wife's family at Southport, leaving my parents to all appearance
in perfect health. The next afternoon we were strolling on the
beach, when I became so depressed that it was impossible for me
to interest myself in anything whatever, so that we soon
returned to the house.
"All at once my wife showed signs of great uneasiness, and said
she was going to her mother's room for a few moments. A minute
afterwards I rose from my armchair and went into the
drawing-room.
"A lady in walking costume came towards me from an adjacent
sleeping-room. I did not notice her features, because her face
was turned away from me; still, I spoke to her, and greeted her
at once, but I do not remember now what I said.
"At the same time, while she was passing before me, my wife was
coming from her mother's chamber, and walked right over the
place where I saw the lady, without seeming to notice her. I
said at once, in great surprise, 'Who is that lady whom you just
met?' 'I met no one,' replied my wife, still more astonished
than I was. 'What!' I replied, 'do you mean to tell me that you
did not see a lady this very minute who passed by just where you
are now? She probably came from your mother's room, and must be
now in the vestibule.'
"'It is impossible,' she said; 'there is positively no one in
the house at this moment but my mother and ourselves.'
"Sure enough. No strange lady had been there, and the search
which we immediately began was without result.
"It was then ten minutes to eight o'clock. The next morning a
telegram informed us of my mother's sudden death from
heart-disease at exactly that hour. She was then in the street,
and dressed precisely like the unknown lady who had passed in
front of me."
Such is the observer's story. The inquiries made by the Society
for Psychical Research have proved its absolute authenticity and
the agreement of the witnesses. It is as positive a fact as a
meteorological, astronomical, philosophical, or chemical observation.
How can it be explained? Coincidence, you will say. Can a strict
scientific criticism be satisfied with this word?
Still another case.
Mr. Frederick Wingfield, living at Belle-Isle en Terre (Côtes-du-Nord),
writes that on the 25th of March, 1880, having gone to bed rather late,
after reading a part of the evening, he dreamed that his brother, living
in the county of Essex, in England, was with him; but instead of
answering a question asked him, merely shook his head, rose from his
chair, and went away. The impression was so strong that the narrator
sprang from his bed half asleep, awaking as his foot touched the floor,
and called his brother. Three days later he received news that his
brother had been killed by a fall from his horse the same day, March
25th, 1880, in the evening, about half-past eight o'clock, a few hours
before the dream just reported.
An inquiry proved that the date of this death was exact, and that the
author of this narrative had written his dream in a diary at the very
date of the event, and not afterwards.
Still another case.
"Mr. S. and Mr. L., both employed in a Government office, had
been intimate friends for eight years. Monday, 19th March, 1883,
L. had an attack of indigestion at his office. He went to a
druggist's, where he was given some medicine, and was told that
his liver was affected. The following Thursday he was no better;
Saturday of that same week he was still absent from the office.
"On Saturday evening, March 24th, S. was at home with a
headache; he told his wife that he was too warm, which he had
not been before for two months; then, after making this remark,
he went to bed, and shortly after he saw his friend L. standing
before him, dressed as usual. S. noticed even this particular
about L.'s clothes, that he had a black band on his hat, and
that his coat was unbuttoned; he also had a cane in his hand. L.
looked directly at S. and passed on. S. then remembered the
sentence in the book of Job, 'A spirit passed before my face;
the hair of my flesh stood up.'
"At that moment he felt a chill run all over his body, and felt
the hair rise on his head. Then he asked his wife,'What time is
it?' She replied,'Ten minutes of nine.' 'I asked you,' he said,
'because L. is dead; I have just seen him.' She tried to
persuade him that it was a pure illusion; but he insisted, in
the most solemn manner, that nothing could induce him to change
his opinion."
This is the story as told by Mr. S. He did not learn of his friend's
death until three o'clock on Sunday. L. had died on Saturday evening at
about ten minutes of nine.
[Illustration]
Agrippa d'Aubigné's historical account of an occurrence at the time of
the Cardinal of Lorraine's death is somewhat like this story:--
"The king being at Avignon on December 23d, 1574, Charles,
Cardinal of Lorraine, died there. The queen (Catherine de
Médicis) had retired to bed earlier than usual, having at her
_coucher_, among other persons of note, the king of Navarre,
the archbishop of Lyons, the ladies de Retz, de Lignerolles, and
de Saunes, two of whom have confirmed this report. As she was
hurrying to finish her good-nights, she threw herself back on
her bed with a start, put her hands over her face with a loud
cry, calling to those about her for help, pointing to the
cardinal at the foot of the bed, who, she said, was holding out
his hand to her. She cried out several times, 'M. le Cardinal, I
have nothing to do with you.' At the same time the king of
Navarre sent one of his gentlemen to the cardinal's house, who
reported that he had died at that very minute."
In his book on "Posthumous Humanity," published in 1882, Adolphe
d'Assier guarantees the authenticity of the following statement, which
was reported by a lady of St. Gaudens as having happened to herself:--
"It was before my marriage," she said, "and I slept with my
elder sister. One night we had just put out the light and gone
to bed. The fire was still burning enough to dimly light the
room. Glancing at the fireplace, to my great surprise I saw a
priest seated before the fire warming himself. He was a stout
man, and had the form and features of an uncle of ours, a priest
who lived in the suburbs. I at once spoke to my sister. The
latter looked at the fireplace and saw the same apparition. She
also recognized our uncle the priest. An indescribable fright
took possession of us, and we both cried 'help' as loud as we
could. My father, who was sleeping in an adjoining room,
aroused by our cries, rose in great haste, and soon came in with
a lighted candle in his hand. The phantom had disappeared; we no
longer saw any one in the chamber. The next day we learned by
letter that our uncle the priest had died the previous evening."
[Illustration]
Another fact is reported by the same disciple of Auguste Comte, and sent
by him while living in Rio de Janeiro.
It was in 1858. In the French colony of that city, people were still
talking about a singular apparition which had taken place there a few
years before. An Alsatian family, consisting of a husband, wife, and
little girl, still almost a baby, sailed for Rio de Janeiro, where they
were to join some compatriots living in that city. The passage was very
long, the wife was taken ill, and lacking proper care and nourishment,
did not live to reach there. The day she died she fell into a swoon,
remained in that state for some time, and when she recovered her senses,
said to her husband, who was watching by her side, "I die happy, for now
I am easy about the fate of our child. I have just come from Rio de
Janeiro. I found our friend Fritz the carpenter's house and street; he
was standing at the door. I showed him our little girl; I feel sure that
on your arrival he will recognize and take care of her." That very day,
at the same hour, Fritz the Alsatian carpenter, of whom I have just
spoken, was standing at the door of the house where he lived in Rio de
Janeiro, when he thought he saw one of his compatriots going along the
street with a little girl in her arms. She looked at him entreatingly,
and seemed to show him the child she was carrying. Her face,
notwithstanding its emaciation, reminded him of Latta, the wife of his
friend and fellow-countryman Schmidt. Her expression, the singularity of
her step, which seemed more like a vision than reality, struck Fritz;
and wanting to be sure that he was not the victim of an illusion, he
called one of his men who was working in the shop, and who was also an
Alsatian from the same locality.
"Look," said he; "do you not see a woman going down the street, holding
a child in her arms, and should you not say that it is Latta, our friend
Schmidt's wife?"
"I cannot say; I do not see her very distinctly," replied the workman.
Fritz said no more; but the different circumstances of this real or
imaginary apparition fixed themselves firmly in his mind, especially the
day and hour. Some time after that, Schmidt, his compatriot, arrived,
carrying a little girl in his arms. Latta's visit then came into Fritz's
mind; and before Schmidt had spoken a word he said to him,--
"I know all, my poor friend: your wife died during the passage. Before
she died, she came and showed me her little girl, that I might take
care of her. Here is the date and hour."
It was really the day and hour noted by Schmidt on board the boat.
In his work on the Phenomena of Magic, published in 1864, Gougenot des
Mousseaux reports the following incident, which he certifies as
absolutely authentic:-
Sir Robert Bruce, belonging to the illustrious Scotch family of that
name, was mate of a vessel. One day, when sailing near Newfoundland, and
while busy with his calculations, he thought he saw the captain seated
at his desk, but looked at him attentively, and noticed that it was a
stranger, whose cold, fixed look surprised him. He went on deck; the
captain noticed his surprise, and asked him what it meant.
"Who is at your desk?" asked Bruce.
"No one."
"Yes, there is some one there. Is it a stranger; and how did he come
there?"
"You are either dreaming or joking."
"Not at all. Come down and see for yourself."
They go down to the cabin, but there is no one at the desk. The ship is
thoroughly searched, but no stranger is found.
"And yet the man I saw was writing on your slate; the writing must be
there still," said he to the captain.
[Illustration]
They looked at the slate; it bore these words: "Steer to the
northwest."
"This must be your writing, or some one's else on board the ship."
"No; I did not write it."
Every one was told to write the same sentence, and no handwriting
resembled that on the slate. "Very well," said the captain; "we will
obey these instructions and steer the ship to the northwest; the wind is
right, and will admit of our trying the experiment."
[Illustration]
Three hours later, the watch perceived an iceberg, and near it a vessel
from Quebec, headed for Liverpool, dismantled and covered with people.
They were brought off by boats of Bruce's vessel.
As one of the men was climbing up the side of the rescuing vessel, Bruce
started, and drew back in great agitation. He recognized the stranger
whom he had seen tracing the words on the slate. He reported the strange
incident to the captain.
"Will you write 'Steer to the northwest' on this slate?" asked the
captain, turning to the new-comer, and offering the side which bore no
writing.
The stranger complied with his request, and wrote the desired words.
"Will you acknowledge that to be your ordinary handwriting?" asked the
captain, struck with the similarity of the two sentences.
"Of course; how can you doubt it? You saw me write it yourself."
As a reply, the captain turned the slate over, and the stranger was
amazed to see his own writing on both sides.
"Did you dream of writing on that slate?" said the Quebec captain to the
man who had just been writing.
"No,--at least I have no remembrance of doing so."
"What was that passenger doing at noon?" asks the rescuer of his brother
captain.
"The passenger was very tired, and had fallen into a sound sleep, as
near as I remember, a little before twelve o'clock. An hour or more
later he awoke, and said to me, 'Captain, we shall be saved this very
day;' adding, 'I dreamed that I was on board a vessel coming to our
relief.' He described the ship and its rigging, and we were very much
surprised, when you headed for us, to recognize the exactness of the
description."
After a while the passenger said, "It is very strange, but somehow this
ship seems quite familiar to me, and yet I was never on it before."
Baron Dupotet, in his article on "Animal Magnetism," reports the
following fact, published in 1814 by the celebrated Jung Stiling, who
had it from the observer himself, Baron de Sulza, chamberlain to the
king of Sweden.
[Illustration]
He was going home one night in summer about twelve o'clock, an hour at
which it is still light enough in Sweden to read the finest print. "As
I reached the family estate," he said, "my father came to the entrance
of the park to meet me; he was dressed as usual, and carried a cane
which my brother had carved. I greeted him, and we talked together for a
long time. We went into the house and up to his bedroom door together.
On going into the chamber I saw my father there, undressed, when the
apparition instantly faded away. A little while afterwards my father
awoke and looked at me inquiringly. 'My dear Edward,' said he, 'God be
praised that I see you safe and well! I was greatly distressed about
you in my dream. I thought that you had fallen into the water and were
in danger of drowning.' Now on that very day," added the baron, "I had
been on the river with some friends crab-fishing, and had come very near
being dragged down by the current. I told my father that I had seen his
double at the park gate, and that we had had a long talk together. He
told me that he had often had similar experiences."
[Illustration]
In these various stories are seen spontaneous apparitions and
appearances which were provoked, so to speak, by the will. Can mental
suggestion go so far as that? The authors of the book mentioned above,
"Phantasms of the Living," reply affirmatively by seven well-attested
examples, of which I will present one to the attention of my readers.
Here it is:--
"The Rev. C. Godfrey, living in Eastbourne, in the county of
Sussex, having read an account of a premeditated apparition, was
so struck thereby that he determined to attempt it himself. On
the fifteenth of November, 1886, about eleven o'clock, he
concentrated the whole power of his imagination and all the
strength of will of which he was master, upon the idea of
appearing to a lady, a friend of his, by standing at the foot of
her bed. The effort lasted about eight minutes, after which Mr.
Godfrey felt very much fatigued, and went to sleep. The next day
the lady who had been the subject of the experiment came of her
own accord to tell Mr. Godfrey of what she had seen. When asked
to make a memorandum, she did so in these words: 'Last night I
awoke with a start, feeling that some one had entered my room. I
heard, too, a noise which I supposed to be the birds in the ivy
outside my window. I then experienced a sort of uneasiness, a
vague desire to leave my room and go down to the lower floor.
This feeling became so strong that at last I rose, intending to
take something to quiet myself. Going up to my room again, I met
Mr. Godfrey standing under the great window which lights the
staircase. He was dressed as I am accustomed to seeing him, and
I noticed that he was looking at something very intently. He
stood there motionless while I held up the lamp and looked at
him in astonishment. This lasted three or four seconds, after
which I continued my way upstairs. He disappeared. I was not
frightened, but very much agitated, and could not go to sleep
again.' Mr. Godfrey thought, very sensibly, that the experiment
which he had tried would have much more importance if it were
repeated. A second attempt failed, but the third was successful.
Of course the lady upon whom he operated was not apprised of his
intention any more than on the first occasion. 'Last night,' she
writes, 'Tuesday, December 7th, I retired to bed at half-past
ten, and was soon asleep. Suddenly I heard a voice, which said,
"Wake up," and I felt a hand touch the left side of my head.
[Mr. Godfrey's intention this time was to make her feel his
presence by voice and touch.] In an instant I was thoroughly
awake. There was a curious noise, like a jews-harp, in the
chamber. I felt, too, a cold breath, which seemed to envelop me.
My heart began to beat violently, and I distinctly saw a figure
leaning over me. The only light in the room came from a lamp
outside, making a long stream of light over the toilet-table;
this was darkened by the figure. I turned quickly, and it seemed
as if the hand fell from my head to the pillow beside me. The
figure was bent over me, and I felt it rest against the edge of
the bed. I saw the arm on the pillow all the time. I could see
the profile of the face but dimly, as if through a haze; it
might have been about a minute and a half. The figure had
slightly pushed back the curtain, but I noticed this morning
that it hung as usual. There is no doubt that the figure was Mr.
Godfrey's. I recognized him by the turn of the shoulders and the
shape of the face. All the time that he was there, a current of
cold air blew through the room as if the two windows had been
open.'"
These are _facts_!
In the present condition of our knowledge it would be absolutely
foolhardy to seek to explain them; our psychology is not yet far enough
advanced. There are a great many things which we are forced to admit,
without the power to explain them in any way. To deny what we cannot
explain would be pure folly. Could any one explain the world's system a
thousand years ago? Even now, can we explain attraction? But science
moves, and its progress will be endless.
Do we know the whole extent of the human faculties? The thinker cannot
for a moment doubt that there may be forces in Nature still unknown to
us,--as, for example, electricity was less than a century ago,--or that
there may be other beings in the universe, endowed with other senses and
faculties. But is terrestrial man entirely known to us? It does not seem
so. There are facts whose reality we are forced to admit, with no power
whatever to explain them.
Swedenborg's life offers three of this nature. Let us put aside for a
moment planetary and sidereal visions, which appear more subjective than
objective. We will remark, by the way, that Swedenborg was a savant of
the first order in geology, mineralogy, and crystallography; a member of
the Academy of Sciences of Upsala, of Stockholm, and of St. Petersburg;
and we will content ourselves with recalling the three following facts.
[Illustration]
The 19th of July, 1759, this philosopher landed at Gothenburg on his
return from a journey to England, and went to dine with a certain
William Costel, where there was quite a large company. At six o' clock
in the evening Swedenborg, who had gone out, came back to the
drawing-room pale and anxious; he said a great fire had at that moment
broken out at Stockholm at the Südermoln, in the street in which he
lived, and that the fire was spreading rapidly towards his house. He
went out again and returned, lamenting that a friend's house had just
been reduced to ashes, and that his own was in the greatest danger. At
eight o'clock, after being out again, he said joyfully, "Thanks be to
God, the fire has been extinguished at the third house from mine!"
The news of this spread throughout the city, which was all the more
excited because the governor gave it attention, and many people were
anxious for their property or friends. Two days afterwards the royal
messenger brought a report of the fire from Stockholm; there was no
disagreement between his account and that which Swedenborg had given.
The fire had been extinguished at eight o'clock.
This anecdote was written by the celebrated Emmanuel Kant, who had
desired to make an inquiry into the facts, and who adds, "What can be
alleged against the authenticity of this occurrence?"
Now, Gothenburg is two hundred kilometres from Stockholm. Swedenborg was
then in his seventy-second year.
Here is the second fact:--
In 1761 Madame de Marteville, widow of a minister from Holland to
Stockholm, received a demand for the sum of twenty-five thousand Dutch
florins (ten thousand dollars), from one of her husband's creditors whom
she knew her husband had paid, and a second payment of which would
greatly embarrass, almost ruin her. It was impossible to find the
receipt. She went to see Swedenborg, and a week later she saw her
husband in a dream; he showed her the piece of furniture in which the
receipt had been placed, together with a hairpin set with twenty
diamonds, which she also believed to be lost. "It was at two o'clock in
the morning. Greatly elated, she rose, and found everything at the place
indicated. Going back to bed, she slept until nine o'clock. About eleven
o'clock, M. de Swedenborg was announced. He told her that he saw M. de
Marteville's spirit the night before, and that he informed him that he
was going to his widow."
And now for the third fact.
[Illustration]
In the month of February, 1772, being in London, Swedenborg sent a note
to the Rev. John Wesley (founder of the Wesleyan sect), telling him that
he should be very glad to make his acquaintance. The zealous preacher
received the note just as he was setting out on a journey, and replied
that he should profit by the gracious permission to visit him, on his
return, which would be in about six months. Swedenborg answered him
"that in that case they would never see each other in this world, as
the 29th of the next month was to be the day of his death."
Swedenborg really died on the date mentioned by himself more than a
month beforehand.
These are three facts whose authenticity it is impossible to doubt, but
which in our present condition of knowledge no one would be able to
explain.
We might multiply these _authentic_ accounts indefinitely. Facts
analogous to those already mentioned of communications from a distance,
whether at the moment of death or in the normal condition of life, are
not so rare--without, however, being very frequent--but that every one
of our readers may have heard such cited, or perhaps have observed them
himself in more than one instance. Besides, experiments made in the
realms of magnetism show also that under certain ascertained
psychological conditions an experimenter can act upon his subject not
only at the distance of a few metres, but of several kilometres, and
even of more than a hundred kilometres, according to the sensitiveness
of the subject, as well as to the intensity of the magnetizer's will.
Moreover, space is not what we suppose. The distance from Paris to
London is great for a walker, and was even insurmountable before the
invention of boats; it is nothing for electricity. The distance from the
Earth to the Moon is great for our present modes of locomotion; it is
nothing for attraction. In fact, from an absolute point of view, the
space which separates us from Sirius is not a greater part of infinity
than the distance from Paris to Versailles, or from your left eye to
your right.