CHAPTER V.

Thought-Transference and Telepathy. Thought-Transference is evidently a phase of psychic perception. In some respects it bears a greater relation to feeling than sight. It is distinguished from pure clairvoyance by the result of experiment. For instance, suppose I had in the Rothesay case designed M. C., the clairvoyante, should see “a maid in the room, dressed in a black dress, with neat white collar and cuffs, wearing a nicely-trimmed white apron, and a white tulle cap with bows and streamers, or that a black-and-white spotted cat lay comfortably coiled up upon the hearth-rug, or some other strongly-projected mental image.” Now, suppose while M. C. was examining the room, she declared she _saw_ the maid, and described her, or the cat, or other objects projected from my mind, and described these, then this would be a case of thought-transference. There is a distinction between thought-transference and thought-reading. It is no mere fanciful distinction either. Thought-transference occurs when the ideas, thoughts, and emotions of one mind are projected by intense action and received by the sensitive and impressionable mind of another--awake or asleep is immaterial--so long as it occurs without pre-arrangement and contact. Telepathy is a more vivid form of sudden and unexpected thought-transference, in which the intense thoughts and wishes of one person, more or less in sympathy, are suddenly transferred to the consciousness of another. The thoughts transmitted are often so intense as to be accompanied by the vision of the person, and by the sound of their voice. Telepathy bears about the same relation to thought-transference as “second sight” does to clairvoyance. Thought-transference and clairvoyance can be cultivated. Not so telepathy and second sight. They are phenomena, which belong to the unexpected, portents of the unusual, or sudden revelations of what is, and what is about to happen. Doubtless, there are conditions more favourable than others for inception of these. One needs to be “in spirit on the Lord’s day,” or any day, before telepathic and second sight messages are secured. Hence it is noticed telepathic revelations mostly come in the quietude of the evening, just before sleep, between sleep and waking, and under similar conditions favourable to passivity and receptivity in the sensitive or percipient. In thought-reading both operator and sensitive are aware that something is to be done, and indications, intentional or otherwise, are given to make the thought-reader find out what is required. More or less sensitiveness is required in both phases. In telepathy and thought-transference the psychic elements are in the ascendency; in thought-reading they may be more or less present, but intention, sensitiveness, and muscular contact are adequate enough, I think, to account for the phenomena, as witnessed at public entertainments--so far, at least, as these entertainments are genuine. How do we think? what are thoughts? and how are thoughts transferred? are reasonable questions, and merit more elaborate solution than is possible in an elementary work like this. We think in pictures: words are but vehicles of thought. In thought-transference we can successfully project actions, or a series of actions, by forming in our minds a scene or picture of what is done and what is to be reproduced. When, however, we think of a sentence consisting of few or many words, there is nothing more difficult to convey. Words belong to our external life here, and are but arbitrary expressions and signs for what in the internal or soul-life is flashed telepathically from mind to mind. Thoughts are things for good or ill, veritable and living realities, apart from our exterior selves, independent of words. The more words, often the less thought. Try to teach a child by the slow, dry-as-dust method of words, and the road to knowledge is hard and wearisome. Convey the same thoughts by illustrations and experiments, and the child’s mind at once grasps the ideas we desire to convey. Thoughts are living entities (how poor are words!) which our own souls have given birth to, or created in the intensity of our love, wisdom, or passion. One Eastern adept has taught, “A good thought is perpetuated as an active, beneficent power, an evil one as a malignant demon. The Hindoo calls this _karma_. The adept evolves these shapes consciously; other men throw them off unconsciously.” How true in our experience! The thoughts of some men blast, while those of others bless. There is wisdom in thinking deliberately, intelligently, and therefore conscientiously, not passionately, impulsively, or carelessly. In thought-transference the reproduction of exact words and dates seems to be most difficult. Indeed, the transmission of arbitrary words and signs is apparently the most difficult. The reason, I conclude, is, ideas belong to our inner, real, and spiritual life, and names, words, and dates to our exterior existence. The ideas can be expressed in the language of the sensitive, according to culture or the want of it. If the true lineaments of the picture are given, need we be too exacting as to the special frame surrounding the picture? Notwithstanding the difficulty in transference and the reading of the exact words, this has also been frequently done. A very high state of receptivity and sensitiveness, however, is necessary in the percipient. An incident of exact word-reading is related by Gerald Massey, the distinguished philosopher and poet. Mr. Massey met Mr. Home at the London terminus just on his (Mr. Massey’s) arrival from Hertfordshire. Home and he entered into conversation, during which Home suddenly said “he hoped Mr. Massey would go on with his poem.” “What did he mean?” asked Mr. Massey. “The poem,” replied Home, “you composed four lines of just now in the train.” This was surprising to Mr. Massey, who had actually composed, but had not written, the four lines of a new poem on the journey. Mr. Massey challenged Mr. Home to repeat the lines, which Home did word for word. How are thoughts transferred? No one can positively say. There are theories enough--the _theory of brain-waves_ and of _a universal impalpable elastic ether_, of _undulating motions_, or other more or less materialistic hypothesis.[E] We know there are no psychic phenomena without their corresponding physical correlatives, and, in this life at least, these are in thoughts evolved without producing corresponding molecular changes in the brain. We notice the human brain is capable of being, and is, acted upon daily by much less subtle influences than mental impressions. We can appreciate light impinged upon our cerebral centres at the rate of millions of undulations, and sound as the result of 20,000 to 30,000 vibrations per second. So sensitives, when in the mesmeric or psychic states, are readily acted upon, and respond as in thought-transference to our thoughts and sensations, and veritably read our minds, because of the _rapport_ or sympathy thus established. Whether they become percipients of the nerve-vibrations which escape from our own sensoriums or not, what does it matter _if they can, as they frequently do_, read our minds? “Professor Wheaton,” says Hudson Tuttle, “devised a means of illustrating sympathy. If a sounding board is placed so as to resound to all instruments of the orchestra, and connected by a metallic rod of considerable length with the sounding board of a harp or piano, the instrument will accurately repeat the notes transmitted. “The nervous system, in its two-fold relation to the physical and spiritual being, is inconceivably more finely organised than the most perfect musical instrument, and is possessed of finer sensitiveness. “It must not be inferred that all minds are equally receptive. Light falls on all substances alike, but is very differently affected by each substance. One class of bodies absorb all but the yellow rays, another all but the blue, another all but the red, because these substances are so organised that they respond only to the waves of the colours reflected.” All persons do not hear alike. They receive certain sounds and are deaf to all others, although the sound-waves strike all tympanums alike. All persons do not see alike. Some perceive colours, others cannot distinguish between one colour and another, or can only see the more striking colours--fineness of shade they do not perceive. So there are individuals who cannot receive mental impressions, unless, indeed, they are conveyed in the baldest and most esoteric manner. In a word to convey and receive impressions they must be sent along the line of the least resistance, that of _true sympathy_. There must be one mind adequate to the projection, and another mind sufficiently sensitive to receive and record the thoughts projected. TRANSFERENCE OF TASTE IN THE MESMERIC STATE. The operator will slowly eat or taste half-a-dozen lozenges or sweets of different flavours, and the subject or sensitive most in sympathy with him will also in imagination eat of and describe the taste of the various sweets, concerning which he has no other knowledge than the thoughts of eating and tasting, which are transmitted to him from the brain of the operator. The mere eating of the lozenges by the operator, without his being fully aware of the fact, will deepen the impression on the operator’s mind, and help to concentrate his energies for the transmission of his ideas or mental suggestions to his subject. A step or two further and we find with greater sensitiveness the sensitives can read the thoughts of the operator, whether the thoughts were transmitted intentionally or not. “We are compelled (says Dr. Hands) to acknowledge that certain emanating undulations from the sensorium can generate different series of thoughts, and that the trembling organisation, or parts of it, can, by flinging or throwing off distinct or particular pulsatory waves, inoculate or produce like vibrations in another person’s brain, making up in it identical thoughts, followed by like feelings, and often in this way, perhaps, capable of inciting, _through sympathy_, like enactments of deeds and pursuits.” THOUGHT-TRANSFERENCE IN DREAMS. The following interesting letter appeared in _The Phrenological Magazine_ (p. 260, April, 1890), and as I know of the _bona-fides_ of the writer, I have much pleasure in reproducing it:-- “Dear Sir,--This morning, at a little before four o’clock, I awoke as the outcome of great mental distress and grief through which I had just passed in a dream, my body trembling and in a cold perspiration. I had been walking with my little boy, aged five and a half years, and some friends. A heavy rain overtaking us, we stood up for shelter; and venturing forth into a maze of streets, I missed my two friends, who, threading among the people, had turned into a side street without my noticing. Looking for them, my boy slipped from me, and was lost in the crowd. I became bewildered by the strange labyrinth of streets and turnings, and quickly taking one of them which gave an elevated position, I looked down on the many windings, but could nowhere see my boy. It was to me an unknown locality, and, running down among the people, I was soon sobbing aloud in my distress, and calling out the name of the child, when I awoke. With wakefulness came a sense of relief and thankfulness. Gladly realising that the whole was only a dream, and still scarcely awake, I was startled by a cry of terror and pain from an adjoining bedroom--such a cry as could not be left unheeded. It came from the same child, and pierced me with a distinct sense of pain. I was immediately by his side. My voice calmed him. ‘I thought I was lost’ was all he could say, and doubtless he was soon composed and asleep again. To me the coincidence was too remarkable and without parallel in my own experience. Later on, at breakfast, the child gave further his dream that he _had been out with me and was lost_. I am only familiar with such things in my reading. Mr. Coates’s article in last month’s _Phrenological Magazine_ (page 143) mentions that, ‘when the Prince Imperial died from assegai thrusts in Zululand, his mother in England felt the intensity of his thoughts at the time, felt the savage lance pierce her own side, and knew or felt at the time that she was childless.’ But I am not of the _spirituelle_ type, with only a thin parchment separation between this life of realities and the great beyond, of those who, privileged to live in close touch with the future, are the subjects of premonitions and warnings. My spirituality 4 to 5 and reflectives 6 point rather the other way, but I shall, nevertheless, hold tight to the lad. What is the underlying cause of the coincidence? Which of the two minds influenced the other, if either?--Yours truly, “G. Cox. “16 Bramfield Road, Wandsworth Common, April 20, 1890.” In this case of thought-transference, I am inclined to the opinion that the father’s mind influenced that of the boy, the son being the more sensitive of the two. Mr. Cox dreamt an ordinary but pretty vivid dream, which aroused from its nature vivid and intense anxiety on his part. A similar train of thought was awakened in the child. If thought-transference occurs in waking life, why not in sleep, when, as abundant telepathic instances testify, the phenomenon is of most frequent occurrence. THOUGHT-TRANSFERENCE AT SEA. The percipient was Captain G. A. Johnson, of the schooner “Augusta H. Johnson.” He had sailed from Quero for home. On the voyage he encountered a terrible hurricane. On the second day he saw a disabled brig, and near by a barque. He was anxious to reach home, and, thinking the barque would assist the brig, continued on. But the impression came that he must turn back and board the brig. He could not shake it off, and at last he, with four men, boarded the brig in a dory. He found her deserted, and made sail in her. After a time they saw an object ahead, appearing like a man on a cake of ice. The dory was again manned, and set to the rescue. It proved to be the mate of the barque “Leawood” clinging to the bottom of an overturned boat, which, being white, appeared in the distance as ice. The captain’s sensitiveness may have been aroused by the exhaustion of so much wakefulness and care during the length of the storm, the sight of the derelict and deserted brig; at the same time the premonitions were opposed to his own desire and anxiety to get home. THOUGHT-TRANSFERENCE FROM THE DYING TO THE LIVING IN DREAM. The following, by E. Ede, M.D., of Guilford (J.S.P.R., July, 1882):-- “Lady G. and her sister had been spending the evening with their mother, who was in her usual health and spirits when they left her. In the middle of the night the sister awoke in a fright, and said to her husband, ‘I must go to my mother at once; do order the carriage. I am sure she is ill.’ The husband, after trying in vain to convince his wife that it was only a fancy, ordered the carriage. As she was approaching the house, where two roads met, she saw lady G.’s carriage. When they met, each asked the other why she was there. The same reply was made by both--‘I could not sleep, feeling sure my mother was ill, and so I came to see.’ As they came in sight, they saw their mother’s confidential maid at the door, who told them when they arrived that their mother had taken suddenly ill, and was dying, and had expressed an earnest wish to see her daughters.” The percipients having been so lately in company and sympathy with their mother possibly rendered them more susceptible to her influence. THOUGHT-TRANSFERENCE FROM THE DEAD (?) TO THE LIVING IN DREAM. Related by Mr. Myers, page 208, Proceedings S.P.R., July, 1892:-- “About March, 1857, Mrs. Mennier, in England, dreamt that she saw her brother, whose whereabouts she did not know, standing headless at the foot of the bed with his head lying in a coffin by his side. The dream was at once mentioned. It afterwards appeared that at about the time the head of the brother seen, Mr. Wellington, was actually cut off by the Chinese at Sarawak.” On this case, Mr. Gurney remarks--“This dream, if it is to be telepathically explained, must apparently have been due to the last flash of thought in the brother’s consciousness. It may seem strange that a definite picture of his mode of death should present itself to a man in the instant of receiving an unexpected and fatal blow; but, as Hobbes said, ‘Thought is quick.’ The coffin, at any rate, may be taken as an item of death-imagery supplied by the dreamer’s mind.” “We have now, however,” says Mr. Myers, “seen a letter from Sir James Brookes (Rajah of Sarawak), and an extract from the _Straits Times_ of March 21st, 1857, in the (London) _Times_ for April 29th, 1857, which makes it, I think, quite conceivable that the dream was a reflection of knowledge acquired after death, and the head on the coffin had a distinct meaning.” Sir James Brookes says:--“Poor Wellington’s remains were consumed [by the Chinese]; his head, borne off in triumph, alone attesting his previous murder.” The _Straits Times_ says:--“The head was given up on the following day. The head, therefore, and the head alone, must have been buried by Mr. Wellington’s friends; and its appearance in the dream _on the coffin_, with a headless body standing beside it, is a coincidence even more significant than the facts which Mr. Gurney had before him when he wrote.” The transmission of thought from a spirit discarnate to one incarnate, whose body was asleep, should not be esteemed impossible. Abundant instances, equally well substantiated, might be recorded did space permit. THOUGHT TRANSFERENCE IN PRAYER. This may be a common experience, but only once in my life have I had conscious knowledge of anything so remarkable. For some years before devoting my attention to these subjects, I resided in Liverpool, and had been a member of the Zion Methodist Church, or Chapel, in Everton, and in time was duly placed on the local preachers’ plan. In this capacity I became acquainted with a worthy old man--a chapel-keeper, who looked after the meeting house situated in ---- street. He had been an old soldier, and possessed something of the faith of the Roman centurion. Poor in the things of this world, he was rich in the sublimity of his love to God and the nobility and purity of his life. I never think of “Old Daddy Walker” but his character and this incident comes to my mind, viz.:--One morning I was hurrying down West Derby Road to business, and, indeed had got halfway down Brunswick Road, when I commenced to think about old Walker (I had not seen or thought of him for some months). I attempted to throw aside my impressions, as passing thoughts. No use. I became worried about him, and was asking myself questions. “Was he ill?” “Maybe, he is in want?” “I think I will hurry back and see?” I had not much time to spare. It would consume fully twenty minutes to walk back. After hesitating, I went up Brunswick Road and up West Derby Road, and to ---- Street, and tapped at the door of his house. There was no response. The street door was slightly ajar. I went in, and found the old pair on their knees in the kitchen. He was engaged in earnest prayer. After kindly salutations, I apologised for intruding, and told him, as I went to business, “I had been bothered about him in my mind, and did not feel satisfied until I had seen him, and knew the truth.” He told me, as near as I can recollect, “He was at his last extremity. There was no food or fuel in the house, he had no money, and he had been putting the whole case before the Lord.” I had half a sovereign about me, which I had taken out of the house for an entirely different purpose. This I gave to him. The old man, rubbing a tear from his eye, looking at his wife, said: “Mary, don’t thee doubt the Lord anymore. I said He would help, and He has given me what I asked for.” Old Walker went on to explain, not only his bad fix, but that he had no money to buy firewood with. He meant that he bought up old wood and tar-barrels, which he cut up into lengths and made into bundles, and sold for firewood; and that he had asked the Lord for ten shillings, as he wanted that sum to buy a certain lot which could be obtained for that amount. The old man obtained what he asked for. He believed the Lord had answered his prayer. THOUGHT TRANSMISSION IN PRAYER. Since writing the above, the following came under my notice. In the J.S.P.R., May, 1885, Dr. Joseph Smith, Warrington, England, says:-- “I was sitting one evening reading, when a voice came to me, saying: ‘Send a loaf to James Grady’s.’ I continued reading, and the voice continued with greater emphasis, and this time it was accompanied with an irresistible impulse to get up. I obeyed, and went into the village and bought a loaf of bread, and, seeing a lad at the shop door, I asked him if he knew James Grady. He said he did, so I bade him carry it and say a gentleman sent it. Mrs. Grady was a member of my class, and I went next morning to see what came of it, when she told me a strange thing happened to her last night. She said she wished to put the children to bed, they began to cry for want of food, and she had nothing to give them. She then went to prayer, to ask God to give them something. Soon after which the lad came to the door with the loaf. I calculated, on inquiry, that the prayer and the voice I heard exactly coincided in point of time.” “More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of.” Those who know anything of Methodism, will know this. The Methodists have a profound faith in prayer, and also there is a very close relationship between a class-leader and his members. Dr. Smith was, therefore, all the more likely to be the percipient of the woman’s earnest and intense prayer to God to feed her hungry children. The Infinite must have an infinite variety of ways of fulfilling His own purposes. Is it unreasonable to suppose that prayer to Him may not be answered indirectly “through means”? and that thought-transference, as in this instance, may be one of the means? If not, why not? Charitable institutions are maintained; orphans saved, reared, and educated; missions of mercy organised, and the necessary means found by the agency of prayer. Beside “the angels,” in That Sphere just beyond the ken of the physical, may not our waves of thought, projected by prayer, be impinged upon, and directly affect susceptible minds in this world, by directing their attention to those works of faith and goodness? Prayer is the language of love, and the outcome of true helplessness and need. A praying man is an earnest man. In prayer thoughts are things--bread upon the waters. THOUGHT TRANSFERENCE IN DISTRESS. I withhold the names for family reasons. Mr. ---- had been in business in Glasgow for nearly thirty years, and, from comparatively small beginnings, had been very successful. Latterly, he and his family resided in ----, a suburb of Glasgow. Both in the city and in this district Mr. ---- was very much respected, being a church member and holding office in ---- Free Church. For some time Mr. ---- had been ailing, and his medical attendant advised him to take a sea voyage--a thorough change, etc. In compliance with this advice, he took a trip up the Mediterranean. Miss ----, a distant relative of his, had been visiting Glasgow, and, being on terms of intimacy with the family, knew of his departure from Glasgow. About two weeks after he left, she also left Glasgow for Edinburgh. While in the train for Edinburgh, she was overcome with great anxiety for Mrs. ----, his wife. Unable to shake the feeling off, instead of going to Edinburgh, she actually got out of the train halfway, at Falkirk, and took the next train back to Glasgow, and went to her friend’s house, whom she found in great distress. Mrs. ---- had, about the time Miss ---- became distressed in the train, received word that her husband was found dead (having committed suicide) in his berth on the steamer at Constantinople. The state of mind of the newly-made widow re-acted on that of Miss ----. As Miss ---- was not only a dear friend, but was noted for her earnest piety, the widow at once earnestly desired to see her. When last these two friends saw each other, everything seemed to contribute to happiness and comfort. Mrs. ---- was looking forward hopefully for the return of her husband, restored in health, to herself and children. THOUGHT TRANSFERENCE IN ORDINARY EXPERIENCE. Whether thought-transference is a “relic of a decaying faculty,” or the “germ of a new and fruitful sense,” daily experience in the lives of most furnish abundant evidence of the existence of such a power. My own life has supplied me with abundant evidence of the fact. It is a common occurrence with us for either my wife or I to utter or give expression to the thoughts which, for the time being, occupied the conscious plane in the other. It is possible there may have been, as there has been in some instances, some half phrase uttered or manner shown, which in the one have aroused the thoughts expressed by the other. It has been our habit for several years to stay at Rothesay during the summer season. As an instance of thought-transference quite common in our experience;--On Saturday, 1st October, 1892, I went to the Revision Court at the Town Hall to hear registration disputes settled between Tory and Gladstonian lawyers. Finding nothing to interest me, I entered into conversation with Mr. Thompson, jeweller and hardware merchant, whom I met in the Court, and went with him to his shop in Montague Street, Rothesay. Standing at his door a short time, I noticed a solitary pair of shamrock earrings, composed of crystal brilliants and gold, lying on a tray, with a number of other earrings, in one of the windows. I inquired the price, as I felt sure Mrs. Coates would be pleased with them. They were packed up in a neat box, and I took them home. At dinner, I gave the box to my wife, who said, “What is this, papa?” “Open and see,” I replied. Animated with a little curiosity, she did, and, as soon as she saw the earrings, said, “Thompson’s! Well, papa, that is funny. James (my little son) and I stood at Thompson’s window last night, and I admired these earrings. I thought them so neat, and that they would match my brooch. I thought I would like to have them, and then I thought to myself, no; I will not spend the money. I pointed them out to James, and said to him, I am sure if papa saw them, he would buy them--and here you have brought them home. I cannot tell you how much I prize them.” My little boy said, “Thought-reading again, papa!” and, with a good laugh, we proceeded to discuss our dinner. Mrs. Coates had not been in the habit of seeing this particular window, and I am not in the habit of buying jewellery. I record this trifle here, as one of our common experiences, and I am satisfied similar experiences are common to all. Another experience is the anticipation of letters and their contents. This is most frequent in the morning, just before rising. I frequently see the letters and the shape of the envelope and style of address before I actually see the letters on my consulting table. The most common experience of all is recognised by the adage, “Think of the Devil, and he will appear.” I have noted this in particular. Sitting at the table, there is “popped” into my mind a thought of someone. I will remark, “I think Mr. or Mrs. ---- will be here to-day,” and they come. Certainly, all who have come in this way have been relatives or friends; and although they appear subsequent to the thought of them, the evidence in favour of thought-transference may not be esteemed conclusive. I say it is a common experience. I don’t think we should despise any experience, because it is common. To be common, indicates there is a basis, amounting to a psychic law, to account for its existence. Another common experience is the crossing of letters. One person suddenly recollects “So-and-so;” and writes them a letter excusing delay in writing, retailing news, and in all probability writing on some subject more particularly than on others. Strange to say, the person you have written to, has also been engaged writing to you about the same time and on similar subjects. Both have possibly posted their letters at such a time that the delivery has been crossed. I do not say this proves anything; yet I cannot help thinking the experience is too frequent to be accounted for by the usual explanation of accident or coincidence. Mark Twain’s article on “Mental Telegraphy” is fresh in the minds of most magazine readers. Whether that article had a basis in the writer’s actual experience or not, it is a pretty common experience with most literary men. “Distance,” says Mr. Tuttle, “has inappreciable influence on the transference of thought. It may take place in the same room, or where the two persons are thousands of miles apart. As a personal experience, I will relate one of many similar incidents which have awakened my attention to this wonderful phenomenon. Sitting by my desk one evening, suddenly as a flash of light, the thought came to write an article for the _Harbinger of Light_, published at Melbourne, Australia. I had, by correspondence, become acquainted with the editor, W. H. Terry, but there had been no letters passed for many a year. I had not thought of him or his journal for I do not know how long a time, and I was amused at first with the idea of writing on the subject suggested. But the impression was so strong that I prepared and forwarded an article. Nearly two months passed before I received a letter from Mr. Terry, requesting me to write an article on the subject on which I have written; and, making due allowance for time, the date of our letters were the same. In our experience, this crossing of letters answering each other has twice occurred--the second by Mr. Terry answering a request of mine.” Dr. Charles W. Hidden, of Newburyport, Mass., U.S.A., reports a somewhat similar experience to that of Mark Twain and the above, which was reported in a recent number of the _Religio-Philosophical Journal_: A very peculiar plot impressed itself upon his mind, and he immediately based a story upon the plot. He read the story to his family, and was about to send it to a publication to which his wife had recently become a subscriber. When the next number arrived he opened it to learn how to forward his manuscript, and great was his surprise to find on the first page a story bearing the title of his own, and a plot almost identical with that which he had written. Parts of the published article appeared word for word. It is needless to add that Dr. Hidden tossed his manuscript into his desk, and it is there yet. His explanation is, that he caught the title and the plot from another, just as Mark Twain caught the plot of the “Big Bonanza” from his friend Simmons. It would be nigh impossible to illustrate the various phases of thought-transference, ranging, as they do, from the association of ideas which may be aroused by a hint, a half-uttered word, or a gesture, to the unmistakable facts of pure mental transference, and, higher still, to the region of pure psychism, where spirit influences inspire and direct spirit, and thought-bodies are no longer recognised as mere subjective spirits but living and tangible objective personalities, albeit discarnate. We can say truly with Voltaire, “There is a power that acts within us, without consulting us.”