Searchable Theosophical Texts
Theosophy House

Spiritualism and Theosophy
by
C 
The Secret Doctrine by H P Blavatsky
Return to Searchable Text Index
 
Spiritualism and Theosophy
SCIENTIFICALLY EXAMINED AND CAREFULLY DESCRIBED
 BY C 
 THEOSOPHICAL PUBLISHING
HOUSE
adyar, madras, 
1928
 
 
-------
Chapter I
SPIRITUALISTIC PHENOMENA
     
     A quarter of a century
ago I wrote a book called The Other Side of Death, 
in which I described the condition of the next world, quoting many
illustrative 
stories. This book has been out of print for some years, so I have
just issued a 
new edition, much enlarged and brought up to date. Some of its
chapters deal 
with spiritualism; in them I recount many of my own experiences,
and offer my 
readers such explanation of the phenomena as has been suggested to
me by my 
forty-five years’ study of Theosophy. I am now publishing these
chapters 
separately as a smaller book, hoping that it may be of interest to
my 
spiritualistic brethren, and may perhaps even help a little towards
bringing 
about a better understanding between the two camps of Theosophists
and 
Spiritualists, who have so much in common that they surely ought to
co-operate 
and never to waste their time in disputation.
 
     
     THE PHENOMENA NATURAL
     
     The investigation of the
phenomena which take place at spiritualistic 
seances is one of the lines along which information with regard to
man’s 
survival after death might have been obtained. Just as many of the
facts so 
clearly stated for us by Theosophy might have been deduced from
careful 
observation and comparison of the records of apparitions, so also
many of them 
might have been inferred from equally careful examination and
comparison of the 
accounts given in spiritualistic literature. They were not so
inferred, however, 
except by the spiritualists themselves, and not usually clearly
expressed as a 
coherent system even by them. But just as, now that we know the
facts from 
Theosophical sources, we can see how all the various types of apparitions
fall 
into place and are explained by them, so we may also see how
spiritualistic 
manifestations can be classified and comprehended by means of the
same 
knowledge.
     
     It has always seemed to
me that our spiritualistic friends ought to welcome 
the Theosophical system, for much of the difficulty which they find
in 
obtaining acceptance for their phenomena arises from the belief
that their 
claims are in opposition to science, and not in harmony with any
reasonable 
scheme. This idea is an entirely mistaken one, yet spiritualism
does little to 
dispel it; it continues (quite rightly) to insist upon its facts,
but does not 
usually attempt to harmonize them with science. There is, it seems
to me, rather 
a tendency to cry: “How marvellous! how wonderful! how beautiful!”
and to be 
lost in admiration and awe, instead of realizing how entirely
natural it all 
is, and more beautiful because it is so natural. For all that is
really natural 
is beautiful; it is only we, reduced to pessimism by our own
corruption of and 
interference with Nature’s methods, who fall back in doubt, and say
hesitatingly that certain things are too good, too beautiful to be
true — not 
yet understanding that it is precisely because a thing is good and
beautiful 
that it must also be true, and that a far more accurate expression
would be: “It 
is too good not to be true”. For God is Truth, and He is good.
 
     
     How theosophy explains
them
     
     The Theosophical
explanation as to the planes of nature, and the existence 
of many varieties of more finely subdivided matter, with their
appropriate 
forces playing through them, at once opens the way to a
comprehension of many of 
the phenomena of the seance-room. When we further come to
understand the 
possession by man of vehicles corresponding to each of these
planes, in each of 
which he has new and extended powers, much that was before
difficult becomes 
clear as noonday. I have written fully of these capacities in my
little book on 
Clairvoyance, so I need not repeat that account here. It will be
sufficient to 
remark that when we grasp their nature we see at once how it is
possible for the 
dead man, if he is so disposed, to find a passage in a closed book,
to read a 
letter inside a locked box, to see and report what is happening at
any distance, 
or to read the thoughts of any person, present or absent.
     
     All that the dead man
does along any of these lines can be done with equal 
facility by the living man who has developed his latent powers of astral
vision, 
and we thus realize that for a man residing in and functioning
through an astral 
body, these actions which to us appear phenomenal and marvellous
must bear a 
different aspect, for to him they are simply his ordinary everyday
methods of 
procedure. The man who has not studied such matters is unused to
these 
manifestations, and cannot comprehend how they are produced; he
feels toward 
them just as a savage might towards our use of the electric light
or the 
telephone. But the intelligent and cultured man is familiar to some
extent with 
the mechanism in each of these cases, and so he regards the results
obtained no 
longer as magical, but as natural; he looks upon the matter in an
entirely 
different light.
 
     
     A classification
     
     By the light of
Theosophical knowledge of the astral plane and its 
possibilities, then, we may proceed to attempt some sort of
classification of 
the phenomena of the seance-room. Perhaps we shall find it easiest
to arrange 
them according to the powers employed in their production, and in
this way they 
fall readily into five divisions:
    
  Those which involve simply
the use of the medium's body — trance-speaking, 
automatic writing, drawing or painting, and personation; and sometimes
the 
working of the planchette.
    
  Those which are dependent
upon the possession of the ordinary astral sight, 
such as the finding of a passage in a closed book, the reading of
writing 
enclosed within a locked box, the answering of mental questions, or
the finding 
of something or some person that is missing.
    
  Those which involve partial
materialization — usually not carried to the point 
of visibility. Under this head would come raps, the tilting or
turning of 
tables, the moving and floating of objects, slate-writing, or any
kind of 
writing or drawing done directly by the hand of the dead man, and
not through 
the agency of the medium; the touches by the hand of the dead, or
the sound of 
their voices — “the touch of a vanished hand, and the sound of a
voice that is 
still,” for which the poet yearned. Almost all of the minor
activities of the 
seance come in under this head, for to it we must assign the
playing of various 
musical instruments, the winding up and floating about of the
musical box, and 
even the cold wind which is so constant a phenomenon in the earlier
stages of 
the sittings. Probably the working of the planchette or the
message-board called 
the “ouija” usually comes under this category.
    
  Those miscellaneous
activities which demand a somewhat greater knowledge of 
the laws of astral physics, such as the precipitation of writing or
of a 
picture, the intentional production of the various kinds of lights,
the 
duplication of objects, their apport from a distance or their
production in a 
closed room, the passage of matter through matter, or the handling
or the 
production of fire.
    
  Visible materialization.
    
  I propose to take up each
of these classes, and endeavour to illustrate and 
explain them as far as I can, drawing examples sometimes from
recognized books 
upon the subject, and sometimes from my own experience. I spent
much time during 
a good many years in patient investigation of spiritualism, and
there is 
scarcely a phenomenon of any sort of which I read in the books
which I have not 
repeatedly seen under test conditions, so that this is a subject
upon which I 
feel myself able to speak with a certain amount of confidence. It
may perhaps be 
useful for me, as an introduction to our detailed consideration of
the subject, 
to describe how I came to make my first feeble experiments along
this line.
 
    
-------
Chapter II
    
PERSONAL EXPERIENCES
 
    
  the silk hat experiment
    
  The first time that, so far
as I can recollect, I ever heard spiritualism 
mentioned was in connection with the seances held by Mr. D. D. Home
with the 
Emperor Napoleon III. The statements made with reference to those
seemed to me 
at that time quite incredible, and when reading the account of them
aloud to my 
mother one evening I expressed strong doubts as to whether the
description could 
possibly be accurate. The article ended, however, with the remark
that anyone 
who felt unable to credit the story might readily convince himself
of its 
possibility by bringing together a few of his friends, and
inducing them to sit 
quietly round a small table either in darkness or in dim light,
with the palms 
of their hands resting lightly upon the surface of the table. It
was stated that 
a still easier plan was to place an ordinary silk hat upon the
table brim 
upwards, and let two or three people rest their hands lightly upon
the brim. It 
was asserted that the hat or table would presently begin to turn,
and in this 
way the existence of a force not under the control of any one
present would be 
demonstrated.
    
  This sounded fairly simple,
and my mother suggested that, as it was just 
growing dusk and the time seemed appropriate, we should make the experiment
forthwith. Accordingly I took a small round table with a central
leg, the normal 
vocation of which was to support a flower-pot containing a great
arum lily. I 
brought in my own silk hat from the stand in the hall and placed it
on the 
table, and we put our hands upon its brim as prescribed. The only
person 
present besides my mother and myself was a small boy of twelve,
who, as we 
afterwards discovered, was a powerful physical medium; but I knew
nothing about 
mediums then. I do not think that any of us expected any result
whatever, and I 
know that I was immensely surprised when the hat gave a gentle but
decided 
half-turn on the polished surface of the table.
    
  Each of us thought the
other must have moved it unconsciously, but it soon 
settled that question for us, for it twirled and gyrated so
vigorously that it 
was difficult for us to keep our hands upon it. At my suggestion we
raised our 
hands; the hat came up under them, as though attached to them, and
remained 
suspended a couple of inches from the table for a few moments
before falling 
back upon it. This new development astonished me still more, and I
endeavoured 
to obtain the same result again. For a few minutes the hat declined
to respond, 
but when at last it did come up as before, it brought the table
with it! Here 
was my own familiar silk bat, which I had never before suspected of
any occult 
qualities, suspending itself mysteriously in air from the tips of
our fingers, 
and, not content with that defiance of the laws of gravity on its
own account, 
attaching a table to its crown and lifting that also! I looked down
to the feet 
of the table; they were about six inches from the carpet, and no
human foot was 
touching them or near them! I passed my own foot underneath, but
there was 
certainly nothing there — nothing physically perceptible, at any
rate.
    
  Of course when the hat
first moved it had crossed my mind that the small boy 
must somehow be playing a trick upon us; but in the first place he
obviously was 
not doing so, and in the second he could not possibly have produced
this result 
unobserved. After about two minutes the table dropped away from
the hat, and 
almost immediately the latter fell back to its companion, but the
experiment 
was repeated several times at intervals of a few minutes. Then the
table began 
to rock violently, and threw the hat off — a plain hint to us, if
any of us had 
known enough to take it. But none of us had any idea of what to do
next, though 
we were keenly interested in these extraordinary movements. I was
not myself 
thinking of the phenomenon in the least as a manifestation from the
dead, but 
only as the discovery of some strange new force.
    
  I spoke of these curious
occurrences next day to some friends, and found one 
among them who had once or twice seen something of the sort, and
was familiar 
with the rudiments of spiritualistic procedure. I promptly invited
him to join 
us on the following evening, and to assist in our experiments. The
same 
phenomena were reproduced, but this time, by our friend’s aid, we
asked 
questions and found that the table would tilt intelligently in
response to them. 
The communicating entity, however, could not have been a man of
any great 
knowledge, for nothing of any importance was said, either then or
afterwards, 
and the manifestations were always rather of the nature of
horse-play. Their 
most remarkable feature was the enormous physical strength
displayed on several 
occasions. Heavy furniture was frequently dashed violently about,
and sometimes 
considerably damaged, yet none of us was really hurt. Once, later
on, an 
especially sceptical friend had the end of a heavy brass fender
dropped upon his 
foot, but I think he distinctly brought it upon himself by his
impolite remarks!
 
    
  violent demonstrations
    
  The silk hat was ruined at
the second seance, so thereafter we placed our 
hands directly upon the table — or at least we commenced by doing
so, for after 
a few minutes it was usually waltzing about so wildly that we could
only 
occasionally touch it. At the third sitting (if that term be not a
misnomer as 
applied to an evening spent mainly in jumping about to avoid the
charges of 
various articles of furniture) our little table suffered considerably.
During a 
moment of comparative rest, when we were able to keep our hands on
it, we beard 
a curious whirring sound underneath it, and some small object fell
to the floor. 
Picking it up we found it to be a screw, and wondered where the
“spirits” had 
obtained such a thing, and why they had brought it. Twice more the
same 
whirring sound was heard, and two more screws were presented to
us, but even 
yet we did not realize what was being done.
    
  Suddenly we were startled
by what I can only describe as an exceedingly heavy 
kick on the under side of the table, which dashed it upwards
against our hands 
and all but threw us over. The effect precisely resembled that of a
vigorous 
kick from a heavy boot, and it was repeated three or four times in
rapid 
succession until the top of the table was broken away from the leg.
The leg 
waltzed off by itself, while the top fell to the floor, but by no
means to lie 
quiet there. If a coin be set spinning with the thumb and fingers
upon a smooth 
surface it displays a peculiar wobbling rotation just as it is in
the act of 
settling down to rest. That was exactly the motion of this table
upon the floor, 
and two strong men, kneeling upon it, and exerting all their force
to hold it 
down, were unable to do so, but were thrown off apparently with the
utmost ease.
    
  As we were holding it as
nearly down upon the carpet as we could, the same 
prodigious kicks came underneath it as before, so that whoever
kicked could 
evidently do so through the carpet and the floor of the room
without the 
slightest hindrance. It was only after the performance was over,
and we came to 
examine our table, that we understood what had happened. The entity
who was 
playing with us had apparently wished to separate the top of the
table from the 
lower part, and had somehow contrived to extract three of the
screws as though 
with a screw-driver; but the fourth had been rusted in and could
not be 
removed—hence apparently the kicks which broke it out and
accomplished the 
separation.
    
  This exhibition of
prodigious strength at a seance is by no means unusual. In 
describing one which took place on Staten Island in the spring of
1870, Mr. 
Robert Dale Owen remarks:
    
  “Then — probably
intensified by the darkness — commenced a demonstration 
exhibiting more physical force than I had ever before witnessed. I
do not 
believe that the strongest man living could, without a handle fixed
to pull by, 
have jerked the table with anything like the violence with which it
was now, as 
it seemed, driven from side to side. We all felt it to be a power,
a single 
stroke from which would have killed any one of us on the spot.”
(The Debatable 
Land, p. .)
 
    
  evidence of unknown power
    
  These phenomena, which thus
came so unexpectedly into my life, would no doubt 
have been despised as frivolous by the veteran spiritualist, but to
me they were 
exceedingly interesting. They took place in my own house, they were
entirely 
unconnected with any professional medium, and they were
incontrovertibly free 
from any suspicion of trickery. Consequently here were certain
indubitable 
facts, absolutely new to me, and needing investigation. I had no
knowledge then 
that there was a considerable literature upon the subject, and I
was not 
expecting from this study any proof of the life after death. So
far, I had had 
evidence only of the existence of some unseen intelligence, capable
of wielding 
enormous power of a kind quite different from any recognized by
science. But it 
was precisely that power which interested me, and I was anxious to
discover 
whether there was any method by which it could be utilized for the
general 
benefit.
    
  We never advanced much
further in these home investigations. My mother feared 
the destruction of her furniture, and in deference to her
objections we simply 
suspended operations when the forces became too boisterous,
resuming our sitting 
only when things quieted down. We had no raps, and no direct
voices; any 
communications which came were always given by the tilting or
rising of the 
table. The entity concerned seemed willing enough to give tests
along its own 
peculiar lines. For example, it occurred to us one evening to ask
whether the 
table could rise in the air without our hands resting upon it; it
promptly 
responded that it could and would, so we all drew back hastily, and
watched that 
table rise till its feet were about a yard from the ground, while
it was 
entirely out of the reach of every member of the party. It remained
suspended 
for perhaps a minute or rather more, and then sank gently to the
carpet.
 
    
  lights
    
  Lights of various kinds
frequently appeared, but usually they gave us the 
impression not so much of being intentionally shown as of
manifesting 
incidentally in the course of other phenomena. They were of three
varieties: 
(a) little sparkling lights like those of fireflies, which used to
play over and 
about our hands, while they rested on the table; (b) large pale
luminous bodies, 
several inches in diameter and often crescent-shaped; (c) a vivid
flash 
resembling lightning, which on one occasion crossed the room and
struck and 
overthrew a large plant in a pot, leaving upon it distinct marks of
scorching, 
much as I suppose lightning might have done. The first and third
varieties gave 
us the impression of being electrical, while the second appeared to
be rather 
phosphorescent in nature. Nothing occurred that we could definitely
call 
materialization, though dark bodies of some sort occasionally
passed between us. 
These phenomena usually took place by firelight, though on one
occasion we 
obtained a few much modified manifestations in full daylight. The
room appeared 
to become charged with some kind of force, as though with
electricity; for at 
least an hour after the seance was closed the furniture continued
to creak 
mysteriously, and the table on several occasions moved out two or
three feet 
from its corner after its flowerpot had been replaced upon it.
    
  The messages were quite a
subordinate feature, and it seemed difficult for the 
entity, whatever it may have been, to curb its exuberant spirits
long enough to 
go through the tedious process of spelling out a message by tilts.
We made many 
attempts to obtain definite information in this way, but met with
no success. It 
always gave us the impression of being in a condition of wild
rollicking 
enjoyment, too much excited to be patient or coherent. Frequently
the table 
would dance vigorously and untiringly, keeping time with any music
that we 
played or sang. Its favorite tune appeared to be the well-known
spiritualistic 
hymn, “Shall we gather at the river?” and if at any time the power
seemed 
deficient or the manifestations lethargic, we had only to sing that
air to rouse 
it at once into a condition of the wildest enthusiasm and agility.
Sometimes it 
was decidedly mischievous, and when it could be induced to deliver
a message it 
was by no means always consistent or truthful. It appeared to be
capable of 
annoyance; certainly on one occasion when I denounced one of its
statements as 
false, the table leaped straight at me, and would apparently have
struck me 
severely in the face, if I had not caught it on its way. Even so,
as I held it 
in the air, it made violent efforts to get at me, and had to be
dragged away 
forcibly by my friends, just as though it had been an infuriated
animal. But in 
a few moments its strength or its passion seemed to give out, and
it was 
harmless once more.
    
  Prominent in my memory is
one occasion on which the forces engaged in these 
demonstrations actually drove us out of the room. From the
beginning of the 
seance the control of the proceedings was taken entirely out of
our hands. 
Chairs rushed about like living creatures, a heavy sofa swung out
from its place 
by the wall into the middle of the floor, and a tall piano, of the
obsolete type 
which used to be called an upright grand, leaned over me at a
dangerous angle. 
Trying to save it from a heavy fall, I braced myself against it and
called one 
of my friends to assist me. He struck a match and lit a candle,
which he placed 
on a table, hoping that the light would check the manifestations.
The table, 
however, gave a kind of leap which threw the candle on to the floor
and 
extinguished it, and at once pandemonium reigned all round us,
heavy articles of 
furniture crashing together.
    
  It was manifest that our
lives were in danger, so, holding back the piano with 
all my strength, I shouted to my friend to open the door. After
frenzied efforts 
he succeeded in tearing it open, I sprang back from the toppling
piano, and we 
all fled ignominiously into the hall. The door banged behind us,
and for a 
minute or more the crashes inside continued; then silence ensued.
After five 
minutes or so we opened the door and entered with lights, and found
all the 
massive furniture piled in a vast heap in the middle of the room —
some of it 
badly broken, of course; and yet on the whole there was far less
damage than one 
would have expected from the tremendous noise made. After this
demonstration my 
mother banished us and our experiments to an outhouse!
 
    
  professional mediums
    
  Stimulated by these
experiences, I began to make further enquiries, and soon 
found that there were books and periodicals devoted to this
subject, and that I 
might carry my investigations much further by coming into connection
with 
regular mediums. I attended a large number of public seances, and
saw many 
interesting things at them, but the most remarkable and
satisfactory results, I 
soon found, were obtainable only when the circles were small and
harmonious. I 
therefore frequently had private seances, and often invited mediums
to my own 
house, where I could be perfectly certain that there existed no
machinery by 
means of which trickery could be practiced. In this way I soon
acquired a good 
deal of experience, and was able to satisfy myself beyond all doubt
that some at 
least of the manifestations were due to the action of those whom we
call the 
dead.
    
  I found mediums of all
sorts, good, bad and indifferent. There were some who 
were earnest and enthusiastic, and honestly anxious to aid the
enquirer to 
understand the phenomena. Others were incredibly ignorant and
illiterate, though 
probably honest enough; others again impressed me as sanctimonious,
oleaginous 
and untrustworthy. A little experience, however, soon taught me
upon whom I 
could depend, and I restricted my experiments accordingly. I
pursued them for a 
good many years, and during that time saw many strange things —
many which would 
probably be deemed incredible by those unfamiliar with these
studies, if I 
should endeavour to describe them. Such of them as aptly illustrate
our various 
classes I may perhaps cite as we go on; but to give the whole of
those 
experiences would need a much larger book than this.
    
  Let us turn now to our
classification.
 
-------Cardiff Theosophical Society in Wales-------
206 Newport Road, Cardiff, Wales, UK. CF24-1DL 
    
Chapter III
    
UTILIZATION OF THE MEDIUM’S BODY
 
    
  what mediumship is
    
  It seems obvious that the
easiest course for a dead man who wishes to 
communicate with the physical plane is to utilize a physical body,
if he is able 
to find one which it is within his power to manage. This method
does not involve 
the learning of unfamiliar and difficult processes, as
materialization does; he 
simply enters into the body provided for him and uses it precisely
as he was in 
the habit of using his own. One of the characteristics of a medium
is that his 
principles are readily separable, arid therefore he is able and
usually willing 
thus to yield up his body for the temporary use of another when
required. Such 
resignation of his vehicle may be either partial or total; that is
to say, the 
medium may retain his consciousness as usual, and yet permit his
hand to be 
employed by another for the purposes of automatic writing; or in
some cases his 
vocal organs may also be thus employed by another while he is still
in 
possession of his body, and understands fully what is being said.
On the other 
hand he may retire from his body just as he would do in deep sleep,
allowing the 
dead man to enter and make the fullest possible use of the deserted
tenement. In 
this latter case the medium himself is quite unconscious of all
that is said or 
done; or at least, if he is able to observe to some extent by means
of his 
astral senses, he does not usually retain any recollection of it
when he resumes 
control of his physical brain.
 
    
  trance-speaking
    
  A certain type of
spiritualism — one which has a large number of adherents — 
is almost entirely occupied with this phase of mediumship. There
are many groups 
to whom spiritualism is a religion, and they attend a Sunday
evening meeting and 
listen to a trance-address just as people of other denominations go
to church 
and hear a sermon. Nor does the average trance-address in any way
differ from 
the average sermon in intellectual ability; its tone is commonly
vaguer, though 
somewhat more charitable; but its exhortations follow the same
general lines. 
Broadly speaking, there is never anything new in either of them,
and they both 
continue to offer us the advice which our copy-book headings used
to give us at 
school — “Be good and you will be happy,” “Evil communications
corrupt good 
manners,” and so on. But the reason that these maxims are eternally
repeated is 
simply that they are eternally true; and if people who pay no
attention to them 
when they find them in a copy-book will believe them and act upon
them when they 
are spoken by a dead man or rapped out through a table, then it is
emphatically 
well that they should have their pabulum in the form in which they
can 
assimilate it.
    
  Trance-speaking of the
ordinary type is naturally less convincing as a 
phenomenon than many others, for it is undeniable that a slight
acquaintance 
with the histrionic art would enable a person of average
intelligence to 
simulate the trance-condition and deliver a mediocre sermon. I have
heard some 
cases in which the change of voice and manner was so entire as to
be of itself 
convincing; I have seen cases where speech in a language unknown to
the medium, 
or reference to matters entirely outside his knowledge, assured one
of the 
genuineness of the phenomenon. But on the other hand I have heard
many a trance 
address in which all the vulgarities, the solecisms in grammar and
the hideous 
mispronunciations of an illiterate medium were so closely
reproduced that it was 
difficult indeed to believe that the man was not shamming. Such
cases as this 
last have no evidential value, yet even in them I have learnt that
it is well to 
be charitable, and to allow the medium as far as possible the
benefit of the 
doubt; for I know, first, that a medium attracts round him dead men
of his own 
type, not differing much from his level of advancement or culture;
and 
secondly, that any communication which comes through a medium is
inevitably 
coloured to a large extent by that medium’s personality, and might
easily be 
expressed in his style and by means of such language as he would
normally use.
 
    
  automatic writing
    
  The same remarks apply in
the case of automatic writing. Sometimes the dead 
man controls the medium’s organism sufficiently to write clearly, 
characteristically, unmistakably; but more often the handwriting is
a compromise 
between his own and that of the medium, and frequently it
degenerates into an 
almost illegible scrawl. Here again I have seen cases which carried
their own 
proof on the face of them, either by the language in which they
were written or 
by internal evidence. Sometimes also curious tricks are attempted
which make any 
theory of fraud exceedingly improbable. For example, I have seen a
whole page of 
writing dashed off in a few minutes, but written backward, so that
one had to 
hold it before a mirror in order to be able to read it. In another
case, before 
a sitting with Mrs. Jencken (better known by her maiden-name of
Kate Fox, as the 
little girl who first discovered in 1847 that raps would answer
questions 
intelligently, and so founded modern spiritualism), her little
baby-in-arms, 
perhaps twelve months old, took a pencil in its tiny hand and wrote
— wrote 
firmly and rapidly a message purporting to come from a dead man.
What 
intelligence guided that baby hand I am not prepared to say, but it
certainly 
could not have been that of its legitimate owner, and it was
equally certainly 
not that of its mother, for she held the child away from her while
it wrote.
 
    
  the private archangel
    
  Frequently people who are
not mediums in any other sense of the word appear to 
be open to influence along this line. A large number of persons are
in the habit 
of receiving private communications written through their own
hands; and the 
vast majority of them attach quite undue importance to them. Again
and again I 
have been assured by worthy ladies that the whole Theosophical
teaching 
contained nothing new for them, since it had all been previously
revealed to 
them by their own special private teacher, who was of course a
person of 
entirely superhuman glory, knowledge and power — an Archangel at
least! When I 
come to investigate I usually find the Archangel to be some worthy
departed 
gentleman who has either been taught, or has discovered for
himself, some 
portion of the facts with regard to astral life and evolution, and
is deeply 
impressed with the idea that if he can only make this known to the
world at 
large it will necessarily effect a radical change and reform in the
entire life 
of humanity. So he seeks and finds some impressible lady, and urges
upon her the 
conviction that she is a chosen vessel for the regeneration of
mankind, that she 
has a mighty work to do to which her life must be devoted, that
future ages will 
bless her name, and so on.
    
  In all this the worthy
gentleman is usually quite serious; he has now realized 
a few of the elementary facts of life, and he cannot but feel what
a difference 
it would have made in his conduct and his attitude if he had
realized them while 
still on the physical plane. He rightly concludes that if he could
induce the 
whole world really to believe this, a great change would ensue; but
he forgets 
that practically all that he has to say has been taught in the
world for 
thousands of years, and that while he was in earth-life he paid no
more 
attention to it than others are now likely to pay to his
lucubrations. It is the 
old story over again: “If they hear not Moses and the prophets,
neither will 
they be persuaded though one rose from the dead”.
    
  Of course a little common
sense and a little acquaintance with the literature 
of this subject would save these worthy ladies from their delusion
of a mission 
from on high; but self-conceit is subtle and deeply-rooted, and the
idea of 
being specially chosen out of all the world for a divine
inspiration is, I 
suppose, pleasurable to a certain type of people. Usually the
communications are 
infinitely far from “containing all the Theosophical teaching”;
they contain 
perhaps a few fragments of it, or more often a few nebulous
generalizations 
tending somewhat in the Theosophical direction.
    
  Occasionally also the
instructor is a living man in the astral body — usually 
an Oriental; and in that case it is perfectly natural that his
information 
should have a Theosophical flavour. It must be recollected that
Theosophy is in 
no sense new, but is the oldest teaching in the world, and that the
broad 
outlines of its system are perfectly well known everywhere outside
of the limits 
of the extraordinary cloud of ignorance on philosophical subjects
which 
Christianity appears to bring in its train. It is therefore small
wonder that 
any glimpse of a wider and more sensible theory should seem to have
something of 
Theosophy about it; but naturally it will rarely be found to have
either the 
precision or the fullness of the scheme as given to us by the
Masters of Wisdom 
through Their pupil Madame Blavatsky.
    
  It appears to make the
process of writing through the hand of the medium even 
easier for the dead man when that hand is rested upon the little
board called 
planchette. This form of manifestation, however, does not always
belong to our 
present category. Sometimes it seems that the hand of the medium
moves the 
planchette, though it is not by his intelligence that it is
directed, for it 
often writes in languages or about matters of which he is ignorant.
But on other 
occasions it appears to move rather under his hand than with it,
suggesting 
that it is charged with the vital force from his hand, just as the
hat or the 
table was in the experiments previously described. In that case
the movement of 
the board would probably be directed by another partially
materialized hand, and 
so the phenomenon would belong to our third class.
 
    
  drawing or painting
    
  The phenomenon of automatic
drawing or painting is of exactly the same nature 
as that of writing, though it is not nearly so common, because the
art of 
drawing is much less widely diffused than is that of writing. Still
it sometimes 
happens that a dead man has a talent for rapid drawing, and can
quickly produce 
a pretty little landscape or a passable portrait through the hand
of a 
readily-impressible medium. There are certain mediums who make a
speciality of 
this obtaining of portraits of the dead, and they apparently find
that it pays 
them exceedingly well. I have myself seen passable work produced in
this way, 
though not equal to that done directly by the hand of the dead man,
or by 
precipitation. There are also cases in which such portraits are
drawn by a 
living person who is himself clairvoyant; but that is obviously not
an example 
of mediumship at all, and so does not come into our present
category.
    
  It must be remembered that
for the production of a portrait of a dead person 
by any of these methods it is not in the least necessary that he
should be 
present, though of course he may be. But when surviving friends
come to a seance 
expecting and earnestly hoping for a portrait of some dead man,
their thought of 
him, so strongly tinged with desire, makes an effective image of him
in astral 
matter, and this is naturally clearly visible to any other dead
man, so that the 
portrait can be drawn quite easily from it. It is, however, also
true that this 
same strong thought about the dead man is certain to attract his
attention, and 
he is therefore likely to come and see what is being done. So it is
always 
possible that he may be present, but the portrait is not proof of
it.
 
    
  personation
    
  I am employing this term in
a technical sense which is well known to those who 
have studied these phenomena. I am aware that it has also been
employed to 
describe those cases in which a dishonest medium has presented
himself before 
his audience as a “spirit-form”, but I am dealing with occurrences
of a type 
quite different from that. All who have seen good examples of
trance-speaking 
will have noticed how the entire expression of the medium’s face
changes, and 
how he adopts all kinds of little tricks of manner and speech,
which are really 
those of the man who is speaking through his organism.
    
  There are instances in
which this process of change and adaptation goes much 
further than this — in which a distinct temporary alteration
actually takes 
place in the features of the medium. Sometimes this change is only
apparent and 
not real, the fact being that the earnest effort of the ensouling
personality to 
express himself through the medium acts mesmerically upon his
friend, and 
deludes him into thinking that he really sees the features of the
dead man 
before him. When that is so the phenomenon is of course purely
subjective, and a 
photograph taken of the medium at that moment would show his face
just as it 
always is.
    
  Sometimes, however, the
change is real and can be shown to be so by means of 
the camera. When this is so, there are still two methods by which
the effect may 
be produced. I have seen at least one case of apparent change of
feature in 
which what really took place may best be described as the partial 
materialization of a mask; that is to say, such parts of the
medium’s face as 
corresponded fairly well with that to be represented were left
untouched, 
whereas other parts which were entirely unsuitable were covered
with a thin mask 
of materialized matter which made them up into an almost perfect
imitation, 
though slightly larger than the original. But I have also seen
other cases in 
which the face to be represented was much smaller than that of the
medium, and 
the exact imitation secured undoubtedly involved an alteration in
the form of 
the medium’s features. This will naturally seem an absolute
impossibility to one 
who has not made a special study of these things, for the majority
of us little 
recognize the extreme fluidity and impermanence of the physical
body, and have 
no conception how readily it may be modified under certain
conditions.
 
    
  impressibility of the
physical body
    
  There is plenty of evidence
to show this, though the circumstances which call 
into operation forces capable of producing such a result are
fortunately rare. 
In Isis Unveiled, vol. i, p. 368, Madame Blavatsky gives us a
series of ghastly 
examples of the way in which the thought or feeling of a mother can
change the 
physical body of her unborn child. Cornelius Gemma tells of a child
that was 
born with his forehead wounded and running with blood, the result
of his 
father's threats towards his mother with a drawn sword which he
directed towards 
her forehead. In Van Helmont's De Injectis Materialibus it is
reported that the 
wife of a tailor at Mechlin saw a soldier’s hand cut off in a
quarrel, which so 
impressed her that her child was born with only one hand, the other
arm 
bleeding. The wife of a merchant of Antwerp, seeing a soldier who had
just lost 
his arm, brought forth a daughter with one arm struck off and
bleeding. Another 
woman witnessed the beheading of thirteen men by order of the Duc
d’Alva. In her 
case also the child, quite perfect in other respects, was born
without a head 
and with bleeding neck.
    
  The whole question of the
appearance of stigmata on the human body, which 
seems so thoroughly well authenticated, is only another instance of
the 
influence of mind upon physical matter; for just as the mind of the
mother acts 
upon the foetus, so do the minds of various saints, or of women
like Catherine 
Emmerich, act upon their own organism. On p. 384 of The Night Side
of Nature we 
find another rather horrible example of the action of violent
emotion upon the 
physical body.
    
  A letter from Moscow,
addressed to Dr. Kerner in consequence of reading the 
account of the Nun of Dulmen, relates a still more extraordinary
case. At the 
time of the French invasion, a Cossack having pursued a Frenchman
into a cul de 
sac, an alley without an outlet, there ensued a terrible conflict
between them, 
in which the latter was severely wounded. A person who had taken
refuge in this 
close, and could not get away, was so dreadfully frightened that
when he reached 
home there broke out on his body the very same wounds that the
Cossack had 
inflicted on his enemy.
    
  We shall have to refer to
this question when dealing with materializations; 
but in the meantime, and as far as personation is concerned, I can
myself 
testify that it is possible for the physical features of a medium
to be 
completely changed for a time into the exact resemblance of those
of the dead 
man who is speaking through him. This phenomenon is not common, so
far as I have 
seen or heard, and we may presume that the reason for its rarity is
that 
ordinary materialization would probably be easier to produce. The
personation, 
however, took place in full daylight on each occasion when I
witnessed it; 
whereas materialization is usually performed by artificial light,
and there must 
not be too much even of that, for reasons which will be explained
when we come 
to deal with that side of the question.
 
    
  using force thbough the
medium
    
  Speaking, writing and
drawing are by no means the only actions performed 
through the body of the medium. Sometimes it is used for more
extensive and even 
violent activities. M. Flammarion records a striking case of the
kind (After 
Death, p. 100) in which the “spirit” took possession of the medium
in order to 
attempt to revenge himself. The case first appeared in Luce e Ombra
(Rome, 
1920), and the Revue Spirite (1921, p. 214), and was witnessed by
M. Bozzano, 
the writer. Though the incident occurred in 1904, M. Bozzano felt
that he could 
not publish an account of it before the death of the chief person
concerned. He 
writes:
    
  Today I can speak of it in
the general interest of metaphysical research, 
omitting, however, the name of the person chiefly concerned.
    
  Seance held on April 5, . —
The following were present: Dr. Guiseppe 
Venzano, Ernesto Bozzano, the Cavaliere Carlo Perefcti, Signore X—,
Signora 
Guidetta Peretti, and the medium L. P. The seance was begun at ten
o’clock in 
the evening.
    
  From the beginning we noted
that the medium was troubled, for some unknown 
reason. The spirit-guide Luigi, the medium's father, did not
manifest himself, 
and L. P. gazed with terror toward the left corner of the room.
Shortly 
afterward he freed himself from his “spirit-controls”, rose to his
feet, and 
began a singularly realistic and impressive struggle against some
invisible 
enemy. Soon he uttered cries of terror, drew back, threw himself to
the floor, 
gazed toward the corner as though terrified, then fled to the other
corner of 
the room, shouting: “Back! Go away. No, I don’t want to. Help me!
Save me!” Not 
knowing what to do, the witnesses of these scenes concentrated
their thoughts 
with intensity upon Luigi, the spirit-guide, and called upon him to
aid. The 
expedient proved effective, for little by little the medium grew
calmer, gazed 
with less anxiety toward the corner of the apartment; then his eyes
took on the 
expression of someone who looks at a distant spectacle, then a
spectacle still 
more distant. At last he gave vent to a long sigh of relief and
murmured: “He’s 
gone! What a bestial face!”
    
  Soon afterwards, the
spirit-guide Luigi manifested himself. Expressing himself 
through the medium, he told us that in the room in which the seance
was being 
held there was a spirit of the basest nature, against which it was
impossible 
for him to struggle; that the intruder bore an implacable hatred
for one of the 
persons of the group. Then the medium exclaimed in a frightened
voice: “There he 
is again! I can't defend you any longer. Stop the ...”
    
  It is certain that Luigi
wished to say, “stop the seance”, but it was already 
too late. The evil spirit had taken possession of our medium. He
shouted; his 
eyes shot glances of fury; his hands, lifted as though to seize
something, moved 
like the claws of a wild beast, eager to clutch his prey. And the
prey was 
Signore X—, at whom the medium’s furious looks were cast. A
rattling and a sort 
of concentrated roaring issued from our medium’s foam-covered lips,
and suddenly 
these words burst from him: “I’ve found you again at last, you
coward! I was a 
Royal Marine. Don't you remember the quarrel in Oporto? You killed
me there. But 
today I’ll have my revenge and strangle you.”
    
  These distracted words were
uttered as the hands of the medium, L. P., seized 
the victim’s throat, and tightened on it like steel pincers. It was
a fearful 
sight. The whole of Signore X—’s tongue hung from his wide-open
mouth, his eyes 
bulged. We had gone to the unfortunate man’s assistance. Uniting
our efforts 
with all the energy which this desperate situation lent us, we
succeeded, after 
a terrible hand-to-hand struggle, in freeing him from the desperate
grip. At 
once we pulled him away, and thrust him outside, locking the door.
We barred the 
medium’s access to the door; exasperated, he tried to break through
this barrier 
and run after his enemy. He roared like a tiger. It took all four
of us to hold 
him. At last, he suffered a total collapse and sank down upon the
floor.
    
  On the following day we
prepared to clear up this affair — to seek information 
which might enable us to confirm what “the Oporto spirit” had said.
We were, in 
fact, already quite certain of the truth of the accusation, for it
was 
noteworthy that Signore X— had not protested in the least while the
serious 
charge of homicide had been hurled at him.
    
  The words uttered by the
furious spirit served me as a means for arriving at 
the truth. He had said, “I was a Royal Marine”. And I knew vaguely
that Signore 
X— had, himself, in his youth, been an officer of marines; that he
had witnessed 
the battle of Lissa, and that after resigning his commission he had
devoted 
himself to commercial enterprises. With these facts as a basis, I
proceeded to 
ask a retired vice-admiral for other details; he, too, had fought
at Lissa. As 
for Dr. Venzano, he questioned a relative of Signore X—, with whom
the latter 
had broken off all relations years before. Between us we gathered
separate bits 
of information which tallied amazingly, and which, brought
together, led us to 
these conclusions:
    
  Signore X— had indeed
served with the Royal Marines. One day, being upon a 
battle-ship on a training cruise, he had landed for some hours at
Oporto, 
Portugal. During his stay, while he was walking in the city, he
heard a noise of 
drunken, furious voices coming from an inn. He perceived that the
language was 
Italian, and, realizing that it was a quarrel between men of his
vessel, he went 
into the room, recognized his men, and commanded them to return to
their ship. 
One of the drinkers, more intoxicated than the others, answered him
back, and 
even went so far as to threaten his superior officer. Angered by
his attitude, 
the officer drew his sword and plunged it into the insolent
fellow’s breast; the 
latter died soon afterward. As a result of this adventure, the
officer was 
court-martialled, was sentenced to six months’ imprisonment, and,
on the 
expiration of his term, was asked to resign his commission.
    
  Those are the facts; it
follows from them that the disturbing spirit had not 
lied. He had exactly stated his rank as a Royal Italian Marine. He
had 
remembered that Signore X— had killed him. He had, moreover — and
this was a 
particularly remarkable statement—indicated the place where he had
died, the 
setting for the drama, Oporto.
    
  A painstaking enquiry
confirmed the authenticity of all this. By what 
hypothesis could one explain occurrences so strikingly in
agreement — those 
which were revealed to us at the seance of April 5, 1904, and those
which had 
taken place in Portugal many years before?
 
  
-------Cardiff Theosophical Society in Wales-------
206 Newport Road, Cardiff, Wales, UK. CF24-1DL 
    
   
Chapter IV
    
CLAIRVOYANCE IN SPIRITUALISM
 
    
  clairvoyant faculties
    
  Many of the phenomena
commonly displayed at a spiritualistic gathering are 
simply the manifestation of the ordinary powers and faculties
natural to the 
astral plane, such as are possessed by every dead man. I have
already explained 
in my little work on Clairvoyance what these powers are, and any
one who will 
take the trouble to read that will see how clearly the possession
of such senses 
accounts for the faculty so often exhibited by the dead of reading
a closed book 
or a sealed letter, or describing the contents of a locked box. I
have had 
repeated evidence through many different mediums of the possession
of this 
power; sometimes the knowledge obtained by its means was given out
through the 
medium’s body in trance-speaking, and at other times it was
expressed directly 
by the dead man, either in his own voice or by slate-writing.
    
  These astral faculties
sometimes include a certain amount of prevision, though 
this is possessed in varying degrees; and they also frequently give
the power of 
psychometry and of looking back to some extent into events of the
past. The way 
in which this is sometimes done is shown in the following story,
given to us by 
Dr. Lee, in his Glimpses of the Supernatural, vol. ii, p. .
 
    
  the missing papers
    
  A commercial firm at
Bolton, in Lancashire, had found that a considerable sum 
of money which had been sent to their bank by a confidential clerk
had not been 
placed to their credit. The clerk remembered the fact of taking the
money, 
though not the particulars, but at the bank nothing was known of
it. The clerk, 
feeling that he was liable to suspicion in the matter, and anxious
to elucidate 
it, sought the help of a spirit-medium. The medium promised to do
her best. 
Having heard the story, she presently passed into a kind of trance.
Shortly 
after, she said: “I see you go to the bank — I see you go to such
and such a 
part of the bank — I see you hand some papers to a clerk — I see
him put them in 
such and such a place under some other papers — and I see them
there now.”
    
  The clerk went to the bank,
directed the cashier where to look for the money, 
and it was found; the cashier afterwards remembering that in the
hurry of 
business he had there deposited it. A relation of mine saw this
story in a 
newspaper at the time, and wrote to the firm in question, the name
of which was 
given, asking whether the facts were as stated. He was told in
reply that they 
were. The gentleman who was applied to, having corrected one or two
unimportant 
details in the above narration, wrote on November 9, 1847: “Your
account is 
correct. I have the answer of the firm to my enquiry at home now.”
    
  The description given does
not make it absolutely clear whether this was a 
case of clairvoyance on the part of the medium, or of the use of
ordinary 
faculty by a dead man; but since the medium passed into a
trance-condition the 
latter supposition seems the more probable. The dead man could
easily gather 
from the clerk’s mind the earlier part of his story, and thus put
himself en 
rapport with the scene; and then by following it to its close he
was able to 
supply the information required. Here is the authenticated record
of another 
good example of such a case, in which the power of thought-reading
is much more 
prominently exhibited, since all the questions were mental. It is
extracted 
from the Report on Spiritualism, published by Longman, London, in
1871, and is 
to be found in the Examination of the Master of Lindsay, p. .
 
    
  A lost will
    
  A friend of mine was very
anxious to find the will of his grandmother, who had 
been dead forty years, but could not even find the certificate of
her death. I 
went with him to the Marshalls’, and we had a seance; we sat at a
table, and 
soon the raps came; my friend then asked his questions mentally; he
went over 
the alphabet himself, or sometimes I did so, not knowing the
question. We were 
told (that) the will had been drawn by a man named William Walter,
who lived at 
Whitechapel; the name of the street and the number of the house
were given. We 
went to Whitechapel, found the man, and subsequently, through his
aid, obtained 
a copy of the draft; he was quite unknown to us, and had not always
lived in 
that locality, for he had once seen better days. The medium could
not possibly 
have known anything about the matter, and even if she had, her
knowledge would 
have been of no avail, as all the questions were mental.
    
  As I have already said, the
faculty of clairvoyance is often possessed by 
living persons, as well as by the dead. Even in this case, in which
the 
information was communicated by means of raps, it is still within
the bounds of 
possibility that it may have been acquired by the living and
transmitted to the 
physical-plane consciousness by this external means. There is an
ever-increasing 
volume of testimony to the fact of this clairvoyance; Dr. Geley has
done 
splendid service by giving much that is new and valuable in his
recent work 
Clairvoyance and Materialization. In his account of the
clairvoyance of Mr. 
Ossowiecki, which includes many tests of his ability to read
sentences enclosed 
in sealed opaque envelopes, he tells us that this seer has from
time to time 
been able to discover articles which have been lost or stolen. In
contact with 
the loser he was able after brief concentration to say where the
object was 
lost, and sometimes also where it could be found.
 
    
  the lost brooch
    
  He gives the following
account of one such case which was sent to him by Mme 
Aline de Glass, wife of a Judge of the Supreme Court of Poland. The
account is 
also attested by her brother, M. Arthur de Bondy:
 
    
  warsaw, wspolna, 7
    
  July 22, 1922
    
  Sir,
    
  I have the honour to inform
you of an actual miracle that Mr. Ossowiecki has 
worked here. I lost my brooch on Monday morning, June 6th. In the
afternoon of 
the same day I visited the wife of General Krieger, Mr.
Ossowiecki’s mother, 
with my brother, Mr. de Bondy, an engineer, who witnessed the
event.
   
Mr. Ossowiecki came in, my brother introduced me to his friend, and
I said that 
I was delighted to make acquaintance with one so gifted with occult
powers. All 
Warsaw is talking of him. He told us many interesting things, and
warmed up in 
his talk as I listened. Then in a moment of silence I told him:
   
“I have lost my brooch today. Could you tell me anything about it?
But if you 
are tired or it is troublesome, do not put yourself out.”
   
“On the contrary, madame, I will tell you. The brooch is at your
house in a box; 
it is a metal brooch, round, with a stone in the middle. You wore
it three days 
ago, and you value it.”
   
“No,” I said, “not that one.” (He had given a good description of a
brooch kept 
in the same box with that which I had lost.) Then he said:
   
“I am sorry not to have guessed right; I feel tired ... ”
   
“Let us say no more about it.”
   
“Oh no, madame, I will try to concentrate. I should like to have
some material 
thing that concerns the brooch ...”
   
“Sir, the brooch was fastened here, on this dress.”
   
He placed his fingers on the place indicated, and after a few
seconds said: 
“Yes, I see it well. It is oval, of gold, very light, an antique
which is dear 
to you as a family souvenir; I could draw it, so clearly do I see
it. It has 
ears, as it were, and it is two parts interpenetrating, like
fingers clasped 
together . . .”
   
“What you say, sir, is most extraordinary. It could not be better
described. 
Miraculous.”
   
He went on: “You lost it a long way from here.” (This was actually
about two and 
a half miles.)  “Yes, in
Mokotowska Street at the Koszykowa corner.”
   
“Yes,” I said, “I went there today.”
   
“Then,” he said, “a poorly dressed man, with black moustache, stoops
down and 
picks it up. It will be very difficult to get it back. Try an
advertisement in 
the papers.”
   
I was dazzled by the minute description, which left me no doubt
that he could 
see the ornament. I thanked him warmly for the rare pleasure of
meeting a real 
clairvoyant, and went home.
   
On the following evening my brother came to see me and exclaimed:
   
“What a miracle! Your brooch has been found. Mr. Ossowiecki
telephones to me 
that you have only to go tomorrow at about 5 o’clock to Mme. Jacyna
(Mr. 
Ossowiecki’s sister), and he will give it to you.”
   
The next day, June 7th, I went with my brother to the lady’s house,
where there 
was company. I asked to see Mr. Ossowiecki, and asked him: “Have
you my brooch?” 
I was much upset.
   
“Compose yourself, madame; we shall see.” And he handed me my
brooch. It was a 
real miracle. I turned pale and could not speak for a few minutes.
   
He told me the story very simply: “The day after our meeting I went
to the bank 
in the morning. In the vestibule I saw a man I remembered to have
met somewhere 
or other, and it struck me that this was the man whom I had seen
mentally to 
have picked up your brooch. I took his hand gently, and said:  ‘Sir, yesterday 
you found a brooch at the corner of Mokotowska and Koszykowa
Streets . . .’ 
‘Yes,’ he said, very much astonished. ‘Where is it?’ ‘At home. But
how do you 
know?’ I described the brooch and told him all that had taken
place. He turned 
pale and was much upset, like you, madame. He brought me the
brooch, saying that 
he had intended to advertise its finding. That is the whole story.”
   
I was much moved. I thanked Mr. Ossowiecki warmly, not so much for
the recovery 
of the brooch as for meeting such a diviner, and having a small
part in this 
miracle. Now this fine old brooch is worn by me constantly and
considered as a 
talisman. The incident has gone all over Poland, and Mr. Ossowiecki
has become 
all the more celebrated. He is besieged by people who come to
consult him on 
lost property, on men missing during the war, etc. And this modest
and 
extraordinary man devotes much time and trouble to them with good
grace and 
complete disinterestedness. He is a true diviner, who does much
good by his 
gift without any personal reward. I ask pardon for so long an
account, which I 
wished to make as exact as possible,
   
I am, Yours,
   
aline de glass,
   
née de Bondy
   
As an example of the test conditions under which Mr. Ossowiecki has
done many 
readings, I may mention the case of the letter which was written
for the purpose 
by Mme. Sarah Bernhardt, which we reproduce below from Clairvoyance
and 
Materialization (p. 55).
 
.                                                                          
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
.                                                                        
This letter was delivered to Dr. Geley, who handed it unopened to
the 
clairvoyant. His reading of this was not perfect, but nevertheless
striking and 
evidential. Dr. Geley says:
 
   
“His description of the letter was, however, very precise: La vie,
la vie, la 
vie, . . . (three times). There are four or five lines, and below
them Sarah 
Bernhardt’s signature, sloping upwards.” That is correct, but he
might have seen 
her signature in some magazine article. He continued: “La vie
semble humble.” He 
repeated ‘humble’ two or three times. “There is reference to
humanity, but the 
word ‘humanity’ is not written. There is an idea conjoining life
and humanity. 
Parcequ’il у а
bеаисоир
de haine. Non, il n’y a pas ‘haine’; il у a seulement 
seulement . . . It is a very difficult word of eight letters! There
is an 
exclamation mark.”
   
Then before opening the letter, which I had previously examined by
reflected, 
direct and transmitted light and found absolutely opaque, I wrote
down the 
following, which may be taken as Ossowiecki's final answer: “La vie
semble 
humble parcequ’il у а
bеаисоир
de haine, (pas haine, mais un mot qui n’est pas 
compris et qui est de huit lettres); signature Sarah Bernhardt.”
The word 
éphémère was not known to Ossowiecki, as he told us after the
letter had been 
opened. We asked several Poles who spoke French well if they knew
this word: 
they did not.
   
The fact that Mr. Ossowiecki does see the actual form in some
manner sometimes 
is confirmed by his vision on occasion of drawings enclosed along
with the 
letters. Judging by the third experiment of September 21st, 1921,
at Prince 
Lubomirski’s (p. 39), when the test letter contained four written
items, and 
also the drawing of a fish, the picture seemed to impress him more
than the 
written portion of the test, and he not only spoke about it, but
said that he 
would draw it, which he did, though he reversed the picture,
putting the head on 
the left whereas in the original it was on the right.
 
   
clairvoyant “readings”
   
This power of clairvoyance is also frequently displayed in a minor
way at the 
weekly meetings of which I have spoken. After the trance address is
over, the 
medium usually expresses her readiness to give descriptions, or
“readings”, as 
they are often called, of the surroundings of various members of
the audience. 
Where the circle is a small one, something is said to each of its
members in 
turn; if there be a large number gathered together, individuals are
selected and 
called up for special attention.
   
I have heard striking fragments of private family history brought
out in this 
way — cases which bore every mark of genuineness; but in the
majority of such 
meetings as I have attended the descriptions were exceedingly
vague, and had a 
rather suspicious adaptability about them. The conversation usually
ran somewhat 
along these lines:
   
Medium (supposed to be entranced, but speaking with exactly her
normal contempt 
for aspirates and grammatical rules). “There's an old gent with
white ‘air 
a-standin’ be’ind that lady in the corner.”
   
Enthusiastic and Credulous Sitter. 
“Lor! that must be my father!”
   
Medium.  “Yes; he smiles, he
nods his ‘ed, he’s so pleased that you know him. I 
can see his white beard regularly shaking, he's so glad.”
   
Sitter. “Ain't it wonderful! But father didn’t have no beard before
he passed 
over; p’raps he’s grown one since, or p’raps it’s my uncle Jim; he
used to have 
a beard.”
   
Medium. “Ah! yes, that’s who it is; he nods his ‘ed again, and
smiles; he wants 
to tell you ‘ow ‘appy he is.”
   
Sitter.  “Well, now! just to
think of poor uncle Jim coming like this! Why, it’s 
more than thirty years ago he was drowned at sea, when I was quite
a girl; 
‘an‘some young chap he was, too! not more than five-and-twenty, and
to be 
drowned like that!”
   
Medium.  “Um! yes—yes—ah! I
see him more clearly now — yes, you're right. It’s 
not a white beard — it’s the white undershirt what sailors wears —
that’s what 
it is!”
   
Chorus.  “How lovely! how
wonderful! Ain’t it beautiful to think they can come 
back like this!”
   
I have heard just about that sort of conversation a score of times;
and it is 
naturally not calculated to produce a robust faith in that
particular medium. 
Yet perhaps through the same illiterate woman there would come on
another 
occasion some message about a matter of which she could by no
possibility have 
known anything — a message which she could never have evolved from
her sordid 
consciousness by any amount of clumsy guess-work.
 
   
A private test
   
I remember on one such occasion applying a little private test of
my own to a 
medium in a poor London suburb. She was a coarse-looking woman,
whom I had never 
seen before, but she seemed earnest enough, though far from
cultured. She went 
on from one member of the circle to another, monotonously
describing behind each 
of them spirits with flowing robes and smiling faces; she varied
the story a 
little in my own case by giving me “a dark-looking foreign
gentleman, with 
something white round his head”, which may possibly have been true
enough, or 
may have been merely a coincidence.
   
It occurred to me to try whether she could see a thought-form, so
as a change 
from all these reverend white-haired spirits with flowing robes, I
set myself to 
project as strong a mental image as I could construct of two chubby
boys in Eton 
jackets, standing behind the chair of the member of the circle who
was next in 
order for examination. Sure enough, when that person’s turn came,
the medium (or 
the dead man speaking through her, if there was one) described my
imaginary boys 
with tolerable accuracy, and represented them as sons of the lady
behind whom 
they stood. The latter denied this, explaining that her sons were
grown men, and 
the medium then suggested grandchildren, which was also repudiated,
so the 
mystery remained unsolved. But from the incident I deduced two
conclusions: 
First, that either the medium was genuinely clairvoyant, or there
really was a 
dead person speaking through her; and secondly, that whoever was
concerned had 
not yet sufficient discernment to distinguish a thought-form
materialized on the 
astral plane from a living astral body.
  
-------Cardiff Theosophical Society in Wales-------
206 Newport Road, Cardiff, Wales, UK. CF24-1DL 
    
.                                                                        
Chapter V
.                                                                        
SOME RECENT TEST CASES
 
   
test conditions
   
The recent researches of many learned doctors, and other
investigators 
associated with the Societies for Psychical Research in different
countries, 
offer us increasing confirmation of the facts announced by the
earlier 
experimenters. The attitude of many of these distinguished
explorers into the 
domain of the occult inclines at the beginning towards scepticism
— a fact 
which renders their evidence all the more valuable, though it makes
the 
phenomena more difficult to obtain. It constitutes a positive
mental influence 
acting against the manifestation of unusual psychic powers — powers
which it is 
difficult enough to use, even under the most favourable conditions.
It is only 
fair to add, however, that such scepticism is rarely a prejudice,
but simply the 
scientific attitude which declines to admit the existence of any
facts which 
have not been carefully observed, or the truth of any deductions
which have not 
been studiously and impartially considered.
   
The attitude and method adopted by Dr. Gustave Geley, and described
in his 
invaluable volume Clairvoyance and Materialisation, is becoming
more and more 
popular among experimenters. He says that the best results for
scientific 
purposes are not to be obtained under conditions which cast
suspicion upon the 
medium, and that the end to be sought by observers is not to
protect themselves 
with absolute certainty at all times against any possible or
conceivable fraud, 
but to obtain phenomena so powerful and complex that they carry
their own proof 
and undeniable witness under the conditions demanded by the
control.
   
I may add that my own experience, extending over many years, fully
confirms what 
Dr. Geley has written. I have always found it best to make friends
with both the 
medium and the spirit-guide and to discuss the manifestations
frankly with them. 
Dr. Geley continues:
   
If experimenters waste time on poor or elementary phenomena, they
will find the 
greatest difficulty in getting a control that will satisfy them at
all points. 
If they are wise enough to consider elementary phenomena, and such
minor frauds 
as they may suspect, both negligible; if they allow phenomena to
develop without 
checking them at the outset by untimely demands, they will
certainly obtain 
facts so various and important, also (sometimes) of such beauty,
that their 
conviction will be complete, unshakable, and conclusive (p. 25).
 
   
MOTHER MARIUS AND THE CONVICT
   
In the comparatively recent general literature of spiritualism and
psychical 
research there are many cases which satisfy these conditions. There
are examples 
in which the accuracy of information communicated by these methods,
and 
previously entirely unknown to those who receive it, almost certainly
announces 
the actual presence of the entity who is claiming to communicate. I
will select 
one typical case from M. Flammarion’s book After Death (p. 21),
relating to the 
death of a charwoman of Nantes, generally known as Mother Marius.
The narrator 
says that he used to frequent a cafe where there was a charwoman, a
native of 
Brittany, whose family name was Keryado, although she was always
called Mother 
Marius. He then continues:
   
Every week I used to leave Nantes on Saturday evening and spend
Sunday on a farm 
in the very midst of the countryside. One Saturday I left as usual
— took leave 
of the proprietor, of my friends, and said goodbye to this same
charwoman, who 
was in excellent health. So, late on Saturday night, I found myself
in the 
country as usual, but I must explain that this time, through exceptional
circumstances, I was to remain there for the whole week. The
farm-house had two 
rooms; a kitchen and another room. On Thursday, at one o’clock in
the 
afternoon, I was talking in the other room with the young girl of
the house. 
There was no one in the kitchen. The doors and windows were closed.
We were 
talking, when both of us heard a noise in the kitchen, as though
the fire-tongs 
had fallen on to the hearthstone. Out of precaution, thinking that
the cat might 
be getting into the jars of milk, I went to see what it was. There
was nothing; 
everything was shut up. Scarcely had I come back into the room when
there was 
the same noise. I turned. Nothing! Since I had already taken up
spiritualism, I 
said to the young girl, laughing: “It's a spirit, perhaps” —
attaching no 
importance to my words. However, I then had the idea of using a
little round 
table, with which we had already experimented, and we waited, both
of us sitting 
at it, our hands upon it. Almost immediately we got a communication
through 
rapping, according to the usual alphabetic code. “Is this a
spirit?” — “Yes” — 
“You lived on earth?” — “Yes” — “You knew me?” — “Yes” — “What was
your name?” — 
“Keryado”. At this odd name (I did not remember the charwoman's
family name) I 
was about to leave the table, thinking that the reply was pointless,
when the 
young girl said to me: “That is the family name of the charwoman in
the café”. 
“That is true,” I answered, and then I began a series of questions.
I was 
unwilling to believe that she was dead, having left her in perfect
health only 
five days before. I asked her for details, and learned that she had
been taken 
ill at eight o’clock on Tuesday evening, that she had been carried
to her home, 
and that she had died at eleven o’clock, of a haemorrhage ... On
Saturday when I 
returned to Nantes, as soon as I got out of the train, I went to
the café, and 
there, to my stupefaction, they gave me confirmation of this
woman’s death, and 
of all the details she had given me.
   
Unquestionably also there are other cases in which only telepathy
is at work. 
Professor Ernest Wood relates an example, which was told to him by
his father, 
who used to investigate these things. On the occasion in question
the medium, 
who was a personal friend also, said that he saw standing behind
his visitor the 
“spirit” of a man dressed in convict garb. He described him in
detail, saying 
that he was looking through prison bars, and adding that he thought
the spirit 
wished to communicate. But the fact of the matter was that, a short
time before, 
the enquirer had been to see the exhibition at the opening of the
Manchester 
Ship Canal, in which was shown one of the old Botany Bay convict
ships fitted up 
realistically with wax-work figures. He had stood for some time
looking at one 
of these, and wondering what the unfortunate convicts must have
felt, and though 
the incident had passed from his mind and been forgotten, that was
the figure of 
which the medium gave him a description.
   
Perhaps the first great mistake which many people make in thinking
about these 
things is to assume that one law governs all the cases, and
therefore that they 
are either all due to discarnate intelligences, or are all caused
by some form 
of simple or complicated telepathy. There is a variety of causes
for the 
phenomena produced during psychical research investigations, some
of them being 
due to ideas in the mind of the medium or of the sitters, others to
discarnate 
intelligences, others to thought-forms casually present or magnetically
attracted, and others again to the psychometric influence of
objects which may 
be near.
 
   
the pearl tie-pin case
   
Another good example of successful communication from the other
side of death, 
which has been called the pearl tie-pin case, is given in Sir William
Barrett’s 
On the Threshold of the Unseen, as follows:
   
Miss C., the sitter, had a cousin, an officer with our army in
France, who was 
killed in battle a month previously to the sitting; this she knew.
One day, 
after the name of her cousin had been unexpectedly spelt out on the
ouija board, 
and her name given in answer to her query “Do you know who I am?”,
the following 
message came:
   
“Tell mother to give my pearl tie-pin to the girl I was to marry. I
think she 
ought to have it.” When asked what was the name and address of the
lady, both 
were given; the name spelt out included the full Christian and
surname, the 
latter being very unusual and quite unknown to both sitters. The
address given 
in London was either wrong or taken down incorrectly, as a letter
sent there was 
returned, and the whole message was thought to be fictitious.
   
Six months later, however, it was discovered that the officer had
been engaged, 
shortly before he left for the front, to the lady whose name had
been given; he 
had, however, told no one of this. Neither his cousin nor any of
his own family 
in Ireland were aware of the fact, and they had never seen the lady
nor heard 
her name, until the War Office sent over the deceased officer’s
effects. Then 
they found that he had put the lady’s name in his will as his next
of kin, both 
Christian and surname being precisely the same as given through the
automatist; 
and what is equally remarkable, a pearl tie-pin was found among his
effects.
   
Both the ladies have signed a document which they sent to me,
affirming the 
accuracy of the above statement. The message was recorded at the
time, and not 
written from memory after verification had been obtained. Here
there could be no 
explanation of the facts by subliminal memory, or telepathy from
the living, or 
collusion, and the evidence points unmistakably to a message from
the deceased 
officer.
 
   
the bird’s-nesting case
   
Another striking case appeared in The Harbinger of Light for
February, . A 
New Zealand gentleman gives what appears to be a good test of
identity from his 
soldier son, who was killed on the Somme in September, . The
communication 
came to another gentleman through the medium of his wife, who was
known to the 
soldier before he left for the war. In the course of his statement
the soldier 
says:
   
Will you convey my love to father and mother, and my brothers?
Thank God they 
have not gone to the war. Tell my dear mother not to hold any
fanciful ideas of 
me, or to believe every so-called message she may receive. Tell her
I owe her 
all that is best in me, for she is brave and good, and I would do
anything 
possible to smooth her path in life. Tell her one particular thing
that will 
assure her of my presence — tell her that on the day when she
prevented me from 
going out bird’s-nesting, and took so much trouble to instruct us
in the right, 
I decided always to try to do what was right. Tell her the
recollection of the 
anecdote she told us always haunted me. Tell her I have not gone to
any restful 
spiritual home yet, and probably will not till the war ends. Tell
her I cannot 
be a shirker in the body or out of it, but having been trained with
many good 
comrades to do my duty, I try to do it still, and if I were
permitted I could 
tell you so much we do to help those still fighting — much that is
sanctioned 
and assisted, too, by others higher than ourselves, but I dare not
say. Tell 
mother that I was quite suddenly shot out of the body, and felt no
pain 
whatever, and thanks to the insight I received through my parents,
and you, and 
others, I simply folded my arms and had a good look at my body, and
thought: 
“Well, is that all?” I could not wrench myself away from the body
immediately, 
and accompanied it when carried off by stretcher-bearers to the 
dressing-station, because the body was not quite dead, but I felt
no pain. How 
long it was before I lost the consciousness of my material body I
cannot say, 
but the freedom I now feel, and the active part I am taking in what
occupied me 
so much before death is my duty, and it seems natural and right.
Besides, Mr. 
A.—, there are many pledges my comrades and I made to each other in
the face of 
death, which are sacred, and must be kept, if possible. But I
cannot stop now. 
Goodbye, Mr. A.—, goodbye. I am so delighted to have spoken to you.
Tell father 
and mother they need have no regrets, and that my present
activities are more 
valuable than when I was in the flesh, and quite as natural. They
will know it 
is the right and proper course till time changes affairs. Goodbye.
   
The father writes that the bird’s-nesting incident was known only
to the boy and 
his mother; some years before when he had spoken of going on such
an expedition 
his mother had earnestly told him how cruel it was to break down
the home so 
care-fully prepared by the parents for their young, and illustrated
her lesson 
with the idea of some great giant coming and ruthlessly smashing up
her home and 
destroying her children.
   
This case is also interesting for its simple and straightforward
account of the 
soldier’s experiences and feelings when he found himself outside
his body.
 
   
cross references
   
When one portion of a message is given to one medium and another
portion to 
another, at a distance from or unknown to the first, so that the
two portions 
fit together and make a rational whole, we have what is called a 
cross-reference. A well known instance of this is the
Kildare-street Club case, 
published in The International Psychic Gazette, and reprinted in
Mr. 
Carrington’s Psychical Phenomena and the War (p. 284). The account
of the 
incident was furnished by Count Hamon, as follows:
   
On Monday, May 14, 1917, I attended in a private house a seance at
which Mrs. 
Harris was the medium. There were present on this occasion, amongst
several 
others whose names I am not authorized to mention, Miss Scatcherd,
Mrs. 
Dixon-Hartland, and Dr. Hector Munro.
   
After many convincing conversations with spirits by means of the
“direct voice” 
had occurred, a spirit visitor came and said very distinctly: “I
want to send a 
message to my father.”
   
“Who are you?”, we asked.
   
The spirit replied: “I am an officer recently killed at the front
in Flanders; 
my name is . . .” We could not hear the name very distinctly, so
after some 
repeated efforts to get it, we said: “Well, leave the name alone
for the moment 
and try to give us the message.”
   
Speaking very slowly at first, the spirit said, “My father lives
near Dublin; 
you will find him at the well-known club there.”
   
A gentleman present asked: “Which club do you mean?”
   
The spirit replied: “The Kildare-street Club; you know it well, and
you also 
know my father.”
   
As no one had caught the name of the father exactly right, the
gentleman 
referred to said: “I know the Kildare-street Club very well, but I
do not think 
I know your father; but give us the message.”
   
Continuing, the spirit went on: “My father is always worrying and
unhappy about 
me; he can't seem to get оver it. I want some one to tell
him that I came here 
tonight to get this through as a test message to him, to tell him
not to worry 
about me, as I am all right, and glad to have gone through it, and
I want him 
not to worry and be unhappy any more.”
   
After a slight pause he continued, “My father also goes to mediums
in Dublin, 
and I try to give him messages through them, but I want this sent
on to him as a 
test message.”
   
We again asked him to try to give us the name, and we got one part
— the 
Christian name — very distinctly, but the surname was always so
slurred that we 
were unable to catch it clearly, and after many efforts had to give
it up. But 
before we did so, I promised that I would do all I could to send on
his message.
   
The next morning I wrote a letter to the name I thought it had
sounded like, 
addressing it to the Kildare-street Club. In about a week this
letter was 
returned to me through the Post Office marked  “Name not known”.
   
I was considerably worried as to what I should do next, until the
thought came 
to me that I should write to the secretary of the Club, simply
saying that I was 
anxious to find the gentleman who, I believed, was a member of his
club, whose 
son had recently been killed in Flanders; that the name was
something like 
so-and-so, and that I had a message to give him about his son.
   
Now comes the strangest part of this strange story. In a few days I
received a 
letter from the gentleman in question, saying that the secretary
had sent him my 
letter, and adding: “I have had a message from my son who was
recently killed in 
Flanders, saying he had sent me a message through a medium in
London, that he 
had difficulty in getting the name and address through but he
wanted to give me 
a test.” The father added: “If you understand this I hope you will
send me his 
message.”
 
   
the deer IN the Bois
   
One of the most strikingly successful instances of cross
correspondence is 
published in the Journal of the American Society for Psychical
Research, vol. 
viii, p. 413, it being a translation from a paper read at a meeting
of the 
French Society for Psychical Research by Dr. Geley, M. Camille
Flammarion being 
in the chair. In this case the operating entity composed a little
story, 
dictated the major portion of it to a medium at Wimereux, near
Bordeaux, 
omitting only three sentences, which were dictated separately but
at the same 
time to a medium in Paris. The lady in Paris declared that she
could see the 
spirit operators, the chief of whom gave his name as Roudolphe, in
the form of 
lights, and that one of these lights came and went rapidly. Her
three sentences 
were:
   
“As well behaved as the pupils in a convent for well-trained young
ladies”
   
“Their large sweet eyes are used to watching the passing”
   
“The modern lady of fashion whose eyes.”
   
The following day the post brought to Paris the main part of the
story which had 
been written in Wimereux the previous evening. Roudolphe first
explained the 
idea of his experiment, and then wrote as follows:
   
Have you sometimes met, dear friend, as you walked in the thickets,
the deer 
that live and roam through the leafy branches, at times . . . (here
the 
automatist noted a pause in the writing) ... at times the flock,
jumping and 
frightened, so graceful and fascinating? Have you ever asked
yourself what those 
pretty animals were thinking, and what they would become later? Far
be it from 
me to draw their horoscope (which would after all be of no interest
to them), 
but it seems to me that their mentality must be very different from
that which 
animates the deer of the forest . . . (another pause) . . . strange
vehicles 
running without the aid of an animal’s legs, and in those carriages
or along the 
more or less frequented paths, they have contemplated women with
elongated eyes 
like their own, delicate and stylish women. Who can ever tell us if
. . . 
(another pause) . . . become so unnaturally large under the dash of
the pencil, 
is not a doe of the forest in the throes of retrospective
recollection?
   
Dear friend, I have had some trouble because Miss R. tried to
understand — but 
trust I have succeeded with this childish story. Affectionate good
night. 
roudolphe.
   
We will leave it to the reader to put the two portions together and
see how 
perfectly they fit. Dr. Geley remarks that both mediums were
ignorant of the 
meaning and intention of the sentences they were writing, and that
they both 
acted as machines worked by the single direction of an independent
intelligence.
 
   
the fiR-tRee test
   
In New Evidences in Psychical Research, by Mr. J. A. Hill, a
lengthy account is 
given of the efforts at cross correspondence between various
mediums. From that 
source I will take one case, that of the fir-trees:
   
On August 28, 1901, Mrs. Verral’s script had some Latin, of which
the following 
is a translation:  “Sign with
the seal. The fir-tree that has been already 
planted in the garden gives its own portent.” This script was
signed with a 
scrawl and three drawings representing a sword, a suspended bugle
and a pair of 
scissors.
   
On the same day Mrs. Forbes’s script purporting to come from her
son (who had 
been killed in the South African War) said that he was looking for
a sensitive 
who wrote automatically, in order that he might obtain
corroboration for her own 
writing. This script was apparently produced earlier in the day
than Mrs. 
Verrall’s script above mentioned.
   
The interest of the incident lies in the fact that a suspended
bugle surmounted 
by a crown was the badge of Talbot Forbes’s regiment. Further, Mrs.
Forbes has 
in her garden four or five small fir-trees grown from seed sent her
from abroad 
by her son; these she calls Talbot’s trees. These facts were
totally unknown to 
Mrs. Verrall. As bearing on the question of chance coincidence, it
is to be 
remarked that on no other occasion has a bugle appeared in Mrs.
Verrall’s 
script, nor has there been any other allusion to a planted fir-tree
(p. 172).
   
Sir Oliver Lodge has expressed a favourable opinion of the
evidential value of a 
number of cross-correspondences between Mrs. Forbes, Mrs. Piper,
Mrs. Thompson 
and Mrs. Verrall. Many of these tests came from a soi-disant
Frederick Myers. 
Sir Oliver said that the scholarship in some cases singularly
corresponds with 
that of F. W. H. Myers when living, and surpasses the unaided
information of any 
of the receivers. Mr. J. A. Hill, on p. 204 of the book
above-mentioned, adds:
   
Some of the communications are strikingly appropriate to and
characteristic of 
Mr. Myers, in many subtle ways; and this psychological kind of
evidence, made up 
of many strokes, some bold, some faint, but all tending to bring
out the 
lineaments of this one personality — this psychological evidence, I
say, even 
apart from anything else, is as impressive as isolated correct
facts about the 
communicator’s past life, which is the kind of evidence most
sought for 
hitherto. And, adding to this evidence the cross-correspondences,
which are also 
in some instances of characteristic kind — e.g., the anagrams
characteristic of 
Dr. Hodgson, and the Dante, Tennyson, and Browning incidents
suggestive of Mr. 
Myers, there results a body of recent evidence stronger perhaps
than anything 
that has previously been published by qualified investigators, in
favour of 
communication from disembodied human beings.
   
Referring to the telepathic theory as to the cause of these and
similar 
occurrences, Mr. Hill writes (p. 203):
   
If telepathy from the living is to explain all, we shall have to
believe that it 
can occur in a very definite and continuous way between people who
do not know 
each other, as in the earlier script of Mrs. Holland and in some of
the 
trance-speech of Mrs. Thompson. We shall also have to assume a very
complicated 
system of telepathic cross-firing among the automatists concerned,
the 
cross-firing, moreover, occurring at subliminal depths, leaving the
normal 
personalities quite ignorant of all this remarkable activity. I
confess that I 
am unable to accept this. To quote Mr. Lang . . . “there is a point
at which the 
explanations of common sense arouse scepticism”. And I do not think
that a 
telepathic theory of this extended kind can be called an
explanation of common 
sense. If it were presented on its own merits, and not as a refuge
from 
“spirits”, it would be described, by common-sense people, as a
piece of uncommon 
nonsense.
 
   
the Two drowned sailors
   
What amounts practically to a cross-reference, though it was
apparently not 
intentional, is related by Mr. W. Britton Harvey, Editor of The
Harbinger of 
Light, Melbourne, in his booklet They All Come Back! One evening in
a circle in 
his home the intelligence controlling the medium gave his name as
Walter 
Robinson, and stated that Fred Field was with him, and added that
they had both 
been drowned at sea. Mr. Harvey had known a Walter Robinson, and
had learnt that 
he had been drowned, but he had never even heard of Fred Field.
   
More than a year later an acquaintance happened to tell Mr. Harvey
that some 
years before, in a sitting with a Melbourne medium, he had been
greeted by 
Walter Robinson and Fred Field, who declared they had been drowned.
I will 
complete the story in Mr. Harvey’s own words:
   
“I knew Walter and Fred well,” continued my informant, “but I had
never heard of 
their deaths. They were shipmates of mine at one time, and it was
not for nine 
months after they had purported to speak to me that I found out
that they had 
been drowned.” I then learnt for the first time that this casual
acquaintance 
used to live a few miles from the town in which I resided in the
Old Country. At 
that time he went to sea, and that was how he got to know Walter
Robinson and 
Fred Field. I had not mentioned either of these names to him
previously. In 
fact, this was the first chat we had had together, and this will
account for my 
not knowing before that he once resided so close to me in England
(p. 15).
 
   
the book tests
   
In 1922 the Rev. Charles Drayton Thomas put forth a book entitled
Some New 
Evidence for Human Survival. In this he opens up on a large scale a
method of 
investigation but slightly touched upon hitherto, in the form of
book and 
newspaper tests. These tests are stated to come from his father,
the Rev. John 
Drayton Thomas (who died some years ago) acting through Mrs.
Leonard, with the 
assistance of a control who calls herself Feda.
   
The general method of book-tests, of which some hundreds are
related, is for the 
“spirit” to go into Mr. Thomas’s library (some distance from the
house where the 
sittings are held), select a book, observe some ideas on a certain
page or pages 
in that book, and then announce them. Several of these observations
are written 
down on one occasion; they are afterwards verified, and have been
found to be 
for the most part correct.
   
The operators have apparently certain difficulties in seeing the
actual print of 
the book, but in some manner not easy to comprehend they can grasp
the idea 
involved in the printed words. They cannot apparently see the
numbers printed on 
the pages, but they can count the pages from the beginning of the
printed 
matter, and so indicate exactly those to which they wish to refer.
Some of the 
tests are taken from books on the shelves, but others with equal
success were 
performed with books belonging to other people, made up into
carefully sealed 
parcels, the contents of which were quite unknown to the
experimenters until the 
parcels were opened in order to verify the test messages.
   
I will give two typical examples of book-tests from the many
recorded by Mr. 
Thomas, which range variously over description, humour, topics of
the day, 
philosophy and religion.
   
In your study, close to the door, the lowest shelf, take the sixth
book from the 
left, and page 149; three-quarters down is a word conveying the
meaning of 
falling back or stumbling.
   
Rather more than half-way down the page was the following sentence:
   
... to whom a crucified Messiah was an insuperable stumbling-block.
   
Very low down on the page he seemed to get something about great
noise, not a 
sharp, thin sound, but a heavy one, more of a roaring noise.
   
Close to the bottom of this page was the sentence:
   
I chanced to come that time along the coast, and heard the guns for
two or three 
days and nights successively, (pp. 15-.)
   
Mr. Drayton Thomas says that these book-tests were given, so it was
claimed by 
the “spirit friends,” not so much as a proof of identity, as
illustrating the 
ability of a spirit to obtain information unknown to the sitter or
medium, and 
yet capable of easy verification.
   
In Chapter XII Mr. Thomas gives a series of book-tests which were
communicated 
for Lady Glenconnor, who has also herself written about them in The
Earthen 
Vessel. The messages were transmitted from the late Hon. Edward
Wyndham Tennant 
through the same medium, the late Rev. John Drayton Thomas and Feda
communicating. This time they used the books in the libraries at
Lady 
Glenconnor’s house in Scotland, at her town house, and also at
Wilsford Manor.
   
Summing up the results of two years’ work the author finds that out
of 209 book 
tests spontaneously given 147 were good, 26 indefinite, and 36
apparent failures 
(p. 98).
 
   
A test by madame blavatsky
   
Before closing this subject of book-tests, let me recount one such
example also 
from the record of Madame Blavatsky. Her life was full of incidents
showing 
remarkable powers in many directions; of these one may read
especially in The 
Occult World and Incidents in the Life of Madame Blavatsky, by A.
P. Sinnett, 
and in Old Diary Leaves, by Col. H. S. Olcott. Mr. G. Baseden Butt
has recently 
written a careful and thoughtful account of her life in his volume
entitled 
Madame Blavatsky. From that I take the following “test” related by
Countess 
Wachtmeister (p. 153):
   
An experience related by the Countess Wachtmeister cannot be
explained save on 
the assumption that the Masters really exist and were able to
communicate with 
her. In the autumn of 1885, before she had met Madame Blavatsky,
and before she 
knew that she was likely to meet her, the Countess was making
preparations to 
leave her home in Sweden in order to spend the winter with some
friends in 
Italy, intending to visit Madame Gebhard at Elberfeld en route.
While she was 
laying aside the articles she intended to take with her, the
Countess, who was 
clairvoyant and clairaudient, heard a voice saying: “Take that
book, it will be 
useful to you on your journey.” The book referred to was a
manuscript collection 
of notes on the Tarot and passages in the Kabbalah compiled by a
friend. 
Countess Wachtmeister could conceive of no purpose for which this
book might be 
required, but, obedient to her clairaudient injunction, she laid it
in the 
bottom of one of her travelling trunks. At Elberfeld, Madame
Gebhard persuaded 
the Countess to go to Würzburg and spend the winter with Madame Blavatsky
there 
instead of going to Italy. When the Countess arrived at Würzburg,
and was going 
into the dining-room to take some tea, Madame Blavatsky said
abruptly, as if the 
matter had been dwelling on her mind:
   
“Master says you have a book for me of which I am much in need.”
   
The Countess Wachtmeister denied that any books were with her, but
Madame 
Blavatsky bade her think again, as Master said that her visitor had
been told in 
Sweden to bring a book on the Tarot and the Kabbalah. “Then,” adds
the Countess, 
“I recollected the circumstances I have related above. From the
time I had 
placed the volume in the bottom of my box it had been out of my
sight and out of 
my mind. Now, when I hurried to the bedroom, unlocked the trunk,
and dived to 
the bottom, I found it in the same corner I had left it when
packing the box in 
Sweden, undisturbed from that moment to this. But that was not all.
When I 
returned to the dining-room with it in my hand, Madame Blavatsky
made a gesture 
and cried: ‘Stay, do not open it yet. Now turn to page ten, and on
the sixth 
line you will find the words . . .’ And she quoted a passage.
   
I opened the book, which, let it be remembered, was no printed
volume of which 
there might be a copy in H. P. B.’s possession, but a manuscript
album in which, 
as I have said, had been written notes and excerpts by a friend of
mine for my 
own use, yet on the page and at the line she had indicated I found
the very 
words she had uttered.
   
When I handed her the book I ventured to ask her why she wanted it.
   
‘O,’ she replied, ‘for The Secret Doctrine.’ ”
   
Surely this incident establishes at one and the same time the
existence of the 
Masters and the reality of Madame Blavatsky’s power of
clairvoyance.
 
   
the newspaper tests
   
Satisfactory as the book-tests are, what are known as the
newspaper-tests are 
still more effective. These messages, instead of relating to books
existing in 
libraries, in closed parcels or even in locked iron boxes, refer to
tomorrow’s 
paper. Various newspapers were used, but chiefly the London Times,
and the 
communications related therefore to what had not yet been printed;
enquiries at 
the office of the paper resulted in the information that at the time
of the 
sitting the type-matter had not yet been assembled, and probably
some of it had 
not even been set up. Respecting these tests Mr. Thomas says also:
   
It is important to realize that a copy of these notes was made the
same evening, 
and posted in London so that it would be delivered early the
following morning. 
It was sent to the Secretary of the Society of Psychical Research
in accordance 
with my invariable custom, a practice adopted many months
previously, when I 
realized that the tests from the papers of the day after the
sitting were 
becoming a regular feature of conversations with my father through
Mrs. Leonard 
and Feda. (p. .)
   
There is generally a certain vagueness about these tests, as in the
book-tests, 
but that the communicating intelligences do make a connection
between words in 
the newspaper and names or facts familiar to the enquirers is
certain. For 
example, they say (p. 131) “On page 1, column 2, near the top,
there is the name 
of a minister with whom your father was friendly at Leek.” The name
Perks was 
found in the place indicated, and he had known a minister of that
name at Leek.
   
There are many carious approximations in these tests. For example,
it was 
announced that in a certain column, one-quarter down, would appear
Mr. Thomas’ 
father’s name, his own, his mother’s, and that of an aunt. In the
position 
indicated the names John and Charles appeared. These were correct,
but instead 
of Emily and Sarah (the names of an aunt and Mr. Thomas' mother)
were the words 
Emile Sauret! Similarly in the place stated to contain the maiden
name of the 
mother “or one very like it” was the word Dorothea, while her name
was Dore.
   
Notwithstanding this vagueness these messages do present a valuable
addition to 
the evidence for the existence of intelligence beyond that of the
sitters, and 
this record is especially useful because Mr. Thomas sent his tests
to the 
Secretary of the Society for Psychical Research before the newspapers
were 
printed.
   
In twelve such sittings, containing 104 tests, Mr. Thomas finds
that there were 
73 successes, 12 inconclusive items, and 19 failures, and in
another set of 
trials there were 51 successes out of 53 tests (p. 153). Many tests
were also 
received for persons other than the sitters, and relating to facts
entirely 
unknown to them.
 
   
the source of the messages
   
In studying the probable source of these messages, Mr. Drayton
Thomas feels 
assured that they do come from his deceased father, for all his
sittings abound 
in references to his doings and surroundings which would normally
be unknown to 
Mrs. Leonard, also with references to his father’s earth-life, and
besides “they 
include a wide range of elusive touches which are unproducible in
cold print, 
but in which I see my father’s personality ringing true to that
which I knew so 
well during his life on earth” (p. 190). We must, of course,
consider that the 
medium of Feda might read his mind, but as to this he says: “Up to
the present 
all my experiments with Feda have failed to find in her any trace
of ability to 
explore my thought or reproduce my memories; the evidence all
points the other 
way.” (p. .)
   
He mentions also that it is a curious experience, after having
received correct 
references through pages of books scattered about his library to
hear the 
control struggling to spell out a name which he himself knows to be
that which 
is required for completing some explicit description, and to find
that such 
efforts usually fail to pass beyond the initial letter of the
required name, and 
that his own concentration upon the name appears to make things not
one whit 
easier. He concludes: “That my father links his former memories
with matter 
discovered in preparation for the morrow’s press is the only
explanation 
logically fitting with the facts.” (p. .)
   
As to the views of the “spirits” themselves upon the way in which
they obtain 
the newspaper tests, Mr. Thomas received the following
communication:
   
These tests have been devised by others in a more advanced sphere
than mine, and 
I have caught their ideas. This may be done even when we do not
realize whence 
the thought originates, much as when minds on earth receive
inspiration. We can 
visit these higher helpers, and, even when away from them, may be
very conscious 
of their assistance. I am not yet aware exactly how one obtains
these tests, and 
have wondered whether the higher guides exert some influence
whereby a suitable 
advertisement comes into position on the convenient date; I have
thought of 
this, but do not know. These tests will be better than the
book-tests, because 
more definite, and their object will be to prove that we can obtain
information 
from other quarters than the mind or surroundings of the sitter; it
will be 
useless to invoke “the subconscious mind” as an explanation here. I
was taken to 
the Times office, and did not find the way there by myself; helpers
are 
plentiful when we are engaged on work of this kind. (p. .)
   
In another communication given later, in reply to the question: “Do
you now 
understand what it actually is that you operate upon at the
Times  office?”' the 
father said:
   
It is still a puzzle. On one occasion I thought I saw the complete
page set up; 
it certainly appeared to be so, and I noticed certain items in it
which I 
believe proved correct. But on returning to the office a little
while after — 
for I frequently go twice to make sure of the tests — I found that
the page was 
not yet set up, and this astonished me and was most perplexing. (p.
.)
   
In other communications the deceased clergyman speculates variously
upon the 
possible methods by which future events may be known, but
apparently in that 
world as in this the mystery of time is not yet solved.
 
-------Cardiff Theosophical Society in Wales-------
206 Newport Road, Cardiff, Wales, UK. CF24-1DL 
    
.                                                                        
Chapter VI
.                                                       
                 
PARTIAL MATERIALIZATION
 
   
varieties op materialization
   
All the most interesting phenomena of the seance room are connected
in some way 
or other with materialization — that is to say, with the building
of physical 
matter round some astral form, in order that through it the ego
inhabiting that 
astral form may be able to produce results upon the physical plane.
But of this 
materialization there are three varieties. Let me here quote a
passage from my 
own little book upon The Astral Plane, p. 118:
   
The habitues of seances will no doubt have noticed that
materializations are of 
three kinds: First, those which are tangible but not visible;
second, those 
which are visible but not tangible; and third, those which are both
visible and 
tangible. To the first kind, which is much the most common, belong
the invisible 
spirit hands which so frequently stroke the faces of the sitters or
carry small 
objects about the room, and the vocal organs from which the “direct
voice” 
proceeds. In this case an order of matter is being used which can
neither 
reflect nor obstruct light, but is capable under certain conditions
of setting 
up vibrations in the atmosphere which affect us as sound. A
variation of this 
class is that kind of partial materialization which, though
incapable of 
reflecting any light that we can see, is yet able to affect some of
the 
ultra-violet rays, and can therefore make a more or less definite
impression 
upon the camera, and so provide us with what are known as “spirit
photographs.”
   
When there is not sufficient power available to produce a perfect 
materialization we sometimes get the vaporous-looking form which
constitutes our 
second class, and in such a case the “spirits” usually warn their
sitters that 
the forms which appear must not be touched. In the rarer case of a
full 
materialization there is sufficient power to hold together, at
least for a few 
moments, a form which can be both seen and touched.
   
Nearly all the phenomena coming under this third subdivision of
ours are 
effected by means of the first of these types of materialization,
for the hands 
which cause the raps or tilts, which move objects about the room or
raise them 
from the ground, are not usually visible, though to be able to act
thus upon 
physical matter they must themselves be physical. Occasionally, but
comparatively rarely, they may be seen at their work, thus
explaining to us how 
that work is done in the far more numerous instances in which the
mechanism is 
invisible to us. Such a case is given to us by Sir William Crookes,
F.R.S., in 
his interesting book Researches in the Phenomena of Spiritualism,
p. 93:
 
   
A luminous hand
   
I was sitting next to the medium, Miss Fox, the only other persons
present being 
my wife and a lady relative, and I was holding the medium’s two
hands in one of 
mine, whilst her feet were resting on my feet. Paper was on the
table before us, 
and my disengaged hand was holding a pencil. A luminous hand came
down, from the 
upper part of the room, and after hovering near me for a few
seconds, took the 
pencil from my hand, rapidly wrote on a sheet of paper, threw the
pencil down, 
and then rose up over our heads, gradually fading into darkness.
   
The raps and the tilts are too well known to need description, but
cases in 
which heavy objects are raised and suspended without the contact of
visible 
hands are somewhat less commonly seen, so it may perhaps be well to
cite one or 
two of them. In the book just quoted, on p. 89, Sir William Crookes
tells us:
   
On five separate occasions, a heavy dining-table rose between a few
inches and a 
foot and a half off the floor, under special circumstances, which
rendered 
trickery impossible. On another occasion a heavy table rose from
the floor in 
full light, while I was holding the medium’s hands and feet. On
another occasion 
the table rose from the floor, not only when no person was touching
it, but 
under conditions which I had prearranged so as to assure
unquestionable proof of 
the fact.
   
It will be seen, therefore, that the similar experience of my own,
which I have 
described a few pages back, is by no means unique. Mr. Robert Dale
Owen, in his 
Footfalls on the Boundary of Another World, p. 74, gives a
remarkable case of 
similar nature:
 
   
cases of levitation
   
In the dining-room of a French nobleman, the Count d’Ourches,
residing near 
Paris, I saw, on the first day of October, 1858, in broad daylight,
at the close 
of déjèuner à la fourchette, a dining-table seating seven persons,
with fruit 
and wine on it, rise and settle down, as already described, while
all the guests 
were standing round it, and not one of them touching it at all. All
present saw 
the same thing. Mr. Kyd, son of the late General Kyd, of the
British army, and 
his lady told me (in Paris, in April, 1859) that in December of the
year 1857, 
during an evening visit to a friend, who resided at No. 28 Rue de
la Ferme des 
Mathurins, at Paris, Mrs. Kyd, seated in an armchair, suddenly felt
it move, as 
if someone had laid hold of it from beneath. Then slowly and
gradually it rose 
into the air, and remained there suspended for the space of about
thirty 
seconds, the lady’s feet being four or five feet from the ground;
then it 
settled down gently and gradually, so that there was no shock when
it reached 
the carpet. No one was touching the chair when it rose, nor did
anyone approach 
it while in the air, except Mr. Kyd, who, fearing an accident,
advanced and 
touched Mrs. Kyd. The room was at the time brightly lighted, as a
French salon 
usually is; and of the eight or nine persons present all saw the
same thing in 
the same way. I took notes of the above, as Mr. and Mrs. Kyd
narrated to me the 
occurrence; and they kindly permitted, as a voucher for its truth,
the use of 
their names.
   
People have not infrequently been lifted in this way in their
chairs, though 
rarely, I fancy, to the height of five feet. Sir William Crookes
saw several 
instances of the same phenomenon, and thus describes them in his
Researches, p. 
.
   
On one occasion I witnessed a chair, with a lady sitting in it,
rise several 
inches from the ground. On another occasion, to avoid the suspicion
of this 
being in some way performed by herself, the lady knelt on the chair
in such a 
manner that its four feet were visible to us. It then rose about
three inches, 
remaining suspended for about ten seconds, and then slowly
descended. Another 
time two children, on separate occasions, rose from the floor with
their chairs, 
in full daylight, under (to me) the most satisfactory conditions;
for I was 
kneeling and keeping close watch upon the feet of the chair, and
observing that 
no one might touch them.
   
The most striking cases of levitation which I have witnessed have
been with Mr. 
Home. On three separate occasions have I seen him raised completely
from the 
floor of the room. Once sitting in an easy chair, once kneeling on
his chair, 
and once standing up. On each occasion I had full opportunity of
watching the 
occurrence as it was taking place.
   
There are at least a hundred recorded instances of Mr. Home’s
rising from the 
ground, in the presence of as many separate persons, and I have
heard from the 
lips of the three witnesses to the most striking occurrence of this
kind — the 
Earl of Dunraven, Lord Lindsay and Captain C. Wynne — their own
most minute 
accounts of what took place. To reject the recorded evidence on
this subject is 
to reject all human testimony whatever; for no fact in sacred or
profane history 
is supported by a stronger array of proofs.
   
Colonel Olcott, in his People from the Other World, also mentions
having heard 
this account from the lips of one of the witnesses. He gives us,
too, some 
striking instances of levitation upon the part of the Eddy
brothers.
   
I have myself on three occasions been present when the medium,
seated in a heavy 
armchair, was lifted clear over our heads as we sat round the
table, and placed 
in the centre of it. On two of these occasions I was myself holding
one of the 
medium’s hands, and continued to hold it during his aerial
excursion, while a 
trustworthy friend held the other. Although this took place in
darkness, we were 
certain that no one from the physical plane lifted that chair;
though as a 
matter of fact we did not need that assurance, for there was no one
in the room 
at all capable of such a feat of herculean strength. The moment
that the medium 
and his big chair were safely landed on the table, raps called for
a light by 
the prearranged signal, so that we might see what had been done,
our dead 
friends being evidently rather proud of their achievement.
 
   
lifted то the CEiling
   
I myself was once lifted at a seance in rather an unusual way — at
least I have 
not heard of any other case exactly similar. It was at one of the
earliest of 
the public seances which I attended, and many people entirely
unknown to me were 
present. Some ladies on the opposite side of the table cried out
that a hand was 
patting and caressing them, but this in absolute darkness did not
seem to be 
entirely convincing; so that when their exclamations of delight and
gratitude to 
the “dear spirit” were becoming a little monotonous I asked
quietly: “Will the 
spirit be so kind as to come across and touch me?” I had hardly
expected any 
response, but the “spirit” took me promptly at my word; my hand
was instantly 
seized in a strong grasp, and pulled upwards so that I was
compelled to rise 
from my chair. Even when I stood upright, the upward pull still
continued, so I 
hastily stepped on to the seat of my chair. Still the steady
irresistible pull, 
and a moment later I was hanging in the air by one hand, and still
ascending. My 
knuckles touched the smooth, cold surface of the plastered ceiling
— the room 
was a lofty one —and then, apparently through the ceiling, another
hand patted 
mine softly, and I felt myself sinking. Directly afterwards my feet
touched the 
chair, and only then the firm grasp loosened, giving me a final
hearty 
hand-shake as it left me. I climbed down from my chair, convinced
that “the 
clasp of a vanished hand” might sometimes be a fairly strong one.
   
When I told this story to sceptics afterwards I was always met with
one of two 
explanations. First, that there was a trap-door in that ceiling,
and that some 
mechanical device was employed; secondly, that the medium was
standing on the 
table in the darkness, and lifted me himself. To the first
suggestion I reply 
that the ceiling was plain, smooth, whitewashed plaster, with never
a crack in 
it, for I climbed again upon my chair in full light afterwards to
examine it; 
and though it was some distance beyond my reach, it would have been
utterly 
impossible to miss seeing a crack if one had been there. Besides,
my request 
could not have been foreseen, and arrangements made to grant it in
so striking a 
manner. As to the second hypothesis, the medium was a small, spare
man, and I 
weigh over thirteen stone; perhaps the sceptic who suggests this
will himself 
stand upon the edge of a circular dining-table with one central
support, and 
then with one hand lift a much heavier man than himself straight up
above his 
own head, holding him suspended merely by one of his hands all the
while.
 
   
тRUе levitation
   
The probabilities are that all the cases of lifting which I have
quoted or 
described were performed by materialized hands, just as in this last
experience 
of my own. There is quite another method of levitation which is
occasionally 
practiced in Oriental countries — a much more occult and scientific
method, 
dependent for its success upon the knowledge and use of a power of
repulsion 
which balances the action of gravitation. I have also seen that,
and indeed 
every student of practical magic is familiar with its employment;
but it does 
not seem to me at all probable that this power was called into
requisition in 
any of the above cases.
   
Gravitation is in fact a force of a magnetic nature, and may be
reversed and 
changed into repulsion, just as ordinary magnetism can be. Such a
reversal of 
this peculiar type of magnetism can be produced at will by one who
has learnt 
its secret, but it has also frequently been produced
unintentionally by 
ecstatics of various types. It is related, for example, both of St.
Teresa and 
of St. Joseph of Cupertino that they were often thus levitated
while engaged in 
meditation. But I fancy that those who are levitated at a
spiritualistic seance 
are generally simply upborne by the materialized hands of the dead.
   
These same materialized hands manage all the smaller business of
the seance; 
they wind up the perennial musical box and wave it over the heads of
the 
sitters; they play (sometimes quite sweetly) upon that curious kind
of miniature 
zither which is usually euphoniously termed “fairy bells”; they
sprinkle water 
or perfume sometimes; they bring flowers and fruits and even lumps
of sugar, 
which I have known them deftly to insert into the mouths of their
friends.
   
It is usually they also that are employed in slate-writing, though
this may 
sometimes be managed still more rapidly by means of precipitation,
to which we 
shall make reference presently. But generally the fragment of
pencil enclosed 
between the slates is guided by a hand, of which only just the tiny
points 
sufficient to grasp it are materialized.
 
   
A slate-wRiting seance
   
One well-known medium in London used to carry this slate-writing to
a high 
degree of perfection some fifty years ago. It was the finest
possible 
performance to which to take the bigoted sceptic, who boasted that
nothing ever 
happened or would happen while he was present. One made an
appointment with the 
medium for, say, eleven o’clock on a bright summer morning; one
took the sceptic 
into a stationer’s shop on the way and made him buy two ordinary
school slates, 
put a tiny crumb of slate-pencil between them (or sometimes two or
three 
fragments of different colours) and then have them packed up in
brown paper and 
strongly tied. One then purchased a stick of the best sealing wax
and requested 
the sceptic to seal the string with his own seal in as many places
as he wished 
— the more the better — and on no account whatever to allow that
parcel to go 
out of his hands.
   
Then we proceeded to the medium’s house and commenced the seance,
cautioning the 
sceptic to sit upon his parcel in order to make sure that no one
tampered with 
his slates. The medium commenced operations with slates of his
own, which were 
always lying upon the table for examination before the seance
began; and the 
sceptic had usually elaborate theories about these, as to how
messages had 
already been written upon them, and washed out with alcohol so that
they would 
presently reappear; or else that of course they would presently be
dropped out 
of sight and others substituted for them by sleight-of-hand. It was
best as a 
rule to let him talk, and take no notice, knowing that one could
afford to bide 
one’s time.
   
The medium usually held a single slate pressed with one hand
against the under 
surface of the table — a little plain wooden table with no drawers,
and 
obviously no contrivance of any sort about it — not even a cloth
upon it. Under 
these conditions answers were written to any simple question, or
any sentence 
dictated was faithfully taken down. Here the sceptic usually
interposed by 
requesting that a sentence might be written in Sanskrit or Chinese
or the 
Cherokee dialect, and was hugely triumphant if the controlling
“spirit” 
confessed that he did not happen to know these languages.
Occasionally he 
fetched somebody who did know them, and then the sceptic was
somewhat staggered, 
though he still clung to the idea that somehow or other the whole
thing was a 
fraud.
   
Presently, however, when the seance got into full swing, one
insinuatingly asked 
the directing entities whether they could write upon our own
slates; and though 
I have once or twice been told that they feared the power was not
sufficient, in 
three cases out of four the reply was in the affirmative. Then one
turned to the 
sceptic and requested him to produce his parcel, asking him to
examine the seals 
so as to be perfectly certain that it had not been touched. He was
then 
courteously requested to hold the sealed parcel in his own hands
above the 
table, the medium perhaps taking hold of one corner of it, or
perhaps merely 
laying his hand lightly upon it. Then the sceptic was further
requested to 
formulate a mental question, but on no account to give any
indication as to its 
nature. He did this, and it was generally an interesting study to
watch the 
expression of his face when he heard the sound of rapid writing
going on in the 
parcel between his hands. In a few moments three quick taps
signified that the 
message was finished, and the medium removed his hand, gravely
asking the 
sceptic to examine his seals and make sure that they were intact.
   
He then cut his parcel open, and found the inside surfaces of his
new slates 
covered with fine writing on the subject of his mental question.
Usually for the 
time he was speechless, and went home to think it over; but by the
end of the 
week he had generally made up his mind that we had been in some
inexplicable way 
deceived or hallucinated, and that “of course we did not really see
what we 
thought we saw.” Nevertheless it was a hard nut to crack, and his
frequent 
references later to “that clever but ridiculous performance” showed
that it 
remained in his mind, and had perhaps done him more good than he
was willing to 
own.
   
The answers given in this way sometimes displayed considerable
intelligence and 
knowledge. It appeared to me, however, that they were often
considerably 
modified by decided opinions on the part of the questioner —
whether from a 
friendly desire to please him, or because the ideas were largely a
reflection 
of those in his own mind, there was not sufficient evidence to
show. For 
example, I remember myself receiving a perfectly definite statement
regarding 
the existence of certain persons in whom I was deeply interested;
the 
communicating entity not only positively asserted this existence,
but  adopted 
towards them precisely my own attitude. Yet I afterwards discovered
that only a 
week previously what professed to be the same entity had, in
writing answers for 
another person, totally denied that any such personages existed at
all! It may 
have been that here we had to deal with two entirely different
communicating 
entities, one masquerading for some reason or other under the name
and title of 
the other; but it is at least significant that in each case the
opinion 
expressed agreed precisely with that of the questioner. On the
other hand, I am 
bound to admit that in many cases the answers given were not at all
what any of 
us expected, and contained information which could by no
possibility have been 
known to any of those present.
   
It is not difficult to see why this slate-writing should be one of
the easiest 
forms of conveying a message, and indeed the only kind of writing
that can 
readily be performed in full daylight. For the fact is that it
never is 
performed in daylight, even though the surrounding conditions are
so absolutely 
satisfactory to us. Between the two slates or between the slate and
the table 
there is always the darkness which makes materialization easy. When
a physical 
body is slowly grown and built together in the ordinary way, when
it is 
thoroughly permeated by the vital principle and definitely
energized by the 
spirit, it becomes a relatively permanent organism, and can
withstand the impact 
of vibrations from without, within certain limits.
   
We must remember that materialization is a mere imitation of this —
a mere 
concourse of fortuitous atoms, temporarily put together in
opposition to the 
ordinary laws and arrangements of nature. It therefore needs to be
constantly 
held together with care and difficulty, and any violent vibration
striking it 
from without readily breaks it up. It must also be remembered that
the matter 
employed in materialization is almost all withdrawn from the body
of the medium, 
and is therefore subject to a strong attraction which is constantly
drawing it 
back to him. The strong and rapid vibrations of ordinary light will
therefore 
dissolve a materialization almost instantaneously, except under
exceptional 
circumstances.
   
It can be maintained for some time in presence of a faint light,
such as that 
given by gas turned low, or by what is called a “luminous slate”,
which is 
usually a piece of wood or cardboard coated with luminous paint,
and exposed to 
the sun during the day, so that at night it may give out a faint
phosphorescent 
radiance. It is, however, among the resources of the astral plane
to produce a 
soft light the effect of which seems to be far less violent; and in
this it is 
sometimes possible for the hand which writes to maintain its
corporeal existence 
for a considerable period, as is evidenced by the following
extract from a 
description of a seance held with Kate Fox by Mr. Livermore on
August 18, .
 
   
an hour’s writing
   
The cards became the center of a circle of light a foot in
diameter. Carefully 
watching this phenomenon, I saw the hand holding my pencil over one
of the 
cards. This hand moved quietly across from left to light, and when
one line was 
finished, moved back to commence another. At first it was a
perfectly shaped 
hand, afterwards it became a dark substance, smaller than the human
hand, but 
still apparently holding the pencil, the writing going on at
intervals, and the 
whole remaining visible for nearly an hour. I can conceive of no
better evidence 
for the reality of spirit-writing. Every possible precaution
against deception 
had been taken. I held both hands of the medium throughout the
whole time. I 
have the cards still, minutely written on both sides; the
sentiments there 
expressed being of the most elevated character, pure and spiritual.
(The 
Debatable Land, p. .)
   
This account gives us an example of the difficulty, even under
these 
exceptionally favourable conditions, of maintaining a
materialization for so 
long a period. It seems to have been impossible to preserve the
shape of the 
hand, but something visible which could still hold and guide the
pencil was 
somehow kept together until the necessary work was finished.
   
It seems probable that the working of the little board called
planchette is 
sometimes accomplished by means of a partial materialization, for I
have seen 
cases in which it distinctly moved underneath the fingers which
were resting 
upon it, and was in no way moved by them. When it is clearly the
hand which 
moves the board, this phenomenon of course belongs to our first
class, in which 
the body of the medium is utilized, though that medium may be
entirely 
unconscious of what is being done.
 
   
direct painting
   
I have also seen some good specimens of painting which were
probably executed in 
the same manner as the writing above described. I say probably,
because as they 
were executed in darkness, it is impossible to be absolutely sure;
they may have 
been precipitations, although as that is a more difficult process,
I do not 
think that it is likely to have been employed. There have been
mediums who have 
made a specialty of this production of pictures, and it is
certainly a very 
pleasing exhibition of astral power. I have twice seen a little
landscape, 
perhaps eight inches by five, produced in total darkness on a
marked piece of 
paper in from fifteen to twenty minutes. The execution was fair,
the colours 
were natural and harmonious, and some of the paint was still wet
when the lights 
were turned up. I am perfectly sure that the sheet of paper
employed was in each 
case that which I brought with me. In one instance, just before the
lights were 
turned down, I tore a curiously jagged fragment off one of the
corners of the 
piece and kept it in my own possession until the picture was
completed, and 
found when the lights were turned up that it fitted exactly into
the tear in the 
sheet upon which the landscape was drawn.
   
On neither of these occasions was the landscape one which I
recognized, though 
at the house of the same medium I have seen well-executed paintings
of scenes 
with which I was familiar, which I was told had been produced in
exactly the 
same manner. In both of these cases a box of water-colours, a
palette and 
brushes were provided, and after the seance they bore signs of
having been used. 
I have also on another occasion, and with a different medium, seen
a much larger 
drawing in coloured chalks produced in darkness in even less time,
but in this 
case the execution, though bold and dashing, was certainly crude
and erratic. 
The subject in this case was a lady’s head, and the likeness was
recognizable, 
though not flattering. On all these occasions it was absolutely
certain that the 
medium was in no way concerned in the production of the pictures,
his hands 
being held during the whole time, and the outline of his form being
sufficiently 
visible in two of the cases to prevent him from moving without
instant 
detection.
 
   
musical performances
   
A man who has attained facility during life in the management of
any kind of 
instrument does not lose his power when he drops his physical body.
I have heard 
both a violin and a flute played fairly well by invisible hands,
when there was 
light enough to see that the instruments were not being touched by
any of the 
persons present in the physical body. I have also many times seen a
concertina 
played in the same way, sometimes while I myself held the other end
of the 
instrument. Many times also a piano has been played in my presence
by invisible 
hands, and it seemed to make no difference whether the lid
enclosing the 
keyboard was open or shut. Sometimes, before beginning to play, the
dead man 
would dash back the lid, and then we could see the keys depressed
as the playing 
went on precisely as though we ourselves had been operating upon
the instrument. 
If during the performance we closed the piano, the playing usually
went on just 
as if it had remained open. On two occasions I have heard the wires
of a piano 
played without moving the keys, just as the strings of a harp might
be.
   
Another instance of a man who after death retained his power to
operate a 
machine to which he had been accustomed during life is given by Sir
William 
Crookes on p. 95 of his book. The operator was not exactly using
his instrument, 
but he undoubtedly showed that he still possessed the power to do
so, had the 
instrument been there. The story is as follows:
 
   
the telegRaph opeRatoR
   
During a seance with Mr. Home, a small lath, which I have before
mentioned, 
moved across the table to me, in the light, and delivered a message
to me by 
tapping my hand; I repeating the alphabet, and the lath tapping me
at the right 
letters. The other end of the lath was resting on the table, some
distance from 
Mr. Home’s hands.
   
The taps were so sharp and clear, and the lath was evidently so
well under 
control of the invisible power which was governing its movements,
that I said: 
“Can the intelligence governing the motion of this lath change the
character of 
the movements, and give me a telegraphic message through the Morse
alphabet by 
taps on my hand?” (I have every reason to believe that the Morse
code was quite 
unknown to any other person present, and it was only imperfectly
known to me.) 
Immediately I said this, the character of the taps changed, and the
message was 
continued in the way I had requested. The letters were given too
rapidly for me 
to do more than catch a word here and there, and consequently I
lost the 
message; but I heard sufficient to convince me that there was a
good Morse 
operator at the other end of the line, wherever that might be.
 
   
the direct voice
   
In the case of the flute above mentioned it is obvious that the
performer must 
have materialized not only finger-tips to press the keys, but also
a mouth with 
which to blow. It is by no means uncommon at a seance for the dead
man to 
construct vocal organs sufficiently to produce intelligible sound,
though this 
appears to be (as indeed one would naturally suppose) a much more
difficult feat 
than the production of a hand. Often the construction of such
organs seems to be 
imperfect, and the resulting voice is a hoarse whistling whisper. I
think almost 
invariably the first attempts of an unaccustomed ghost to
materialize a voice go 
no further than the softest of whispers; but on the other hand the
“spirit 
guide” of a regular medium, having practiced the art of
materializing organs and 
speaking through them many hundreds of times, often possesses a
perfectly 
natural and characteristic voice.
   
All those who have been in the habit of attending the seances of
certain 
well-known mediums during the last half-century must be familiar
with the round, 
sonorous voice of the director who elects to be known by the name
of “John 
King”, and the hearty, friendly manner in which he greets those
whom he has come 
to know and trust. I well remember an occasion when, having invited
a medium 
down to my cottage in the country, we were walking together across
a 
wheat-field, and a well-known “spirit-voice” joined in our conversation
in the 
most natural way in the world, just exactly as if a third person
had been 
walking with us.
   
I am quite aware that the ordinary explanation of a “spirit-voice”
is that it is 
an effort of ventriloquism on the part of the medium, but when one
recognizes 
the voice as one well known in earth-life that explanation seems a
trifle 
unsatisfactory. Also it seems to me to fail to account for the fact
that on one 
occasion, at a seance in my own house, the unseen performers
treated us to a 
song in which all four parts were distinctly audible, two of them
being taken by 
very good female voices — and that although the medium was of the
male sex (and 
in a deep trance anyhow) and none but men (trusted friends of my
own) were 
physically present in the room.
   
Under this head of partial materialization we must also include
what are 
sometimes called “spirit photographs”; for whatever can be
photographed must of 
course be physical matter, capable of reflecting some of the rays
of light which 
can act upon the sensitized plate of the camera. It does not at all
follow that 
it need be composed of matter visible to us, for the camera is
sensitive to a 
large range of actinic ultra-violet rays which produce no
impression whatever 
upon our eyes as at present constituted.
   
I know enough of photography to realize how easily a so-called 
“spirit-photograph” could be produced by trickery, but I also know
that there 
are a great many which were as a matter of fact not so produced. I
have seen a 
large number of those which were taken under test conditions for
Mr. W. T. Stead 
when he was investigating this curious form of mediumship, and I
have also been 
favoured with a sight of several of those taken by and for our late
Vice-President, Mr. A. P. Sinnett.
 
   
interesting photographs
.                                                                         A 
good typical case of this photography of the partially materialized
dead was 
related to me by a veteran army officer. It seems that he had lost
(as we 
usually call it) three daughters by death, within a comparatively
short space of 
time. One day in a large city, hundreds of miles from home, he saw
an 
advertisement of a photographer who professed to be able to produce
portraits of 
the dead, so he turned into his studio then and there, and asked to
be taken. He 
gave no indication of what he expected, or indeed that he expected
anything at 
all beyond his own portrait; and he asserts that it was absolutely
impossible 
that he could have been, in any way known to the photographer. Yet
when he 
called for the portraits three floating faces appeared grouped
about his own, 
fainter than his, but unmistakably recognizable. He showed me the
photograph, 
and also the portraits of his daughters taken during their physical
life; they 
were unquestionably the same young ladies as those in the picture
taken after 
their death.
   
In Photographing the Invisible Dr. James Coates gives us a number
of examples of 
photographs on which appear psychic “extras,” as they are sometimes
called. 
Many of these were produced under conditions which precluded any
sort of 
preparation of the plates, and were developed in the presence of
reliable 
witnesses. A curious example on the photograph of a Chinese man is
recounted by 
Mr. Edward Wyllie, a well-known American “spirit-photographer”.
(pp. 167-.)
.                                                                        
I 
had been giving tests to some gentlemen in Los Angeles in
connection with the 
Psychic Research Society. Some were convinced of the fact of
psychic 
photography, and others were not. It was suggested by one member it
would be a 
good thing if I could obtain “extras” on the plate of someone
wholly ignorant of 
both the subject and of spiritualism. Then it could not be said
that their 
knowledge or attitude had anything to do with the results. It was
not easy to 
get someone with the qualifications desired. When one day
“Charlie,” a Chinese 
laundryman, called for my clothes, it struck me to ask him:
“Charlie, like to 
have your picture taken?” “No,” he replied. “No likee that.” He
knew that I was 
a photographer, but had a dislike, I think, to photography, as most
Chinese 
have. I tried to persuade him after he had called two or three
times. I showed 
him that there could be no harm in it, and I would take a “glass”
(as negatives 
are called) for nothing, and print him some nice pictures of
himself. Charlie 
wanted to go home and change his clothes, but I knew it would not
do to let him 
slip, and got him to sit. He was very much scared. I made his mind
easy and 
asked him to come in a few days, and I would give him the pictures.
When I 
developed the negative there were two “extras “on it — a Chinese
boy and some 
Chinese writing. When Charlie came round I showed him the print,
and he said: 
“That my boy; where you catchee him? “I asked him if it was not one
of his 
cousins in the city. He said, “No, that my boy. He not here; where
you catchee 
him?” I asked him where his boy was, and he said, “That my boy.
He’s in China. 
Not seen him for three years.”
   
Charlie would not believe that I had not by some magic got his “boy
here”. 
Charlie then brought other Chinamen — friends of his own — to see
the picture, 
and they all recognised the youngster. Charlie did not know that
his son was 
dead. As far as he knew, he was alive and well.
   
Mr. Wyllie also had remarkable success in obtaining the same sort
of psychic 
impressions upon photographs of letters and locks of hair. Dr.
Coates relates 
(p. 197 et seq.) that before Mr. Wyllie was induced to visit
Scotland, a test of 
his photography was proposed in The Two Worlds (1st Jan., 1909). In
consequence 
about forty people sent locks of hair to be photographed. All got
some “extras,” 
some of which were identifiable portraits of departed friends.
   
Among the experimenters were Mrs. A. S. Hunter, widow of Dr.
Archibald Hunter of 
Bridge of Allan, and Mme. A. L. Pogosky, also a widow, director of
the Russian 
Peasant Industries in London. The photograph of Mme. Pogosky’s card
had two 
psychic faces upon it — one of Dr. Hunter, and the other that of
the deceased 
wife of Mr. Auld, a friend of Dr. Coates’. Mrs. Hunter's photograph
showed, in 
addition to the letter and lock of hair which she had sent, three
forms, 
identified as an old schoolfellow, and a niece and nephew, all
dead. Referring 
to the picture of Mrs. Auld, Dr. Coates remarks:
.                                                                        
Here we have an identified portrait of a lady, taken by a stranger
six thousand 
miles away, wholly ignorant of Mr. Auld or ourselves. I had not
written this 
medium (Mr. Wyllie) till the 17th of March, 1909, nearly two months
after this 
picture was obtained, and of its existence none in Rothesay were
aware till . . 
. nearly fourteen months afterwards. Truly truth is stranger than
fiction.
   
Later Mr. Wyllie visited Dr. and Mrs. Coates in Scotland, and took
many “spirit” 
photographs there. When he was packing up his things preparatory to
taking his 
departure Mrs. Coates (who was herself psychic) had a sudden
impulse to ask for 
a sitting. Mr. Wyllie had packed away his favourite camera, but
there were still 
in the room a Kodak camera and some plates purchased locally, that
is, in 
Rothesay. One of the plates was exposed on Mrs. Coates, and when
developed 
showed also a good likeness of her grandmother (p. 223),
   
That Mr. Wyllie’s “extras” could be produced under test conditions
was proved by 
the report of a test committee, appointed by the Glasgow Association
of 
Spiritualists. They stipulated that they should provide the camera
and plates; 
the former belonged to one of the committee, the latter, eight in
number, were 
bought at the nearest chemist’s twenty minutes before the meeting,
and were put 
into slides in the chemist’s dark room. After the plates were
exposed they were 
immediately placed in the camera bag and taken away by the
committee and 
developed. Under these test conditions several of the plates showed
psychic 
impressions. (pp. 253-.)
 
-------Cardiff Theosophical Society in Wales-------
206 Newport Road, Cardiff, Wales, UK. CF24-1DL                                                                       
Chapter VII
.                                                                        
THE 
MANIPULATION OF PSYCHIC RODS
 
   
the goligher circle
   
In three valuable little books — The Reality of Psychic Phenomena
(1916), 
Experiments in Psychical Science (1919), and Psychic Structures
(1921) — the 
late Mr. W. J. Crawford, D.Sc., of Belfast, Ireland, has given us a
carefully 
classified account of a long series of investigations into the
telekinetic 
phenomena of the Goligher Circle, his studies having been carried
on especially 
from the mechanical point of view. The circle is so called because
it is 
composed of the principal medium, Miss Kathleen Goligher, and other
members of 
her family, namely her three sisters, brother, father and
brother-in-law, with 
only occasional visitors.
 
   
recording the sounds
   
It is characteristic of Dr. Crawford’s methods that at the very
beginning of his 
research he should seek to convince himself and the rest of the
circle that they 
were merely subjects of hallucinatory sense-images induced by the
peculiar 
conditions of the seance-room. This he did by taking a number of
phonograph 
records. He explained to the invisible operators, with whom he was
in 
communication by means of raps, that he was about to make a record,
and 
requested them to give as complete a selection as possible of the
various sounds 
which they had been producing in the circle, and all within the
space of time 
permitted by the revolutions of the recording cylinder. About this
he says:
.                                                          
              I 
then asked the operators if all was ready, and on their replying by
three raps 
in the affirmative I called out, “Start”. Immediately a thunderous
blow 
resounded on the floor and I started the machine. Half a dozen
sledgehammer 
blows, varieties of double and treble knocks, and shufflings like
sand-paper 
rubbing the floor were given in succession; the hand-bell was
lifted and rung; 
the legs of the table were raised and knocked on the floor; the
sound of wood 
being apparently sawn was heard; and so on. They kept up this
terrific noise 
until I called out, “Stop”; when, at the word, perfect silence
reigned. We then 
tried the record, and found that most of the noises had been
recorded; but the 
bell, owing to its being rung too far away, was almost inaudible. I
therefore 
suggested to the operators that they should ring the bell right in
the middle of 
the circle and as near the trumpet of the phonograph as possible,
and I promised 
not to upset their conditions of equilibrium by attempting to touch
it. 
Accordingly, during the taking of the next record the bell was rung
within an 
inch or two of my hand, and so close to the trumpet that it
accidently touched 
it and knocked it off the instrument. This partly spoiled the
record.
   
In all, three good records and the partly spoiled one were taken,
and these show 
beyond dispute, as was anticipated, that the sounds are ordinary
objective 
sounds. (R. P. P., pp. 30-.)
 
   
weighing the medium
   
Further on in the same book Dr. Crawford records a number of
experiments in 
which he weighed the medium before and during the levitation of the
table or 
stool placed in the center of the circle of the sitters, it being
never in 
contact with any portion of the body or dress of the medium or any
other sitter. 
His conclusions as to this are given as follows:
(a)                When the
table is steadily levitated, a weight is added to 
the medium very nearly equal to the weight of the table.
(b)                The seat
of the reaction would therefore appear to be chiefly 
the medium herself.
(c)                 Taking an
average over the six cases, the increased weight 
on the medium seems to be about 3 per cent less than the weight of
the levitated 
table. (pp. 44-.)
   
Wishing then to discover if any of the weight of the steadily
levitated table 
was added to other members of the circle, he asked Mr. Morrison
(the 
brother-in-law) to sit on the chair on the weighing machine which
had previously 
been occupied by the medium, while she sat on an ordinary chair in
the circle. 
When the table was levitated, Mr. Morrison’s weight rose two
ounces. As this 
might have been due to other causes, Dr. Crawford balanced the
steelyard of the 
weighing machine and then, asked the operators to jerk the table up
and down in 
the air. While it was moving, the steelyard went up and down
lightly against the 
stops, in synchronism with the movement of the table. After a
number of such 
experiments he drew the conclusion that when the table is steadily
levitated the 
reaction falls upon the body of the medium to the extent of at
least 95%, and 
that a small proportion is distributed over the bodies of the other
sitters. 
Thus:
.                                                                        
As 
Admiral Moore suggests, when a table is steadily levitated the
effect is 
precisely the same as it would be if the medium lifted it herself
with her 
hands, aided by a very slight assistance from the members
constituting the 
circle — say, the help that could be given by a force applied by
one finger 
each. (p. .)
 
   
the lines oF force
   
Dr. Crawford goes on to relate that in the course of many
investigations, when 
he and others sought to press down the levitated table they
encountered an 
elastic resistance, but to their surprise, when they tried to push
the table 
towards the medium they found a perfectly rigid or solid
resistance. Whenever a 
visitor undertook to try to prevent the table from rising, it did
so 
nevertheless; first the two legs nearest to the medium rose, as
though the table 
were being tilted at the inclination most suitable for a projection
from the 
medium to gain the shortest and most powerful grasp. As this
occurred wherever 
the visitor might be standing (though it must be understood that he
was in no 
case permitted to do so directly between the medium and the table)
it would seem 
that there is a projection in the direction suggested by the
diagram reproduced 
herewith. (Fig. 4, p. .)
 
 
   
.                                                                         
 
 
   
Further experiments with a compression spring-balance under the
table, when the 
operators were requested to levitate the table in their usual
manner, gave the 
result, to take one example, that the vertical reaction for the
seance table 
weighing103/8 lb, was greater than 28 lb, and showed that there was
also a 
horizontal pressure against the balance and away from the medium,
amounting to 
about 5 lb. (p. 120). A stool weighing 23/4 lb when levitated above
a drawing 
board weighing 51/2 lb resting upon a compression spring-balance,
registered a 
downward force of about 24 lb. In this class of experiments it is
evident that 
in the total we have pressing upon the drawing-board the weight of
the stool 
plus that of the pillar of psychic matter which is supporting it.
In the earlier 
type of experiment mentioned above, we have evidently a cantilever
support from 
the medium, not resting on the floor. The full researches into
these matters 
showed Dr. Crawford that in most cases the cantilever form was used
when it 
would not inconvenience the medium by tending to overbalance her.
(p. .)
   
 
   
Dr. Crawford next invented a very delicate “contact-maker”. Two
pieces of 
cardboard (c) and wood (w) were hinged together as shown in the
diagram (Fig. 
22, p. 139). Two small strips of clock-spring (ss) were attached to
these, and 
to an electric bell circuit, so that when any pressure was exerted
upon the 
wood and cardboard sides so as to bring the two strips into contact
the bell 
would ring. The instrument was so delicate that heavy breathing
upon it was 
sufficient to cause contact. With this instrument Dr. Crawford
explored the 
field under the levitated table and near to the medium, and thus
found the 
situation of the stress-lines of the force from the medium to the
table, as in 
both cases the bell rang at certain points and the levitation was
then 
interrupted in some degree. On this he writes as follows:
   
I have some reason to believe that the establishing of these
stress-lines (the 
links) is for the operators a difficult process, and that once
formed they 
remain more or less in situ for the duration of the seance. I think
they may be 
likened to tunnels somewhat laboriously cut through resisting
material. Their 
basis seems to be physical, for I have actually felt the motion of
material 
particles near the ankles (and proceeding outwards from them) of
the medium (the 
stress-lines seem to commence sometimes at the wrists and ankles of
my medium), 
and I have noticed during the rapping that when my hand interferes
with the 
particle flow — which seems to correspond with a stress-line — the
rapping has 
ceased for quite a long time and could seemingly only be restarted
with 
difficulty. In other words, the path had been obliterated. I do not
think the 
particles of matter (for such I am assuming them to be) are the
cause of the 
pressure which lifts the table. I think they are the connecting
links which 
allow the psychic pressure to be transmitted, much in the manner
that a wire is 
a path which enables electricity to flow. (pp. 140-1).
 
   
feeling the substance
   
In Experiment 65 (p. 145) Dr. Crawford describes what this
substance feels like 
to the touch. He says:
.                                                                         I
felt no sense of pressure whatever, but I did feel a clammy, cold,
almost oily 
sensation — in fact, an indescribable sensation, as though the air
there were 
mixed with particles of dead and disagreeable matter. Perhaps the
best word to 
describe the feeling is “reptilian”. I have felt the same substance
often — and 
I think it is a substance — in the vicinity of the medium, but
there it has 
appeared to me to be moving outwards from her. Once felt, the
experimenter 
always recognizes it again. This was the only occasion on which I
have felt it 
under the levitated table, though perhaps it is always there, but
not usually in 
such an intense form. Its presence under the table and also in the
vicinity of 
the medium shows that it has something to do with the levitation;
and in short 
I think there can be little doubt that it is actual matter
temporarily taken 
from the medium’s body and put back at the end of the seance, and
that it is the 
basic principle underlying the transmission of psychic force.
   
The above-mentioned test was made with his hand under the table
near the top 
while it was levitated. When he moved his hand to and fro among the
psychic 
stuff the table soon dropped. On page 225 he also mentions that he
has often 
felt the same cold, clammy, reptile-like sensation near the ankles
of the medium 
when rapping was taking place close to her feet at the commencement
of a seance, 
though he would never experiment in this way at an important
sitting, because he 
found that it interrupted the flow of matter and put a stop to the
phenomena for 
the time being.
   
The sensation would lead him to believe that the same quality of
matter is 
present during rapping as under the levitated table, and he noticed
that in the 
former case it is in motion in the direction from the body of the
medium 
outwards; this, he says, can easily be observed by the spore-like
sensation as 
of soft particles moving gently against the hand. He adds that
during levitation 
of the table he never actually interrupted the line of stress from
the medium to 
the table with his hand, but he sometimes placed delicate
pressure-recording 
apparatus in that line, which showed that there was some mechanical
pressure 
close to the body of the medium and acting outwards from her
towards the 
levitated table. In every case the placing of the apparatus in that
line soon 
caused the table to drop.
   
In Psychic Structures (p. 61) he adds that he distinctly felt a
cold breeze 
issuing from the neighbourhood of the medium’s ankles and the
region just above 
her shoes, which appeared to be caused by material particles of a
cold, 
disagreeable, spore-like matter. As his investigations proceeded
he came to 
know quite certainly that what he was really doing was to cut
across the part of 
the structure which was not heavily materialized, as is the end
with which its 
work is done.
   
Sometimes Dr. Crawford did come in contact with the end of a rod.
On some 
occasions the operators held the end of a rod stationary in the air
while he 
pressed against it and kicked it, and found it “softish but very
dense”. He says 
(Psychic Structures, p. 31) that during one of the tests, when he
was poking 
about the floor in the medium's neighbourhood with a wooden rod,
he accidently 
came against the end of a psychic rod which happened to be out an
inch or two up 
in the air. In the same place he mentions that the suckers on the
ends of the 
rods can often be heard slipping over the wood, when they are
presumably being 
forced off or are taking new grips. He mentions (p. 32) an occasion
when the 
table suddenly dropped about six inches in the air and
simultaneously there was 
heard a swishing noise.
   
A visitor to the Circle, Mr. Arthur Hunter, also describes what he
himself felt, 
as follows:
   
Towards the end of the seance I asked the “operators” (having first
obtained the 
permission of the leader of the circle) if they could place the end
of the 
structure in one of my hands. On the reply “Yes” I went inside the
circle, lay 
down on my right side on the floor alongside the table, and placed
my gloved 
right hand between the two nearest legs of the table. Almost
immediately I felt 
the impact of a nearly circular rod-like body about 2 inches in
diameter on the 
palm of my hand, which was held palm upwards. (The back of my hand
was towards 
the floor and at a distance of about 5 in. from it.) This circular
rod-like body 
was flat at the end, i.e., as if the rod were sawn across. It
maintained a 
steady pressure evenly distributed over the area of impact, and
was soft but 
firm to the sense of touch. I estimate the magnitude of pressure at
from 4 to 6 
oz. Without being requested to do so, the “operators” moved this
rod-like 
structure until I felt the clearly defined edges of the circular
blunt end. This 
was accompanied by a sensation of roughness, as though the edge
were serrated, 
such a feeling, I believe, as would be given by a substance similar
to very fine 
emery paper, (pp. 21-.)
   
In addition to this feeling, he had occasionally had fitful
glimpses of the 
psychic matter in the ordinary red light of the seance room, but
in 1919 Dr. 
Crawford made a discovery which enabled the form to be much more
easily seen. A 
sheet of cardboard about one foot square was covered with luminous
paint, 
exposed to sunlight for some hours and then placed on the floor
within the 
circle. In the dark seance-room such luminous sheets shone quite
strongly. While 
the medium had her feet and ankles locked in a box the operators
were asked to 
bring out the structure and hold it over the phosphorescent sheet.
In a short 
time a curved body somewhat resembling the toe of a boot advanced
into the 
light. The operators modified it into many shapes, while Dr.
Crawford watched 
the changes. The end portion would contract and gradually lengthen
until a 
pointed shape was produced, and then that would sometimes curl
round into a 
hook, twisting and untwisting before his eyes. It could also spread
out sideways 
until it resembled a mushroom or a cabbage. The flexibility, he
says, was 
marvellous. (pp. 111-3).
 
   
the cantilevers
   
Following upon a great number and variety of experiments Dr.
Crawford put 
forward his cantilever theory for levitation of light tables, based
upon the 
fact that (1) during steady levitation with no apparatus or other
impedimenta 
below the table, the weight of the table is practically added to
that of the 
medium; (2) the medium is under stress, the muscles of her arms
from wrist to 
shoulder being rigid, and other parts of the body being similarly
affected, 
though to a less degree, and (3) there is no reaction on the floor
under the 
table. The idea that the force employed is in the form of a
cantilever issuing 
direct to the table from the body of the medium is also supported
by the facts 
that vertical pressure meets with elastic resistance, while
pressure towards the 
medium meets with solid resistance. His summation of the theory,
after 
considering all mechanical evidence, and after conversing on the
subject with 
the operators by means of raps, was that:
   
The cantilever arm gets under the table — probably a more or less
straight arm 
in this case, as there is little stress. Whatever the physical
composition of 
the substratum of the end of the arm may be, it has the power to
take an 
adhesive grip on certain substances, such as wood, with which it
comes into 
contact. The broad columnar end of the arm grips adhesively the
under surface of 
the table. (R.P.P., p. 167).
   
On page 230 (R. P. P.) this theory is confirmed by a lady
clairvoyant who 
happened to be present at some of the experiments. She said that
she saw under 
the table, close to the under surface and extending down a little
way, a whitish 
vapoury substance which increased in density when the table was
levitated. She 
was able to call out that a movement was about to occur before it
actually took 
place, by noticing the increase of density and opacity. She
explained that the 
column did not reach to the floor, but that a band of it came from
the medium 
and was continuous with that under the table, and also that there
were very thin 
bands, like ribbons, coming from all the other sitters as well, and
joining it. 
She also saw various “spirit forms” and “spirit hands” manipulating
the psychic 
material.
   
But the culmination of proof arrived when Dr. Crawford succeeded in
taking 
photographs of the structure. Quite a number of photographs of
matter thus 
issuing from the medium and forming these structures have been
published in 
Psychic Structures. The first of these faces page 10, and shows the
general form 
of the structure as above described, and the fact that it is
connected not only 
with the medium but also with other sitters,
 
.                                                                        
In Experiments in Psychical Science (p. 14) Dr. Crawford recounts
how he 
obtained from the operators a description of the dimensions and
shape of a 
normal levitating cantilever. They said that the top of the
columnar part of the 
cantilever is spread out into a broad flat surface of area approximating
to the 
under surface of the table, that the vertical and horizontal
sections are about 
4 inches in diameter, the latter being 3 or 4 inches above the
floor, and that 
just before entering the body of the medium the rod widens out to a
diameter of 
about 7 inches. Dr. Crawford drew the figure which we reproduce
herewith (Fig. 
6, E.P.S., p. 15) to show these facts.
.                                                                         
 
 
   
It was found in certain experiments (E.P.S., p. 31), that when the
levitated 
table was heavily weighted the medium’s body swung gently forward,
and she said 
that she felt herself being urged forward, though she was not
conscious of any 
mechanical pressure. When she swung strongly forward the table
dropped. Dr. 
Crawford then told her to hold on with her hands to the arms of the
chair, while 
he placed an additional weight on the table, increasing the whole
to nearly 48 
lbs. “When the table levitated the medium’s chair tilted forward on
its two 
front legs and the table dropped.
.                                                                        
All 
this was further confirmation of the cantilever method. The
operators explained 
(p. 33) that they prefer to work with a cantilever, for when they
rest the 
structure on the floor, as is necessary in some kinds of
demonstration, it is 
badly strained and much energy is required to maintain its
rigidity. So for all 
moderate weights, that is up to about 80 lbs. a true cantilever is
employed, but 
for greater and variable forces they use a supported structure.
   
The question arose (E.P.S., p. 117) as to how the ends of rods and
cantilevers 
could be acting at their junction with the medium’s body, for
certainly a 
structure several feet long and supporting 30 or 40 lbs. weight at
its end, if 
it were a rigid bar, would cause serious pressure, and indeed
injury. Dr. 
Crawford thinks that the explanation is to be found in the
different condition 
of the matter. He speaks of X-matter, which can transmit through
itself direct 
and shear stresses, but cannot transmit them from itself to
ordinary matter. 
Then he posits Y-matter, a modified form of the former, which is
what is usually 
called materialized substance. Then he says:
.                                                                        
The 
Y-matter at the free end of, say, the psychic cantilever, grips
the wood of the 
under-surface of the table, which is then levitated. Weight of
table is 
transmitted to this Y-matter, and from the latter to the X-matter
of the body of 
structure. The mechanical stress is transmitted along the X-matter
right into 
the body of the medium. At the place where the structure enters the
body of the 
medium, no stress of any kind is transmitted to her flesh, because,
at this 
particular place, we have X-matter and ordinary physical matter in 
juxtaposition, and stress cannot be directly transmitted from the
former to the 
latter. Within the interstices of the medium’s body the X-matter
of the psychic 
structure probably ramifies, and each ramification at its extremity
becomes 
Y-matter, and this Y-matter is attached to various interior
portions of the 
medium’s body, which thus finally and indirectly take the weight of
the table, 
(p. .)
   
the raps
   
Similar observations and methods of weighing showed that the weight
of the 
medium began to diminish just before light raps were heard. Soon
afterwards the 
weight began to decrease in successive fluxes of 2 to 5 lbs. When
a loud blow 
was given the weight would diminish as much as 20 lbs., and then in
the course 
of six or seven seconds it would come nearly back to what it was
before. 
Numerous observations led to the following conclusions:
.                                                                         
From various parts of the body of the medium psychic semi-flexible
rods are 
projected, the end portions of which, being struck sharply on the
floor, table, 
chair, or other body, cause the sharp sounds known generally as
raps.
   
These rods have apparently all the characteristics of solid bodies;
they are 
more or less flexible, and can be varied in length and diameter.
Several of the 
smaller rods, or one of the largest size, may project from the medium
at any one 
time. Each one, especially near its extremity, is more or less
rigid, and the 
rigidity can be varied within limits depending upon conditions of
light, the 
psychic energy available, and so forth. The rigidity is probably
ultimately 
brought about by some kind of molecular action concerning which we
are as yet 
perfectly ignorant — the kind of action that produces the same
effect on the 
cantilever. (p. 193, R. P. P.)
   
In Experiments in Psychical Science (p. 16), the operators’ own
account as to 
how the raps are produced in two ways is given as follows:
   
Soft raps, bounding-ball imitation, etc. — by beating the side of
the rod on the 
floor, as one uses a stick for beating a carpet.
.                                                   
                     
Hard raps—by beating the rod on the floor more or less axially.
   
Dr. Crawford says that while he was obtaining this explanation the
operators 
illustrated the various styles of raps under consideration by
actually rapping 
on the floor. When he asked them what were the approximate
dimensions of a rod 
used to give a fairly hard blow, they gave a sample blow on the
floor and told 
him that the rod used was about 2 inches in diameter and of uniform
thickness 
until just before entering the body of the medium, where it
increased to about 3 
inches. They also said that the same rod could be used to make a
variety of 
raps: light taps, as though a lead pencil were striking the floor,
the bouncing 
ball imitations, and also hard blows.
 
   
type writing
   
The Reality of Psychic Phenomena (p. 201) describes an experimental
attempt at 
typewriting, on a very old Bar-Lock machine. The keys were struck
lightly and 
rapidly as though a pair of hands was playing over them, but they
became jammed 
as though several had been struck simultaneously. Dr. Crawford then
explained to 
the operators that they must strike each key separately and allow
time for its 
return before striking another. The advice was followed by the
operators, who, 
however, succeeding in writing only the following:
   
mbx: gcsq'
   
Dr. Crawford remarks that the experiment is chiefly interesting as
showing that 
the keys can be struck with just the force necessary to produce the
correct 
result. He adds that the letters on the keys were in some cases
much worn, so 
that perhaps the operators found some difficulty in reading them.
   
A more successful attempt at typewriting was made at one of the
sittings of Mr. 
Franek Kluski, and is recorded in Dr. Greley’s book Clairvoyance
and 
Materialization (p. 269). The seance was one of those intended for
the 
production of paraffin moulds of materialized hands, of which we
will give an 
account in a later chapter. Splashing was heard in the paraffin and
the hands 
were seen by Mr. Broniewski and Prince Lubomirski above the tank,
and at the 
same time a typewriter which was on the table, fully illuminated by
red light, 
began to write. The keys were operated quickly, as by a skilful
typist. There 
was no one near the machine, but the persons holding Mr. Kluski’s
hands observed 
that the reaction was upon him, for they twitched during the
writing. The typed 
words were: “Je suis le sourire de 1’équilibre; mon poème d’amour
et de vie 
emplit les siècles.”
 
   
impressions in clay
.                                                                        
A 
large number of Dr. Crawford’s experiments were performed by
requesting the 
operators to press the ends of rods into basins or trays of clay or
other 
substance which would take the mould, which were placed under the
table. 
Although the ankles of the medium were securely fastened in various
ways, and 
the feet and legs of the other sitters were also tied so that they
could not get 
within 18 in. of the clay, quite frequently, at first somewhat to
the surprise 
of the investigators, many of the impressions were found to be
lined with what 
resembled stocking marks, while others seemed similar to
impressions which might 
be made with the sole of boot or shoe. All these were examined most
carefully, 
the conclusion being that the forms which resembled the marks of
the sole of a 
shoe could not possibly have been so made, but were due to the
elastic 
distortion of the ends of psychic rods, which have the following
peculiarities:
.                                                                        
When the free end of the psychic rod is flat it can press on
material substances 
and grip them by adhesion.
.                                                 
                       The 
gripping action is a true suction, being due to a difference of air
pressure, 
the air being squeezed out from the space between the flat end of
the rod and 
the body which it is contacting.
   
In order to produce this suction effect, the end of the rod is
covered with what 
appears to be a thin, pliable skin. As a matter of fact the end of
one of these 
large flat-ended rods often feels soft and plasm-like to the touch.
The very 
finely divided, crater-like appearance of most of the suction marks
also shows 
decisively that the suction end of such rods must possess a soft,
pliable 
surface. (P.S., pp. 39-.)
   
The concave impressions varied in size from the mark one could make
with one’s 
little finger to a size of 4 or 5 sq. in., but the largest was less
than half 
the size of the largest flat marks. Their peculiarity was that most
of them had 
the imprint of stocking fabric. This was the usual effect, but on
request to the 
operator they could also be made quite smooth (p. 53). The
impression is, 
however, altogether sharper than anything that can actually be made
with a 
stockinged foot, for in the latter case there is a dull, blunt
outline owing to 
the foot behind the stocking exerting a squeezing effect, no matter
how lightly 
it may be applied. But the psychic impression has little raised
edges projecting 
upwards from the impression left by each thread.
   
The reason why this impression should appear is given as follows.
The actual 
psychic structure is covered by a film which is formed against the
medium’s 
feet out of psychic matter oozing round about the little holes in
the fabric of 
her stockings. It is at first in a semi-liquid state, and it
collects and partly 
sets on the outer covering of the stocking, and being of a
glutinous, fibrous 
nature, it takes almost the exact form of the stocking fabric. It
is pulled off 
the stocking by the operators and then built round the end of the
psychic rod. 
The large flat impressions, which involve heavy pulls and pushes,
have this 
surface further thickened and strengthened by the application of
additional 
materialized matter, which wholly or partly covers the impression
of the 
stocking (pp. 56-7).
 
   
transportation of clay
   
It was soon observed that some of the clay was carried back when
the material 
returned to the medium, and streaks were found upon and within her
shoes and 
stockings, and on the floor between the medium and the bowl of
clay. In a few 
cases, when a sitter felt that he or she had been touched by the
rod, marks were 
also found upon them. All this led Dr. Crawford to try to discover
where the 
structures emerged from the medium. On page 71 he says that the
floor all round 
the medium’s shoes was covered with patches of clay, but where her
feet rested 
on the floor it was clean, which proved that they could not have
moved. The clay 
had been deposited on the edge of the sole of the shoes and in the
slight clear 
space between the edge of the sole and the floor, but had not been
able to 
penetrate where the sole was in actual contact with the floor. It
was apparent 
that the material had then moved up the shoe and gone into it
through the 
lace-holes and over the top, and there were generally particles of
clay on the 
flat of the shoes inside, wherever parts of the foot of the medium
were not 
pressing tightly on the leather. It had also been noticed that
there were 
sometimes peculiar rustling noises in the neighbourhood of the
medium’s feet and 
ankles just prior to the phenomena, and that these were probably
due to psychic 
stuff being sent in fluxes down the material of the stocking. There
were also 
slight flapping noises on the floor as the material was brought out
and placed 
there (p. 81).
 
   
the path op the teleplasm
   
These observations led Dr. Crawford to experiment extensively with
various 
powders and colouring matters, in order to trace the path of the
material. These 
investigations are recorded at length in Psychic Structures. I will
here give 
only one or two examples. The following is an account of experiment
Z (p. 128):
.                                                                        
The 
medium had her feet on a specially modified electrical apparatus.
She had her 
feet in the seance shoes and wore white stockings. The operators
could be heard 
working away at the legs of the medium. After about twenty minutes
they said 
they wished to deliver a message. This was taken by means of the
alphabet and 
was to the effect that the white colour of the medium’s stockings
was affecting 
the plasma, and that it would be necessary for her to change into
black ones. 
This was done, and phenomena soon commenced. A dish containing
flour was placed 
well beyond the reach of the medium on the floor, and the operators
pushed their 
psychic structures into it. At the end of the seance the shoes and
stockings 
were examined.
   
Result: Only the right shoe and stocking were affected by the
flour. On this 
stocking there was a large flour-mark right across the interior
side, just above 
the shoe, and there were marks and smudges on the stocking below
the level of 
the shoe to the sole. The magnifying glass showed that the whole
sole was 
covered with flour particles from end to end, and there were
particles at the 
toes.
.                                                                        
There was flour all up the front and over the laces of the right
shoe, as though 
the plasma had retreated along the floor, up the front of the shoe
to the ankle 
of the medium on the interior side, and then down between the
stocking and the 
shoes to the sole of the foot. Also there were small particles of
flour right to 
the top of the stocking.
   
In experiment CC gold paint was used:
.                            
                                            
Medium had on shoes treated with gold paint, as in the previous
seance. At the 
end many gold particles were found on one stocking along the sole
to the heel 
and up over the heel. Also many particles were found on the
stocking fabric to 
the very top of the stocking. A close inspection showed that there
was a regular 
stream of gold particles right up both stockings to the top, this
stream being 
most prominent about the region of the knees.
   
Dr. Crawford’s conclusions from these experiments are given on
pages 133-4 as 
follows:
.                                                                        
The 
data given above concerning the movement of powdered substances,
such as carmine 
or flour, from the interior of the shoes of the medium up the sides
of her shoes 
and up her stockings can only lead to one conclusion. The plasma
must get into 
the medium’s shoes in some manner or other. It either originates in
her feet and 
makes its way to the outside by coming up between her shoes and her
stockings, 
or it goes into her shoes first, accomplishes some process there,
and then comes 
out again. It usually issues round the sides of the shoes, up from
the middle of 
the sole of the foot, where the contact between shoe and stocking
is slight, 
although usually there is also a considerable movement up the back
of the heel. 
As I have already indicated, this outward and inward movement of
the plasma 
occurs even if the medium’s feet are laced up in long boots.
   
In many of the experiments already described, as well as a
well-defined carmine 
path from the feet, there were visible distinct traces of carmine
up the 
stockings as far as the knees, and even up to the top of the
stockings. Usually 
these carmine paths were thickest and most plainly visible round
about the ball 
of the calves at the back, and usually there was more carmine on
the stockings 
between the legs than on the outside. The question then arose as to
whether 
there was a flow of plasma from the medium’s body down the legs, as
well as the 
flow from the feet upwards, or, indeed, whether the whole of the
plasma did not 
come from the trunk of the medium, flow down the legs and then, in
some peculiar 
manner and for some particular reason connected with the building
up of the 
psychic structures, enter her shoes and fill up the space between
stockings and 
leather. For, after all, it has to be remembered that our feet and
legs are 
only pieces of apparatus to enable us to move about, analogous to
the wheels of 
a cart, and that the great centres of nervous energy and reproductive
activity 
are within the body proper.
   
Further experiments were performed in order to discover whether the
plasma 
issues from the lower part of the trunk as well as returns by it.
The following 
is one such experiment, with the investigator’s conclusions:
.                                                                        
A 
little slightly damp carmine was carefully rubbed on the inside of
the legs of 
the knickers some inches up, and the medium put the knickers on
very carefully. 
At the end of the seance it was found that the carmine had traced
paths right 
down the legs of the knickers, had spread out round the embroidery
at the edge, 
had gone on the stockings, made paths right down the stockings,
mostly along the 
ball of the leg, and had even gone into the shoes, which were clean
ones.
   
Therefore it is certain that plasma issues from the trunk as well
as returns 
thereby.
   
The quantity of plasma must be considerable, for the carmine had
spread round 
the medium’s legs right to the posterior, and in between the legs
to the base of 
the backbone; i.e. the plasma had at one time or another during
the seance 
occupied practically all the space which did not make close contact
with her 
chair. This result suggests that during interruptions in phenomena,
or when 
light is temporarily lit during a seance, the plasma conceals
itself round about 
the top of the medium’s legs under her clothing, and does not
necessarily all 
return to her body. If it always went back into her body, a
considerable time 
would have to elapse between each burst of phenomena, but this does
not usually 
occur. So long as the plasma is away from the temporary disturbing
influence, 
such as rays of light, the purpose of the operators is served
(pp.136-7).
 
   
the photographs
   
At last came the time when it became possible to take photographs.
This could 
only be done after a careful study of the effect of the phenomena
upon the 
medium. Dr. Crawford had observed (p. 146) that when the medium was
sitting on 
her chair in the ordinary way, and he placed his hands upon her
haunches, and 
the development of psychic action was going on, parts of the flesh
seemed to 
cave in. Then, as the psychic material came back, little round
lumps could be 
felt filling in on the back of the thighs and on the interior of
the thighs.
   
For about a year Dr. Crawford took one photograph each seance
night, in the 
hope that he might ultimately obtain success. The operators had informed
him by 
raps that he might finally expect this, though he had to take care
to prevent 
injury to the medium, as it was necessary gradually to work her up
to withstand 
the shock of the flashlight upon the plasma. He found that the
pulse of the 
medium, which was 84 at the beginning, rose to 120 just before the
flash (while 
the operators were endeavouring to exteriorize a psychic structure
fit to be 
photographed) and then went back to normal gradually, Observation
showed that 
generally during all kinds of phenomena the pulse of the medium
rose, the palms 
of the hands became a little moist and the fingers cool, but
neither temperature 
nor respiration seemed to be affected to any degree. (p. 143).
   
Ultimately, as we have already said, he succeeded in his
photography. As Dr. 
Crawford puts it:
.                                                                        
After innumerable attempts, however, very small patches of plasma
were obtained 
in full view between the medium’s ankles. As time went on these
increased in 
size and variety until great quantities of this psychic material
could be 
exteriorized and photographed. Then the operators began to
manipulate it in 
various ways, building it up into columns, or forming it into
single or double 
arms, moulding it into the different shapes with which I had been
long familiar 
in a general way from previous investigation. Not only did they do
this, but 
they showed unmistakably, by means of set photographs, from what
part of the 
medium’s body the plasma issued, and by means of ingenious
arrangements devised 
by themselves brought out many of its properties. (p. 148).
 
   
the direct voice
   
Dr. Crawford also describes, in Experiments in Psychical Science,
his 
experiments in direct voice phenomena in his own house with a
medium known as 
Mrs. Z. He sat her upon a weighing machine with the weight
balanced, while two 
trumpets were placed upright on the floor within the circle. After
about fifteen 
minutes the lever of the machine fell lightly on the bottom stop,
which 
indicated that her weight was decreasing, and he found that this
decrease 
amounted to about 21/2 lbs. Then suddenly a voice called out from
somewhere near 
the roof within the circle “Weigh me” and a trumpet dropped to the
floor, while 
the medium’s weight immediately returned to its original value.
Fifteen minutes 
later the same thing happened again, the same words were heard, a
trumpet 
dropped and the same weight was recorded.
   
Although these phenomena took place in the dark, and the weighing
was merely 
felt by Dr. Crawford, it was quite impossible for the medium to
have done 
anything but sit quite still. She weighed nearly 20 stone, and her
slightest 
movement would have been detected, while her lifting anything would
have 
increased, not decreased the weight. Dr. Crawford asked the control
if he had 
been weighing her or the trumpet, but she did not seem to know.
   
In a later experiment (p. 184) Dr. Crawford arranged to record the
direct voice 
on a phonographic cylinder. He asked the control to bring the
mouth of the 
trumpet up to the horn of the phonograph, and when she said that
she was ready, 
requested her to begin to speak as soon as she heard the buzzing of
the machine. 
Dr. Crawford then says:
   
The cylinder had made only a few revolutions when the control
commenced to sing 
a song into the horn. This song was three verses in length, and at
the end of 
each verse she interjected remarks such as “How’s that?” etc. I
told her to sing 
a little louder, and during the third verse she sang quite loudly.
.                                                     
                   I 
plainly felt the movement of the air just at the mouth of the
phonograph horn as 
the song was being sung, which would seem to indicate that the end
of the 
trumpet was moving to and fro at the spot. Moreover, the control’s
voice 
emanated from a position just at the mouth of the horn. I did not
attempt to 
touch the trumpet, as I knew from experience that if I did so it
would be likely 
to drop. If an end of the trumpet was thus at the mouth of the
phonograph horn 
as it appeared to be, the nearest distance of the other end of the
trumpet from 
the medium must have been well over four feet. At the conclusion of
the song, 
and after I had stopped the instrument, I asked the sitters on
either side of 
the medium if they still had hold of her hands, and they replied in
the 
affirmative. These sitters afterwards told me that during the
taking of the 
record the medium’s hands were vibrating rapidly, as though they
were under 
great nervous stress. (pp. 184-5).
   
As to these records, Dr. Crawford says that there is in them
internal evidence 
that the voice must have been speaking close to the horn of the
phonograph and 
not from some distance away. He adds that it is well known among
people who are 
continually making records that if the voice speaks too close into
the horn a 
kind of tinny, metallic sound is produced, which phonographic manufacturers
call “blasting”. In several places in the two records of the
control’s voice 
this “blasting” is heard, indicating that the voice must have been
very close 
to, if not within, the horn of the phonograph.
 
-------Cardiff Theosophical Society in Wales-------
206 Newport Road, Cardiff, Wales, UK. CF24-1DL                                                         
              
                                                                        
Chapter VIII
.                                                                        
MISCELLANEOUS PHENOMENA
   
precipitation
   
I have already mentioned in connection with the phenomenal
production of 
paintings or writings that there is another method by which this
may be done, 
more rapid and efficient, but requiring greater knowledge of the
possibilities 
of the astral plane. This method is usually described as
precipitation, and 
broadly speaking its modus operandi is as follows: The man wishing
to write or 
paint takes a sheet of paper, forms a clear mental image of the
writing or the 
picture, distinct down to the minutest detail, and then by ah
effort of will 
objectifies that image and throws it upon the paper, so that the
whole picture 
or the whole sheet of writing appears instantaneously. It will be
seen at once 
that this demands far greater power and fuller command of resources
than is 
likely to be possessed by the ordinary man, either before or after
his death; 
but just as those who have been trained along that line are capable
of producing 
such a result while still in the physical body, so there are a few
among the 
dead who have learnt how such powers may be exercised.
   
I have seen cases in which the writing was precipitated not all at
once but by 
degrees, so that it appeared upon the paper in successive words,
just as it 
would have done if written in the ordinary way, except that this
process was 
much more rapid than any writing could ever be. In the same way I
have seen a 
picture form itself slowly, beginning at one side and passing
steadily across to 
the other, the effect being just as though a sheet of paper which
had concealed 
it was slowly drawn off from an already existing picture.
   
Some persons in performing this feat require to have their
materials provided 
for them; that is to say, if they have to write a letter, the
writing material — 
ink or coloured chalk — must be by their side, or if they have to
precipitate a 
picture the colours must be there either in powder or already
moistened. In this 
case the operator simply disintegrates as much of the material as
he requires, 
and transfers it to the surface of his paper. A more accomplished
performer, 
however, can gather together such material as he needs from the
surrounding 
ether; that is to say, he is practically able to create his
materials, and so 
can sometimes produce results which cannot readily be imitated by
any means at 
our disposal upon the physical plane.
   
In Photographing the Invisible (pp. 301-3), Dr. J. Coates quotes an
experience, 
recounted by Vice-Admiral W. Usborne Moore, relating to the
precipitation of a 
portrait, which presents a good example of the process often
employed:
.                                                                        
The 
next day a portrait was precipitated on to a Steinbach canvas
within two feet of 
me. The Bangs sisters each held one side of the canvas, which was
put up against 
the window, while I sat between them and watched the face and form
gradually 
appear. A few minutes after they began to appear, the psychics
(apparently under 
impression) lowered the canvas toward me until it touched my
breast. Mary Bangs 
then got a message by Morse alphabet on the table: “Your wife is
more accustomed 
to see me in the other aspect.” Up went the canvas again, and I saw
the profile 
and bust, but turned round in the opposite direction; instead of
the face 
looking to the right, it was looking to the left. The portrait then
proceeded 
apace, until all the details were filled in, and in twenty-five
minutes it was 
practically finished. Beyond a little deepening of the colour, and
touches here 
and there by the invisible artist, the picture is the same now as
when we arose 
from the table. The precipitated portrait is very much like a
photograph of the 
person, taken thirty-five years ago (shortly before death), that I
had in my 
pocket during the sitting, which the Bangs, of course, had never
seen. The 
expression of the face, however, is far more ethereal and satisfied
than in the 
photograph.
.                                                                    
    
These instances are but two out of many manifestations I witnessed
at the Bangs 
sisters’ house.
   
The Admiral refers as follows to a full-length portrait which he
obtained in the 
same way:
.                                                        
                On 
this occasion the canvases arrived from the shop wet, and we had to
wait half an 
hour for them to dry. The next day I went to the shop and
complained. The woman 
who attended said: “The boy who brought your order said you wanted
stretched 
canvases. When he came to take them away, we found he wanted the
paper as well, 
so we put it on at once, and of course they left the shop wet.” I
relate this 
little incident for the benefit of those who vainly imagine that
the phenomenon 
of precipitation may be due to normal causes.
   
Mr. G. Subba Rau, editor of the West Coast Spectator, Calicut,
India, gives an 
account (p. 317) of the manner in which he received a precipitated
portrait of 
his deceased wife, her photograph being in his pocket without the
knowledge of 
the mediums. Although somewhat incredulous as to the powers of the
Bangs 
sisters, he arranged to have a sitting with them. He mentions that
the sisters 
stated that they saw “apparently a life-size image of the
photograph I had with 
me, and described it correctly in the details. For instance, they
saw that I 
sat, that my wife stood behind, with her hand on my shoulder; that
her face was 
round; that she wore a peculiar jewel on the nose and that her hair
was parted; 
that a dog lay at my feet, and so on.” As to the precipitation of
the picture, 
he adds (p. 318):
   
They asked me to pick out any two canvas stretchers that lay
against the wall, 
adding that I might bring my own stretchers if I liked. I took out
two which 
were very clean and set them on the table against the glass window.
I sat 
opposite, and the two sisters on either side. Gradually I saw a
cloudy 
appearance on the canvas; in a few moments it cleared into a bright
face, the 
eyes formed themselves and opened rather suddenly, and I beheld
what seemed a 
copy of my wife’s face in the photograph. The figure on the canvas
faded away 
once or twice, to reappear with clearer outline; and round the
shoulder was 
formed a loose white robe. The whole seemed a remarkable enlargement
of the 
face in the photograph. The photograph had been taken some three or
four years 
before her death, and it was noteworthy that the merely accidental
details that 
entered into it should now appear on the canvas. For instance, the
nose ornament 
already referred to, she had not usually worn. Some ornaments were
clumsily 
reproduced. One that she had always worn, which was not distinctly
visible in 
the photograph, was omitted on the canvas. I pointed out these
blemishes, and as 
the result, when I saw the portrait next day, all the ornaments had
disappeared. 
I was satisfied that the portrait had been precipitated by some
supernormal 
agency. As soon as the portrait was finished, I touched a corner of
the canvas 
with my finger, and greyish substance came off. The portrait is
still in my 
possession, and it looks as fresh as ever. It was all done in
twenty-five 
minutes.
   
The same volume contains several chapters dealing with psychographs,
especially 
written messages impressed on photographic plates which have never
been exposed. 
For example, the Ven. Archdeacon Colley, Rector of Stockton,
delivered an Easter 
sermon on Sunday evening, 3rd April, 1910, in the parish church.
This sermon was 
found written on a half-plate which had been sealed up in a
light-proof packet, 
and held between the hands of six persons for thirty-nine seconds
only. Under 
these circumstances 1710 words were written in eighty-four lines
within the 
small compass of the half-plate. The Archdeacon says (p. 378):
   
The smallness of the copper-plate-like writing readers it
impossible to be 
reproduced by any engraving; while at times, with our greatly
esteemed unpaid 
mediums in various circles, the writing on our usual quarter-plates
is so 
microscopic, that to enable us to read it a higher power lens is
necessary; and 
the character of the calligraphy in English, archaic Greek, Latin,
Hebrew, 
Italian, French, Arabic, varies continually in our several
separate, devotional, 
and private gatherings, in places from twenty-four to seventy-seven
miles apart.
   
Proofs of the Truth of Spiritualism, by the Rev. Prof. G. Henslow,
also contains 
illustrations and descriptions of many remarkable psychographs (pp.
187 et seq.)
   
The next point for our consideration is the question of what are
called “spirit 
lights,” that is to say the different varieties of illumination
which are 
produced at a seance by the non-physical participators therein. Sir
William 
Crookes gives a comprehensive catalogue of these on p. 91 of his
book before 
quoted:
 
   
various kinds of lights
.                                                                        
Under the strictest test conditions I have seen a solid
self-luminous body, the 
size and nearly the shape of a turkey’s egg, float noiselessly
about the room, 
at one time higher than any one present could reach standing on
tip-toe, and 
then gently descend to the floor. It was visible for more than ten
minutes; and 
before it faded away it struck the table three times, with a sound
like that of 
a hard solid body. During this time the medium was lying back,
apparently 
insensible, in an easy chair.
.                                                                         I
have seen luminous points of light darting about and settling on
the heads of 
different persons; I have had questions answered by the flashing of
a bright 
light a desired number of times in front of my face. I have seen
sparks of light 
rising from the table to the ceiling, and again falling upon the
table, striking 
it with an audible sound. I have had an alphabetic communication
given by a 
luminous cloud floating upwards to a picture. Under the strictest
test 
conditions, I have more than once had a solid, self-luminous,
crystalline body 
placed in my hand by a hand which did not belong to any person in
the room. In 
the light, I have seen a luminous cloud hover over a heliotrope on
a side-table, 
break a sprig off, and carry the sprig to a lady; and on some
occasions I have 
seen a similar luminous cloud visibly condense to the form of a
hand, and carry 
small objects about.
   
I have already described the three varieties of lights which showed
themselves 
to me during my preliminary home experiments without a recognized
medium; and 
though I have seen many such lights since, they have been almost
all of the same 
general character as those. On several occasions, however, I have
seen a light 
much brighter than any of those, apparently of an electrical
character, capable 
of fully lighting up the room, and in one case of blinding
brilliance. This 
latter manifestation is rare at a seance, as, for reasons
previously described, 
it would break up any partial materializations which might be
necessary for the 
production of other phenomena.
   
Another interesting power at the command of experimenters on the
astral plane is 
that of disintegration and of reintegration, to which we have
already referred 
when speaking of precipitation. This is simply the process of
reducing any 
object to an impalpable powder — in fact, into an etheric or even
atomic 
condition. This may be brought about by the action of extremely
rapid vibration, 
which overcomes the cohesion of the molecules of the object. A
still higher rate 
of vibration, perhaps of a somewhat different type, will further
separate these 
molecules into their constituent atoms. A body thus reduced to the
etheric or 
atomic condition can be moved with great rapidity from one place to
another; and 
the moment that the force which had been exerted to bring it into
that condition 
is withdrawn, it will at once resume its original state.
 
   
How foRm Is retained
   
To answer an obvious objection which will at once occur to the mind
of the 
reader I may be allowed to quote once more a few sentences from The
Astral 
Plane.
   
Students often at first find it difficult to understand how in such
an 
experiment the shape of the article can be preserved. It has been
remarked that 
if any metallic object — say, for example, a key — be melted and
raised to a 
vaporous state by heat, when the heat is withdrawn it will
certainly return to 
the solid state, but it will no longer be a key, but merely a lump
of metal. The 
point is well taken, though as a matter of fact the apparent
analogy does not 
hold good. The elemental essence which informs the key would be
dissipated by 
the alteration in its condition — not that the essence itself can
be affected by 
the action of heat, but that when its temporary body is destroyed
(as a solid) 
it pours back into the great reservoir of such essence, much as the
higher 
principles of a man, though entirely unaffected by heat or cold,
are yet forced 
out of a physical body when it is destroyed by fire.
   
Consequently, when what had been the key cooled down into the solid
condition 
again, the elemental essence (of the “earth” or solid class) which
poured back 
into it would not be in any way the same as that which it contained
before, and 
there would be no reason why the same shape should be retained. But
a man who 
disintegrated a key for the purpose of removing it by astral
currents from one 
place to another would be careful to hold the same elemental
essence in exactly 
the same shape until the transfer was completed, and then when his
will-force 
was removed it would act as a mould into which the solidifying
particles would 
now, or rather round which they would be re-aggregated. Thus,
unless the 
operator’s power of concentration failed, the shape would be
accurately 
preserved.
   
It is in this way that objects are sometimes brought almost
instantaneously from 
great distances at spiritualistic seances, and it is obvious that
when 
disintegrated they could be passed with perfect ease through any
solid 
substance, such, for example, as the wall of a house or the side
of a locked 
box, so that what is commonly called “the passage of matter through
matter” is 
seen, when properly understood, to be as simple as the passage of
water through 
a sieve, or of a gas through a liquid in some chemical experiment.
.                                                                        
Since it is possible by an alteration of vibrations to change
matter from the 
solid to the etheric condition, it will be comprehended that it is
also possible 
to reverse the process and to bring etheric matter into the solid
state. As the 
one process explains the phenomenon of disintegration, so does the
other that of 
materialization; and just as in the former case a continued effort
of will is 
necessary to prevent the object from resuming its original state,
so in exactly 
the same way in the latter phenomenon a continued effort is
necessary to prevent 
the materialized matter from relapsing into the etheric condition.
 
   
OBJECTS BROUGHT FROM A DISTANCE
   
The apport of objects from some other room, or sometimes from a far
greater 
distance, is one of the most favourite methods by which the dead
men managing a 
seance elect to manifest their especially astral powers. Sir
William Crookes, on 
p. 97 of the book which I have so often quoted, tells us how at a
seance with 
Miss Kate Fox the controlling entities announced that “they were
going to bring 
something to show their power,” and then brought into the room a
small hand-bell 
from the library, the door between being carefully locked, and the
key in Sir 
William’s pocket.
   
I have myself frequently had all sorts of small objects brought to
me from a 
distance — flowers and fruit being among the most common. In some
cases tropical 
flowers and fruit, obviously perfectly fresh, have been thus
presented to me in 
England. When interrogated as to whence these things came, the
controlling 
entities have always most emphatically asserted that they were not
permitted to 
steal any person’s property in this way, but had to search for
their flowers and 
fruits where they grew wild. I have had a rare fern and a rare
orchid brought to 
me in this way — thrown down upon the table with the fresh earth
still clinging 
to their roots. I was able to plant both of them afterwards in my
garden, where 
they took root and grew in the most natural manner.
   
The best stories that I know of the bringing of plants to a seance
are contained 
in Madame d’Espérance’s book Shadowland. The first is quoted from
p. . (It 
should be premised that “Yolande” is the name given to a
materialized “spirit” 
who took a prominent part in all the seances of Madame
d’Espérance.)
.                                                                        
Yolande crossed the room to where Mr. Reimers (a gentleman well
known throughout 
Europe as a prominent spiritualist) sat, and beckoned him to go
nearer the 
cabinet and witness some preparations she was about to make. Here
it is as well 
to say that on previous occasions when Yolande had produced flowers
for us, she 
had given us to understand that sand and water were necessary for
the purpose; 
consequently a supply of fine clean white sand and plenty of water
were kept in 
readiness for possible contingencies. When Yolande, accompanied by
Mr. Reimers, 
came to the centre of the circle, she signified her wish for sand
and water, 
and, making Mr. R. kneel down on the floor beside her, she directed
him to pour 
sand into the water-carafe, which he did until it was about half
full. Then he 
was instructed to pour in water. This was done, and then by her
direction he 
shook it well and handed it back to her.
   
Yolande, after scrutinizing it carefully, placed it on the floor,
covering it 
lightly with the drapery which she took from her shoulders. She
then retired to 
the cabinet, from which she returned once or twice at short
intervals, as though 
to see how it was getting on.
   
In the meantime Mr. Armstrong had carried away, the superfluous
water and sand, 
leaving the carafe standing in the middle of the floor covered by
the thin veil, 
which, however, did not in the least conceal its shape, the ring or
top edge 
being especially visible.
   
We were directed by raps on the floor to sing, in order to
harmonize our 
thoughts, and to take off the edge, as it were, of the curiosity we
were all 
more or less feeling.
   
While we were singing we observed the drapery to be rising from the
rim of the 
carafe. This was perfectly patent to every one of the twenty
witnesses watching 
it closely.
   
Yolande came out again from the cabinet and regarded it anxiously.
She appeared 
to examine it carefully, and partially supported the drapery as
though afraid of 
its crushing some tender object underneath. Finally she raised it
altogether, 
exposing to our astonished gaze a perfect plant, of what appeared
to be a kind 
of laurel.
   
Yolande raised the carafe, in which the plant seemed to have firmly
grown; its 
roots, visible through the glass being closely packed in the sand.
   
She regarded it with evident pride and pleasure, and, carrying it
in both her 
hands, crossed the room and presented it to Mr. Oxley, one of the
strangers who 
were present — the Mr. Oxley who is so well known by his
philosophical writings 
on spiritual subjects, and the pyramids of Egypt.
   
He received the carafe with the plant, and Yolande retired as
though she had 
completed her task. After examining the plant Mr. Oxley, for
convenience sake, 
placed it on the floor beside him, there being no table near at
hand. Many 
questions were asked and curiosity ran high. The plant resembled a
large-leafed 
laurel with dark glossy leaves, but without any blossom. No one
present 
recognized the plant or could assign it to any known species.
   
We were called to order by raps, and were told not to discuss the
matter, but to 
sing something and then be quiet. We obeyed the command, and after
singing, more 
raps told us to examine the plant anew, which we were delighted to
do. To our 
great surprise we then observed that a large circular head of
bloom, forming a 
flower fully five inches in diameter, had opened itself, while
standing on the 
floor at Mr. Oxley’s feet.
   
The flower was of a beautiful orange-pink colour, or perhaps I
might say that 
salmon-colour would be a nearer description, for I have never seen
the same 
tints, and it is difficult to describe shades of colour in words.
   
The head was composed of some hundred and fifty four-star corollas
projecting 
considerably from the stem. The plant was twenty-two inches in
height, having a 
thick woody stem which filled the neck of the water-carafe. It had
twenty-nine 
leaves, averaging from two to two and a half inches in breadth, and
seven and a 
half inches at their greatest length. Each leaf was smooth and
glossy, 
resembling at the first glance the laurel which we had first
supposed it to be. 
The fibrous roots appeared to be growing naturally in the sand.
.                                                                        
We 
afterwards photographed the plant in the water-bottle, from which,
by the way, 
it was found impossible to remove it, the neck being much too small
to allow the 
roots to pass; indeed, the comparatively slender stem entirely
filled the 
orifice.
   
The name, we learnt, was Ixora Crocata, and the plant a native of
India.
   
How did the plant come there? Did it grow in the bottle? Had it
been brought 
from India in a dematerialized state and rematerialized in the
seance-room?
   
These were questions which we put to one another without result. We
received no 
satisfactory explanation. Yolande either could not or would not
tell us. As far 
as we could judge — and the opinion of a professional gardener
corroborated our 
own — the plant had evidently some years of growth.
   
We could see where other leaves had grown and fallen off, and
wound-marks which 
seemed to have healed and grown over long ago. But there was every
evidence to 
show that the plant had grown in the sand in the bottle, as the
roots were 
naturally wound around the inner surface of the glass, all the
fibres perfect 
and unbroken as though they had germinated on the spot and had
apparently never 
been disturbed. It had not been thrust into the bottle, for the
simple reason 
that it was impossible to pass the large fibrous roots and lower
part of the 
stem through the neck of the bottle, which had to be broken to take
out the 
plant.
   
Mr. Oxley, in his account, which was afterwards published, says:
   
I had the plant photographed next morning, and afterwards brought
it home and 
placed it in my conservatory under the gardener’s care. It lived
for three 
months, when it shrivelled up. I kept the leaves, giving most of
them away 
except the flower and the three top-leaves which the gardener cut
off when he 
took charge of the plant; these I have yet preserved under glass,
but they show 
no signs of dematerializing as yet. Previous to the creation or
materialization 
of this wonderful plant, the Ixora Crocata, Yolande brought me a
rose with a 
short stem not more than an inch long, which I put into my bosom.
Feeling 
something was transpiring, I drew it out and found there were two
roses. I then 
replaced them, and withdrawing them at the conclusion of the
meeting, to my 
astonishment the stem had elongated to seven inches, with three
full-blown roses 
and a bud upon it, with several thorns. These I brought home and
kept till they 
faded, the leaves dropped off and the stem dried up, a proof of
their 
materiality and actuality.
   
We gather from further statements that this interesting present was
made to Mr. 
Oxley in fulfilment of a promise, for it seems that he was making a
collection 
of plants in order to demonstrate some theory, for which he needed
a specimen of 
this particular kind, but had been unable to obtain it by any ordinary
method. 
The remarkable point about the arrival of this plant is its gradual
appearance. 
It is not brought as a whole and thrown down upon the table, as my
fern was, but 
it is seen to be slowly increasing under the drapery, precisely as
though it 
were really growing at a most abnormal rate; and even after it has
been 
presented to Mr. Oxley it still continues this apparent growth, for
it develops 
a flower during the singing.
   
It seems, however, evident that this apparent growth is not really
anything of 
the kind, since the plant is seen on examination to be clearly
several years 
old; so we are driven to the conclusion that the plant was, as it
were, brought 
over in sections and built up gradually. If a living plant can be
dematerialized 
and put together again without damaging it permanently, it may just
as easily be 
taken to pieces bit by bit as pulverized at one blow by a mightier
effort of 
will; indeed, one can see that the former might be the simpler
process, 
demanding less expenditure of force. It may quite conceivably not
have been 
within the power of those who were assisting Yolande to bring the
entire 
vegetable at one fell swoop, and it may therefore have been absolutely
necessary 
to make several journeys for it. It would appear that they first
arranged the 
roots in the sand, disposing them with care exactly as they had
naturally grown, 
and then gradually added the rest of the plant, bringing the flower
over later 
with dramatic effect as the crowning glory of the experiment.
   
It may be that the apparently rapid growth of the mango-tree in the
celebrated 
Indian feat of magic is managed in this same manner, by successive
acts of 
disintegration and reintegration, instead of by enormously
hastening the 
ordinary processes of development, as is usually suggested.
Clearly, as the 
author remarks, it could not have been thrust into the bottle, but
particle by 
particle had been carefully arranged in the proper place among the
damp sand. 
The operation must have been difficult and delicate, and we can
hardly wonder 
that Yolande regarded the eventual result with considerable pride.
   
Mr. Oxley seems to have regarded the plant as a temporary
materialization, and 
expected that it would disappear in due course; but it is quite
evident that it 
was definitely a case of apport, and that the gift was intended to
remain, as 
indeed it did until its death — which, however, may quite possibly
have been 
accelerated by its abrupt removal from warmer climes to the
inclement latitude 
of England. The photograph taken of the plant in the bottle is
reproduced as one 
of the illustrations in the book from which this account is
extracted. It seems 
clear that the rose to which Mr. Oxley refers must also have been
brought 
piecemeal in the same way, since it would obviously be impossible
for a cut 
flower to grow in the way which he describes.
   
In the same book, at p. 326, we find an account of a still more
wonderful 
achievement of the same nature on the part of Yolande. In this case
there is the 
additional and interesting complication that the plant was only
borrowed, and 
had to be returned.
   
Yolande, with the assistance of Mr. Aksakof, had mixed sand and
loam in the 
flower-pot, and she had covered it with her veil, as she had done
in the case of 
the water-bottle in England when the Ixora Crocata was grown.
.                                                                        
The 
white drapery was seen to rise slowly but steadily, widening out as
it grew 
higher and higher. Yolande stood by and manipulated the
gossamer-like covering 
till it reached a height far above her head, when she carefully
removed it, 
disclosing a tall plant bowed with a mass of heavy blossom, which
emitted the 
strong sweet scent of which I had complained.
   
Notes were taken of its size, and it was found to be seven feet in
length from 
root to point, or about a foot and a half taller than myself. Even
when bent by 
the weight of the eleven large blossoms it bore, it was taller than
I. The 
flowers were very perfect, measuring eight inches in diameter; five
were fully 
blown, three were just opening and three in bud, all without spot
or blemish, 
and damp with dew. It was most lovely, but somehow the scent of
lilies since 
that evening has always made me feel faint.
   
Yolande seemed very pleased with her success and told us that if we
wanted to 
photograph the lily we were to do so, as she must take it away
again. She stood 
beside it and Mr. Boutlerof photographed it and her twice.
   
The plant was a Lilium auratum, the golden-rayed lily of Japan, and
the date of 
this very interesting seance was June 28, . The photographs
mentioned are 
reproduced in the book, and show a fine specimen of the plant.
   
A curious feature of the account is that the materialized figure
Yolande became 
anxious about the affair because, having apparently borrowed this
giant lily, 
she found herself unable to return it at the proper time. The
available power 
seems to have been exhausted in the effort of bringing it, so that
when she 
tried to take it back again she failed. She appears to have been
much distressed 
at her inability to keep her promise, and begged that every care
might be taken 
of the plant. Her physical friends did all that they could for it,
but it seems 
(and no wonder) to have languished somewhat. The weather, too,
proved 
unfavourable for her purposes, and it was nearly a week before she
finally 
succeeded in restoring it to its original owner, whoever he may
have been. One 
would like to hear the other side of this story — the surprise and
regret at the 
mysterious disappearance from somebody’s garden or conservatory of
so 
magnificent a specimen, and their equal but much pleasanter astonishment
over 
its inexplicable reappearance a week later, when probably all hope
of tracing 
the thieves had been abandoned!
   
The question of the influence of weather on the production of
psychic phenomena 
is one of considerable interest. It is evident that electrical
disturbances of 
any sort present difficulties in the way of attempts at either
materialization 
or disintegration, presumably for the same reason that bright light
renders them 
almost impossible — the destructive effect of strong vibration. It
is quite 
conceivable that while the air was full of strong electrical vibrations
Yolande 
may have found it impossible safely to carry her disintegrated
vegetable matter 
from one place to another, lest it should be so shaken up and
disarranged that 
restoration to its original form might become difficult or
impracticable.
   
In many cases of the apport of objects from a distance the
fourth-dimensional 
method is obviously easiest, though in these efforts of Yolande’s
it would seem 
from the gradual growth of the plant that it was not employed. But
there are 
many instances of which it offers the neatest and readiest explanation.
There 
are nearly always several ways in which almost any phenomenon can
be produced, 
and it is often not easy to determine merely from a written account
which of 
them was actually employed in a given case.
   
Another instance either of the passage of matter through matter, or
of the 
employment of fourth-dimensional power, is given when a solid iron
ring too 
small to go over the hand is passed on to one’s wrist. This has
three times been 
done to me, and in each case I had to trust to our dead friends for
its removal, 
since it would have been quite impossible to get it off by any
physical means 
except filing. I have also again and again had the back of a chair
hung over my 
arm while I was grasping the hand of the medium. Once I watched
that process in 
a moderately good light, and though the phenomenon was quickly
performed it yet 
seemed to me that I saw part of the back of the chair fade into a
sort of mist 
as it approached my arm. But in a moment it had passed round or
through my arm 
and was again solid as ever.
   
A much rarer phenomenon at a seance, so far as my experience goes,
is that of 
reduplication. When it does occur, this is produced simply by
forming a perfect 
mental image of the object to be copied, and then gathering about
it the 
necessary astral and physical matter. For this purpose it is
needful that every 
particle, interior as well as exterior, of the object to be
duplicated should be 
held accurately in view simultaneously, and consequently the
phenomenon is one 
which requires considerable power of concentration to perform.
Persons unable to 
extract the matter required directly from the surrounding ether
have sometimes 
taken it from the material of the original article, which in this
case would be 
correspondingly reduced in weight.
 
   
A fieRy test
   
Another striking but not very common feat displayed occasionally at
a seance is 
that of handling fire unharmed. On one occasion at a seance in
London a 
materialized form deliberately put his hand into the midst of a
brightly burning 
fire, picked out a lump of red-hot coal nearly as large as a
tennis-ball, and 
held it out to me, saying quickly: “Take it in your hand.”
   
I hesitated for a moment, perhaps not unnaturally, but an impatient
movement on 
the part of the dead man decided me. I felt that he probably knew
what he was 
about, that this was perhaps a unique opportunity, and that if it
burnt me I 
could drop it before much harm was done. So I held out my hand and
the glowing 
mass was promptly deposited in my palm. I can testify that I felt
not even the 
slightest warmth from it, though when the dead man immediately took
a sheet of 
paper from the mantelpiece and applied it to the coal, the paper
blazed up in a 
moment. I held this lump of coal for a minute and a half, when, as
it was 
rapidly growing dull, he motioned to me to throw it back into the
fire. Not the 
slightest mark or redness remained upon my hand — nothing but a
little ash — nor 
was there any smell of burning.
   
Now how was this done? I could not in the least understand at the
time, and 
could get no intelligible theory out of the presiding entities. I
know now from 
later occult studies that the thinnest layer of etheric substance
can be so 
manipulated as to make it absolutely impervious to heat, and I
assume that 
probably my hand was for the moment covered with such a layer,
since that is 
perhaps the easiest way of producing the result. Be that as it may,
I can 
certify that the event occurred exactly as described.
   
It is within the resources of the astral plane to produce fire as
well as to 
counteract its effect. I have seen this done only once myself, and
then as a 
special “test” to prove that spontaneous combustion was a
possibility, but from 
the accounts given by Mr. Morell Theobald in Spirit Workers in the
Home Circle 
it would appear that with him the phenomenon was quite ordinary.
The deceased 
members of his household seem to have taken almost as great a part
in its work 
as the living members did, and to light the family fires
spontaneously was one 
of the least of their achievements. Their action in this respect
is said to 
have been paralleled on several occasions in Scotland by the
brownies, a variety 
of nature-spirits or fairies, but I have not at hand the
particulars of any case 
for quotation.
 
   
the production of fire
   
My own experience in this line was at a seance in England. We were
directed by 
raps to procure a large flat dish, place it in the middle of the
table and make 
in it a little pile of shavings and of the fragments of a cigar
box. We obeyed, 
and were then directed to turn out the lights and sing. We sat
solemnly round 
the table holding hands and singing in total darkness for what
seemed at least 
half an hour, though it may have been less than that in reality.
Towards the end 
of that time a curious dull red glow showed itself in the heart of
our 
loosely-built pile of wood, waxing and waning several times, but
eventually 
bursting into flame. It is quite certain that none of us touched
the pile or 
indeed could have touched it without the connivance of several
others, sitting 
as we were; and it is also certain that the combustion commenced in
a manner 
entirely precluding the idea of its being set in motion from
outside by a match.
   
I infer, since heat is after all simply a certain rate of
vibration, that it is 
only necessary for the astral entities to set up and maintain that
particular 
rate of vibration, and combustion must ensue; and this is most
probably what was 
done. An obvious alternative would be to introduce
fourth-dimensionally a tiny 
fragment of already glowing matter, (such as tinder, for example)
and then blow 
upon it until it burst into flame; or again, chemical combinations
which would 
produce combustion could easily be introduced. There are plenty of
stories told 
in India about the way in which spontaneous fires break out in
certain villages 
if the village deity is neglected, and does not receive his expected
offerings; 
so it is evident that the production of fire presents no
difficulty to an 
experienced entity functioning upon the astral plane.
 
-------Cardiff Theosophical Society in Wales-------
206 Newport Road, Cardiff, Wales, UK. CF24-1DL                                                                        
.                                                                        
Chapter IX
.                                                                        
VISIBLE MATERIALIZATIONS
 
   
intangible forms
   
We must consider now materializations of our second and third types
— those 
which are visible, but not tangible, and in many cases manifestly
diaphanous; 
and the full materializations, which seem in all respects
indistinguishable for 
the time from persons still in the physical body. The second type
is not 
uncommon, and though such materializations usually avoid coming
within reach of 
the sitters I was on one occasion especially asked by a direct
voice to pass my 
hand gently through a form of this nature. I can only say that my
sense of touch 
detected absolutely nothing, though a distinctly visible, but
semi-transparent 
form stood in front of me, smiling at my futile efforts. When I
closed my eyes, 
I could not tell whether my hand was inside or outside the body
which looked so 
perfect and so living. Forms of this nature are probably easier to
construct 
than the more solid kind, for I have once or twice had startling
evidence that 
one which appeared entirely solid was in reality so only in part. A
hand which 
is strong enough to give a vigorous grasp is often joined to an arm
which does 
not exist as far as the sense of touch is concerned, though appearing
to the eye 
just as solid as the hand. Materializations of this second type are
described by 
Sir William Crookes as follows, at p. 94 of his Researches.
.                                                                        
In 
the dusk of the evening during a seance with Mr. Home at my house,
the curtains 
of the window about eight feet from Mr. Home were seen to move. A
dark, shadowy, 
semi-transparent form like that of a man was then seen by all
present standing 
near the window, waving the curtain with his hand. As we looked the
form faded 
away and the curtain ceased to move. The following is a still more
striking 
instance. As in the former case Mr. Home was the medium. A phantom
form came 
from a corner of the room, took an accordion in his hand, and then
glided about 
the room placing the instrument. The form was visible to all
present for many 
minutes, Mr. Home also being seen at the same time. Coming rather
close to a 
lady who was sitting apart from the rest of the company, she gave a
slight cry, 
upon which it vanished.
 
   
mattes from the medium
   
When materialization is performed for any reason by a living person
thoroughly 
trained in the resources of the astral plane — one of the pupils of
an Adept, 
for instance — he condenses the surrounding ether into the solid
form, and 
builds in that way so much of a body as may be necessary without in
any way 
interfering with any one else. But at a seance this is not usually done,
and the 
simpler expedient is adopted of withdrawing a large amount of
matter from the 
body of the medium. This matter may under favourable conditions be
seen pouring 
out from his side in great wreaths of mist; in Mr. W. Eglinton’s
remarkable 
book, ’Twixt Two Worlds, there will be found three interesting
illustrations 
showing successive stages of the development of this mist, from its
first faint 
appearance until the entranced medium is almost entirely hidden by
wreaths like 
those of thick, heavy smoke.
   
This mist rapidly condenses into a form — sometimes apparently into
an exact 
double of the medium in the first place. I remember at a seance
with the 
well-known medium, Mr. Cecil Husk, after a period of silent
waiting, a brilliant 
light suddenly blazed out, showing everything in the room quite
clearly. The 
medium was crushed together in his chair — shrunk into himself in a
most 
extraordinary way, apparently in a deep trance, and breathing
stertorously; but 
just in front of him stood an exact duplicate of himself, alert and
living, 
holding out in front of him in the palm of his hand an egg-shaped
body, which 
was the source of the brilliant light. He stood thus for a few
moments, and then 
in an instant the light went out, and the form addressed us in the
well-known 
tones of one of the regular “guides” — showing how entirely he
built himself out 
of the substance of the medium.
   
There is no sort of doubt that it is not only etheric matter which
is thus 
temporarily withdrawn from the medium’s body, but also often dense
solid and 
liquid matter, however difficult it may be for us to realize the
possibility of 
such a transference. I have myself seen cases in which this
phenomenon 
undoubtedly took place, and was evidenced by a considerable loss of
weight in 
the medium’s physical body, and also by a most curious and ghastly
appearance of 
having shrivelled up and shrunk together, so that his tiny
wizened-face was 
disappearing into the collar of his coat as he sat. The “guides”
directing a 
seance rarely allow their medium to be seen when he is in this
condition, and 
wisely, for it is indeed a terrible and unwholesome sight, so
uncanny, so 
utterly inhuman that it would inevitably seriously frighten any
nervous person.
   
In that manual of materializations, People from the Other World (p.
243), 
Colonel Olcott describes the manner in which he carefully weighed
the 
materialized form which called itself Honto. At his first attempt
this Red 
Indian girl weighed eighty-eight pounds, but at the Colonel’s
request she 
promptly reduced herself to fifty-eight pounds, and then again
increased to 
sixty-five, all within ten minutes, and without changing her dress.
Nearly all 
this mass of physical matter must have been withdrawn from the body
of the 
medium, who must consequently have lost proportionately.
   
On p. 487 of the same book the Colonel tells us how he tested in
the same way 
the materialized form of Katie Brink, who weighed at first seventy-seven
pounds, 
and then reduced herself to fifty-nine and fifty-two, without
affecting her 
outward appearance in any way. In this case we are confronted with
the 
astonishing phenomenon of the total disappearance of the medium
during the 
materialization, though the Colonel had secured her with sewing
cotton, sealed 
with his own seal, in a peculiar and ingenious way which would
absolutely 
prevent her from leaving her chair in any ordinary way without
breaking the 
cotton. Nevertheless, when he was permitted during the seance to
enter the 
cabinet, that chair was empty; and there was not only nothing to be
seen, but 
also nothing to be felt, when he passed his hands all round the
chair. Yet when 
the seance was over, the medium was found seated as before,
half-fainting and 
utterly exhausted, but with cotton and seal intact! Most wonderful,
truly; yet 
not unique; see Un Cas de Dématerialisation, by M. A. Aksakow.
   
This matter does not always flow out through the side only;
sometimes it appears 
to ooze out from the whole surface of the body, drawn out by the
powerful 
attraction or suction set up by the guides. Its flowing forth is
thus described 
by Madame E. d’Espérance:
   
Then began a strange sensation, which I had sometimes felt at
séances. 
Frequently I have heard it described by others as of cobwebs being
passed over 
the face, but to me, who watched it curiously, it seemed that I
could feel fine 
threads being drawn out of the pores of my skin. Shadowland (p.
229).
 
   
madame d’espérance
.                                                                        
Many mediums have written autobiographies, but I have met with none
which 
impressed me so favourably as this of Madame d’Espérance. It is not
only that it 
has about it an attractive ring of earnestness and truthfulness,
but that the 
author seems far more closely and intelligently observant than most
mediums have 
been, and more anxious to understand the real nature of the
phenomena which 
occur in her presence.
   
She takes a rational view of her abnormal faculty, and sets herself
to study it 
with an earnest and loyal desire to arrive at the truth about it
all. While 
heartily admiring the lady’s courage and determination, one cannot
but regret 
that it did not fall in her way to study Theosophical literature,
which would 
have told her in the beginning every detail that she has slowly and
in many 
cases painfully discovered, at the cost of much unnecessary
suffering and 
anxiety. Her book begins with the pathetic story of a
much-misunderstood 
childhood, and goes on to describe the years of mental struggle
during which the 
medium slowly freed herself from the trammels of the narrowest
orthodoxy. When 
her mediumship was fully developed it certainly seems to have been
of a 
wonderful and varied character, and some of the instances given
might well 
appear incredible to any one ignorant of the subject. I have
myself, however, 
seen phenomena of the same nature as all those which she describes,
and 
consequently I find no difficulty in admitting the possibility of
all the 
strange occurrences which she relates.
   
She realizes strongly and describes forcefully the exceedingly
intimate relation 
which exists between the medium and the body materialized out of
his vehicles. 
We are so entirely accustomed to identify ourselves with our bodies
that it is a 
new and uncanny and almost a horrible sensation to find the body
going through 
vivid and extraordinary experiences in which nevertheless its true
owner has no 
part whatever. On p. 345 of her book above quoted she gives us a
realistic 
description of the strangely unnatural situation in which a
materializing medium 
must so often be placed; and I think that no one can read it
without 
understanding how thoroughly undesirable, how utterly unhealthy on
all planes 
and from all points of view such an experience must be.
 
   
“anna oR I?”
.                                                                        
Now 
comes another figure, shorter, slenderer, and with outstretched
arms. Somebody 
rises up at the far end of the circle and comes forward, and the
two are clasped 
in each other’s arms. Then inarticulate cries of  “Anna! O Anna! My child! My 
loved one!”
   
Then somebody else gets up and puts her arms round the figure; then
sobs, cries, 
and blessings get mixed up. I feel my body swayed to and fro, and
all gets dark 
before my eyes. I feel somebody’s arms around me, although I sit on
my chair 
alone. I feel somebody’s heart beating against my breast. I feel
that something 
is happening. No one is near me except the two children. No one is
taking any 
notice of me. All eyes and thoughts seem concentrated on the white
slender 
figure standing there with the arms of the two black-robed women
around it.
   
It must be my own heart I feel beating so distinctly. Yet those
arms round me? 
Surely never did I feel a touch so plainly. I begin to wonder which
is I. Am I 
the white figure, or am I that on the chair? Are they my hands
round the old 
lady’s neck, or are these mine that are lying on the knees of me,
or on the 
knees of the figure, if it be not I, on the chair?
   
Certainly they are my lips that are being kissed. It is my face
that is wet with 
the tears which these good women are shedding so plentifully. Yet
how can it be? 
It is a horrible feeling, thus losing hold of one’s identity. I
long to put out 
one of these hands that are lying so helplessly, and touch some
one just to 
know if I am myself or only a dream — if  “Anna” be I, and I am lost, as it 
were, in her identity.
   
I feel the old Lady’s trembling arms, the kisses, the tears, the
blessings and 
caresses of the sister, and I wonder in the agony of suspense and
bewilderment, 
how long can it last? How long will there be two of us? Which will
it be in the 
end? Shall I be “Anna” or “Anna” be I?
   
Then I feel two little hands slip themselves into my nerveless
hands, and they 
give me a fresh hold of myself, as it were, and with a feeling of
exultation I 
find I am myself, and that little Jonte, tired of being hidden
behind the three 
figures, feels lonely and grasps my hands for company and comfort.
   
How glad I am of the touch, even from the hand of a child! My
doubts as to who I 
am are gone. While I am feeling thus the white figure of “Anna”
disappears in 
the cabinet, and the two ladies return to their seats, excited and
tearful, but 
overcome with happiness.
.                                                                   
     
There was a great deal more to happen that night, but somehow I
felt weak and 
indifferent to all around me, and not inclined to be interested in
what 
occurred. Strange and remarkable incidents took place, but for the
moment my 
life seemed dragged out of me and I longed for solitude and rest.
   
This feeling of lassitude and of having the life dragged out of
them is 
naturally terribly common among mediums. Sir William Crookes
remarks on p. 41 of 
his Researches:
.                                 
                                       
After witnessing the painful state of nervous and bodily
prostration in which 
some of these experiments have left Mr. Home — after seeing him
lying in an 
almost fainting condition on the floor, pale and speechless — I
could scarcely 
doubt that the evolution of psychic force is accompanied by a
corresponding 
drain on vital force.
   
This entirely agrees with my own experience; I have frequently seen
a medium 
absolutely prostrate after a seance, and I fear that many of them
fancy 
themselves compelled to resort to alcoholic stimulants in order to
recover from 
the terrible drain upon their strength. So much of their vitality
necessarily 
goes into the materialized form, and the disturbance to the system
is so 
serious, that after the seance is over, they are in a condition
closely 
resembling the shock which follows a surgical operation. And no
wonder; for that 
would indeed be a terrible surgical operation which removed forty
to eighty 
pounds of matter from the body, and then restored it again.
   
On the curious connection between the medium and the materialized
form, Madame 
d’Espérance writes as follows as to the relation between herself
and Yolande:
 
   
an intimate Relation
   
There seemed to exist a strange link between us. I could do nothing
to ensure 
her appearance amongst us. She came and went, so far as I am aware,
entirely 
independent of my will, but when she had come, she was, I found,
dependent on 
me for her brief material existence. I seemed to lose, not my
individuality, but 
my strength and power of exertion, and though I did not then know
it, a great 
portion of my material substance. I felt that in some way I was
changed, but the 
effort to think logically in some mysterious way affected Yolande,
and made her 
weak. (Shadowland, p. .)
   
The medium is conscious of her own individuality in the background
all the time; 
but any attempt to assert it, or to think connectedly, immediately
weakens the 
form, or brings it back to the cabinet. And this is natural, for to
think 
logically means to set up chemical action — to produce oxidation of
the 
phosphorus of the brain; whereas it is only under conditions of
perfect 
passivity in the physical vehicle that so much matter can be spared
from it 
without danger to life. As a matter of fact, there is always a
possibility of 
such danger; and in case of sudden shock or disturbance it may come
terribly 
near realization. It is for that reason that the attempt of the
ignorant and 
boastful sceptic to seize the “spirit form” is so criminal as well
as so 
brainless an action; and the person whose colossal stupidity leads
him to commit 
such an atrocity runs a serious risk of occupying the position of
defendant in a 
trial for murder. Beings at that level of intelligence ought not to
be permitted 
to take part in experiments of a delicate nature. What harm may be
done by this 
dangerous variety of the genus blockhead is shown by the following
extract from 
the experiences of Madame d’Espérance, given upon p. 298 of her
book:
 
   
A scandalous outrage
.                                                                        
I 
do not know how long the seance had proceeded, but I knew that
Yolande had taken 
her pitcher on her shoulder and was outside the cabinet. What
actually occurred 
I had to learn afterwards. All I knew was a horrible excruciating
sensation of 
being doubled up and squeezed together, as I can imagine a hollow
guttapercha 
doll would feel, if it had sensation, when violently embraced by
its baby owner. 
A sense of terror and agonizing pain came over me, as though I were
losing hold 
of life and was falling into some fearful abyss, yet knowing
nothing, seeing 
nothing, hearing nothing, except the echo of a scream which I heard
as at a 
distance. I felt I was sinking down, I knew not where. I tried to
save myself, 
to grasp at something, but missed it; and then came a blank from
which I 
awakened with a shuddering horror and sense of being bruised to death.
   
My senses seemed to have been scattered to the winds, and only
little by little 
could I gather them sufficiently together to understand in a slight
degree what 
had happened. Yolande had been seized, and the man who had seized
her declared 
it was I.
   
This is what I was told. The statement was so extraordinary that
if it had not 
been for my utter prostration I could have laughed, but I was
unable to think or 
even move. I felt as though very little life remained in me, and
that little was 
a torment. The haemorrhage of the lungs, which my residence in the
south of 
France had apparently cured, broke out again and the blood almost
suffocated me. 
A severe prolonged illness was the result; and our departure from
England was 
delayed for some weeks, as I could not be moved.
   
No wonder that the “guides” take every precaution in their power
to save their 
medium from such brutality. Even they themselves may suffer through
the 
temporary vehicle which they have assumed, trusting themselves to the
honour and 
good-feeling of those who are present on the physical plane. Mr. R.
D. Owen, in 
The Debatable Land (p. 273), thus refers to this matter:
.                                                                        
Two 
highly intelligent friends of mine, now deceased, Dr. A. D. Wilson
and Professor 
James Mapes, both formerly of New York, each on one occasion firmly
grasped what 
seemed a luminous hand. In both cases the result was the same. What
was laid 
hold of melted entirely away — so each told me — in his grasp. I
have had 
communications to the effect that the spirit thus manifesting its
presence 
suffers when this is done, and that a spirit would have great
reluctance in 
appearing, in bodily form, to any one whom it could not trust to refrain
from 
interference with the phenomena, except by its express permission.
In my 
experiments I have always governed myself accordingly, and I
ascribe my success 
in part to this continence.
   
I do not know whether the “spirit” would suffer in such a case as
this, though 
it certainly does when a materialized form is struck or wounded.
For that reason 
a sword constantly waved round a man who is haunted is supposed to
be a 
protection (and indeed often really is so, as has been seen in some
of the 
narratives previously quoted), and the sword was also an important
part of the 
outfit of the mediaeval magician.
   
No physical weapon could affect the astral body in the slightest
degree; a sword 
might be passed through it again and again without the owner being
even aware of 
it; but as soon as there is any materialization (and wherever
physical phenomena 
occur there must be some materialization, however little) physical
weapons may 
act through it upon the astral body and produce sensation, much as
was the case 
with the more permanent physical body during life. But undoubtedly
the medium 
may be seriously injured by any unauthorized interference with the
materialized 
form, as is seen by Madame d’Espérance’s story.
   
I most heartily endorse the sentiments expressed above by Mr. Owen,
and I have 
always been governed by them in my own investigations. There are
some persons 
who enter upon an enquiry of this kind with the fixed conviction
that they are 
going to be deceived, and (with some idea that they can obviate a
result so 
humbling to their self-conceit) they endeavour to invent all kinds
of 
complicated contrivances, which they think will render fraud
impossible. It is 
quite true that in many cases phenomena do not take place under the
conditions 
which they prescribe, for naturally the dead man is not especially
disposed to 
go out of his way to take a great deal of trouble for a person who
meets him 
from the beginning with unfounded suspicion expressed in terms of
egregious 
self-confidence. Often also the conditions prescribed by the
ignoramus are 
really such as to render phenomena impossible.
   
Dr. Alfred R. Wallace once very truly remarked:
.                                                                         
Scientific men almost invariably assume that, in this enquiry, they
should be 
permitted at the very outset to impose conditions; and if under
such conditions 
nothing happens, they consider it a proof of imposture or delusion.
But they 
well know that in all other branches of research, Nature, not they,
determines 
the essential conditions without a compliance with which no
experiment will 
succeed. These conditions have to be learnt by a patient
questioning of Nature, 
and they are different for each branch of science. How much more
may they be 
expected to differ in an enquiry which deals with subtle forces, of
the nature 
of which the physicist is wholly and absolutely ignorant!
   
In just the same way, a man might easily render electrical
experiments 
impossible, if he chose to regard the insulating arrangements as
suspicious, and 
insisted upon seeing the same results produced when the wires were
uninsulated; 
and then, when it was gently explained to him that insulation was a
necessary 
condition, he might raise the same old parrot-cry of fraud, and
declare that 
these pretended electrical marvels could never be worked under his
conditions! 
Instances of the extent to which folly and cruelty can go in this
direction are 
given with full illustrations in Colonel Olcott’s People from the
Other World 
(pp. 36-40).
.                                                                        
I 
have myself always adopted the plan of giving the dead man credit
for honest 
intention until I saw evidence to the contrary; I have allowed him
to arrange 
his own conditions, and to show exactly what he chose, endeavouring
first of all 
to establish friendly relations; and I have invariably found that
as soon as he 
gained confidence in me, be would gladly describe the limits of his
power, so 
far as he knew them, and would frequently himself suggest tests of
various kinds 
to show to others the genuineness of the phenomena.
   
Attempts have been made to cheat me on several occasions; and when
I saw this to 
be the action of the medium, I held my peace, but troubled that
medium no 
further. On the other hand, I have also seen cases of deceit where
I felt 
convinced that the medium’s intentions were perfectly honest, and
that the 
deception lay entirely with the unseen actors in the drama. I have
known the 
medium’s physical body, when in a condition of trance, to be
wrapped up in 
materialized gauzy drapery, and passed off as “a spirit form” —
apparently for 
no other reason than to save the operators the trouble of producing
a genuine 
materialization, or possibly because in some way or other the power
to produce 
the real manifestation was lacking. In this case the medium, on
hearing what had 
happened after recovery from his trance, protested most earnestly
and with every 
appearance of real sincerity that he had had no conception of what
was being 
done; and, having many times before seen unmistakably genuine
manifestations 
through him, I believed him. Exactly the same story was told to me
by a 
well-known medium with regard to an “exposure” of him which was
triumphantly 
trumpeted abroad in many newspapers; and it is at least perfectly
possible that 
the statement may have been equally true in that case also. My
experience 
therefore warrants me in saying that even when a clear case of
fraud is 
discovered, it is not always safe to blame the medium for it. On
the other hand, 
I have known a medium come to give a seance with half-a-yard of
muslin hanging 
out of her pocket, and I have recognized the aforesaid muslin
appearing as 
spirit drapery at a later stage of the proceedings — in its
original form, I 
mean, for even in cases of genuine materialization of drapery it is
frequently 
formed from the material of the clothes of the medium. Once more we
may turn to 
Madame d’Espérance for an instance showing this to be the case.
 
   
“spiRit” drapery
   
It was at one of those seances in Christiania that a sitter
“abstracted” a piece 
of drapery which clothed one of the spirit-forms. Later I
discovered that a 
large square piece of material was missing from my skirt, partly
cut, partly 
torn out. My dress was of a heavy dark woollen material. The
“abstracted” piece 
of drapery was found to be of the same shape as that missing from
my skirt, but 
several times larger, and white in colour, the texture fine and
thin as 
gossamer.
   
Something of the kind had happened once before in England, when
some one had 
begged the little Ninia for a piece of her abundant clothing. She
complied, 
unwillingly, it seemed, and the reason for her unwillingness was explained
when, after the seance, I found a hole in a new dress which I had
put on for the 
first time. This being nearly black, I had attributed the mishap
more to an 
accident on the part of Ninia than to any psychological cause. Now
that it 
happened a second time, I began to understand that it was no
accident, and that 
my dress, or the clothing of the persons in the seance, was the
foundation of, 
or the stores from which the dazzling raiment of the spirit form
was drawn. 
(Shadowland, p. .)
   
There are various types of this materialized drapery — some quite
coarse and 
some exceedingly fine — finer indeed than even the production of
Eastern looms. 
Sometimes the manifesting entity will encourage a favoured sitter
to feel this 
drapery or even to cut a piece from it. I have had such pieces
given to me on 
several occasions; some of them lasted for years, and appear to be
permanent, 
while others faded away in the course of an hour or so, and one
within ten 
minutes. Though light and filmy white drapery seems to be the
regular fashion 
among materialized forms, I have also seen them show themselves in
the ordinary 
garb of civilization, and sometimes in a uniform or some special
dress 
characteristic of their position during life.
 
   
materialization in full view
   
The following very good account of the materialization and
dematerialization of 
a form is given in Shadowland (p. 254), and was written by a member
who had 
frequently formed part of that circle:
.                                                                        
First a filmy, cloudy patch of something white is observed on the
floor in front 
of the cabinet. It then gradually expands, visibly extending itself
as if it 
were an animated patch of muslin, lying fold upon fold, on the
floor, until 
extending about two and a half by three feet and having a depth of
a few inches 
— perhaps six or more. Presently it begins to rise slowly in or
near the centre, 
as if a human head were underneath it, while the cloudy film on the
floor begins 
to look more like muslin falling into folds about the portion so
mysteriously 
rising. By the time it has attained two or more feet, it looks as
if a child 
were under it and moving its arms about in all directions as if
manipulating 
something underneath.
   
It continues rising, oftentimes sinking somewhat to rise again
higher than 
before, until it attains a height of about five feet, when its form
can be seen 
as if arranging the folds of drapery about its figure.
   
Presently the arms rise considerably above the head and open
outwards through a 
mass of cloud-like spirit drapery, and Yolande stands before us
unveiled, 
graceful and beautiful, nearly five feet in height, having a
turban-like head 
dress, from beneath which her long black hair hangs over her
shoulders and down 
her back.
   
Her body-dress, of Eastern form, displays every limb and contour of
the body, 
while the superfluous white veil-like drapery is wrapped round her
for 
convenience, or thrown down on the carpet out of the way till
required again.
   
All this occupies from ten to fifteen minutes to accomplish.
   
When she disappears or dematerializes it is as follows. Stepping
forward to show 
herself and be identified by any strangers then present, she slowly
and 
deliberately opens out the veil-like superfluous drapery; expanding
it, she 
places it over her head, and spreads it round her like a great
bridal veil, and 
then immediately but slowly sinks down, becoming less bulky as she
collapses, 
dematerializing her body beneath the cloud-like drapery until it
has little or 
no resemblance to Yolande. Then she further collapses until she has
no 
resemblance to human form, and more rapidly sinks down to fifteen
or twelve 
inches. Then suddenly the form falls into a heaped patch of drapery
— literally 
Yolande’s left-off clothing, which slowly but visibly melts into
nothingness.
   
The dematerializing of Yolande’s body occupies from two to five
minutes, while 
the disappearance of the drapery occupies from half a minute to two
minutes. On 
one occasion, however, she did not dematerialize this drapery or
veil, but left 
the whole lying on the carpet in a heap, until another spirit came
out of the 
cabinet to look at it for a moment, as if moralizing on poor
Yolande’s 
disappearance. This taller spirit also disappeared and was
replaced by the 
little, brisk, vivacious child-form of Ninia, the Spanish girl, who
likewise 
came to look at Yolande’s remains; and, curiously picking up the
loft-off 
garments, proceeded to wrap them round her own little body, which
was already 
well clothed with drapery.
   
I have myself seen both these processes, almost exactly as
described above. In 
my case the form was that of an unusually tall man, and he did not
begin by 
forming drapery, but appeared as a patch of cloudy light on the
floor, which 
rose and increased until it looked somewhat like the stump of a
tree. It grew on 
until it was a vague pillar of cloud towering above our heads, and
then 
gradually condensed into a definite and well-known form, which
stepped forward, 
shook me warmly by the hand, and spoke in a full clear voice,
exactly as any 
other friend might have done. After talking to us for about five
minutes and 
answering several questions, he again shook hands with us and
announced that he 
must go. Bidding us good-bye, he immediately became indistinct in
outline, and 
relapsed into the pillar of cloud, which sank down fairly rapidly
into the small 
cloudy mass of light upon the floor, which then flickered and
vanished.
   
I have seen three materialized forms together — one of them an Arab
six inches 
taller than the medium, another a European of ordinary medium
height, and the 
third a little girl of dark complexion, claiming to be a Red Indian
— while the 
medium was securely locked up inside a wire cage of his own
invention, which was 
secured by two keys (both in my pocket) and a letter-lock which
could only be 
operated from the outside. Later in the same evening we were
requested to unlock 
this cage, and the two forms first described brought out the
entranced medium 
between them, one supporting him by each arm. We were allowed to
touch both the 
medium and the materialized forms, and were much struck to find the
latter 
distinctly firmer and more definite than the former. They did not
in this case 
return him to his cage, but laid him upon a sofa in full view of us
all, 
cautioned us that he would be exceedingly exhausted when he woke,
and then 
incontinently vanished into thin air before our eyes. All this took
place in a 
dim light, the two gas-jets in the room being both turned very low,
but there 
was all the time quite sufficient illumination to enable us to
recognize 
clearly the features both of the medium and of our dead visitors,
and to follow 
their movements with absolute certainty.
   
It is only when the conditions are favourable that one may hope to
find the 
materialized forms able to move about the room as freely as in the
cases above 
described. More generally the materialized form is strictly
confined to the 
immediate neighbourhood of the medium, and is subject to an
attraction which is 
constantly drawing it back to the body from which it came, so that
if kept away 
from the medium too long the figure collapses, and the matter which
composed it, 
returning to the etheric condition, rushes back instantly to its
source. It is 
excessively dangerous to the medium’s health, or even to his life,
to prevent 
this return in any way; and it was no doubt precisely this that
caused such 
terrible suffering in the case of poor Madame d’Espérance, above
quoted. It 
would seem from her own account as though the majority of her
etheric matter, 
and probably a great deal of the denser also, was with Yolande
rather than in 
the cabinet; and since the form of Yolande was so unwarrantably
detained it is 
probable that what was left in her body would rush into Yolande’s,
and so it 
would in one sense be true that she was found outside the cabinet
and in the 
hands of the ignorant vulgarian who had seized the materialized
form. All this 
makes it increasingly obvious that no one who has not sufficient
education to 
comprehend a little of the conditions ought ever to be permitted to
take part in 
a seance.
   
Another reason for great care in the selection of sitters is that
in the case of 
materialization matter is borrowed to some extent from all of them
as well as 
from the medium. There is no doubt, therefore, a considerable
intermixture of 
such matter, and undesirable qualities or vices of any kind in any
one of the 
sitters are distinctly liable to react upon the others, and most of
all upon the 
medium, who is almost certain to be the most sensitive person
present — from 
whom, in any case, the heaviest contribution will be drawn. Yet
again we may 
obtain an example of this from Madame d’Espérance’s invaluable
book. On p. 307 
she writes:
 
   
evil effect of tobacco
.                                                                        
From the very beginning of our experiments in this line I had
always more or 
less suffered from nausea and vomiting after a seance for
materialization, and I 
had grown to accept this as a natural consequence and not to be
avoided. This 
had always been the case, except when surrounded only by the
members of our 
home circle or children. During the course of seances for
photography this 
unpleasantness increased so much that I was usually prostrate for a
day, or 
sometimes two, after a sitting, and, as the symptoms were those of
nicotine 
poisoning, experiments were made and it was discovered that none of
these 
uncomfortable sensations were felt when seances were held with
non-smokers. 
Again, when sick persons were in the circle, I invariably found
myself feeling 
more or less unwell afterwards. With persons accustomed to the use
of alcohol 
the discomfort was almost as marked as with smokers.
.                                                                        
These seances were to me fruitful in many respects; I learned that
many habits, 
which are common to the generality of mankind and sanctioned by
custom, are 
deleterious to the results of a seance, or, at any rate, to the
health of a 
medium.
   
A “guide” who has been working for some years, and has learnt to
know fairly 
well the possibilities of the plane, has often interesting
phenomena connected 
with materialization which he is willing to exhibit to special
friends when the 
power is strong. One such exhibition was sometimes given by him
who calls 
himself  “John King” many
years ago, and may perhaps be given by him still. He 
would sometimes take one of the painted luminous slates and lay his
hand upon 
it. A fine, strong, muscular, well-shaped hand it was, and its
outline of course 
stood forth perfectly distinctly against the faintly luminous
background. Then 
as we watched it, he would cause that hand to diminish visibly
until it was a 
miniature about the size of a small baby's hand, though still
perfect in its 
resemblance to his own. Then slowly and steadily under our eyes it
would grow 
again until it became gigantic, and covered the whole slate, and
would finally 
return by degrees to its normal size. Now of course this
manifestation might 
easily have been a mere case of mesmeric influence if only one
person had seen 
it; but since every one in the circle saw precisely the same, and
there was 
nothing to indicate that any attempt at mesmerism was being made,
it seemed on 
the whole more probable that it was really an exhibition of
augmentation and 
diminution in the materialized hand — a result which could readily
be brought 
about by any one who understood how to manipulate the matter.
 
   
A dead man’s joke
   
Occasionally the materialization takes some other shape than the
human. One such 
case which I recollect vividly shows that our departed friends by
no means lose 
their sense of humour when they pass over into astral life. At a
certain seance 
we were much annoyed by the presence of a man of the boastful
sceptic genus. He 
swaggered in the usual blatant way, and showed his entire
ignorance by every 
word he uttered in the loud, coarse voice which constantly
reiterated that he 
knew that all these things were nonsense, and that we might be sure
that nothing 
would happen so long as he was there.
   
This went on for some time as we sat round the table, and at last
the medium, 
who was a mild, inoffensive sort of man, quietly advised him to
moderate his 
tone, as on several occasions the “spirits” had been known to treat
rather 
roughly persons who talked in that manner. The sceptic, however,
only became 
coarser and more offensive in his remarks, defying any spirit that
ever existed 
to frighten him, or even to dare to show itself in his presence. We
had now been 
sitting for a good while in the darkness, and nothing whatever had
happened 
beyond a few brief words from one of the “guides” at the
commencement of the 
seance, which had informed us that they were storing up power. As
the time 
passed on we all became somewhat wearied, and I at least began to
think that 
perhaps our sceptic really was so inharmonious an influence that it
would be 
impossible to obtain any good results — wherein, however, it seems
that I was 
wrong.
   
To make clear what did happen I must say a few words as to the room
in which the 
seance was being held. It was a tiny apartment at the back of the
house on the 
second floor, opening out of a much larger front room by great
folding-doors 
which reached up to the ceiling. We were seated round a large
circular table, so 
much out of proportion to the room that the backs of our chairs
were all but 
touching the walls and the big door as we sat round it. There was
another door 
in the corner of the room leading to a flight of stairs; that was
locked, the 
key being in the lock on the inside, and the great doors were also
secured by a 
bolt on our side. We sat, as I say, with practically no
manifestations for about 
three-quarters of an hour, and I at least was heartily tired of the
whole thing.
   
Suddenly in the adjoining room we heard extraordinarily ponderous
footsteps, as 
of some mighty giant; and even as we raised our heads to listen the
great doors 
burst violently open, crashing into the backs of the chairs on that
side, 
driving them and their occupants against the table, and so pushing
the table 
itself against those on the opposite side. A pale, rather ghastly
luminosity 
shone in through the opened door, and by its light we saw — we all
saw — an 
enormous elephant stepping straight in upon us, dashing the chairs
together 
with his stride! A gigantic elephant in a room of that size is not
exactly a 
pleasant neighbour; nobody stopped to think of the impossibility of
the thing — 
nobody waited to see what would happen next; the great beast was on
the top of 
us, as it were, and the man nearest to the back door tore it open,
and before we 
had time for a second thought we were all rushing madly down those
stairs.
   
A roar of Homeric laughter followed us, and in a moment we realized
the 
absurdity of the situation, and some of us ran back, and struck a
light. No one 
was there, and both the rooms were empty; there was no way out of
either of them 
but the doors which opened side by side upon the head of the stair,
which had 
been within our sight all the time; there was no place to which
anybody could 
have escaped, if any one could have been playing a trick upon us;
not a trace of 
an elephant, and nothing to show for our fright, except the bolt
torn off the 
folding-door with the force of the bursting open, and three broken
chairs to 
testify to the speed of our departure! We gathered again in our
room, and gave 
way (now it was over) to unrestrained mirth — all but our sceptic,
who had 
rushed straight out of the house; and he was so terrified that he
would not even 
return into the hall below for his coat and hat, and they had to be
carried out 
into the street for him. I have never seen him since, but I have
sometimes 
wondered exactly how he explained to himself afterwards the deception
which he 
must have supposed to be practised upon him.
   
In this case the guides controlling the seance evidently thought it
desirable to 
administer a salutory lesson; but this is rarely done, as it is not
usually 
considered worth while to waste so large an amount of energy over
so unworthy an 
object as the conceited and blatant sceptic. It is one of the rules
of the 
higher life that force should be economized, and employed only
where there is at 
least reasonable hope that good can be done. We have an instance
of the 
application of this rule in the life of our Great Exemplar, for is
it not 
recorded that when Christ visited His own country “He did not many
mighty works 
there because of their unbelief”?* His power could unquestionably
have broken 
down their obstinate scepticism; but it is His Will to knock at the
door of the 
human heart, not to force Himself upon those who are as yet unready
to profit by 
His ministrations.
   
__________
·       Matthew, xiii, .
 
 
-------Cardiff Theosophical Society in Wales-------
206 Newport Road, Cardiff, Wales, UK. CF24-1DL                                                                       
.                                                                        
Chapter X
.                                                                        
SOME RECENT MATERIALIZATION PHENOMENA
 
   
ectoplasms
.                                                                        
It 
is only lately that scientific men have undertaken an enquiry into
the nature of 
the curious material produced at seances, out of which visible and
tangible 
phantoms are built. It has long been understood in a general way by
spiritualists that the visiting entities use some sort of matter
derived from 
the medium, and to some extent from the other persons present, with
which to 
densify their superphysical forms. Bat only comparatively recently
has it been 
realized that the material so employed comes not merely from the
etheric body, 
but even to a large extent from the tissues of the dense physical
body, and that 
it therefore has in some way impressed upon it the habit of the
organic 
structures from which it comes.
   
Apparently, then, the operating entities find it necessary to allow
that 
material to follow its own lines of growth in the production of
forms as it 
densifies, adapting these only so far as may be absolutely
necessary; the aim 
being, no doubt, to conserve energy as much as possible. This
physiological 
aspect of materialization phenomena has called forth much
scientific interest, 
and up to date we have the results of extensive research upon it in
several 
volumes, particularly in Dr. Geley’s Clairvoyance and Materialization
and Baron 
von Schrenck-Notzing’s Phenomena of Materialization.
.                                                                        
The 
substance in question appears to be of precisely the same
character from 
whatever medium it may come. It issues in an invisible form, which
may sometimes 
be felt as a wind. It then becomes vaporous, and finally condenses
into a white, 
grey or black material of various textures. This is then moulded
into human 
limbs and faces and sometimes entire figures, apparently by unseen
sources of 
intelligence. Sometimes, however, the operating intelligences are
seen by the 
medium or other clairvoyant persons who may be present, and also
other than 
human forms are produced, as in the case of Mr. Kluski, about whom
a perfectly 
formed eagle has frequently been seen and even photographed. On
account of the 
plastic quality of this material and the fact that it can be
moulded into forms 
at a little distance from the medium’s body, it goes by the name of
teleplasm, 
and to the forms made out of it Professor Richet gave the name
ectoplasms some 
years ago. Afterwards, some writers modified Professor Richet’s
nomenclature, 
and designated the substance itself ectoplasm.
   
In the case of the famous medium Eusapia Palladino the first
manifestation 
appeared in the form of a cool wind issuing from her forehead,
especially from 
an old wound on one side of her head, and from other parts of the
body. This 
wind would billow out the curtains of the cabinet or the material
of her dress, 
and within the protection of the dark space behind them would
proceed to densify 
into a form, which might then emerge into some degree of light. The
endeavours 
of later investigators have been to induce the operating entities
to perform the 
entire process in full view as far as possible, for the sake of
scientific 
research, and this no doubt accounts for the fact that many of the
materialized 
forms photographed in various stages of growth are not as perfect
as some of the 
earlier phenomena, such as the appearance of Katie King through the
mediurnship 
of Florence Cook.
 
   
the phEnomEna of eUsapia palladino
   
The following typical account of Madame Palladino’s work appears in
Mr. 
Carrington’s Eusapia Palladino and her Phenomena, p. 205:
.                                                                        
After the medium had resumed her chair, we felt her head with our
hands, to see 
if the cold breeze was issuing from her forehead. We all clearly
perceived it 
with our hands, placed at a distance of about three inches from the
medium’s 
head. F. held his hand over her mouth and nose, and we all did
likewise, holding 
our noses and mouths and refraining from breathing, and the breeze
was still 
distinctly perceptible. B. then held a small paper flag to the
medium’s forehead 
— her nose and mouth, as well as our own, still being covered. The
flag blew out 
several times, and then out so forcibly that it turned completely
over and 
wrapped itself once round the flagstaff, to which it was attached.
The objective 
nature of this breeze was thus established — though a thermometer
held to her 
head failed to record any lowering of temperature.
   
A fair example of the phenomena produced by what was presumably a condensation
of this wind was given in the experiments made at Turin in 1907 by
Professor 
Lombroso and his two assistants, Dr. Imoda and Dr. Audenino. These
seances were 
held in the clinical chamber of psychiatry in the University, and
were attended 
by a number of eminent men. The unanimous opinion was that “even
the cleverest 
trickery could not begin to explain the majority of the phenomena
observed”. The 
phenomena took place in the light of an electric lamp of ten
candle-power. In 
the second and later seances there were heavy blows on the table as
well as the 
usual lighter raps, and various musical instruments were played.
The persons 
present were tapped and pulled, and various objects were thrown
about.
.                                                                         A 
footstool of common wood, which was inside the medium’s cabinet,
shook and fell; 
the curtain also shook; behind it a hand grasped repeatedly the
extended hands 
of those present; shook them and caressed them. Suddenly, to the
surprise of 
all, a little closed hand, the arm covered with a dark sleeve,
showed itself in 
the full light, quite visibly; it was pink, plump and fresh.
“Surprise did not 
prevent our at once giving attention to the control of the medium;
her hands 
were firmly enclosed in those of the two watchful doctors.” A few
minutes later 
a cold wind came from behind the curtain, which suddenly opened as
if it had 
been opened by two hands, a human head came out, with a pale,
haggard face, of 
sinister evil aspect. It lingered a moment and then disappeared.
   
The wooden stool rose up in the air and seemed to want to leave the
cabinet, 
pushing aside the curtains. It was liberated from the curtains,
then it 
continued to ascend in an inclined position toward the circle.
Several hands 
stretched out, following the curious phenomenon, and lightly
touched the object.
   
The woman’s small hand then reappeared near the curtain, seized one
of the feet 
of the footstool, and pushed it. Signor Mucchi broke the chain,
and, by a rapid 
action, seized the warm hand, which at once seemed to dissolve and
disappeared. 
Immediately observations were made to ascertain if the medium’s two
hands were 
well controlled; such was found to be the case. The footstool kept
on rising, 
and passed over the heads of the sitters, but at this moment the
medium seemed 
in distress, and cried out: “It will kill us! Catch it!” The hands
that were 
following the movements of the small piece of furniture then
seized hold of it 
to withdraw it from this perilous position, but an invisible force
withdrew it 
to the centre of the table, where it finally remained in repose.
.                                                                        
At 
the close of the seance, the reporter placed his hand on the deep
scar which the 
medium has on the left side of her head, and felt a strong, cold,
continuous 
breeze issuing from it, like a human breath. He subsequently felt
the same cold 
breeze issuing, though less strongly, from the tips of her fingers.
(p. 90).
   
In some cases a complete form appeared, as in the following record,
on page 96:
.                                                                        
The 
medium rested her head against the shoulder of the controller on
the right; her 
hands were held in his; suddenly the curtain shook violently, a
cold wind passed 
out, then a human form covered by the thin material of the curtain
was visible 
against this light background. The head of a woman, unstable and
staggering, 
approached the face of the old man; she moved tremblingly like an
old woman; 
perhaps she kissed him; the old man encouraged her; she withdrew,
returned, 
seemed as if she was afraid to venture, then advanced resolutely.
 
   
the telEplasm of eva C.
   
One of the most successful materializing mediums of recent years is
the lady 
known as Eva C. More than a hundred scientific men, especially
physicians, have 
had an opportunity of observing her phenomena. Dr. Geley had two
sittings a week 
with her for twelve months, and has fully and carefully described
the teleplasm 
or ectoplasm. In a lecture given on the 28th of January, 1918, to
the members of 
the Psychological Institute in the medical lecture theatre of the
College de 
France, in which Dr. Geley discusses his observations with Eva C.,
he gave a 
description of the material which has been summarized as follows.
(Phenomena of 
Materialization, p. .)
.                                                                        
A 
substance emanates from the body of the medium, it externalizes
itself, and is 
amorphous, or polymorphous, in the first instance. This substance
takes various 
forms, but, in general, it shows more or less composite organs. We
may 
distinguish (1) the substance as a substratum of materialization;
(2) its 
organized development. Its appearance is generally announced by
the presence of 
fluid, white and luminous flakes of a size ranging from that of a
pea to that of 
a five-franc piece, and distributed here and there over the
medium’s black 
dress, principally on the left side.
   
This manifestation is a premonitory phenomenon, which sometimes
precedes the 
other phenomena by three quarters of an hour, or an hour. Sometimes
it is 
wanting, and it occasionally happens that no other manifestation
follows.
   
The substance itself emanates from the whole body of the medium,
but especially 
from the natural orifices and the extremities, from the top of the
head, from 
the breasts, and the tips of the fingers. The most usual origin,
which is most 
easily observed, is that from the mouth. We then see the substance
externalizing 
itself from the inner surface of the cheeks, from the gums, and
from the roof of 
the mouth.
   
The substance occurs in various forms, sometimes as ductile dough,
sometimes as 
a true protoplastic mass, sometimes in the form of numerous thin
threads, 
sometimes as cords of various thickness, or in the form of narrow
rigid rays, 
or as a broad band, as a membrane, as a fabric, or as a woven
material with 
indefinite and irregular outlines. The most curious appearance is
presented by a 
widely expanded membrane, provided with fringes and rucks, and
resembling in 
appearance a net.
   
The amount of externalized matter varies within wide limits. In
some cases it 
completely envelops the medium as in a mantle. It may have three
different 
colours — white, black, or grey. The white colour is the most
frequent, perhaps 
because it is most easily observed. Sometimes the three colours
appear 
simultaneously. The visibility of the substance varies a great
deal, and it may 
slowly increase or decrease in succession. To the touch it gives
various 
impressions. Sometimes it is moist and cold, sometimes viscous and
sticky, more 
rarely dry and hard. The impression created depends on the shape.
It appears 
soft and slightly elastic when it is expanded, and hard, knotty, or
fibrous when 
it forms cords. Sometimes it produces the feeling of a spider’s web
passing over 
the observer's hand. The threads are both rigid and elastic.
   
The substance is mobile. Sometimes it moves slowly up or down,
across the 
medium, on her shoulders, on her breast, or on her knees, with a
creeping motion 
resembling a reptile.
   
Sometimes the movements are sudden and quick. The substance appears
and 
disappears like lightning and is extraordinarily sensitive. Its
sensitiveness is 
mixed up with the hyperaesthetic sensibility of the medium. Every
touch produces 
a painful reaction in the medium. When the touch is moderately
strong, or 
prolonged, the medium complains of a pain comparable with the pain
produced by a 
shock to the normal body.
   
The substance is sensitive to light. Strong light, especially when
sudden and 
unexpected, produces a painful disturbance in the subject. Yet
nothing is more 
variable than the action of light. In some cases, the phenomena
withstand full 
daylight. The magnesium flash-light acts like a sudden blow on the
medium, but 
it is withstood, and flash-light photographs can be taken.
   
The substance has an intrinsic and irresistible tendency towards
organization. 
It does not remain long in the primitive condition. It often
happens that the 
organization is so rapid that the primordial substance does not
appear at all. 
At other times one sees at the same time the amorphous substance,
and some forms 
or structures, more or less completely embedded in it, e.g., a
thumb suspended 
in a fringe of the substance. One even sees heads and faces
embedded in the 
material.
.                                                                        
As 
to actual experiments, Dr. Geley gives the following case from his
note book:
.                                                                        
A 
cord of white substance proceeds slowly from the mouth down to
Eva’s knees, 
having the thickness of about two fingers. This band assumes the
most varied 
forms before our eyes. Sometimes it expands in the form of a
membraneous fabric, 
with gaps and bulges. Sometimes it contracts and folds up,
subsequently 
expanding and stretching out again. Here and there projections
issue from the 
mass, a sort of pseudopods, and these sometimes take, for a few
seconds, the 
form of fingers, or the elementary outline of a hand, subsequently
returning 
back into the mass. Finally, the cord contracts into itself,
extending again on 
Eva’s knees. Its end rises in the air, leaves the medium, and
approaches me. I 
then see that the end condenses itself in the form of a knot or
terminal bud, 
and this again expands into a perfectly modelled hand. I touch this
hand; it 
feels quite normal. I feel the bones and the fingers with the
nails. This hand 
is then drawn back, becomes smaller, and vanishes at the end of the
cord. The 
latter makes a few further motions, contracts, and then returns
into the 
medium’s mouth. (p. .)
   
Again:
.                                                                        
A 
head suddenly appears about 30 inches from the head of the medium,
above her and 
on her right side. It is a human head of normal dimensions, well
developed, and 
with the usual relief. The top of the skull and the forehead are
completely 
materialized. The forehead is broad and high. The hair is short and
thick, and 
of a chestnut or black colour. Below the line of the eyebrows the
design is 
vague, only the forehead and skull appearing clearly. The head
disappears for a 
moment behind the curtain, and then reappears in the same condition,
but the 
face, imperfectly materialized, is covered with a white mask. I
extend my hand, 
and pass my fingers through the bushy hair, and touch the bones of
the skull. 
The next moment everything had disappeared. (p. .)
   
Speaking from the physiological point of view the doctor adds:
.                                                                        
Both normal and supernormal physiology tend to establish the unity
of the 
organic substance. In our experiments we have observed, above all,
that a 
uniform amorphous substance externalizes itself from the medium’s
body, and 
gives rise to the various ideoplastic forms. We have seen how this
uniform 
substance organized and transformed itself under our eyes. We have
seen a hand 
emerging from the mass of the substance; a white mass developed
into a face. We 
have seen how in a few moments the form of a head was replaced by
the shape of a 
hand. By the concurrent testimony of sight and touch we have
followed the 
transition of the amorphous unorganized substance into an
organically developed 
structure which had temporarily all the attributes of life — a
complete 
formation, so to speak, in flesh arid blood.
   
We have watched the disappearance of these formations as they sank
back into 
primitive substance, and have even observed how, in an instant,
they were 
absorbed into the body of the medium. In supranormal physiology
there are no 
different organic substrata for the various substances, as, e.g., a
bone 
substance, a muscular, visceral, or nervous substance; it is simply
then a 
single substance, the basis and substratum of organic life.
   
In normal physiology it is exactly the same, but it is not so
obvious. In some 
cases it appears quite clear that the phenomenon which takes place
in the black 
seance cabinet, takes place also, as already mentioned, in the
chrysalis of the 
insect. The dissolution of tissues reduces a large proportion of
the organs, and 
their various parts, to a single substance, that substance which is
destined to 
materialize the organs and the various parts of the adult form. We,
therefore, 
have the same manifestation in both physiologies. (p. .)
   
But it is Baron von Schrenck-Notzing of Munich who has given us the
fullest 
account of Eva’s mediumship, in his great work Phenomena of
Materialization, a 
large volume containing no less than 225 illustrations, mostly from
actual 
photographs of the occurrences. These are derived from literally
hundreds of 
sessions, extending from May, 1909 to June, . The phenomena
described in 
this book are of the same nature as those of Dr. Geley, but as they
relate to an 
earlier period of Eva’s work they show a gradual development of the
power, at 
any rate with respect to that condition of the teleplastic
substance in which it 
is capable of being photographed. Madame Bisson, who lives with
Eva, and has 
taken care of her for many years, describes a number of occasions
on which she 
was able to handle the teleplasm, and she confirms the sensations
of it which 
are described by Dr. Geley.
   
The teleplasm is rarely, if ever, entirely separated from the
medium, and though 
it possesses no organized nerves, impressions made upon it by touch
and by light 
appear in the medium’s consciousness as her own sensations.
Incidentally, this 
proves that the nervous system is not absolutely necessary for the
communication 
of sensations to the brain. Generally speaking, any pressure given
to the 
substance, or any sudden and powerful light, such as that from a
pocket electric 
lamp, hurts the  medium. The
pain seems to appear in the body of the medium in 
that part of the body from which the material was probably drawn.
The following 
example illustrates this to some extent.
.                                                                        
Eva 
took my right hand in both her hands. This time the material was
thrown on my 
right hand and on her hands, completely enclosing our hands. I then
commenced to 
pull again and to draw the material outwards, proceeding as
tenderly as 
possible, in order not to hurt the medium. When I began to examine
the material, 
it had curled right round my hand. Suddenly Eva made a movement
with her hands, 
lying on my arm, and involuntarily pulled at the material held by
me. It 
obviously frightened and hurt her, for she screamed, and gave me
great anxiety. 
I tried to soothe her, but she complained of a strong nausea. The
nausea 
continued for about ten minutes (p. .)
.                                                                         At
a later sitting (p. 131) when a female head showed itself, the
Baron heard Eva 
speak at the same time, and request Madame Bisson to cut a lock
from the head. 
Madame Bisson took a pair of scissors, and while under the careful
observation 
of the Baron, cut off a lock of hair about four inches long and
gave it to him. 
The materialized structure then suddenly disappeared in the
direction of the 
medium, accompanied by a scream from her. After the sitting a lock
of the 
medium’s hair was cut, with her permission. While Eva’s hair showed
an entirely 
brunette character, that taken from the small head (which
represented a female 
form whom Eva called Estelle) was blonde, and the fact that the two
samples of 
hair were quite different was further proved by the
microphotographical and 
chemical examinations made by experts (p. 133).
 
   
SCIENTIFIC PRECAUTIONS
   
It should be mentioned that the scientists engaged in this research
work always 
made every possible examination of the medium as well as of the
place of meeting 
beforehand. As to this Dr. von Schrenck-Notzing writes:
.                                                                        
Not 
one of the observers during these four years has ever found on the
medium’s 
body, or in the seance costumes anything which could have been used
for the 
fraudulent production of the phenomena. The author was a witness to
the thorough 
performance of this task on no less than 180 occasions. The honesty
of the 
medium is therefore not a probability, but a certainty placed
beyond all 
question. She has never introduced any objects into the cabinet
with which she 
could have fraudulently represented the teleplastic products. The various
seance 
rooms, in different houses, had no secret passages or trap-doors,
and were 
regularly examined, both before and after every sitting. (p. .)
   
If many of the faces and forms which appear look to the casual
observer as 
though drawn upon and cut out of paper, and are even marked by
lines as though 
that paper, had been folded up, nevertheless it cannot be assumed
that paper 
figures were smuggled into the seances. Both the rigidity of the
searches and 
the control of the medium prevent not only their being introduced,
but also 
their being handled if introduced. The examination of the
photographs by 
experts, and their fruitless attempt to produce similar effects
with paper 
figures photographed under exactly the same conditions, also show
fraud to be 
impossible; and the exgurgitation hypothesis, which has been
proposed by some 
speculators, also stretches the imagination too far from possible
facts; 
besides, in some of the experiments bilberry jam was given to Eva
to eat shortly 
before the sitting, and this must inevitably have coloured the
entire contents 
of the stomach (p. 206).
 
   
the development of the forms
.                                                                        
On 
the other hand, it does often appear that the intelligences
operating in the 
production of the forms have some difficulty in their
materialization, which 
they can overcome only by methods of production resembling those of
the artist 
and the sculptor on our own plane. For example, as to the
experiment of the 10th 
of September, 1912, the Baron mentions (p. 196) that the head which
appeared 
showed in several respects faults of drawing. Sometimes the same
phantom appears 
a number of times, with or without a considerable interval. In such
cases Baron 
von Schrenck-Notzing finds that while there is the same head and
dress, and 
position of the arms crossed over the breast, there are a great
number of small 
differences. He concludes that the differences between the pictures
taken of the 
same type but on different evenings may be compared with the
different poses of 
a person at a photographer’s, and that they are due principally to
different 
positions of the body, owing to displacement and changes in the
external lines 
and the folds of the dress. The differences, he adds, indicate
mobility and 
variability of the artistic will behind the scenes in the details
and shades of 
the conception, for the “elementary formative principle” never
produces rigid 
and unchangeable products, 
“but the photographed emanations always indicate a 
mobile, soft material basis, which is highly changeable and rapidly
perishable.” 
(p. .)
   
The same distinguished investigator had also a number of seances
with a Polish 
medium, a girl of nineteen years, named Stanislava P. (p. 251 et
seq.) From her 
he obtained phenomena very similar to those presented by Eva C. In
this series 
of investigations some cinema pictures were taken — on one
occasion as many as 
four hundred, and on another three hundred and sixty (p. 258). The
films show 
the recession of the material into the mouth of the medium, and one
of them also 
shows the broadening and narrowing of the mass of substance.
   
In 1922 Baron von Schrenck-Notzing devoted several months to
demonstrations of 
the reality of ectoplasm to members of the liberal professions, in
this case 
with a medium named Willy Schneider, an Austrian boy of . Through
these 
phenomena a large number of scientists became convinced of the
reality of 
materializations.
 
   
the clothing oF phantoms
   
The question is sometimes asked why the materialized forms of
persons who have 
been dead for a considerable time still present themselves in the
clothing which 
they used to wear. This is not always strictly the case, but it is
generally so 
even when the departed person may have changed his habit in the
astral world. 
One reason for this is that many of them would not be recognized in
their new 
condition, but it appears also that when they come within earth
influence their 
old earth condition closes in upon them, as it were, and reproduces
the old 
material forms. Through Mrs. Coates in trance (Photographing the
Invisible, p. 
208) the reply given to this question was :
   
When we think what we were like upon the earth, the ether condenses
around us 
and encloses us like an envelope. We are within those ether-like
substances 
which are drawn to us, and our thoughts of what we were like and
what we would 
be better known by, produce not only the clothing, but the
fashioning of our 
forms and features. It is here the spirit chemists step in. They
fashion 
according to their ability that ether substance quicker than
thought, and 
produce our earth features so that they may be recognized ... When
I was 
photographed ... at Los Angeles, that etherealized matter was
attracted or clung 
to me, taking on the features fashioned by my thoughts, which were,
by some 
sudden impulse or mysterious law, those of my last illness on
earth.
   
A somewhat unusual modification of this process is recounted in Mr.
J. Arthur 
Hill’s New Evidences in Psychical Research. At a sitting on Feb.
7th, 1908, the 
medium Watson said that he saw in the room the dead mother of one
of the 
sitters. He described her as attired in a brown silk dress, high in
the neck, 
trimmed with white, and having a lined or watered effect in its
texture. He said 
that there was some history attached to this dress, about which the
sitter ought 
to enquire from her sister. On enquiry from the lady mentioned they
learned that 
the old lady had ordered a dress such as that described, but it was
delivered 
only the day before she died, and so was never worn. Mr. Hill
remarks that, if 
the supposition of fraud be dismissed, this incident suggests :
   
Neither telepathy nor a rummaging among passive memories in a
cosmic reservoir, 
but rather the activity of a surviving mind, able to marshal its
earth-memories 
and to select from them for presentation to the medium such details
as will 
constitute the strongest possible evidence of identity. (p. .)
 
   
the wax glovEs
   
It would be difficult to imagine anything more effective in the way
of proof of 
the actual presence of solid materialized human forms than those
products which 
have become popularly known as the wax gloves. These are paraffin
wax moulds of 
various human members. Dr. Geley gives us a full account of a
number of seances 
in which these were produced. (Clairvoyance and Materialization,
pp. 221 to 
.) The medium for these experiments was Mr. Franek Kluski, of
Warsaw. This 
gentleman, who has been psychic from childhood, is described by Dr.
Geley as a 
member of a liberal profession, a writer and a poet, a sympathetic
and 
attractive personality, very intelligent, well educated, speaking
several 
languages, and adds that he has placed his wonderful gifts freely
and 
disinterestedly at the service first of his own compatriots and
then of the 
Metapsychic Institute, by frank devotion to science. The phenomena
are 
plentiful, including exhibitions of the primary substance and
luminous 
phenomena, materializations of human members, of human faces and
animal forms, 
and the movement of objects without apparent contact, as well as
phenomena of a 
mental order.
   
We will, however, confine ourselves here to a brief account of the
wax moulds. 
In these sittings a tank of melted paraffin wax was set upon an
electric heater, 
the materialized entity was asked to plunge a hand or foot or even
part of the 
face into the paraffin several times. This action results in the
formation of a 
closely fitting envelope, which sets quite rapidly. When the form
dematerializes 
the glove or envelope remains, and if it be desired plaster can
afterwards be 
poured into the mould, giving a perfect cast of the hand or other
member upon 
which it had been formed. In one short series of sittings nine
moulds were 
produced, of which seven were all hands, one was a foot and one a
mouth and 
chin. The following is Dr. Geley’s account of the tenth experiment
in this 
series:
   
Control was perfect — right hand held by Professor Richet and left
by Count 
Potocki. The controllers kept repeating “I am holding the right
hand,” or “I am 
holding the left hand.” After fifteen or twenty minutes splashing
was audible in 
the tank, and the hands operating, covered with warm paraffin,
touched those of 
the controllers. Before the experiment Professor Richet and I had
added some 
blue colouring matter to the paraffin, which then had a bluish
tinge. This was 
done secretly, to be an absolute proof that the moulds were made on
the spot and 
not brought ready-made into the laboratory by Franek or any other
person, and 
passed off on us by legerdemain. The operation lasted as before,
from one to two 
minutes.
   
Two admirable moulds resulted, of right and left hands of the size
of the hands 
of children five to seven years old. These were of bluish wax, the
same colour 
as that in the tank.
   
Weight of paraffin before experiment: 3 kilograms 920 grams.
   
Weight of paraffin after the experiment: 3 kilograms 800 grams.
   
Weight of the moulds: 50 grams.
   
The difference is represented by a considerable quantity of wax
scattered on the 
floor, about 15 grams near the medium and also some far from him,
31/2 yards 
distant, in a place to which he could not have gone, near the
photographic 
apparatus. We did not scratch up this last, which was adherent to
the floor, for 
weighing, but there was a good deal of it — about 25 grams. Mr.
Kluski had not 
been near that place either before or during the experiment. There
was also 
paraffin on the hands and clothes of the medium. His hands had
never been 
released from the hold of the controllers. (p. .)
   
The appearance of paraffin on Mr. Kluski’s hands and clothes
reminds us of the 
same occurrences in Mr. Crawford’s experiments in the Goligher
circle, already 
described in Chapter VII. The moulds mentioned above show hands
with fingers 
bent down, and thumbs turned over them or over the palm of the
hand, and in some 
cases two hands are shown with fingers interlocked in various ways.
For these 
and other reasons it is quite certain that the wax moulds have been
made upon 
human members afterwards dematerialized.
   
In the second series of experiments conducted at Warsaw (those
above mentioned 
took place in Paris) some of the materializations were at the same
time visible. 
Dr. Geley says:
   
We had in this case a new and hitherto unpublished proof. We had
the great 
pleasure of seeing the hands dipped into the paraffin. They were
luminous, 
bearing points of light at the finger-tips. They passed slowly before
our eyes, 
dipped into the wax, moved in it for a few seconds, came out, still
luminous, 
and deposited the glove against the hand of one of us. (p. .)
 
-------Cardiff Theosophical Society in Wales-------
206 Newport Road, Cardiff, Wales, UK. CF24-1DL                                                                       
Chapter XI
.                                                                        
OUR ATTITUDE TOWARDS SPIRITUALISM
 
   
much in common
   
“but,” some spiritualists have said to me, “we always thought that
you 
Theosophists supposed all our phenomena to be the work of
elementals, or 
fairies, or devils or something of that sort!” No Theosophist who
knows anything 
about it has ever made any such foolish assertion. What may have
been said is 
that some part of the phenomena were occasionally produced by
agencies other 
than dead men or women; and that is perfectly true. It has often
seemed to me 
that there has frequently been a good deal of entirely unnecessary
mistrust and 
misconception between Theosophists and spiritualists. Various
spiritualistic 
organs have frequently abused Theosophy in no measured terms, and
there is no 
doubt that on our side also both speakers and writers have often
referred to 
spiritualism with much scorn, but with little knowledge. But I hope
that with 
more knowledge each of the other we shall come to respect one
another more as we 
understand one another better, for we each have our part to fill in
the great 
work of the future. It would indeed be foolish of us to quarrel,
for we have 
more in common with each other than either of us has with any of
the other 
shades of opinion.
 
   
points of agreement
   
We both hold strenuously to the great central idea of man as an
immortal and 
ever-progressive being; we both know that as is his life now, so
shall it be 
after he has cast aside this body, which is his only that he may
learn through 
it; we both hold the Fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man
as fundamental 
tenets; and we both know that the gains and rewards of this world
are but as 
dross compared with the glorious certainties of the higher life
beyond the 
grave. Let us stand side by side on this common platform, and let
us postpone 
the consideration of our points of difference until we have
converted the rest 
of the world to the belief in these points upon which we agree.
Surely that is 
wise policy, for these are the points of importance; and if the
life is lived in 
accordance with these all the rest will follow.
   
We have a magnificent system of philosophy; our spiritualistic
brother does not 
care for it. Well, if his thought does not run along that line, why
should we 
seek to force it upon him? Perhaps presently he will feel the need
of some such 
system; if he does, then there it is all ready for his study. I
believe that in 
due course I shall return to live again upon this earth; herein
some of my 
spiritualistic brothers agree with me, and some do not; but, after
all, what 
does that matter? To us this doctrine of reincarnation is luminous
and helpful, 
because it seems to explain so much for which otherwise there is no
solution; 
but if another man does not yet feel the need of it, it is no part
of our policy 
to try to force it upon him.
   
We hold the idea of continued progress after death by means of
further lives 
upon this earth, after the life on subtler planes is over; the
spiritualist 
prefers the idea of passing on to other and higher spheres
altogether. We both 
agree that there is a progress hereafter; let us live so as to make
the best use 
of this existence as a preparation for that, for if we do that we
shall surely 
come out successfully, whichever of us is right as to the place of
our future 
meeting. When all the world is living its highest in the
preparation for that 
life of progress, it will be time enough to begin to argue about
where it will 
be lived.
 
   
untrained observation of little value
   
As to the spiritualistic phenomena, we have no quarrel whatever
with them; we 
know well that they take place, and we know that they have had
great value as 
demonstrating the reality of superphysical life to many a sceptical
mind. There 
are many men who seem constitutionally incapable of profiting by
the experience 
of others; they must go and see everything for themselves, not
realizing that, 
even if they do see, their untrained observations will be of
little value. On 
this point Mr. Fullerton has well said:
   
To ensure observations with any worth there must be long and
careful discipline; 
natural errors must through repeated experience be guarded against,
distinctions 
and qualifications and illusions be learned. This is true of the
physical plane; 
much more of the astral plane, where phenomena are so different,
conditions so 
unlike, misguidance so multiform. He who assumes that his untutored
observation 
for the first time of the contents and facts of the astral world
would better 
determine them than does the trained faculty of long and
accomplished students, 
presupposes really that he is an exception to universal rule,
superior to other 
men and of different mould. But what is this save a form of vanity,
a case of 
that strange delusion as to personal worth which the smallest
observation of 
human nature might have cured? It is akin to the supposition that
his first 
introduction to an unknown continent, he not being a naturalist, a
physicist, or 
a botanist, would be more conclusive in its results than the
protracted 
researches of scientists long familiar with the region and mutually
comparing 
their investigations. (The Proofs of Theosophy, p. .)
   
If a man must see for himself, and is unable to rest upon the basis
of 
intellectual conviction, by all means let him attend the
spiritualistic seance, 
and learn by experience, as so many others have done. It is not a
course that we 
should advise except to such a man as this, because there are
certain serious 
drawbacks to it from our point of view.
 
   
drawbacks
   
The greatest of these is one at which the sceptic would laugh — the
danger of 
believing too much! For if the sceptic has determination and
perseverance, he 
will assuredly be convinced sooner or later; and when he is, it is
quite likely 
that the pendulum will swing to the other extreme, and that he will
believe too 
much, instead of too little. He may readily grow to regard all the
words of the 
dead as gospel, all communications which come through the tilts of
a table as 
divinely inspired.
   
There is also another danger — that of being uncomfortably haunted.
Often there 
come to a seance most undesirable dead people, men of depraved
morals, seeking 
to gratify vicariously obscene lower passions. And besides these,
there are 
those dead men who are mad with fear, who are clutching desperately
at any and 
every opportunity to seize a physical vehicle, to get back at any
cost and by 
any means into touch with the lower life which they have lost. The
“guide” 
usually protects his medium from such influences, and will not
allow such a man 
to communicate; but he cannot prevent him from attaching himself to
other 
sitters and following them home. The sceptic may think himself
strong-minded and 
non-sensitive, and therefore proof against any such possibility;
some day he may 
be unpleasantly undeceived as to this; but even if that be so, does
he wish to 
run the risk of bringing home an influence to his wife or his
daughter? Of 
course, I fully recognize that this is only a possibility — that a
man might 
attend a score of seances and encounter nothing of this sort; yet
these things 
have happened, and they are happening even now. People driven to
the verge of 
insanity by astral persecution have come to me again and again; and
in many 
cases it was at a seance that they first encountered that ghostly
companion. The 
strong can resist; but who knows whether he is strong until he
tries?
 
   
Resolution needed
   
When, however, this unfortunate thing has already happened to a
person — when he 
already feels himself haunted or obsessed — there is only one thing
to be done, 
and that is to set the mind steadily against it in determined
resistance. 
Realize firmly that the human will is stronger than any evil
influence, and that 
you have a right to your own individuality and the use of your own
organs — a 
right to choose your company astrally as well as on the physical
plane. Assert 
this right persistently, and all will be well with you. Take
resolutely to heart 
the common sense advice given by Miss Freer, in her Essays in
Psychical 
Research:
   
If you believe yourself obsessed, if planchette swears, if your
table-raps give 
lying messages, and you fall into trances at unreasonable moments,
drop the 
subject. Get a bicycle, or learn Hebrew, or go on a walking tour,
or weed the 
garden! If you are sane, you can do as you like with your own mind;
if you can 
not, consult the staff of Colney Hatch! Want of self-restraint is
either sin or 
disease.
 
   
possibility of decepTIon
   
Then there is always the possibility of deception — not so much of
deception by 
the medium, or by any one on the physical plane, as by entities
behind. I have 
known many cases in which such deceptions were well-intentioned;
but of course 
they remain deceptions nevertheless. It may happen that one dead
man personates 
another from the best of motives — it may be simply to comfort
surviving 
relations, by taking the place of one who does not care
sufficiently, or perhaps 
is ashamed to come. Sometimes one man will take the place of
another who has 
already passed on to the heaven-world and so is out of reach, in
order that his 
surviving relations may not feel themselves neglected or abandoned.
In such a 
case it is not for us to blame him; his action may be right or it
may be wrong, 
but that is a matter exclusively for his own conscience, and we are
not called 
upon to judge him. I simply note the fact that such cases occur.
   
It must be remembered that the man who has passed on into the
heaven-world has 
left behind him his astral corpse, which is at the stage of decay
of the shade 
or of the shell, according to the time which has elapsed since he
abandoned it. 
Obviously to utilize and revivify this will be the easier way of
personating 
him, and it is therefore the plan usually adopted.
   
It is not even in the least necessary that the communicating entity
should be 
human at all; many a joyous and obliging nature-spirit is proud to
have the 
opportunity of playing the part of a being belonging to a superior
evolution, 
and will continue assuring his delighted audience that he is “so
happy” as long 
as they like to listen to him.
   
The entity who poses at a seance as Shakespeare or Julius Caesar,
as Mary Queen 
of Scots or George Washington, is usually of this class, though he
is sometimes 
also a human being of low degree, to whom it is a joy to strut even
for a few 
minutes in such borrowed plumes, to enjoy even for a single evening
the respect 
due to a well-known name. Also, if he has something to say which he
considers 
useful or important, he thinks (and quite rightly) that credulous
mortals are 
more likely to pay attention to it if it be attributed to some
distinguished 
person. His motives are often estimable, even though we cannot
approve of his 
methods.
   
There is any amount of such personation as this; it is one of the
commonest 
facts which we encounter in our researches. There is a book on
Spiritualism, for 
example, by Judge Edmonds of the Supreme Court of New York, which
consists 
chiefly of communications purporting to come from Swedenborg and
Bacon, with 
occasional observations from Washington and Charlemagne; but none
of these great 
people seem to have risen at all to the level of their earthly
reputation, and 
their remarks do not, differ appreciably from the deadly dullness
of the 
ordinary trance-address, while many of their statements are of
course wildly 
inaccurate.
   
Another fine example is the list of signatures appended to the
prolegomena of 
The Spirits’ Book, by Allan Kardec, which is as follows: “John the
Evangelist, 
St. Augustine, St. Vincent de Paul, St. Louis, the Spirit of Truth,
Socrates, 
Plato, Fenelon, Franklin, Swedenborg, etc., etc.” One wonders who
is covered by 
the mystic “etc., etc.,” and whether the other names were all that
the 
communicating entity could think of at the moment!
   
All such extravagant pretensions as these are so obviously
ridiculous that they 
are easy of detection. But when the man personated is one of
ordinary type, it 
is quite another matter; so that at a seance, unless the sitter is
himself a 
trained clairvoyant of no mean order, he simply cannot tell what it
is that he 
sees, however much he may flatter himself that his discernment is
perfect. Let 
me quote once more what I wrote some years ago in The Astral Plane,
p. .
   
A manifesting “spirit” is often exactly what it professes to be,
but often also 
is nothing of the kind; and for the ordinary sitter there is
absolutely no means 
of distinguishing the true from the false, since the extent to
which a being 
having all the resources of the astral plane at his command can
delude a person 
on the physical plane is so great that no reliance can be placed
even on what 
seems the most convincing proof.
   
If something manifests which announces itself as a man’s long-lost
brother, he 
can have no certainty that its claim is a just one. If it tells him
of some fact 
known only to that brother and to himself, he remains unconvinced,
for he knows 
that it might easily have read the information from his own mind,
or from his 
surroundings in the astral light. Even if it goes still further and
tells him 
something connected with his brother, of which he himself is
unaware, which he 
afterwards verifies, he still realizes that even this may have been
read from 
the astral records, or that what he sees before him may be only the
shade of his 
brother, and so possess his memory without in any way being
himself. It is not 
for one moment denied that important communications have sometimes
been made at 
seances by entities who in such cases have been precisely what they
said they 
were; all that is claimed is that it is quite impossible for the
ordinary person 
who visits a seance ever to be certain that he is not being cruelly
deceived in 
one or other of a dozen different ways.
   
Once more, I know that these are possibilities only, and that in
the majority of 
cases the dead man gives his name honestly enough; but the
possibilities exist 
nevertheless, and often materialize themselves into actualities.
 
   
harm to the medium
   
Another point is the harm which must to a greater or less extent be
done to the 
medium — not only the extreme physical prostration which I have
mentioned, 
leading sometimes to nervous break-down, and sometimes to excessive
use of 
stimulants in order to avoid that break-down — but also along moral
lines. Here 
I must protest emphatically against the ordinary type of paid
seances to which 
anyone may come on payment of so much per head. It places the
unfortunate medium 
in an utterly false position, and exposes him to a temptation to
which no man 
ought ever intentionally to be exposed. Anyone who knows anything
at all about 
these phenomena knows that they are erratic, that they are
dependent upon many 
causes of which as yet he knows only a few, and that therefore
sometimes they 
can be had and sometimes they cannot. This is the experience of
every 
investigator. Miss Goodrich Freer corroborates it in the preface to
her Essays 
in Psychical Research, p. vi:
   
If I know anything, I know that psychic phenomena are not to be
commanded, be 
their origin what it may . . . He who ordains the services of
Angels as well as 
of men may send His messengers — but not, I think, to produce
poltergeist 
phenomena. The veil of the future may be lifted now and then — but
not, I take 
it, at the bidding of a guinea fee in Bond Street. That we may
momentarily 
transcend time and space, the temporary conditions of our
mortality, I cannot 
doubt; but such phenomena are not to be commanded, nor of everyday
occurrence, 
nor hastily to be assumed.
   
Now if the medium is in the position of having been paid beforehand
for their 
production, and then he finds that they will not come, what is he
to do to 
satisfy all these people who are sitting round him expecting their
money’s 
worth? It is so easy to deceive them; they lend themselves to it so
readily; 
nay, it is often quite sufficient just to allow them to deceive
themselves. It 
is not fair to put any man in such a position as that; and if the
medium 
sometimes falls into cheating, it is surely not he alone who is to
blame.
 
   
haRm to the dead
   
Then there is the whole question of possible harm to the dead. I
have already 
admitted that the dead man sometimes wishes to communicate in order
to unburden 
his mind in some way, and when this is the case it is well that he
should have 
the opportunity of doing it. But these cases are comparatively
rare. If the 
dead want us they will seek to reach us; but we should invariably
let the 
movement come from their side — we should never seek to draw them
back. It may 
be said, perhaps:  “But is it
not a natural desire on the part of a mother to 
see her dead child again?” Surely it would be more natural for the
mother to be 
entirely unselfish, and to think first of what was best for the
child, before 
she considered her personal longings. In many cases communication
with the 
physical plane may do a man but little harm during the earliest
stages of his 
astral life; but it must always be remembered that in every case it
intensifies 
and prolongs his attachment to the lower levels of the plane — that
it sets up 
in him a habit of remaining closely in touch with the earth-life.
 
   
the place and woRk op spiRitualism
   
Yet, with all this, spiritualism has assuredly its place and its
work, and it 
has been of incalculable value to many thousands of men and women.
The Catholic 
Church and the Salvation Army are both sections of Christianity,
yet they appeal 
to widely different types of people, and those who are attracted by
one would 
have been little likely to come to the other. So each has its place
and its work 
to do for the broad idea of Christianity. In the same way it seems
to me that 
Theosophy and spiritualism have each their clientele. Those who
study the 
philosophy which we set before them would never have been satisfied
with the 
trance-speaking and the constantly repeated phenomena of the
spiritualistic 
seance; those who desire such phenomena, and those who yearn after
what good old 
Dr. Dee used to call 
“sermon-stuffe” would never have been happy with us, while 
they find exactly what they want in spiritualism. For among
spiritualists, as 
among any other body of men, there are several types. There are
those who are 
chiefly interested in the trance-speaking, who make this their
religion and take 
their trance-address followed by a clairvoyant reading of
surroundings every 
Sunday evening, just as mortals who are otherwise disposed go to
church or to a 
Theosophical lecture. Then there is the type whose interest is
purely personal — 
whose one and only idea in connection with the whole affair is the
gratification 
of their private and particular wish to see their own dead
relations. There is 
another type who honestly and unselfishly set themselves to the
task of trying 
to help and develop the degraded, the unevolved and the ignorant
among the dead; 
and there is no doubt that they really achieve a great deal of good
with that 
unpromising class of people. Others there are who are really
anxious to learn 
and understand scientifically the facts of the higher life; and
these people, 
while intensely delighted and interested for a time, usually find
presently that 
beyond a certain point they can get no further; and then perhaps we
can do 
something for them in Theosophy.
   
A question which is constantly asked is: “Why do not these dead men
who return 
to us with the knowledge of a higher plane teach us the doctrine of
reincarnation?” The answer is perfectly simple; first of all, some
of them do 
teach it. All spiritists of the French school of Allan Kardec hold
this doctrine 
during life, and consequently when they return after death they
have still the 
same story to tell. Those who return in England or America usually
say nothing 
about it, because they have no means of knowing anything more about
it now than 
they knew when they were upon earth. As we explained in an earlier
chapter, it 
is the soul himself in his causal body who passes from life to
life, and he has 
no more knowledge or memory of that wider existence on the astral
plane than he 
had on the physical. So he repeats only what he has known on earth,
unless he is 
so fortunate as to meet with someone who is able to teach him
something of this 
grand truth — an Oriental for example, or a Theosophist.
   
Still, even in spiritualism evidence of reincarnation occasionally
appears, as, 
for example, in Claude’s Book, by L. Kelway-Bamber, first published
in 1918, 
wherein the young British officer, communicating from the astral
plane, devotes 
a chapter to a description of the subject; and naturally it is
usually of that 
rapid type of reincarnation of which Monsieur Gabrielle Delanne
collected so 
many examples in the address which he delivered some years ago
before one of the 
spiritualistic societies. Here, for example, is a curious case,
extracted from 
the pages of The Progressive Thinker of December 13th, . It appears
in the 
form of a letter to the editor, signed with the initials S.O., and
dated 
somewhat vaguely from New Mexico.
 
   
A story OF reincarnation
   
I offer my personal experience as an absolute fact — not as
supporting any 
theory. At the time I passed through the experience (28 years ago),
I knew 
absolutely nothing of mediumship in any phase and probably had
never heard the 
word reincarnation. I was then sixteen years of age and had been
married one 
year.
   
The knowledge that I was to become a mother had just dawned upon
me, when in a 
vague way I became conscious of the almost constant presence of an
invisible 
personality. I seemed to know intuitively that my invisible
companion was a 
woman, and quite a number of years older than myself. By degrees
this presence 
grew stronger. In the third month after she first made her presence
felt, I 
could receive impressionally long messages from her. She manifested
the most 
solicitous care for my health and general welfare, and as time wore
on her voice 
became audible to me, and I enjoyed many hours of conversation with
her. She 
gave her name and nationality, with many details of her personal
history. She 
seemed anxious that I should know and love her for herself, as she
expressed it. 
She made continual efforts to become visible to me, and towards the
last 
succeeded. She was then as true a companion to me as if she had
been clothed in 
an embodiment of flesh. I had merely to draw my curtains, shrouding
the room 
in quiet tones, to have the presence manifest, both to sight and
hearing.
   
Two or three weeks before the birth of my baby she informed me that
the real 
purport of her presence was her intention to enter the new form at
its birth, in 
order to complete an earth-experience that had come to an untimely
end. I 
confess I had but a dim conception of her meaning, and was
considerably troubled 
over the matter.
   
On the night before my daughter’s birth, I saw my companion for the
last time. 
She came to me and said: “Our time is at hand; be brave and all
will be well 
with us.”
   
My daughter came, and in appearance was a perfect miniature of my
spirit friend, 
and totally unlike either family to which she belonged, and the
first remark of 
everyone on seeing her would be: 
“Why, she does not look like a baby at all. 
She looks at least twenty years old.”
   
I was greatly surprised some years later when I chanced to find in
an old work 
the story of the woman, whose name and history my spirit-friend
claimed as her 
own in her earth-life, and the fragments of her story, as she had
given them to 
me, were in accord with history, except some personal details not
likely to have 
been known to anyone else. All this experience I kept to myself as
a profound 
secret, for, young as I was, I realized what judgement the world
would place 
upon the narrator of such a story.
   
Once when my daughter was in her fifteenth year, the first name of
my 
spirit-friend happened to be mentioned in her presence. She turned
to me quickly 
with a look of surprise on her face and said:  “Mamma, didn’t my papa call me by 
this name?” (Her father died when she was one year old.) I
said:  “No, dear, you 
were never called this name.” She replied: “Well, I surely remember
it, and 
somebody somewhere called me by it.”
   
In conclusion I will add that in character my daughter is very much
like the 
historic character of the woman whose spirit said she would inhabit
the new 
form.
   
These are my facts. I offer no explanation; if they chance to fit
anybody’s 
theory, so much the better for the theory. Theories usually need
some facts to 
prop them up; facts are independent and able to stand on their own
feet.
   
Madame d’Espérance, who seems to be in so many respects in advance
of the 
majority of mediums, appears to have been taught not only
reincarnation but much 
other Theosophical doctrine by one of her dead friends, as is set
forth in her 
book Shadowland. Perhaps the most striking incident in that very
interesting 
work is the occasion on which the author leaves her body and is
shown a 
remarkable symbolical vision of her life; for in that one
experience her eyes 
are opened to the doctrine of cause arid effect, of evolution and
reincarnation, 
and to the absolute realization of the fundamental unity of all,
however dimly 
and imperfectly it may be expressed. For the law of cause and
effect is involved 
in the statement made by the spirit-friend as to the path of life:
“It is the 
road you have made; you have no other”. Evolution is taught when
she is shown 
“that it is the same life which, circling for ever and ever through
form after 
form, dwelling in the rocks, the sand, the sea, in each blade of
grass, each 
tree, each flower, in all forms of animal existence, culminates in
man’s 
intelligence and perception.”
   
As to reincarnation she remarks :
   
I could see that the fact of the spirit first taking on itself the
form of man 
did not bring it to its utmost earthly perfection, for there are
many degrees of 
man. In the savage it widens its experience and finds a new field
for education, 
which being exhausted, another step is taken; and so step by step,
in an ever 
onward, progressive, expansive direction the spirit develops, the
decay of the 
forms which the spirit employs being only the evidence that they
have fulfilled 
their mission, and served the purpose for which they were used.
They return to 
their original elements, to be used again and again as a means
whereby the 
spirit can manifest itself, and obtain the development it requires.
(p 376).
   
M. L. Chevreuil’s book Proofs of the Spirit World contains a chapter
entitled 
“Previous Lives”, in which he vigorously supports the truth of
reincarnation. 
He says:
   
The soul is an entity distinct from the body; it accompanies the
essential part 
of the human being in the course of the numerous incarnations
necessary to our 
evolution. From the time of Plato the majority of men have lived in
the 
knowledge of this truth, and tomorrow they will dwell in scientific
certainty 
that this ancient philosophy has not deceived them. (p. .)
   
He describes at considerable length some of the labours of M. de
Rochas upon the 
regression of memory. M. Chevreuil explains that every subject
describes in the 
same manner his or her going back to the past:
   
They are transported back to six months of age, two months, into
the body of the 
mother, where they take the position of the foetus; the regression
is continued 
and they are in space. A brief lethargy, and we are present at a
new scene, the 
death of an old person. It is the beginning of the life which
preceded the 
present incarnation, manifesting itself backwards, and continuing
back to a 
still older incarnation. (p. .)
   
Considering the mode of the “spirit’s” coming to birth, M.
Chevreuil says that 
the vision described is always the same, that before birth the
subject sees 
himself in space in the form of a ball or as a slightly luminous
mist, and sees 
in the mother’s womb the body in which he is to be incarnated; all
agree, he 
adds, that the spiritual body enters little by little, and that the
complete 
incorporation occurs at about seven years of age.
 
   
reincarnations in india and japan
   
Rao Bahadur Shyam Sundar Lal, C. I. E., a distinguished Minister of
the Gwalior 
and Alwar States, has devoted many years to the study of
reincarnation. Among 
the evidence collected by him is a case which was recounted as
follows in The 
New York Times, September 16th, 1923:
   
Within the Maharajah of Bharatpur’s extensive territory was found a
boy of four 
years, Prabhu by name, the son of a Brahman called Khairti, who
with childish 
prattle and laughter told with the greatest detail of his supposed
former 
existence. He gave his former name, the year of his other birth,
his personal 
appearance on his earlier visit to this earth, and recounted
events, such as 
famines, which had happened more than fifty years before his last
birth. He told 
of his former wife, his daughters and his sons, giving their names
and the money 
he received on their marriages, and described his former home and
neighbours.
   
The child, the savants vouch, had not been tutored and had no means
outside of 
himself to learn of these details, or to know anything of the
transmigration of 
souls. The neighbourhoods he described were visited by the savants,
with the 
child, and in nearly every detail his statements were found to be
correct, even 
to the names of his supposed former children and wife. He had some
difficulty in 
locating his supposed former home, but this, it was claimed, may be
accounted 
for by the fact that it is now a mass of ruins and much different
from what it 
had been.
   
A somewhat similar account, but coming this time from Japan,
appears in Lafcadio 
Hearn’s Gleanings in Buddha Fields, Chapter X, and is entitled “The
Rebirth of 
Katsugoro”. Mr. Hearn cites it as a good illustration of the common
ideas of the 
people of Japan concerning pre-existence and rebirth. He takes it
from a series 
of documents, very much signed and sealed by various officials,
Priests and 
Daimyos. The full story is translated as follows.
   
Some time in the eleventh month of the past year, when Katsugoro
was playing in 
the rice-field with his elder sister, Fusa, he asked her, —
   
“Elder Sister, where did you come from before you were born into
our household?”
   
Fusa answered him: —
   
“How can I know what happened to me before I was born?”
   
Katsugoro looked surprised and exclaimed:
   
“Then you cannot remember anything that happened before you were
born?”
   
“Do you remember?” asked Fusa.
   
“Indeed I do,” replied Katsugoro. “I used to be the son of Kyubei
San of 
Hodokubo, and my name was then Tozo — do you not know all that?”
   
“Ah!” said Fusa, “I shall tell father and mother about it.”
   
But Katsugoro at once began to cry, and said:
   
“Please do not tell! — it would not be good to tell father and
mother.”
   
Fusa made answer, after a little while :—
   
“Well, this time I shall not tell. But the next time that you do
anything 
naughty, then I will tell.”
   
After that day whenever a dispute arose between the two, the sister
would 
threaten the brother, saying: “Very well, then — I shall tell that
thing to 
father and mother.” At these words the boy would always yield to
his sister. 
This happened many times; and the parents one day overheard Fusa
making her 
threat. Thinking Katsugoro must have been doing something wrong,
they desired to 
know what the matter was, and Fusa, being questioned, told them the
truth. Then 
Genzo and his wife, and Tsuya, the grandmother of Katsugoro,
thought it a very 
strange thing. They called Katsugoro, therefore; and tried, first
by coaxing, 
and then by threatening, to make him tell what he had meant by
those words.
   
After hesitation, Katsugoro said: — “I will tell you everything. I
used to be 
the son of Kyubei San of Hodokubo, and the name of my mother then
was O-Shidzu 
San. When I was five years old, Kyubei San died; and there came in
his place a 
man called Hanshiro San, who loved me very much. But in the
following year, when 
I was six years old, I died of smallpox. In the third year after
that I entered 
mother’s honorable womb, and was born again.”
   
The parents and the grandmother of the boy wondered greatly at
hearing this, and 
they decided to make all possible inquiry as to the man called
Hanshiro of 
Hodokubo. But as they all had to work very hard every day to earn a
living, and 
so could spare but little time for any other matter, they could not
at once 
carry out their intention.
   
Now, Sei, the mother of Katsugoro, had nightly to suckle her little
daughter 
Tsune, who was four years old; — and Katsugoro therefore slept with
his 
grandmother, Tsuya. Sometimes he used to talk to her in bed; and
one night when 
he was in a very confiding mood, she persuaded him to tell her what
happened at 
the time when he had died. Then he said: — “Until I was four years
old I used to 
remember everything; but since then I have become more and more
forgetful; and 
now I forget many, many things. But I still remember that I died of
smallpox; I 
remember that I was put into a jar; I remember that I was buried on
a hill. 
There was a hole made in the ground; and the people let the jar
drop into that 
hole. It fell pon! I remember that sound well. Then somehow I
returned to the 
house, and I stopped on my own pillow there. In a short time some
old man — 
looking like a grandfather — came and took me away. I do not know
who or what he 
was. As I walked I went through empty air as if flying. I remember
it was 
neither night nor day as we went; it was always like sunset-time. I
did not feel 
either warm or cold or hungry. We went very far, I think; but still
I could hear 
always, faintly, the voices of people talking at home; and the
sound of the 
Nembutsu being said for me. I remember also that when the people at
home set 
offerings of hot rice-cake before the household shrine, I inhaled
the vapour of 
the offerings. Grandmother, never forgot to offer warm food to the
honorable 
dead (Hotoke Same), and do not forget to give to priests — I am
sure it is very 
good to do these things ... After that, I only remember that the
old man led me 
by some roundabout way to this place — I remember we passed the
road beyond the 
village. Then we came here, and he pointed to this house, and said
to me:  ‘Now 
you must be reborn, for it is three years since you died. You are
to be reborn 
in that house. The person who will become your grandmother is very
kind; so it 
will be well for you to be conceived and born there.’ After saying
this, the old 
man went away. I remained a little time under the kaki-tree before
the entrance 
of this house. Then I was going to enter when I heard talking
inside: some one 
said that because father was now earning so little, mother would
have to go to 
service in Yedo. I thought, “I will not go into that house”; and I
stopped three 
days in the garden. On the third day it was decided that, after
all, mother 
would not have to go to Yedo. The same night I passed into the
house through a 
knot-hole in the sliding-shutters; — and after that I stayed for
three days 
beside the kitchen range. Then I entered mother’s honorable womb
... I remember 
that I was born without any pain at all. —Grandmother, you may
tell this to 
father and mother, but please never tell it to anybody else.”
   
The grandmother told Genzo and his wife what Katsugoro had related
to her; and 
after that the boy was not afraid to speak freely with his parents
on the 
subject of his former existence, and would often say to them: “I
want to go to 
Hodokubo. Please let me make a visit to the tomb of Kyubei San.”
Genzo ... asked 
his mother Tsuya, on the twentieth day of the first month of this
year, to take 
her grandson there.
   
Tsuya went with Katsugoro to Hodokubo; and when they entered the
village she 
pointed to the nearer dwellings, and asked the boy, “Which house is
it? — is it 
this house or that one?” “No,” answered Katsugoro, — “it is further
on — much 
further,” — and he hurried before her. Reaching a certain dwelling
at last, he 
cried, “This is the house!” — and ran in, without waiting for his
grandmother. 
Tsuya followed him in, and asked the people there what was the name
of the owner 
of the house. “Hanshiro,” one of them answered. She asked the name
of Hanshiro’s 
wife. “Shidzu,” was the reply. Then she asked whether there had
ever been a son 
called Tozo born in that house. “Yes,” was the answer; “but that
boy died 
thirteen years ago, when he was six years old.”
   
Then for the first time Tsuya was convinced that Katsugoro had
spoken the truth; 
and she could not help shedding tears. She related to the people of
the house 
all that Katsugoro had told her about his remembrance of his former
birth. Then 
Hanshiro and his wife wondered greatly. They caressed Katsugoro and
wept; and 
they remarked that he was much handsomer now than he had been as
Tozo before 
dying at the age of six. In the meantime, Katsugoro was looking all
about; and 
seeing the roof of a tobacco shop opposite to the house of
Hanshiro, he pointed 
to it, and said: “That used not to be there.” And he also said, —
“The tree 
yonder used not to be there.” All this was true. So from the minds
of Hanshiro 
and his wife every doubt departed.
 
   
reincarnations in burma
   
Some interesting cases are mentioned by Mr. H. Fielding-Hall in his
charming 
book on Burma, The Soul of a People. He writes:
   
A friend of mine once put up for the night at a monastery far away
in the 
forest, near a small village. Talking in the evening round the
fire, he remarked 
that the monastery was very large and fine for so small a village;
it was built 
of the best and straightest teak, which must have been brought from
very far 
away; it must have taken a long time and a great deal of labour to
build.
   
In explanation he heard a curious story. It appeared that in the
old days there 
used to be only a bamboo and grass monastery there, such as most
jungle villages 
have; and the then monk was distressed at the smallness of his
abode and the 
little accommodation there was for his school (for a monastery is
always a 
school). So one rainy season he planted with great care a number of
teak 
seedlings round about, and he watered and cared for them.
   
“When they are grown up,” he would say, “these teak-trees shall
provide timber 
for a new and proper building; and I myself will return in another
life, and 
with those trees I will build a monastery more worthy than this.”
   
Teak-trees take a hundred years to reach a mature size, and while
the trees were 
still but saplings the monk died and another monk taught in his
stead. And so it 
went on, and the years rolled by, and from time to time new
monasteries of 
bamboo were built-and rebuilt, and the teak-trees grew bigger and
bigger. But 
the village grew smaller, for the times were troubled, and the
village was far 
away in the forest. So it happened that at last the village found
itself without 
a monk at all; the last monk was dead, and no one came to take his
place.
   
It is a serious thing for a village to have no monk. To begin with,
there is no 
one to teach the lads to read and write and do arithmetic; and
there is no one 
to whom you can give offerings and thereby acquire merit, and there
is no one to 
preach to you and tell you of the sacred teaching. So the village
was in a bad 
way.
   
Then at last one evening, when the girls were all out at the well
drawing water, 
they were surprised by the arrival of a monk from the forest, weary
with a long 
journey, footsore and hungry. The villagers received him with
enthusiasm, and 
furnished up the old monastery in a hurry for him to sleep. But the
curious 
thing was that the monk seemed to know it all. He knew the
monastery and the 
path to it, and the ways about the village, and the names of the
hills and the 
streams. It seemed as though he must have lived there in the
village, and yet no 
one knew him or recognized his face, though he was but a young man
still, and 
there were villagers who had lived there for seventy years. Next
morning the 
monk came into the village with his begging-bowl, as monks do, and
collected his 
food for the day: and that evening, when the villagers went to see
him, he told 
them he was going to stay. He recalled to them the monk who had
planted the 
teak-trees, and how he had said that when the trees were grown he
would return.
   
“I,” said the young monk, “am he who planted these trees. Lo, they
are grown up 
and I have returned, and now we will build a monastery as I said.”
   
When the villagers, doubting, questioned him, and old men came and
talked to him 
of traditions of long-past days, he answered as one who knew all.
He told them 
he had been born and educated far away in the South, and had grown
up not 
knowing who he had been; then he had entered a monastery, and in
due time became 
a Pongyi. The remembrance came to him, he went on, in a dream of
how he had 
planted the trees and had promised to return to that village far
away in the 
forest.
   
The very next day he had started, and travelled day after day and
week upon 
week, till at length he had arrived, as they saw. So the villagers
were 
convinced, and they set to work and cut down the great boles, and
built the 
monastery which my friend saw. And the monk lived there all his
life, and taught 
the children, and preached the marvellous teaching of the great
Buddha, till at 
length his time came again and he returned; for of monks it is not
said that 
they die, but that they return.....
   
About fifty years ago in a village called Okshitgon were born two
children, a 
boy and a girl. They were born on the same day in neighbouring
houses, and they 
grew up together and played together, and loved each other. In due
course they 
married and started a family, and maintained themselves by
cultivating the 
fields about the village. They were always known as devoted to each
other, and 
they died as they had lived — together. The same death took them on
the same 
day; so they were buried without the village and were forgotten,
for the times 
were serious ... Okshitgon was in the midst of one of the most
distressed 
districts, and many of its people fled; and one of them, a man
named Maung Kan, 
went with his young wife to the village of Kabyu and lived there.
   
Now, Maung Kan’s wife had borne to him twin sons. They were born at
Okshitgon 
shortly before their parents had to run away, and they were named,
the first 
Maung Gyi (which means Brother Big-fellow) and the second Maung Ngé
(which means 
Brother Little-fellow). These lads grew up at Kabyu, and soon
learnt to talk; 
and their parents were surprised to hear them calling to each other
at play, not 
as Maung Gyi and Maung Ngé, but as Maung San Nyein and Ma Gywin.
The latter is a 
woman’s name, and the parents remembered that these were the names
of the man 
and wife who had died at Okshitgon about the time the children were
born.
   
So the parents thought that the souls of the man and wife had
entered into the 
children, and they took them to Okshitgon to try them. The children
knew 
everything in Okshitgon; they knew the roads, the houses and the
people, and 
they recognized the clothes they used to wear in the former life:
there was no 
doubt about it. One of them, the younger, remembered how she had
borrowed two 
rupees once from a woman, Ma Thet, unknown to her husband, and left
the debt 
unpaid. Ma Thet was still living, so they asked her, and she
recollected that it 
was true she had lent the money long ago....
   
Shortly afterwards I saw these two children. They were then just
over six years 
old. The elder, into whom the soul of the man entered, is a fat,
chubby little 
fellow, but the younger twin is smaller, and has a curious dreamy
look in his 
face, more like a girl than a boy. They told me much about their
former lives. 
After they died they said they lived for some time without a body
at all, 
wandering in the air and hiding in the trees. Then, after some
months they were 
born again as twin boys. “It used to be so clear,” said the elder
boy, “I could 
remember everything; but it is getting duller and duller, and I
cannot now 
remember as I used to do.”
   
Another little boy told me once that the way remembrance came to
him was by 
seeing the silk he used to wear made into curtains, which are given
to the monks 
and used as partitions in their monasteries, and as walls to
temporary erections 
made at festival times. He was taken when some three years old to a
feast at the 
making of the son of a wealthy merchant into a monk. There he
recognized in the 
curtain walling in part of the bamboo building his old dress, and
pointed it out 
at once.*
   
__________
·       Op. cit., p. 291 et
seq.
 
   
Most of the examples of reincarnation given above are taken from
Oriental 
countries — not because the great law of rebirth is operative only
in those 
lands, but because for various reasons it is easier to trace its
action there. 
The law is universal, but the interval between lives differs
widely. For some it 
is a matter of many centuries; for others it may be only a few
months, or even 
days. With the Burmese, as we have just seen from Mr. Fielding
Hall’s account, 
very short intervals seem to be the rule, and the Burman evidently
has also the 
peculiarity that he usually takes birth over and over again in the
same race 
before transferring himself to another. These two habits of his are
specially 
convenient for the student of reincarnation who, by researches
among that race, 
can readily convince himself of the truth of the general principle
before 
extending his inquiries into other fields where the investigation
is more 
difficult.
   
There is plenty of testimony available of quite another kind, for
there are a 
certain number of people who have a clear memory of at least some
of their own 
former births; and it is sometimes possible for those who have
lived 
simultaneously in the past to compare notes, and so obtain some
sort of 
verification of their recollections. I remember once, years ago,
when I had 
given a lecture upon reincarnation to an Indian audience, and asked
at the 
conclusion of it for questions on any point which I had not made
quite clear, a 
highly-cultured Indian gentleman rose, and with the utmost courtesy
said:
   
“Sir, this theory of reincarnation is familiar to us from
childhood; we all of 
us begin by accepting it, and it is only when we grow up and absorb
your 
European culture that we come to doubt it. Have you any objection
to telling us 
how it happens that you, an Englishman, whose education and
surroundings must 
have been so entirely different, are able to speak to us so
convincingly and 
with such apparent certainty on this subject?”
   
I in my turn put a question to him: “Do you wish me to rehearse for
you the 
stock arguments which show so conclusively that reincarnation is
the only 
rational theory of life, the only hypothesis which enables us to
account in any 
degree equitably for the conditions which we see around us? Or do
you want me to 
unveil something of my own inner life, and give you my real
reason?”
   
He replied: “Sir, if I may venture to put so intimate, so almost
impertinent a 
question (though I assure you that it is not asked impertinently)
it is 
precisely that real inner reason that it would mean so much to me
to hear.”
   
Seeing how genuine and how serious was his query, I answered him
openly: “Very 
well then,” I said, “I speak definitely and certainly about
reincarnation 
because I know it to be a fact, because I can clearly remember a
large number of 
my own past births, and in the case of some of them I have been
able to satisfy 
myself by exterior evidence that my recollection is accurate. But
of course 
that, however satisfactory to me, is no proof to you.”
   
He thanked me heartily, assuring me that that was exactly what he
had wanted to 
hear.
 
-------Cardiff Theosophical Society in Wales-------
206 Newport Road, Cardiff, Wales, UK. CF24-1DL                                                                       
Chapter XII
.                                                                     
   
CONCLUSION
   
I have tried to describe the life on the other side of death just
as it is, just 
as it is seen to be by those who, taking part in it (as we all do
every night of 
our earthly lives) have unfolded within themselves the power to
remember clearly 
what they see and do, so that to them it is familiar, simple,
straightforward — 
part of their everyday existence. And I have gathered together from
many sources 
a large number of illustrative cases, a vast amount of concurrent
testimony to 
show you that the account I give is not a dream or a hallucination,
but a plain 
statement of the facts as commonly experienced.
   
For those who are able to accept this, all fear of death should be
eradicated, 
all grief for those whom we call the dead should automatically
cease. Yet so 
strong is this ingrained habit of mourning, so firmly implanted
within us is 
this hereditary, though baseless, sense of separation, that even
those who 
intellectually grasp the truth, who fully believe all that is
written herein, 
may at times find themselves slipping back under its influence into
that old and 
harmful  attitude of
despondency, of longing, of never-fading regret.
   
So sad is this, so injurious both to the living and the dead, that
I feel it my 
duty to close this book with a final and urgent appeal to my
readers to raise 
themselves once and forever above the possibility of any such
relapse, to take 
their stand firmly in God’s sunlight, and never for a moment allow
it to be 
obscured by man-made clouds of doubt or fear. To the man, then,
whose sky is 
dark because one whom he loves deeply has left this physical world,
I would 
address myself thus:
 
   
an earnest appeal
   
My brother, you have lost by death one whom you loved dearly — one
who perhaps 
was all the world to you; and so to you that world seems empty, and
life no 
longer worth the living. You feel that joy has left you for ever —
that 
existence can be for you henceforth nothing but hopeless sadness —
naught but 
one aching longing for “the touch of a vanished hand and the sound
of a voice 
that is still”. You are thinking chiefly of yourself and your
intolerable loss; 
but there is also another sorrow. Your grief is aggravated by your
uncertainty 
as to the present condition of your beloved; you feel that he has
gone you know 
not where. You hope earnestly that all is well with him, but when
you look 
upward all is void; when you cry, there is no answer. And so
despair and doubt 
overwhelm you, and make a cloud that hides from you the Sun which
never sets.
   
Your feeling is most natural; I who write understand it perfectly,
and my heart 
is full of sympathy for all those who are afflicted as you are. But
I hope that 
I can do more than sympathize; I hope that I can bring you help and
relief. Such 
help and relief have come to thousands who were in your sad case.
Why should 
they not come to you also?
   
You say: “How can there be relief or hope for me?” 
   
There is the hope of relief for you because your sorrow is founded
on 
misapprehension; you are grieving for something which has not
really happened. 
When you understand the facts you will cease to grieve.
   
You answer: “My loss is a fact. How can you help me — unless,
indeed, you give 
me back my dead?”
   
I understand your feeling perfectly; yet bear with me for awhile,
and try to 
grasp three main propositions which I am about to put before you —
at first 
merely as broad statements, and then in convincing detail.
   
Your loss is only an apparent fact — apparent from your point of
view. I want to 
bring you to another view-point. Your suffering is the result of a
great 
delusion — of ignorance of Nature’s law; let me help you on the
road towards 
knowledge by explaining a few simple truths which you can study
further at your 
leisure.
   
You need be under no uneasiness or uncertainty with regard to the
condition of 
your loved one, for the life after death is no longer a mystery.
The world 
beyond the grave exists under the same natural laws as this which we
know, and 
has been explored and examined with scientific accuracy.
   
You must not mourn, for your mourning does harm to your loved one.
If you can 
once open your mind to the truth, you will mourn no more.
   
Before you can understand your lost friend’s condition you must
understand your 
own. Try to grasp the fact that you are an immortal being, immortal
because you 
are divine in essence — because you are a spark from God’s own
Fire; that you 
lived for ages before you put on this vesture which you call a
body, and that 
you will live for ages after it has crumbled into dust. “God made
man to be an 
image of His own eternity.” This is not a guess or a pious belief,
it is a 
definite scientific fact, capable of proof, as you may see from the
literature 
of the subject if you will take the trouble to read it. What you
have been 
considering as your life is in truth only one day of your real life
as a soul, 
and the same is true of your beloved; therefore, he is not dead —
it is only his 
body that is cast aside.
   
Yet you must not, therefore, think of him as a mere bodiless
breath, as in any 
way less himself than he was before. As St. Paul said long ago:
“There is a 
natural body, and there is a spiritual body.” People misunderstand
that remark, 
because they think of these bodies as successive, and do not
realize that we all 
of us possess both of them even now. You, as you read this, have
both a 
“natural” or physical body, which you can see, and another inner
body, which you 
cannot see, that which St. Paul called the “spiritual”. And when
you lay aside 
the physical, you still retain the other finer vehicle; you are
clothed in your 
“spiritual body”. If we symbolize the physical body as an overcoat
or cloak, we 
may think of this spiritual body as the ordinary house-coat which
the man wears 
underneath that outer garment.
   
If that idea is by this time clear to you, let us advance another
step. It is 
not only at what you call death that you doff that overcoat of
dense matter; 
every night when you go to sleep you slip it off for awhile, and
roam about the 
world in your spiritual body — invisible as far as this dense world
is 
concerned, but clearly visible to those friends who happen to be
using their 
spiritual bodies at the same time. For each body sees only that
which is on its 
own level; your physical body sees only other physical bodies, your
spiritual 
body sees only other spiritual bodies. When you resume your
overcoat — that is 
to say, when you come back to your denser body. and wake up (or
down) to this 
lower world — it occasionally happens that you have some recollection,
though 
usually considerably distorted, of what you have seen when you were
away 
elsewhere; and then you call it a vivid dream. Sleep, then, may be
described as 
a kind of temporary death, the difference being that you do not
withdraw 
yourself so entirely from your overcoat as to be unable to resume
it. It follows 
that when you sleep, you enter the same condition as that into
which your 
beloved has passed. What that condition is I will now proceed to
explain.
   
Many theories have been current as to the life after death — most
of them based 
upon misunderstandings of ancient scriptures. At one time the
horrible dogma of 
what was called everlasting punishment was almost universally
accepted in 
Europe, though none but the hopelessly ignorant believe it now. It
was based 
upon a mistranslation of certain words attributed to Christ, and it
was 
maintained by the mediaeval monks as a convenient bogey with which
to frighten 
the ignorant masses into well-doing. As the world advanced in
civilization, men 
began to see that such a tenet was not only blasphemous, but
ridiculous. Modern 
religionists have, therefore, replaced it by somewhat saner suggestions;
but 
they are usually quite vague and far from the simplicity of the
truth.
   
All the Churches have complicated their doctrines because they
insisted upon 
starting with an absurd and unfounded dogma of a cruel and angry
Deity who 
wished to injure His people. They import this dreadful idea from
primitive 
Judaism, instead of accepting the teaching of Christ that God is a
loving 
Father. People who have grasped the fundamental fact that God is
Love, and that 
His universe is governed by wise eternal laws, have begun to
realize that those 
laws must be obeyed in the world beyond the grave just as much as
in this. But 
even yet beliefs are vague. We are told of a far-away heaven, of a
day of 
judgement in the remote future, but little information is given us
as to what 
happens here and now. Those who teach do not even pretend to have
any personal 
experience of after-death conditions. They tell us not what they
themselves 
know, but only what they have heard from others. How can that
satisfy us?
   
The truth is that the day of blind belief is past; the era of
scientific 
knowledge is with us, and we can no longer accept ideas unsustained
by reason 
and common-sense. There is no reason why scientific methods should
not be 
applied to the elucidation of problems which in earlier days were
left entirely 
to religion; indeed, such methods have been applied by the
Theosophical Society 
and the Society for Psychical Research; and it is the result of
those 
investigations, made in a scientific spirit, that I wish to place
before you 
now.
   
Let us consider the life which the dead are leading. In it there
are many and 
great variations, but at least it is almost always happier than the
earth-life. 
As an old scripture puts it: “The souls of the righteous are in the
hand of God, 
and there shall no torment touch them. In the sight of the unwise
they seem to 
die, and their departure is taken for misery, and their going from
us to be 
utter destruction; but they are in peace.”* We must disabuse
ourselves of 
antiquated theories; the dead man does not leap suddenly into an
impossible 
heaven, nor does he fall into a still more impossible hell. There
is indeed no 
hell in the old wicked sense of the word; and there is no hell
anywhere in any 
sense except such as a man makes for himself. Try to understand
clearly that 
death makes no change in the man; he does not suddenly become a
great saint or 
angel, nor is he suddenly endowed with all the wisdom of the ages;
he is just 
the same man the day after his death as he was the day before it,
with the same 
emotions, the same disposition, the same intellectual development.
The only 
difference is that he has lost the physical body.
   
__________
·       Wisdom of Solomon,
iii, .
 
   
In this spiritual world no money is necessary, food and shelter are
no longer 
needed, for its glory and its beauty are free to all its inhabitants
without 
money and without price. In its rarefied matter, in the spiritual
body, a man 
can move hither and thither as he will; if he loves the beauteous
landscape of 
forest and sea and sky, he may visit at his pleasure all earth’s
fairest spots; 
if he loves art he may spend the whole of his time in the
contemplation of the 
masterpieces of all the greatest painters, and may himself produce
masterpieces 
by the exercise of the wonderful magic of his thought-power; if he
be a 
musician, he may pass from one to the other of the world’s chiefest
orchestras, 
he may spend his time in listening to the most celebrated performers,
or with 
the willing aid of the great Angels of music he may himself give
forth such 
strains as are never heard on earth.
   
Whatever has been his particular delight on earth — his hobby, as
we should say 
— he has now the fullest liberty to devote himself to it entirely
and to follow 
it out to the utmost, provided only that its enjoyment is that of
the intellect 
or of the higher emotions — that its gratification does not
necessitate the 
possession of a physical body. Thus it will be seen at once that
all rational 
and decent men are infinitely happier after death than before it,
for they have 
ample time not only for pleasure, but for really satisfactory
progress along the 
lines which interest them most.
   
Are there then none in that world who are unhappy? Yes, for that
life is 
necessarily a sequel to this, and the man is in every respect the
same man as he 
was before he left his body. If his enjoyments in this world were
low and 
coarse, he will find himself unable in that world to gratify his
desires. A 
drunkard will suffer from unquenchable thirst, having no longer a
body through 
which it can be assuaged; the glutton will miss the pleasures of
the table; the 
miser will no longer find gold for his gathering. The man who has
yielded 
himself during earth-life to unworthy passions will find them still
gnawing at 
his vitals. The sensualist still palpitates with cravings that can
never now be 
satisfied; the jealous man is still torn by his jealousy, all the
more that he 
can no longer interfere with the action of its object. Such people
as these 
unquestionably do suffer — but only such as these, only those whose
proclivities 
and passions have been coarse and physical in their nature. And
even they have 
their fate absolutely in their own hands. They have but to conquer
these 
inclinations, and they are at once free from the suffering which
such longings 
entail. Remember always that there is no such thing as punishment;
there is only 
the natural result of a definite cause; so that you have only to
remove the 
cause and the effect ceases — not always immediately, but as soon
as the energy 
of the cause is exhausted.
   
“Do the dead then see us?” it may be asked; “do they hear what we
say?” 
Undoubtedly they see us in the sense that they are always conscious
of our 
presence, that they know whether we are happy or miserable; but
they do not hear 
the words that we say, nor are they conscious in detail of our
physical actions. 
A moment’s thought will show us what are the limits of their power
to see. They 
are inhabiting what we have called the “spiritual body” — a body
which exists in 
ourselves, and is, as far as appearance goes, an exact duplicate of
the physical 
body; but while we are awake our consciousness is focussed
exclusively in the 
latter. We have already said that just as only physical matter
appeals to the 
physical body, so only the matter of the spiritual world is
discernible by that 
higher body. Therefore, what the dead man can see of us is only our
spiritual 
body, which, however, he has no difficulty in recognizing.
   
When we are what we call asleep, our consciousness is using that
vehicle, and 
so to the dead man we are awake; but when we transfer our consciousness
to the 
physical body, it seems to the dead man that we fall asleep,
because though he 
still sees us, we are no longer paying any attention to him to able
to 
communicate with him. When a living-friend falls asleep we are
quite aware of 
his presence, but for the moment we cannot communicate with him
unless we arouse 
him. Precisely similar is the condition of the living man (while he
is awake) in 
the eyes of the dead. Because we cannot usually remember in our
waking 
consciousness what we have seen during sleep, we are under the
delusion that we 
have lost our dead; but they are never under the delusion that they
have lost 
us, because they can see us all the time. To them the only difference
is that 
we are with them during the night and away from them during the
day; whereas, 
when they were on earth with us, exactly the reverse was the case.
   
All life is evolving, for evolution is God’s law; and man grows
slowly and 
steadily along with the rest. What is commonly called man’s life
is, in reality, 
only one day of his true and longer life. Just as in this ordinary
life man 
rises each morning, puts on his clothes, and goes forth to do his
daily work, 
and then when night descends he lays aside those clothes and takes
his rest, and 
then again on the following morning rises afresh to take up his
work at the 
point where he left it — just so when the man comes into the
physical life he 
puts upon him the vesture of the physical body, and when his
work-time is over 
he lays aside that vesture again in what you call death, and passes
into the 
more restful condition which I have described; and when that rest
is over he 
puts upon himself once more the garment of the body, and goes forth
yet again to 
begin a new day of physical life, taking up his evolution at the
point where he 
left it. And this long life of his lasts until he attains that goal
of divinity 
which God means him to attain.
   
One of the saddest cases of apparent loss is when a child passes
away from this 
physical world and its parents are left to watch its empty place,
to miss its 
loving prattle. What then happens to children in this strange new
spiritual 
world? Of all those who enter it, they are perhaps the happiest and
the most 
entirely and immediately at home. Remember that they do not lose
the parents, 
the brothers, the sisters, the playmates whom they love; it is
simply that they 
have them as companions during what we call the night instead of
the day; so 
that they have no feeling of loss or separation.
   
During our day they are never left alone, for there as here,
children gather 
together and play together — play in Elysian fields full of rare
delights. We 
know how here a child enjoys “making believe”, pretending to be
this character 
or that in history — playing the principal parts in all sorts of
wonderful fairy 
stories or tales of adventure. In the finer matter of that higher
world thoughts 
take to themselves visible form, and so the child who imagines
himself a certain 
hero promptly takes on temporarily the actual appearance of that
hero. If he 
wishes for an enchanted castle, his thought can build that
enchanted castle. If 
he desires an army to command, at once that army is there. And so
among the dead 
the hosts of children are always full of joy — indeed, often even
riotously 
happy.
   
If you have been able to assimilate what I have already said, you
will now 
understand that, however natural it may be for us to feel sorrow at
the death of 
our relatives, that sorrow is an error and an evil, and we ought to
overcome it. 
There is no need to sorrow for them, for they have passed into a
far wider and 
happier life. If we sorrow for our own fancied separation from
them, we are, in 
the first place, weeping over an illusion, for in truth they are
not separated 
from us; and, secondly, we are acting selfishly, because we are
thinking more of 
our own apparent loss than of their great and real gain. We must
strive to be 
utterly unselfish, as indeed all love should be. We must think of
them and not 
of ourselves — not of what we wish or we feel, but solely of what
is best for 
them and most helpful to their progress.
   
If we mourn, if we yield to gloom and depression, we throw out from
ourselves a 
heavy cloud which darkens the sky for them. Their very affection
for us, their 
very sympathy for us, lay them open to this direful influence. We
can use the 
power which that affection gives us to help them instead of
hindering them, if 
we only will; but to do that requires courage and self-sacrifice. We
must forget 
ourselves utterly in our earnest and loving desire to be of the
greatest 
possible assistance to our dead. Every thought, every feeling of
ours influences 
them; let us then take care that there shall be no thought which is
not broad 
and helpful, ennobling and purifying.
   
If it is probable that they may be feeling some anxiety about us,
let us be 
persistently cheerful, that we may assure them that they have no
need to feel 
trouble on our account. If, during physical life, they have been
without 
detailed and accurate information as to the life after death, let
us endeavour 
at once to assimilate such information ourselves, and to pass it on
in our 
nightly conversations with them. Since our thoughts and feelings
are so readily 
mirrored in theirs, let us see to it that those thoughts and
feelings are always 
elevating and encouraging. “If ye know these things, happy are ye
if ye do 
them.”*
   
__________
·       St. John, xiii, .
 
   
Not only should we abstain from mourning; we should go further than
that; we 
should earnestly try to develop within ourselves positive
joyousness. It is the 
duty of every man to be happy, that he may radiate happiness on
others; and most 
especially is that true of those who have dear friends who have
recently passed 
over into the higher life. The best anodyne for sorrow is active
work for 
others; and that also is the surest way to peace and joy.
   
That great truth we can impress upon these friends of ours, if they
do not 
already know it; for the opportunities for helpful work are greater
far in the 
astral world than in the physical. Among the vast hosts of those
whom we call 
the dead there are many who are bewildered by their surroundings,
many who 
through erroneous religious teaching on earth are in a state of
painful 
uncertainty and even acute terror, many who are causing themselves
unnecessary 
suffering by perpetuating earthly desires and passions in that
higher life where 
there is no assuagement for them. What occupation can be nobler and
happier than 
to help these poor souls from darkness to light, to relieve their
sufferings, to 
explain these things that puzzle them, and to guide their feet into
the way of 
peace?
   
Into the splendid corps of Invisible Helpers who are ceaselessly
engaged in this 
benevolent activity we can introduce our newly-arrived friends,
thus assuring 
them of happy and useful work during the whole of their stay in
this wonderful 
astral world which God has provided for the training and enjoyment
of His 
people, even though it be but a stage on the way to that still
higher realm 
whose glories eye hath not seen, neither hath it entered into the
heart of man 
to conceive it.
   
Try to comprehend the unity of all; there is one God, and all are
one in Him. If 
we can but bring home to ourselves the unity of that Eternal Love,
there will be 
no more sorrow for us; for we shall realize, not for ourselves
alone, but also 
for those whom we love, that whether we live or die, we are the
Lord’s, and that 
in Him we live and move and have our being, whether it be in this
world or in 
the world to come. The attitude of mourning is a faithless
attitude, an ignorant 
attitude. The more we know, the more fully we shall trust, for we
shall feel 
with utter certainty that we and our dead alike are in the hands of
perfect 
Power and perfect Wisdom, directed by perfect Love.
__________
 
All taint of grief and mourning we firmly lay aside,
Our seeming loss forgetting, since they are glorified.
We know they stand before us and love us as of old;
God grant we may not fail them, nor let our love grow cold!
With heart and soul we trust Thee; Thy love no tongue can tell;
Thou art the All-Commander, Who doest all things well.
__________
 
peace to all beings
 
 
 
ODE TO THE LIVING DEAD
 
Loved ones! though our waking vision
Know your forms no more,
Earth’s illusion shall not hold us;
Well we know your loves enfold us
Even as before.
 
Death? ’Tis but a stepping forward —
No divorce at all;
Swifter than of old the meeting,
Warmer, heartier the greeting
When you hear our call.
 
And at night, when softest slumber
Seals these earthly eyes,
Lo, a new day dawneth brightly;
From our fetters slipping lightly
To your world we rise;
 
There to work and there to wander
In the sweet old way —
Drink of upper springs and nether,
Learn what Love hath knit together
Standeth fast for aye.
 
Praise and glory for this knowledge
To the One in Three;
For the sting from death is taken,
Nevermore are we forsaken
Through eternity.
 
D. W. M. Burn
 
 
Return to Searchable Text Index
Searchable Theosophical Texts
Theosophy House

Quick Explanations with Links to More Detailed Info
What is Theosophy ?  Theosophy Defined (More Detail)
Three Fundamental Propositions  Key Concepts of Theosophy
Cosmogenesis  Anthropogenesis  Root Races
Ascended Masters  After Death States
The Seven Principles of Man  Karma
Reincarnation   Helena Petrovna Blavatsky
Colonel Henry Steel Olcott  William Quan Judge
The Start of the Theosophical
Society
History of the Theosophical
Society
Theosophical Society Presidents
History of the Theosophical
Society in Wales
The Three Objectives of the
Theosophical Society
Explanation of the Theosophical
Society Emblem
The Theosophical Order of
Service (TOS)
Glossaries of Theosophical Terms
Index
of Searchable
Full
Text Versions of 
Definitive
Theosophical
Works
H P Blavatsky’s Secret Doctrine 
Isis Unveiled by H P Blavatsky
H P Blavatsky’s Esoteric Glossary
Mahatma Letters to A P Sinnett 1 - 25
A Modern Revival of Ancient Wisdom
(Selection of Articles by H P Blavatsky)
The Secret Doctrine – Volume 3
A compilation of H P Blavatsky’s 
writings published after her death
Esoteric Christianity or the Lesser Mysteries
The Early Teachings of The Masters 
A Collection of Fugitive Fragments
Fundamentals of the Esoteric Philosophy
Mystical,
Philosophical, Theosophical, Historical 
and Scientific
Essays Selected from "The Theosophist"
Edited by George
Robert Stow Mead
From Talks on the Path of Occultism - Vol. II
Obras
Teosoficas En Espanol
Theosophische
Schriften Auf Deutsch