Thought-Transference and Telepathy.
Thought-Transference is evidently a phase of psychic perception. In
some respects it bears a greater relation to feeling than sight. It
is distinguished from pure clairvoyance by the result of experiment.
For instance, suppose I had in the Rothesay case designed M. C., the
clairvoyante, should see “a maid in the room, dressed in a black
dress, with neat white collar and cuffs, wearing a nicely-trimmed
white apron, and a white tulle cap with bows and streamers, or that
a black-and-white spotted cat lay comfortably coiled up upon the
hearth-rug, or some other strongly-projected mental image.” Now,
suppose while M. C. was examining the room, she declared she _saw_
the maid, and described her, or the cat, or other objects projected
from my mind, and described these, then this would be a case of
thought-transference.
There is a distinction between thought-transference and
thought-reading. It is no mere fanciful distinction either.
Thought-transference occurs when the ideas, thoughts, and emotions of
one mind are projected by intense action and received by the sensitive
and impressionable mind of another--awake or asleep is immaterial--so
long as it occurs without pre-arrangement and contact.
Telepathy is a more vivid form of sudden and unexpected
thought-transference, in which the intense thoughts and wishes of one
person, more or less in sympathy, are suddenly transferred to the
consciousness of another. The thoughts transmitted are often so intense
as to be accompanied by the vision of the person, and by the sound of
their voice.
Telepathy bears about the same relation to thought-transference
as “second sight” does to clairvoyance. Thought-transference and
clairvoyance can be cultivated. Not so telepathy and second sight.
They are phenomena, which belong to the unexpected, portents of the
unusual, or sudden revelations of what is, and what is about to happen.
Doubtless, there are conditions more favourable than others for
inception of these. One needs to be “in spirit on the Lord’s day,” or
any day, before telepathic and second sight messages are secured. Hence
it is noticed telepathic revelations mostly come in the quietude of the
evening, just before sleep, between sleep and waking, and under similar
conditions favourable to passivity and receptivity in the sensitive or
percipient.
In thought-reading both operator and sensitive are aware that
something is to be done, and indications, intentional or otherwise,
are given to make the thought-reader find out what is required. More
or less sensitiveness is required in both phases. In telepathy and
thought-transference the psychic elements are in the ascendency; in
thought-reading they may be more or less present, but intention,
sensitiveness, and muscular contact are adequate enough, I think, to
account for the phenomena, as witnessed at public entertainments--so
far, at least, as these entertainments are genuine.
How do we think? what are thoughts? and how are thoughts transferred?
are reasonable questions, and merit more elaborate solution than is
possible in an elementary work like this.
We think in pictures: words are but vehicles of thought. In
thought-transference we can successfully project actions, or a series
of actions, by forming in our minds a scene or picture of what is done
and what is to be reproduced. When, however, we think of a sentence
consisting of few or many words, there is nothing more difficult to
convey. Words belong to our external life here, and are but arbitrary
expressions and signs for what in the internal or soul-life is flashed
telepathically from mind to mind.
Thoughts are things for good or ill, veritable and living realities,
apart from our exterior selves, independent of words. The more words,
often the less thought. Try to teach a child by the slow, dry-as-dust
method of words, and the road to knowledge is hard and wearisome.
Convey the same thoughts by illustrations and experiments, and the
child’s mind at once grasps the ideas we desire to convey.
Thoughts are living entities (how poor are words!) which our own
souls have given birth to, or created in the intensity of our love,
wisdom, or passion. One Eastern adept has taught, “A good thought is
perpetuated as an active, beneficent power, an evil one as a malignant
demon. The Hindoo calls this _karma_. The adept evolves these shapes
consciously; other men throw them off unconsciously.” How true in our
experience! The thoughts of some men blast, while those of others
bless. There is wisdom in thinking deliberately, intelligently, and
therefore conscientiously, not passionately, impulsively, or carelessly.
In thought-transference the reproduction of exact words and dates seems
to be most difficult. Indeed, the transmission of arbitrary words and
signs is apparently the most difficult. The reason, I conclude, is,
ideas belong to our inner, real, and spiritual life, and names, words,
and dates to our exterior existence. The ideas can be expressed in the
language of the sensitive, according to culture or the want of it. If
the true lineaments of the picture are given, need we be too exacting
as to the special frame surrounding the picture?
Notwithstanding the difficulty in transference and the reading of the
exact words, this has also been frequently done. A very high state of
receptivity and sensitiveness, however, is necessary in the percipient.
An incident of exact word-reading is related by Gerald Massey, the
distinguished philosopher and poet. Mr. Massey met Mr. Home at the
London terminus just on his (Mr. Massey’s) arrival from Hertfordshire.
Home and he entered into conversation, during which Home suddenly said
“he hoped Mr. Massey would go on with his poem.”
“What did he mean?” asked Mr. Massey.
“The poem,” replied Home, “you composed four lines of just now in the
train.”
This was surprising to Mr. Massey, who had actually composed, but had
not written, the four lines of a new poem on the journey. Mr. Massey
challenged Mr. Home to repeat the lines, which Home did word for word.
How are thoughts transferred? No one can positively say. There are
theories enough--the _theory of brain-waves_ and of _a universal
impalpable elastic ether_, of _undulating motions_, or other more or
less materialistic hypothesis.[E]
We know there are no psychic phenomena without their corresponding
physical correlatives, and, in this life at least, these are in
thoughts evolved without producing corresponding molecular changes in
the brain.
We notice the human brain is capable of being, and is, acted upon
daily by much less subtle influences than mental impressions. We can
appreciate light impinged upon our cerebral centres at the rate of
millions of undulations, and sound as the result of 20,000 to 30,000
vibrations per second. So sensitives, when in the mesmeric or psychic
states, are readily acted upon, and respond as in thought-transference
to our thoughts and sensations, and veritably read our minds,
because of the _rapport_ or sympathy thus established. Whether they
become percipients of the nerve-vibrations which escape from our own
sensoriums or not, what does it matter _if they can, as they frequently
do_, read our minds?
“Professor Wheaton,” says Hudson Tuttle, “devised a means of
illustrating sympathy. If a sounding board is placed so as to resound
to all 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 organised than the most
perfect musical instrument, and is possessed of finer sensitiveness.
“It must not be inferred that all minds are equally receptive. Light
falls on all substances alike, but is very differently affected by
each substance. One class of bodies absorb all but the yellow rays,
another all but the blue, another all but the red, because these
substances are so organised that they respond only to the waves of the
colours reflected.”
All persons do not hear alike. They receive certain sounds and are deaf
to all others, although the sound-waves strike all tympanums alike.
All persons do not see alike. Some perceive colours, others cannot
distinguish between one colour and another, or can only see the more
striking colours--fineness of shade they do not perceive. So there are
individuals who cannot receive mental impressions, unless, indeed,
they are conveyed in the baldest and most esoteric manner. In a word
to convey and receive impressions they must be sent along the line of
the least resistance, that of _true sympathy_. There must be one mind
adequate to the projection, and another mind sufficiently sensitive to
receive and record the thoughts projected.
TRANSFERENCE OF TASTE IN THE MESMERIC STATE.
The operator will slowly eat or taste half-a-dozen lozenges or sweets
of different flavours, and the subject or sensitive most in sympathy
with him will also in imagination eat of and describe the taste of the
various sweets, concerning which he has no other knowledge than the
thoughts of eating and tasting, which are transmitted to him from the
brain of the operator. The mere eating of the lozenges by the operator,
without his being fully aware of the fact, will deepen the impression
on the operator’s mind, and help to concentrate his energies for the
transmission of his ideas or mental suggestions to his subject.
A step or two further and we find with greater sensitiveness the
sensitives can read the thoughts of the operator, whether the thoughts
were transmitted intentionally or not.
“We are compelled (says Dr. Hands) to acknowledge that certain
emanating undulations from the sensorium can generate different series
of thoughts, and that the trembling organisation, or parts of it, can,
by flinging or throwing off distinct or particular pulsatory waves,
inoculate or produce like vibrations in another person’s brain, making
up in it identical thoughts, followed by like feelings, and often
in this way, perhaps, capable of inciting, _through sympathy_, like
enactments of deeds and pursuits.”
THOUGHT-TRANSFERENCE IN DREAMS.
The following interesting letter appeared in _The Phrenological
Magazine_ (p. 260, April, 1890), and as I know of the _bona-fides_ of
the writer, I have much pleasure in reproducing it:--
“Dear Sir,--This morning, at a little before four o’clock, I awoke as
the outcome of great mental distress and grief through which I had
just passed in a dream, my body trembling and in a cold perspiration.
I had been walking with my little boy, aged five and a half years, and
some friends. A heavy rain overtaking us, we stood up for shelter; and
venturing forth into a maze of streets, I missed my two friends, who,
threading among the people, had turned into a side street without my
noticing. Looking for them, my boy slipped from me, and was lost in
the crowd. I became bewildered by the strange labyrinth of streets
and turnings, and quickly taking one of them which gave an elevated
position, I looked down on the many windings, but could nowhere see
my boy. It was to me an unknown locality, and, running down among the
people, I was soon sobbing aloud in my distress, and calling out the
name of the child, when I awoke. With wakefulness came a sense of
relief and thankfulness. Gladly realising that the whole was only a
dream, and still scarcely awake, I was startled by a cry of terror
and pain from an adjoining bedroom--such a cry as could not be left
unheeded. It came from the same child, and pierced me with a distinct
sense of pain. I was immediately by his side. My voice calmed him. ‘I
thought I was lost’ was all he could say, and doubtless he was soon
composed and asleep again. To me the coincidence was too remarkable
and without parallel in my own experience. Later on, at breakfast, the
child gave further his dream that he _had been out with me and was
lost_. I am only familiar with such things in my reading. Mr. Coates’s
article in last month’s _Phrenological Magazine_ (page 143) mentions
that, ‘when the Prince Imperial died from assegai thrusts in Zululand,
his mother in England felt the intensity of his thoughts at the time,
felt the savage lance pierce her own side, and knew or felt at the
time that she was childless.’ But I am not of the _spirituelle_ type,
with only a thin parchment separation between this life of realities
and the great beyond, of those who, privileged to live in close touch
with the future, are the subjects of premonitions and warnings. My
spirituality 4 to 5 and reflectives 6 point rather the other way, but
I shall, nevertheless, hold tight to the lad. What is the underlying
cause of the coincidence? Which of the two minds influenced the other,
if either?--Yours truly,
“G. Cox.
“16 Bramfield Road,
Wandsworth Common, April 20, 1890.”
In this case of thought-transference, I am inclined to the opinion
that the father’s mind influenced that of the boy, the son being the
more sensitive of the two. Mr. Cox dreamt an ordinary but pretty vivid
dream, which aroused from its nature vivid and intense anxiety on
his part. A similar train of thought was awakened in the child. If
thought-transference occurs in waking life, why not in sleep, when,
as abundant telepathic instances testify, the phenomenon is of most
frequent occurrence.
THOUGHT-TRANSFERENCE AT SEA.
The percipient was Captain G. A. Johnson, of the schooner “Augusta
H. Johnson.” He had sailed from Quero for home. On the voyage he
encountered a terrible hurricane. On the second day he saw a disabled
brig, and near by a barque. He was anxious to reach home, and, thinking
the barque would assist the brig, continued on.
But the impression came that he must turn back and board the brig. He
could not shake it off, and at last he, with four men, boarded the brig
in a dory. He found her deserted, and made sail in her. After a time
they saw an object ahead, appearing like a man on a cake of ice. The
dory was again manned, and set to the rescue. It proved to be the mate
of the barque “Leawood” clinging to the bottom of an overturned boat,
which, being white, appeared in the distance as ice.
The captain’s sensitiveness may have been aroused by the exhaustion of
so much wakefulness and care during the length of the storm, the sight
of the derelict and deserted brig; at the same time the premonitions
were opposed to his own desire and anxiety to get home.
THOUGHT-TRANSFERENCE FROM THE DYING TO THE LIVING IN DREAM.
The following, by E. Ede, M.D., of 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 taken suddenly ill, and was dying, and had expressed
an earnest wish to see her daughters.”
The percipients having been so lately in company and sympathy with
their mother possibly rendered them more susceptible to her influence.
THOUGHT-TRANSFERENCE FROM THE DEAD (?) TO THE LIVING IN DREAM.
Related by Mr. Myers, page 208, Proceedings S.P.R., July, 1892:--
“About March, 1857, Mrs. Mennier, in England, dreamt that she saw her
brother, whose whereabouts she did not know, standing headless at the
foot of the bed with his head lying in a coffin by his side. The dream
was at once mentioned. It afterwards appeared that at about the time
the head of the brother seen, Mr. Wellington, was actually cut off by
the Chinese at Sarawak.” On this case, Mr. Gurney remarks--“This dream,
if it is to be telepathically explained, must apparently have been
due to the last flash of thought in the brother’s consciousness. It
may seem strange that a definite picture of his mode of death should
present itself to a man in the instant of receiving an unexpected and
fatal blow; but, as Hobbes said, ‘Thought is quick.’ The coffin, at
any rate, may be taken as an item of death-imagery supplied by the
dreamer’s mind.”
“We have now, however,” says Mr. Myers, “seen a letter from Sir James
Brookes (Rajah of Sarawak), and an extract from the _Straits Times_ of
March 21st, 1857, in the (London) _Times_ for April 29th, 1857, which
makes it, I think, quite conceivable that the dream was a reflection
of knowledge acquired after death, and the head on the coffin had a
distinct meaning.” Sir James Brookes says:--“Poor Wellington’s remains
were consumed [by the Chinese]; his head, borne off in triumph, alone
attesting his previous murder.” The _Straits Times_ says:--“The head
was given up on the following day. The head, therefore, and the head
alone, must have been buried by Mr. Wellington’s friends; and its
appearance in the dream _on the coffin_, with a headless body standing
beside it, is a coincidence even more significant than the facts which
Mr. Gurney had before him when he wrote.”
The transmission of thought from a spirit discarnate to one incarnate,
whose body was asleep, should not be esteemed impossible. Abundant
instances, equally well substantiated, might be recorded did space
permit.
THOUGHT TRANSFERENCE IN PRAYER.
This may be a common experience, but only once in my life have I had
conscious knowledge of anything so remarkable. For some years before
devoting my attention to these subjects, I resided in Liverpool, and
had been a member of the Zion Methodist Church, or Chapel, in Everton,
and in time was duly placed on the local preachers’ plan. In this
capacity I became acquainted with a worthy old man--a chapel-keeper,
who looked after the meeting house situated in ---- street. He had
been an old soldier, and possessed something of the faith of the Roman
centurion. Poor in the things of this world, he was rich in the
sublimity of his love to God and the nobility and purity of his life. I
never think of “Old Daddy Walker” but his character and this incident
comes to my mind, viz.:--One morning I was hurrying down West Derby
Road to business, and, indeed had got halfway down Brunswick Road, when
I commenced to think about old Walker (I had not seen or thought of him
for some months). I attempted to throw aside my impressions, as passing
thoughts. No use. I became worried about him, and was asking myself
questions. “Was he ill?” “Maybe, he is in want?” “I think I will hurry
back and see?” I had not much time to spare. It would consume fully
twenty minutes to walk back. After hesitating, I went up Brunswick Road
and up West Derby Road, and to ---- Street, and tapped at the door of
his house. There was no response. The street door was slightly ajar. I
went in, and found the old pair on their knees in the kitchen. He was
engaged in earnest prayer. After kindly salutations, I apologised for
intruding, and told him, as I went to business, “I had been bothered
about him in my mind, and did not feel satisfied until I had seen him,
and knew the truth.” He told me, as near as I can recollect, “He was at
his last extremity. There was no food or fuel in the house, he had no
money, and he had been putting the whole case before the Lord.” I had
half a sovereign about me, which I had taken out of the house for an
entirely different purpose. This I gave to him. The old man, rubbing a
tear from his eye, looking at his wife, said: “Mary, don’t thee doubt
the Lord anymore. I said He would help, and He has given me what I
asked for.” Old Walker went on to explain, not only his bad fix, but
that he had no money to buy firewood with. He meant that he bought up
old wood and tar-barrels, which he cut up into lengths and made into
bundles, and sold for firewood; and that he had asked the Lord for ten
shillings, as he wanted that sum to buy a certain lot which could be
obtained for that amount. The old man obtained what he asked for. He
believed the Lord had answered his prayer.
THOUGHT TRANSMISSION IN PRAYER.
Since writing the above, the following came under my notice. In the
J.S.P.R., May, 1885, Dr. Joseph Smith, Warrington, England, says:--
“I was sitting one evening reading, when a voice came to me, saying:
‘Send a loaf to James Grady’s.’ I continued reading, and the voice
continued with greater emphasis, and this time it was accompanied with
an irresistible impulse to get up. I obeyed, and went into the village
and bought a loaf of bread, and, seeing a lad at the shop door, I
asked him if he knew James Grady. He said he did, so I bade him carry
it and say a gentleman sent it. Mrs. Grady was a member of my class,
and I went next morning to see what came of it, when she told me a
strange thing happened to her last night. She said she wished to put
the children to bed, they began to cry for want of food, and she had
nothing to give them. She then went to prayer, to ask God to give them
something. Soon after which the lad came to the door with the loaf. I
calculated, on inquiry, that the prayer and the voice I heard exactly
coincided in point of time.”
“More things are wrought by prayer
Than this world dreams of.”
Those who know anything of Methodism, will know this. The Methodists
have a profound faith in prayer, and also there is a very close
relationship between a class-leader and his members. Dr. Smith was,
therefore, all the more likely to be the percipient of the woman’s
earnest and intense prayer to God to feed her hungry children. The
Infinite must have an infinite variety of ways of fulfilling His own
purposes. Is it unreasonable to suppose that prayer to Him may not be
answered indirectly “through means”? and that thought-transference, as
in this instance, may be one of the means? If not, why not?
Charitable institutions are maintained; orphans saved, reared, and
educated; missions of mercy organised, and the necessary means found by
the agency of prayer. Beside “the angels,” in That Sphere just beyond
the ken of the physical, may not our waves of thought, projected by
prayer, be impinged upon, and directly affect susceptible minds in
this world, by directing their attention to those works of faith and
goodness? Prayer is the language of love, and the outcome of true
helplessness and need. A praying man is an earnest man. In prayer
thoughts are things--bread upon the waters.
THOUGHT TRANSFERENCE IN DISTRESS.
I withhold the names for family reasons. Mr. ---- had been in business
in Glasgow for nearly thirty years, and, from comparatively small
beginnings, had been very successful. Latterly, he and his family
resided in ----, a suburb of Glasgow. Both in the city and in this
district Mr. ---- was very much respected, being a church member and
holding office in ---- Free Church. For some time Mr. ---- had been
ailing, and his medical attendant advised him to take a sea voyage--a
thorough change, etc. In compliance with this advice, he took a trip
up the Mediterranean. Miss ----, a distant relative of his, had been
visiting Glasgow, and, being on terms of intimacy with the family,
knew of his departure from Glasgow. About two weeks after he left, she
also left Glasgow for Edinburgh. While in the train for Edinburgh, she
was overcome with great anxiety for Mrs. ----, his wife. Unable to
shake the feeling off, instead of going to Edinburgh, she actually got
out of the train halfway, at Falkirk, and took the next train back
to Glasgow, and went to her friend’s house, whom she found in great
distress. Mrs. ---- had, about the time Miss ---- became distressed
in the train, received word that her husband was found dead (having
committed suicide) in his berth on the steamer at Constantinople. The
state of mind of the newly-made widow re-acted on that of Miss ----.
As Miss ---- was not only a dear friend, but was noted for her earnest
piety, the widow at once earnestly desired to see her. When last
these two friends saw each other, everything seemed to contribute to
happiness and comfort. Mrs. ---- was looking forward hopefully for the
return of her husband, restored in health, to herself and children.
THOUGHT TRANSFERENCE IN ORDINARY EXPERIENCE.
Whether thought-transference is a “relic of a decaying faculty,” or the
“germ of a new and fruitful sense,” daily experience in the lives of
most furnish abundant evidence of the existence of such a power. My own
life has supplied me with abundant evidence of the fact. It is a common
occurrence with us for either my wife or I to utter or give expression
to the thoughts which, for the time being, occupied the conscious plane
in the other. It is possible there may have been, as there has been in
some instances, some half phrase uttered or manner shown, which in the
one have aroused the thoughts expressed by the other.
It has been our habit for several years to stay at Rothesay during the
summer season. As an instance of thought-transference quite common
in our experience;--On Saturday, 1st October, 1892, I went to the
Revision Court at the Town Hall to hear registration disputes settled
between Tory and Gladstonian lawyers. Finding nothing to interest me,
I entered into conversation with Mr. Thompson, jeweller and hardware
merchant, whom I met in the Court, and went with him to his shop in
Montague Street, Rothesay. Standing at his door a short time, I noticed
a solitary pair of shamrock earrings, composed of crystal brilliants
and gold, lying on a tray, with a number of other earrings, in one of
the windows. I inquired the price, as I felt sure Mrs. Coates would be
pleased with them. They were packed up in a neat box, and I took them
home. At dinner, I gave the box to my wife, who said, “What is this,
papa?”
“Open and see,” I replied.
Animated with a little curiosity, she did, and, as soon as she saw
the earrings, said, “Thompson’s! Well, papa, that is funny. James (my
little son) and I stood at Thompson’s window last night, and I admired
these earrings. I thought them so neat, and that they would match my
brooch. I thought I would like to have them, and then I thought to
myself, no; I will not spend the money. I pointed them out to James,
and said to him, I am sure if papa saw them, he would buy them--and
here you have brought them home. I cannot tell you how much I prize
them.”
My little boy said, “Thought-reading again, papa!” and, with a good
laugh, we proceeded to discuss our dinner. Mrs. Coates had not been in
the habit of seeing this particular window, and I am not in the habit
of buying jewellery.
I record this trifle here, as one of our common experiences, and I am
satisfied similar experiences are common to all.
Another experience is the anticipation of letters and their contents.
This is most frequent in the morning, just before rising. I frequently
see the letters and the shape of the envelope and style of address
before I actually see the letters on my consulting table.
The most common experience of all is recognised by the adage, “Think
of the Devil, and he will appear.” I have noted this in particular.
Sitting at the table, there is “popped” into my mind a thought of
someone. I will remark, “I think Mr. or Mrs. ---- will be here to-day,”
and they come. Certainly, all who have come in this way have been
relatives or friends; and although they appear subsequent to the
thought of them, the evidence in favour of thought-transference may not
be esteemed conclusive. I say it is a common experience. I don’t think
we should despise any experience, because it is common. To be common,
indicates there is a basis, amounting to a psychic law, to account for
its existence.
Another common experience is the crossing of letters. One person
suddenly recollects “So-and-so;” and writes them a letter excusing
delay in writing, retailing news, and in all probability writing on
some subject more particularly than on others. Strange to say, the
person you have written to, has also been engaged writing to you about
the same time and on similar subjects. Both have possibly posted their
letters at such a time that the delivery has been crossed. I do not say
this proves anything; yet I cannot help thinking the experience is too
frequent to be accounted for by the usual explanation of accident or
coincidence.
Mark Twain’s article on “Mental Telegraphy” is fresh in the minds of
most magazine readers. Whether that article had a basis in the writer’s
actual experience or not, it is a pretty common experience with most
literary men.
“Distance,” says Mr. Tuttle, “has inappreciable influence on the
transference of thought. It may take place in the same room, or where
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
the _Harbinger 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 many 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 have
written; and, making due allowance for time, the date 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.”
Dr. Charles W. Hidden, of Newburyport, Mass., U.S.A., reports a
somewhat similar experience to that of Mark Twain and the above, which
was reported in a recent number of the _Religio-Philosophical Journal_:
A very peculiar plot impressed itself upon his mind, and he immediately
based a story upon the plot. He read the story to his family, and was
about to send it to a publication to which his wife had recently become
a subscriber. When the next number arrived he opened it to learn how to
forward his manuscript, and great was his surprise to find on the first
page a story bearing the title of his own, and a plot almost identical
with that which he had written. Parts of the published article appeared
word for word. It is needless to add that Dr. Hidden tossed his
manuscript into his desk, and it is there yet. His explanation is,
that he caught the title and the plot from another, just as Mark Twain
caught the plot of the “Big Bonanza” from his friend Simmons.
It would be nigh impossible to illustrate the various phases of
thought-transference, ranging, as they do, from the association of
ideas which may be aroused by a hint, a half-uttered word, or a
gesture, to the unmistakable facts of pure mental transference,
and, higher still, to the region of pure psychism, where spirit
influences inspire and direct spirit, and thought-bodies are no longer
recognised as mere subjective spirits but living and tangible objective
personalities, albeit discarnate.
We can say truly with Voltaire, “There is a power that acts within us,
without consulting us.”