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VOLUME I.

Page 33, line 20. For 999,999, 98, read 999, 999, 999, 1.

Page 34, line 6. For 1000 to 1, read “about 500 to 1.”

Page 88. Since the note on this page was written, some additional evidence has been obtained as to the effect of concentration of the operator’s will in the process of hypnotising. See the cases quoted in the Additional Chapter, (Vol. II., pp. 680, 684, 685,) from the records of the Société de Psychologie Physiologique.

Page 110, first note. Two further examples of this interesting type will be found on pp. lxxxi-iv, below.

Page 118, second note. After this note had been printed off, I came across a passage from Die Christliche Mystik, by J. J. von Goerres, in which a learned bishop, Prudencio de Sandoval, is made to describe a witch’s journey through the air as though he had himself been a judicial spectator of it. A reference to Sandoval’s own account, however, in his Historia de la vida y hechos del Emperador Carlos V. (Pamplona, 1618), Vol. I., p. 830, shows that the trial of the witch in question took place in 1527. Now Sandoval died in 1621; clearly, therefore, he could not have been a first-hand witness, as represented. Nor does he even name his authority; and discredit is thrown on his sources of information by Llorente, in his Anales de la Inquisicion de España (Madrid, 1812), p. 319. As the passage from Goerres was quoted in a first-class scientific review, and, if accurate, would have told against my statements as to the absence of first-hand evidence for alleged magical occurrences, I have thought it worth while to forestall a possible objection.

The only instance that I can find, during the witch-epoch, of definite first-hand evidence for a marvel of a type which our present knowledge of abnormal bodily and mental states will not explain, is, as it happens, not part of the history of so-called magic, but is connected with the extraordinary epidemic of religious excitement which took place in the Cevennes at the beginning of the last century. As the instance seems to be a solitary one, it may be worth while to give the facts. The Théâtre Sacré des Cevennes (London, 1707) contains the depositions of two witnesses to the fact that they saw a man named Clary stand for many minutes, totally uninjured, in the midst of a huge fire of blazing wood; and that they immediately afterwards ascertained by their own senses that there was not a sign of burning on him or his clothes. This is the sort of case which, if multiplied by scores or hundreds, and if nothing were known against the character of the witnesses, would support the view that an apparently strong evidential case can be made out for phenomena—being matters of direct observation—which nevertheless for the scientific mind are impossible; and that therefore the evidential case for telepathy presented in this book may be safely neglected (see p. 115). But the character of the two deponents mentioned is seriously impugned by a third witness, the celebrated Colonel Cavallier, who had no interest in decrying his own followers and partisans, and whose probity seems never to have been doubted even by those who most questioned his good sense.¹ (Nouveaux Memoires pour Servir à l’Histoire des Trois Camisars, London, 1708, pp. 6–9.) He describes them as worthless impostors, as to whom it was easy to see “qu’ il n’y a pas beaucoup à compter sur ce qu’ ils disent, et encore moins sur ce qu’ ils sont.” See also the account given of them by Dr. Hutchinson, a by no means over-sceptical writer, who seems to have had the means of ascertaining Cavallier’s opinions when the latter was in England. (A Short View of the Pretended Spirit of Prophecy, London, 1708, pp. 9, 16. See also A Preservative against the False Prophets of the Times, by Mark Vernons, London, 1708, p. 72; and Clavis Prophetica, London, 1707, pp. 8, 9.) As regards Colonel Cavallier himself, we have to note (1) that in the history of the Cevennes disturbances, attributed to him and probably drawn up from recollections of his conversations, not a word on the subject occurs; and that the only direct testimony to the occurrence that we have from him, as far as I can discover, is the phrase, “Cela est vrai,” applied to the fire of Clary, “et d’autres choses de cette nature” (Memoires pour Servir, &c, p. 10);² (2) that even supposing he was an eye-witness, it nowhere appears that he examined Clary after the ordeal, and ascertained that his clothes and hair were unsinged; and, as Hutchinson remarks, the fire may have been “a fire of straw, that is no sooner kindled but it is out again.” And in fact, in the Histoire des Troubles des Cevennes, by A. Court (Villefranche, 1760), p. 442, the author professes to have found, from information gathered at the spot, that “(1) Clary ne séjourna pas dans le feu; (2) il y entra deux fois; (3) il se brûla au col du bras, et fut obligé de s’arrêter au lieu de Pierredon, pour se fair panser.”

I confine myself to this single case, which bears directly on my discussion of evidence in Chapter IV.; but since no topic has been a greater favourite in the modern literature of the “supernatural” than the phenomena of the Cevennes, it may be useful to add that probably no chapter of history offers equal facilities for studying the natural genesis of modern miracles.

Page 127, line 16. For wonder-mongerer read wonder-monger.

Page 140, last sentence of note. Since this was written, a few other instances have been included where it is possible, but not certain, that the 12 hours’ limit was exceeded. It was exceeded in case 138, and possibly in case 165.

Page 145, last sentence. Since this was printed, some further cases have been received of considerable exaggeration of the closeness of a coincidence, which should be added to the examples mentioned in the note.

(1) An informant sent us a sworn affidavit to the effect that, in January, 1852, when returning from China on board the “Pilot,” and near the Cape, he had a vision of his sister, and learnt on his arrival in England that she had died “about the time” of the vision. We find, from an examination of various newspapers, that the “Pilot” was in the East Indies up to December, 1851, and was at Devonport in March, 1852; so that she may well have been near the Cape in January, 1852. But we find from the Register of Deaths that the sister died on June 29, 1851, at which date, as we learn from the Admiralty, the “Pilot” was at Whampoa. It is not likely that our informant was mistaken as to his own experience having taken place on the return voyage, and shortly before his arrival in England. What happened, we may surmise, is that he was told, when he arrived after a long absence, that his sister had lately died; and that on the strength of his vision, he assumed or gradually came to imagine, that the death had happened only several weeks before, instead of several months.

(2) A gentleman gave us a striking account of a phantasm of a friend, then in the Transvaal war, who appeared in his room early one morning, and announced that he had been shot through the right lung. Such a hallucination being absolutely unique in our informant’s experience, he noted the time—4.10 a.m.—by a clock on the mantelpiece, and waited feverishly during the hours that elapsed before he could see a newspaper at his club. He found no news of the war. In the course of the day he mentioned his vision and his disquietude to an acquaintance at the club. The next morning he saw, in the first paper that he took up, the announcement that his friend had been killed—shot through the right lung, as it afterwards proved—at an hour (as he calculated) closely coincident with that of his vision. We found, however, from the London Gazette, that the battle in which this officer was killed did not begin till 9.30 a.m.; and the death took place at least two hours later, which would be between 9 and 10 a.m. in England. Clearly, therefore, the vision must have preceded the death by some hours, if they occurred on the same day. But an examination of the newspapers makes it seem very likely that the vision fell on the day after the death. The battle took place on Friday, and was announced in the Saturday papers; but the death was not announced in the morning papers till Monday, and the vision which is represented as having occurred on the day next before the announcement of the death may more easily be supposed to have occurred on the second day than on the third day before—i.e., on the Saturday, not the Friday morning. As to the statement that the papers contained no war-news on the morning of the vision, that is a point on which our informant’s memory might easily get wrong, as they did not contain what he searched them for.

(3) An account signed by three witnesses of unimpeachable character, and purporting to be a statement made to them on Sept. 7, 1859, by T. Crowley, of Dinish Island, records a hallucination which he experienced on Saturday, Aug. 13, and afterwards connected with the unexpected death of his daughter, Ellen, which took place at a distance a few hours earlier. This daughter had been an inmate of a Deaf and Dumb Asylum. From the secretary of this institution we learnt that the day of her death was Sunday, July 24, 1859; and we procured a certificate of her burial on the following day. It is probable that those who took down the statement got an idea that the coincidence was a close one, and unconsciously forced the wrong date on an uneducated witness.

(4) Two letters have been handed to us, written by a husband to his wife on Nov. 7 and Dec. 28, 1874. The first letter describes an overpowering impression of calamity at home which the writer experienced, during a voyage, on Friday, Nov. 6, and which he immediately mentioned to a friend, who has given us full written confirmation of the fact. In that week the writer of the letters lost a child, who died, as we find from the Register of Deaths, on Tuesday, Nov. 3. Yet the second letter, written after the news of the death had reached the father, says, “It is very strange, but the very time—day and hour—of our boy’s death, I could not sleep,” and then follows another account of the very experience which was before described (and undoubtedly correctly) as having happened on the night of Nov. 6, three days after the death.

(5) A lady, who did not remember ever to have dreamt of death on any other occasion, told us that one night, in January, 1881, she had a remarkably vivid dream of the death of a relative whom she did not know to be ill or likely to die; and that on coming down in the morning she found the death announced in the Times as having occurred on the previous day. She did not (for family reasons) communicate the name of the person who died. But it is not very common for deaths to appear in the Times on the day after that on which they occurred. A list was accordingly made out of all the persons, corresponding with her description in sex and age, whose deaths were so immediately announced during that month; and the list, being submitted to her, her relative’s name proved not to be in it. The death must therefore have preceded the dream by more than 24 hours.

(6) Another informant gives an account of an interesting experience said to have occurred on the night of Sunday, May 6, 1866, and remarkably coinciding with the death of the narrator’s brother, lost with the “General Grant.” The fate of this ship was not known till January, 1868, when the Melbourne Argus published a “narrative of the survivors.” From this account we find that the wreck occurred on the night of Sunday the 13th, and that the death in question probably occurred on the morning of the 14th; which, allowing for longitude, would closely correspond with the time of the experience in England, supposing that our informant’s date was wrong by a week. This may very likely have been the case, as he explains that all he is clear about is that the day was a Sunday in May which he spent at a particular place. But unfortunately he had said in a former letter that the date May 6 was impressed on his mind by its being his own birthday; and that statement cannot, of course, be ignored; although he makes it tolerably clear that he really only inferred long afterwards that that was the day, because he knew for certain that on his birthday he was at the place where the experience occurred.

Pages 149–51. The following instructive instance of the difference between first-hand and second-hand evidence shows how easily a spurious telepathic narrative may grow up. We received a second-hand account to the effect that a friend of our informant, as she was returning from a walk, saw her sister on the doorstep just entering the house, entered herself a few moments after, was told by the servant that her sister had not been out, went upstairs, and found her dying from a sudden fit. The first-hand account, which had been given to us some years before, contains every one of these facts, (modifying one of them by the statement that the sister died “within 12 hours” after,) but adds just two more. “I, being very blind, thought¹ I saw her before me.” “I probably mistook the door, there being two on the same doorstep as mine.” How completely the aspect of the case is altered by these few additional words, appears in the most natural way from the sentences that follow. The second-hand account says, “She looked upon this as an apparition, sent to her to break the sudden shock,” &c. The first-hand account says, “I never imagined I had really seen an apparition; but it certainly was a merciful mistake, as it in a certain sense broke the shock to me,” &c.

Page 154, second paragraph. The particular form of exaggeration in second-hand evidence, which represents what was really only a dream as that far rarer and more striking phenomenon—a waking hallucination—is exemplified in connection with one of the narratives quoted later, No. 429. The first-hand account, it will be seen, describes the experience simply as a dream; Aubrey (Miscellanies, London, 1696, p. 60) recounts it as a case of apparition.

Page 156, last part of note. The publication of this book has led to the verication of the incident here described. The gentleman concerned—Mr. G. H. Dickson, of 17, Winckley Street, Preston—has sent me (Dec. 22, 1886) an account which differs from the second-hand report in two points only:—the woman was not actually crushed to death, though Mr. Dickson “was told, before leaving the station, that her injuries would be fatal”; and his wife did not describe her experience to him immediately on his arrival, but later in the day—whether before or after his mention of the scene they do not now remember.

Page 158, line 1. “No cases are given which are not first-hand.” Cases 256 and 257 are exceptions; but see Vol. II., p. 83.

Page 167, line 1 of note. “The suppressed names have in all cases been given to us in confidence.” In the Supplement there are seven exceptions to this rule. Five of them are cases which have been previously published on apparently reliable authority, but which the death of the person responsible for them has prevented us from tracing to their source;” the sixth is a MS. case of the same description; and in the seventh, our informant, though perfectly remembering the circumstances of his connection with the original witness, cannot recall his name. In a very few other cases the name of the agent has not been learnt.

Page 206, note. Some independent evidence has been received as to the manner of Captain Collyer’s death. An advertisement was inserted for us in the Daily Picayune, the leading New Orleans newspaper, offering a small reward for definite information as to the fatal accident on the “Alice.” For some months no information was given; but on Jan. 6, 1886, the editor wrote to us as follows:—“To-day a party called at the Picayune office, and made the following statement: ‘My name is J. L. Hall. I was a striker on the steamer “Red River” at the time she ran into the “Alice,” John Collyer, master, at a point about 20 miles above New Orleans. The accident occurred at 10 o’clock at night, in January, 1856. The day of the month I do not remember. The “Red River” was bound up stream, and the “Alice” bound down. The collision broke the starboard engine of the “Alice” and stove in her upper guards and boiler deck. As soon as possible the “Red River” went to the assistance of the “Alice,” when one of the crew of the disabled boat remarked that the captain had been killed. On investigation, Captain Collyer was found lying on his back on the starboard side of the boiler deck of his boat, with a severe wound in the head and life extinct. The crew of the “Alice,” all of whom were negroes, stated that Captain Collyer had been killed by the collision, but the officers of the “Red River” thought otherwise, as the wound in his (Captain Collyer’s) head appeared to have been made before the two boats met, and the blood on the deck was coagulated. Probably not more than 10 minutes elapsed from the time the collision took place until the body of Captain Collyer was viewed by the officers of the “Red River.” After helping the “Alice” to make repairs, the “Red River” proceeded on her voyage. I cannot say positively, but I do not think the killing of Captain Collyer was ever investigated.’ ”¹

It will be seen that there is a suggestion here that the death preceded the collision; and if this was so, it is an additional reason for supposing the coincidence with Mrs. Collyer’s experience to have been extremely close; for the witness had no idea why the evidence was wanted, and cannot have adjusted his account to a narrative of which he knew nothing. If his idea is correct, then there is no reason to suppose (as I have too hastily done in p. 206, note) that he has made a mistake as to the hour of the collision.

Page 248, case 49. The following is a corroborative account from Mrs. Arundel, who wrote from Maniton, Colorado, on April 1, 1886:—

“Not being very well, I was lying on the sofa (not asleep, for I had my baby sitting on the floor beside me, playing). Mr. Arundel was away on a sailing excursion with some friends, and I did not expect his return for some days. It seemed to me that I distinctly heard him call me by name, ‘Maggie,’ a slight pause and again ‘Maggie.’ The voice seemed far off and yet clear, but the tone such as he would use if needing me. The impression was so distinct that I rose and went out on to the porch with the thought, ‘Can they possibly have returned sooner for some reason?’ and I so fully expected to see him there that I went back into the house with a feeling of disappointment and some anxiety, too, feeling so sure I had heard his voice. No one was in the house, my servant being out. When my husband came home, he was much startled to find how exactly his experience on that Sunday afternoon corresponded with my vivid impressions. It could not have been mere coincidence. I must add that I mentioned my experience to Mr. Arundel before he had spoken to me of his.

“I have had impressions more than once, but never a false one. When Mr. Arundel first crossed to America he met with a severe storm. The night that the ship was in great danger (though it is impossible to define how), I knew and felt that it was so. I mentioned it to my friends, who ridiculed the fancy; nevertheless, the time corresponded precisely.¹

“MARGUERITE ARUNDEL.”

Page 249, case 52. Dr. and Mme. Ollivier are both now deceased.

Page 261, note. On vivâ voce examination of the witnesses, it seems probable that Portugal did enter into the impression; but Mrs. Wilson, differing from her husband, thinks he knew that his brothers were going there—which certainly commends itself as the probable explanation of that detail. We had the door, which has been repainted, brought up to London, in order that the paint might be carefully removed. The expert whom we employed to do this told us that it was very improbable that the pencil marks would have resisted the action of turpentine and the friction of the repainting; and nothing relating to the incident was discovered.

Page 304, bottom. Some further returns, received since this page was printed, leave unaltered the proportion stated.

Page 306, line 18. After “death” insert “dreamt by any previously specified individual.” Lines 23 and 26. For 1/27 read 1/26. Line 28. After “will” insert “on an average, if chance alone rules.”

Page 367, note. Visions of spectral funerals are mentioned by W. Howells, Cambrian Superstitions, pp. 54-6, 64; and by Wirt Sikes, British Goblins, pp. 231-2. An apparently telepathic instance, recorded in a collection of Border legends made by a Mr. Wilkie, may be found in W. Henderson’s Folk-lore of the Northern Counties of England and the Borders, p. 29.

Page 394, note. It is true that Isaak Walton’s account represents Dr. Donne as declaring that he was certainly awake; but Walton is a third-hand witness. See p. 154, second paragraph, and the above remarks thereon.

Page 408, case 154. Asked by her daughter to say “whether she remembered anything particular taking place at home” on the night of the death, Mrs. Thompson wrote as follows, on June 30, 1886:—

“82, Talbot Street, Moss-side, Manchester.

“I remember distinctly my daughter coming to my room several times asking me if I had called her, or if I knew who had called her, the night during which my nephew, Harry Suddaby, died.

“MARY THOMPSON.”

Page 479. Since this page was printed, I have received another instance of hallucinations voluntarily originated. A lady who has had a scientific training tells me that one bright June day, two years ago—when lying ill in bed, but with her mind especially active—she saw the gradual formation, on the background of the blind, of a statuesque head, which then changed into another. “I tired myself calling the pictures up again during the afternoon. They seemed as clear as if real, but after the first flash I was conscious of a mental effort with regard to them. Banishment was very easy; it only needed a relaxed tension.”

To the cases mentioned in the note should be added Dr. Abercrombie’s description of a gentleman (not personally known to him) who “had the power of calling up spectral figures at his will, by directing his attention steadily to the conception of his own mind; and this may either consist of a figure or a scene which he has seen, or it may be a composition created by his imagination. But though he has the faculty of producing the illusion, he has no power of banishing it; and when he has called up any particular spectral figure or scene, he never can say how long it may continue. The gentleman is in the prime of life, of sound mind, in good health, and engaged in business. Another of his family has been affected in the same manner, though in a slighter degree.” (Inquiries concerning the Intellectual Powers, 1838, p. 363.)

Pages 497–8. Chap. XI., § 2. The compatibility of sensory hallucinations, even of a very pronounced sort, with sound bodily and mental health is illustrated in the passage just quoted from Abercrombie.

Page 503, lines 17, 18. The statement that hallucinations of the sane and healthy, representing non-human objects, seem to be “rarely if ever” grotesque or horrible, is rather too sweeping. An exception should at any rate be made for certain endemic hallucinations. (See Vol. II., p. 189, note.)

Page 514, first paragraph. Some further examples of auditory hallucinations probably due to expectancy may be found in Howells’ Cambrian Superstitions (Tipton, 1831), p. 65. See also Sikes’s British Goblins, p. 229.

Page 534, case 199. The account, confirmed by Mr. B. in 1883, was written in or before 1876. Mrs. B. writes, on Dec. 31, 1886:—“I perfectly recollect the occasion of Mrs. ——’s death, and that my husband for a whole week was considerably concerned about her. My husband mentioned the vision the same morning, at the time it occurred, and we did not hear of the death till seven or eight days afterwards.” The death could not be traced in the register at Somerset House; but on inquiring of the coroner of the district where it occurred, we find that it took place exactly as described, on April 9, 1873, which, however, was a Wednesday, not a Saturday. The mistake as to the day of the week seems neither to increase nor to decrease the probability that Mr. and Mrs. B. were able, after the short interval which elapsed before they heard the news, correctly to identify the day of the vision with that of the death.

Page 546, lines 14–16. Mr. Keulemans’ statement that his little boy’s fringe could not have grown to its usual length in a month might be questioned. But on my pointing this out to him, he explained that (being struck by the fact that the hair, as he saw it in his vision, was just as he had been accustomed to see it) he had expressly asked his mother-in-law what was the state of the child’s hair at the time of his death; and she had said that he “had very little hair—that it grew straight upright, and that he had no fringe when he died.” Mr. Keulemans has no difficulty in accepting this description, as he has recently made experiments with two of his children, aged 4 and 6, with a result that entirely accords with it. The rate at which hair grows seems to differ greatly in different people.

Page 548, note. To the case mentioned add Mr. Wilkie’s narrativi referred to above in connection with p. 367. Other possible examples of the bizarre investiture of a telepathic impression may be found in Kelly’s Curiosities of Indo-European Traditions and Folk-Lore, p. 104; and in G. Waldron’s Description of the Isle of Man, pp. 69-70,—a case to which we have a close parallel on good, but not first-hand, authority. See also Paul Sébillot’s Traditions de la Haute Bretagne, Vol. I., pp 265-9.

Page 558, line 23. Major (now Colonel) Borthwick writes on Dec. 22, 1886, from the Chief Constable’s Office, County Buildings, Edinburgh, that he is under the impression that Captain Russell Colt mentioned his experience to the party at breakfast on the morning after it occurred.

Page 559, case 211. In conversation, the narrator mentioned that the boots of the figure appeared clean, though it was pouring with rain; and that the stick which she afterwards recognised had a silver pomme, not a curved handle. She was noticing the passage of time, as her father had to catch a train that afternoon. She added some details which increase the probability that the dying man’s thoughts were running on her father at the last. As to the fact that it was she who was the percipient, and not her father, see Vol. II., pp. 268, 301; and compare cases 192, 225, 242, 307, 660.

___________________

The following “transitional” case is a fresh specimen of the rare and most important class to which Nos. 13, 14, 15, 16, 685, and 686 belong; and is further of interest as being directly due to the publication of this book. The receipt of it justifies us in hoping that we may encounter more like it. On November 16th, 1886, the Rev. C. Godfrey, of 5, The Goffs, Eastbourne, wrote to Mr. Podmore as follows:—

“I was so impressed by the account on p. 105, that I determined to put the matter to an experiment.

“Retiring at 10.45, I determined to appear, if possible, to [a friend], and accordingly I set myself to work, with all the volitional and determinative energy which I possess, to stand at the foot of her bed. I need not say that I never dropped the slightest hint beforehand as to my intention, such as would mar the experiment, nor had I mentioned the subject to her. As the ‘agent,’ I may describe my own experiences.

“Undoubtedly the imaginative faculty was brought extensively into play, as well as the volitional; for I endeavoured to translate myself, spiritually, into the room, and to attract her attention, as it were, while standing there. My effort was sustained for perhaps 8 minutes, after which I felt tired, and was soon asleep.

“The next thing I was conscious of was meeting the lady next morning, (i.e., in a dream, I suppose?) and asking her at once if she had seen me last night. The reply came ‘Yes.’ ‘How?’ I inquired. Then in words strangely clear and low, like a well-audible whisper, came the answer, ‘I was sitting beside you.’ These words, so clear, awoke me instantly, and I felt I must have been dreaming; but on reflection, I remembered what I had been ‘willing’ before I fell asleep; and it struck me, ‘This must be a reflex action from the percipient.’

“My watch showed 3.40 a.m. The following is what I wrote immediately in pencil, standing in my night-dress:—‘As I reflected upon those clear words, they struck me as being quite intuitive—I mean subjective, and to have proceeded from within, as my own conviction, rather than a communication from anyone else.¹ And yet I can’t remember her face at all, as one can after a vivid dream!’

“But the words were uttered in a clear, quick tone, which was most remarkable, and awoke me at once.

“My friend, in the note with which she sent me the enclosed account of her own experience, says: ‘I remember the man put all the lamps out soon after I came upstairs, and that is only done about a quarter to 4.’”

Mr. Godfrey went next morning to see someone who resided in the same house as Mrs. ——, and was leaving, when “she called out to me from the window that she had something special to tell me; but being very busy, I could not return again into the house, and replied to the effect that it would keep. I am not quite certain now ² whether it was on the afternoon of the same day, or later in the morning, that she called. I asked her, as usual [for she suffered from neuralgia], if she had had a good night, and she at once commenced to narrate as I have told you. When she had told me all, I begged her at once to go home and write it down. The account which I sent to you was the result; and it compared accurately with a few scribbled notes in pencil which I had hastily jotted down as she was relating it to me originally.”

The following is the percipient’s account:—

“Yesterday, viz., the morning of Nov. 16,1886, about half-past 3 o’clock, I woke up with a start, and an idea that someone had come into the room. I also heard a curious sound, but fancied it might be the birds in the ivy outside. Next I experienced a strange, restless longing to leave the room and go downstairs. This feeling became so overpowering that at last I rose, and lit a candle, and went down, thinking if I could get some soda-water it might have a quieting effect. On returning to my room, I saw Mr. Godfrey standing under the large window on the staircase. He was dressed in his usual style, and with an expression on his face that I have noticed when he has been looking very earnestly at anything. He stood there, and I held up the candle and gazed at him for 3 or 4 seconds in utter amazement; and then, as I passed up the staircase, he disappeared. The impression left on my mind was so vivid that I fully intended waking a friend who occupied the same room as myself; but remembering I should only be laughed at as romantic and imaginative, refrained from doing so.

“I was not frightened at the appearance of Mr. Godfrey, but felt much excited and could not sleep afterwards.”

In conversation with Mrs. —— (Nov. 22, 1886), Mr. Podmore learnt that she is a good sleeper, and not given to waking at nights. She does not remember ever before having experienced anything like the feeling which she had on first waking up. She was at the bottom of the stairs when she saw Mr. Godfrey’s figure, which appeared on the landing, about 11 steps up. It was quite distinct and life-like at first,—though she does not remember noticing more than the upper part of the body; as she looked, it grew more and more shadowy, and finally faded away. It must be added that she has seen in her life two other phantasmal appearances, which represented a parent whom she had recently lost. But a couple of experiences of this sort, coming at a time of emotional strain, cannot be regarded as a sign of any abnormal liability to subjective hallucinations (see p. 510); and even if she was destined anyhow to experience one other, the chances against its representing one particular member of her acquaintance, at the very time when he happened for the first time in his life to be making the effort above described, would be at least many hundreds of thousands to 1.

We requested Mr. Godfrey to make another trial, without of course giving Mrs. —— any reason to expect that he would do so. He made a trial at once, thinking that we wanted the result immediately, though he himself thought the time unsuitable; and this was a failure. But on Dec. 8, 1886, he wrote as follows:—

“My friend Mrs. —— has just been in, and given me an account of what she experienced last night; she is gone home to write it out for you, and it will be enclosed with mine. I can state that I have not attempted one experiment since I last communicated with you; therefore there are no failures to record. I was at Mrs. ——’s house last evening, and she testifies this morning that she had not the faintest suspicion that I intended attempting another experiment. The first words she used on seeing me this morning were (laughingly) ‘Well, I saw you last night, anyway.’

“All the interest, as on the former occasion, of course lies with the percipient. I may simply explain that I acted as on the former occasion—viz., concentrated my attention on the percipient, while I was undressing; then devoted some 10 minutes, when in bed, to intense effort to transport myself to her presence, and make my presence felt both by voice and touch,—viz., placing my hand upon the percipient’s head. Then I fell asleep, slept well, and was conscious of nothing sufficiently vivid to awake me.

“Directly I awoke at my usual time, about 6.40 a.m., I guessed that I had succeeded, because I instantly remembered that I had dreamt (as last time) of meeting the lady next day, and asking her the same question—viz., whether she had seen me, and the answer was, ‘Yes, I saw you indistinctly.’ This reflex action is very important, and I would undertake to tell, on any occasion, whether I had failed or succeeded. The words of reply (above) were written down by me on paper¹ before hearing the percipient’s account.

“This case is, I think, very instructive, because of the sound of voice, as well as of sight.”

Mr. Godfrey adds that Mrs. ——, though she appeared in good spirits, had been “frightened and a little unnerved”; and that he should not feel justified in repeating the experiment.

The percipient’s account, written on Dec. 8, 1886, is as follows:—

“Last night, Tuesday, Dec. 7th, I went upstairs at half-past 10. I remember distinctly locking the bed-room door, which this morning, to my astonishment, was unlocked. I was soon asleep, and had a strange dream of taking flowers to a grave. Suddenly I heard a voice say ‘Wake,’ and felt a hand rest on the left side of my head. (I was lying on the right side.) I was wide awake in a second, and heard a curious sound in the room, something like a Jew’s harp. I felt a cold breath streaming over me, and violent palpitation of the heart came on; and I also distinctly saw a figure leaning over me. The only light in the room was from the lamp outside, which makes a long line on the wall over the wash-stand. This line was partly obscured by the figure. I turned round at once, and the hand seemed to slip from my head to the pillow beside me. The figure was stooping over me, and I felt it leaning up against the side of the bed. I saw the arm resting on the pillow the whole time it remained. I saw an outline of the face, but it seemed as if a mist were before it. I think the time when it came must have been about half-past 12. It had drawn the curtain of the bed slightly back, but this morning I noticed it was hanging straight as usual. The figure was undoubtedly that of Mr. Godfrey. I knew it by the appearance of the shoulders and the shape of the face. The whole time it remained, there was a draught of cold air streaming through the room, as if both door and window were open. I heard the dining-room clock strike half-past something; and as I could not sleep again, but heard the clock strike hours and half-hours consecutively up to 5 o’clock, I think I am right in saying the time was half-past 12.”

I have drawn attention (pp. 165-6, and Vol. II., p. 170) to the fact that the first-hand evidence for telepathic experiences includes no reports of physical changes produced in the material world—which, if they occurred, would be impossible to account for by the hypothesis of a temporary psychical transference from one mind to another. A percipient may have the hallucination of seeing the door opening (p. 102, note); but the door not having really been moved, it of course is not afterwards found open. So, in the above account, the curtain, which seemed to the percipient to be shifted at the time of her experience, was found in its place in the morning. On the other hand, the door, which she says that she had locked, was found unlocked. On being questioned as to this, she replies that the door is habitually locked at night, and that she does not walk in her sleep; but she thinks it probable that, after locking the door, she left the room to get some matches, and that she omitted to lock it again on her return. If anyone, after this, should be inclined to connect the unlocking with the apparition, I would suggest to him that a “ghost” which has shown its capacity to walk through a closed hall-door would, on finding a bed-room door locked on the inside, be more likely to walk through it than to unlock it.

¹ See, for instance, the Histoire des Camisards (London, 1754), p. 333, note. The view of Cavallier there cited from De Brueys’ Histoire du Fanatisme (Utrecht, 1737), need not be discounted because in the same work he is called a scélérat; that being De Brueys’ generic term for a Camisard leader.

² No further testimony of Cavallier’s on the subject seems to have been known to the author of the Examen du Théâtre Sacré des Cevennes (London, 1708, p. 34). He is not even stated to have been present, except in the depositions of the discredited witnesses; but on this point they may probably be trusted, as falsehood would have been at once exposed.

¹ Thought is italicised in the original: all the other italics are mine.

¹ The man who gave this account doubtless received the reward of a few do11ars which had been placed in the editor’s hands. In only one other instance has any payment been made to a witness: in that case the evidence had been spontaneously given, partly in writing and partly viva voce, and the payment was simply for the time occupied in drawing up a more complete written statement.

¹ An impression of this sort, occurring at what may naturally have been a time of anxiety, has no evidential weight. The distinctly auditory character of the more recent experience places it in quite a different category.

¹ At first sight, this seems inconsistent with the idea of the “reflex” or reciprocal action in the preceding paragraph. But Mr. Godfrey explains what he means as follows:—” I was dreaming: reflection convinced me that the particular words were not uttered in course of natural dream, but by reflex [reciprocal] action: also that they proceeded from myself, and not from any one standing over my bed in the room. It was from any one else’ that confused my meaning. I meant any one in the room, not any one in another house: from her they clearly did proceed.” There does not seem, however, to be any such proof of reciprocal action as Mr. Godfrey supposes; no reason appears why his dream should not have been purely subjective.

² The letter here quoted was written to me on Jan. 13, 1887. Mr. Podmore says that it entirely accords with Mr. Godfrey’s and Mrs.—’s independent vivâ voce accounts given on the previous Nov. 22. The reason why these details were not included in Mr. Podmore’s notes was that at the moment he was under the impression that they had been mentioned in Mr. Godfrey’s first letter, which was in my possession.

¹ As to this note, and the one made on the former occasion, Mr. Godfrey writes, “I am very sorry that I never kept the scraps of newspaper edge upon which I jotted down my reflections, and the words which reached me, in the middle of the night. I jotted them down to exclude any invalidation of the inferences on score of defective memory; not thinking it needful to retain them as a check, when I had copied from them into my letters, they were committed to the flames.”