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{{Style P-HPB SB. Title continued |Apparitions of the Living|8-139}} | {{Style P-HPB SB. Title continued |Apparitions of the Living|8-139}} | ||
... | {{Style P-No indent|street. I said to him jokingly, “I did not know you were so shortsighted as not to see your friends in the street; you passed me yesterday afternoon.” “Indeed 1 where, and at what time?” “About half-past three, in this street. I was on my way to Vernon-place, and as I passed the end of the Museum or Bury-street (I think the latter) I saw you coming up that street, with a pipe in your mouth, from which I observed the smoke issuing, and you were reading something which, from the colour of the cover, I took to be the ''R. Magazine. ''You did not look up, so I walked on, thinking you would overtake and recognise me, but after I had turned the corner of Bloomsbury-square I looked round, and saw that you had passed me, and were walking along in front of the Square garden; you were still smoking your pipe, but you had ceased reading. I could not see whether you had the magazine still in your hand, but I particularly noticed that the band of your Ulster coat was loose, and that the ends were hanging on either side. I thought it rather strange you had not seen me, but I know you are rather shortsighted, and perhaps you were reading when you passed me. You look astonished; now what is ''gone ''story?”}} | ||
{{Style S-HPB SB. Continues on|8-141}} | M. “My story is this. I left this room yesterday afternoon at 2.15 with the magazine you speak of in my pocket. I went—not into great Russell-street at all—but through Woburn-street, and other small turnings into Holborn, and made direct for the City, arriving at a friend’s office at ten minutes past three by the clock there. I remained in the office, busily employed, until after six o’clock, when I walked back to Holborn. On setting out I felt in my pocket for my pipe, ''hut it was not there, ''and I found it at home, in its usual place on my arrival.” | ||
Now, what was this? There was no mistake about the identity, so far as appearance goes; the figure, features, hat, pipe, coat, and magazine were all noted by me as familiar, and were seen from two points of view, before and behind. I do not know, of course, whether the figure was visible to others, but I am not clairvoyante, and the apparition was just as solid as the other persons in the street. I did not then know that it was M.’s habit to smoke a pipe and read as he went along the street. I had never seen him do it. I knew that he had the magazine in his pocket when he left, for it was one which he had lent me, and as only about an hour had elapsed since I saw him, I imagined that he had been down to some newspaper office, and was returning home with the last number. M. assured me that he was not trying an experiment on me; on the contrary, he was occupied at that time and all the afternoon with work of a peculiarly engrossing character, and that his wits were not wool-gathering, nor his mind wandering. This is. therefore, an example of an involuntary and, apparently, an objectless apparition. | |||
The following is another. I wrote of it at the time, but only in a letter to a friend, so I have not the date, but it took place during last summer. | |||
A lady friend came to see me here one Saturday afternoon, and, after closing-time, we took a walk in Hyde-park, returning at about eight o’clock. I remained in the passage below for a moment to speak to the housekeeper, while my friend walked upstairs. When I arrived on the second lauding I met her coming out of my sitting-room. She said: “There is a gentleman in your room, Mr. N.” I expressed surprise, for I am unused to receive visitors on Saturday evenings, when it is generally understood that I am out of town. We entered the room together, and now it was my friend’s turn to be surprised, for there was no person visible. She said: “He was certainly here; he was sitting in that chair, and when I entered the room, he came to meet me, shook bands, and asked me how I was. I replied that I was well, and that you (meaning myself) were coming up directly.” Now this lady, unlike myself, is clairvoyante; I was, therefore, not so very much surprised that she should see a person who might have been in my room, though scarcely under the circumstances. On inquiry, I found that N. had been (I think) at his club at the time, and was certainly not attempting to cast his double into my apartment. Another objectless and involuntary apparition. | |||
The next instance I shall relate occurred to a lady with whom I had been travelling in America, who was not a Spiritualist, but who seemed to have some slight clairvoyant power. Miss B. had left me at Niagara {Falls, and had gone up the River St. Lawrence, while I returned to Albany and New York. She related the story to me on her arrival in the latter city, shortly before I left for England. The first evening that she spent in an hotel at Quebec, she entered, by mistake, a room next to her own, in which she saw a lady, and two children playing on the sofa. She apologised and retired. Going down to dinner the ladies met in the passage and greetings were exchanged. Miss B. asked after the children. “I have no children with me,” said the lady. “Then whose were those I saw in your room?” After hearing Miss B.’s description, the lady said, “This is very strange, because that is an exact description of the two children of a relation of mine, of whom I generally have charge; but at present I am here alone, and have had no one in the room with me. But how is your little boy?” “I have no little boy,” replied Miss B., astonished in her turn. “I have come quite alone from Europe to see America, and my only companion has been a lady whom I met on the steamship, and from whom I parted at Niagara Falls.” The description of the child given by the lady did not coincide with that of any child known to Miss B. This simultaneous vision by two persons, mutually “interviewing” each other’s astral friends, is the only one of the kind that has ever come under my notice. | |||
It is with some hesitation that I now proceed to relate an experiment of will-power made between two persons well known in this society. It is always difficult to verify these things even if expected results are attained, and when the operators at each end of the line find their notes agree. After all, we do not know that the results were due to the means used, and I distinctly wish it to be understood that, though I can vouch for the facts, I am not putting forward a theory for their explanation. | |||
One evening early in last year a friend, whom I will call A., resolved to try whether he could appear to B., at some miles distant. A. did not inform B. beforehand of the experiment he intended to make. He retired to rest shortly before midnight, and, before going to sleep, fixed his thoughts intently on B., with whose room and surroundings, however, he was quite unacquainted. A. soon fell asleep, and awoke the next morning unconscious of anything having taken place. On seeing B. a few days afterwards, he asked, “Did anything happen at your room on Saturday night?” “Yes,” replied B., “a great deal happened. I had been sitting over the fire with M., smoking and chatting. About 12.30 he rose to leave, and I let him out myself. I returned to the fire to finish my pipe, when I saw you sitting in the chair just vacated by M. I looked intently at you, then took up a newspaper to assure myself I was not dreaming, but on laying it down I saw you still there. While I gazed without speaking, you faded away. Though I imagined you must be fast asleep in bed at that hour, yet you appeared dressed in your ordinary garments, such as you usually wear every day.” “Then my experiment seems to have succeeded,” said A. “The next time I come, ask me what I want, as I had fixed my mind on certain questions I intended to ask you, but I was probably waiting for an invitation to speak.” | |||
A few weeks later the experiment was repeated with equal success, A., as before, not informing B. when it was to be made. On this occasion B. not only questioned A. on a subject which was at that time under very warm discussion between them, but detained A. by the exercise of his will some time after A. had said that he wished to leave. This fact, when it came to be communicated to A., seemed to account to him for the violent and somewhat peculiar headache with which he awoke on the morning following the experiment; at least, he had remarked at the time that there was no apparent cause, physical or otherwise, for the headache, to which he was in no way usually subject. | |||
The last incident I shall relate differs from the rest as being more striking, more objective, and more practical in its results, while at the same time it is the least easily accounted for, as having taken place apart from the will or intention of the persons concerned. I will call them C. and D. | |||
D., who is a journalist, was sitting at his desk one morning early last September, writing the leading article for a provincial newspaper, on the Eastern question. He had {{Style S-HPB SB. Continues on|8-141}} | |||
Latest revision as of 08:22, 11 July 2024
Legend
< Apparitions of the Living (continued from page 8-139) >
street. I said to him jokingly, “I did not know you were so shortsighted as not to see your friends in the street; you passed me yesterday afternoon.” “Indeed 1 where, and at what time?” “About half-past three, in this street. I was on my way to Vernon-place, and as I passed the end of the Museum or Bury-street (I think the latter) I saw you coming up that street, with a pipe in your mouth, from which I observed the smoke issuing, and you were reading something which, from the colour of the cover, I took to be the R. Magazine. You did not look up, so I walked on, thinking you would overtake and recognise me, but after I had turned the corner of Bloomsbury-square I looked round, and saw that you had passed me, and were walking along in front of the Square garden; you were still smoking your pipe, but you had ceased reading. I could not see whether you had the magazine still in your hand, but I particularly noticed that the band of your Ulster coat was loose, and that the ends were hanging on either side. I thought it rather strange you had not seen me, but I know you are rather shortsighted, and perhaps you were reading when you passed me. You look astonished; now what is gone story?”
M. “My story is this. I left this room yesterday afternoon at 2.15 with the magazine you speak of in my pocket. I went—not into great Russell-street at all—but through Woburn-street, and other small turnings into Holborn, and made direct for the City, arriving at a friend’s office at ten minutes past three by the clock there. I remained in the office, busily employed, until after six o’clock, when I walked back to Holborn. On setting out I felt in my pocket for my pipe, hut it was not there, and I found it at home, in its usual place on my arrival.”
Now, what was this? There was no mistake about the identity, so far as appearance goes; the figure, features, hat, pipe, coat, and magazine were all noted by me as familiar, and were seen from two points of view, before and behind. I do not know, of course, whether the figure was visible to others, but I am not clairvoyante, and the apparition was just as solid as the other persons in the street. I did not then know that it was M.’s habit to smoke a pipe and read as he went along the street. I had never seen him do it. I knew that he had the magazine in his pocket when he left, for it was one which he had lent me, and as only about an hour had elapsed since I saw him, I imagined that he had been down to some newspaper office, and was returning home with the last number. M. assured me that he was not trying an experiment on me; on the contrary, he was occupied at that time and all the afternoon with work of a peculiarly engrossing character, and that his wits were not wool-gathering, nor his mind wandering. This is. therefore, an example of an involuntary and, apparently, an objectless apparition.
The following is another. I wrote of it at the time, but only in a letter to a friend, so I have not the date, but it took place during last summer.
A lady friend came to see me here one Saturday afternoon, and, after closing-time, we took a walk in Hyde-park, returning at about eight o’clock. I remained in the passage below for a moment to speak to the housekeeper, while my friend walked upstairs. When I arrived on the second lauding I met her coming out of my sitting-room. She said: “There is a gentleman in your room, Mr. N.” I expressed surprise, for I am unused to receive visitors on Saturday evenings, when it is generally understood that I am out of town. We entered the room together, and now it was my friend’s turn to be surprised, for there was no person visible. She said: “He was certainly here; he was sitting in that chair, and when I entered the room, he came to meet me, shook bands, and asked me how I was. I replied that I was well, and that you (meaning myself) were coming up directly.” Now this lady, unlike myself, is clairvoyante; I was, therefore, not so very much surprised that she should see a person who might have been in my room, though scarcely under the circumstances. On inquiry, I found that N. had been (I think) at his club at the time, and was certainly not attempting to cast his double into my apartment. Another objectless and involuntary apparition.
The next instance I shall relate occurred to a lady with whom I had been travelling in America, who was not a Spiritualist, but who seemed to have some slight clairvoyant power. Miss B. had left me at Niagara {Falls, and had gone up the River St. Lawrence, while I returned to Albany and New York. She related the story to me on her arrival in the latter city, shortly before I left for England. The first evening that she spent in an hotel at Quebec, she entered, by mistake, a room next to her own, in which she saw a lady, and two children playing on the sofa. She apologised and retired. Going down to dinner the ladies met in the passage and greetings were exchanged. Miss B. asked after the children. “I have no children with me,” said the lady. “Then whose were those I saw in your room?” After hearing Miss B.’s description, the lady said, “This is very strange, because that is an exact description of the two children of a relation of mine, of whom I generally have charge; but at present I am here alone, and have had no one in the room with me. But how is your little boy?” “I have no little boy,” replied Miss B., astonished in her turn. “I have come quite alone from Europe to see America, and my only companion has been a lady whom I met on the steamship, and from whom I parted at Niagara Falls.” The description of the child given by the lady did not coincide with that of any child known to Miss B. This simultaneous vision by two persons, mutually “interviewing” each other’s astral friends, is the only one of the kind that has ever come under my notice.
It is with some hesitation that I now proceed to relate an experiment of will-power made between two persons well known in this society. It is always difficult to verify these things even if expected results are attained, and when the operators at each end of the line find their notes agree. After all, we do not know that the results were due to the means used, and I distinctly wish it to be understood that, though I can vouch for the facts, I am not putting forward a theory for their explanation.
One evening early in last year a friend, whom I will call A., resolved to try whether he could appear to B., at some miles distant. A. did not inform B. beforehand of the experiment he intended to make. He retired to rest shortly before midnight, and, before going to sleep, fixed his thoughts intently on B., with whose room and surroundings, however, he was quite unacquainted. A. soon fell asleep, and awoke the next morning unconscious of anything having taken place. On seeing B. a few days afterwards, he asked, “Did anything happen at your room on Saturday night?” “Yes,” replied B., “a great deal happened. I had been sitting over the fire with M., smoking and chatting. About 12.30 he rose to leave, and I let him out myself. I returned to the fire to finish my pipe, when I saw you sitting in the chair just vacated by M. I looked intently at you, then took up a newspaper to assure myself I was not dreaming, but on laying it down I saw you still there. While I gazed without speaking, you faded away. Though I imagined you must be fast asleep in bed at that hour, yet you appeared dressed in your ordinary garments, such as you usually wear every day.” “Then my experiment seems to have succeeded,” said A. “The next time I come, ask me what I want, as I had fixed my mind on certain questions I intended to ask you, but I was probably waiting for an invitation to speak.”
A few weeks later the experiment was repeated with equal success, A., as before, not informing B. when it was to be made. On this occasion B. not only questioned A. on a subject which was at that time under very warm discussion between them, but detained A. by the exercise of his will some time after A. had said that he wished to leave. This fact, when it came to be communicated to A., seemed to account to him for the violent and somewhat peculiar headache with which he awoke on the morning following the experiment; at least, he had remarked at the time that there was no apparent cause, physical or otherwise, for the headache, to which he was in no way usually subject.
The last incident I shall relate differs from the rest as being more striking, more objective, and more practical in its results, while at the same time it is the least easily accounted for, as having taken place apart from the will or intention of the persons concerned. I will call them C. and D.
D., who is a journalist, was sitting at his desk one morning early last September, writing the leading article for a provincial newspaper, on the Eastern question. He had <... continues on page 8-141 >