Disease, by weakening the physical powers, is often conducive to a wonderful sensitiveness. In some cases of fever, the senses are wrought to an astonishing acuteness, especially hearing, the patient being disturbed by even the ticking of a watch in a remote room. The inner perception at other times is made equally acute. If the pulsations of sound become so magnified and painful, the waves of thought in the psycho-ether may become equally magnified, and reproduce the thoughts which sent them forth to the mind of the recipient. Many of the facts given in illustration of other phases of sensitiveness apply equally well here.
“Mademoiselle N—— was convalescing after a very prolonged illness, which had reduced her to a state of extreme weakness. All her family had gone to church, when a violent storm arose. Mademoiselle N—— went to the window to watch its effects; the thought of her father suddenly struck her, and, under existing circumstances, she felt much uneasiness. Her imagination soon persuaded her that her father had perished. In order to conquer her fears she went into a room in which she was accustomed tosee him in his arm-chair. On entering, she was very much surprised at seeing him in his place, and in his accustomed attitude. She immediately approached to inquire how he had come in, and in addressing him, attempted to place her hand on his shoulder, but encountered only space. Very much alarmed, she drew back, and turning her head as she left the room, still saw him in the same attitude. More than half an hour elapsed from the time she first saw the apparition. During this time Mademoiselle N——, who was convinced that it was an illusion, entered the room several times, and carefully examined the arrangement of the objects, and especially of the chair.” (De Boismont, page 276.)
Nothing had occurred to her father, and the appearance may be adequately accounted for on psychometric grounds. The chair was vibrant with the influence of the father, and those vibrations constantly carried out with them his image.
Mrs. Denton, an extremely sensitive person, relates an experience which shows how exactly similar the impressibility which may be called normal in contradistinction to that induced by disease. On entering a car from which the passengers had gone to dinner, she was surprised to see the seats occupied.
“Many of them were sitting perfectly composed, as if, for them, very little interest was attached to this station, while others were already in motion (a kind of compressed motion), as if preparing to leave. I thought this somewhat strange, and was about turning to find a seat in another car, when a second glance around showed me that the passengers, who had appeared so indifferent were really losing their identity, and, in a moment, were invisible to me. I had had time to note the personal appearance of several; and taking a seat I awaitedthe return of the passengers, thinking it more than probable I might in them find the prototypes of the faces and forms I had a moment before so singularly beheld. Nor was I disappointed. A number of those who returned to the cars I recognized as being, in every particular, the counterparts of their late but transient representatives.”
Mary Dana Shindler, in theVoice of Truth, says:
“An aunt of ours was very ill with fever, and her only brother, commanding a packet ship between Havana and Charleston, was daily expected; but we feared he would arrive too late to see his sister in earth-life. One morning while we were watching at her bedside, she suddenly sat up, clapped her hands, and exclaimed joyfully, ‘Brother William has come!’ We all thought her mind wandering; but in about ten minutes he arrived at her house, and from that moment she began to recover. She could not tell us how she discovered that he had arrived, but only said, ‘I knew it; I heard, andfelthim.’”
Bishop Bowman, in a sermon delivered in Philadelphia, narrated a remarkable experience, which shows how near the state of death approaches trance or clairvoyance. The usual light treatment of the fact of the result of cerebral disturbance is far from a satisfactory solution:
“On my return from Japan, I preached in California, and probably overworked myself. The last Sunday in February, after holding divine service in my St. Louis Church, I returned home, when I was immediately taken sick with a lingering fever, which the physicians predicted would end fatally. At this point I seemed to fall into a kind of ecstasy, and I did not know whether I was alive or dead. I imagined I was on board a magnificent ship, and heardthe captain say, ‘Stop her,’ which I thought to be the voice of my Divine Master, when my young eighteen-months-old child, who had died twenty years ago, came to me and said that she had heard that I was coming, and had come to meet me. After some conversation which I do not recollect, she said, ‘Do you think I have grown, papa?’ She then arose in a form of glory I have never before witnessed, and never again expect to see until I die, and then returned to her usual state, saying that she came in that shape to see if I would know her. She said that many other friends had inquired after me, and that an old gentleman and lady had taken her up and kissed her, saying that her papa was their boy. I then asked her where her mama was. ‘Oh, she is away doing something for the Lord, but will meet us on our arrival at the wharf.’ It was a season of great preciousness to me. It seems to me that I have come back from the other world; and although it is peculiar for me to say I was dead, it seems to me I was not in the body.”
The testimony of those who have approached nearest to death, and have been brought back to life, favors, if not proves, that at that great crisis, as the senses fail, spiritual sensitiveness becomes acute, and the perceptions merge into a universal consciousness. A gentleman while swimming failed to sustain himself, and before assistance could reach him, sank, as he supposed, to rise no more.
“Then he saw, as if in a wide field, the acts of his own being, from the first dawn of memory until the time he entered the water. They were all grouped and ranged in the order of the succession of their happening, and he read the whole volume of existence at a glance; nay, its incidents and entities were photographed on his mind, illumined bylight, the panorama of the battle of life lay before him.” (“Sleep, Memory and Sensation,” page 43.)
Clairvoyance has, as thus appears, a retrospection, and is as able to see the past as the present, or previse the future. The element of time does not appear to enter into the cognition of events by this faculty. Everything is in the present, and the past is only distinguished by order of sequence.
A gentleman in Iowa related to me his experience while insensible from the effect of cold. He was overtaken by a fearful storm, such as sometimes sweep across the prairies, and, losing his way after hours of vain struggling, sank exhausted in a drift of snow. The past events of his life came in a panoramic show before him, but so rapidly moving, that from boyhood until that moment was as an instant; then came a sense of perfect physical happiness, and he began dimly to see the forms of those whom he had known while living, but were now dead. They grew more and more distinct, but just as they came near and were, as he thought, overjoyed to receive him, darkness came suddenly and great pain; the vision faded, and he became conscious of the presence of his friends who had rescued him, and were applying every measure to restore him to life. How near he had reached the boundary line, the “dead line” beyond, from which there is no return to the body, was shown by his crippled hands and feet.
It is a singular fact that no one has ever recovered from a near approach to this line, who does not tell the same tale of an exalted perception and intensification of the mental faculties. Sometimes this is exhibited by the recognition of an event then transpiring, with which the subject is intimately connected, as in the following, wherein the deaths of near relatives or friends are discerned:
It is a historical fact that Rev. Joseph Buckminster, who died in Vermont, in 1812, just before his death, announced that his distinguished son, Rev. J. S. Buckminster, was dead.
The Eaton (O.)Telegraphgives the following parallel case: “On Wednesday morning last, at four o’clock, Gen. John Quince breathed his last. But a few minutes after that, Joseph Deem, who also died on the 14th, aroused from his sleep, and said to his son John, who attended him, ‘Gen. Quince is dead.’ To this John replied, ‘You are mistaken, father, Gen. Quince is well, and goes by after his mail every day.’ ‘Yes,’ said Father Deem, ‘Gen. Quince is dead.’ Shortly after a neighbor came in, and said that Gen. Quince had suddenly died.”
Whenever the power of expression is retained, we see the development of clairvoyance at the approach of death. Sometimes the paralysis of the muscles prevents vocal expression, but where this is the case, the eyes show the ecstasy which the lifting of the vail from a new world only can give.
Mrs. Helen Willmans relates this touching story of the death of her child:
“From her birth she had been afraid of death. Every fiber of her body and soul recoiled from the thought of it.
“‘Don’t let me die!’ she said. ‘Don’t let me die! Hold me fast—I can’t go.’
“‘Jenny,’ I said, ‘you have two little brothers in the other world, and there are thousands of tender-hearted people over there, who will love and take care of you.’
“But she cried despairingly, ‘Don’t let me go. They are strangers over there.’
“But even as she was pleading her little hands relaxed their clinging hold from my waist, and liftedthemselves eagerly aloft; lifted themselves with such a straining effort that they raised the wasted body from its reclining position among the pillows. Her eyes filled with the light of divine recognition. They saw plainly something we could not see. But even at that supreme moment she did not forget to leave a word of comfort for those who gladly would have died in her place. ‘Mamma! mamma! they are not strangers. I am not afraid!’ And every instant the light burned more gloriously in her blue eyes, until at last it seemed as her soul leaped forth upon its radiant waves, and in that moment her trembling form relapsed among the pillows, and she was gone.”
Thus we perceive that sensitiveness, which is first manifested in the mesmeric state, breaks in at rare intervals, during wakefulness or sleep, as vivid impressions or dreams, arises to clairvoyance as the spirit and physical body are separated more and more, and reaches its most intense expression at the moment of death, when the union between the two is severed.
It is after this great event that the spiritual being, formed from attenuated substance, far beyond the horizon of the most ethereal known to the senses, is free from the environments of the physical body. It sees, hears, feels, with the organization of its new being, and is cognizant of a world unknown to the mortal senses.
The English Society for Psychical Research have given greater attention to thought transference than any other subject which has engaged its attention,claiming that if it be proved, it becomes the foundation for a working theory, co-ordinating a vast number of related facts and phenomena. It was the conclusion of the committee after numerous experiments, that thought reading was an established fact. The adage, “The devil is near when you talk about him,” is proven daily; for when an individual is going to a certain place expecting to meet certain ones, his thoughts go before him, and impress themselves. When those connected by intimate relations think of each other, their thoughts vibrate in responsive brains. Distance has inappreciable influence on the transference of thought. It may take place in the same room, or when the two persons are thousands of miles apart. As a personal experience I will relate one of many similar incidents which have awakened my attention to this wonderful phenomenon. Sitting by my desk one evening, suddenly as a flash of light, the thought came to write an article for theHarbinger of Light, published at Melbourne, Australia. I had by correspondence become acquainted with the editor, W. H. Terry, but there had been no letters passed for nearly a year. I had not thought of him or his journal, for I do not know how long a time, and I was amused at first with the idea of writing on the subject suggested. But the impression was so strong that I prepared and forwarded an article. Nearly two months passed before I received a letter from Mr. Terry requesting me to write an article on the subject, on which I had written, and making due allowance for time, the dates of our letters were the same. In our experience this crossing of letters answering each other, has twice occurred, the second by Mr. Terry answering a request of mine.
I have gathered a series of facts illustrative anddemonstrative, by their culminative evidence. If any one statement be questioned as improbable, we must consider the probabilities increase with each and every instance corroboratory, and when a constantly augmenting series continue in the same line, each number adding strength to the others, the probability becomes a certainty.
Dr. Nicolas, Count de Gonémys, of Corfu, gives his personal experience in March number, 1885, of theJournal of the Society for Psychical Research:
“In the year 1869 I was officer of health in the Hellenic army. By command of the War Office I was attached to the garrison of the Island of Zante. As I was approaching the Island in a steamboat, to take up my new position, and about two hours distance from the shore, I heard a sudden inward voice say to me over and over in Italian, ‘Go to Voterra.’ I had no association with the name of M. Voterra, a gentleman of Zante, with whom I was not even acquainted, although I had once seen him, ten years before. I tried the effect of stopping my ears, and of trying to distract myself by conversation with the bystanders, but all was useless, and I continued to hear the voice in the same way. At last we reached the land; I proceeded to my hotel and busied myself with my trunks, but the voice continued to harass me. After a time a servant came and announced to me that a gentleman was at the door who wished to speak to me at once. ‘Who is the gentleman?’ I asked. ‘M. Voterra,’ was the reply. M. Voterra entered, weeping violently, in uncontrollable distress, imploring me to follow him at once, and see his son who was in a dangerous condition. I found a young man in maniacal frenzy, naked in an empty room, and despaired of by all the doctors of Zante for the past five years.”
By magnetism Dr. Nicolas effected a perfect cure, the maniac becoming in the mesmeric state clairvoyant.
The following is by C. Ede, M. D., Guilford (J. S. P. R., July, 1882).
“Lady G. and her sister had been spending the evening with their mother, who was in her usual health and spirits when they left her. In the middle of the night the sister awoke in a fright, and said to her husband, ‘I must go to my mother at once; do order the carriage. I am sure she is ill.’ The husband, after trying in vain to convince his wife that it was only a fancy, ordered the carriage. As she was approaching the house where two roads met, she saw Lady G.’s carriage. When they met each asked the other why she was there. The same reply was made by both. ‘I could not sleep, feeling sure my mother was ill, and so I came to see.’ As they came in sight they saw their mother’s confidential maid at the door, who told them when they arrived, that their mother had been taken suddenly ill, and was dying, and had expressed an earnest wish to see her daughters.”
The daughters having so recently parted from their mother, made them peculiarly susceptible to her influence.
T. W. Smith, Ealing, W. England (J. S. P. R., July, 1882), had this experience, showing the close bonds which unite husband and wife:
“I left my house, ten miles from London, in the morning as usual, and in the course of the day was on the way to Victoria Street, when, in attempting to cross the road made slippery by the water cart, I fell, and was nearly run over by a carriage coming in an opposite direction. The fall and the fright shook me considerably, but beyond that I was uninjured.On reaching home, I found my wife waiting anxiously, and this is what she related to me: She was in the kitchen when she suddenly dropped, exclaiming, ‘My God, he’s hurt!’ Mrs. S. who was near her heard the cry, and both agreed as to the time, etc.”
The Rev. P. H. Newham (J. S. P. R., Feb. 1887), relates an extended series of experiments in will power. He was able while in church to draw the attention of any one in the audience by simply directing his thoughts to them. He experimented at a series of concerts, selecting those in front of him so that they could not catch his eye by simply raising their heads. “It was very interesting,” he writes, “to see them first fidget about in their seats and at last turn their heads around and look about them, as if to see whence the uncomfortable feeling that influenced them proceeded.”
The LondonSpectatorfor Christmas, 1881, contains an interesting story by A. J. Duffield, of thought transference. The gist of this story is that a Mr. Strong went to Lake Superior and became foreman of the Franklin copper mine. He fell sick and would have died but for the care of a lady whose husband was a director of the mining company. She had him carried to her own house, and nursed him with kindest care until he recovered. Seven years after this event, when he had drifted away from the mines, he was sitting by himself one evening, when he suddenly saw this kind lady in a room with nothing in it, no fire, no food. She was calm and quiet, with the same face she had when she nursed him in the fever. He thereby was made deeply conscious that she was in distress, and sent her a most liberal amount of money by mail. The day after he received a letter from the lady, sayingthat her husband was sick, and that they were in great suffering, and asking for aid.
In this instance the mind of Capt. Strong was bound to his preserver with strong bonds, love, gratefulness and expectation of some time repaying his great obligation. It was in proper condition for the reception of such thoughts, while, on the other hand, under the pressure of suffering, the lady’s mind was in a condition to give force to the emanating thoughts.
TheSpringfield Homesteadpublished what it called an odd circumstance, but so far from being odd is of proverbially common occurrence. A Mrs. A. and her daughter called on their relative, Mrs. B., of Central Street. On their way thither they remarked how pleased they would be if Mrs. B.’s daughter, Mrs. L., of Hartford, could only be there too. This remark was repeated to Mrs. B., and she replied that her thoughts were similar. Then one of them recalled the old saying that the combined thoughts of three women can bring any one from any place, and the reply was made that if wishing would bring Mrs. L. she would surely come. Mrs. B. prepared strawberry cake, saying her daughter, Mrs. L., was fond of it, and that she was going to lay a plate for her just as though she were there. As they were sitting down to tea, the door bell rang and in came the much wished for Mrs. L., greatly to their surprise. When asked how she happened to come, she replied that she did not intend to do so until that day, and decided to do so because tormented with the impression that some one wanted to see her. She is not accustomed to come to Springfield, not having visited her sister before in a year.
Henry Watson, of Mill Village, Pa., was suddenly impressed that his services were needed at a certainpoint on French Creek. There was no assignable cause for his going, and he resisted it as a vagary. The impression, however, grew so strong that he yielded as to a charm. When within a short distance of the spot cries for help reached his ears. In the creek he found George Dowler and wife struggling for their lives. They had attempted to ford the creek, and missing the way were submerged. He was holding on to the horse while the swift current was carrying his wife to her death. Taking a boat, Watson rescued her from certain death. Had he not arrived at that very moment, she would have been inevitably drowned.
L. M. Hastings of Osceola, Iowa, had a son murdered near Grand Island, Neb. The night after the crime was committed he awoke about midnight with his attention fixed on an apparition at the foot of the bed. He saw the representation of two men with great distinctness, and something told him that they were the pictures of the murderers of his son. He studied them carefully until they faded out of sight, and then arose and wrote a description which was forwarded to the prosecuting attorney. It was found to be a thoroughly accurate description of the men who were then under arrest and who were, without doubt the guilty parties. Mr. Hastings had never seen these men nor received any description of them.
Transference of Thought and Pain.—Mrs. Arthur Severn, the distinguished landscape painter (J. S. P. R., March, 1884), writes of an accident to her husband which at once impressed itself on her:
“I woke with a start, feeling I had a hard blow on my mouth, and a distinct sense that I had been cut under my upper lip, and held my handkerchief to the part as I sat up in bed, and after a few seconds,when I removed it, I was astonished not to see any blood, and only then realized that it was impossible that anything could have struck me, and so I thought it was only a dream. I looked at my watch and saw it was seven, and finding Arthur (my husband) was not in the room, I concluded he had gone out on the lake for a sail as it was fine.
“At breakfast (half-past nine) Arthur came in rather late, and I noticed he rather purposely sat farther away from me than usual, and put his handkerchief to his lip in the way I had done. I said: ‘Arthur, why are you doing that? I know you have hurt yourself; but I’ll tell you why afterwards.’ He said: ‘Well, when I was sailing, a sudden squall came, throwing the tiller suddenly around, and it struck me a hard blow in the mouth under the upper lip and it has been bleeding a good deal and won’t stop.’ I then asked: ‘At what time did it happen?’ He answered: ‘It must have been about seven o’clock.’ I then told what had happened to me, much to his surprise and all who were at the table.”
Rev. J. M. Wilson, head master of Clifton College (inJ. S. P. R., March, 1884), presents a fact which, while admitting of telegraphic explanation, may be referred to a higher source:
“I was at Cambridge at the end of my second term in full health, boating, football playing, and the like, and by no means subject to hallucinations or morbid fancies. One evening I felt very ill, trembling with no apparent cause; nor did it seem to me at the time to be a physical illness, or chill of any kind. I was frightened; I was totally unable to overcome it. I remember a struggle with myself, resolving that I would go on with my mathematics, but it was in vain. I became convinced that I wasdying. I went down to the room of a friend, who was on the same staircase. He exclaimed at me before I spoke. He pulled out a whisky bottle and backgammon board, but I could not face it. We sat over the fire, and he brought some one else to look at me. Toward eleven, after some three hours, I got better, went to bed and after a time to sleep, and next morning was quite well. In the afternoon came a letter stating that my twin brother had died the evening before in Lincolnshire.”
Rev. Canon Warburton, Winchester, England (J. S. P. R., May 1884), relates the following, which is of interest as an example of transference of thought and of sensation:
“I went from Oxford to stay a day or two with my brother, then a barrister at 10 Fish Street, Lincoln’s Inn. When I reached his chambers I found a note on the table apologizing for his absence, and saying he had gone to a dance, and intended to be at home soon after one o’clock. Instead of going to bed, I dozed in an arm-chair, but started up wide awake exactly at one, ejaculating, ‘By Jove, he’s down!’ and seeing him coming out of the drawing room into the brightly illuminated landing, catching his foot in the edge of the top stair and falling head-long, just saving himself by his elbows and hands. (The house was one I had never seen, and I did not know where he was.) I again fell adoze for half an hour, and was awakened by my brother suddenly coming in and saying: ‘Ah! there you are! I have just had as narrow an escape of breaking my neck as I ever had in my life. Coming out of the ballroom, I caught my foot and tumbled full length down stairs.’”
The following is vouched for by Miss Millicent Ann Page, sister of the Rev. A. Shaw Page, Vicarof Lesly, England, to whom it was related by Mrs. Elizabeth Broughton, Edinburgh:
“Mrs. Broughton aroused her husband, telling him something dreadful had happened in France. He begged her to go asleep again. She assured him that she was not asleep when she saw what she insisted in then telling him. First, a carriage accident, which she did not see, but she saw the result: a broken carriage, collected crowd, a figure gently raised and carried into the nearest house, and then a figure lying on the bed, which she recognized as the Duke of Orleans. Gradually friends collected around the bed, among them several members of the royal family—the Queen, then the King—all tearfully, silently watching the dying Duke. One man, she could see his back, but did not know who he was, was a doctor. He stood bending over the Duke, feeling his pulse with his watch in his other hand. Then all passed away. In the morning she wrote down in her journal all she had seen. It was before the days of the telegraph, and two or more days passed before theTimesannounced the death of the Duke of Orleans.
“A short time after, she visited Paris, recognized the place of the accident, and received an explanation of her impression. The doctor who attended the Duke was an old friend of hers; and as he watched by the bed he said his mind was constantly occupied with her and her family. The reason, therefor, was the remarkable likeness between the members of her family and those of the royal family then present. ‘I spoke of you and yours when I reached home, and thought of you many times that evening,’ said the doctor. ‘The likeness between yourself and the royal family was never so strong. Here was a link between us, you see.’”
Certain dreams may be explained by thought-transference, which is liable to take place during the varying moods of slumber as while awake. Rev. J. C. Learned writes (J. S. P. R.): “It was in 1883 that I took charge of the Unitarian Church in Exeter, N. H. Five miles away, Rev. A. M. Bridge was preaching at Hampton Falls, with whom I sometimes exchanged pulpits. After a year or so he gave up the work in this little parish, and somewhat later entered upon an engagement in the town of East Marshfield, Mass., as the railroad runs, eighty miles from Exeter.
“On Wednesday, Dec. 13th, 1865, on waking in the morning, I remarked to my wife upon the very vivid and singular dream which I had had, and related it fully. I had seen Mr. Bridge taken suddenly and violently ill. He seemed to be in a school-room. He sank down helpless and was borne away by friendly hands. I was by him, and assisted others in whatever way I could. But he grew worse; the open air did not revive him; a leaden pallor soon spread over his features; peculiar spots which I had never seen before, like moles or discoloration of the skin, appeared upon his face, and after much suffering he died. Immediately after breakfast, and while we were still speaking of the dream, a ring at the door admitted Mr. Wells Healy, an old parishioner of Mr. Bridge, at Hampton Falls. I guessed the nature of his message. He had come to ask me to attend the funeral services of his former minister.
“I attended the funeral as requested. I learned from the family the particulars of his death, which coincided remarkably in several points with the dream already repeated to my wife, and when I looked at the dead man in his coffin, my attentionwas fixed by the peculiar spots on his face to which I have alluded, and which were stamped on my memory.”
Double Presence.—Appearance of Living Persons at a Distance.—It would appear that this projection of thought to distant localities may be so strong as to carry the appearance of the projector with it. This may be explained by the aid of psychometry, or by the actual projection of the psychic individuality, so as to give the impression of identity, and not only that, but to receive and retain impressions on the part of the projector. The double presence which has so perplexed the student of these mysteries thus admits of solution, and becomes a part of the fabric created by sensitiveness to thought impressions. These appearances of living persons as apparitions or ghosts, have been repeatedly employed as evidence of the subjectiveness of ghostly apparitions of the dead; that as one must be unreal so must the other. But this conclusion is unwarranted, as by the principles here advocated the apparitions of the living are under the same law as those of the dead.
It is possible for the independent clairvoyant at any time, in spirit, to visit distant localities and persons, and if the latter are sufficiently sensitive, they will recognize the clairvoyant’s presence. The phenomenon of “double presence,” in this manner can be produced, as somnambulism may be, by artificial means; that is through mesmerism or hypnotism.
Many remarkable stories are recorded of the double, some of which are unbelievable unless the principles heretofore stated are understood.
Josiah Gilbert, in theLondon Speculator, gives the following pleasing narrative:
“A son of a family named Watkinson, residing inLancashire, had gone to America. One summer Sunday afternoon, they were attending services and occupying a large square pew near the pulpit. It was hot, the door of the small building was wide open, and one of the party who sat looking down the aisle could see out into the meeting-house yard, which was shaded by tall trees. Suddenly, to his intense surprise, he saw the absent brother approaching through the trees, enter at the chapel door, walk up the aisle, come to the very door of the pew itself, and lay his hand upon it as though he would take a seat with them. At that moment others of the family saw him also, but at that instant he vanished.
“This strange occurrence naturally raised sad forebodings, but in course of time a letter arrived, and it appeared that the brother was alive and well. He was then written to and asked if anything peculiar had happened on that Sunday. He replied that it was odd that he should remember anything about a Sunday so long passed, but certainly something had happened on that Sunday. He had come in overpowered with heat and had thrown himself on his bed, fallen asleep and had a strange dream. He found himself among the trees of a country chapel; service was going on; he saw them all, the door being open, sitting in their pews; he walked up the aisle and put his hand on the pew door to open it, when he suddenly, and to his great chagrin, awoke.”
S. F. Deane, M. D., of Carlton, Neb., had a remarkable experience which he relates as follows:
“After my arrival in Nebraska, I made my home with my daughters. At the time I left Wisconsin, my wife was not well and I hesitated to leave her. After I had been absent about three weeks, I had retired to my room, which had a door opening intothe street. About two o’clock in the morning while awake, with sufficient light from a partially obscured moon to see distinctly any person in the room, fully conscious of all my surroundings, and with my face toward the door, I saw it open and a person step into the room, which I at once recognized as the exact image of my wife. She came directly across the room, knelt at my bedside, put her arms about my neck, kissed me and said she had been very sick but was better now. Then she said she must go and see Adelaide, and arose and passed across the room, to the door of our daughter’s room. She was gone a few minutes when she again came through the open bedroom door into my room, looked at me, as much as to say good-bye, passed out at the door, and was gone.
“While she was present a peculiar calmness came over me; but when she was gone a great anxiety took possession of me, and could I have taken a train, I should have at once started for home. But I at last resolved to await a letter, which came in due time from my son. He wrote: ‘Mother is quite sick, though better than night before last, when about half-past two or three o’clock in the morning we thought for twenty or thirty minutes she was dead. She lay insensible, pulsation ceased, or only fluttered at intervals, and respiration seemed suspended, but she rallied and is now in a fair way to recover.’ She did recover and enjoyed a fair degree of health.”
There is no limit to the facts of this class which might be collected. Enough have been here produced to show that coincidence offers a poor apology as an explanation. The student will observe also, that however carefully the facts are selected bearing on this one point of thought transference, it isimpossible, so intimately related are the branches of psychic science, to have them entirely free from the possibility of other explanations. Granting that thought may be transferred from one mortal to another, admits that a spirit may transfer its thoughts to a mortal also, and hence a spirit seeing a friend in distress may act as a messenger. But in such a case thought is transferred, and in the same manner. The sensitive on one side receives the pulsations of thought from the other, through and by means of the psychic ether.
It will be thus seen that there is no mystery in one mind becoming cognizant of the thoughts of another mind, for if in sympathy, such a result is sure to follow. As a lamp gives light, because it is able to set the light medium in motion, or give off waves therein, so the brain gives off waves, or is a pulsating center in the psychic-ether. These waves go outward and form the sphere of the individual, as the waves of light go out and form the sphere of light around an incandescent body.
To be recognized, they must strike against a sensitive or sympathetic brain, wherein they may be reproduced. By sympathetic, we mean one which, for want of a better term, we will say is similarly attuned. Thus, when two musical instruments are placed at some distance from each other, and one is played, if they are not attuned in harmony the other will give no response; but if they are, then when one is touched, the other answers note for note.
The brain, being a pulsating center, its thoughts, as they go out in waves, have to other brains, a tangible representation. The psychic-ether, pulsating with innumerable waves, may be regarded as a universal thought atmosphere, and the sensitive brainis able to gather from it thoughts and ideas which its pulsations express.
If any reliance can be placed on the observations of the most credible witnesses, whose evidence would be received on any other subject, and in law would be given power to decide on life or death, these facts of Thought Transference cannot be rejected. If they are received, they demand explanation. If thought passes from one mind to another, or, as it is often expressed, the will influences a distant person, it is self-evident that something passes from one to the other. What is this something? Facts conflict with the hypothesis of its being matter radiated from one individual to another, as light was once supposed to be transmitted. It passes too readily through vast thicknesses of solid matter, and is too instantaneous in its action, to consist of radiant particles. On the other hand, all of its phenomena show a striking relationship to light, heat and kindred forces.
How is this Influence Exerted?—Admitting that there is a psychic-ether, in which thinking produces waves, how does one individual influence another thereby? If the brain vibrates like the strings of a musical instrument, as no two are alike, no two vibrate alike. This is more than a mere illustration. Both depend on similar laws, for the string excites vibrations in the air, which are felt by the nerves of the tympanum of the ear. Thinking creates undulations in ether, which are impressed on other minds. The string of the instrument excites similar vibrations in contiguous strings; for the atmosphere transmits the waves of sound.
This is very beautifully shown by a simple experiment, which equally well illustrates the method bywhich mind influences mind. If a plate of glass is strewn with sand, and, while held in a horizontal position, a bow drawn across its edge, a musical sound will be produced from the vibration of the plate, and the sand, by the impulse, forms into various geometric lines, according to the note produced—each note giving rise to a figure peculiar to itself. So invariably is this the case that a piece of music might be accurately written from the forms assumed by the sand.
Now, if a piece of parchment or paper be stretched, with proper precautions, across the top of a large bell glass and strewn with sand, and the glass plate held over it horizontally, and the bow drawn across its edge, the forms assumed by the sand on the paper will accurately correspond with the forms on the glass. If the glass is slowly removed to greater and greater distances, the correspondence will continue until the distance becomes too great for the air to transmit the vibrations.
When a slow air is played on a flute near this apparatus, each note calls up a particular form in the sand, which the next note effaces and establishes its own. The motion of the sand will even detect sounds that are inaudible.
Professor Wheaton devised a means of beautifully illustrating this sympathy. If a sounding board is placed so as to resound to all the instruments of the orchestra, and connected by a metallic rod of considerable length with the sounding-board of a harp or piano, the instrument will accurately repeat the notes transmitted.
The nervous system, in its two-fold relation to the physical and spiritual being, is inconceivably more finely organized than the most perfect musical instrument, and is possessed of finer sensitiveness.
But it must not be inferred that all minds are receptive. Light falls on all substances alike, but is very differently affected. One class of bodies absorbs all but the yellow rays; another, all but the blue; another, all but the red, because these substances are so organized that they respond only to waves of the colors reflected.
Some individuals have the ear so organized that they can hear certain sounds, but are totally deaf to others. The waves of sound strike all tympanums alike; yet in these instances they are incapable of responding to certain waves. Some person who delight in music, although all the lower notes are plainly heard, as soon as the tune rises to a high key, can not hear a single sound. In others, this is reversed. The eye of some individuals is similarly arranged—some colors being undiscernible, while others are perceptible. The vibrations are the same in all these cases, but owing to peculiarities of organization are not felt. As musical instruments to respond must be attuned in harmony, so there must be correlated harmony between minds which transmit and receive thoughts. All minds give out vibrations, as all musical strings give out sounds; and as there must be a corresponding string to receive its notes, so there must be not only a sensitive but harmoniously attuned mind to receive the thought vibrations.
Individuals not mutually harmonious—at least in some point—do not excite a mental influence on each other; but if they are thus organized, they will influence each other. This is unavoidable, whether the will is excited or not; but if the stronger will is exerted, its power is proportionally greater, and it will magnetize the weaker; and the peculiar phenomena attending that mental state will be manifested.
It is not the body which magnetizes or is magnetized; it is the mind; and these effects are produced outside of the physical system. The fact that one person can magnetize another by the simple power of the will, though at a distance, is evidence that the mind in this exercise of power is independent of the body.
If we grant, for the sake of the argument, that there is a spirit back of the physical aspect of mortal life, it will be readily seen that all that has been said of the transference of thought between individuals, holds true between spiritual beings, as this transference at last resides in the spirit-being. As man is a spirit incarnated, differing in that respect only from a disembodied spirit, the body is the only obstacle between him and the spirits above him. Sensitiveness to impressions from another, or from a spirit, rest on the same cause; and in the higher realm of spirit, the transference of thought is controlled by the same laws, and reaches more perfect expression.
Belief in Guardian Angels.—Memory brings back the days of our childhood and again we hear our mother sing that simple song of joy, which, it is said, Bishop McKendree murmured on his dying bed:
Bright angels have from glory come,They’re round my bed; they’re in my room;They wait to waft my spirit home;All is well! All is well!
Bright angels have from glory come,They’re round my bed; they’re in my room;They wait to waft my spirit home;All is well! All is well!
We approach the dark river of death alone, but we are not to cross without a guide. We may be blind to the light of the celestial sphere in the full pulse of health; we may be insensible to the presence of the nearest and dearest of our departed; yet when death loosens the bonds which unite the physical with the spiritual body, what is known dimly as clairvoyance, the full possession of the spiritual senses, bursts upon the awakened spirit. Then the dying find that death is life, and to leave earthly friends is to meet the hosts of heaven.
That there are guardian angels has been taught from immemorial time, and in some dim form is a belief of all except the lowest races of mankind.
It is a beautiful belief, full of consolation, of assurance, and comfort to the struggling and striving. How hard may press the iron hand of fate, how sharp the flinty stones beneath our bleeding feet, we think of those blessed messengers by our side, and feel that our burdens are for the purpose of giving us strength, else they would turn us aside to more pleasant paths. We know that they are with us in the darkest hours, and enjoy with us the days of our sunshine. We delve in the soil and smirch of the world, and the physical being obscures and overlaps the spiritual to such a degree that our horizon is shut down on that side by thick clouds, and only at long intervals can a ray of light penetrate the darkness.
Our lives might be so well ordered that we would be as conscious of the presence of these guardians as of earthly friends. What is possible at rare moments of lucidity is possible at all times under like conditions. The fault is not on their side, but on ours. The sun forever shines in the heavens, just above the thin vail of clouds, and if the sea does notreflect the starry night, it is because of its agitated surface.
We do not see through the thin vail, which separates the world of spirits and men. We cannot see the air which surges a profound and agitated ocean above and around us. Without material rays of light we could not see material things, and would be practically blind.
If we ascend a mountain in the night, we can only perceive the gray and mossy rocks a few yards ahead of us, bordering the path, beyond which would be impenetrable darkness, gloomy abysses, seemingly unfathomable, and above, the dark night-clouds without a star. On the summit we rest awaiting the morning, seeing nothing, but scenting the faint odors of pine and the fragrance of flowers borne upwards on the gentle air. Patiently we wait until the gray East blushes with a long horizontal line of light flaming upward toward the crimson clouds, and the distant mountain-tops with the silver flood. Lo! the orb of day pushes the clouds aside, and flashes over the world in triumph. What transformation! What grandeur and beauty! Valleys of eden, loveliness at our feet, and snowy summits above our heads! Grand forests clothing the hillsides, bloom and flower everywhere; gem-like lakes, and flashing torrents, endless prospective of mountains on one side, and of plain on the other. All night we were in the midst of this grandeur and beauty, yet saw it not. We seemed suspended between earth and sky, and around us only blackness, yet all this splendor of scenery existed the same as it did before the light made it visible.
Thus the world of spirit may exist around us, unseen, unfelt, except as we perceive the odor of asphodels, or hear the faint murmur of angel whispers,for our eyes are blind to the light, by which it is revealed.
Facts Unreferable to Previously Considered Causes.—After referring to hypnotism, somnambulism, clairvoyance and thought transference, a great mass of the facts presented for explanation, there still remain a large number which stand apart by themselves, and which bring an outside or independent intelligence with them, which no exaltation on the part of the actor can supply. The only adequate or even plausible explanation of these facts is that which refers them to the agency of intelligent beings beyond our ken. The presence of such entities may or may not be recognized by the percipient. The ideas and motives may be impressed all the same. We may be assured that unconsciously those who by study and practical experience become adept in particular lines of thought or practical affairs, are the most proper mediums for the communication of spirits dwelling in the same sphere of thought, and that such communications are continuously made unconsciously to the percipients. The weird stories which come up from the rugged toilers of the sea are full of interest in this particular. The infinite solitude of waters; the long and lonely watches, with the sweep of waves and the silent stars, conduce to a state of abstraction and reverie, peculiarly favorable to the reception of impressions. If there is need in this world of the watchful care of guardian angels, the sailor on the lone ship which plows the trackless waste at the mercy of the elements requires them most. Human skill and foresight may provide to the utmost, and yet there remains the greater dangers which can not be foreseen or provided against. The sailor, feeling thathe is helpless in the hands of the elements, becomes superstitious, though often what is called in him superstition, is belief in influences which future knowledge may accept as valuable accessions to the realm of mental science. I have from the lips of Capt. D. B. Edwards, the narrative of two incidents in the life of his brother, which illustrates this faculty of intuition, if we may give it that name; and if one were to gather up similar stories which are told by the officers, volumes might be filled.
Capt. John B. Edwards was in command of the steamship “Monterey,” one of the New York and New Orleans line of steamers. In one of his voyages he came up with Sandy Hook in a terrible storm. The air was so full of driving snow that the officers could not see the length of the vessel. The sea was high and rapidly increasing, and no pilot responded. To remain was impossible; to go on was almost certain destruction. If the Captain could make the light-ship he would know his bearings, and be able to steer into harbor; but in that drift of blinding snow and rush of waters, in which he had made his approach from the sea, he had been unable to make observations, and had no assurance that he had not deviated from his course under the influence of the drift of wind or current, at least to the variation of a league or more. In his perplexity he ordered the ship to be stopped, and for a moment reflected on the difficulties of his position. While thus waiting, with every sense strained to the utmost, an impression came like a flash, that the light-ship lay in a certain direction. He immediately ordered the officers to keep a sharp lookout forward, for he would run ten minutes in a certain direction to test his impression. The greatwheels again revolved, and the steamer swung obedient to command, and rushed on into the drift. In six minutes the mate on the bow threw up his hands, crying: “Hard-a-port! hard-a-port!” and the steamer quickly responding to her helm, passed the stern of the light-ship, from which the Captain easily took his bearings and safely steamed into the port of New York.
During the war Capt. Edwards was coast pilot for the Government steamer “Vanderbilt.” During one voyage he came up to the “Hook;” a storm was coming on and no pilot in sight. The Commodore came to the wheel-house and asked Capt. Edwards if he thought he could take the ship into port. Edwards shrank and trembled at the question, for he knew the ship was drawing as much, if not more water, than was on the bar, and the responsibility thus thrust upon him was overwhelming. But suddenly he was forced to speak, replying without hesitation: “Yes, sir.” “Go ahead,” was the order of the Commodore. With every faculty intensely active, his strong and steady hand held the wheel, and the ship went over the bar without touching, and all was well. His ability and trustworthiness for the action received the highest recommendation from the Commodore.
It is sad to learn that this noble man sacrificed his own life in caring for his mate, who was a victim of yellow fever in the hospital of Rio Janeiro. From the many remarkable experiences in his own life, Capt. D. B. Edwards related, I take one which is characteristic of the others. He is a strong and powerfully built man, with every line indicative of honest resolution and endurance. He has retired from the sea-faring life, but has made his home by the coast. He impresses one with rare and sterlinghonesty and purity of character, and a self-contained repose which is a peculiarity of most officers who have passed their lives at sea.
He said that one bright day in March, sailing up Long Island, he was overtaken by a snow-storm which suddenly concealed all landmarks, and the wind momentarily increasing, soon became a terrific gale. In that narrow strait one has not to sail for a great length of time in the wrong direction to reach the coast. As night came on the situation became more appalling, and wreck most certain. He gave the wheel to the mate and allowed himself time to reflect. He could arrive at no conclusion. Suddenly it flashed through his mind to steer by the lead! How? “Why, where the Thames enters the Sound it is deeper. When you reach that channel follow it into safety.” It was the only chance, and he seized it. He went to the bow, for he would trust no one, ordering the mate to implicitly, and with utmost readiness, obey orders, and hold the vessel on her present course. Standing at the bow, with the spray falling in torrents over him, and the wind straining the spars to the utmost, he cast the lead to find the ordinary level of the Sound. He continued to cast until suddenly deeper water was indicated, and with joy he gave the order that changed the course of the vessel, and in a few minutes brought her into the still waters of the Thames. Then, he said, in a change of warm, dry clothing, they sat in the snug cabin and drank their hot coffee with a sense of peace words can but feebly express.
Saved From Death by a Premonition.—It may be said that under the stimulus of danger and great emergency, the mental faculties become intensified, and that we can not fix their limits; that all thatwas required of Capt. Edwards was courage to act in response to knowledge he had acquired, but which was latent until called forth by the extraordinary demand. We shall now introduce facts to which this pleading will not apply. The first shows two distinct intelligences, one of which was superior to that of mortals, for it could foresee the future, and must have acted on Capt. McGowan, to compel him to relinquish a well formed plan, without any assignable reason, and pursue one entirely different. The thought of the theater had not entered his mind, and he gave his boys no excuse for breaking his word with them.
Capt. McGowan, 12th U. S. I., thus relates this story (J. S. P. R., Feb., 1885):
“In Jan. 1887, I was on leave of absence in Brooklyn, with my two boys, then on a vacation from school. I promised to take them to the theater that night and engaged seats for us three. At the same time I had an opportunity to examine the interior of the theater, and went over it carefully, stage and all. These seats were engaged on the previous day, but on the day of the proposed visit it seemed as if a voice within me was constantly saying, ‘Do not go to the theater; take the boys back to school.’ I could not keep these words out of my mind; they grew stronger and stronger, and at noon I told my friends and the boys I would not go to the theater. My friends remonstrated with me, and said I was cruel to deprive the boys of a promised and unfamiliar pleasure, and I partially relented; but all the afternoon the words kept repeating themselves and impressing themselves upon me. That evening, less than an hour before the doors opened, I insisted on the boys going to New York with me, and spending the nightat a hotel convenient to the railroad, by which we could start in the early morning. I felt ashamed of the feeling which impelled me to act thus, but there seemed no escape from it. That night the theater was destroyed by fire, with the loss of 300 lives. Had I been present, from my previous examination of the building, I should certainly have taken my children over the stage when the fire broke out, in order to escape by a private exit, and would just as certainly have been lost as were all those who trusted to it, for that passage by an accident could not be used.... I never had a presentiment before nor since. What was it that caused me, against my desire, to abandon the play after having secured the seats and carefully arranged for the pleasure?”
Saved from Intemperance.—S. H. Mann, of Washington, D. C., wrote the following personal experience to Dr. M. L. Holbrook. When a youth, he was clerk in a country store, and formed the habit of saturating loaf sugar with brandy and eating it. It was in the early part of this century, and before the temperance movement had been inaugurated. At that time the use of alcoholic beverages was considered almost as essential to health as food. He had regarded the saturated sugar as a pleasant confection and had not become aware of the strong hold the habit had taken on him, or how passionately fond of it he had become. One day he went into the cellar with his sugar, saturated it, and was in the act of raising it to his mouth, when his arm became paralyzed, and a voice out of the air, for he was alone, spoke to him in stern tones, saying: “Young man, stop! If you continue this habit you will die a drunkard!” He could not move his hand to his mouth, and at last he let the sugar drop as hishand fell helpless by his side. The occurrence made such a strong impression on him, that he became a total abstainer, at a time when nearly all drank, and has remained true to his convictions all his life.
A Soldier’s Life Saved by a Dream.—This story is yet more remarkable. Rev. L. W. Lewis, in his “Reminiscences of the War,” published in theChristian Advocate, relates an instance where a dream saved the life of a soldier: “A man by the name of Williams had told a dream to his fellow-soldiers, some of whom related it to me months previous to the occurrence which I now relate. He dreamed that he crossed a river, marched over a mountain and camped near a church located in a wood, near which a terrible battle ensued, and in a charge just as we crossed the ravine he was shot in the heart. On the ever memorable 7th of December, 1862 (Battle of Prairie Grove, Northern Arkansas), as we moved at double-quick to take our places in the line of battle, then already hotly engaged, we passed the church, a small frame building. I was riding in the flank of the command opposite to Williams, as we came in view of the house. ‘That is the church I saw in my dream,’ said he. I made no reply, and never thought of the matter again until the evening. We had broken the enemy’s lines and were in full pursuit, when we came to a dry ravine in the wood; and Williams said: ‘Just on the other side of this ravine I was shot in my dream, and I’ll stick my hat under my shirt.’ Suiting the action to the word he doubled up his hat as he ran along and crammed it into his bosom. Scarcely had he adjusted it when a Minie ball knocked him out of line; jumping up quickly he pulled out his hat, waved it over his head shouting,‘I’m all right!’ The ball raised a black spot, about the size of a man’s hand, just over his heart, and dropped into his shoe.”
Here the prophecy was a long time ahead, and foretold the exact coming of a ball depending on a combination of circumstances which would seem impossible for reason or intuition to foresee and foreknow. Its fulfillment was peculiar, for by guarding against it, the danger was averted and the dream proved untrue.
An Error Corrected in a Remarkable Manner.—The head bookkeeper in one of the largest sewing machine companies in New York City, in balancing his books found an error of $5.00. It was a small sum, but as a mistake was as damaging as $500. He set his assistants at work to find it, yet day after day their labor was in vain. They worked for a week and accomplished nothing. He became greatly annoyed and filled with anxiety. In his own words: “The third Sunday after the search was begun, I got up late after a sleepless night and started out on a walk for exercise. My mind was on my books, and I paid no attention to the direction I took. My surprise was, therefore, genuine when I found myself at the door of the company’s office in Union Square, for I had not certainly intended to go there. Mechanically I put my hand in my pocket, drew out the key, opened the door and went in. As if in a dream I walked to the office, where I turned the combination and unlocked the safe. There were the books, a dozen of them in a row. I did not consider for a moment which to take up. It was by no volition on my part that my hand moved toward a certain one, and drew it from the safe. Placing it on the desk, I opened it; my eye ran along the column of figures, and there before me,plain as day, was the missing $5.00. I made a note of the page, put the book back in the safe, and went home. It was then noon. I lay down and fell into a deep sleep from which I did not awake until nine o’clock on Monday morning. After a hearty breakfast I hastened to the office feeling like a new man. It seemed as if a burden had fallen from me, and I was walking on air.”
This bookkeeper, by anxiety and overwork, had become very sensitive. He was by the account he gives of himself, in a state bordering on clairvoyance. He was automatically used, not by a “dominant idea,” for the dominant idea caused his mistake, and that could not suggest to him the book and page, which were readily found by his hand being moved by some cause. As the hand could not move itself, it must have been acted on by an intelligent, independent force.
A Mother Saves the Life of Her Son.—Of warnings there are no end, and, however much the truth of prophecy may be denied, it is certain that within at least narrow bounds future events may be foretold. One instance of this being correctly done may be referred to coincidence, but two places the probabilities on the other side, and three makes it impossible. It will be readily comprehended that no guess told the soldier a ball would strike him at a certain time and place, or the father that the theater would be burned on a certain night.
There is a series of facts which show direct interposition of superior intelligence, of which the following may be taken as examples. Col. Walter B. Daulay gives his personal experience when on shipboard the “Gulf of Lyons” in a gale of wind:
“I had the mid watch. The night was dark andterrible, the wind howled furiously and the heaving sea tossed our ship about like a bit of cork. I stood by the mizzen mast, holding on by the fife-rail, and shielding my face from the blinding spray that came driving over the deck. Suddenly I heard my name pronounced as distinctly as I ever heard it in my life—‘Walter! Walter!’ and it was my mother’s voice that spoke. She continued to call me from the gloom about the main mast, and without stopping to reflect, or thinking where I was, I leaped forward. Hardly had I reached the after-companion-way, when I heard a crash behind me, and was called to myself. I turned and found that an iron-banded burton-block had fallen from the top and struck the deck exactly where I had been standing! Had I remained by the fife-rail three seconds longer than I did, my brains would have been dashed out. I always regarded that as an interposition in my behalf of a power independent of human will.”
Death Foretold in a Vision.—The following facts are vouched for by S. Bigelow, a gentleman of unquestioned integrity and a shrewd observer. In the early days of our war one Albert Dexter, near Ionia, Mich., enlisted in Co. D, Third Michigan Cavalry. His sister, Mrs. John Dunham, living then and now in Ionia, had what she terms a vision the day before he enlisted in which she saw him—her brother Albert—on horseback; saw him wheel and fall from his horse. She told Albert of her vision and importuned him not to go, but he made light of her fears and vision, and went with his company to the fields of blood and carnage, and often in his letters he referred to his sister’s fears and vision in a light and joyful mood; but in his last letter he seemed to believe in the vision and in its probable fulfillment.More than two years had passed since the vision, and no unfavorable news from Albert, when one afternoon in autumn, as Mrs. Dunham was alone in her quiet home, she heard a loud rap at the door, opened it, saw no one, felt impressed, and queried with herself, “Why can’t they tell me?” but could get nothing definite beyond her impressions, and the plain, loud rap about which she could not be mistaken. But during the quiet hours of night her spiritual vision was quickened, and she saw Albert on horseback, advance, then wheel, and then saw him shot and fall, and as plainly as though she had been by his side. She saw just where he was hit, how he fell, etc. Hence she knew all, having full confidence in such manifestations, as they were not new to her.
She suffered intense agony and a sleepless night, not expecting herself to survive; was pale and haggard in the morning, and scarcely able to be up. She told her friends and family about the matter in detail, even to the writing of a letter by the lieutenant informing them. She gave the contents of the letter before it was written. This was on Tuesday night and following morning. The next Sunday Mrs D. was visiting six miles from Ionia, and during the day a messenger came bringing a letter, which John Dexter had just received from the lieutenant of the Third Michigan Cavalry, giving particulars of his brother Albert’s death while engaged in action the previous Tuesday, confirming in every detail what Mrs. D. had seen and told; and farther, she felt or saw the messenger with the letter while yet far from the house, and told him what he had, and gave the contents of the letter, assuring him that it was no news to her.
Another brother, James, enlisted and went to the war, and one evening as Mrs. D. was in bed and Mr.D. was reading, they both heard plainly the report of a pistol (or what seemed to them such), and Mrs. D. saw Albert and James come in and fall near her bed, and told Mr. D. that James was dead, which was fully confirmed by letter in about two weeks.
The Assassination of Garfield Predicted.—The assassination of Garfield was foretold by many sensitives, for that great event seemed to cast a strong shadow before it. Several of these prophecies have been published since the event, and consequently have lost their weight as evidence, while others had been widely published before the terrible tragedy. The following rests on the integrity of S. Bigelow, and is unquestionably true.
A gentleman in Cleveland, O., well known there, saw and knew that Garfield would be assassinated long before he left his quiet Mentor home, and was so oppressed with the knowledge that he told Mayor Rose and Dr. Streator, two very prominent and wealthy friends of Garfield, and both active politicians as well, and they conferred with others, and finally wrote to Garfield about it; but the sensitive, in the meantime, felt impelled to do something, and that he must go and see Garfield and warn him, but being a stranger and in humble circumstances he thought he could not go; but he could get no peace until he did, and finally plucked up courage to undertake the, to him, dreaded mission, and went alone and sad, to Mentor. Garfield met him in person (not by secretary as he did others) at the door, and greeted him cordially, and thus enabled him to overcome his embarrassment in a measure, and to talk freely, which he did, and as a consequence Garfield’s bed was moved from his bedroom on the lower floor to the chamber.
This precaution prevented the crime for a time, which was ripe for execution. The same gentleman felt impelled to go to Washington with the fateful vision, but was prevented from going, and thus unwarned, Garfield met his death.
Omens.—Almost every one has good and had omens, and although they may think that they have entirely outgrown such superstition, they will find that there yet lingers more or less of the feeling from education or heredity. They do not believe that seeing the moon over the left shoulder indicates bad luck, and over the right good fortune, yet they would prefer to see it over the right. They do not think Friday a more unlucky day than the other six, yet avoid commencing important business on that day. There are a great number of omens and signs, many of them peculiar to the individual; others world-wide, and held from remote antiquity. Of these it may be said that while of themselves these signs and omens have no relation to the events they presage, if we suppose a person to accept a certain omen as foreshadowing a certain event, a superior being foreknowing that event and desiring to impress it on the mind of such person, might use the sign to convey the warning. To further illustrate: There may be no connection between seeing the moon over one’s right shoulder and a fortunate event in store; but a superior being, foreseeing that event, may so influence our minds as to make us catch a glimpse of the crescent on the right.
Mrs. Bancroft, a daughter-in-law of the great historian, has described an uncanny circumstance which happened at a wedding in 1863, where the wives of Major Thos. Y. Brent and Capt. EugeneBarnes, of the C. S. A. met, each wearing her bridal dress. While dressing for the occasion, Mrs. Brent’s companion discovered a blood spot upon the dress of the Major’s wife, which could not be accounted for, and somewhat excitedly exclaimed: “It is a bad omen!” Two days after, Mrs. Brent experienced a severe pain in the region of her heart, although at the time in the best of health. This occurred at the birth-place of her husband. Two days later she heard that while storming a Federal fortification, her husband was killed on July 4th, 1863, as far as she could learn at the identical time that she experienced the heart-pain. The Major was shot in the breast by a Minie ball and instantly killed. Another fact occurred at the time of finding the blood spot, and that was Mrs. Thomas Bright addressing the two ladies as “war widows.” She believes in omens, and believes that these facts pointed to the death of the lady’s husband, which occurred so soon after.
A Dream Realized.—The MobileRegisterpublished the following, under the title of “A Dream Realized,” which should be regarded as a trance, in which state the transcendent knowledge was given by some superior intelligence:
“A man named Bronson, who was an agent for a seed house, was travelling through Tennessee making collections. One night, after he had finished his business in Chattanooga, he made ready for a horseback ride of fifteen or twenty miles the next day. Upon retiring to his room for the night he sat down to smoke a cigar.
“He was neither overtired nor sleepy, but, after smoking a few minutes, he had what he termed a vision. He was riding over the country on horseback; when at the junction of two roads he was joined by astranger. He saw this man as plainly as one man can see another in broad daylight, noting the color of his hair and eyes and taking particular notice of the fact that the horse, which was gray in color, had a “y” branded on his left shoulder.
“The two rode along together for a mile or more, and then came to a spot where a tree had been blown down and fallen across the narrow highway. They turned into the woods to pass the spot, he in advance, when he saw the stranger pull a pistol and fire at his back. He felt the bullet tear into him, reeled and fell from his horse, and was conscious when the assassin robbed him and drew his body further into the woods. He seemed to see all this, and yet at the same time knew that he was dead. His corpse was rolled into a hollow and covered with brush, and then the murderer went away and left him alone.
“In making an effort to throw off the brush, he awoke. His cigar had gone out, and, as near as he could calculate, he had been unconscious, as you might call it, for about fifteen minutes. He was deeply agitated, and it was some time before he could convince himself that he had not suffered any injury. By-and-by he went to bed and slept soundly, and next morning the remembrance of what had happened in his vision had almost faded from his mind.