized him up in his arms and threw him right 
 over his head. He did not hurt him, but as the gentleman 
 got up again, he said, " Well 1 I weigh 200 pounds, and I 
 didn't think any man in the room could have done that." 
 The ladies in the circle mostly wore flowers in their bosom 
 —bouquets, after the custom of American ladies — and they 
 began, one and all, to detach flowers from their bouquets 
 and give them to the " Brave," " to give to his squaw." He 
 nodded and gabbled some unintelligible Sioux or Cherokee 
 in reply, and went all round the circle on his knees. The 
 stout man had surmised that he was painted, and his long, 
 straight, black hair was a wig. When he came to me I said, 
 " Brave ! may I try if your hair is a wig ? " He nodded 
 and said, ** Pull — pull ! " which I did, and found that it 
 undoubtedly grew on his head. Then he took my finger 
 and drew it across his face several times to show he was 
 not painted. I had no flowers to present him with, so I 
 said, " Come here, Brave, and I'll give you something for 
 your squaw," and when he approached near enough I 
 kissed him. He chuckled, and his eyes sparkled with 
 mischief as he ran chatting in his native dialect behind the 
 curtains. In another minute he dashed out again, and 
 coming up to me ejaculated, " No — give — squaw ! " and 
 rushed back, Mr. Abrow laughed heartily at this incident, 
 and so did all the sitters, the former declaring I had 
 entirely captivated the " Brave." Presently the cabinet 
 curtains were shaken, and after a pause they parted slowly, 
 and the figure of an Indian squaw crept out. Anything 
 more malignant and vicious than her look I have seldom 
 
 15 
 
i26 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 seen, Mr. Abrow asked her who she wanted and what 
 she wanted, but she would not speak. She stood there 
 silent, but scowling at me from beneath the tangles of her 
 long black hair. At last Mr. Abrow said to her, " If you 
 don't want to speak to anyone in the circle you must go 
 away, as you are only preventing other spirits from 
 coming." The squaw backed behind the curtains again 
 rather sulkily, but the next time the " Brave " appeared she 
 came with him, and never did he come again in my 
 presence but what his "squaw" stood at the curtains 
 and watched his actions. Mrs. Abrow told me that the 
 "Brave" had been in the habit of manifesting at their 
 seatices for years, but that they had never seen the " squaw " 
 until that evening. Indeed, I don't think they were very 
 grateful to me for having by my rashness eliminated 
 this new feature in their evening's entertainment, for 
 the " squaw " proved to be a very earthly and undeveloped 
 spirit, and subsequently gave them some trouble, as they 
 could not drive her away when they wanted to do so. 
 Tovvards the close of the evening Mr. Abrow said, " There 
 is a spirit here now who is very anxious to show himself, 
 but it is the first time he has ever attempted to fully 
 materialize, and he is not at all certain of success. He 
 tells me there is a lady in the circle who has newly arrived 
 in America, and that this lady years ago sang a song by 
 his dying bed in India. If she will step up to the cabinet 
 now and sing that song again he will try and shew himself 
 to her." 
 
 Such of my readers as have perused "The story of John 
 Powles " will recognize at once who this was. I did, of 
 course, and I confess that as I rose to approach the cabinet 
 I trembled like an aspen leaf. I had tried so often, and 
 failed so often to see this dear old friend of mine, ihat to 
 think of meeting him now was like a veritable resurrection 
 from the dead. Think of it ! We had parted in i860, 
 and this was 1884 — twenty-four years afterwards. I had 
 been a girl when we said " Good-bye," and he went forth 
 on that journey which seemed then so mysterious an one to 
 me. I was a middle-aged woman now, who had passed 
 through so much from which he had been saved, that I felt 
 more like his mother than his friend. Of all my expe- 
 riences this was to me really the most solemn and interest- 
 ing. I hardly expected to see more than his face, but I 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 227 
 
 walked up to the cabinet and commenced to sing in a very 
 shaky voice the first stanza of the old song he was so fond 
 of :— 
 
 " Thou art gone from my gaze like a beautiful dream, 
 And I seek thee in vain by the meadow and stream ; 
 Oft I breathe thy dear name to the winds passing by, 
 But thy sweet voice is mute to my bosom's lone sigh. 
 In the stillness of night when the stars mildly shine, 
 O ! then oft my heart holds communion with thine. 
 For I feel thou art near, and where'er I may be. 
 That the Spirit of Love keeps a watch over me." 
 
 I had scarcely reached the finishof these lines when both 
 the curtains of the cabinet were drawn apart so sharply that 
 the brass rings rattled on the rod, and John Powles stood 
 before me. Not a face, nor a half-formed figure, nor an 
 apparition that was afraid to pass into the light — \>\x\.John 
 Powles himself, stalwart and living, who stepped out 
 briskly and took me in his arms and kissed me four or five 
 times, as a long-parted brother might have done ; and 
 strange to say, I didn't feel the least surprised at it, but 
 clung to him like a sister. For John Powles had never 
 once kissed me during his lifetime. Although we had lived 
 for four years in the closest intimacy, often under the same 
 roof, we had never indulged in any familiarities. I think 
 men and women were not so lax in their manners then as 
 they are now ; at anyrate, the only time I had ever kissed 
 him was when he lay dead, and my husband had told me 
 to do so. And yet it seemed quite natural on meeting him 
 again to kiss him and cry over him. At last I ventured 
 to say, " O, Powles ! is this really you ? " " Look at me 
 and see for yourself," he answered. 1 looked up. It was 
 indeed himself He had possessed very blue eyes in earth 
 life, good features, a florid complexion, auburn hair, and 
 quite a golden beard and moustache. The eyes and hair 
 and features were just the same, only his complexion was 
 paler, and he wore no beard. " O ! " I exclaimed, "where 
 is your beard ? " "Don't you remember I cut it off just 
 before I left this world ? " he said ; and then I recalled 
 the fact that he had done so owing to a Government order 
 on the subject. 
 
 And bearing on this question I may mention what seems 
 a curious thing — that spirits almost invariably return to 
 
228 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 earth the first timey/^j/ as they lcftil^z.% though their 
 thoughts at the moment of parting clothed them on their 
 return. This, however, was not John Powles' first attempt 
 at materialization, although it was his first success, for it 
 may be remembered he tried to show himself through Miss 
 Showers, and then he had a beard. However, when I saw 
 him through Miss Berry, he had none, nor did he resume 
 it during my stay in America. When we had got over the 
 excitement of meeting, he began to speak to me of my 
 children, especially of the three who were born before his 
 death, and of whom he had been very fond. He spoke of 
 them all by name, and seemed quite interested in their 
 prospects and affairs. But when I began to speak of other 
 things he stopped me. " I know it all," he said, " I have 
 been with you in spirit through all your trials, and I can 
 never feel the slightest interest in, or affection for, those 
 who caused them. My poor friend, you have indeed had 
 your purgatory upon earth." " But tell me of yourself, 
 dear Powles ! Are you quite happy ? " I asked him. He 
 paused a moment and then replied, " Quite happy, waiting 
 for you." " Surely you are not suffering still ? " I said, 
 " after all these years ? " " My dear Florence," he answered, 
 " it takes more than a few years to expiate a life of sin. 
 But I am happier than I was, and every year the burden 
 is lighter, and coming back to you will help me so much." 
 As he was speaking to me the curtain opened again, 
 and there stood my brother-in-law, Edward Church, not 
 looking down-spirited and miserable, as he had done at 
 Mrs. Eva Hatch's, but bright and smiling, and dressed in 
 evening clothes, as also I perceived, when I had time to 
 think of it, was John Powles. I didn't know which to talk 
 to first, but kept turning from one to the other in a dazed 
 manner. John Powles was telling me that he was pre- 
 paring my house for me in the Summer Land, and would 
 come to take me over to it when I died, when "Ted" 
 interrupted him. " That ought to have been 7ny work, Blue- 
 bell," he said, " only Powles had anticipated me." " I wish 
 I could go back with you both at once, I am sick of this 
 world," I replied. "Ted" threw his arms round me and 
 strained me to his breast. " O ! it is so hard to part again. 
 How I wish I could carry you away in my arms to the 
 Summer Land ! I should have nothing left to wish for 
 then." " You don't want to come back then, Ted ? " I 
 
THERE IS XO DEATH. 229 
 
 asked him. '' Want to come back,'' he said with a shudder ; 
 " not for anything ! Why, Bluebell, death is like an oper- 
 ation which you must inevitably undergo, but which you 
 fear because you know so little about it. Well, with me 
 the operation s over. I know the worst, and every day 
 makes the term of punishment shorter. I am thankful I 
 left the earth so soon." " You look just like your old self, 
 Ted," I said ; " the same little curls and scrubby little 
 moustache." "Pull them," he answered gaily. " Don't go 
 away, Bluebell, and say they were false and I was Miss 
 Berry dressed up. Feel my biceps," he continued, throw- 
 ing up his arm as men do, " and feel my heart," placing 
 my hand above it, " feel how it is beatiiig for my sister 
 Bluebell." 
 
 I said to John Powles, "I hardly know you in evening 
 costume. I never saw you in it before " (which was true, 
 as all our acquaintance had taken place in India, where 
 the officers are never allowed to appear in anything but 
 uniform, especially in the evenings). " I wish," I continued, 
 " that you would come next time in uniform." " I will try," 
 he replied, and then their time was up for that occasion, 
 and they were obliged to go. 
 
 A comical thing occurred on my second visit to the 
 Berrys. Of course I was all eagerness to see my brother- 
 in-law and " Powles " again, and when I was called up to 
 the cabinet and saw a slim, dark, young man standing there, 
 I took him at once for " Ted," and, without looking at him, 
 was just about to kiss him, when he drew backwards and 
 said, " I am not * Edward 1' I am his friend ' Joseph,' to 
 whom he has given permission to make your acquaintance." 
 I then perceived that " Joseph " was very different from 
 " Ted," taller and better looking, with a Jewish cast of 
 countenance. I stammered and apologized, and felt as 
 awkward as if I had nearly kissed a mortal man by mis- 
 take. "Joseph " smiled as if it were of very little con- 
 sequence. He said he had never met " Ted " on earth, 
 but they were close friends in the spirit world, and " Ted " 
 had talked so much to him of me, that he had become very 
 anxious to see me, and speak to me. He was a very 
 elegant looking young man, but he did not seem to have 
 very much to say for himself, and he gave me the im- 
 pression that he had been a "masher " whilst here below, 
 and had not quite shaken off the reraerabrance in the spirit 
 world. 
 
230 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 There was one spirit who often made her appearance at 
 these sittings and greatly interested me. This was a 
 mother with her infant of a few weeks old. The lady was 
 sweet and gentle looking, but it was the baby that so im- 
 pressed me — a baby that never whined nor squalled, nor 
 turned red in the face, and yet was made of neither wax 
 nor wood, but was palpably living and breathing. I used 
 always to go up to the cabinet when this spirit came, and 
 ask her to let me feel the little baby. It was a tiny crea- 
 ture, with a waxen-looking face, and she always carried it 
 enveloped in a full net veil, yet when I touched its hand, 
 the little fingers tightened round mine in baby fashion, as 
 it tried to convey them to its mouth. I had seen several 
 spirit children materialized before, but never such a young 
 infant as this. The mother told me she had passed away 
 in child-birth, and the baby had gone with her. She had 
 been a friend of the Misses Berry, and came to them for 
 that reason. 
 
 On Christmas Eve I happened to be in Boston, and 
 disengaged, and as I found it was a custom of the American 
 Spiritualists to hold meetings on that anniversary for 
 the purpose of seeing their spirit friends, I engaged a 
 seat for the occasion, I arrived some time before the 
 seance commenced, and next to me was seated a gentleman, 
 rather roughly dressed, who was eyeing everything about 
 him with the greatest attention. Presently he turned to 
 me and said, rather sheepishly, " Do you believe in this 
 sort of thing ? " "I do," I replied, " and I have believed 
 in it for the last fifteen years." " Have you ever seen any- 
 body whom you recognized ? " he continued. " Plenty," 
 I said. Then he edged a little nearer to me, and lowered his 
 voice. " Do you know," he commenced, "that I have ridden 
 on horseback forty miles through the snow to-day to be pre- 
 sent at this meeting, because my old mother sent me a 
 message that she would meet me here ! I don't believe in 
 it, you know. I've never been at a seance before, and I feel 
 as if I was making a great fool of myself now, but I couldn't 
 neglect my poor old mother's message, whatever came 
 of it." " Of course not," I answered, " and I hope your 
 trouble will be rewarded." I had not much faith in my 
 own words, though, because I had seen people dis- 
 appointed again and again over their first seance, from 
 either the spirits of their friends being too weak to material- 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 231 
 
 ize, or from too many trying to draw power at once, and 
 so neutralizing the effect on all. My bridegroom friend 
 was all ready on that occasion with his white flowers in 
 his hand and I ventured to address him and tell him how 
 very beautiful I considered his wife's fidelity and his own. 
 He seemed pleased at my notice, and began to talk quite 
 freely about her. He told me she had returned to him 
 before her body was buried, and had been with him ever 
 since. " She is so really and truly my wife,'' he said, "as 
 I received her at the altar, that I could no more marry 
 again than I could if she were living in my house." When 
 the seance commenced she appeared first as usual, and her 
 husband brought her up to my side. " This is Miss Florence 
 Marryat, dear," he said (for by this time I had laid aside 
 my incognita with the Berrys). " You know her name, 
 don't you ? " " O ! yes," she answered, as she gave me her 
 hand, " I know you quite well. I used to read your books." 
 Her face was covered with her bridal veil, and her husband 
 turned it back that I might see her. She was a very pretty 
 girl of perhaps twenty — quite a gipsy, with large dark eyes 
 and dark curling hair, and a brown complexion. " She has 
 not altered one bit since the day we were married," said 
 her husband, looking fondly at her, " whilst I have grown 
 into an old man." She put up her hand and stroked his 
 cheek. " We shall be young together some day," she said. 
 Then he asked her if she was not going to kiss me, and 
 she held up her face to mine like a child, and he dropped 
 the veil over her again and led her away. The very next 
 spirit that appeared was my rough friend's mother, and his 
 astonishment and emotion at seeing her were very unmis- 
 takeable. When first he went up to the cabinet and saw 
 her his head drooped, and his shoulders shook with the 
 sobs he could not repress. After a while he became calmer, 
 and talked to her, and then I saw him also bringing her up 
 to me. " I must bring my mother to you," he said, " that 
 you may see she has really come back to me." I rose, and 
 the old lady shook hands with me. She must have been, at 
 the least, seventy years old, and was a most perfect spe- 
 cimen of old age. Her face was like wax, and her hair like 
 silver ; but every wrinkle was distinct, and her hands were 
 lined with blue veins. She had lost her teeth, and mumbled 
 somewhat in speaking, and her son said, "She is afraid 
 you will not understand what she says ; but she wants you 
 
232 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 to know that she will be quite happy if her return will 
 make nie believe in a futureexister.ee." "And will it?" 
 I asked. He looked at his mother. " I don't understand 
 it," he replied. "It seems too marvellous to be true ; but 
 how can I disbelieve it, when //^;-<? 5//^ is V And his words 
 were so much the echo of my own grounds for belief, that 
 I quite sympathized with them. "John Powles," and 
 " Ted," and " Florence," all came to see me that evening ; 
 and when I bid " Florence " " good-bye " she said, " Oh, it 
 isn't * good-bye ' yet, mother ! I'm coming again, before 
 you go." Presently something that was the very farthest 
 thing from my mind — that had, indeed, never entered it — 
 happened to me. I was told that a young lady wanted to 
 speak to me, and on going up to the cabinet I recognized 
 a girl whom I knew by sight, but had never spoken to — one 
 of a large family of children, living in the same terrace in 
 London as myself, and who had died of malignant scarlet 
 fever about a year before. " Mrs. Lean," she said, hurriedly, 
 
 noting my surprise, " don't you know me? I am May ." 
 
 " Yes, I do recognize you, my dear child," I replied ; " but 
 what makes you come to me ? " " Minnie and Katie are 
 so unhappy about me," she said. " They do not under- 
 stand. They think I have gone away. They do not know 
 what death is — that it is only like going into the next room, 
 and shutting the door." " And what can I do, May ? " I 
 asked her. "Tell them you have seen me, Mrs. Lean. Say 
 I am alive — more alive than they are ; that if they sit for 
 me, I will come to them and tell them so much they know 
 nothing of now." '' But where are your sisters ? " I said. 
 She looked puzzled. " I don't know. I can't say the place ; 
 but you will meet them soon, and you will tell them." " If 
 I meet them, I certainly will tell them," I said ; but I had 
 not the least idea at that moment where the other girls 
 might be. Four months later, however, when I was stay- 
 ing in London, Ontario, they burst unexpectedly into my 
 hotel room, having driven over (I forget how many miles) 
 to see me play. Naturally I kept my promise ; but though 
 they cried when " May " was alluded to, they evidently 
 could not believe my story of having seen her, and so, I 
 suppose, the poor little girl's wish remains ungratified. I 
 think the worst purgatory in the next world must be to find 
 how comfortably our friends get on without us in this. As 
 a rule, I did not fake much interest in the spirits that did 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 233 
 
 not come for me ; but there was one who appeared several 
 times with the Berrys, and seemed quite like an old friend 
 to me. This was " John Brown," not her Majesty's " John 
 Brown," but the hero of the song — 
 
 " Hang John Brown on a sour apple tree. 
 But his soul goes touting around. 
 Glory I glory I Halleluia I 
 For his soul goes touting around." 
 
 When I used to hear this song sung with much shouting 
 and some profanity in England, I imagined (and I fancy 
 most people did) that it was a comic song in America. But 
 it was no such thing. It was a patriotic song, and the 
 motive is (however comically put) to give glory to God, 
 \.\\a.\., although they may hang " John Brown " on a sour 
 apple tree, his soul will yet "go touting around." So, rightly 
 or wrongly, it was explained to me. "John Brown" is a 
 patriotic hero in America, and when he appeared, the whole 
 room crowded round to see him. He was a short man, 
 with a singularly benevolent countenance, iron grey hair, 
 mutton-chop whiskers, and deep china blue eyes. A kind 
 of man, as he appeared to me, made for deeds of love 
 rather than heroism, but from all accounts he was both 
 kind and heroic. A gentleman present on Christmas eve 
 pushed forward eagerly to see the materialization, and 
 called out, " Aye ! that's him — that's my old friend — that's 
 'John Brown' — the best man that ever trod this earth." 
 Before this evening's seance was concluded Mr. Abrow said, 
 " There is a little lady in the cabinet at present who an- 
 nounces herself as a very high personage. She says she is 
 the ' Princess Gertrude.' " " What did you say, Mr. 
 Abrow ? " I exclaimed, unable to believe my own ears. 
 " * The Princess Gertie,' mother," said " Florence," popping 
 her head out of the curtains. " You've met her before in 
 England, you know." I went up to the cabinet, the cur- 
 tains divided, there stood my daughter " Florence " as 
 usual, but holding in front of her a little child of about 
 seven years old. I knelt down before this spirit of my own 
 creation. She was a fragile-looking little creature, very 
 fair and pale, with large grey eyes and brown hair lying 
 over her forehead. She looked like a lily with her little 
 white hands folded meekly in front of her. " Are you my 
 
234 THERE IS NO DEATH.\ 
 
 little Gertie, darling ? " I said. " I am the ' Princess 
 Gertie,' " she replied, " and ' Florence ' says you are my 
 mother." "And are you glad to see me, Gertie ? " I asked. 
 She looked up at her sister, who immediately prompted 
 her. "Say, 'yes, mother,' Gertie." "Yes! mother," re- 
 peated the little one, like a parrot, " Will you come to me, 
 darling ? " I said. " May I take you in my arms ? " " Not 
 this evening, mother," whispered ' Florence,' " you couldn't. 
 She is attached to me. We are tied together. You couldn't 
 separate us. Next time, perhaps, the ' Princess ' will be 
 stronger, and able to talk more. I will take her back 
 now." "But where is ' Yonnie ' ? " I asked, and '^ Flo- 
 rence " laughed. " Couldn't manage two of them at once," 
 she said. " ' Yonnie ' shall come another day,'' and 1 
 returned to my seat, more mystified than usual. 
 
 I alluded to the " Princess Gertie " in my account of the 
 inediumship of Bessie Fitzgerald, and said that my allusion 
 would find its signification further on. At that time I had 
 hardly beheved it could be true that the infants who had 
 been born prematurely and never breathed in this world 
 should be living, sentient spirits to meet me in the next, and 
 half thought some grown spirit must be tricking me for its 
 own pleasure. But here, in this strange land, where my 
 blighted babies had never been mentioned or thought of, 
 to meet the " Princess Gertie " here, calling herself by her 
 own name, and brought by her sister " Florence," set the 
 matter beyond a doubt. It recalled to my mind how once, 
 long before, when " Aimee " (Mr. Arthur Colman's guide), 
 on being questioned as to her occupation in the spirit 
 spheres, had said she was " a little nurse maid," and that 
 " Florence " was one too, my daughter had added, " Yes ! 
 I'm mamma's nurse maid. I have enough to do to look 
 after her babies. She just looked at me, and ' tossed ' me 
 back into the spirit world, and she's been ' tossing ' babies 
 after me ever since." 
 
 I had struck up a pleasant acquaintanceship with Mrs. 
 Seymour, " Bell's " mother, by that time, and when I 
 went back to my seat and told her what had occurred, 
 she said to me, " I wish you would share the expenses 
 of a private seance with me here. We can have one 
 all to ourselves for ten dollars ( two pounds ), and it 
 would be so charming to have an afternoon quite alone 
 with our children and friends," I agreed readily, and we 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 135 
 
 made arrangements with Mr. Abrow before we left that 
 evening, to have a private sitting on the afternoon follow- 
 ing Christmas Day, when no one was to be admitted 
 except our two selves. When we met there the seance 
 room was lighted with gas as for the evening, but we pre- 
 ferred to close the door. Helen Berry was the medium, 
 and Mr. Abrow only sat with us. The rows of chairs looked 
 very empty without any sitters, but we established our- 
 selves on those which faced the cabinet in the front row. 
 The first thing which happened was the advent of the 
 " Squaw," looking as malignant and vicious as ever, who 
 crept in in her dirty blanket, with her black hair hanging 
 over her face, and deliberately took a seat at the further 
 end of the room. Mr. Abrow was unmistakably annoyed 
 at the occurrence. He particularly disliked the influence 
 of this spirit, which he considered had a bad effect on ihe 
 seance. He first asked her why she had come, and told 
 her her " Brave " was not coming, and to go back to 
 him. Then he tried severity, and ordered her to leave the 
 seance, but it was all in vain. She kept her seat with per- 
 sistent obstinacy, and showed no signs of " budging." I 
 thought I would try what kindness would do for her, and ap- 
 proached her with that intention, but she looked so fierce 
 and threatening, that Mr. Abrow begged me not to go near 
 her, for fear she should do me some harm. So I left her 
 alone, and she kept her seat through the whole of the 
 seance^ evidently with an eye upon me, and distrusting my 
 behavior when removed from the criticism of the public. 
 Her presence, however, seemed to make no difference to 
 our spirit friends. They trooped out of the cabinet one 
 after another, until we had Mrs. Seymour's brother and her 
 daughter "Bell," v/ho brought little "Jimmie" (a little 
 son who had gone home before herself) with her, and 
 " Florence," " Ted," and " John Powles," all so happy and 
 strong and talkative, that I told Mrs. Seymour we only 
 wanted a tea-table to think we were holding an " At Home." 
 Last, but not least (at all events in her own estimation) 
 came the " Princess Gertie." Mr. Abrow tried to make 
 friends with her, but she repulsed his advances vehemently. 
 " I don't like you, Mr. Mans," she kept on saying, " you's 
 nasty. I don't like any mans. They's all nasty." When 
 I told her she was very rude, and Mr. Abrow was a very 
 kind gentleman and loved little children, she still persisted 
 
236 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 she wouldn't speak *' to no mans." She came quite alone 
 on this occasion, and I took her in my arms and carried 
 her across to Mrs. Seymour. She was a feather weight. I 
 felt as if I had nothing in my arms. I said to Mrs. Sey- 
 mour, " Please tell me what this child is like. I am so 
 afraid of my senses deceiving me that I cannot trust my- 
 self." Mrs. Seymour looked at her and answered, " She 
 has a broad forehead, with dark brown hair cut across it, 
 and falling straight to her shoulders on eitlier side. Her 
 eyes are a greyish blue, large and heavy lidded, her nose 
 is short, and her mouth decided for such a child." 
 
 This testimony, given by a stranger, of the apparition 
 of a child that had never lived, was an exact description 
 (of course in embryo) of her father, Colonel Lean, who 
 had never set foot in America. Perhaps this is as good a 
 proof of identity as I have given yet. Our private seance 
 lasted for two hours, and although the different spirits kept 
 on entering the cabinet at intervals to gain more power, 
 they were all with us on and off during the entire time. 
 The last pleasant thing I saw was my dear " Florence " mak- 
 ing the " Princess " kiss her hand in farewell to me, and the 
 only unpleasant one, the sight of the sulky " Squaw " 
 creeping in after them with the evident conviction that her 
 afternoon had been wasted. 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 237 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 IV. The Doctor, 
 
 I WONDER if it has struck any of my readers as strange 
 that, during all these manifestations in England and Amer- 
 ica, I had never seen the form, nor heard the voice, of my 
 late father. Captain Marryat. Surely if these various 
 media lived by trickery and falsehood, and wished suc- 
 cessfully to deceive me, some of them would have thought 
 of trying to represent a man so well known, and whose 
 appearance was so familiar. Other celebrated men and 
 women have come back and been recognized from their 
 portraits only, but, though I have sat at numbers of seafices 
 givQxxfor vie alone, and at which I have been the principal 
 person, my father has never reappeared at any. Especially, 
 if these manifestations are all fraud, might this have been 
 expected in America. Captain Marryat's name is still " a 
 household word " amongst the Americans^ and his works 
 largely read and appreciated, and wherever I appeared 
 amongst them I was cordially welcomed on that account. 
 When once I had acknowledged my identity and my views 
 on Spiritualism, every medium in Boston and New York had 
 ample time to get up an imitation of my father for my benefit 
 had they desired to do so. But never has he appeared to me ; 
 never have I been told that he was present. Twice only 
 in the whole course of my experience have I received the 
 slightest sign from him, and on those occasions he sent me 
 a message — once through Mr, Fletcher (as I have related), 
 and once through his grandson and my son, Frank Marryat. 
 That time he told me he should never appear to me and I 
 need never expect him. But since the American media 
 knew nothing of this strictly private communication, and 
 I had seen, before I parted with them, seventeen of my 
 friends and relations, none of whom (except " Florence," 
 " Powles," and " Emily,") I had ever seen in England, it 
 is at the least strange, considering his popularity (and 
 granted their chicanery) that Captain Marryat was not 
 aniongst them. 
 
238 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 As soon as I became known at the Berry's seances 
 several people introduced themselves to me, and amongst 
 others Mrs, Isabella Beecher Hooker, the sister of 
 Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe and Henry Ward Beecher. 
 She was delighted to find me so interested in Spirilualism, 
 and anxious I should sit with a friend of her's, a great 
 medium whose name became so rubbed out in my pencil 
 notes, that I am not sure if it was Doctor Carter, or Car- 
 teret, and therefore I shall speak of him here as simply 
 *' the doctor." The doctor was bound to start for Wash- 
 ington the following afternoon, so Mrs. Hooker asked me 
 to breakfast with her the next morning, by which time she 
 would have found out if he could spare us an hour before 
 he set out on his journey. When I arrived at her house I 
 heard that he had very obligingly offered to give me a 
 complimentary seance at eleven o'clock, so, as soon as we 
 had finished breakfast, we set out for his abode. I found 
 the doctor was quite a young man, and professed himself 
 perfectly ignorant on the subject of Spiritualism. He said 
 to me, " I don't know and I don't profess to know ^vhat or 
 who it is that appears to my sitters whilst I am asleep. I 
 know nothing of what goes on, except from hearsay. I 
 don't know whether the forms that appear are spirits, or 
 transformations, or materializations. You must judge of 
 that for yourself. There is one peculiarity in my seances. 
 They take place in utter darkness. When the apparitions 
 (or whatever you choose to call them) appear, they must 
 bring their own lights or you won't see them, I have no 
 conductor to my seances. If whatever comes can't 
 announce itself it must remain unknown. But I think you 
 will find that, as a rule, they can shift for themselves. This 
 is my siance room." 
 
 As he spoke he led us into an unfurnished bedroom, I 
 say bedroom, because it was provided with the dressing 
 closet fitted with pegs, usual to all bedrooms in America. 
 This closet the doctor used as his cabinet. The doot' was 
 left open, and there was no curtain hung before it. The 
 darkness he sat in rendered that unnecessary. The bed- 
 room was darkened by two frames, covered with black 
 American cloth, which fitted into the windows. The doc- 
 tor, having locked the bedroom door, delivered the key to 
 me. He then requested us to go and sit for a few minutes 
 in the cabinet to throw our influence about it. As we did 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 239 
 
 SO we naturally examined it. It was only a large cupboard. 
 It had no window and no door, except that which led into 
 the room, and no furniture except a cane-bottomed chair. 
 When we returned to the seance room, the doctor saw us 
 comfortably established on two armchairs before he put 
 up the black frames to exclude the light. The room was 
 then pitch dark, and the doctor had to grope his way to 
 his cabinet. Mrs. Hooker and I sat for some minutes in 
 silent expectation. Then- we heard the voice of a negress, 
 singing " darkey " songs, and my friend told me it was 
 that of " Rosa," the doctor's control. Presently " Rosa" 
 was heard to be expostulating with, or encouraging some 
 one, and faint lights, like sparks from a fire, could be 
 seen flitting about the open door of the cabinet. Then 
 the lights seemed to congregate together, and cluster 
 about a tall form, draped in some misty material, standing 
 just outside the cabinet. " Can't you tell us who you 
 are?" asked Mrs. Hooker, "You must tell your name, 
 you know," interposed " Rosa," whereupon a low voice 
 said, " I am Janet E, Powles." 
 
 Now this was an extraordinary coincidence. I had seen 
 Mrs. Powles, the mother of my friend " John Powles," 
 only once — when she travelled from Liverpool to London 
 to meet me on my return from India, and hear all the par- 
 ticulars of her son's death. But she had continued to 
 correspond with me, and show me kindness till the day of 
 her own death, and as she had a daughter of the same 
 name, she always signed herself "Janet E. Powles." Even 
 had I expected to see the old lady, and published the fact 
 in the Boston papers, that initial E would have settled the 
 question of her identity in my mind. 
 
 "Mrs. Powles," I exclaimed, "how good of you to 
 come and see me." '^ Johnny has helped me to come," 
 she replied. " He is so happy at having met you again. 
 He has been longing for it for so many years, and I have 
 come to thank you for making him happy." (Here was 
 another coincidence. " John Powles " was never called 
 anything but " Powles " by my husband and myself. But 
 his mother had retained the childish name of "Johnny," 
 and I could remember how it used to vex him when she 
 used it in her letters to him. He would say to me, 
 " If she would only call me ' John ' or * Jack,' or any- 
 thing but 'Johnny.'") I replied, " I may not leave my 
 
240 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 seat to go to you. Will you not come to me ? '* For the 
 doctor had requested us not to leave our seats, but to in- 
 sist on the spirits approaching us. " Mrs. Powles " said, 
 "I cannot come out further into the room to-day. I am 
 too weak. But you shall see me." The lights then ap- 
 peared to travel about her face and dress till they became 
 stationary, and she was completely revealed to view under 
 the semblance of her earthly likeness. She smiled and 
 said, " We were all at the Opera House on Thursday 
 night, and rejoiced at your success. ' Johnny ' was so 
 proud of you. Many of your friends were there beside 
 ourselves." 
 
 I then saw that, unlike the spirits at Miss Berry's, the 
 form of "Mrs. Powles" was draped in a kind of filmy 
 white, over a dark dress. All the spirits that appeared 
 with the doctor were so clothed, and I wondered if the 
 filmy substance had anything to do with the lights, which 
 looked like electricity. An incident which occurred 
 further on seemed to confirm my idea. When " Mrs. 
 Powles " had gone, which we guessed by the extinguishing 
 of the lights, the handsome face and form of " Harry 
 Montagu " appeared. I had known him well in England, 
 before he took his fatal journey to America, and could 
 never be mistaken in his sweet smile and fascinating 
 manner. He did not come further than the door, either, 
 but he was standing within twelve or fourteen feet of us 
 for all that. He only said, " Good-luck to you. We can't 
 lose an interest in the old profession, you know, any more 
 than in the old people." " I wish you'd come and help 
 me, Harry," I answered. " Oh, I do ! " he said, brightly ; 
 "several of us do. We are all links of the same chain. 
 Half the inspiration in the world comes from those who 
 have gone before. But I must go ! Pm getting crowded 
 out. Here's Ada waiting to see you. Good-bye ! " And 
 as his light went out, the sweet face of Adelaide Neilson 
 appeared in his stead. She said, " You wept when you 
 heard of my death; and yet you never knew me. How 
 was that? " " Did I weep ? " I answered, half forgetting ; 
 "if so, it must have been because I thought it so sad that 
 a woman so young, and beautiful, and gifted as you were, 
 should leave the world so soon.'' " Oh no ! not sad," she 
 answered, brightly ; " glorious ! glorious ! I would not be 
 back again for worlds." " Have you ever seen your 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 44! 
 
 grave ? " I asked her. She shook her head. " What are 
 graves to us ? Only cupboards, where you keep our cast- 
 off clothes." " You don't ask me what the world says 
 about you, now," I said to her. "And I don't care," she 
 answered. *' Don't you forget me ! Good-bye ! " 
 
 She was succeeded by a spirit who called herself 
 " Charlotte Cushman," and who spoke to me kindly about 
 my professional life. Mrs, Hooker told me that, to the 
 best of her knowledge, none of these three spirits had ever 
 appeared under the doctor's mediumship before. But now 
 came out " Florence," dancing into the room — literally 
 dancing, holding out in both hands the skirt of a dress, 
 which looked as if it were made of the finest muslin or 
 lace, and up and down which fireflys were darting with 
 marvellous rapidity. She looked as if clothed in electricity, 
 and infinitely well pleased with herself " Look ! " she 
 exclaimed; " look at my dress ! isn't it lovely? Look at 
 the fire ! The more I shake it, the more fire comes ! Oh, 
 mother ! if you could only have a dress like this for the 
 stage, what a sensation you would make ! " And she 
 shook her skirts about, till the fire seemed to set a light to 
 every part of her drapery, and she looked as if she were in 
 flames. I observed, " I never knew you to take so much 
 interest in your dress before, darling." " Oh, it isn't the 
 dress," she replied; "it's i\\tfire T' And she really ap- 
 peared as charmed with the novel experience as a child 
 with a new toy. 
 
 As she left us, a dark. figure advanced into the room, 
 and ejaculated, " Ma ! ma 1 " I recognized at once the 
 peculiar intonation and mode of address of my stepson, 
 Francis Lean, with whom, since he had announced his 
 own death to me, I had had no communication, except 
 through trance mediumship. " Is that you, my poor boy," 
 I said, " come closer to me. You are not afraid of me, 
 are you ? " *' O, no ! Ma 1 of course not, only I was at 
 the Opera House, you know, with the others, and that 
 piece you recited, Ma — you know the one — it's all true, 
 Ma — and I don't want you to go back to England. Stay 
 here. Ma — stay here ! " I knew perfectly well to what the 
 lad alluded, but I would not enter upon it before a stranger. 
 So I only said, " You forget my children, Francis — what 
 would they say if I never went home again." This seemed 
 to puzzle him, but after a while he answered, " Then go to 
 
 16 
 
2^i THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 them, Ma ; go to them." All this time he had been tallt^ 
 ing in the dark, and I only knew him by the sound of his 
 voice. I said, " Are you not going to show yourself to me, 
 Francis. It is such a long time since we met." " Never 
 since, you saw me at the docks. That was vie. Ma, and at 
 Brighton, too, only you didn't half believe it till you heard 
 I was gone." " Tell me the truth of the accident, Francis," 
 I asked him. "Was there foul play?" "No," he re- 
 plied, " but we got quarrelling about her you know, and 
 fighting, and that's how the boat upset. It was ttiy fault, 
 Ma, as much as anybody else's." 
 
 " How was it your body was never found ? " " It got 
 dragged down in an undercurrent, Ma. It was out at Cape 
 Horn before they offered a reward for it." Then he be- 
 gan to light up, and as soon as the figure was illuminated 
 I saw that the boy was dressed in "jumpers" and "jer- 
 sey " of dark woollen material, such as they wear in the 
 merchant service in hot climates, but over it all — his head 
 and shoulders included — was wound a quantity of flimsy 
 white material I have before mentioned. "I can't bear 
 this stuff. It makes me look like a girl," said " Francis," 
 and with his hands he tore it off. Simultaneously the 
 illumination ceased, and he was gone. I called him by 
 name several times, but no sound came out of the dark- 
 ness. It seemed as though the veiling which he disliked 
 preserved his materialization, and that, with its protection 
 removed, he had dissolved again. 
 
 When another dark figure came out of the cabinet, and 
 approaching me, knelt at my feet, I supposed it to be 
 " P'rancis " come back again, and laying my hand on the 
 bent head, I asked, " Is this you again, dear ? " A strange 
 voice answered, with the words, " Forgive ! forgive ! " 
 " Forgive / " I repeated, " What have I to forgive ? " " The 
 attempt to murder your husband in 1856. Arthur Yelver- 
 ton Brooking has forgiven. He is here with me now. Will 
 you forgive too ? " " Certainly," I replied, " I have for- 
 given long ago. You expiated your sin upon the gallows. 
 You could do no more." 
 
 The figure sprung into a standing position, and lit up 
 from head to foot, when I saw the two men standing 
 together, Arthur Yelverton Brooking and the Madras sepoy 
 who had murdered him. I never saw anything more bril- 
 liant than the appearance of the sepoy. He was dressed 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 243 
 
 completely in white, in the native costume, with a white 
 " puggree " or turban on his head. But his " puggree " was 
 flashing with jewels — strings of them were hung round his 
 neck — and his sash held a magnificent jewelled dagger. 
 You must please to remember that I was not alone, but 
 that this sight was beheld by Mrs. Hooker as well as 
 myself (to whom it was as unexpected as to her), and that 
 I know she would testify to it to-day. And now to explain 
 the reason of these unlooked-for apparitions. 
 
 In 1856 my husband, then Lieutenant Ross-Church, was 
 Adjutant of the 12th Madras Native Infantry, and Arthur 
 Yelverton Brooking, who had for some time done duty 
 with the 12th, was adjutant of another native corps, both 
 of which were stationed at Madras. Lieutenant Church 
 was not a favorite with his men, by whom he was consid- 
 ered a martinet, and one day when there had been a review 
 on the island at Madras, and the two adjutants were riding 
 home together, a sepoy of the 12th fired at Lieutenant 
 Church's back with the intent to kill him, but unfortunately 
 the bullet struck Lieutenant Brooking instead, who, after 
 lingering for twelve hours, died, leaving a young wife and 
 a baby behind him. For this offeiTce the sepoy was tried 
 and hung, and on his trial the whole truth of course came 
 out. This then was the reason that the spirits of the mur- 
 dered and the murderer came like friends, because the 
 injury had never been really intended for Brooking. 
 
 When I said that I had forgiven, the sepoy became (as 
 I have told) a blaze of light, and then knelt again and 
 kissed the hem of my dress. As he knelt there he became 
 covered, or heaped over, with a mass of the same filmy 
 drapery as enveloped "Francis," and when he rose again 
 he was standing in a cloud. He gathered an end of it, 
 and laying it on my head he wound me and himself round 
 and round with it, until we were bound up in a kind of 
 cocoon. Mrs. Hooker, who watched the whole proceeding, 
 told me afterwards that she had never seen anything like it 
 before — that she could distinctly see the dark face and the 
 white face close together all the time beneath the drapery, 
 and that I was as brightly illuminated as the spirit. Of 
 this I was not aware myself, but his brightness almost 
 dazzled me. 
 
 Let me observe also that I have been in the East Indies, 
 and within a few yards' length of sepoys, and that I am 
 
244 THERE IS NO DEATH, 
 
 sure I could never have been wrapt in the same cloth with 
 a mortal one without having been made painfully aware of 
 it in more ways than one. The spirit did not unwind me 
 again, although the winding process had taken him some 
 time. He whisked off the wrapping with one pull, and 
 1 stood alone once more. I asked him by what name I 
 should call him, and he said, "The Spirit of Light." He 
 then expressed a wish to magnetize something I wore, so 
 as to be the better able to approach me. I gave him a 
 brooch containing " John Powles' " hair, which his mother 
 had given me after his death, and he carried it back into 
 the cabinet with him. It was a valuable brooch of onyx 
 and pearls, and I was hoping my eastern friend would not 
 carry it too far, when I found it had been replaced and fas- 
 tened at my throat without my being aware of the circum- 
 stance. " Arthur Yelverton Brooking " had disappeared 
 before this, and neither of them came back again. These 
 were not all the spirits that came under the doctor's 
 mediumship during that seance, but only those whom I had 
 known and recognized. Several of Mrs. Hooker's friends 
 appeared and some of the doctor's controls, but as I have 
 said before, they could fiot help my narrative, and so I omit 
 to describe them. The seafice lasted altogether two hours, 
 and I was very grateful to the doctor for giving me the oppor- 
 tunity to study an entirely new phase of the science to me. 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH, 245 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 V. Mrs. Fay. 
 
 There was a young woman called " Annie Eva Fay," who 
 came over from America to London some years ago, and 
 appeared at the Hanover Square Rooms, in an exhibition 
 after the manner of the Davenport Brothers and Messrs. 
 Maskelyne and Cook. She must not be confounded with 
 the Mrs. Fay who forms the subject of this chapter, 
 because they had nothing to do with one another. Some 
 one in Boston advised me not to go and sit at one of this 
 Mrs. Fay's public seances. They were described to me as 
 being too physical and unrefined ; that the influences were 
 of a low order, and the audiences matched them. How- 
 ever, when I am studying a matter, I like to see everything 
 I can and hear everything I can concerning it, and to form 
 my own opinion independent of that of anybody else. So 
 I walked off by myself one night to Mrs. Fay's address, 
 and sat down in a quiet corner, watching everything that 
 occurred. The circle certainly numbered some members 
 of a humble class, but I conclude we should see that 
 everywhere if the fees were lower. Media, like other pro- 
 fessional people, fix their charges according to the quarter 
 of the city in which they live. But every member was 
 silent and respectful, and evidently a believer. 
 
 One young man, in deep mourning, with a little girl also 
 in black, of about five or six years old, attracted my atten- 
 tion at once, from his sorrowful and abstracted manner. 
 He had evidently come there, I thought, in the hope of 
 seeing some one whom he had lost. Mrs. Fay (as she 
 I^assed through the room to her cabinet) appeared a very 
 quiet, simple-looking little woman to me, without any loud- 
 ness or vulgarity about her. Her cabinet was composed 
 of two curtains only, made of some white material, and 
 hung on uprights at one angle, in a corner of the room, 
 the most transparent contrivance possible. Anything like 
 a bustle or confusion inside it, such as would be occasioned 
 
246 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 by dressing or " making up," would have been apparent at 
 once to the audience outside, who were sitting by the light 
 of an ordinary gas-burner and globe. Yet Mrs. Fay had 
 not been seated there above a few minutes, when there 
 ran out into the seaJice room two of the most extraordi- 
 nary materializations I had ever seen, and both of them 
 about as opposite to Mrs. Fay in appearance as any creatures 
 could be. 
 
 One was an Irish charwoman or apple-woman (she 
 might have been either) with a brown, wrinkled face, a 
 broken nose, tangled grey hair, a crushed bonnet, general 
 dirt and disorder, and a tongue that could talk broad Irisli, 
 and call " a spade a spade " at one and the same time. 
 " Biddy," as she was named, was accompanied by a street 
 newspaper boy — one of those urchins who run after car- 
 riages and turn Catherine-wheels in the mud, and who 
 talked "gutter-slang" in a style that was utterly unintelli- 
 gible to the decent portion of the sitters. These two went 
 on in a manner that was undoubtedly funny, but not at all 
 edifying and calculated to drive any enquirer into Spirit- 
 ualism out of the room, under the impression that they 
 were evil spirits bent on our destruction. That either of 
 them was represented by Mrs. Fay was out of the question. 
 In the first place, she would, in that instance, have been 
 so clever an actress and mimic, that she would have made 
 her fortune on the stage — added to which the boy ''■ Teddy " 
 was much too small for her, and "Biddy" was much too 
 large. Besides, no actress, however experienced, could 
 have " made up " in the time. I was quite satisfied, there- 
 fore, that neither of them was the medium, even if I could 
 not have seen her figure the while, through the thin 
 curtains, sitting in her chair. Why such low, physical 
 manifestations are permitted I am unable to say. It was 
 no wonder they had shocked the sensibility of my friend. 
 I felt half inclined myself when they appeared to get up 
 and run away. However, I was very glad afterwards that 
 I did not. They disappeared after a while, and were suc- 
 ceeded by a much pleasanter person, a cabinet spirit called 
 " Gipsy," who looked as if she might have belonged to 
 one of the gipsy tribes when on earth, she was so brown and 
 arch and lively. Presently the young man in black was 
 called up, and I saw him talking to a female spirit very 
 earnestly, After a while he took her hand and led her 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 24J 
 
 outside the curtain, and called the little girl whom he had 
 left on his seat by her name. The child looked up, screamed 
 " Mamma ! mamma ! " and flew into the arms of the spirit, 
 who knelt down and kissed her, and we could hear the 
 child sobbing and saying, " Oh ! mamma, why did you go 
 away? — why did you go away? " It was a very affecting 
 scene — at least it seemed so to me. The instant recogni- 
 tion by the little girl, and her perfect unconsciousness but 
 that her mother had returned in propria persona, would 
 have been more convincing proof of the genuineness of 
 Spiritualism to a sceptic, than fifty miracles of greater im- 
 portance. When the spirit mother had to leave again the 
 child's agony at parting was very apparent. "Take me 
 with you," she kept on saying, and her father had actually 
 to carry her back to her seat. When they got there they 
 both wept in unison. Afterwards he said to me in an 
 apologetic sort of way — he was sitting next to me — " It is 
 the first time, you see, that Mary has seen her poor mother, 
 but I wanted to have her testimony to her identity, and I 
 think she gave it pretty plainly, poor child ! She'll never 
 be content to let me come alone now." I said, " I think it 
 is a pity you brought her so young," and so I did. 
 
 " Florence " did not appear (she told me afterwards the 
 atmosphere was so " rough " that she could not), and I 
 began to think that no one would come for me, when a 
 common seaman, dressed in ordinary sailor's clothes, ran 
 out of the cabinet and began dancing a hornpipe in front 
 of me. He danced it capitally too, and with any amount 
 of vigorous snapping his fingers to mark the time, and when 
 he had finished he *' made a leg," as sailors call it, and stood 
 before me. " Have you come for me, my friend ? " I 
 enquired. " Not exactly," he answered, " but I came 
 with the Cap'en. I came to pave the way for him. The 
 Cap'en will be here directly. We was in the Avenger 
 together." (Now all the v/orld knows that my eldest 
 brother, Frederick Marryat, was drowned in the wreck of 
 the Avenger in 1847 > ^^^ ^^ -^ ^^'^^ ^ little child at the time, 
 and had no remembrance of him, I had never dreamt of 
 seeing him again. He was a first lieutenant when he died, 
 so I do not know why the seaman gave him brevet rank, 
 but I repeat his words as he said them.) After a minute 
 or two I was called up to the cabinet, and saw my brother 
 Frederick (whom I recognized from his likeness) standing 
 
348 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 there dressed in naval uniform, but looking very stiff and 
 unnatural. He smiled when he saw me, but did not 
 attempt to kiss me. I said, " Why ! Fred! is it really you? 
 I thought you would have forgotten all about me." He 
 replied, " Forgotten little Flo ? Why should I ? Do you 
 think I have never seen you since that time, nor heard 
 anything about you? I know everything — everything!" 
 " You must know, then, that I have not spent a very happy 
 life," I said. " Never mind," he answered, "you needed 
 it. It has done you good ! " But all he said was without 
 any life in it, as if he spoke mechanically — perhaps because 
 it was the first time he had materialized. 
 
 I had said " Good-bye " to him, and dropped the cur- 
 tain, when I heard my name called twice, " Flo! Flo!" 
 and turned to receive my sister " Emily " in my arms. She 
 looked like herself exactly, but she had only time to kiss 
 me and gasp out, " So glad, so happy to meet again," when 
 she appeared to faint. Her eyes closed, her head fell back 
 on my shoulder, and before I had time to realize what was 
 going to happen, she had passed through the arm that sup- 
 ported her, and sunk down through the floor. The sensa- 
 tion of her weight was still making my arm tingle, but 
 " Emily " was gone — clean gone. I was very much disap- 
 pointed. I had longed to see this sister again, and speak 
 to her confidentially ; but whether it was something antago- 
 nistic in the influence of this seance room (" Florence " 
 said afterwards that it was), or there was some other cause 
 for it, I know not, but most certainly my friends did not 
 seem to flourish there. 
 
 I had another horrible disappointment before I left. 
 A voice from inside the cabinet called out, " Here are two 
 babies who want the lady sitting under the picture." Now, 
 there was only one picture hanging in the room, and I was 
 sitting under it. I looked eagerly towards the cabinet, and 
 saw issue from it the " Princess Gertie " leading a little 
 toddler with a flaxen poll and bare feet, and no clothing 
 but a kind of white chemise. This was " Joan," the 
 " Yonnie " I had so often asked to see, and I rose in the 
 greatest expectation to receive the little pait. Just as they 
 gained the centre of the room, however, taking very short 
 and careful steps, like babies first set on their feet, the 
 cabinet spirit '■^ (^x'^^y" bounced out of the curtains, and 
 saying decidedly, " Here ! we don't want any children 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 249 
 
 about," she placed her hand on the heads of my little ones, 
 zxiA pressed them down through the floor. They seemed 
 to crumble to pieces before my eyes, and their place knew 
 them no more. I couldn't help feeling angry. I exclaimed, 
 " O ! what did you do that for? Those were my babies, 
 and I have been longing to see them so." " I can't help 
 it," replied " Gipsy," " but this isn't a seance for children." 
 I was so vexed that I took no more interest in the proceed- 
 ings. A great number of forms appeared, thirty or forty 
 in all, but by the time I returned to my hotel and began 
 to jot down my notes, I could hardly remember what they 
 were. I had been dreaming all the time of how much I 
 should have liked to hold that little flaxen-haired " Yonnie " 
 iu my arms.. 
 
2SO THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 VI. Virginia Roberts. 
 
 When I returned to New York, it was under exceptional 
 circumstances. I had taken cold whilst travelling in the 
 Western States, had had a severe attack of bronchitis and 
 pneumonia at Chicago, was compelled to relinquish my 
 business, and as soon as I was well enough to travel, was 
 ordered back to New York to recuperate my health. Here 
 I took up my abode in the Victoria Hotel, where a lady, 
 whose acquaintance I had made on my former visit to the 
 city, was living. As I have no permission to publish this 
 
 lady's name, I must call her Mrs. S . She had been a 
 
 Spiritualist for some time before I knev>'^ her, and she much 
 interested me by showing me an entry in her diary, made 
 four years previous to my arrival in America. It was an 
 account of the utterances of a Mrs. Philips, a clairvoyant 
 then resident in New York, during which she had prophe- 
 sied my arrival in the city, described my personal appear- 
 ance, profession, and general surroundings perfectly, and 
 foretold my acquaintanceship with Mrs. S . The pro- 
 phecy ended with words to the effect that our meeting 
 would be followed by certain effects that would influence 
 her future life,^and that on the 17th of March, 1885, would 
 commence a new era in her existence. It was at the 
 beginning of March that we first lived under the same roof. 
 
 As soon as Mrs. S found that I was likely to have some 
 
 weeks of leisure, she became very anxious that we should 
 visit the New York media together ; for although she had 
 so long been a believer in Spiritualism, she had not (owing 
 to family opposition) met with much sympathy on the sub- 
 ject, or had the opportunity of much investigation. So 
 we determined, as soon as I was well enough to go out in 
 the evening, that we would attend some seances. As it 
 happened, when that time came, we found the medium 
 most accessible to be Miss Virginia Roberts, of whom 
 neither of us knew anything but what we had learned from 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 351 
 
 the public papers. However, it was necessary that I should 
 be exposed as little as possible to the night air, and so we 
 fixed, by chance as it were, to visit Miss Roberts first. 
 We found her living with her mother and brother in a small 
 house in one of the back streets of the city. She was a 
 young girl of sixteen, very reserved and rather timid-look- 
 ing, who had to be drawn out before she could be made to 
 talk. She had only commenced sitting a few months 
 before, and that because her brother (who was also a 
 medium) had had an illness and been obliged to give up 
 his seances for a while. The seance room was very small, 
 the manifestations taking place almost in the midst of the 
 circle, and the cabinet (so-called) was the flimsiest con- 
 trivance I had ever seen. Four uprights of iron, not 
 thicker than the rod of a muslin Hind, with cross-bars of 
 the same, on which were hung thin curtains of lilac print, 
 formed the construction of this cabinet, which shook and 
 swayed about each time a form left or entered it. A har- 
 monium for accompanying the voices, and a few chairs for 
 the audience, was all the furniture the room contained. 
 The first evening we went to see Miss Roberts there were 
 only two or three sitters beside ourselves. The medium 
 seemed to be pretty nearly unknown, and I resolved, as I 
 usually do in such cases, not to expect anything, for fear 
 I should be disappointed. 
 
 Mrs. S , on the contrary, was all expectation and 
 
 excitement. If she had ever sat for materializations, it 
 had been long before, and the idea was like a new one to 
 her. After two or three forms had appeared, of no interest 
 to us, a gentleman in full evening dress walked suddenly 
 out of the cabinet, and said, '• Kate," which was the name 
 
 of Mrs. S . He was a stout, well-formed man, of an 
 
 imposing presence, with dark hair and eyes, and he wore a 
 solitaire of diamonds of unusual brilliancy in his shirt front. 
 
 I had no idea who he was ; but Mrs. S recognized him 
 
 at once as an old lover who had died whilst under a mis- 
 understanding with her, and she was powerfully affected — 
 more, she was terribly frightened. It seems that she wore 
 at her throat a brooch which he had given her ; but every 
 time he approached her with the view of touching it, she 
 shrieked so loudly, and threw herself into such a state of 
 nervous agitation, that I thought she would have to return 
 home again. However, on her being accommodated with 
 
252 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 a chair in the last row so that she might have the other 
 sitters between her and the materialized spirits, she man- 
 aged to calm herself. The only friend who appeared for 
 me that evening was "John Powles;" and, to my surprise 
 and pleasure, he appeared in the old uniform of the 12th 
 Madras Native Infantry. This corps wore facings of fawn, 
 with buttons bearing the word " Ava," encircled by a 
 wreath of laurel. The mess jackets were lined with wadded 
 fawn silk, and the waistcoats were trimmed with three lines 
 of narrow gold braid. Their " karkee," or undress uniform, 
 established in 1859, consisted of a tunic and trousers of a 
 sad green cloth, with the regimental buttons and a crimson 
 silk sash. The marching dress of all officers in the Indian 
 service is made of white drill, with a cap cover of the same 
 material. '1 heir forage cloak is of dark blue cloth, and hangs 
 to their heels. Their forage cap has a broad square peak to 
 shelter the face and eyes. I mention these details for the 
 benefit of those who are not acquainted with the general 
 dress of the Indian army, and to show how difficult it 
 would have been for Virginia Roberts, or any other medium, 
 to have procured them, even had she known the private 
 wish expressed by me to " John Powles " in Boston, that 
 he would try and come to me in uniform. On this first 
 occasion of his appearing so, he wore the usual everyday 
 coat, buttoned up to his chin, and he made me examine 
 the buttons to see that they bore the crest and motlo of 
 the regiment. And I may say here, that before I left New 
 York he appeared to me in every one of the various dresses 
 I have described above, and became quite a marked figure 
 in the city. 
 
 When it was made known through the papers that an old 
 friend of Florence Marryal had appeared through the 
 mediumship of Virginia Roberts, in a uniform of thirty 
 years before, I received numbers of private letters inquir- 
 ing if it were true, and dozens of people visited Miss 
 Roberts' seances for the sole purpose of seeing him. He 
 took a great liking for Mrs. S , and when she had con- 
 quered her first fear she became quite friendly with him, 
 and I heard, after leaving New York, that he continued to 
 appear for her as long as she attended those seances. 
 
 There was one difference in the female spirits that came 
 through Virginia Roberts from those of other media. 
 Those that were strong enough to leave the cabinet inva- 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 253 
 
 riably disappeared by floating upwards through the ceiling. 
 Their mode of doing this was most graceful. They would 
 first clasp their hands behind their heads and lean back- 
 ward ; then their feet were lifted off the ground, and they 
 were borne upward in a recumbent position. When I 
 related this to my friend, Dr. George Leffcrts (under whom 
 I was for throat treatment to recover my voice), he declared 
 there must be some machinery connected with the uprights 
 that supported the cabinet, by which the forms were ele- 
 vated. He had got it all so " pat " that lie was able to 
 take a pencil and demonstrate to me on paper exactly how 
 the machinery worked, and how easy it would be to swing 
 full-sized human bodies up to the ceiling with it. How 
 they managed to disappear when they got there he was not 
 quite prepared to say ; but if he once saw the trick done, 
 he would explain the whole matter to me, and expose it 
 into the bargain. I told Dr. Lefferts, as I have told many 
 other clever men,' that I shall be the first person open to 
 conviction when they can convince me, and I bore him off 
 to a private seance with Virginia Roberts for that purpose 
 only. He was all that was charming on the occasion. He 
 gave me a most delightful dinner at Delmonico's first (for 
 which I tender him in print my grateful recollection), and 
 he tested all Miss Roberts' manifestations in the most 
 delicate and gentlemanly manner (sceptics as a rule are 
 neither delicate nor gentlemanly), but he could neither 
 open my eyes to chicanery nor detect it himself. He 
 handled and shook the frail supports of the cabinet, and 
 confessed they were much too weak to bear any such weight 
 as he had imagined. He searched the carpeted floor and 
 the adjoining room for hidden machinery without finding 
 the slightest thing to rouse his suspicions, and yet he saw 
 the female forms float upwards through the whitewashed 
 ceiling, and came away from the siance room as wise as 
 when he had entered it. 
 
 But this occurred some weeks after. I must relate first 
 what happened after our first seance with Miss Roberts. 
 
 Mrs. S and I were well enough pleased with the result 
 
 to desire to test her capabilities further, and with that intent 
 we invited her to visit us at our hotel. Spiritualism is as 
 much tabooed by one section of the American public as it 
 is encouraged by the other, and so we resolved to breathe 
 nothing of our intentions, but invite the girl to dine and 
 
854 THERE IS NO DEATH, 
 
 spend the evening in our rooms with us just as if she were 
 an ordinary visitor. Consequently, we dined together at 
 the table d'hote before we took our way upstairs. Mrs. 
 
 S and I had a private sitting-room, the windows of 
 
 which were draped with white lace curtains only, and we 
 had no other means to shut out the light. Consequently, 
 when we wished to sit, all we could do was to place a 
 chair for Virginia Roberts in the window recess, behind 
 one of these pairs of curtains, and pin them together in 
 front of her, which formed the airiest cabinet imaginable. 
 We then locked the door, lowered the gas, and sat down 
 on a sofa before the curtains. 
 
 In the space of five minutes, without the lace curtains 
 having been in the slightest degree disturbed, Francis Lean, 
 my stepson, walked through them, and came up to my side. 
 He was dressed in his ordinary costume of jersey and 
 "jumpers," and had a little worsted cap upon his head. 
 He displayed all tlie peculiarities of speech and manner I 
 have noticed before ; but he was much less timid, and 
 stood by me for a long time talking of my domestic affairs, 
 which were rather complicated, and giving me a detailed 
 account of the accident which caused his death, and which 
 had been always somewhat of a mystery. In doing this, 
 he mentioned names of people hitherto unknown to me, 
 but which I found on after inquiry to be true. He seemed 
 quite delighted to be able to manifest so indisputably like 
 himself, and remarked more than once, " I'm not much like 
 a girl now, am I, Ma ? " 
 
 Next, Mrs. S 's old lover came, of whom she was 
 
 still considerably alarmed, and her father, who had been a 
 great politician and a well-known man. *' Florence," too, 
 of course, though never so lively through Miss Roberts as 
 through other media, but still happy though pensile, and 
 full of advice how I was to act when I reached England 
 again. Presently a soft voice said, " Aunt Flo, don't you 
 know me? " And I saw standing in front of me my niece 
 and godchild, Lilian Thomas, who had died as a nun in 
 the Convent of the " Dames Anglaises " at Bruges. She 
 was clothed in her nun's habit, which was rather peculiar, 
 the face being surrounded by a white cap, with a crimped 
 border that hid all the hair, and surmounted by a white 
 veil of some heavy woollen material which covered the 
 head and the black serge dress. " Lilian " had died of 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 255 
 
 consumption, and the death-like, waxy complexion which 
 she had had for some time before was exactly reproduced. 
 She had not much to say for herself; indeed, we had been 
 completely separated since she had entered the convent, but 
 she was undoubtedly there. She was succeeded by my 
 sister " Emily," whom I have already so often described. 
 And these apparitions, six in number, and all recognizable, 
 
 were produced in the private room of Mrs. S and 
 
 myself, and with no other person but Virginia Roberts, 
 sixteen years old. 
 
 It was about this time that we received an invitation to 
 attend a private seance in a large house in the city, occu- 
 pied by Mr. and Mrs. Newman, who had Maud Lord 
 staying with them as a visitor. Maud Lord's mediumship 
 is a peculiar one. She places her sitters in a circle, hold- 
 ing hands. She then seats herself on a chair in the centre, 
 and keeps on clapping her hands, to intimate that she has 
 not changed her position. The seance is held in darkness, 
 and the manifestations consist of " direct voices," i.e. 
 voices that every one can hear, and by what they say to 
 you, you must judge of their identity and truthfulness. I 
 had only witnessed powers of this kind once before — ■ 
 through Mrs. Bassett, who is now Mrs. Heme — but as no 
 one spoke to me through her whom I recognized, I have 
 omitted to give any account of it. 
 
 As soon as Maud Lord's sitting was fully established, I 
 heard her addressing various members of the company, 
 telling them who stood beside them, and I heard them 
 putting questions to, or holding conversations with, crea- 
 ture who were invisible to me. The time went on, and I 
 believed I was going to be left out of it, when I heard a 
 voice close to my ear whisper, "Arthur." At the same 
 moment Maud Lord's voice sounded in my direction, saying 
 that the lady in the brown velvet hat had a gentleman 
 standing near her, named " Arthur," who wished to be 
 recognized. I was the only lady present in a brown velvet 
 hat, yet I could not recall any deceased friend of the 
 name of " Arthur " who might wish to communicate with 
 me. (It is a constant occurrence at a seance that the 
 mind refuses to remember a name, or a circumstance, and 
 on returning home, perhaps the whole situation makes it- 
 self clear, and one wonders how one could have been so 
 dull as not to perceive it.) So I said that I knew no one 
 
256 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 in the spirit-world of that name, and Maud Lord replied, 
 " Well, he knows you, at all events." A few more minutes 
 elapsed, when I felt a touch on the third finger of my left 
 hand, and the voice spoke again and said, "Arthur! 
 * Artlmr's ring.' Have you quite forgotten ? " This action 
 brought the person to my memory, and I exclaimed, " Oh I 
 Johnny Cope^ is it you? " 
 
 To explain this, I must tell my readers tliat when I 
 went out to India in 1854, Arthur Cope of the Lancers 
 was a passenger by the same steamer; and when we 
 landed in Madras, he made me a present of a diamond 
 ring, which I wore at that seance as a guard. But he was 
 never called by anything but his nickname of "Johnny," 
 so that his real appellation had quite slipped my memory. 
 The poor fellow died in 1856 or 1857, and I had been 
 ungrateful enough to forget all about him, and should 
 never have remembered his name had it not been coupled 
 with the ring. It would have been still more remarkable, 
 though, if Maud Lord, who had never seen me till that 
 evening, had discovered an incident which happened 
 thirty years before, and which I had completely forgotten. 
 
 Before I had been many days in New York, I fell 
 ill again from exposing myself to the weather, this time 
 
 with a bad throat. Mr. S and I slept in the same 
 
 room, and our sitting-room opened into the bedroom. She 
 was indefatigable in her attentions and kindness to me 
 during my illness, and kept running backwards and for- 
 wards from the bedroom to the sitting-room, both by 
 night and day, to get me fresh poultices, which she kept 
 hot on the steam stove. 
 
 One evening about eleven o'clock she got out of bed in 
 her nightdress, and went into the next room for this pur- 
 pose. Almost directly after she entered it, I heard a 
 heavy fall. I called her by name, and receiving no answer, 
 became frightened, jumped out of bed, and followed her. 
 To my consternation, I found her stretched out, at full 
 length, on a white bearskin rug, and quite insensible. She 
 was a delicate woman, and I thought at first that she had 
 fainted from fatigue ; but when she showed no signs of 
 returning consciousness, I became alarmed. I was very 
 weak myself from my illness, and hardly able to stand, 
 but I managed to put on a dressing-gown and summon 
 the assistance of a lady who occupied the room next to us. 
 
THERE IS 1^0 DEATH. >i<*i 
 
 and whose acquaintance we had already made. She was 
 
 strong and capable, and helped me to place Mrs. S 
 
 upon the sofa, where she lay in the same condition. After 
 we had done all we could think of to bring her to herself 
 without effect, the next-door lady became frightened. She 
 said to me, " I don't like this. I think we ought to call in 
 a doctor. Supposing she were to die without regaining 
 consciousness." I replied, " I should say the same, ex- 
 cepting I begin to believe she has not fainted at all, but is 
 in a trance ; and in that case, any violent attempts to 
 bring her to herself might injure her. Just see how quietly 
 she breathes, and how very young she looks." 
 
 When her attention was called to this fact, the next- 
 door lady was astonished. Mrs. S , who was a woman 
 
 past forty, looked like a girl of sixteen. She was a very 
 pretty woman, but with a dash of temper in her expres- 
 sion which spoiled it. Now with all the passions and 
 lines smoothed out of it, she looked perfectly lovely. So 
 she might have looked in death. But she was not dead. 
 She was breathing. So I felt sure that the spirit had 
 escaped for a while and left her free. I covered her up 
 warmly on the sofa, and determined to leave her there till 
 the trance had passed. After a while I persuaded the 
 next-door lady to think as I did, and to go back to her own 
 bed. As soon as she had gone, I administered my own 
 poultice, and sat down to watch beside my friend. The 
 time went on until seven in the morning — seven hours she 
 had lain, without moving a limb, upon the sofa — when, 
 without any warning, she sat up and gazed about her. I 
 called her by name, and asked her what she wanted ; but 
 I could see at once, by her expression, that she did not 
 know me. Presently she asked me, " Who are you? " I 
 told her. " Are you Kate's friend ? " she said. I an- 
 swered, "Yes." "Do you know who /am?" was the 
 next question, which, of course, I answered in the nega- 
 tive. Mrs. S thereupon gave me the name of a Ger- 
 man gentleman which I had never heard before. An 
 extraordinary scene then followed. Influenced by the 
 
 spirit that possessed her, Mrs. S rose and unlocked a 
 
 cabinet of her own, which stood in the room, and taking 
 thence a bundle of old letters, she selected several and 
 read portions of them aloud to me. She then told me a 
 history of herself and the gentleman whose spirit was speak- 
 
 17 
 
as8 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 ing through her, and gave me several messages to deliver to 
 herself the following day. It will be sufficient for me to 
 say that this history was of so private a nature, that it was 
 most unlikely she would have confided it to me or any 
 one, particularly as she was a woman of a most secretive 
 nature ; but names, addresses, and even words of conver- 
 sations were given, in a manner which would have left no 
 
 room for doubt of their truthfulness, even if Mrs. S 
 
 had not confirmed them to be facts afterwards. This went 
 on for a long time, the spirit expressing the greatest ani- 
 mosity against Mrs. S all the while, and then the 
 
 power seemed suddenly to be spent, and she went off to 
 sleep again upon the sofa, waking up naturally about an 
 hour afterwards, and very much surprised to hear what 
 had happened to her meanwhile. When we came to 
 consider the matter, we found that this unexpected seizure 
 had taken place upon the i']th of March, the day pre- 
 dicted by Mrs. Philips four years previously as one on 
 
 which a new era would commence for Mrs. S . From 
 
 that time she continually went into trances, and used to 
 predict the future for herself and others ; but whether she 
 has kept it up to this day I am unable to say, as I have 
 heard nothing from her since I left America. 
 
 That event took place on the 13th of June, 1885. We 
 had been in the habit of spending our Sunday evenings in 
 Miss Roberts' siance room, and she begged me not to miss 
 the last opportunity. When we arrived there, we found 
 that the accompanist who usually played the harmonium 
 for them was unable to be present, and Miss Roberts asked 
 if I would be his substitute. I said I would, on condition 
 that they moved the instrument on a line with the cabinet, 
 so that I might not lose a sight of what was going on. 
 This was accordingly done, and I commenced to play 
 "Thou art gone from my gaze." Almost immediately 
 " John Powles " stepped out, dressed in uniform, and stood 
 by the harmonium with his hand upon my shoulder. " I 
 never was much of a singer, yon know, Flo," he said to 
 me ; " but if you will sing that song with me, I'll try and 
 go through it." And he actually did sing (after a fashion) 
 the entire two verses of the ballad, keeping his hand on 
 my shoulder the whole time. When we came to the line, 
 " I seek thee in vain by the meadow and stream," he stooped 
 down and whispered in my ear, " Not quite in vain, Flo, 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 259 
 
 has it been ? " I do not know if my English Spiritualistic 
 friends can ** cap " this story, but in America they told 
 me it was quite a unique performance, particularly at a 
 public stance, where the jarring of so many diverse in- 
 fluences often hinders instead of helping the manifestations. 
 "Powles" appeared to be especially strong on that 
 occasion. Towards the middle of the evening a kind of 
 whining was heard to proceed from the cabinet ; and Miss 
 Roberts, who was not entranced, said, " There's a baby 
 coming out for Miss Marryat." At the same time the face 
 of little " Yonnie " appeared at the opening of the curtains, 
 but nearly level with the ground, as she was crawling out 
 on all fours. Before she had had time to advance beyond 
 them, " Powles " stepped over her and came amongst us. 
 "Oh, Powles ! " I exclaimed, "you used to love my little 
 babies. Do pick up that one for me that I may see it 
 properly." He immediately returned, took up " Yonnie," 
 and brought her out into the circle on his arm. The 
 contrast of the baby's white kind of nightgown with his 
 scarlet uniform was very striking. He carried the child to 
 each sitter that it might be thoroughly examined ; and 
 when he had returned " Yonnie " to the cabinet, he came 
 out again on his own account. That evening I was sum- 
 moned into the cabinet myself by the medium's guide, a 
 little Italian girl, who had materialized several times for 
 our benefit. When I entered it, I stumbled up against 
 Miss Roberts' chair. There was barely room for me to 
 stand beside it. She said to me, " Is \\\dX you., Miss Mar- 
 ryat ? " and I replied, " Yes ; didn't you send for me ? " 
 She said " No ; I didn't send, I know nothing about it ! " 
 A voice behind me said, "/sent for you !" and at the 
 same moment two strong arms were clasped round my 
 waist, and a man's face kissed me over my shoulder. I 
 asked, " Who are you ? " and he replied, " Walk out of the 
 cabinet and you shall see." I turned round, two hands 
 were placed upon my shoulders, and I walked back into 
 the circle with a tall man walking behind me in that posi- 
 tion. When I could look at him in the gaslight, I re- 
 cognized my brother, Frank Marryat, who died in 1855, 
 and whom I had never seen since. Of course, the other 
 
 spirits who were familiar with Mrs. S and myself came 
 
 to wish me a pleasant voyage across the Atlantic, but I 
 have mentioned them all so often that I fear I must already 
 
26o THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 have tired out the patience of my readers. But in order 
 to be impressive it is so necessary to be explicit. All I 
 can bring forward in excuse is, that every word I have 
 written is the honest and unbiassed truth. Here, there- 
 fore, ends the account of my experience in Spiritualism up 
 to the present moment — not, by any means, the half, nor 
 yet the quarter of it, but all I consider likely to interest 
 the general public. And those who have been interested 
 in it may see their own friends as I have done, if they will 
 only take the same trouble that I have done. 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 261 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 ' QUI BONO ? " 
 
 My friends have so often asked me this question, that I 
 tliink, before I close this book, I am justified in answering 
 it, at all events, as far as I myself am concerned. How 
 often have I sat, surrounded by an interested audience, 
 who knew me too well to think me either a lunatic or a 
 liar ; and after I have told them some of the most mar- 
 vellous and thrilling of my experiences, they have assailed 
 me with these questions, " But what is it ? And what ^<7o^ 
 does it do ? What is it ? " There, my friends, I confess 
 you stagger me ! I can no more tell you what it is than I 
 can tell you what yott are or what / am. We know that, 
 like Topsy, we " grew." We know that, given certain 
 conditions and favorable accessories, a child comes into 
 this world, and a seed sprouts through the dark earth and 
 becomes a flower ; but though we know the cause and see 
 the effect, the greatest man of science, or the greatest 
 botanist, cannot tell you how the child is made, nor how 
 the plant grows. Neither can I (or any one) tell you what 
 the power is that enables a spirit to make itself apparent. 
 I can only say that it can do so, and refer you to the Crea- 
 tor of you and me and the entire universe. The common- 
 est things the earth produces are all miracles, from the 
 growing of a mustard seed to the expansion of a human 
 brain. What is more wonderful than the hatching of an 
 egg ? You see it done every day. It has become so com- 
 mon that you regard it as an event of no consequence. 
 You know the exact number of days the bird must sit to 
 produce a live chicken with all its functions ready for 
 nature's use, but you see nothing wonderful in it. All 
 birds can do the same, and you would not waste your time 
 in speculating on the wondrous effect of heat upon a liquid 
 substance which turns to bone and blood and flesh and 
 feathers. 
 
 If you were as familiar with the reappearance of those 
 who have gone before as you are with chickens, you would 
 
262 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 see nothing supernatural in their manifesting themselves 
 to you, and nothing more miraculous than in. the birth of a 
 child or the hatching of an egg. Why should it be ? Who 
 has fixed the abode of the spirit after death ? Who can 
 say where it dwells, or that it is not permitted to return 
 to this world, perhaps to live in it altogether ? Still, how- 
 ever the Almighty sends them, the fact remains that they 
 come, and that thousands can testify to the fact. As to 
 the theory advanced by some people that they are devils, 
 sent to lure us to our destruction, that is an insult to the 
 wisdom or mercy of an Omnipotent Creator. They cannot 
 come except by His permission, just as He sends children 
 to some people and withholds them from others. And the 
 conversation of most of those that I have talked with is all 
 on the side of religion, prayer, and self-sacrifice. My 
 friends, at all events, have never denied the existence of 
 a God or a Saviour. They have, on the contrary (and 
 especially " Florence "), been very quick to rebuke me for 
 anything I may have done that was wrong, for neglect of 
 prayer and church-going, for speaking evil of my neigh- 
 bors, or any other fault. They have continually incul- 
 cated the doctrine that religion consists in unselfish love 
 to our fellow-creatures, and in devotion to God. I do not 
 deny that there are frivolous and occasionally wicked 
 spirits about us. Is it to be wondered at ? For one spirit 
 that leaves this world calculated to do good to his fellow- 
 creatures, a hundred leave it who will do him harm. That 
 is really the reason that the Church discourages Spirit- 
 ualism. She does not disbelieve in it. She knows it to be 
 true ; but she also knows it to be dangerous. Since like 
 attracts like, the numbers of thoughtless spirits who still 
 dwell on earth would naturally attract the numbers of 
 thoughtless spirits who have left it, and their influence is 
 best dispensed with. Talk of devils. I have known many 
 more devils in the flesh than out of it, and could name a 
 number of acquaintances who, when once passed out of 
 this world, I should steadfastly refuse to have any com- 
 munication with. I have no doubt myself whatever as to 
 what it is, or that I have seen my dear friends and children 
 as I knew them upon earth. But how they come or where 
 they go, I must wait until I join them to ascertain, even if 
 I shall do it then. 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 2.(>i 
 
 The second question, however, I can more easily deal 
 with, What good is it? The only wonder to me is that 
 people who are not stone-blind to what is going on in this 
 world can put such a question. What good is it to have 
 one's faith in Immortality and another life confirmed in an 
 age of freethought, scepticism and utter callousness ? When 
 I look around me and see the young men nowadays — ay, 
 and the young women too — who believe in no hereafter, 
 who lie down and die, like the dumb animals who cannot 
 be made to understand the love of the dear God who 
 created them although they feel it, I cannot think of any- 
 thing calculated to do them more good than the return of 
 a father or a mother or a friend, who could convince them 
 by ocular demonstration that there is a future life and 
 happiness and misery, according to the one we have led 
 here below. 
 
 " Oh, but," I seem to hear some readers exclaim, " we 
 do believe in all that you say. We have been taught so 
 from our youth up, and the Bible points to it in every 
 line." You may think you believe it, my friends, and in a 
 theoretical way you may ; but you do not realize it, and 
 the whole of your lives proves it. Death, instead of being 
 the blessed portal to the Life Elysian, the gate of which 
 may swing open for you any day, and admit you to eternal 
 and unfading happiness, is a far-off misty phantom, whose 
 approach you dread, and the sight of which in others you 
 run away from. The majority of people avoid the very 
 mention of death. They would not look at a corpse for 
 anything ; the sight of a coffin or a funeral or a graveyard 
 fills them with horror ; the idea of it for themselves makes 
 them turn pale with fright. Is this belief in the existence 
 of a tender Father and a blessed home waiting to receive 
 them on the other side ? Even professed Christian expe- 
 rience what they term a " natural " horror at the thought 
 of death! I have known persons of fixed religious princi- 
 ples who had passed their lives (apparently) in prayer, 
 and expressed their firm belief in Heaven waiting for them, 
 fight against death with all their mortal energies, and try 
 their utmost to baffle the disease that was sent to carry 
 them to everlasting happiness. Is this logical ? It is tan- 
 tamount in my idea to the pauper in the workhouse who 
 knows that directly the gate is open to let him through, he 
 will pass from skilly, oakum, and solitary confinement to 
 
264 THERE IS NO DEATH. 
 
 the King's Palace to enjoy youth, healthy and prosperity 
 evermore ; and who, when he sees the gates beginning to 
 unclose, puts his back and all his neighbors' backs against 
 them to keep them shut as long as possible. 
 
 Death should not be a " horror " to any one; and if we 
 knew more about it, it would cease to be so. It is the 
 mystery that appals us. We see our friends die, and no 
 word or sign comes back to tell us that there is no death, 
 so we picture them to ourselves mouldering in the damp 
 earth till we nearly go mad with grief and dismay. Some 
 people think me heartless because I never go near the 
 graves of those whom I love best. Why should I ? I 
 might with more reason go and sit beside a pile of their 
 cast-off garments. I could see them, and they would 
 actually retain more of their identity and influence than 
 the corpse which I could not see. I mourn their loss just 
 the same, but I mourn it as I should do if they had settled 
 for life in a far distant land, from which I could only enjoy 
 occasional glimpses of their happiness. 
 
 And I may say emphatically that the greatest good 
 Spiritualism does is to remove the fear of one's own death. 
 One can never be quite certain of the changes that circum- 
 stances may bring about, nor do I like to boast overmuch. 
 Disease and weakness may destroy the nerve I flatter my- 
 self on possessing ; but I think I may say that as matters 
 stand at present ///atz'*? no fear of death whatever, and the 
 only trouble I can foresee in passing through it will be to 
 witness the distress of my friends. But when I remember 
 all those who have gathered on the other side, and whom I 
 firmly believe will be present to help me in my passage 
 there, I can feel nothing but a great curiosity to pierce the 
 mysteries as yet unrevealed to me, and a great longing for 
 the time to come when I shall join those whom I loved so 
 much on earth. Not to be happy at once by any manner 
 of means. I am too sinful a mortal for that, but " to work 
 out my salvation " in the way God sees best for me, to 
 make my own heaven or hell according as I have loved 
 and succoured my fellow-creatures here below. Yet how- 
 ever much I may be destined to suffer, never without hope 
 and assistance from those whom I have loved, and never 
 without feeling that through the goodness of God each 
 struggle or reparation brings me near to the fruition ol 
 eternal happiness. This is my belief, tliis is the good that 
 
THERE IS NO DEATH. 265 
 
 the certain knowledge that we can never die has done for 
 me, and tlie worst I wish for anybody is that they may 
 share it with me. 
 
 Oh ! though oft depressed and lonely, 
 
 All my fears are laid aside, 
 If I but remember only 
 
 Such as these have lived and died." 
 
 THE END. 
 
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