CHAPTER XI.

"1889.

"I heard some one sobbing one evening last August (1888) about 10 P.M. It was in the house in Dunbar, Scotland, as I was preparing to go to bed. Feeling convinced that it was my youngest sister, I advised another sister not to go into the next room, whence the sounds seemed to proceed. After waiting with me a few minutes this sister went into the dining-room, and returned to me saying that our youngest sister was in the dining-room, and not crying at all. Then I at once thought there must be something the matter with my greatest friend, a girl of twenty-four, then in Lincolnshire. I wrote to her next day, asking her if, and at what hour on the previous night, she had been crying. In her next letter she said, 'Yes, she was suffering great pain with toothache just at the time, and was unable to restrain a few sobs.' ... This has been the only similar experience I have had."

I have seen the letter referred to, together with three others, extracts from which are given below. It will be seen that Miss Clark was mistaken in supposing that she wrote next day. The letter was actually begun three days after—on the Wednesday—and completed on the subsequent day, after the receipt of Miss Maughan's letter written on the Tuesday evening. In view, however, of the fact that Miss Clark wrote of her impression before the receipt of her friend's letter, the mistake seems not material.

From MISS CLARK.

"DUNBAR,
"Wednesday, August 22nd, 1888, 9 P.M.

"Were you crying on Sunday night near eleven o'clock? Because I distinctly heard some one crying, and supposed it was H. in the next room, but she was not there at all.

"Then I thought it must be something 'occult,' and that it might be you, and I felt so horrid."

"Thursday, August 23rd, 1888, 4.45 P.M.

"Thank you very much for your letter just come. I am so sorry your face was sore. Did it make you cry on Sunday night?"

From MISS MAUGHAN.

(The cover of this letter has been preserved, and bears the postmark, "Spilsby, Aug. 22nd, 1888.")

"Tuesday Evening, Aug. 21st, 1888.

"On Sunday we went to see Wroxham Broad. We had an immense amount of walking to do altogether, and I think I got a little cold in my face in the morning, and all night I suffered with it, and my face is swelled still."

In a second letter Miss Maughan writes:—

"Thursday, August 23rd, 11 P.M.

"I am putting poultices on my gums. I have never had such a huge swelling before, and it won't go down. It is so horribly uncomfortable."

"Saturday Afternoon.

"Thanks for letter. Yes, I was crying on Sunday night; only on account of the pain. It was awful, but I only cried quietly, as Edith was asleep...."

From Miss Clark.

"Monday, August 27th, 1888, 10.30 A.M.

"Thanks for your letter. I am sorry it was you crying. You don't seem at all struck. I was very much so. It was a subdued sort (sic) I heard, and thought H. was trying not to let it be heard. I shall always be afraid now of hearing things."

The sound here was of an inarticulate kind, nor was it immediately referred to the actual agent, and both these facts must be held to detract from the evidential value of the coincidence. In the next case, however, the voice, it will be seen, was at once recognised. The voice in this case awoke the percipient, and the impression should therefore be classed as a hallucination rather than as a dream, but it was of the "borderland" type. The uneasiness caused to the percipient, as attested by the letter and telegram sent, is sufficient proof that the impression was of a kind unusual in his experience.

No. 69.—From MR. WILLIAM TUDOR.

"AUBURNDALE, MASS., July 11th, 1890.

"Your favour[115] of the 30th ult., addressed to Mrs. Tudor, I will answer, as the incident more directly concerned me.

"Late in the evening of Monday, March 17th, near midnight, my nephew, Frederic Tudor, Jun., fell in front of an electric car going to Cambridge, was dragged some distance and so badly injured that for a time his life was in doubt, though he recovered with the loss of a foot. My wife heard of the accident on Tuesday afternoon and was much distressed all the night of Tuesday, and quite restless and wakeful.

"At this time I was in Gainesville, Florida, having important business there in connection with land purchases. On the night of Tuesday I went to bed rather early in a calm state of mind. I slept soundly, as I usually do. About midnight, as I should judge, I heard my wife call my name quite distinctly and waked instantly broad awake. I sat up in bed, but soon remembering where I was, fell asleep again and waked no more until morning. The next day the incident of the night made me quite uneasy, also during the following day, and as I was obliged to leave on the afternoon of Friday for a rough journey in the country I telegraphed to my wife to know what was the matter. I usually receive a letter from home every day, and on these days no letter arrived, which added to my uneasiness. No answer was received to my first telegram, for the very good reason that it was never delivered. I was obliged to start, however, in the afternoon of this day, Friday the 21st, and in the morning of the 22nd, from a small town called New Branford, sent another telegram, of which the following is the substance:—'Shall be gone three days; what has happened? Answer Branford.' I had a strong impression that something serious had occurred, that my wife was possibly ill, or some of the children were ill, or that some accident or death had occurred to a near relation, not however involving my immediate family. The following extracts from my letters will illustrate this feeling:—

"Letter of March 19th:

"'I thought you called me last night. I waked up and was much worried; I hope you are not ill.'

"Letter of March 22nd, from New Branford:

"'No answer comes to my telegram, although I left word to have it forwarded here. Surely some one would telegraph if you were ill. Surely you would let me know if anything had happened. I do not feel that anything serious has happened, and yet I cannot understand such a combination of circumstances. I have no confidence in these telegraph people, and daresay you never received my message.'

"Letter of March 24th, from Gainesville, after telegram giving account of accident was finally received:

"'I had a feeling that something was wrong but that you were all right.'

"Such I give as the substance of the facts in this case, which I trust may be interesting to the Society.
"WILLIAM TUDOR."

Mrs. W. Tudor writes:—

"AUBURNDALE, July 29th, 1890.

"My nephew's accident occurred on Monday night. Being out of town I heard of it on Tuesday afternoon. I immediately went to Boston and returned the same evening about nine o'clock, feeling greatly distressed. I wrote a letter to my husband after my return describing the accident and retired to bed rather late and passed a restless night. The telegram received from my husband rather surprised me, as he is not usually anxious when away from home. I believe this is all I know connected with this incident.
ELIZABETH TUDOR."

An account of a similar experience was sent to us in 1889 by the late Sir John Drummond Hay, K.C.B. He wrote that about 1 A.M. on some day in February 1879 he heard distinctly the voice of his daughter-in-law saying, "Oh, I wish papa only knew that Robert was ill." Sir John awoke Lady Drummond Hay to tell her what he had heard, and made a note of the incident in his diary. It was shortly ascertained that Mr. R. D. Hay had been taken seriously ill on that night, and that Mrs. Hay had used the words heard. Sir John's account is confirmed by Lady Hay and Mrs. R. D. Hay.

Visual Hallucinations.

The comparative frequency of auditory hallucinations, and especially the ease with which auditory illusions can be built up on a basis of real sound, render coincidences of the kind, even the best attested, of less service to support, however valuable as illustrating, the theory of telepathy. Visual hallucinations, however, present us with a much rarer type of impression, and one in which explanation by illusion is comparatively seldom possible. Telepathic hallucinations, like ordinary non-coincidental hallucinations, may assume various forms, and instances of grotesque and partially developed visual impressions are not wanting. Thus we have a case in which the face of a dying relative was recognised in the middle of a large ball of light like a firework (Journal, October 1891); and Mr. Sherer, of Amble, Northumberland, tells us that he saw reflected in a ship's compass the face of a young lady to whom he was engaged, at about the time of her death. In the following case the hallucination, though still far from complete, appears to have been more realistic and more fully developed.

No. 70.—From COUNTESS EUGENIE KAPNIST.

[Writing on June 24th, 1891, the percipient explains that in February 1889 she and her sister made the acquaintance at Talta of a Mr. P., who was at that time in an advanced stage of consumption. On one occasion, in the course of conversation, Mr. P. promised Countess Ina Kapnist, in the presence of the narrator, that should he die before her he would endeavour to appear to her. The Countess and her sister met Mr. P. occasionally after this conversation, and frequently saw him walking about in a nut-brown overcoat, which caused them some amusement. They left Talta, however, in May 1889, and in the course of a few months had completely forgotten Mr. P. and his wife, whom they regarded merely in the light of ordinary acquaintances. On the 12th March 1890 the two ladies, on their way home from the theatre, drove to the railway station with a friend who was to return at 1 A.M. to Tsarskoé.]

"On leaving the station," the Countess writes, "our servant went on before to find the carriage, so that on reaching the steps we found it had driven up and was waiting for us. My sister was the first to take her seat; I kept her waiting, as I descended the steps more slowly; the servant held the door of the landau open. With one foot on the step I suddenly stood still, arrested in the act of entering the carriage, and stunned with surprise. It was dark inside the carriage, and nevertheless, facing my sister and looking at her, I saw in a faint grey light which seemed unnatural, and which was clearest at the point on which my eyes were fixed, a face in profile, not so much vague as soft and transparent. This vision only lasted an instant, during which, however, my eyes noted the smallest details of the face, which seemed familiar to me; the rather sharp features, the hair parted a little on one side, the prominent nose, the sharp chin with its sparse, light brown beard. What strikes me when I think of it now is the fact that I could distinguish the different colours, though the greyish light which scarcely revealed the stranger would have been insufficient to enable me to distinguish them in ordinary circumstances. He had no hat, but wore a top-coat, such as is worn in the South, in colour a rather light nut-brown. His whole person had an air of great weariness and emaciation. The servant, much surprised that I did not enter the carriage but remained petrified on the step, thought I had trodden on my gown, and helped me to seat myself, while I asked my sister, as I took my place beside her, if it was really our carriage, so much was I confused and stupefied by seeing a stranger seated opposite her. It had not occurred to me that if a real person had been sitting there, neither my sister nor the footman would have remained so quietly face to face with him. When I was seated I no longer saw anything, and I asked my sister, 'Did you see nothing opposite you?' 'Nothing whatever, and what possessed you to ask as you got in if it was really our carriage?' she answered laughing. Then I told her what I have related above, describing my vision minutely. 'That familiar face,' said she, 'the hair parted at the side, the nut-brown coat, where have we seen it? Certainly nothing here answers to your description,' and we racked our brains without finding any clue. After we got home we related the incident to our mother; my description made her also remember vaguely a similar face. The next evening (March 12th) a young man of our acquaintance, Mr. Solovovo, came to see us. I told him also what had just occurred. We discussed it at some length, but fruitlessly. I still could not find the right name for the man of my vision, though I remembered quite well having seen a face exactly similar among my numerous acquaintances, but when and where? I could remember nothing, with my bad memory, which often fails me in this fashion. Some days later we were calling on Mr. Solovovo's grandmother. 'Do you know,' she said, 'what sad news I have just received from Talta? Mr. P. has just died, but I have heard no details.' My sister and I looked at each other. At the mention of this name the pointed face and the nut-brown top-coat found their possessor. My sister recognised him at the same time as myself, thanks to my minute description. When Mr. Solovovo entered I begged him to find the exact date of the death in the newspapers. The date of the death was given as the 14th of March, that is to say two days after my vision. I wrote to Talta for information, and learned that Mr. P. was confined to bed from the 24th November, and that from that time he was in a very feeble state, but sleep never left him. He slept so long and so profoundly, even during the last night of his life, that hopes were entertained of his improvement.

"We were much astonished that it was I who saw Mr. P., although he had promised to appear to my sister; but here I ought to add that before the occurrence mentioned above I had been clairvoyante a certain number of times; but this vision is certainly the one in which I distinguished details most clearly, even down to the colours of the face and dress.

"COMTESSE EUGENIE KAPNIST.
COMTESSE INA KAPNIST."

The second signature is that of the sister who was present at the time. The account above given, it should be explained, is a translation from the original French.

Our friend, Mr. Petrovo-Solovovo, through whom we obtained the account, writes:—

"I have much pleasure in certifying that the fact of Countess Kapnist's vision was mentioned, among others, to myself before the news of Mr. P.'s death came to St. Petersburg. I well remember seeing an announcement of his demise in the papers."

The narrative presents several points of interest. The deferred recognition is by no means without parallel (see case 68 and cases 26, 191, etc., in Phantasms), but in this case the interval which elapsed before the identification of the phantasm was unusually prolonged. Of course the fact that the vision was not identified beforehand is an element of weakness in the case, but as the deep impression left on the percipient by her vision seems well established, we have some warrant for assuming that the details have been accurately remembered. And if we may accept these details the case throws light upon the genesis of such hallucinations. That a dying man, whilst failing to impress the idea of his own personality upon the mind of a distant acquaintance, should succeed in calling up the image—to himself of quite secondary importance—of the clothes which he habitually wore, would seem at first sight a paradox. But the difficulty disappears if we recognise that the telepathic impression in such cases is probably received and the hallucination elaborated by a subconscious stratum of the intelligence, and that the picture is in due time flashed up thence fully formed to the ordinary consciousness. The image of the clothes worn by the agent, trivial and unessential to himself, would not improbably bulk more largely in the conception formed of him by an acquaintance, and might even find an echo in the percipient's consciousness when the image of the man himself had been obliterated by more recent memories. It is possible that the arrested development of the hallucination may have some connection with the imperfect recognition.

In the following case also the hallucination, though recognised, appears to have fallen short of complete embodiment.

No. 71.—From MISS L. CALDECOTT.

"February 11th, 1890.

"A sensation of faint glowing light in the darkest corner of the room made me first look in that direction (which happened to be next the door), and I then became aware of some one standing there, holding her hands outstretched as if in appeal. My first impression was that it was my sister, and I said, 'What's the matter?' but instantly saw who it was—a friend, who was at that time in Scotland. I felt completely riveted, but though my heart and pulses were beating unnaturally fast, neither much frightened nor surprised, only with a sort of impulse to get up and go after the figure, which I could not move to do. The form seemed to melt away into the soft glow, which then also died out. It was about half-past ten at night. I was at my home in ——. The date I am unable to fix nearer than that it was either August or September 1887.

"I was perfectly well. I was reading Carlyle's Sartor Resartus at the time. I was in no trouble or anxiety of any kind. Age about twenty-six.

"I had not seen my friend for about a year. I wrote to her the day after this happened, but, before my letter reached her, received one in which she told me of a great family trouble that was causing her much suffering, and saying that she had been longing for me to help her. Another letter in answer to mine then told me that her previous letter was written about 10.30 on the night I saw her, and that she had been wishing for my presence then most intensely. My friend died very shortly afterwards.

"No other persons were present at the time."

One of the agent's letters, written in reply to a letter from Miss Caldecott describing the apparition, has fortunately been preserved. The letter is dated August 16th, 1888. The following extracts were written down by Mrs. Sidgwick from Miss Caldecott's dictation:—

"'Your account is very strange, and I cannot quite make up my mind what to think of it. If it had not been that on that very Tuesday night I really was thinking of you very much, and wishing from the bottom of my heart that I could get at you, I should be inclined to say that your apparition was entirely subjective, and that you imagined you saw me. But if there is any connection between mind and mind, why should it not be so, and that it really was because I was wishing so hard I could be with you. You know that was the night I got back. I unpacked some of my things, and then began to write to you. It was then somewhere between eleven and twelve. At all events, I remember it struck twelve some time after I got into bed.... Tell me anything you can of my general appearance, and so forth. If you saw me as I was at the time it seems fairly conclusive it was my thinking of you caused you to see me, and not indigestion on your part, and entirely independent of me.'"

In conversation Mrs. Sidgwick learnt that the face and hands of the figure were seen most clearly. The hands appeared as if held out, palms upward. The dress was "rather indefinite. She looked as Miss Caldecott was accustomed to see her, but Miss Caldecott did not notice the dress particularly, and did not see the figure clearly at all below the knees." Miss Caldecott has had a visual hallucination on two other occasions, when she was in bed recovering from an illness. At the time of the vision above described she was in perfect health. It will be observed that the phantasm developed gradually, the percipient's attention having been first arrested by noticing the glow in the corner of the room. (Compare No. 84, Chapter XII., and the cases given in Phantasms of the Living, vol. i., chap. xii.) It will be seen that the percipient's recollection was at fault, both as to the date and the hour of the incident. But a discrepancy of this kind cannot be regarded as serious. Persons whose lives are not marked off—e.g., by changes of residence or occupation—into distinct periods, frequently experience a difficulty in assigning to the right year even an event of importance. But in this case the incident in itself was trivial, and there was no landmark by which to determine its relation, in point of time, to external events. A mistake in the date under such circumstances can scarcely be held to reflect upon the narrator's general accuracy.

In the next case also the apparition was preceded and accompanied by a luminous effect. In this instance, however, the percipient appears to have been in bed, and the hallucination should be classed as a "borderland" case. It will be seen that the apparition preceded the actual death by several hours, but apparently coincided with a period of severe illness.

No. 72.—From DR. CARAT.[116]

"25-bis RUE VICTOR-HUGO, MALAKOFF,
PARIS, July 20th, 1891.

"My mother, from the time she was twenty-five years old, had suffered from an affection of the lungs, but she had kept her health, although she had gone through many troubles. There was nothing to indicate what happened on the 11th June 1877—she succumbed in a few hours to an attack of inflammation of the lungs; indeed, I had two days before that date received a letter from her in which she showed no anxiety about her health.

"On the night of the 10th June 1877 I had what might be called a telepathic hallucination. I cannot state the hour with absolute precision, but it was between ten o'clock and midnight. About that time, 'between sleeping and waking,' I saw the end of my room lighted up, the darkness was illuminated by a silvery light (it is the only word I can think of), and I saw my mother gazing fixedly at me, with a sort of troubled expression. After a few seconds it all disappeared.

"Next day one of my friends—M. Laroche, now sub-director of the Conservateur Co., 18 Rue Lafayette—was breakfasting with me. I told him about my experience, and he too regarded it as a hallucination. At parting I said to him, 'Remember, Laroche, if anything happens, that I have told you this to-day.'

"Next day I received news of my mother's death.

"I have never on any other occasion experienced a hallucination, or anything approaching to it."

From M. LAROCHE.

[TO PROFESSOR RICHET.]

"SIR,—After an absence from home I have just returned and found awaiting me the letter which you did me the honour to write on the 7th inst., on the subject of a vision which my friend Dr. Carat had on the eve of his mother's death, at a time when he believed her to be in good health at Dunkirk. The circumstance was told me by Dr. Carat immediately after it occurred. You can make any use of my testimony you think fit.
"LAROCHE."

From the last case we pass, by an easy transition, to those completely externalised apparitions which cheat the senses by the life-like presentment of a human figure.

No. 73.—From MISS BERTA HURLY, Waterbeach Vicarage, Cambridge.

"February 1890.

"In the spring and summer of 1886 I often visited a poor woman called Evans, who lived in our parish, Caynham. She was very ill with a painful disease, and it was, as she said, a great pleasure when I went to see her; and I frequently sat with her and read to her. Towards the middle of October she was evidently growing weaker, but there seemed no immediate danger. I had not called on her for several days, and one evening I was standing in the dining-room after dinner with the rest of the family, when I saw the figure of a woman dressed like Mrs. Evans, in large apron and muslin cap, pass across the room from one door to the other, where she disappeared. I said, 'Who is that?' My mother said, 'What do you mean?' and I said, 'That woman who has just come in and walked over to the other door.' They all laughed at me, and said I was dreaming, but I felt sure it was Mrs. Evans, and next morning we heard she was dead.
"BERTA HURLY."

Miss Hurly's mother writes:—

"On referring to my diary for the month of October 1886, I find the following entry:—'19th. Berta startled us all after dinner, about 8.30 last evening, by saying she saw the figure of a woman pass across the dining-room, and that it was Mrs. Evans. This morning we hear the poor woman is dead.' On inquiring at the cottage we found she had become wandering in her mind, and at times unconscious, about the time she appeared to Berta, and died towards the morning.
"ANNIE ROSS.

"February 25th, 1890."

In this case the apparition, it will have been observed, was mistaken for a real person. We should not be justified, however, in concluding that the sensory effect produced was comparable in intensity to that which would have been caused had a real figure walked across the room. Perception is so largely a psychical process that it is difficult in any particular case to assign a definite value to the sensory element. And in a case of this kind, where, as appears to be generally the case with telepathic hallucinations, the vision is of brief duration, the difficulty is, of course, increased.

The hallucination in this, as in the previous case, occurred some hours before the death, and the evidential value of the coincidence is so far lessened. But it is perhaps worth while pointing out that we have no warrant in theory for concluding that in a case of death after prolonged illness the actual moment of dissolution is more favourable for the initiation of a telepathic impulse than any moment in the hours or days of illness preceding death; nor, if due allowance be made for the tendency to exaggerate the closeness of coincidence, is it clear that there is sufficient evidence at present to support any such conclusion. On the other hand, in cases of accident or momentary illness, we have more than one case where the impression is shown, on good evidence, to have occurred within, at most, an hour of death.[117] In the narrative which follows, the vision, it will be seen, took place some days before the actual death, during the crisis of a serious illness, of which the percipient was not at the time aware.

No. 74.—From MRS. MCALPINE, Garscadden, Bearsden, Glasgow.

The following account was enclosed in a letter, dated April 12th, 1892. We had previously received a somewhat briefer account, dated May 7th, 1891, which agrees in all essential particulars with the one printed below:—

"On the 25th March 1891 my husband and I were staying at Furness Abbey Hotel, Barrow-in-Furness, with a friend of ours, the late Mr. A. D. Bryce Douglas, of Seafield Tower, Ardrossan. He was managing director of the 'Naval Construction Armament Company,' and had resided at Furness Abbey Hotel for some eighteen months or more. He had invited us, along with a number of other friends, to the launch of the Empress of China. We breakfasted with Mr. Bryce Douglas on the day of the launch, the 25th, and afterwards saw the launch, had luncheon at the shipyard, and returned to the hotel. He appeared to be in his usual health and spirits (he was a powerfully-built man, and justly proud of his fine constitution). The following day (Thursday) he left with a party of gentlemen, to sail from Liverpool to Ardrossan, on the trial trip of the Empress of Japan (another large steamer which had been built at his yard).

"We remained on at the hotel for some days with our son Bob, aged twenty-three, who was staying there, superintending work which Mr. McAlpine was carrying on at Barrow.

"On the Monday night, the 30th, I went upstairs after dinner. On my way down again I saw Mr. Bryce Douglas standing in the doorway of his sitting-room. I saw him quite distinctly. He looked at me with a sad expression. He was wearing a cap which I had never seen him wear. I walked on and left him standing there. It was then about ten minutes to eight. I told my husband and Bob. We all felt alarmed, and we immediately sent the following telegram, 'How is Mr. Bryce Douglas?' to Miss Caldwell, his sister-in-law, who kept house for him at Seafield. It was too late for a reply that night. On Tuesday morning we received a wire from her; it ran thus: 'Mr. Bryce Douglas dangerously ill.' That telegram was the first intimation of his illness which reached Barrow. As will be seen in the account of his illness and death in the Barrow News, he died on the following Sunday, and we afterwards ascertained from Miss Caldwell that he was unconscious on Monday evening, at the time I saw him.

"My husband and son can corroborate this, and I have also letters which bear out my statements."

Mrs. McAlpine enclosed a copy of the Barrow News for April 11th, 1891, containing a memoir of Mr. Bryce Douglas, and a full account of his last illness and death. It appears from this account that he left Barrow on Thursday, March 26th, to join the steamer Empress of Japan. He was noticed by his friends to be far from well on Wednesday, the previous day, on the occasion of the launch of the Empress of China, and was advised to go home. He did not do so, however, until the Sunday, when he was put ashore at Ardrossan, and walked home to Seafield—a distance of nearly two miles. His medical man was sent for the same day, and the case was considered serious from the first, and on the following Thursday the doctors pronounced it hopeless. He died on April 5th, at about 5 A.M.

From the evidence which follows it seems clear that if any anxiety as to his health was felt before he left Barrow, as suggested in the newspaper report, Mrs. McAlpine knew nothing of it.

Mr. Myers writes:—

"I discussed the incident connected with the death of Mr. Bryce Douglas with Mr. and Mrs. McAlpine and Mr. McAlpine, Jun., on February 24th, 1892. I believe that their evidence has been very carefully given. Mr. McAlpine knew Mr. Bryce Douglas intimately. Mr. Bryce Douglas was a robust and vigorous man, and disliked ever to be supposed to be ill. Mr. McAlpine therefore felt great unwillingness to telegraph to him about his health, but from his previous knowledge of phenomena occurring to Mrs. McAlpine, he felt sure that her vision must be in some sense veridical."

Mrs. McAlpine's husband and his son corroborate as follows:—

"April 1892.

"I was at Barrow on the 25th of March of last year (1891), and distinctly remember the incident of the following Monday night. I can bear testimony to the statements made by my wife and son.
"ROBERT MCALPINE."

"GARSCADDEN HOUSE, April 4th, 1892.

"I was living for several months in the Furness Abbey Hotel, at Barrow-in-Furness, and I remember father and mother coming for a few days in order to see the launch of the Empress of China on the 25th of March 1891, and on the following day (Thursday) Mr. Bryce Douglas (who was then in his usual health) left with a party of friends on the trial trip of the Empress of Japan. I also distinctly remember that the following Monday night (30th) my father and I were sitting at the drawing-room fire after dinner, and mother came in looking very pale and startled, and said she had been upstairs and had seen Mr. Bryce Douglas standing at the door of his sitting-room (he had used this sitting-room for nearly two years). Both my father and I felt anxious, and after some discussion we sent a telegram to Mr. Bryce Douglas's residence at Ardrossan asking how he was, and the following morning had the reply, 'Keeping better, but not out of danger,' or words to that effect. I can assert positively that no one in Barrow knew of his illness until after the receipt of that telegram.
"ROBERT MCALPINE, JUN."

Letters corroborating the above account have also been received from Miss Caldwell, sister-in-law to Mr. Bryce Douglas, to whom the telegram was sent, and who writes: "I was very much surprised at receiving it;" from Mrs. Scarlett, the wife of the proprietor of the Furness Abbey Hotel, and from Miss Charlton, of Barrow-in-Furness, both of whom were cognisant of the circumstances at the time.[118]

Mrs. McAlpine has had several other apparently telepathic experiences, one of them a vision coinciding with the death of the infant child of her brother.

In the next case the vision occurred about two hours after the actual death.

No. 75.—From MISS MABEL GORE BOOTH.

"LISSADELL, SLIGO, February 1891.

"On the 10th of April 1889, at about half-past nine o'clock A.M., my youngest brother and I were going down a short flight of stairs leading to the kitchen, to fetch food for my chickens, as usual. We were about half-way down, my brother a few steps in advance of me, when he suddenly said, 'Why, there's John Blaney; I didn't know he was in the house!' John Blaney was a boy who lived not far from us, and he had been employed in the house as hall-boy not long before. I said that I was sure it was not he (for I knew he had left some months previously on account of ill-health), and looked down into the passage, but saw no one. The passage was a long one, with a rather sharp turn in it, so we ran quickly down the last few steps and looked round the corner, but nobody was there, and the only door he could have gone through was shut. As we went upstairs my brother said, 'How pale and ill John looked, and why did he stare so?' I asked what he was doing. My brother answered that he had his sleeves turned up, and was wearing a large green apron, such as the footmen always wear at their work. An hour or two afterwards I asked my maid how long John Blaney had been back in the house? She seemed much surprised, and said, 'Didn't you hear, miss, that he died this morning?' On inquiry we found he had died about two hours before my brother saw him. My mother did not wish that my brother should be told this, but he heard of it somehow, and at once declared that he must have seen his ghost.
"MABEL OLIVE GORE BOOTH."

The percipient's independent account is as follows:—

"March 1891.

"We were going downstairs to get food for Mabel's fowl, when I saw John Blaney walking round the corner. I said to Mabel, 'That's John Blaney!' but she could not see him. When we came up afterwards we found he was dead. He seemed to me to look rather ill. He looked yellow; his eyes looked hollow, and he had a green apron on.
"MORDAUNT GORE BOOTH."

We have received the following confirmation of the date of death:—

"I certify from the parish register of deaths that John Blaney (Dunfore) was interred on the 12th day of April 1889, having died on the 10th day of April 1889.
"P. J. SHEMAGHS, C.C..

"The Presbytery, Ballingal, Sligo,
"10th February 1891."

Mr. Myers originally received an account of the incident viva voce from Lady Gore Booth, and subsequently at his request the percipient and his sister, aged at the time ten and fifteen respectively, wrote the accounts given above.

Lady Gore Booth writes:—

"May 31st, 1890.

"When my little boy came upstairs and told us he had seen John Blaney, we thought nothing of it till some hours after, when we heard that he was dead. Then, for fear of frightening the children, I avoided any allusion to what he had told us, and asked every one else to do the same. Probably by now he has forgotten all about it, but it certainly was very remarkable, especially as only one child saw him, and they were standing together. The place where he seems to have appeared was in the passage outside the pantry door, where John Blaney's work always took him. My boy is a very matter-of-fact sort of boy, and I never heard of his having any other hallucination."

The interval in this case between the death and the vision may probably be explained as due to the telepathic influence received from the dying boy having remained latent in the percipient's mind, awaiting a favourable opportunity for emerging to consciousness. But it seems possible that the message may have come, not from the dying boy, but from some member of the household who was aware of the death. It is to be noted that Miss Gore Booth did not share her brother's experience.

Hallucinations Affecting Two Senses.

So far we have dealt with hallucinations of one sense only. In the next two cases, it will be seen, both sight and hearing appear to have been affected.

No. 76.—From the REV. MATTHEW FROST.

"BOWERS GIFFORD, ESSEX, January 30th, 1891.

"The first Thursday in April 1881, while sitting at tea with my back to the window and talking with my wife in the usual way, I plainly heard a rap at the window, and looking round I said to my wife, 'Why, there's my grandmother,' and went to the door, but could not see any one; and still feeling sure it was my grandmother, and knowing, though eighty-three years of age, she was very active and fond of a joke, I went round the house, but could not see any one. My wife did not hear it. On the following Saturday I had news my grandmother died in Yorkshire about half-an-hour before the time I heard the rapping. The last time I saw her alive I promised, if well, I would attend her funeral; that [was] some two years before. I was in good health [and] had no trouble, [age] twenty-six years. I did not know that my grandmother was ill."

Mrs. Frost writes:—

"January 30th, 1891.

"I beg to certify that I perfectly remember all the circumstances my husband has named, but I heard and saw nothing myself."

The house (seen by Mrs. Sidgwick) in which Mr. Frost was living when the event occurred stands some way back from the road in a garden, and the door into the garden opens out of the sitting-room, so that he must have got to the door much too quickly, if he went at once, for any one to have got away unseen by him.

Professor Sidgwick called on Mr. Frost in June 1892, and learned from him that he had last seen his grandmother in 1878, on which occasion she had promised, if possible, to appear to him at her death. On first seeing the figure Mr. Frost thought that his grandmother had actually come in the flesh to surprise him. It was full daylight, and had there been a real knock and a real presence Mrs. Frost must have both heard and seen. Mr. Frost had no cause for anxiety about his grandmother, and has had no other experience of this kind. News of the death came by letter, and Mrs. Frost remembers the letter, and that she noticed the coincidence at the time.

In the next case the order of perception is reversed; the visual preceded the auditory image. The narrative was procured for us by M. Aksakof, of 6 Nevsky Prospect, St. Petersburg, who also translated the original Russian into French, from which we have translated it into English.

No. 77.—From M. A——.

"It was at Milan, on the 10th (22nd) of October 1888. I was staying at the Hotel Ancora. After dinner, at about seven o'clock, I was seated on the sofa, reading a newspaper. My wife was resting in the same room on a couch, behind a curtain. The room was lighted by a lamp upon the table near which I was sitting reading. Suddenly I saw against the background of the door, which was opposite me, my father's face. He wore as usual a black surtout, and was deadly pale. At that moment I heard quite close to my ear a voice which said to me, 'A telegram is coming to say your father is dead.' All this only took a few seconds. I started up and rushed towards my wife, but not to startle her I said nothing to her about it. To explain my sudden movement I exclaimed 'Look, do you not see that the kettle is boiling over!'... On the evening of the same day, about eleven o'clock, we were taking tea in the company of several other people, among whom were Madame Y., her daughter E. Y., formerly an actress at the Court Theatre, and Mademoiselle M., who is now living in Florence. All at once there was a knock at the door, and the concierge presented a telegram. Pale with emotion I immediately exclaimed, 'I know my father is dead; I have seen....' The telegram contained these words, 'Papa dead suddenly.—Olga.' It was a telegram from my sister living at St. Petersburg. I learned later that my father had committed suicide on the morning of the same day.
"(Signed) E. A."

Madame A. writes:—

"I was present at the time, and I testify to the accuracy of the account."

M. Aksakof wrote to us that he had seen the original telegram, which ran—

"Ricevuto il 22,[1] 1888. Milano, Petersbourg, data 22,[119] ore e minute, 8.40. 'Papa mort subitement.—Olga.'"

Another case, in which the senses affected were those of touch and hearing, has been given to us by Mr. Malleson. In 1874 or 1875 he went for a short sea voyage, taking with him his young son. On the night of his departure, while in a dreamy, half-conscious state, he imagined that his son had fallen overboard, and that he himself was bringing the sad news to his wife. On his return home he learned that on that night Mrs. Malleson had been awakened by feeling some one leaning over her. She put out her arm and, as she thought, touched her husband's coat. She had no doubt that it was her husband's bodily presence, spoke to him, and heard him answer, "Yes, I have come back." But on her continuing, "Where is Eddy?" she received no reply, and felt much alarmed. There are several instances recorded of tactile hallucinations accompanying visual and auditory phantasms.[120]

CHAPTER XII.

We have now to discuss that numerous class of cases in which the phantasm was perceived by two or more persons. The difficulties of interpretation which such cases present are enhanced for us by the various defects to which the evidence is here peculiarly liable. Many so-called cases of collective apparition, especially when the figure is seen out-of-doors, were probably real men and women.[121] In others we have to deal with a collective illusion, a quasi-hallucinatory superstructure built up by each witness, aided by hints from the others, on a common sensory basis. Such, for instance, appears to us the most probable interpretation of the following singular case.

From MRS. ALDERSON.

"My son and I were staying in the town of Bonchurch (Isle of Wight) last Easter vacation (1886). Our lodgings were close to the sea, and the garden of our house abutted on the beach, and there were no trees or bushes in it high enough to intercep our view. The evening of Easter Sunday was so fine that when Miss Jowett (the landlady's daughter) brought in the lamp, I begged her not to pull down the blinds, and lay on the sofa looking out at the sea, while my son was reading at the table. Owing to a letter I had just received from my sister at home, stating that one of the servants had again seen 'the old lady,' my thoughts had been directed towards ghosts and such things. But I was not a little astonished when, on presently looking out of the window, I saw the figure of a woman standing at the edge of the verandah. She appeared to be a broad woman, and not tall (Mrs. A. is tall), and to wear an old-fashioned bonnet, and white gloves on her closed hands. As it was dark the figure was only outlined against the sky, and I could not distinguish any other details. It was, however, opaque, and not in any way transparent, just as if it had been a real person. I looked at it for some time, and then looked away. When, after a time, I looked again, the woman's hands had disappeared behind what appeared to be a white marble cross, with a little bit of the top broken off, and with a railing on one side of the woman and the cross, such as one sometimes sees in graveyards.

"After looking at this apparition, which remained motionless, for some time, about twenty minutes, perhaps, I asked my son [then an undergraduate at B.N.C.] to come and to look out of the window, and tell me what he saw. He exclaimed, 'What an uncanny sight!' and described the woman and the cross exactly as I saw it. I then rang the bell, and when Miss J. answered it, I asked her also to look out of the window and tell me what she saw, and she also described the woman and the cross, just as they appeared to my son and myself. Some one suggested that it might be a reflection of some sort, and we all looked about the room to see whether there was anything in it that could cause such a reflection, but came to the conclusion that there was nothing to account for it."

Mr. Alderson writes:—

"Staying at B. (Isle of Wight) during the Easter vacation of 1886, I remember distinctly seeing an apparition in the form of a woman with her hands clasped on the top of a cross. The cross looked old and worn, as one sees in churchyards. My mother drew my attention to the figure, and after we had watched it for some time we rang the bell and asked the servant if she saw the figure. She said she did. I then went out to the verandah (where the figure was), and immediately it vanished.
"E. H. ALDERSON."

A corresponding account of the incident has been received from Miss Jowett, the landlady's daughter. We owe the accounts of the incident to Mr. F. Schiller, who investigated the matter for the Oxford Phasmatological Society.

The persistency of the vision in this case is a feature very rarely found in cases of undoubted hallucination, and the fact that it was only seen through glass suggests that the whole appearance was due to a reflection of some kind, although it must be admitted that this explanation, which was considered and rejected by the percipients at the time, cannot be accommodated to the facts without difficulty.

In the epidemics of religious hallucination so common in the Middle Ages, and still occurring from time to time in Catholic countries, it would appear that as a rule there is no objective basis for the perception. When, as at Knock, in Ireland, a few years ago, the figure of the Virgin or a Saint is said to have been seen by a large number of persons simultaneously, it seems probable that in those who really saw the figure the hallucination was due to repeated verbal suggestions acting on minds which, under the influence of strong emotion, were temporarily in a state analogous to that of trance. The nearest analogy to such cases is no doubt to be found in hypnotism. A collective hallucination can be imposed upon a whole roomful of hypnotised persons by the mere command of the operator. But not the most explicit verbal suggestion—si vera est fabula—could make the courtiers in the fairy tale see the king's clothes; and there is no evidence that with normal persons in full possession of their ordinary faculties any hints derivable from look, word, or gesture could suffice to originate an instantaneous hallucination. Still, the possibility of such an explanation under certain conditions should perhaps be kept in view. (See later, Chapter XVI.)

A possible explanation of a different kind has been already illustrated by the story quoted on page 153, where it was shown that a solitary hallucination had grown in the course of five-and-twenty years into a collective vision. The narrator in this case was a child at the time of the alleged experience. Children and uneducated persons generally, who are not prone to analyse their own sensations, seem liable after a certain interval to mistake the image called up by another's recital for an actual experience of their own; and this is especially likely to occur when the auditor was present at the time of the experience or familiar with the scene of the occurrence. Indeed, most persons who visualise with moderate facility are probably liable to this form of mistake on a small scale. I had about five years since an example of this in my own case. A friend had described to me minutely some simple apparatus of his own invention. About a year later he brought the apparatus to London and offered to show it to me. I replied that I had already seen it; but on being confronted with it I found the proportions and general appearance of the actual object quite unlike my mental image of it. I had in fact never seen the object, but the image which I had mentally constructed to enable me to follow my friend's description a year before remained so vivid as to lead me to believe that it was founded on actual sensation. But a sensory hallucination is too striking and unusual an experience to be readily feigned, and it is very improbable that the memory of educated persons, at any rate, would be untrustworthy as regards their recent experiences of the kind. As already explained, the accounts of this and other forms of telepathic affection included in this book have in almost all cases been written down within ten years of the event.

When the fullest allowance has been made for all possible explanations we find a considerable number of cases remaining of which no other account can be given than that they are apparitions, due to no ascertained cause, which are perceived by two or more persons simultaneously. That the collective perception proves the objective, or—to use a less ambiguous word—the material existence of the thing perceived, is probably held now by few persons outside the ranks of professed mystics. Apart from the theoretical difficulties of such a hypothesis—difficulties which have by no means been surmounted by the invocation of fixed ether, intercalary vortex rings, space of four dimensions, and other subtler forms of the theory evolved in recent times,—it is to be noted that no facts of any significance have been adduced to support it. There is at present no trustworthy evidence that an apparition has ever been weighed or photographed,[122] or submitted to spectroscopic or chemical analysis. But, indeed, the theory betrays its own origin in a prescientific age; and without formal destruction by argument it has shared in the euthanasia which has overtaken many other pious opinions found inadequate to the facts. The phenomena which it professes to explain are paralleled in all their essential features by other phenomena, for which even its supporters would hardly be rash enough to claim substantial reality; and as the phantasms now to be discussed bear in all points a close resemblance to those already described as occurring to solitary percipients, probably no one who accepts the one class of appearances as hallucinatory will hesitate to accept the other.

But when the hallucinatory character of collectively-perceived, or, as they may be styled for brevity, "collective" phantasms is recognised, there are difficulties of interpretation to be dealt with. On the telepathic hypothesis there are two modes in which a collective hallucination may be conceived to originate: (a) it may be communicated direct from a third person to each of the percipients; or (b) it may be communicate by telepathic infection from one percipient to another. The first explanation involves in most cases, as Mr. Gurney has pointed out (Phantasms of the Living, vol. ii. pp. 171, 172), serious theoretical difficulties. For on the view to which we are led by a review of all the evidence, a telepathic hallucination, like any other, is, as a rule, the work of the percipient's mind, and is not transferred ready made from the agent. As such it is frequently of slow growth, and there are grounds for believing that it is sometimes not externalised for the percipient's senses until some hours after the receipt of the original telepathic impulse. We should hardly expect, therefore, to find two percipients independently developing similar hallucinations, and at the same moment. But in most of the cases of collective hallucination hitherto reported, the hallucinations have been, so far as could be ascertained, similar and simultaneous, so as indeed to suggest a real figure rather than a hallucination. Moreover, in well-attested recent narratives it rarely happens that a connection between the hallucination and any unusual state of the person represented is clearly established; whilst in many, perhaps most cases, the hallucination has not been recognised as resembling any person known to either percipient, and has in some instances been purely grotesque. In most cases, therefore, it seems easier to believe that we have to deal with a contagious hallucination, which, whether initiated by a telepathic impulse, or purely subjective in its origin, has been transferred telepathically from the original percipient to others in his company at the time. In some cases, indeed, it is no doubt permissible, as suggested by Mr. Gurney, to conjecture that the minds of all the percipients may have been directly influenced by the agent, and that subsequently an overflow from the mind of one of the percipients may have served to reinforce the original impulse, and determine the exact moment of the explosion in his co-percipients, just as the current regulates the exact hour of striking in electrically synchronised clocks. Or again, the mind of each percipient may react upon the others. There are, however, a few cases where the percipients appear to have had experiences relating to the same event neither precisely similar nor simultaneous, which seem to require the hypothesis of an impulse in each case directly derived from the person represented. Some cases of the kind are given in Phantasms of the Living (vol. i. p. 362; vol. ii. 173-183), and others will be cited in the latter part of this chapter. It will be more convenient, however, to begin by giving examples of the ordinary type of collective hallucination.

Collective Auditory Hallucinations.

No. 78.—From MR. C. H. CARY.

"SECRETARY'S OFFICE, GENERAL POST OFFICE,
29th March 1892.

"At Bow, London, on the 8th March 1875, at about 8.30 P.M., I heard a voice say, 'Joseph, Joseph.' I was talking with my father and cousin (Joseph Cary) about the battle of Balaclava. I was in good health, etc. My age was nearly thirteen. All three of us heard the voice, which we suppose to have been that of Joseph's grandmother."[123]

In conversation, Mr. Cary explained to me that the voice was not recognised by any of those who heard it. It was indeed at first mistaken for the voice of Mrs. Cary (Mr. C. H. Cary's mother), who was at the time in an adjoining room, but who had not spoken. A telegram announcing the grandmother's death was received on the day following, and Mr. Joseph Cary then said that the voice must have been that of his grandmother. Mr. C. H. Cary had never seen this lady.

Mr. R. H. Cary writes from 49 Gladsmuir Road, London, N.:—

"March 31st, 1892.

"With reference to your inquiry concerning the voice which was heard at the time of the late Mrs. Victor's death, I am able to state that my son, my nephew, and myself were sitting together, and we all heard it distinctly. This occurred about fourteen years ago. The account given by my son exactly coincides with my own recollection. "R. H. CARY."

We have ascertained from the Registrar-General that Mary Victor, widow of Thomas Victor, farmer, died at Linwood, Paul, Penzance, on March 8th, 1875, from bronchitis.

Mr. C. H. Cary adds that though Mrs. Victor was known to be ill, her death was not thought to be imminent. He has himself had other auditory hallucinations—viz., the hearing of footsteps on two or three occasions at about the time of the death of a relation.

In the next case the voice heard did not correspond with any external event. It was, as it were, "the after-image" of a voice once familiar in the house.

No. 79.—From MISS ANNIE NEWBOLD.

"May 7th, 1892.

"Florence N., a little child of under four years old, to whom I was very much attached, died on May 23rd, 1889. She lived in the house where I have my studio, and during the daytime was invariably with me. There were no other children in the house, and she was a general pet. I was ill for some time after her death, and one morning in July 1889 I went to see Mrs. N. We were sitting talking in her room on the ground-floor when I suddenly heard the child's voice distinctly call 'Miss Boo' (her name for me). I was about to answer, when I remembered that it could be no living voice and so continued my sentence, thinking that I would say nothing about the occurrence to her mother. At that moment Mrs. N. turned to me and said, 'Miss Newbold, did you hear that?' 'Yes,' I replied, 'what was it?' And she said, 'My little child, and she called "Miss Boo."' We both noticed that the sound came from below, as if she were standing in the kitchen doorway underneath the room in which we were sitting. There was no possibility of its being another child, as there was not one in the house. The upper floors were empty, too, at the time. I can vouch for the accuracy of this account. "ANNIE NEWBOLD."

Mrs. N. writes:—

"Miss Newbold came to see me one morning in July 1889, about two months after my only child's death. We were in my room talking when I distinctly heard my little girl's voice call 'Miss Boo.' I asked Miss Newbold if she had heard anything and she said 'Yes. What was it?' I replied, 'My little child, and she said "Miss Boo."'
"LIZZIE N."

In answer to questions, Miss Newbold writes:—

"1. Mrs. N. never heard her little girl's voice on any other occasion.

"2. We were not talking about the little girl at the time, nor upon any subject connected with her. I, however, had a box of roses on my knee, which I was mechanically sorting, and putting all the white ones on one side to send to the little child's grave.

"3. Mrs. N. has never heard any other voices, either before or since. Neither have I; but I have three or four times in my life been conscious of a presence without being able to explain definitely what it was I felt. I have never seen anything."[124]

Collective Visual Hallucinations.

Passing to visual phantasms, we will begin by citing a case in which there can be little doubt that the hallucination was purely subjective; a better case for illustrating the hypothesis of the infectious character of casual hallucination could hardly be found. It is to be noted indeed that the second percipient saw the apparition on the first occasion only after a distinct verbal suggestion, but, as already stated, there is no evidence that a single verbal suggestion can produce a hallucination in a healthy person in full possession of his normal faculties.

No. 80.—From MRS. GREIFFENBERG and MRS. ERNI-GREIFFENBERG.

Mr. F. C. S. Schiller, through whom the account was obtained, tells us that he heard the story in October 1890 from the two percipients. The following account was put together by him from an account (which he also sent us) written by Mrs. Erni-Greiffenberg, and various conversations which he had with both ladies on the subject. He afterwards obtained their signatures to it. Neither of them has had any other hallucinatory experience.

"December 14th, 1890.

"In the beginning of the summer of 1884 we were sitting at dinner at home as usual, in the middle of the day. In the midst of the conversation I noticed my mother suddenly looking down at something beneath the table. I inquired whether she had dropped anything, and received the answer, 'No, but I wonder how that cat can have got into the room?' Looking underneath the table, I was surprised to see a large white Angora cat beside my mother's chair. We both got up, and I opened the door to let the cat out. She marched round the table, went noiselessly out of the door, and when about half-way down the passage turned round and faced us. For a short time she regularly stared at us with her green eyes, then she dissolved away, like a mist, under our eyes.

"Even apart from the mode of her disappearance, we felt convinced that the cat could not have been a real one, as we neither had one of our own, nor knew of any that would answer to the description in the place, and so this appearance made an unpleasant impression upon us.

"This impression was, however, greatly enhanced by what happened in the following year, 1885, when we were staying in Leipzig with my married sister (the daughter of Mrs. Greiffenberg). We had come home one afternoon from a walk, when, on opening the door of the flat, we were met in the hall by the same white cat. It proceeded down the passage in front of us, and looked at us with the same melancholy gaze. When it got to the door of the cellar (which was locked), it again dissolved into nothing.

"On this occasion also it was first seen by my mother, and we were both impressed by the uncanny and gruesome character of the appearance. In this case, also, the cat could not have been a real one, as there was no such cat in the neighbourhood."

A very striking example of a collective hallucination, apparently of the same type, was given to us by Mrs. Ward. She and her husband, the late E. M. Ward, R.A., in 1851 saw in their bedroom two small pear-shaped lights which, when touched, broke into small luminous fragments. (Phantasms of the Living, vol. ii. p. 193.) We have also a case in which our informant, when a girl of fifteen, with another girl, saw in the middle of the room, at a dancing class, a hallucinatory chair. Yet another case is recorded by Miss Foy, a careful observer, who had been troubled for some time with a hallucinatory skeleton, the subjective character of which she fully recognised. On one occasion when in hospital the hallucination recurred, and appears to have been seen also by the patient in the adjoining bed, to whom no hint of any kind had been given. In both these cases, however, the evidence depends upon a single memory. We have another case in which a singular luminous body—apparently a hallucination of a rudimentary kind—was perceived by two witnesses coincidently with the death of a near relative of one of them. The Rev. A. T. S. Goodrick, from whom I originally received the account viva voce, was walking with a friend across a moor in Sutherlandshire

"when there suddenly arose, to all appearance out of the road between our feet as we walked, a ball of fire, about the size of an 18lb. cannon ball. It was of an orange-red colour, and there seemed to be a kind of rotatory motion in it, not unlike a firework of some description.... It seemed to move forward with us, at a distance of not more than 6 inches in front, and at the same time rose pretty swiftly breast high ... and then disappeared and left no trace."

Mr. Goodrick adds that a light rain was falling; but there was no thunderstorm.

From uneducated witnesses such an account no doubt would have but little value. A will-o'-the-wisp in an adjoining marsh, or even a flash of lightning, might in such a case form a sufficient basis for the story. And even assuming that the account here given accurately describes what was seen, it is difficult to feel certain that the appearance was hallucinatory. But if it were of a physical nature, it is certainly not easy to conjecture what it could have been, and the coincidence with the death is an additional argument for regarding the phenomenon as hallucinatory.