{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_51086/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_51086","id":"gutenberg_51086","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51086","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Biographies","Category: History - Modern (1750+)","Category: History - Warfare","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Future life","Lodge, Raymond, 1889-1915 (Spirit)","Spiritualism","World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives, British"],"text":"Transcriber's Note: Italic text is denoted by _underscores_ and bold\ntext by =equal signs=.\n\nThe original text contains many unclosed quotes that are obviously\nthe author's intention. These have been left as the original.\n\nLine 19979: \"bone or feather or flesh. Study may superadd properties\"\n'superadd' could be 'separate'.\n\nEvery effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as\npossible.\n\nMinor typographical errors have been corrected.\n\nVariations in hyphenation of the word \"Sandboat/Sand-boat\" have been\nleft unchanged.\n\nIn the original version the formatting of the conversations between\nthe real world and the spirit world is often confusing. In this\ntranscripton I have adopted the following layout. Conversations or\nquestions arising from the real world - left justified. Conversations\nor questions arising from the spirit world and anotations by\nthe author within these cross world conversations are shown as\nblockquotes.\n\nPart II Chap. II: \"prope funeratus / arboris ictu\" changed to \"prope\nfuneratus arboris ictu\" to avoid unwanted '/'.\n\nLine 1568: SO_{2} = SO[subscript]2 i.e. Sulphur Dioxide.\n\nLine 6389: \"(Mrs. Leonard here repeated the alphabet......\" no\nclosing bracket in the original. Left unchanged.\n\nLine 10366: Unnecessary \")\" removed. Typographical error.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n RAYMOND\n OR\n LIFE AND DEATH\n\nBY SIR OLIVER J. LODGE\n\n\n Raymond, or Life and Death\n Modern Problems\n The Substance of Faith, Allied with Science\n Man and the Universe\n The Survival of Man\n Reason and Belief\n The War and After\n\n[Illustration: RAYMOND]\n\n\n\n\n RAYMOND\n OR\n LIFE AND DEATH\n\n WITH EXAMPLES OF THE EVIDENCE\n FOR SURVIVAL OF MEMORY AND AFFECTION\n AFTER DEATH\n\n BY\n Sir OLIVER J. LODGE\n\n WITH EIGHTEEN ILLUSTRATIONS\n\n NEW YORK\n GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY\n\n\n\n\n COPYRIGHT, 1916,\n BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY\n\n PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA\n\n\n\n\n TO\n HIS MOTHER AND FAMILY\n\n WITH GRATITUDE FOR PERMISSION\n TO USE PRIVATE MATERIAL\n FOR PUBLIC ENDS\n\n\n\n\n \"Divine must be\n That triumph, when the very worst, the pain,\n And even the prospect of our brethren slain,\n Hath something in it which the heart enjoys.\"\n\n WORDSWORTH, _SONNET_ XXVI.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nThis book is named after my son who was killed in the War.\n\nIt is divided into three parts. In the first part some idea of the\nkind of life lived and the spirit shown by any number of youths,\nfully engaged in civil occupations, who joined for service when war\nbroke out and went to the Front, is illustrated by extracts from his\nletters. The object of this portion is to engender a friendly feeling\ntowards the writer of the letters, so that whatever more has to be\nsaid in the sequel may not have the inevitable dulness of details\nconcerning an entire stranger. This is the sole object of this\nportion. The letters are not supposed to be remarkable; though as a\npicture of part of the life at the Front during the 1915 phase of the\nwar they are interesting, as many other such letters must have been.\n\nThe second part gives specimens of what at present are considered\nby most people unusual communications; though these again are in\nmany respects of an ordinary type, and will be recognised as such\nby other bereaved persons who have had similar messages. In a few\nparticulars, indeed, those here quoted have rather special features,\nby reason of the assistance given by the group of my friends \"on the\nother side\" who had closely studied the subject. It is partly owing\nto the urgency therein indicated that I have thought it my duty to\nspeak out, though it may well be believed that it is not without\nhesitation that I have ventured thus to obtrude family affairs. I\nshould not have done so were it not that the amount of premature and\nunnatural bereavement at the present time is so appalling that the\npain caused by exposing one's own sorrow and its alleviation, to\npossible scoffers, becomes almost negligible in view of the service\nwhich it is legitimate to hope may thus be rendered to mourners, if\nthey can derive comfort by learning that communication across the\ngulf is possible. Incidentally I have to thank those friends, some\nof them previously unknown, who have in the same spirit allowed the\nnames of loved ones to appear in this book, and I am grateful for the\nhelp which one or two of those friends have accorded. Some few more\nperhaps may be thus led to pay critical attention to any assurance of\ncontinued and happy and useful existence which may reach them from\nthe other side.\n\nThe third part of the book is of a more expository character, and is\ndesigned to help people in general to realise that this subject is\nnot the bugbear which ignorance and prejudice have made it, that it\nbelongs to a coherent system of thought full of new facts of which\ncontinued study is necessary, that it is subject to a law and order\nof its own, and that though comparatively in its infancy it is a\ngenuine branch of psychological science. This third part is called\n\"Life and Death,\" because these are the two great undeniable facts\nwhich concern everybody, and in which it is natural for every one\nto feel a keen interest, if they once begin to realise that such\ninterest is not futile, and that it is possible to learn something\nreal about them. It may be willingly admitted that these chapters are\ninadequate to the magnitude of the subject, but it is hoped that they\nare of a usefully introductory character.\n\nThe \"In Memoriam\" chapter of Part I is no doubt chiefly of interest\nto family and friends; but everybody is very friendly, and under the\ncircumstances it will be excused.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n PAGE\n\n PREFACE vii\n\n\n PART ONE: NORMAL PORTION\n\n CHAPTER\n\n I. IN MEMORIAM 3\n\n II. LETTERS FROM THE FRONT 15\n\n III. LETTERS FROM OFFICERS 73\n\n\n PART TWO: SUPERNORMAL PORTION\n\n INTRODUCTION 83\n\n I. ELEMENTARY EXPLANATION 86\n\n II. THE 'FAUNUS' MESSAGE 90\n\n III. SEQUEL TO THE 'FAUNUS' MESSAGE 96\n\n IV. THE GROUP PHOTOGRAPH 105\n\n V. BEGINNING OF HISTORICAL RECORD 117\n\n VI. FIRST SITTING OF O. J. L. WITH MRS. LEONARD 125\n\n VII. FIRST PETERS SITTING (Anonymous) 129\n\n VIII. A TABLE SITTING 137\n\n IX. ATTEMPTS AT STRICTER EVIDENCE 151\n\n X. RECORD CONTINUED 158\n\n XI. FIRST SITTING OF ALEC 162\n\n XII. GENERAL REMARKS ON CONVERSATIONAL REPORTS AND\n ON CROSS-CORRESPONDENCES 171\n\n XIII. AN O. J. L. SITTING WITH PETERS 174\n\n XIV. FIRST SITTING OF LIONEL (Anonymous) 180\n\n XV. M. F. A. L. SITTING OF NOVEMBER 26 188\n\n XVI. O. J. L. SITTING OF DECEMBER 3 191\n\n XVII. K. K. AUTOMATIC WRITING 205\n\n XVIII. FIRST SITTING OF ALEC WITH MRS. LEONARD 208\n\n XIX. PRIVATE SITTINGS AT MARIEMONT 217\n\n XX. A FEW MORE RECORDS, WITH SOME UNVERIFIABLE MATTER 226\n\n XXI. TWO EVIDENTIAL SITTINGS OF MARCH 3 237\n\n XXII. MORE UNVERIFIABLE MATTER 262\n\n XXIII. A FEW ISOLATED INCIDENTS 271\n\n\n PART THREE: LIFE AND DEATH\n\n INTRODUCTION 283\n\n I. THE MEANING OF THE TERM LIFE 289\n\n II. THE MEANING OF THE TERM DEATH 296\n\n III. DEATH AND DECAY 302\n\n IV. CONTINUED EXISTENCE 308\n\n V. PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE 312\n\n VI. INTERACTION OF MIND AND MATTER 317\n\n VII. 'RESURRECTION OF THE BODY' 322\n\n VIII. MIND AND BRAIN 326\n\n IX. LIFE AND CONSCIOUSNESS 332\n\n X. ON MEANS OF COMMUNICATION 338\n\n XI. ON THE FACT OF SUPERNORMAL COMMUNICATION 345\n\n XII. ON THE CONTENTION THAT ALL PSYCHIC COMMUNICATIONS\n ARE OF A TRIVIAL NATURE AND DEAL WITH\n INSIGNIFICANT TOPICS 349\n\n XIII. ON THE MANNER OF COMMUNICATION 355\n\n XIV. VARIOUS PSYCHO-PHYSICAL METHODS 362\n\n XV. ATTITUDE OF THE WISE AND PRUDENT 367\n\n XVI. OUTLOOK ON THE UNIVERSE 374\n\n XVII. THE CHRISTIAN IDEA OF GOD 378\n\n INDEX 397\n\n\n\n\nILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\n RAYMOND _Frontispiece_\n\n PAGE\n\n RAYMOND WHEN TWO YEARS OLD 8\n\n RAYMOND, 1915 78\n\n GROUP OF OFFICERS, AS SENT US BY MRS. CHEVES ON DECEMBER\n 7, 1915, SHOWING AN ARM RESTING ON RAYMOND'S SHOULDER 110\n\n ANOTHER EDITION OF THE GROUP-PHOTOGRAPH, WITH LEG TOUCHING\n SHOULDER INSTEAD OF HAND 112\n\n GROUP SUBSEQUENTLY OBTAINED, EVIDENTLY TAKEN AT THE\n SAME TIME, BUT PRESSURE ON SHOULDER REMOVED 114\n\n MARIEMONT 224\n\n RAYMOND AND BRODIE WITH THE PIGEONS AT MARIEMONT 224\n\n LARGE DOUBLE-COMPARTMENT TENT IN ITS FIRST FORM (1905)\n (BUILT AT MARIEMONT AND TAKEN TO WOOLACOMBE) 250\n\n THE TENT IN ITS SECOND FORM (1906) MADE OUT OF THE REMAINS\n OF THE FIRST 250\n\n FIRST EDITION OF THE SANDBOAT (1906) AT WOOLACOMBE, WITH\n ALEC ON BOARD 252\n\n RISING GROUND BEHIND OLDER TENTS ON WOOLACOMBE BEACH 252\n\n \"GRANDFATHER W.\" 258\n\n \"MR. JACKSON\" WITH M. F. A. L. AT MARIEMONT 258\n\n SECOND EDITION OF SANDBOAT, AT MARIEMONT, BEFORE BEING\n UNSHIPPED AND TAKEN TO WOOLACOMBE, 1907 260\n\n RAYMOND WORKING AT THE SANDBOAT IN THE BOYS' LABORATORY\n AT MARIEMONT 260\n\n \"CURLY\" AND \"VIX.\" CURLY BEING THE SHAGGY ONE. VIX WAS\n THE MOTHER OF RAYMOND'S DOG \"LARRY\" 278\n\n RAYMOND IN HIS \"NAGANT\" MOTOR, 1913. OUTSIDE A FRIEND'S\n HOUSE IN SOMERSETSHIRE 278\n\n\n\n\nPART ONE: NORMAL PORTION\n\n \"And this to fill us with regard for man,\n With apprehension of his passing worth.\"\n\n Browning, _Paracelsus_.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nIN MEMORIAM\n\n\nThe bare facts are much as reported in _The Times_:--\n\n SECOND LIEUTENANT RAYMOND LODGE was the youngest son of\n Sir Oliver and Lady Lodge, and was by taste and training\n an engineer. He volunteered for service in September\n 1914 and was at once given a commission in the 3rd\n South Lancashires. After training near Liverpool and\n Edinburgh, he went to the Front in the early spring of\n 1915, attached to the 2nd South Lancashire Regiment of\n the Regular Army, and was soon in the trenches near Ypres\n or Hooge. His engineering skill was of service in details\n of trench construction, and he later was attached to a\n Machine-Gun Section for a time, and had various escapes\n from shell fire and shrapnel. His Captain having sprained\n an ankle, he was called back to Company work, and at the\n time of his death was in command of a Company engaged\n in some early episode of an attack or attempted advance\n which was then beginning. He was struck by a fragment of\n shell in the attack on Hooge Hill on the 14th September\n 1915, and died in a few hours.\n\n Raymond Lodge had been educated at Bedales School and\n Birmingham University. He had a great aptitude and love\n for mechanical engineering, and was soon to have become\n a partner with his elder brothers, who highly valued\n his services, and desired his return to assist in the\n Government work which now occupies their firm.\n\nIn amplification of this bare record a few members of the family\nwrote reminiscences of him, and the following memoir is by his eldest\nbrother:--\n\nRAYMOND LODGE\n\n(1889-1915)\n\nBy O. W. F. L.\n\nMost lives have marriages, births of children, productive years;\nbut the lives of the defenders of their Country are short and of\nmajestic simplicity. The obscure records of childhood, the few\nyears of school and university and constructive and inventive work,\nand then the sudden sacrifice of all the promise of the future, of\nwork, of home, of love; the months of hard living and hard work well\ncarried through, the cheerful humorous letters home making it out all\nvery good fun; and in front, in a strange ruined and desolate land,\ncertain mutilation or death. And now that death has come.\n\n Unto each man his handiwork, to each his crown,\n The just Fate gives;\n Whoso takes the world's life on him and his own lays down,\n He, dying so, lives.[1]\n\nMy brother was born at Liverpool on January 25th, 1889, and was at\nBedales School for five or six years, and afterwards at Birmingham\nUniversity, where he studied engineering and was exceptionally\ncompetent in the workshop. He went through the usual two years'\npractical training at the Wolseley Motor Works, and then entered his\nbrothers' works, where he remained until he obtained a commission at\nthe outbreak of war.\n\nHis was a mind of rare stamp. It had unusual power, unusual\nquickness, and patience and understanding of difficulties in my\nexperience unparalleled, so that he was able to make anyone\nunderstand really difficult things. I think we were most of us\nproudest and most hopeful of him. Some of us, I did myself, sometimes\ntook problems technical or intellectual to him, sure of a wise and\nsound solution.\n\nThough his chief strength lay on the side of mechanical and\nelectrical engineering it was not confined to that. He read widely,\nand liked good literature of an intellectual and witty but not highly\nimaginative type, at least I do not know that he read Shelley or\nmuch of William Morris, but he was fond of Fielding, Pope, and Jane\nAusten. Naturally he read Shakespeare, and I particularly associate\nhim with _Twelfth Night_ and _Love's Labour's Lost_. Among novelists,\nhis favourites, after Fielding and Miss Austen, were I believe\nDickens and Reade; and he frequently quoted from the essays and\nletters of Charles Lamb.[2]\n\nOf the stories of his early childhood, and his overflowing vitality\nmade many, I was too often from home to be able to speak at large.\nBut one I may tell. Once when a small boy at Grove Park, Liverpool,\nhe jumped out of the bath and ran down the stairs with the nurse\nafter him, out of the front door, down one drive along the road\nand up the other, and was safely back in the bath again before\nthe horrified nursemaid could catch up with him. [_body of Memoir\nincomplete, and omitted here._]\n\n [_Close of Memoir_]\n\nThat death is the end has never been a Christian doctrine, and\nevidence collected by careful men in our own day has, perhaps\nneedlessly, upheld with weak props of experiment the mighty arch of\nFaith. Death is real and grievous, and is not to be tempered by the\nglossing timidities of those who would substitute journalese like\n\"passing-on,\" \"passing-over,\" etc., for that tremendous word: but it\nis the end of a stage, not the end of the journey. The road stretches\non beyond that inn, and beyond our imagination, \"the moonlit endless\nway.\"\n\nLet us think of him then, not as lying near Ypres with all his work\nended, but rather, after due rest and refreshment, continuing his\nnoble and useful career in more peaceful surroundings, and quietly\ncalling us his family from paralysing grief to resolute and high\nendeavour.\n\nIndeed, it is not right that we should weep for a death like his.\nRather let us pay him our homage in praise and imitation, by growing\nlike him and by holding our lives lightly in our Country's service,\nso that if need be we may die like him. This is true honour and his\nbest memorial.\n\nNot that I would undervalue those of brass or stone, for if beautiful\nthey are good and worthy things. But fame illuminates memorials, and\nfame has but a narrow circle in a life of twenty-six years.\n\n Who shall remember him, who climb\n His all-unripened fame to wake,\n Who dies an age before his time?\n But nobly, but for England's sake.\n\n Who will believe us when we cry\n He was as great as he was brave?\n His name that years had lifted high\n Lies buried in that Belgian grave.\n\n O strong and patient, kind and true,\n Valiant of heart, and clear of brain--\n They cannot know the man we knew,\n Our words go down the wind like rain.\n\n O. W. F. L.\n\n _Tintern_\n\n\n\n\nEPITAPH ON MEMORIAL TABLET IN ST. GEORGE'S CHURCH, EDGBASTON\n\n\n REMEMBER\n RAYMOND LODGE\n\n SECOND LIEUTENANT SECOND SOUTH LANCASHIRE REGIMENT\n BELOVED SON OF SIR OLIVER AND LADY LODGE OF THIS PARISH\n WHO GAVE HIS LIFE FOR HIS COUNTRY\n HE WAS BORN JANUARY 25TH 1889\n AND WAS KILLED IN ACTION IN FLANDERS\n ABOUT NOON SEPTEMBER 14TH\n IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 1915\n AGED 26 YEARS\n\n Whoso bears the whole heaviness of the wronged world's weight\n And puts it by,\n It is well with him suffering, though he face man's fate;\n How should he die?\n\n _Swinburne_\n\n\nREMINISCENCES BY O. J. L.\n\nOf all my sons, the youngest, when he was small, was most like\nmyself at the same age. In bodily appearance I could recognise the\nlikeness to my early self, as preserved in old photographs; an old\nschoolfellow of mine who knew me between the ages of eight and\neleven, visiting Mariemont in April 1904, remarked on it forcibly and\nat once, directly he saw Raymond--then a schoolboy; and innumerable\nsmall mental traits in the boy recalled to me my childhood's\nfeelings. Even an absurd difficulty he had as a child in saying the\nhard letters--the hard G and K--was markedly reminiscent of my own\nsimilar difficulty.\n\nAnother peculiarity which we shared in childhood was dislike of\nchildren's parties--indeed, in my own case, a party of any kind. I\nremember being truly miserable at a Christmas party at The Mount,\nPenkhull, where I have no doubt that every one was more than\nfriendly,--though probably over-patronising, as people often are\nwith children,--but where I determinedly abstained from supper, and\nwent home hungry. Raymond's prominent instance was at the hospitable\nLiverpool house, \"Greenbank,\" which the Rathbones annually delivered\nup to family festivities each Christmas afternoon and evening, being\ngood enough to include us in their family group. On one such occasion\nRaymond, a very small boy, was found in the hall making a bee-line\nfor the front door and home. I remember sympathising with him, from\nancient memories, and taking him home, subsequently returning myself.\n\nAt a later stage of boyhood I perceived that his ability and tastes\nwere akin to mine, for we had the same passionate love of engineering\nand machinery; though in my case, having no opportunity of exercising\nit to any useful extent, it gradually turned into special aptitude\nfor physical science. Raymond was never anything like as good at\nphysics, nor had he the same enthusiasm for mathematics that I\nhad, but he was better at engineering, was in many ways I consider\nstronger in character, and would have made, I expect, a first-rate\nengineer. His pertinacious ability in the mechanical and workshop\ndirection was very marked. Nothing could have been further from his\nnatural tastes and proclivities than to enter upon a military career;\nnothing but a sense of duty impelled him in that direction, which was\nquite foreign to family tradition, at least on my side.\n\n[Illustration: RAYMOND WHEN TWO YEARS OLD]\n\nHe also excelled me in a keen sense of humour--not only appreciation,\nbut achievement. The whole family could not but admire and enjoy\nthe readiness with which he perceived at once the humorous side of\neverything; and he usually kept lively any gathering of which he was\na unit. At school, indeed, his active wit rather interfered with the\nstudies of himself and others, and in the supposed interests of his\nclassmates it had to be more or less suppressed, but to the end he\ncontinued to be rather one of the wags of the school.\n\nBeing so desperately busy all my life I failed to see as much as I\nshould like either of him or of the other boys, but there was always\nan instinctive sympathy between us; and it is a relief to me to be\nunable to remember any, even a single, occasion on which I have been\nvexed with him. In all serious matters he was, as far as I could\njudge, one of the best youths I have ever known; and we all looked\nforward to a happy life for him and a brilliant career.\n\nHis elder brothers highly valued his services in their Works. He\ngot on admirably with the men; his mode of dealing with overbearing\nforemen at the Works, where he was for some years an apprentice, was\ntestified to as masterly, and was much appreciated by his \"mates\";\nand honestly I cannot bethink myself of any trait in his character\nwhich I would have had different--unless it be that he might have had\na more thorough liking and aptitude for, and greater industry in, my\nown subject of physics.\n\nWhen the war broke out his mother and I were in Australia, and it\nwas some time before we heard that he had considered it his duty\nto volunteer. He did so in September 1914, getting a commission\nin the Regular Army which was ante-dated to August; and he threw\nhimself into military duties with the same ability and thoroughness\nas he had applied to more naturally congenial occupations. He went\nthrough a course of training at Great Crosby, near Liverpool, with\nthe Regiment in which he was a Second Lieutenant, namely the 3rd\nSouth Lancashires, being attached to the 2nd when he went to the\nFront; his Company spent the winter in more active service on the\nsouth coast of the Firth of Forth and Edinburgh; and he gained his\ndesired opportunity to go out to Flanders on 15 March 1915. Here he\napplied his engineering faculty to trench and shelter construction,\nin addition to ordinary military duties; and presently he became a\nmachine-gun officer. How desperately welcome to the family his safe\nreturn would have been, at the end of the war, I need not say. He had\na hard and strenuous time at the Front, and we all keenly desired to\nmake it up to him by a course of home \"spoiling.\" But it was too much\nto hope for--though I confess I did hope for it.\n\nHe has entered another region of service now; and this we realise.\nFor though in the first shock of bereavement the outlook of life felt\nirretrievably darkened, a perception of his continued usefulness has\nmercifully dawned upon us, and we know that his activity is not over.\nHis bright ingenuity will lead to developments beyond what we could\nhave anticipated; and we have clear hopes for the future.\n\n O. J. L.\n\n MARIEMONT, _September 30, 1915_.\n\n * * * * *\n\nA MOTHER'S LAMENT\n\n_Written on a scrap of paper, September 26, 1915_,\n\n\"_To ease the pain and to try to get in touch_\"\n\nRaymond, darling, you have gone from our world, and _oh_, to ease the\npain. I want to know if you are happy, and that you _yourself_ are\nreally talking to me and no sham.\n\n\"No more letters from you, my own dear son, and I have loved them\nso. They are all there; we shall have them typed together into a sort\nof book.\n\n\"Now we shall be parted until I join you there. I have not seen as\nmuch of you as I wanted on this earth, but I do love to think of the\nbits I have had of you, specially our journeys to and from Italy. I\nhad you to myself then, and you were so dear.\n\n\"I want to say, dear, how we recognise the glorious way in which\nyou have done your duty, with a certain straight pressing on, never\nletting anyone see the effort, and with your fun and laughter playing\nround all the time, cheering and helping others. You know how your\nbrothers and sisters feel your loss, and your poor father!\"\n\n * * * * *\n\nThe religious side of Raymond was hardly known to the family;\nbut among his possessions at the Front was found a small pocket\nBible called \"The Palestine Pictorial Bible\" (Pearl 24mo), Oxford\nUniversity Press, in which a number of passages are marked; and\non the fly-leaf, pencilled in his writing, is an index to these\npassages, which page I copy here:--\n\n PAGE\n Ex. xxxiii. 14 63\n St. John xiv. 689\n Eph. ii. 749\n Neh. i. 6, II 337\n St. John xvi. 33 689\n Rom. viii. 35 723\n St. Matt. xi. 28 616\n Ps. cxxiv. 8 415\n Ps. xliii. 2 468\n Deut. xxxiii. 27 151\n Deut. xxxii. 43 150\n Isa. li. 12 473\n Isa. lii. 12 474\n Jude 24 784\n Ezra ix. 9 335\n Isa. xii. 2 451\n Isa. i. 18 445\n Isa. xl. 31 467\n Rev. vii. 14 788\n Rev. xxi. 4 795\n\nMIZPAH. Gen. xxxi. 49.\n R. L.\n 14/8/15\n\n\nThe following poem was kindly sent me by Canon Rawnsley, in\nacknowledgment of a Memorial Card:--\n\n\n OUR ANGEL-HOST OF HELP\n\n IN MEMORY OF RAYMOND LODGE,\n\n WHO FELL IN FLANDERS, 14 SEPT. 1915 \"_His strong young body is\n laid under some trees on the road from Ypres to Menin._\" [From the\n Memorial Card sent to friends.]\n\n 'Twixt Ypres and Menin night and day\n The poplar trees in leaf of gold\n Were whispering either side the way\n Of sorrow manifold,\n\n --Of war that never should have been,\n Of war that still perforce must be,\n Till in what brotherhood can mean\n The nations all agree.\n\n But where they laid your gallant lad\n I heard no sorrow in the air,\n The boy who gave the best he had\n That others good might share.\n\n For golden leaf and gentle grass\n They too had offered of their best\n To banish grief from all who pass\n His hero's place of rest.\n\n There as I gazed, the guests of God,\n An angel host before mine eyes,\n Silent as if on air they trod\n Marched straight from Paradise.\n\n And one sprang forth to join the throng\n From where the grass was gold and green,\n His body seemed more lithe and strong\n Than it had ever been.\n\n I cried, \"But why in bright array\n Of crowns and palms toward the north\n And those white trenches far away,\n Doth this great host go forth?\"\n\n He answered, \"Forth we go to fight\n To help all need where need there be,\n Sworn in for right against brute might\n Till Europe shall be free.\"\n\n H. D. RAWNSLEY\n\n\nEXTRACTS FROM PLATO'S DIALOGUE \"MENEXENUS\"\n\nBEING PART OF A SPEECH IN HONOUR OF THOSE WHO HAD DIED IN BATTLE FOR\nTHEIR COUNTRY\n\n\nAnd I think that I ought now to repeat the message which your\nfathers, when they went out to battle, urged us to deliver to you who\nare their survivors, in case anything happened to them. I will tell\nyou what I heard them say, and what, if they could, they would fain\nbe saying now, judging from what they then said; but you must imagine\nthat you hear it all from their lips. Thus they spoke:--\n\n \"Sons, the event proves that your fathers were brave men.\n For we, who might have continued to live, though without\n glory, choose a glorious death rather than bring reproach\n on you and your children, and rather than disgrace our\n fathers and all of our race who have gone before us,\n believing that for the man who brings shame on his own\n people life is not worth living, and that such an one is\n loved neither by men nor gods, either on earth or in the\n underworld when he is dead.\n\n \"Some of us have fathers and mothers still living, and\n you must encourage them to bear their trouble, should\n it come, as lightly as may be; and do not join them in\n lamentations, for they will have no need of aught that\n would give their grief a keener edge. They will have pain\n enough from what has befallen them. Endeavour rather to\n soothe and heal their wound, reminding them that of all\n the boons they ever prayed for the greatest have been\n granted to them. For they did not pray that their sons\n should live for ever, but that they should be brave and\n of fair fame. Courage and honour are the best of all\n blessings, and while for a mortal man it can hardly be\n that everything in his own life will turn out as he would\n have it, their prayer for those two things has been\n heard. Moreover, if they bear their troubles bravely, it\n will be perceived that they are indeed fathers of brave\n sons, and that they themselves are like them.... So\n minded, _we_, at any rate, bid those dear to us to be;\n such we would have them be; and such we say we are now\n showing that we ourselves are, neither grieving overmuch\n nor fearing overmuch if we are to die in this battle.\n And we entreat our fathers and mothers to continue to be\n thus minded for the rest of their days, for we would have\n them know that it is not by bewailing and lamentation\n that they will please us best. If the dead have any\n knowledge of the living, they will give us no pleasure by\n breaking down under their trouble, or by bearing it with\n impatience.... For our lives will have had an end the\n most glorious of all that fall to the lot of man; it is\n therefore more fitting to do us honour than to lament us.\"\n\n _Stat sua cuique dies; breve et irreparabile tempus\n Omnibus est vitae: sed famam extendere factis, Hoc\n virtutis opus._\n\n _\u00c6n._ x. 467\n\n [Footnote 1: Swinburne, _Super Flumina Babylonis_.]\n\n [Footnote 2: _Note by O. J. L._--A volume of poems by O.\n W. F. L. had been sent to Raymond by the author; and this\n came back with his kit, inscribed on the title page in a\n way which showed that it had been appreciated:--\n\n \"Received at Wisques (Machine-Gun School), near St. Omer,\n France--_12th July 1915_.\n\n Taken to camp near Poperinghe--_13th July_.\n\n To huts near Dickebusch--_21st July_.\n\n To first-line trenches near St. Eloi, in front of 'The\n Mound of Death'--_24th July_.\"]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nLETTERS FROM THE FRONT\n\n\nI shall now, for reasons explained in the Preface, quote extracts\nfrom letters which Raymond wrote to members of his family during the\ntime he was serving in Flanders.\n\nA short note made by me the day after he first started for the Front\nmay serve as a preliminary statement of fact:--\n\n _Mariemont, Edgbaston, 16 March 1915_\n\n Raymond was recently transferred back from Edinburgh to\n Great Crosby near Liverpool; and once more began life in\n tents or temporary sheds.\n\n Yesterday morning, Monday the 15th March, one of the\n subalterns was ordered to the Front; he went to a\n doctor, who refused to pass him, owing to some temporary\n indisposition. Raymond was then asked if he was fit: he\n replied, Perfectly. So at 10 a.m. he was told to start\n for France that night. Accordingly he packed up; and at\n 3.00 we at Mariemont received a telegram from him asking\n to be met at 5 p.m., and saying he could spend six hours\n at home.\n\n His mother unfortunately was in London, and for many\n hours was inaccessible. At last some of the telegrams\n reached her, at 7 p.m., and she came by the first\n available (slow) train from Paddington, getting here at\n 11.\n\n Raymond took the midnight train to Euston; Alec, Lionel,\n and No\u00ebl accompanying him. They would reach Euston at\n 3.50 a.m. and have two hours to wait, when he was to\n meet a Captain [Capt. Taylor], and start from Waterloo\n for Southampton. The boys intended to see him off at\n Waterloo, and then return home to their war-business as\n quickly as they could.\n\n He seems quite well; but naturally it has been rather a\n strain for the family: as the same sort of thing has been\n for so many other families.\n\n O. J. L.\n\nFirst comes a letter written on his way to the Front after leaving\nSouthampton.\n\n _\"Hotel Dervaux, 75 Grande Rue, Boulogne-s/Mer, Wednesday, 24 March\n 1915, 11.30 a.m._\n\n \"Following on my recent despatch, I have the honour to\n report that we have got stuck here on our way to the\n Front. Not stuck exactly, but they have shunted us into\n a siding which we reached about 8 a.m., and we are free\n until 2.30 p.m. when we have to telephone for further\n orders to find out where we are to join our train. I\n don't know whether this is the regular way to the Front\n from Rouen. I don't think it is, I fancy the more direct\n way must be reserved for urgent supplies and wounded.\n\n \"My servant has been invaluable _en route_ and he has\n caused us a great deal of amusement. He hunted round at\n the goods station at Rouen (whence we started) and found\n a large circular tin. He pierced this all over to form\n a brazier and attached a wire handle. As soon as we got\n going he lit this, having filled it with coal purloined\n from somewhere, and when we stopped by the wayside about\n 10 or 11 p.m. he supplied my compartment (four officers)\n with fine hot tea. He had previously purchased some\n condensed milk. He also saw to it that a large share of\n the rations, provided by the authorities before we left,\n fell to our share, and looked after us and our baggage in\n the most splendid way.\n\n \"He insists on treating the train as a tram. As soon as\n it slows down to four miles an hour, he is down on the\n permanent way gathering firewood or visiting some railway\n hut in search of plunder. He rides with a number of other\n servants in the baggage waggon, and as they had no light\n he nipped out at a small station and stole one of the\n railway men's lamps. However, there was a good deal of\n fuss, and the owner came and indignantly recovered it.\n\n \"As soon as we stop anywhere, he lowers out of his van\n the glowing brazier. He keeps it burning in the van! I\n wonder the railway authorities don't object. If they do,\n of course he pretends not to understand any French.\n\n \"He often gets left behind on the line, and has to\n scramble into our carriage, where he regales us with his\n life history until the next stop, when he returns to his\n own van.\n\n \"Altogether he is a very rough customer and wants a lot\n of watching--all the same he makes an excellent servant.\"\n\n\nLETTERS FROM THE FRONT IN FLANDERS\n\n \"_Friday, 26 March 1915_\n\n \"I arrived here yesterday about 5 p.m., and found the\n Battalion resting from the trenches. We all return there\n on Sunday evening.\n\n \"I got a splendid reception from my friends here, and\n they have managed to get me into an excellent Company,\n all the officers of which are my friends. This place is\n very muddy, but better than it was, I understand. We are\n in tents.\"\n\n\n \"_Saturday, 27 March 1915, 4.30 p.m._\n\n \"We moved from our camp into billets last night and\n are now in a farm-house. The natives still live here,\n and we (five officers) have a room to ourselves, and\n our five servants and our cook live and cook for us\n in the kitchen. The men of our Company are quartered\n in neighbouring farm buildings, and other Companies\n farther down the road. We are within a mile of a village\n and about three or four miles to the southward of a\n fair-sized and well-known town. The weather is steadily\n improving and the mud is drying up--though I haven't seen\n what the trenches are like yet....\n\n \"I am now permanently attached to C Company and am\n devoutly thankful. Captain T. is in command and the\n subalterns are Laws, Fletcher, and Thomas, all old\n friends of mine. F. was the man whose room I shared at\n Edinburgh and over whose bed I fixed the picture....\n\n \"We went on a 'fatigue' job to-day--just our Company--and\n were wrongly directed and so went too far and got right\n in view of the enemy's big guns. However, we cleared out\n very quickly when we discovered our error, and had got\n back on to the main road again when a couple of shells\n burst apparently fairly near where we had been. There\n were a couple of hostile aeroplanes about too.... Thank\n you very much for your letter wondering where I am. 'Very\n pressing are the Germans,' a buried city.\"\n\n[This of course privately signified to the family that he was at Ypres.]\n\n\n \"_1 April 1915, 1.15 p.m._\n\n \"We dug trenches by night on Monday and Wednesday, and\n although we were only about 300 to 500 yards from the\n enemy we had a most peaceful time, only a very few stray\n bullets whistling over from time to time.\"\n\n\n \"_Saturday, 3 April 1915, 7 p.m._\n\n \"I am having quite a nice time in the trenches. I\n am writing this in my dug-out by candle-light; this\n afternoon I had a welcome shave. Shaving and washing is\n usually dispensed with during our spell of duty (even by\n the Colonel), but if I left it six days I should burst my\n razor I think. I have got my little 'Primus' with me and\n it is very useful indeed as a standby, although we do all\n our main cooking on a charcoal brazier....\n\n \"I will look out for the great sunrise to-morrow\n morning and am wishing you all a jolly good Easter: I\n shan't have at all a bad one. It is very like Robinson\n Crusoe--we treasure up our water supply most carefully\n (it is brought up in stone jars), and we have excellent\n meals off limited and simple rations, by the exercise\n of a little native cunning on the part of our servants,\n especially mine.\"\n\n\n \"_Bank Holiday, 5 April 1915, 4.30 p.m._\n\n \"The trenches are only approached and relieved at\n night-time, and even here we are not allowed to stir\n from the house by day on any pretext whatever, and no\n fires are allowed on account of the smoke. (Fires are\n started within doors when darkness falls and we have a\n hot meal then and again in the early morning--that is\n the rule--however, we do get a fire in the day by using\n charcoal only and lighting up from a candle to one piece\n and from that one piece to the rest, by blowing; also I\n have my Primus stove.) ... We are still within rifle-fire\n range here, but of course it is all unaimed fire from the\n intermittent conflict going on at the firing line....\n\n \"I have a straw bed covered with my tarpaulin sheet--(it\n is useful although I have also the regular military\n rubber ground sheet as well)--and my invaluable\n air-pillow. I am of course travelling light and have to\n carry everything in my 'pack' until I get back to my\n valise and 'rest billets,' so I sleep in my clothes.\n Simply take off my boots and puttees, put my feet in a\n nice clean sack, take off my coat and cover myself up\n with my British Warm coat (put on sideways so as to use\n its great width to the full). Like this I sleep like a\n top and am absolutely comfortable.\"\n\n \"I have been making up an Acrostic for you all to\n guess--here it is:\n\n LIGHTS. My first is speechless, and a bell Has often\n the complaint as well. Three letters promising to pay,\n Each letter for a word does stay. There's nothing gross\n about this act;-- A gentle kiss involving tact. A General\n less his final 'k,' A hen would have no more to say. Our\n Neenie who is going west Her proper name will serve you\n best.\n\n WHOLE. My whole, though in a foreign tongue, Is Richard's\n name when he is young. The rest is just a shrub or tree\n With spelling 'Made in Germany.'\n\n \"That's the lot. The word has ten letters and is divided\n into two halves for the purpose of the Acrostic.\n\n * * * * *\n\n \"My room-mate has changed for to-night, and I have got\n Wyatt, who has just come in covered in mud, after four\n days in the trenches. He is machine-gun officer, and\n works very hard. I am so glad to have him.\n\n \"By the way the support-trenches aren't half bad. I\n didn't want to leave them, but it's all right here too.\"\n\n\n \"_Thursday, 8 April 1915_\n\n \"Here I am back again in 'Rest Billets,' for six days'\n rest. When I set off for the six days' duty I was\n ardently looking forward to this moment, but there is not\n much difference; here we 'pig' it pretty comfortably in a\n house, and there we 'pig' it almost as comfortably in a\n 'dug-out.' There we are exposed to rifle fire, nearly all\n unaimed, and here we are exposed to shell fire--aimed,\n but from about five miles away.\n\n \"On the whole this is the better, because there is more\n room to move about, more freedom for exercise, and there\n is less mud. But you will understand how much conditions\n in the trenches have improved if comparison is possible\n at all.\n\n \"My platoon (No. 11) has been very fortunate; we have had\n no casualties at all in the last six days. The nearest\n thing to one was yesterday when we were in the firing\n trench, and a man got a bullet through his cap quite\n close to his head. He was peeping over the top, a thing\n they are all told not to do in the daytime. The trenches\n at our point are about a hundred yards apart, and it is\n really safe to look over if you don't do it too often,\n but it is unnecessary, as we had a periscope and a few\n loopholes....\n\n \"I am awfully grateful for all the things that have been\n sent, and are being sent.... I will attach a list of\n wants at the end of this letter. I am very insatiable\n (that's not quite the word I wanted), but I am going on\n the principle that you and the rest of the family are\n only waiting to gratify my every whim! So, if I think of\n a thing I ask for it....\n\n \"By the way we have changed our billets here. Our last\n ones have been shelled while we were away--a prodigious\n hole through the roof wrecking the kitchen, but not\n touching our little room at the back. However, it is not\n safe enough for habitation and the natives even have left!\n\n \"Things are awfully quiet here. We thought at first that\n it was 'fishy' and something was preparing, but I don't\n think so now. It is possibly the principle of 'live and\n let live.' In the trenches if we don't stir them up with\n shots they leave us pretty well alone. Of course we are\n ready for anything all the same.\n\n \"Yes, we see the daily papers here as often as we want to\n (the day's before). Personally, and I think my view is\n shared by all the other officers, I would rather read a\n romance, or anything not connected with this war, than a\n daily paper....\n\n \"Was the Easter sunrise a success? It wasn't here. Cloudy\n and dull was how I should describe it. Fair to fine\n generally, some rain (the latter not to be taken in the\n American sense).\n\n \"I wonder if you got my Acrostic [see previous letter]\n and whether anybody guessed it; it was meant to be very\n easy, but perhaps acrostics are no longer the fashion and\n are somewhat boring. I always think they are more fun to\n make than to undo. The solution is a household word here,\n because it is only a half-mile or so away, and provides\n most things.\"\n\n[The family had soon guessed the Acrostic, giving the place as\nDickebusch. The \"lights\" are--\n\n D um B\n I o U\n Cares S\n K lu Ck\n E dit H.]\n\n\n [_To a Brother_]\n\n \"_Billets, Tuesday, 13 April 1915_\n\n \"We are all right here except for the shells. When\n I arrived I found every one suffering from nerves\n and unwilling to talk about shells at all. And now I\n understand why. The other day a shrapnel burst near our\n billet and a piece of the case caught one of our servants\n (Mr. Laws's) on the leg and hand. He lost the fingers of\n his right hand, and I have been trying to forget the mess\n it made of his right leg--ever since. He will have had it\n amputated by now.\n\n \"They make you feel awfully shaky, and when one comes\n over it is surprising the pace at which every one gets\n down into any ditch or hole near.\n\n \"One large shell landed right on the field where the\n men were playing football on Sunday evening. They all\n fell flat, and all, I'm thankful to say, escaped injury,\n though a few were within a yard or so of the hole. The\n other subalterns of the Company and I were (_mirabile\n dictu_) in church at the time.\n\n \"I wonder if you can get hold of some morphia tablets\n [for wounded men]. I think injection is too complicated,\n but I understand there are tablets that can merely be\n placed in the mouth to relieve pain. They might prove\n very useful in the trenches, because if a man is hit in\n the morning he will usually have to wait till dark to be\n removed.\n\n \"My revolver has arrived this morning.\"\n\n\n \"_Sunday, 18 April 1915_\n\n \"I came out of the trenches on Friday night. It was\n raining, so the surface of the ground was very slippery;\n and it was the darkest night I can remember. There was a\n good deal of 'liveliness' too, shots were flying around\n more than usual. There were about a hundred of us in our\n party, two platoons (Fletcher's and mine) which had been\n in the fire trenches, though I was only with them for one\n day, Thursday night till Friday night. Captain Taylor was\n in front, then Fletcher's platoon, then Fletcher, then my\n platoon, then me bringing up the rear. We always travel\n in single file, because there are so many obstacles to\n negotiate--plank bridges and 'Johnson' holes being the\n chief.\n\n \"Picture us then shuffling our way across the fields\n behind the trenches at about one mile an hour--with\n frequent stops while those in front negotiate some\n obstacle (during these stops we crouch down to try and\n miss most of the bullets!). Every few minutes a 'Very'\n light will go up and then the whole line 'freezes' and\n remains absolutely stationary in its tracks till the\n light is over. A 'Very' light is an 'asteroid.' (No\u00ebl\n will explain that.) It is fired either by means of a\n rocket (in the German case) or of a special pistol called\n a 'Very' pistol after the inventor (in our case). The\n light is not of magnesium brightness, but is just a\n bright star light with a little parachute attached, so\n that it falls slowly through the air. The light lasts\n about five seconds. These things are being shot up at\n short intervals all night long. Sometimes dozens are in\n the air together, especially if an attack is on.\n\n \"Well, to go back to Friday night:--it took us a very\n long time to get back, and at one point it was hard to\n believe that they hadn't seen us. Lights went up and\n almost a volley whistled over us. We all got right down\n and waited for a bit. Really we were much too far off for\n them to see us, but we were on rather an exposed bit of\n ground, and they very likely fix a few rifles on to that\n part in the daytime and 'poop' them off at night. That is\n a favourite plan of theirs, and works very well.\n\n \"We did get here in the end, and had no casualties,\n though we had had one just before leaving the trench. A\n man called Raymond (in my platoon) got shot through the\n left forearm. He was firing over the parapet and had been\n sniping snipers (firing at their flashes). Rather a nasty\n wound through an artery. They applied a tourniquet and\n managed to stop the bleeding, but he was so weak from\n loss of blood he had to be carried back on a stretcher.\n\n \"I had noticed this man before, partly on account of his\n name. Last time I was in the fire trenches (about ten\n days ago) I was dozing in my dug-out one evening and the\n Sergeant-Major was in his, next door. Suddenly he calls\n out 'Raymond!' I started. Then he calls again 'Raymond!\n Come here!' I shouted out 'Hallo! What's the matter?' But\n then I heard the other Raymond answering, so I guessed\n how it was....\n\n \"While at tea in the next room the post came and brought\n me your letter and one from Alec. Isn't it perfectly\n marvellous? You were surprised at the speed of my last\n letter. But how about yours? The postmark is 2.30 p.m. on\n the 16th at Birmingham, and here it is in my hands at 4\n p.m. on the 18th!\n\n \"I was telling you about the difficulties of going to\n and fro between here and the trenches, but you will\n understand it is not always like that. If there is a\n moon, or even if there is a clear sky so that we can get\n the benefit of the starlight (which is considerable and\n much more than I thought), matters are much improved,\n because if you can still see the man in front, when he\n is, say, 5 yards in front of you, and can also see the\n holes instead of finding them with your person, all that\n 'waiting for the \"tail\" to close up' is done away with....\n\n \"Last night Laws, Thomas, and myself each took a party of\n about forty-five down separately, leaving the remainder\n guarding the various billets. Then when we returned\n Fletcher took the rest down.\n\n \"It was a glorious night, starry, with a very young and\n inexperienced moon, and quite dry and warm. I would not\n have minded going down again except that I would rather\n go to bed, which I did.\n\n \"Do you know that joke in _Punch_ where the Aunt\n says: 'Send me a postcard when you are safely in the\n trenches!'? Well, there is a great deal of truth in\n that--one feels quite safe when one reaches the friendly\n shelter of the trench, though of course the approaches\n aren't really very dangerous. One is 'thrilled' by the\n whistle of the bullets near you. That describes the\n feeling best, I think--it is a kind of excitement.\"\n\n\n \"_Thursday, 22 April 1915, 6.50 p.m._\n\n \"I have received a most grand periscope packed, with\n spare mirrors, in a canvas haversack. It is a glorious\n one and I am quite keen to use it, thank you very much\n indeed for it. Thank you also for two sets of ear\n defenders which I am going to test when firing off a\n 'Very' light. A 'parachuted' star is fired from a brass\n pistol with a bore of about 1 inch and a barrel of about\n 6 inches. The report is very deafening, I believe--though\n I haven't fired one yet.\n\n \"The star, by the way, though it lights up the country\n for some distance, is not too bright to look at.\n\n \"I have just remembered something I wanted to tell you,\n so I will put it in here.\n\n \"When walking to and from the trenches in the darkness,\n I find it is a great help to study the stars (not for\n purposes of direction). I know very little about them,\n and I saw a very useful plan in, I think, the _Daily\n News_ of 3 April, called 'The Night Sky in April.' It was\n just a circle with the chief planets and stars shown and\n labelled. The periphery of the circle represented the\n horizon.\n\n \"If you know of such a plan that is quite easily\n obtainable I should be glad to have one. The simpler the\n thing the better.\n\n \"The books you had sent me, which were passed on to\n me by Professor Leith, are much appreciated. They\n circulate among officers of this Company like a\n library. At the time they arrived we were running\n short of reading-matter, but since then our Regimental\n Headquarters have come to the rescue and supplied each\n Company with half a dozen books, to be passed on to other\n Companies afterwards.\n\n \"I enclose an acrostic that I made up while in the\n trenches during our last spell. It seems to be a prolific\n place for this sort of thing.\"\n\nACROSTIC\n\n(One word of five letters)\n\n LIGHTS. The lowest rank with lowest pay,\n Don't make this public though, I pray!\n Inoculation's victim, though\n Defeated still a powerful foe.\n When Government 'full-stop' would say\n It does so in this novel way.\n The verb's success, the noun's disgrace\n And lands you in a foreign place.\n A king of kings without a roar,\n His kingdom that no anger bore.\n\n The final goal--the end of all--\n What all desire, both great and small.\n\n R. L., _19 April 1915_\n\n [The solution of this is the word _Peace_ given\n twice--once inverted. The first 'light,' which is not\n 'public' is 'Private'; the second is 'Enteric'; the third\n is a sign employed in Government telegrams to denote a\n full-stop, viz., 'aaa'; the fourth is 'Capture'; and\n the fifth (with apologies) is 'Emp,' and some occult\n reference to Edward VII, not remembered now; the kingdom\n without anger being Empire without ire.--O. J. L.]\n\n\n \"_Friday, 30 April 1915, 4.10 p.m._\n\n \"I wish you could see me now. I am having a little\n holiday in Belgium. At the moment I am sitting in the\n shade of a large tree, leaning against its trunk, writing\n to you. The sun is pouring down and I have been sitting\n in it lying on a fallen tree, but it makes me feel lazy,\n so I came here to write (in the shade).\n\n \"Before me, across a moat, is the ch\u00e2teau--ruined now,\n but not by old age. It is quite a handsome building, two\n storeys high. It is built of brick with a slate roof;\n the bricks are colour-washed yellow with a white band 18\n inches deep under the roof; there are two towers with\n pointed roofs that stand to the front of the house,\n projecting slightly from it, forming bay windows. These\n towers, from the roof down to the ground, are red brick,\n as are the fronts of the dormer windows in the main\n building.\n\n \"The larger and taller tower is octagonal and stands\n in the middle of the front, the smaller one is square\n and stands on the right corner. On each side of the\n main building are flanking buildings consisting on this\n (left) side of a brick-built palm-house and beyond that\n again a glass-covered conservatory. The other flank has\n a conservatory also, but I have not explored as far as\n that. The front of the building is about 70 to 80 yards\n long.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n \"The main entrance is on the other or northern side. It\n is reached by a drawbridge over the moat. The house on\n that (north) side is not so much damaged. It has long\n windows with shutters that give it a continental air. I\n can't sketch it, so I have given you a rough elevation\n from the south. I am sitting to the south-west, just\n across the moat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n \"The place is in an awful mess. In some parts it is\n difficult to tell how the original building went. One can\n see into several of the rooms; the outer wall has fallen\n away, exposing about three rooms and an attic. In one\n room the floor has dropped at one corner to some 8 feet\n below its proper level, and a bed is just above poised on\n the edge of the room, almost falling out where the room\n is sectioned.\n\n \"There is no glass in any of the green-houses--it is all\n on the floor. The palm-house is full of green tubs with\n plants in them, mostly overturned.\n\n \"In the garden the trees are blossoming, some of the\n fruit trees are covered with white blossom; but many,\n even of these, are lying flat and blossoming in the moat.\n The drive runs down to the road on the south side in an\n absolutely straight line, flanked by tall trees. But many\n of these are down too. I was lying on one just now. The\n garden is in good order, though getting a little out of\n hand. There is a small plantation of gooseberry bushes\n that looks very healthy. Shell holes are all about,\n however.\n\n \"The house, although it is not on an eminence, commands\n a good view to the southward and has a fine view of the\n German lines, which are slightly raised just here. The\n enemy evidently suspected this ch\u00e2teau was used as an\n observation post, as indeed it may have been.\n\n \"We came out of the trenches on Wednesday night into\n Reserve Billets, and I was placed with No. 9 platoon\n (instead of my own) in a little house not far from this\n ch\u00e2teau. We are not allowed to leave it by day, or rather\n we are not allowed to show ourselves on the south side of\n it, as it might draw shell-fire on to it. But I managed\n to sneak away to the north under cover of a hedge without\n any risk of being seen.\n\n \"After being relieved in the trenches on Wednesday, and\n marching back and having a meal with the other officers\n of C Company in the Reserve Billets (a brewery), it was\n one o'clock before I got to bed in our little house. And\n we had to 'stand to arms' in the morning for an hour\n while dawn was breaking (we always do, and at dusk too).\n So after this I went to sleep till 2 p.m. I sleep in an\n outhouse with no door, on straw laid on a brick floor.\n My ground-sheet on the straw, my coat over me, my feet\n in a sack and an air-cushion under my head, and I can\n sleep as peacefully as at home. The place is swarming\n with rats and mice, you can hear them directly you lie\n still. They go 'plop, plop, plop,' on the straw overhead,\n as if they were obliged to take long strides owing to\n their feet sinking into the straw. Immediately over my\n head, I should judge, there is a family of young rats by\n the noise. Occasionally they have a stampede and a lot of\n dust comes down on my face.\n\n \"But one gets used to this, and muttering 'Nom d'un\n chien!' one turns the other cheek. By the way, they say\n these rats 'stand to' at dawn, just as we do.\n\n \"I am terrified of a rat running over my face, but my\n servant sleeps with me, so I console myself that the\n chances are just even that they won't choose me. I wish\n he wouldn't snore though--he's lowering the odds.\n\n \"Last night we had to turn out for fatigue parties. I\n took a party down to one of the fire trenches with 'knife\n rests.' These are sections of barbed wire entanglement.\n They are made by fixing cross-pieces on the ends of a\n long pole. The tips of these cross-pieces are joined\n together with barbed wire laid parallel to the centre\n pole. Then the whole is wound with more barbed wire laid\n on spirally, thus: [a sketch]\n\n These are slung out in front of the trenches and fixed\n together. They are now fixed also to the trench, because\n the Germans used to harpoon them and draw them over to\n their own side!\n\n \"Well, we set off about 11 p.m. and took twenty-two\n of these down. We didn't exactly bless the full\n moon--although it showed us the holes and obstructions in\n the way. Still, we had no casualties and made good time.\n We got back about midnight. So I only slept till 12.30\n this morning! Of course I had to get up for an hour at\n dawn. I used the time to brew myself some cocoa. I am\n getting an expert cook, and can make that 'Bivouac' cocoa\n taste like the very finest chocolate....\n\n \"Just before going into the trenches I received another\n of those splendid parcels of cabbage and apples. The\n apples are simply splendid. The cabbage is good, but I\n never cared very much for it--it is medicinal in this\n case. However, it is great to have such a fine supply\n of green stuff instead of none at all. The Mess does\n appreciate it.\n\n \"I have been supplying our Mess (C Company) with butter.\n And the supply sent up to now has just effected this\n with none to spare. But I don't know whether you want to\n do this, and that is why I suggested cutting down the\n supply. I don't want you to think any of it has been\n wasted though--it hasn't, and is splendid stuff....\n\n \"In the trenches one is not always doing nothing. These\n last three days in I have been up all night. I had a\n working party in two shifts working all night and all\n three nights, digging communication trenches. I used to\n go to bed about 4.20 a.m. and sleep till lunch-time, and\n perhaps lie down again for a bit in the afternoon. That\n is why my letters have not been so frequent.\n\n \"It is extraordinary that what is wanted at the moment\n is not so much a soldier as a civil engineer. There are\n trenches to be laid out and dug, and the drainage of them\n to be thought out and carried through. Often the sides\n have to be 'riveted' or staked, and a flooring of boards\n put in, supported on small piles.\n\n \"Then there is the water-supply, where one exists. I have\n had great fun arranging a 'source' in my trench (the\n support trench that I have been in these last three days\n and that I have been in often before). A little stream,\n quite clear and drinkable after boiling, runs out at\n one place (at about 1 pint a minute!) and makes a muddy\n mess of the trenches near. By damming it up and putting\n a water-bottle with the bottom knocked in on top of the\n dam, the water runs in a little stream from the mouth of\n the bottle. It falls into a hole large enough to receive\n a stone water-jar, and then runs away down a deep trough\n cut beside the trench. Farther down it is again dammed up\n to form a small basin which the men use for washing; and\n it finally escapes into a kind of marshy pond in rear of\n the trenches.\n\n \"I quite enjoyed this job, and there are many like it;\n plank bridges to be put up, seats and steps to be cut,\n etc. One officer put half a dozen of his men on to\n making a folding bed! But it was not for himself, but\n for his Captain, who has meningitis and can't sleep. The\n men enjoy these jobs too; it is much better than doing\n nothing.\n\n \"I will creep back to my quarters now and make myself\n some tea on my 'Primus' (no fires are allowed).\n\n \"A cuckoo has been singing on a tree near me--in full\n view. (It left hurriedly when one of our guns went off\n close behind the ch\u00e2teau.) The first time I have ever\n seen one, I think. It is amazing how tame the animals\n get. They have so much ground to themselves in the\n daytime--the rats especially; they flourish freely in the\n space between the trenches.\n\n \"Things are fairly quiet and easy here just now.\"\n\n[In one of his letters to me (22 April 1915), he said he had plenty\nof time now to watch the stars, and would like a set of star maps or\nsomething in order to increase his knowledge of them. Accordingly,\nI sent him a planisphere which I happened to have--an ingenious\ncardboard arrangement which can be turned so as to show, in a rough\nway, the stars visible in these latitudes at any time of day and any\nperiod of the year.--O. J. L.]\n\n\n \"_May Day 1915, 3.20 p.m._\n\n \"Thank you very much for the planisphere and for your\n letter. I have often seen the planisphere before, but\n never appreciated it until now.\n\n \"As to the 'Very' pistol, I quite agree that the 'barrel'\n is too short. If it were longer the light would be thrown\n farther, which would be much better. As it is, it falls\n between us and the Germans.\n\n \"The German lights, which I now learn are fired from a\n kind of mortar and not by a rocket as I thought, are much\n better than ours; they give a better and steadier, fatter\n light, and they are thrown well behind our trenches.\n However, ours are much better, and theirs are worse than\n they used to be....\n\n \"They have not turned the gas on to us here, though on\n some days I have smelled distinct traces coming down wind\n from the north. I should say it was chlorine rather than\n SO_{2} that I smelled. I don't know whether the ammonia\n preventive would be better than the soda one. In any\n case, the great thing is that one is provided. The soda\n method is the one in use, I believe, in the chlorine\n works at Widnes and elsewhere.\"\n\n\n \"_Tuesday, 3 May 1915, 12.40 p.m._\n\n \"For the first three days we are out here in new\n billets--officers in a comfortable little house. Last\n three days of our 'rest' (!) we are going into a wood\n quite close to our 'Reserve Billets.' We are in 'support'\n in case of a sudden attack. Roads are so much knocked\n about by shells that traffic is limited and restricted.\n So we might not be able to support quick enough unless we\n were close.\n\n \"Everything is still very much upset, due to the\n penetration of our (French) line. They have been shelling\n our village from the rear (!) and most of the companies\n have had to quit. _We_ (C Company) are well back now....\n\n \"Two of our platoons went digging last night. Mine was\n one. We left here about eight o'clock, and I got back\n at 1 a.m., and then I sat up with another subaltern\n (Fletcher) after I had had some supper until the other\n man (Thomas) had come in and eaten. We went to bed\n at 3 a.m. Breakfast at nine this morning, and we are\n _resting_. However, I am going to have an absolutely\n slack day to-day. A bath too, if I can manage it....\n\n \"Last night the moon got up very late and was quite\n useless. They fire more when there is no light, they get\n scared--at least uneasy; they fire off 'Very' lights\n constantly, and let off volleys. We lie absolutely flat\n while this goes on. It is a funny sight; the men look\n like a row of starfish!\"\n\n\n \"_Tuesday, 11 May 1915, 9.15 a.m._ (_really Wednesday\n the_ 12_th. I had got wrong_)\n\n \"We are within view of a well-known place [no doubt\n Ypres.--O. J. L.], and the place has been on fire in\n three or four places for about two days, and is still\n going strong. A magnificent spectacle at night. The place\n is, I believe, a city of ruins and dead, and there is\n probably no one to put a fire out. Probably, too, a fire\n is rather a good thing than otherwise; the place must be\n terribly in need of purifying.\n\n \"I was awfully interested in father's dream.[3] Your\n letter is dated the 8th, and you say that the other night\n he dreamt that I was in the thick of the fighting, but\n that they were taking care of me from the other side.\n\n \"Well, I don't know about 'the thick of the fighting,'\n but I have been through what I can only describe as a\n hell of a shelling with shrapnel. My diary tells me it\n was on the 7th, at about 10.15 a.m. Our Company were\n ordered forward from one set of dug-outs to others nearer\n the firing line, and the formation adopted was platoons\n in single file, with intervals between. That is, four\n columns of about fifty men each, in single file, with\n about 20 to 50 yards between each column. I was the third\n platoon, though I was not with my own but with No. 9.\n Fletcher brought up the last one, thus:--\n\n[Illustration]\n\n (My platoon is No. 11.--No. 9's platoon commander, Laws,\n is in England on sick leave, as his nerves are all wrong.)\n\n \"Well, anyhow, we had not gone far before the gunners\n saw us, and an aeroplane was flying along above and with\n us. They sent over some 'Johnsons,' but these all went\n too far; we were screened by a reservoir embankment.\n However, we had to pass through a ruined village and they\n knew it, so they put shrapnel over it. Still we were\n unaffected. But when we came out into the open on the\n far side, we caught it properly. Shell after shell came\n over and burst above us, and when I and about three men\n behind me had just turned a corner one burst above, in\n exactly the spot I should have wished it to if I had been\n the enemy. I looked up and saw the air full of flying\n pieces, some large and some small. These spattered down\n all round us. I was untouched, but my servant, who was\n immediately behind me, was hit on the knee, but only\n wounded slightly. He was rather scared. I led him back\n round the corner again and put him in a ditch. The rest\n of the platoon got in too, while I was doing this. I\n thought that was the best thing they could do until the\n shelling ceased, but Fletcher shouted that we must get\n on, whatever happened.\n\n \"So I called the men out again, and, leaving a man with\n the wounded, we set off. I don't believe it was right,\n but we just walked along. It felt rather awful. (When\n one is _retiring_ it is important not to let the men\n 'double,' as they get out of hand; but in this case we\n were advancing, so I think we might have done so.) I felt\n very much protected. It was really a miracle that we\n weren't nearly all 'wiped out.' The shrapnel seemed very\n poor stuff. As it was, we had one man killed and about\n five or six injured, all more or less slightly.\n\n \"We moved up into a support trench that same evening, and\n after a couple of days we moved a few yards farther to\n these trenches, which are also support trenches. Things\n are very quiet, and I am enjoying myself very much. If it\n wasn't for the unpleasant sights one is liable to see,\n war would be a most interesting and pleasant affair.\n\n \"My friends the other officers of C Company have given\n me the honorary position of 'O.C. Works.' One is always\n 'O.C. something or other' out here--all but the Colonel,\n he is 'C.O.' Orders for the day read: \"O.C. Companies\n will do so-and-so.' Then there are O.C. Details, O.C.\n Reinforcements, etc. 'O.C.' of course stands for 'officer\n commanding.' Well, I am 'O.C. Works,' and have a fine\n time. I just do any job I fancy, giving preference to\n trench improvement. It is fine to have at one's disposal\n a large squad of men with shovels (or without). They\n fill sandbags and carry them, they carry timber and saw\n it, and in short do anything that is required. One can\n accomplish something under these conditions.\"\n\n\n _\"6 p.m._\n\n \"We have been told that we are being relieved to-night,\n and that we are going back to our old place (No. 2). So\n everything should be as before, once we are back. We may\n not manage to get _all_ the way back to-night, as we\n cannot travel by daylight as most of the road is under\n direct observation. If daylight catches us we shall\n encamp in dug-outs _en route_.\n\n \"I am rather disappointed that we are going to-night, as\n Fletcher and I were going to rebuild our dug-out here.\n We both got very keen indeed and had laid out the plan\n carefully. (He has been an architect.)\n\n \"I had another disappointment when I was back in\n the wood (as supports). It reminds me of one of our\n Quartermaster-Sergeants in Edinburgh. He is an Irishman,\n O'Brien. I found him on the platform while we were\n waiting to see a draft off; he looked very despondent.\n I asked him how he was, and was surprised when he\n replied, 'I've had a reverse, sorr!' It turned out that\n he had applied to headquarters for an improvement in his\n position, and was told he _didn't deserve any_. It had\n almost broken his heart!\n\n \"Well, _I_ had a reverse. I was given the job of building\n a hut and was nearly through with it when we were ordered\n away. If we get back to the old wood again I shall go on\n with it, in spite of whatever the present tenants may\n have done in the way of completing it (our guns are now\n 'going at it' hammer and tongs).\n\n \"I did enjoy laying the sandbags and building a proper\n wall with 'headers' and 'stretchers.' I got a very\n good testimonial too, for the Sergeant asked me in all\n seriousness whether I was a brick-setter in civil life. I\n was awfully proud.\n\n\n \"_Later_\n\n \"(I had to leave off here because we were ordered to\n 'fire-rapid' in between periods of our artillery fire,\n and I had to turn out to watch.)\"\n\n\nNOTE BY O. J. L.\n\nThe dream referred to, near the beginning of this long letter to his\nmother, Mr. J. Arthur Hill remembers that I told him of, in a letter\ndated 7 May 1915, which he has now returned; and I reproduce it\nhere:--\n\n\n \"To J. A. H.\n\n \"_7 May 1915_\n\n \"I do not reckon that I often have conscious intuitions;\n and when I have had vivid dreams they have not meant\n anything, though once or twice I have recorded them\n because I have them seldom. I happen, however, to have\n had an intuition this morning, before I was more than\n half awake, which, though not specially vivid, perhaps\n I had better record, namely, that an attack was going\n on at the present moment, that my son was in it, but\n that 'they' were taking care of him. I had this clearly\n in mind before seeing the morning papers; and indeed\n I do not know that there is anything in the morning\n papers suggesting it, since of course their news is\n comparatively old. One might have surmised, however, that\n there would be a struggle for Hill 60, and I know that my\n son is not far off Ypres. (By the way, I have been told\n that the Flemish Belgians really do call it 'Wipers'; it\n does not sound likely, and it needs confirmation. I know\n of course that our troops are said to call it so, which\n is natural enough.) O. J. L.\"\n\nI now (August 1916) notice for the first time that the coincidence\nin time between dream and fact is rather good, especially as it was\nthe only dream or 'impression' that I remember having during the war.\nPractically I do not dream.\n\nBut as this incident raises the question of possible presentiment I\nmust deny that we had any serious presentiment about Raymond. My wife\ntells me that her anxiety about Raymond, though always present, was\nhardly keen, as she had an idea that he would be protected. She wrote\nto a friend on 22 March 1915:--\n\n \"... I ought to get him back safe. I have a hole in my\n heart and shall have till he comes back. I only saw him\n for the inside of an hour before he left, as I was away\n when he came home for six hours....\"\n\nAt the same time I must admit that on the morning of 15 September\n1915 (the day after Raymond's death, which we did not know of till\nthe 17th) I was in an exceptional state of depression; and though\na special game, to which I had been looking forward, on the No. 1\nCourse at Gullane had been arranged with Rowland Waterhouse, I could\nnot play a bit. Not ordinary bad play, but total incompetence; so\nmuch so that after seven holes we gave up the game, and returned to\nthe hotel. To make sure of the date, I wrote to Rowland Waterhouse,\nasking him when that abortive match occurred, since I knew that it\nwas his last day at Gullane. He replies:--\n\n\"Violet and I left Gullane for Musselburgh on Wednesday, 15\nSeptember. Our final match ended that morning on the eighth tee\"\n[which that year was on the reservoir hill].\n\n\nOne more dream I may as well now mention:--\n\nAfter the family had returned home from Scotland and elsewhere,\nnear the end of September 1915, and begun to settle down, Alec,\nwho had felt Raymond's death exceedingly, told me that the night\nbefore he heard the news--or rather the early morning of the same\nday, 17 September--he had had an extraordinarily painful and vivid\ndream, quite an exceptional occurrence for him, and one of which he\nhad spoken to a manageress in the hotel near Swansea where he was\nstaying, describing it as the worst he had ever had in his life. He\ndid not know that it had any significance, and neither do I, as the\ndream, though rather ghastly, was not about Raymond or anyone in\nparticular; but it seemed an odd coincidence that the ill news should\nbe, so to speak, on the way, at the time of a quite exceptional and\npainful impression. The person to whom he told the dream handed him\nthe telegram a few hours later. He has written the dream down, but it\nneed not be reproduced.\n\nNo real provision is involved in any of this, unless it be that of\nan hour or two in my own impression, in May; but for general remarks\non the question of the possibility of prevision Chapter V in Part III\nmay be referred to.\n\n\n \"_Friday, 14 May 1915_\n\n \"I had a glorious hot bath yesterday; Fletcher and I\n went up to the brewery here. The bath is zinc, and full\n length, and we have as much water, and as hot, as we\n like....\n\n \"I spent some time too stemming the leaks in the roof\n of our shed. With my _two_ waterproof sheets I have\n rigged up a kind of chute above my bed, so that any water\n that comes through the roof is led down behind my head.\n I don't know what happens to it there. I thought of\n leading it across on to the man next me, as the Germans\n used to do in the winter campaign. They fitted a pump\n in their trenches and led the delivery pipe forward, so\n that the water used to run into ours--only the plan was\n discovered....\n\n \"I wonder if you saw the appreciation of the soda cake\n on the back of my letter from the woods. M.P. stands for\n Mess President. Fletcher was M.P. and was a very good\n one. I am now, as he has done it for a long time and is\n tired....\n\n \"As cheerful and well and happy as ever. Don't think I am\n having a rotten time--I am not.\"\n\n\n \"_Sunday, 5.40 p.m., 16 May 1915_\n\n \"We had a very fine piece of news yesterday. Over three\n weeks ago we were called out one night and were urgently\n required to dig a certain new trench behind our lines.\n The men worked splendidly and got the job done in a very\n short time (working of course in complete darkness). The\n next day the Brigadier-General inspected the trench and\n sent in a complimentary message about it to our Colonel.\n The day after he complimented us again--for the same\n piece of work! Well, we have had several such jobs to\n do, and just recently we have been to Hill 60, where the\n bulk of our work was deepening the trenches and improving\n the parapets. We were lent for this purpose to another\n Division (the Division that is at the moment occupying\n that area), and were away from here exactly a week. We\n got a splendid testimonial from the General of this other\n Division, who told our Colonel he had got 'a top-hole\n battalion.' Arising out of all this, we have now been\n selected as a 'Pioneer Battalion,' We are relieved from\n all ordinary trench work for some time to come. We simply\n go out at night and dig trenches or build parapets and so\n forth, and have the day to ourselves. This was arranged\n yesterday, and last night we went out and returned here\n at 1.30 a.m. The work is more or less under fire, but\n only from stray shots and nothing very serious. Our\n Colonel is awfully pleased that we have done so well; and\n we are all pleased with the new arrangement. One great\n advantage is that we can settle down in our billets and\n are not continually having to pack up everything and move\n off. We can now start and make tables, chairs, beds, a\n proper door for the hut, a glass window, and so on....\n\n \"As to aeroplanes, when one passes overhead a whistle\n is blown and every one either takes cover or stands\n perfectly still. The men are forbidden to look up. Then\n the whistle is blown several times when the danger is\n past. I am afraid, though, these regulations are more\n honoured in the breach than the observance.\n\n \"We had quite a nice informal service here this afternoon\n sitting in a field. The chaplain has the rank of Major\n and has been out here seven months.\n\n \"Yesterday the Captain, Fletcher, and myself went for a\n ride on horses. We went about five miles out, stopped for\n about twenty minutes at a little inn (the last in Belgium\n on that particular road), and then came back again. The\n country was perfectly lovely, though I did not appreciate\n it as much as I otherwise would have done, as I had a\n trooper's saddle and the Captain would trot. I got most\n awfully sore going out, and thought I should never be\n able to get back. However, I discovered a method at last,\n and that was to go at a full gallop. So I alternately\n went at a walk and 'hell for leather,' and got back in\n comparative comfort. I thoroughly enjoyed it; it was\n very bad for the horse, I am afraid, on the stone setts\n (_pav\u00e9_), but sometimes I could get him on to the softer\n bits at the side. I was terribly afraid some one would\n think the horse was running away with me and 'block' him,\n so I had to look as pleased as possible. And really I\n _was_ pleased, it was such a blessed relief after that\n awful trotting. I trotted along in rear of the other two\n until I could stand it no longer, and then I encouraged\n my nag and hit him until he broke into a canter, and\n then I roared past the others, who cursed like anything\n because theirs wanted to gallop too. My horse's cantor\n changed imperceptibly into a full gallop, and I 'got down\n to it' and felt like a jockey. After about half a mile I\n would walk until the others came up and passed me, and\n then I would go off again. All the same, I am very sore.\n\n \"Good-bye for the present; it is lovely hot weather and\n we are all well--fit--and happy.\"\n\n\n \"_Tuesday, 18 May 1915, 5.15 p.m._\n\n \"MY DEAR NORAH AND BARBARA,--I don't expect I am far\n wrong in attributing my ripping present of dates and figs\n to you two. I did enjoy them, and they are not finished\n yet.\n\n \"They arrived by the first post after we had returned\n from our little trip. We were at Hill 60; it was so\n interesting and rather exciting, although we were there\n chiefly, I think, to improve the trenches, which were\n very shallow and dangerous when we arrived.\n\n \"The men worked splendidly--all night and most of the\n day, and, when we left, the trenches were vastly improved\n and quite habitable. We also made some entirely new ones.\n We are now kept for this sort of job only, and we go out\n working at nights and sleep by day.\n\n \"I must explain to you about 'standing to.' A proportion\n of the men are always awake in the trenches to guard\n against surprises, for as the most likely times for an\n attack are at dawn and at dusk, everybody has to be awake\n and ready then. Of course it does interfere with your\n sleep, and you do not get very much as a rule in the\n trenches, but that is why you are not there for more than\n about three days at a time. In the 'supports' you 'stand\n to' so as to be ready to reinforce the front line quickly\n in case of an attack. Out in 'Rest Billets,' I am glad to\n say, it is no longer necessary.\n\n \"I am so sorry, my friend Fletcher has just gone off\n this morning for a rest cure. I shall miss him awfully.\n He is about five miles away and I am going to ride over\n to-morrow to see him. But later on he will probably go\n back to England. His nerves are all wrong and he needs a\n rest,\n\n \"Good-bye for now, and very best wishes to you\n both.--Your very loving brother,\n\n RAYMOND\"\n\n\n \"I hope you get my _communiqu\u00e9s_ regularly from home\n (swank). Some one must have the time of their lives\n copying out all the stuff I write. I hope, however, there\n are a few grains in the bundle of chaff (I'm fishing\n again)!\n\n \"You say, Norah, that you don't think the ch\u00e2teau was\n as quiet as I described. Well, provided I mentioned our\n gun, that went off at occasional intervals close behind\n it with a terrific report, it was just as I described--a\n peaceful summer afternoon. I know that people think that\n everything in Belgium is chaos and slaughter, but it\n isn't so. For instance, where Fletcher is, is a charming\n country place with trees and fields and everything\n in full green. Simply ripping. If I had only had a\n motor-cycle to see it from instead of a trotting horse I\n should have enjoyed it even more!\n\n R.\"\n\n\n \"_Wednesday, 19 May 1915, 12.50 p.m._\n\n \"You must know that we have now only three officers in\n our Company. I am very sorry indeed to lose Fletcher. He\n went off for a rest cure yesterday morning to a place\n about five miles from here. He is my greatest friend\n in the Battalion, so I miss him very much and hope he\n won't be long away. He will probably go back to England,\n however, as his nerves are all wrong. He is going the\n same way as Laws did and needs a complete rest. I am\n going to ride over to see him this afternoon with the\n Captain. I am afraid it won't be 'good going' as the\n roads are thick with mud. The slightest rain, and they\n are as bad as ever.\n\n \"I told you that I was Mess President (M.P.). I am\n sure you would smile to see me ordering the meals, and\n inspecting the joints. I don't know anything about them,\n and when the cook calls me up specially to view a joint I\n have hastily to decide whether he means me to disparage\n it--or the reverse. However, I am usually safe in running\n it down.\"\n\n\n \"_Thursday, 20 May 1915, 9.10 a.m._\n\n \"We rode over and saw Fletcher yesterday and had tea\n with him. He is with about twenty other similar cases\n in a splendid ch\u00e2teau (this one is not ruined and has\n magnificent grounds). Unfortunately this is probably\n the very worst possible treatment he could have. He has\n nothing to do, no interest in anything, and no society\n except people who, like himself, want cheering. He does\n not read, he does not even walk about the grounds. He\n cannot sleep much, and he said he did not know exactly\n _what_ he did. Under these conditions I know it will not\n be long before he is sent home. Brooding is just the very\n worst thing for him. He sees all the past horrors all\n over again; things which, at the time, he shut his mind\n to. The best treatment (even better than home, _I_ think)\n would be to send him back for a month or so to Crosby. He\n would then have plenty to occupy his mind and would have\n cheerful companions....\"\n\n\n \"_6.20 p.m._\n\n \"I have attached a list of a few slang terms and curious\n expressions in use in this Regiment and I believe\n universal at the moment. Some of these are amazing, and\n it is difficult to trace the origin. 'Drumming up' is\n one, and 'wind up' another. I saw an old Belgian cart\n yesterday, a three-wheeled affair. It had been overturned\n on its side and the spokes of the lowest wheel had been\n broken. Well, some one had 'drummed up' on them--every\n one had disappeared. These men here will 'drum up' on\n anything. 'Drumming up' on a thing does not mean lighting\n a fire _on_ it but _with_ it.\n\n \"When we were at that place where we were for a week,\n there was a most peculiar state of affairs. The Germans\n were holding a small piece of trench joining, and in line\n with, ours. They were only separated from us by double\n barricades--their and ours. They corresponded to the meat\n in a sandwich. [A sketch is omitted.] When I say 'ours'\n I mean the English. I was not actually in this trench,\n but in the one just behind. The trench on one side of the\n 'meat' was held by one of our Companies, and the other by\n another Regiment....\"\n\n\n \"_Friday, 10.20 a.m._\n\n \"My nickname in the Mess is 'Maurice' (with a French\n pronunciation); I am called after the small boy in the\n grocery shop here. The good dame always says 'Oui,\n monsieur le lieutenant!' 'Non, monsieur le lieutenant!'\n to everything one says; she gets in about six to the\n minute. Well, we used to imitate her after our visits\n to the shop, and one day she called out 'Maurice'; so\n Fletcher calls me 'Maurice,' and I reply, 'Oui, monsieur\n le lieutenant.'\"\n\n SOME MILITARY TERMS\n\n WATER-PARTY A fatigue party carrying water.\n\n TO HAVE WIND UP (to rhyme with 'pinned up')--To be\n uneasy, 'on edge.'\n\n DRUMMING UP Making a fire for the purpose of warming food.\n\n BLIGHTY England.\n\n A BLIGHTY WOUND A wound that necessitates invaliding\n home. PUCCA Real, genuine.\n\n RALLY UP A short period of considerable firing in the\n trenches.\n\n DUG-OUT A cramped dwelling-place, usually above ground.\n\n STAND-TO An hour of preparedness at dawn and at dusk when\n every one is awake and wears his equipment (in trenches\n and supports only).\n\n STAND-DOWN The finish of 'stand-to.'\n\n KNIFE-RESTS Barbed wire in sections.\n\n CUSHY A 'soft' thing.\n\n TO GO SICK To report oneself ill to the doctor.\n\n TO GET DOWN TO IT To lie down, go to bed.\n\n CRIBBING OR GROUSING Complaining.\n\n R. L. 20.5.15\n\n\n[_To a Brother_]\n\n \"_26 May 1915_\n\n \"I expect you have read it, but I want to recommend to\n you _Simon Dale_, by Anthony Hope.\n\n \"We had the gas over here on Monday morning about 3 or 4\n a.m. Although it was coming from a point about four miles\n away, as we learnt afterwards, it was very strong and\n made our eyes smart very much.\n\n \"We have got hold of some liqueurs from Railhead, a large\n bottle of Chartreuse and one of Cura\u00e7ao.\n\n \"Good-bye and good luck.\"\n\n\n \"_Saturday, 29 May 1915, 8.30 p.m._\n\n \"We have again done a little move, this time with bag and\n baggage. We are now on the outskirts of 'No. 1,' and due\n west of it. The men have built themselves dug-outs along\n a hedge and we (C Coy. officers) are installed in an\n untouched ch\u00e2teau. Quite comfortable. Fine lofty rooms.\n We only use part of the house. We have the kitchen, and a\n large dining-room on the ground floor. We sleep upstairs\n on the first floor (our valise on hay). At least, Thomas\n and I do, the Captain and Case have moved down and sleep\n on large fat palliasses in the dining-room! We have\n the rest of the house empty to ourselves to-night, but\n various headquarter staffs seem to come in turn and\n occupy two of the other ground floor rooms occasionally.\n\n \"We have been out two nights digging on the opposite side\n of the town, but we have not been ordered out to-night,\n so far.\n\n \"I notice I have now been gazetted back to 15 August, the\n same as most of my contemporaries.\n\n \"There has been a suggestion made that I should take a\n course of machine-gun instruction in order that I might\n act as understudy to our present Machine-Gun Officer\n (M.G.O.) who is Roscoe, and is the successor to Wyatt.\n I agreed, but it may have 'fallen through' owing to the\n move. If it comes off I shall go for a fortnight's course\n to a place which I will call No. 3 [probably St. Omer.]\n\n \"I got a letter from you to-day about 5 p.m. I was so\n glad.\n\n \"No, I am not making things out better than they really\n are. I like to write mostly about the pleasant parts, of\n course. We have our unpleasant moments, shelling and so\n on, but no very bad times as yet. Being on tenterhooks is\n quite the worst part.\n\n \"As regards Fletcher being worse than us, of course he\n came out much earlier. He left Edinburgh for the Front\n on 4 January, and Laws left on 31 December. He has had\n some awful times and the winter campaign, and in any\n case the length of time one is exposed to the mental\n strain and worry makes a difference. I do my best to\n keep cheerful and happy all the time--I don't believe in\n meeting trouble half-way. If there was some indication\n of the termination of the war it would help matters--the\n unending vista is apt to be rather disheartening at\n times. I am very glad Italy is in--at last.\n\n \"By the way, Fletcher has not been sent to England\n (Blighty) after all. He is at Versailles, in the No. 4\n General Hospital there, having a nice time if he can\n enjoy it. This hospital is the Trianon Palace. The\n Captain had a letter from him in which he sent his love\n to 'Maurice' and 'his lordship' (that's Thomas).\"\n\n\n \"_2 June 1915, 4.45 p.m._\n\n \"Our interpreter is a Belgian, and is a very nice man. He\n does our shopping for us in the town, which is ten miles\n or so away, and (as now arranged) he makes the journey\n twice a week. It is very funny to hear him talk, he\n picks up the soldiers' idioms and uses them in the wrong\n places. One he is very fond of is the expression 'Every\n time'! He puts such a funny emphasis on it.\n\n \"The last member of our Mess is a man who has just come\n out and has not long had his commission. He used to be\n Regimental Sergeant-Major to our 1st Battalion and has\n had about twenty-six years' service, so he knows his job.\n\n \"Unfortunately, however, his arrival is not an unmixed\n blessing. The Captain is seized with enthusiasm and wants\n to make our Company the finest Company in the Battalion.\n The result is that we have now nothing but parades and\n much less rest than before. When we were turned into a\n pioneer battalion the Colonel told the men that they\n would go digging at night and would do nothing else\n except for rifle inspection. Now, however, we have in\n addition an hour's drill of various sorts in the morning\n and a lecture to N.C.O.s in the afternoon, at which all\n subalterns have to attend and take notes. On the day\n following a rest night we have to be up about seven\n o'clock, and be on parade while the men do half an hour's\n physical exercise before breakfast. Then we have an hour\n and a half's drill afterwards and the lecture. And these\n parades seem to be growing. I am afraid they will wear\n us all out and the men as well. Thomas feels it most\n and is very worried--although he is Senior Subaltern in\n the Company he is left right out of things. I am afraid\n of his going like Laws and Fletcher did. Some 'rankers'\n are very good fellows. They bring tremendous experience\n with them, but, on the other hand, we bring something\n too, and when they ride the high horse they can be very\n unbearable....\n\n \"I got a supply of paraffin to-day; D Company has bought\n a huge barrel of it, and I sent over a petrol tin for\n some. They gave me nearly two gallons and asked if I\n could let them have a window in exchange! I hunted round\n and found quite a good loose one and sent it across with\n my compliments. The reason they have bought up so much\n paraffin is because their Captain has presented pocket\n Primuses to his men. Each section of twelve men has\n one between them with one man in charge of it. It is a\n killing sight to see their Company sitting in a field and\n drumming up!\n\n \"The Belgian cooking stove is rather a curious thing.\n It is of the same design in every house apparently. It\n consists of a metal urn to hold the fire; this has a\n removable lid for which you can substitute a kettle or\n pan which just fits the round opening. The urn stands\n about 3 feet from the wall and has a flat-shaped iron\n chimney leading into the main chimney. This iron chimney\n can be used for heating pots or for warming plates. The\n base of the urn is an ash collector. You will see that\n there is no oven; this is built separately and is a brick\n affair with a separate fire to it. [Sketch.]\"\n\n\n \"_Thursday, 3 June 1915, 1.30 p.m._\n\n \"I am all right again to-day; you mustn't pay any\n attention to my grumbles, it just depends what I feel\n like; and I am going to stir things up about these\n parades. We had a fine time last night--very exciting.\n We went through the heart of the city and it is still\n very much on fire. The enemy keeps sending an occasional\n shell into it to keep it going. Just on the far side is a\n graveyard, and this has been 'crumped' out of existence\n nearly! It is an unpleasant place to pass now.\n\n \"The town is almost unbelievable. I don't think anyone\n would credit that they could do so much damage and not\n leave a single house untouched, without entering the\n place at all. [Ypres again, probably.]\n\n \"Our digging last night was near a small road much used\n by transport (which is very audible at night). As the\n enemy can hear the rumble of the horse-drawn carts quite\n plainly, they kept on sending shrapnel over, and we had\n quite a warm time of it. We were quite glad to get away\n again. (No one was hit while we were there.)\n\n \"I was very interested in father's pamphlet on 'War and\n Christianity,' and I have passed it on to the others. I\n like the way he gets right outside and looks at things\n from above. It is a very soothing thing to read.[4]...\n\n \"I had such an interesting talk with the interpreter\n yesterday (his rank is the equivalent of one of our\n Sergeant-Majors). He was a merchant in Morocco, and\n chucked up everything and came and joined the Belgian\n army as a private. He fought at Namur, Antwerp, and other\n places, and is most awfully keen. He was offered the\n job of Interpreter to the British Army, and, thinking\n he could help more by that means and also partly for\n monetary considerations, he took the job. He understood\n he would be fighting with us in the trenches, but they\n have put him on to shopping for us! He is awfully\n disappointed. He rides up when he can, and when we went\n up to Hill 60 he went up with our transports and showed\n them the way and helped them a lot, although shells were\n falling all round. He is a most gentlemanly man; his name\n is Polchet....\n\n \"I had a letter from Violet and another from Margaret\n yesterday. I understand they have gone up to Edinburgh\n now; I shall like to go up there too 'after the war.'\n I believe Violet is getting _my_ room ready for me in\n their house. I like everything very plain, just a valise\n and a little hay, and then you see if I am hungry in the\n night----....\n\n \"P.S.--I had a most interesting letter from Oliver. His\n discussion of Italy's motives is fine. I like hearing\n what people think of events; we are apt to get very\n warped views out here unless we have the other point of\n view occasionally.\"\n\n\n \"_Sunday, 6 June 1915, 12 p.m._\n\n \"The Mess was thrown into the greatest state of\n excitement yesterday by the arrival of kippers! How\n splendid!\n\n We had a grand breakfast this morning, quite like the\n summer holidays again--breakfast after a bathe--with Alec\n of course!...\n\n \"By the way, I did not present the last lot of asparagus\n to the Mess--this was not because we didn't appreciate\n it, but because I felt so sorry for M. Polchet (our\n interpreter), and I wondered if he had any green stuff or\n luxuries. So I sent it over to him. And do you know what\n he has done? He has just sent me a shallow wooden box\n with a thick cotton-wool pad in it. In the pad are six\n hollows, and in each hollow is a ripping nectarine. Isn't\n it fine of him?\n\n \"We have roses picked every day for the Mess-room; it\n does improve it. The other evening we had a specially\n nice meal. We sat round the polished table with candles\n in the centre and bowls of roses round them (as a matter\n of fact the bowls were old tinned-fruit tins, but what of\n that). The food was very special, though I can't remember\n what it was, but to crown all there was in the room just\n across the passage ... a real fiddler with a real fiddle.\n I really don't know how he managed to bring a fiddle out\n here; he is a private in the Royal Garrison Artillery,\n and plays simply beautifully. He has long hair and just\n a suggestion of side whiskers, and large boots, and, but\n that he would not be complimented, looks like a Viennese.\n\n \"He started off by playing Grand Opera--I believe--and he\n gave us the Intermezzo from 'Cavalleria Rusticana.' Then\n he gave us 'Gipsy Love' and the 'Merry Widow,' and so on.\n He finished up with American ragtime. We sent him in a\n bottle of whisky half-way through the performance, and\n the music got lighter thenceforward. It was most amusing\n to notice the effect. When we looked in later the whisky\n was standing on the table, and he was walking round it\n with his fiddle, playing hard and apparently serenading\n it!\n\n \"I was inoculated again on Friday evening because it is\n only _really_ effective for about six months, and there\n is going to be a lot of enteric about, I expect. This\n apparently is just the very place for it--flat low-lying\n country, poor water supply, and the soil heavily manured.\n So I have been feeling rather weak and feverish after it,\n but I am better again now. I have to have it done again\n ten days later--but the second time is not so bad.\n\n \"Talking about roses, Thomas picked a beauty this morning\n (before I got up) and brought it to me in bed. It is in\n front of me now, and is 5 inches across, and has a very\n fine smell.\"\n\n\n \"_Wednesday, 16 June 1915, 1.30 p.m._\n\n \"We made an attack early this morning, and our Company\n waited here to receive the prisoners. Poor devils, I do\n feel so sorry for them. One officer of sixteen with six\n weeks' service. Old men with grey beards too, and many\n of the student type with spectacles--not fit to have to\n fight.\n\n \"You remember 'Very Pressing are the Germans'; well,\n that's where I am, right inside the walls. Quite\n shell-proof, but very dank.\n\n \"I have got the machine-gun job, and am going for a\n fortnight's course, starting on the 26th of June.\"\n\n\n \"_Monday, 21 June 1915, 4.30 p.m._\n\n \"We have had an extremely trying time lately, and I am\n very sorry to say we have lost Thomas.\n\n \"He was hit on the head by shrapnel on the night\n after the attack--I expect you saw the account in the\n papers--and died about an hour later, having never\n recovered consciousness.\n\n \"It was a most fatal night--the whole battalion was\n ordered out digging to consolidate the captured\n positions. We got half-way out, and then got stuck--the\n road being blocked by parties of wounded. We waited on a\n path alongside a hedge for over an hour, and though we\n could not be seen we had a good deal of shrapnel sent\n over us. To make matters worse, they put some gas shells\n near, and we had to wear our helmets though the gas was\n not very strong. It was exceedingly unpleasant, and we\n could hardly see at all. It was while we were waiting\n like this that Thomas got knocked out.\n\n \"We are all sorry to lose him, and I miss him very much,\n but it is nothing to the trouble there will be at his\n home, for he is his mother's favourite son.\n\n \"I have written to his mother, but I have not told her\n what makes us feel so mad about it--namely, that we did\n no digging that night at all. When we got to the position\n we were so late, and there was still such confusion there\n due to the attack, that we marched back again and just\n got in before daylight. We might just as well never have\n gone out. Isn't it fairly sickening?\n\n \"The next night we went out again, and we had a very\n quiet night and no casualties. The scene of the battle\n was pretty bad, and I put all my spare men on to burying.\n\n \"Altogether we are very thankful to have a change from\n 'pioneering,' and get back to the trenches!\n\n \"Our chief trouble here is snipers. We are in a wood, and\n parties going for water and so on to our headquarters\n _will_ walk outside the trench instead of in it, just\n because the trench goes like this. [A diagram is\n omitted.] They take the straight course along the side\n in spite of repeated warnings. There is one point that\n a sniper has got marked. He gets our men coming back as\n they get into the trench just too late. We had a man hit\n this morning, but not badly, and a few minutes ago I had\n to stop this letter and go to a man of B Company who had\n got hit, and rather more seriously, at the same spot. I\n have put up a large notice there now, and hope it will\n prevent any more.\n\n \"I am sorry this is not a very cheerful letter, but we\n have all been rather sad lately. I am getting over it\n now. Luckily one absorbs these things very gradually;\n I could not realise it at first. It was an awful blow,\n because, especially since Fletcher went away (he is now\n at home), we had become very friendly, and one is apt\n to forget that there is always the chance of losing a\n friend suddenly. As a matter of fact, Thomas is the first\n officer of C Company that has been killed for seven\n months.\n\n \"When we were up in this wood before, digging (about a\n fortnight ago) B Company lost Captain Salter. I dare say\n you saw his name in the Roll of Honour. We were just\n going to collect our spades and come in, when he was shot\n through the head by a stray bullet.\n\n \"What a very melancholy strain I am writing in, I am\n so sorry. I am quite well and fit. We have mislaid our\n mess-box coming up here with all our specially selected\n foods. The result is we are on short commons--great fun.\n I am eating awful messes and enjoying them. Fried bacon\n and fried cheese together! Awful; but, by Jove, when\n you're hungry.\"\n\n\nLETTER FROM RAYMOND TO THE MOTHER OF AN OFFICER FRIEND OF HIS WHO\nHAD BEEN KILLED\n\n \"_2nd S. Lancashire Regt., B.E.F., Front, 17 June 1915_\n\n \"DEAR MRS. THOMAS,--I am very sorry to say I have to tell\n you the very worst of bad news. I know what Humphrey's\n loss must be to you, and I want to tell you how much it\n is to all of us too. I know I have not realised it yet\n myself properly. I have been in a kind of trance since\n last night and I dread to wake up.\n\n \"He was a very fine friend to me, especially since\n Fletcher went away, and I miss him frightfully. Last\n night (16th to 17th) the whole Battalion went out\n digging. There had been an attack by the English early\n the same morning, and the enemy's guns were still very\n busy even in the evening. Our road was blocked in front\n owing to the moving of a lot of wounded, and while we\n were held up on a little field path alongside a hedge\n we had several shrapnel shells over us. To add to the\n horrors of the situation they had put some gas shells\n over too, and we were obliged to put on our gas helmets.\n While Humphrey was standing with his helmet on in the\n rear of our Company talking to the Captain of the Company\n behind, a shell came over and a piece of it caught him\n on the head. He was rendered unconscious, and it was\n evident from the first he had no chance of recovery.\n He was immediately taken a little way back to a place\n where there was no gas, and here the doctor dressed his\n wound. He was then taken back on a stretcher to the\n dressing-station. He died there about an hour after he\n had been admitted, having never recovered consciousness.\n\n \"If he had to die, I am thankful he was spared pain\n beforehand. It made my heart ache this afternoon packing\n his valise; I have given his chocolate, cigarettes, and\n tobacco to the Mess, and I have wrapped up his diary and\n a few loose letters and made them into a small parcel\n which is in the middle of his valise.\n\n \"The papers and valuables which he had on him at the\n time will be sent back through our headquarters, the\n other things, such as letters, etc., in his other pockets\n I have left just as they were. I hope the valise will\n arrive safely.\n\n \"He will be buried very simply, and probably due east\n of Ypres about three-quarters of a mile out--near the\n dressing-station. I will of course see he has a proper\n cross.\n\n \"Humphrey was splendid always when shells were bursting\n near. He hated them as much as any of us, but he just\n made himself appear unconcerned in order to put heart\n into the troops. Three nights ago we were digging a\n trench and the Germans thought our attack was coming off\n that night. For nearly three-quarters of an hour they put\n every kind of shell over us and some came very close. We\n all lay down in the trench and waited. On looking up once\n I was amazed to see a lone figure walking calmly about as\n if nothing was going on at all. It may have been foolish\n but it was grand.\"\n\n\n \"_Tuesday, 22 June 1915, 4.45 p.m._\n\n \"Well! What a long war, isn't it? Never mind, I believe\n it will finish up without much help from us, and our\n job is really killing time. And our time is so pleasant\n it doesn't need much killing out here. The days roll\n along--nice sunny days too--bringing us nearer I suppose\n to Peace. (One hardly dares even to write the word now,\n it has such a significance.) There have been cases where\n the war has driven people off their heads (this applies\n only, I think, to the winter campaign), but I often think\n if Peace comes suddenly that there will be many such\n cases.\n\n \"It really is rather amazing the unanimity of everybody\n on this subject, and it must be the same behind the\n German front-line trenches.\n\n \"I should think that never in this world before have\n there been so many men so 'fed up' before. And then the\n women at home too--it is wonderful where the driving\n force comes from to keep things going on.\n\n \"But still--I don't want to convey a false impression. If\n you took my last letter by itself you might think things\n were very terrible out here all the time. They are not.\n On the whole it is not a bad time at all. The life is\n full of interest, and the discomforts are few and far\n between. Bad times do come along occasionally, but they\n are by way of exceptions. It is most like a long picnic\n in all sorts of places with a sort of constraint and\n uneasiness in the air. This last is purely mental, and\n the less one worries about it the less it is, and so one\n can contrive to be light-hearted and happy through it\n all--unless one starts to get depressed and moody. And it\n is just that which has happened to Laws and Fletcher and\n one or two others. They had been out long and had seen\n unpleasant times and without an occasional rest; none but\n the very thick can stand it.\"\n\n\n \"_Saturday, 26 June 1915, 6.40 p.m._\n\n \"Here I am installed in the school [Machine Gun] which\n is, or was, a convent. Fine large place and grounds.\n Two officers per bedroom and a large Mess-room; about\n twenty officers up for the course (or more) which starts\n to-morrow (Sunday). Your solution of the Thompson\n acrostic [St. Omer] was perfectly right, we _are_ far\n back. This convent is about two miles from that town.\n\n \"I am so pleased to be in the 'pleasant, sunny land of\n France,' amid absolute peacefulness. We had a curious\n journey. Last night I slept at our transport (and had\n a bath!). I got up soon after six, mounted a horse\n just before eight (after breakfast). My servant and my\n valise, also a groom to bring my horse back, came in a\n limber. And that excellent man Polchet rode all the way\n to _Divisional_ Headquarters with me, although it was\n about six miles out of his way. We got to Headquarters\n at a quarter to ten--a motor-bus was to start at ten\n for here. It started at 10.30 with me, my luggage, and\n my servant (I don't know why he comes last) in it. The\n Harborne motor-buses in the Harborne High Street weren't\n in it. We got shaken to a jelly--we were on top. We went\n back about two miles to pick up some of our Division,\n and having done so, we set off to pick up some of the\n 14th Division, at a point carefully specified in our\n driver's instructions. This was about five miles away,\n in our proper direction. But when we got to the spot we\n discovered they (the Division) had left it a week ago\n and gone to a point quite close to where we had just\n picked up the 3rd Division men. I telephoned in vain;\n we had to go all the way back. We found the place with\n difficulty (we found all our places with difficulty as\n we had no maps), collected the men, and came all the way\n out _again_. Then we came straight here, which was about\n fifteen miles at least. We got here at 4.30 p.m.! Six\n hours' motorbussing! and the bus's maximum was 25 m.p.h.\n at least, I should judge. Luckily it was a glorious day,\n and I sat in front with the driver and enjoyed it all....\n\n \"I told you leave was starting--well, it has now started.\n Three of our officers have gone--and all together! They\n are only getting three clear days in England--but still!\n\n \"I am going to find out when this course finishes--I\n think it lasts for sixteen days--and then I am going\n to apply for my leave to follow on. I wish--oh, how\n I wish--I may get it; but of course many things may\n intervene.\n\n \"If it does come off I hope there will be a\n representative gathering to meet me at dinner. That is,\n I hope Violet will be back from Edinburgh, Lorna and\n Norah from Coniston, and perhaps Oliver and his Winifred\n will pay a flying visit from Cardiff. Haven't I got an\n enlarged opinion of my own importance? I suppose it is\n too much to expect the offices to have a whole holiday!\"\n\n\n \"_Monday, 28 June 1915, 6.15 p.m._\n\n \"The enemy's lines round here do not appear to be\n strongly held, in fact quite the reverse--that is,\n the front lines. But attacks on our part don't always\n pay--even so. Their method, as I understand it, is\n simply to lose less men than we do. Accordingly, they\n leave very few men in their front trench, but what there\n are have a good supply of machine guns and are well\n supported by artillery. We precede our attacks by heavy\n shelling, and the few men get into well-built dug-outs\n until it is over, then they come out and get to work\n with their machine guns on the attacking infantry. The\n trench ultimately falls after rather heavy loss on our\n side (especially if the wire isn't properly cut) and\n the few defenders hold up their hands. Some are made\n prisoners--some are not. If the enemy want the trench\n very badly they try and retake it by means of a strong\n counter-attack, trusting that our men and arrangements\n are in sufficient confusion to prevent adequate support.\n That is why our attacks are so expensive and why we\n aren't constantly attacking. The alternative plan is,\n I think, simply to shell them heavily--in all their\n lines--and leave out the actual attack in most cases....\n\n \"I was so interested to hear that Alec had applied for\n me to come back. It is not at all impossible, because\n I have known two or three cases where officers have\n been recalled--one was chief chemist (or so he said)\n at Brunner Mond's. He was returning as I came out, and\n tried to make one's flesh creep by his tales of war. But\n I don't think it is likely to happen in my case. I only\n wish it would. I should love to come home again, although\n I don't feel as if I had done my bit yet--really. I\n haven't been in any big scrap, and I haven't killed my\n man even....\n\n \"I had a ripping time at the transport; I hope they\n enjoyed the peas--they deserved to. They were hospitality\n itself. They welcomed me, gave me three meals, lent me\n anything I wanted, made room for me to sleep in their\n large room (this necessitated the Quartermaster-Sergeant\n moving his bed into another room), gave me a warm bath,\n and generally made me feel quite at home. They have a\n ripping dug-out. Rooms half underground, 7 feet high,\n plenty of ventilation, boarded floor and walls, and\n a wooden roof supported on square wooden pillars and\n covered in earth well sodded on top....\n\n \"Talking about the Major (Major Cotton), he used to be\n our Adjutant at Crosby--he was Captain then. He came out\n as second in command and has now got the Battalion while\n our Colonel (Colonel Dudgeon) is away sick. The latter\n got his C.B. in the last honours list. He is an excellent\n man. Lieut. Burlton, too, got a Military Cross. He has\n now been wounded twice; he was the moving spirit of the\n hockey matches at Crosby in the old days, and, when he\n was recalled to the Front, his mantle fell upon me....\n\n \"All the officers here are from different regiments with\n a very few exceptions. It is most interesting. At meals,\n Way and I sit among the Cavalry, Dragoons and Lancers,\n etc. They are fine chaps--the real Army officers of which\n there are now all too few.\"\n\n\n \"_Machine-Gun School, G.H.Q., Wednesday, 7 July 1915, 5\n p.m._\n\n \"Here I am getting towards the end of my little holiday,\n only five more days to go. No word has reached me from my\n Battalion on the subject of leave, or of anything else\n for that matter....\n\n \"If this threatened push on Calais is real, or if the\n higher commands have got 'wind up' about it, they will\n very likely stop all leave, and then I shall just have to\n wait until it starts again....\n\n \"I am sure that the fact of our nation being 'down' and\n preparing for a winter campaign will materially assist\n in shortening the war and rendering that preparation\n unnecessary.\n\n \"We have an awfully amusing chap here who is in the\n Grenadier Guards. He is always imitating Harry Tate.\n A great big hefty chap, in great big sloppy clothes\n (including what are known as 'Prince of Wales' breeches).\n He gets his mouth right over to the side of his face and\n says 'You stupid boy!' in Harry Tate's voice. He does\n this in the middle of our instructional squads when some\n wretched person does something wrong with the gun, and\n sends every one into fits of laughter.... [A lot more\n about a motor that wouldn't go.]\n\n \"My M.G. course is going on very nicely. I have learnt\n a very great deal, have been intensely interested, and\n am very keen on the work. My function as a reserve\n machine-gunner should really be to train the reserve\n team and such parts of the main team as are not actually\n required in the trenches, in a safe spot behind the\n lines! It sounds 'cushy,' but those in authority over\n us are not sufficiently enlightened, I am afraid, to\n adopt such a plan. The object of course is to prevent\n your reserve men from being 'used up' as riflemen, as\n otherwise when you want them to take the place of the\n others they are casualties and all their training goes\n for nothing.\n\n The Cavalry officers here are a great joke. They find\n this life very tiring. They are quite keen to get back\n again and have been from the beginning. We, on the other\n hand, fairly enjoy it and are not at all anxious to go\n back to our regiments. That shows the difference between\n the lives we lead. Of course they _have_ been in the\n trenches and have had some very bad times there, but they\n only go in in emergencies and at long intervals....\n\n \"Another difference between us is that they keep their\n buttons as bright as possible and themselves as spick and\n span as can be. The infantry officer gets his buttons\n as dull as possible, and if they are green so much the\n better, as it shows he has been through gas. He likes his\n clothes and especially his puttees to be rather torn, and\n his hat to be any old sloppy shape. If he gets a new hat\n he is almost ashamed to wear it--he is terrified of being\n mistaken for 'Kitcheners'!\n\n \"Lord Kitchener and Mr. Asquith came here last evening.\n Here, to this convent. I don't know what for; but there\n was of course a good deal of stir here.\n\n \"Way and I went into the town last night. We hired a\n _fiacre_ for the return journey. It came on to rain, so\n it was just as well we had a hood. We both thoroughly\n enjoyed the journey. The _fiacre_ was what would be\n dignified by the name of 'Victoria' in England. But in\n France, where it seems to be etiquette not to take any\n trouble over carriagework, _fiacre_ is the only word\n you could apply, and it just fits it. It expresses not\n only its shabbiness but also hints at its broken-backed\n appearance.\n\n \"We went into some stables and inquired about a _fiacre_,\n and a fat boy in a blue apron with a white handkerchief\n tied over one eye said we could have one. So I said, 'O\u00f9\n est le cocher?' and he pointed to his breast and said,\n 'C'est moi!'\n\n \"The fare, he said, would be six francs and the\n _pourboire_. Thoughtful of him not to forget that. We\n agreed, and he eventually produced the usual French horse.\n\n \"The _fiacre_ was very comfortable and we were awfully\n tickled with the idea of us two in that absurd\n conveyance, especially when we passed staff officers,\n which was frequently. Altogether we were quite sorry when\n our drive was over.\"\n\n\nNOTE BY O. J. L.\n\nOn 16 July 1915, Raymond came home on leave, and he had a great\nreception. On 20 July he went back.\n\n\n \"_Sunday, 25 July 1915, 7.30 p.m._\n\n \"I have got quite a nice dug-out, with a chair and table\n in it. The table was away from the door and got no light,\n so I have spent about two hours to-day turning things\n round. I went to bed about three this morning (just after\n 'stand-to') and slept till nearly twelve. Then I had\n breakfast (bacon and eggs). As my former platoon Sergeant\n remarked: 'It is a great thing to have a few comforts, it\n makes you forget there is a war,'\n\n \"So it does until a whizz-bang comes over.\n\n \"I have just seen an aeroplane brought down (German\n luckily). I missed the first part, where one of ours went\n up to it and a flame shot across between them (machine\n gun, I expect). I ran out just in time to see the machine\n descending on fire. It came down quite steadily inside\n our lines (about a mile or more away), but the flames\n were quite clearly visible,\"\n\n\n \"_Thursday, 29 July 1915, 7.35 p.m._\n\n \"Here I am in the trenches again, quite like old times,\n and quite in the swing again after the unsettling effect\n of coming home! You know I can't help laughing at things\n out here. The curious aspect of things sometimes comes\n and hits me, and I sit down and laugh (not insanely or\n hysterically, _bien entendu_; but I just can't help\n chuckling). It is so absurd, the reasons and causes that\n have drawn me to this particular and unlikely field in\n Belgium, and, having arrived here, that make me set about\n at once house-hunting--for all the world as if it was the\n most natural thing in life. And having selected my little\n house and arranged all my belongings in it, I regard it\n as home and spend a few days there. And then one morning\n my servant and I, we pack up everything once more and\n hoist them on to our backs and set off, staff in hand,\n like a pair of gipsies to another field a mile or so\n distant, and there make a new home....\n\n \"I was very loth to leave my front line dug-out, because\n I had arranged things to my liking--had moved the table\n so that it caught the light, and so on. It had a built-in\n table (which took a lot of moving), a chair and a sandbag\n bed. Quite small and snug.\n\n \"But still--this new dug-out back here is quite nice.\n Large and roomy, with windows with bars in them (but no\n glass)--a proper square table on four legs--three chairs\n and a sandbag bed. So I am quite happy. The sandbag\n bed is apparently made as follows: Cover a portion of\n the floor, 6 feet 6 inches by 3 feet 6 inches, with a\n single layer of sandbags filled with earth. Over these\n place several layers of empty sandbags, and the bed is\n finished. If the hollows and lumps are carefully placed,\n the former in the middle and the latter at the head, the\n result is quite a success. Of course one sleeps in one's\n clothes covered by a coat and with an air pillow under\n one's head.\n\n \"We have had a very gay time in the trenches. I think I\n told you how I saw a hostile aeroplane brought down on\n fire in our lines. That was on Sunday, and the official\n report says both pilots killed. On Monday I went down to\n a support trench to have meat tea and a chat with Holden\n and Ventris (two of C Company officers). At a quarter to\n ten there was a loud rumbling explosion and the dug-out\n we were in rocked for several seconds. The Germans had\n fired a mine about 60 feet in front of our trench to try\n to blow in some of our workings.\n\n \"I rushed to my guns--both were quite safe. You should\n have heard the noise. Every man in the place got up to\n the parapet and blazed away for all he was worth. It was\n exciting! One machine gun fired two belts (500 rounds),\n and the other fifty rounds. I heard afterwards that\n several of the enemy were seen to leap their parapets,\n but turned back when they heard the machine guns open\n fire. It took a good while for things to quieten down.\n Some of our miners were at work when it went off, but\n their gallery was some way off and they were quite all\n right.\n\n \"Last night they actually exploded another one! Aren't\n they keen? This was a much smaller affair, but closer to\n our trench. It shook down a portion of our parapet, which\n was easily rebuilt and entombed temporarily two of our\n miners. In neither case were there any casualties....\n\n \"I am so sorry the date of the wedding had to be\n altered, but I agree it was for the best. I only hope\n you remembered to inform the bridegroom--he is often\n forgotten on these occasions, and I have known a lot of\n trouble caused by just this omission.\"\n\n\n LETTER FROM RAYMOND TO MRS. FRED STRATTON, FORMERLY MISS\n MARJORIE GUNN\n\n \"_1 August 1915, Sunday, 11.20 p.m._\n\n \"I am not actually in the trenches at the moment,\n though most of the Battalion is. I was in for five\n days, and then I was relieved about four days ago by\n another officer (Roscoe), who shares with me the duties\n of machine-gun officer. So I am in a dug-out about\n three-quarters of a mile behind the firing line while he\n is taking his turn in that line. (A mine has just gone\n off and shaken the ground, followed by a burst of heavy\n rifle firing. This makes the fourth mine this week! Two\n went off while I was up there, and the whole earth rocked\n for several seconds. The first three mines were theirs,\n this last may be ours, I don't know; we had one ready!)\n\n \"We have been at Hill 60 and also up at Ypres. At present\n we are south of that appalling place, but I learn with\n regret that to-morrow we are moving again and are going\n up north of Ypres. We are all depressed in consequence.\n\n \"What an awfully good letter you have written me; but, do\n you know, it makes me ache all over when you write like\n that about the car. You have only to mention you have got\n a Rover, and I am as keen as mustard to come and tinker\n with it! Aren't I young?\n\n \"But you must know I want to come to New Park in any\n case. I am awfully keen to stay there and see it from\n inside, and see its inmates again after many years (it\n feels like). So after the war (may it be soon!) I am just\n going to arrive. I may let you know!\n\n \"Your remarks on weddings in general depress me very\n much! I hope the bridegroom's lot is better than the poor\n bride's. Because my turn is bound to come!\n\n \"I am so glad Hester gave a good account of my\n appearance. I _am_ very fit, it is the only way to exist\n here. Once you begin to get 'down' and to worry, it\n is all up with you. You go into a rapid decline, and\n eventually arrive home a wreck! But as long as you smile\n and don't care a hang about anything, well the war seems\n to go on quite all right!\n\n \"I enjoyed my few days' leave very much indeed. I had\n five days in England and three full days and four nights\n at home. I dropped into my old life just as if no change\n had occurred. And the time was not long enough to make\n the getting back difficult.\n\n \"This life is a change for me, as you say. I haven't done\n laughing at its humorous side yet. In some ways we get\n treated like schoolboys. More so at Crosby than here,\n however.\"\n\n\n \"_Saturday, 7 August 1915, 7.30 p.m._\n\n \"I have been having rather a bad time lately,--one of\n those times that reminds one that it is war and not a\n picnic,--but, thank goodness, it is all over now.\n\n \"I think I told you that we were about to move up north\n of Ypres, to St. Julien or thereabouts. Well, just before\n we handed over these trenches to one of Kitchener's\n Battalions, the Germans went and knocked down a lot of\n our parapet, and also sent over some appalling things\n that we call 'sausages,' or 'aerial torpedoes,' though\n they are not the latter. They are great shell-shaped\n affairs, about 3 feet along and 9 inches in diameter, I\n should think. They are visible during the whole of their\n flight. They are thrown up about 100 yards into the air\n and fall down as they go up, broadside on--not point\n first. A few seconds after they fall there is the most\n appalling explosion I have ever heard. From a distance of\n 100 yards the rush of air is so strong that it feels as\n if the thing had gone off close at hand. Luckily there\n is a slight explosion when they are sent up, and, as\n I said, they are visible all the time in the air. The\n result is our men have time to dodge them, provided they\n are not mesmerised as one man was. He got stuck with his\n mouth open, pointing at one! A Corporal gave him a push\n which sent him 10 yards, and the 'sausage' landed not\n far from where he had been. Although they have sent more\n than twenty of these things over altogether, we have only\n had one casualty, and that a scratch. Their effect is to\n terrify every one and keep them on tenterhooks watching\n for them. Their purpose is to destroy mine galleries, I\n believe....\n\n \"Monday, August the 2nd, was the day we should have been\n relieved, and that night I went up from headquarters\n and relieved Roscoe, who had had a bad time in the fire\n trenches....\n\n \"They were firing armour-piercing shells that go right in\n and blow the parapet to blazes; dug-outs too, of course,\n if they happen to be near. After punishing the right end\n of the left-hand bit of trench, they traversed along,\n laying waste the whole of our bit.\n\n \"I was in my dug-out with Hogg, another officer. I was\n trying to make tea, but every shell blew out the Primus,\n and covered us in dust. I made it, however, eventually,\n and we had just drunk it when a shell blew the parados\n of the trench down, not far from our door, and the next\n wrecked the dug-out next door to mine (a man who happened\n to be inside having a miraculous escape). We judged it\n was time to clear (the machine guns had already been\n withdrawn to safety), and got away as best we could\n through and over the debris that had been a trench.\n\n \"Later in the day I made my way back, and recovered my\n pack and most of my belongings. It was exciting work\n getting back, because they were sending whizz-bangs\n through the gaps in the parapet, and the communication\n trenches in the rear were blocked in places, so that you\n had to get up on top and 'scoot' across and drop in the\n trench again.\n\n \"That evening they gave us a second shelling, and one hit\n my dug-out fair and square (I had quarters in a support\n trench). When I returned next day for the rest of my\n things--my equipment and some provisions--I had to put\n two men on to dig them out. It took three-quarters of\n an hour to get at them, through the wreckage of timber,\n corrugated iron, and earth....\n\n \"On Tuesday afternoon they sent off another mine,--about\n the seventh since we have been in,--but they are all well\n in front of our parapet. And on Wednesday they gave us\n twelve sausages--the first I had seen.\n\n \"The trouble is, we have a number of mine shafts under\n the ground between our trenches and theirs, and they are\n fearfully 'windy' about them. They keep trying to stop\n us mining them, and their shelling is with the object\n of blowing down our sap-heads. Their mines, too, go up\n short, because they are trying to blow in our galleries;\n or else they are so scared they send them off before they\n are ready. I think the last explanation is probably more\n near the truth, because when one of their mines went up\n recently a lot of Germans went up with it!...\n\n \"We have been in here a fortnight to-night. You can\n imagine how we long for clean clothes. Most of the\n officers have not been out of their clothes all that\n time, but I have been very lucky. I had two good cold\n baths when I was down here before, and to-day I had a\n lovely hot one in a full-length wooden bath. A tremendous\n luxury! Also I had some clean socks to put on....\n\n \"On the day I was shelled out of my dug-out my servant,\n Bailey, was hit on the leg by a piece of shell and has\n gone down the line wounded, not very seriously, I think.\n He is a great loss to me, but I have got another one now,\n Gray, who shapes very well. He is young and willing, and\n quite intelligent.\n\n \"You ask whether that time when the mine went off was the\n first time I had used these guns. Yes, absolutely. The\n plan adopted in trench warfare is to place your guns in\n position with a good wide loophole in front of them, then\n block this up and keep a sharp look-out. When the enemy\n attacks, you blaze away at them, and then shift hurriedly\n to another gun-position and watch the old one being\n shelled to blazes.\n\n \"If you fire on other occasions you are rather apt to\n have your guns knocked out, and we can't afford to lose\n _any_. That is why I was rather horrified to find one gun\n had fired 500 rounds the other night. However, it was\n not discovered. I think the long grass in front hid the\n flashes....\n\n \"Yes, the sandbags might be damp when used for a bed, and\n I always lay my waterproof ground-sheet on top of them. I\n either sleep on that or on some new clean bags laid above\n that again. It is not only dampness, though, that one\n fears!\n\n \"As a matter of fact, one is not very sensitive to\n damp when living so much out of doors. It is common to\n get one's feet slightly wet and go for about four days\n without removing one's boots--most unpleasant, but not in\n the least damaging to health.\"\n\n\n \"_Monday, 16 August 1915, Noon_\n\n \"We are now out and resting after doing a long spell.\n I did nineteen days, and some did a few more days than\n that. Three weeks is a long time to live continuously in\n clothes, boots, and puttees....\n\n \"I came out of the trenches on Thursday night, and was\n really a day too soon, because on Friday we were having\n Orderly-Room right in the country, in front of the C.O.'s\n tent; the Colonel was there surrounded by most of the\n officers, when we heard a shell. Well, that's nothing\n unusual, but this one got crescendo, and we all looked\n up in alarm. Then it got very crescendo, and finally\n cleared us and landed with a loud explosion about 50\n yards beyond us, and not far from several groups of men.\n It was an 8-inch 'crump.' One man only was killed, but\n we knew that more were likely to come over, and so we\n gradually spread out to the sides. Four came altogether\n at two-minute intervals, but we only had two casualties.\n Rather upsetting when we were supposed to be resting. I\n don't know whether they could see our (officers') white\n tents, or whether they saw the cricket match that took\n place on the day before.\n\n \"Anyway we moved our tents slightly--every one put their\n tents where they pleased, and then the Pioneer Sergeant\n came and amused himself daubing green paint on them\n in patches. Ours (three of C Coy.) was the best; the\n splodges looked just like hazel nuts (?) when there are\n three together in their little green cases, and they\n were interspersed with a kind of pansy-shaped flower.\n Altogether a very tasteful and pleasing effect....\n\n \"A couple of gun stocks have come. They arrived from\n Walker's, the makers, and I should very much like to know\n who had them sent. They are ripping, sniping attachments\n with periscopes for use with the ordinary rifle. I shall\n stick to one, and unless I hear otherwise I shall present\n the other one to our sniping officer (honorary rank).\"[5]\n\n\n \"_Wednesday, 25 August 1915, 3 p.m._\n\n \"I am in the trenches once more. We marched in (about\n 10 miles) last night. We had a meal at 3 p.m., and\n marched off soon after six. Our rations (officers')\n went astray, because they were on a hand-cart in charge\n of our servants, who missed their way, so we have had\n practically nothing to eat since late lunch yesterday,\n and are pretty hungry. I have had a piece of chocolate,\n and my water-bottle was nearly full of lemon squash....\n\n \"We are in support trenches at Hooge, just on the left\n of our former position up here. Except for some shelling\n (chiefly ours), things are fairly quiet.\n\n \"Since we were here last the position is greatly\n improved; the Germans have been driven over the ridge in\n front (during the recapture of trenches here), and the\n whole place is much 'healthier' in consequence....\n\n \"I have been out here five calendar months to-day, and in\n the Army just over eleven months. They will be pensioning\n me off soon as an old soldier.\"\n\n\n \"_29 August 1915, 11.30 a.m._\n\n \"I am having a very quiet and lazy time at the moment,\n and feel I deserve it. We went into support trenches for\n three days, and worked two nights from 7.30 p.m. till 3\n a.m. building and improving the fire trench. Then on the\n third night we had a most exciting time. One company,\n under Captain Taylor, was sent up right in front to dig a\n new fire trench to connect with another on our left. We\n had to go up a trench which ran right out into space, and\n which had only just been built itself, and when there we\n had to get over the parapet and creep forward to the new\n line we were to dig. Of course we had to be dead quiet,\n but there was a big moon, and of course they saw us. Most\n of the way we were not more than 30 yards away from their\n front position (and they had bombing parties out in front\n of that). While we were digging we had one platoon with\n bombs to cover us, and some of this party were as close\n as 25 yards to their front position. It was awful work,\n because they kept throwing bombs at us, and what was\n almost worse was the close-range sniping.\n\n \"'Very' lights were going up from the German lines all\n the time, and you could see the bullets kicking up the\n dust all around. When we first got out there I picked out\n my ground pretty carefully before lying down (because the\n recent scrap there was much in evidence), but when the\n snipers got busy I didn't worry about what I was on, I\n just hugged the ground as close as I could. They would\n put the 'Very' lights right into us, and one just missed\n me by a yard. If they are not spent when they come down,\n they blaze fiercely on the ground, and when they finish,\n they look like a little coke fire. They would burn you\n badly if they fell on you. I have seen a dead man that\n one had fallen on afterwards. His clothes were fearfully\n burned.\n\n \"The Germans were on the edge of a wood and our ground\n was tipped towards them, so it was extremely difficult to\n get cover. Shell holes were the best. Soon the men got\n their trenches down, and things were a little better. The\n men worked extremely well, and the Wilts were working on\n our left, and we eventually joined up with them. After\n about five hours' work, the trenches were fit to hold,\n and we filed out and the new garrison filed in. Our\n casualties were much lighter than I should have thought\n possible. The Colonel came along the new trenches just\n before we left, and he was most awfully pleased with C\n Company, and so is the General. Captain Taylor is very\n bucked about it.\n\n \"The scene of this affair was right against the Ch\u00e2teau\n of Hooge, and close to the mine crater. We found a German\n machine gun half buried, but in good condition, and any\n number of souvenirs. The Captain has got a helmet--a\n dirty thing; he had to have it cleaned out, because part\n of the owner was still inside it! It is a rummy shape,\n so flat-topped and square, with a brass spike and a gold\n band down the back. I expect it was an officer's.\n\n \"Oh! I have seen my first German (not counting\n prisoners). I was standing up and a 'Very' light went up,\n so I kept perfectly still. I was looking towards the wood\n where the Germans were (I was 40 or 50 yards away), and I\n saw one quite distinctly walking into the wood.\n\n \"Our men that were killed (sniped) were buried just\n behind, within a quarter of an hour of being hit. Rather\n awful.\n\n \"The actual digging was rather trying in places, and in\n one case they actually came on a horse!--which dates\n it back to November, when we were pushed back to these\n positions in the first battle of Ypres.\n\n \"The men in such places work with their respirators on\n and are often actually sick. I have had whiffs of the\n smell since in my food. Once smelt never forgotten. I\n can tell the difference between a man and a horse, but I\n don't know which I like least.\n\n \"Rather a morbid topic, I am afraid. Well, after leaving\n the scene of our labours (and glad to get out), we called\n for our packs and had to march about two and a half\n miles. We were dead beat when we arrived here (nice safe\n dug-outs--roomy and comfortable--with our valises ready\n to sleep in when we arrived), but we found a good meal\n awaiting us, and about half-past four we 'got down to\n it' and slept till noon. Holden and I share a palatial\n dug-out, and we had breakfast in bed, and I did not get\n up till just before our evening meal at 7. I washed and\n dressed in slacks--had a meal, and later on went to bed\n again. This morning we had breakfast in bed again about\n 9.30, and then I got up, washed and shaved, dressed,\n and am now sitting on my bed, leaning against the wall\n writing my letters.\n\n \"The General let us off 'stand-to' because he knew we\n were fagged out; and it is a great mercy. Turning out\n fully dressed at about 2.30 a.m. and remaining up for\n an hour does not improve one's night's rest. I suppose,\n though, that we shall have to start it soon--perhaps\n to-night.\n\n \"We are here till to-morrow night, I believe, and then\n we go to some fairly nice trenches near the ones we were\n in last. We are short of subalterns--rather--and they\n have taken me off machine guns for the time being. I _am_\n sick, but I get a bit in when I can. In the last trench\n we built (I and my platoon), not the exposed one, there\n was a machine-gun position, and I took great pleasure in\n building it a really good emplacement....\n\n \"Are you doing anything about getting me back for\n Munitions? I don't know what you think about it, and\n whether you think I ought to carry on out here. I am sure\n that after six months I shall be just about fed-up with\n this business, but am not sure that after a couple of\n months at home I shan't be wanting to come out again.\"\n\n\n \"_Wednesday, 1 September 1915, 4.45 p.m._\n\n \"I will just write you a short letter to let you know I\n am still well and happy, and still leading the strange\n life of the picnic-hermit.\n\n \"When I last wrote to you I believe I was in the very\n same spot as now, namely, support trenches in the\n neighbourhood of a now famous ch\u00e2teau. Last time we were\n in for three days, and on the night we left we had a very\n blood-curdling experience digging a trench which was to\n bring us closer to our friends the enemy. But they were\n inclined to resent our advances, and they welcomed us,\n not with open arms, but with lighted bombs. However,\n having completed our work to the great satisfaction of\n those in authority over us (namely, the Colonel and the\n General [Brigadier]), we made good our escape.\n\n \"Then for three blissful days we lived (with our valises)\n in some magnificent dug-outs in one of the safest spots\n in this accursed though much improved neighbourhood.\n These days we spent competing who could sleep furthest\n round the clock (if that is a permissible expression). I\n think I won, and on my record day I got up and dressed\n for dinner at about 7.30 p.m., made my bed afterwards,\n and got back into it again. This halcyon period was only\n interrupted once, when we all had to go out and dig a\n trench one night long. However, the worst feature of\n this expedition was the rain, which made 'going' very\n difficult, and things in general rather uncomfortable\n (especially for the men), so we hadn't much to grumble\n about.\n\n \"Then we came back here and the first night we slept in\n peace, getting up at about 3 a.m. ostensibly for the\n purpose of 'stand-to,' but really to brew ourselves some\n cocoa. Then sleep till 9, 10, or 11, I forget which.\n I crawl to the door of my dug-out and shout for Gray,\n who lives just opposite. 'Breakfast!' I say, and he\n invariably asks, 'What will you have, sir?' just as if he\n could command the larders of the Carlton or the Linga.\n\n \"Knowing my rations, and that an attempt at humour would\n only put me off my _plat du jour_ or daily round, I\n usually think for a few moments and then order eggs and\n bacon, and face the common task. The only variation I\n permit myself is that on one or two days in the week I\n funk the bacon and have boiled eggs. Where do the eggs\n come from? They are purchased out of the Mess fund by our\n Mess cook who lives with the Transport when we are in the\n trenches, and brings them up personally when the rations\n arrive at night. Yes, he has a 'cushy' time of it, does\n our Mess cook; and how can he avoid being happy, living\n as he does in a perpetual transport?\n\n \"What of the days when no eggs are available? Why, then,\n _horrible dictu_, I have fried cheese and bacon!\n\n \"It occurs to me here, although all this was not written\n with intention, that this could be a good place to ask\n whether sausages are yet in season. If they are, a few\n cooked ones (or half cooked) sent out now and again would\n make a splendid variant for our menu.\n\n \"The meat season is hard to follow out here. Bully beef\n is such a hardy perennial. (This does not mean that we\n live on it--I never eat it, there is always a good supply\n of fresh beef.)\n\n \"Blackberries are coming on, I notice with pleasure,\n and I can usually tell what shells are in season (the\n season for sausages in this department is, let us hope,\n mercifully short. I believe we are now in the middle of\n the close-time for this sturdy little fellow, I trust he\n is not utilising it to increase and multiply).\n\n \"I am sorry I have had rather a sharp attack of\n parentheses lately, the touch of winter in the air cramps\n my style. And I really did think this was going to be\n quite a short letter. I cannot divine my moods, I find, I\n did not feel like writing until I got going.\n\n \"Please thank father very much indeed for the\n sniperscopes. I have given one to the Captain of D\n Company, who is keen on everything. He is an engineer\n (civil), and is a most useful man out here. I have not\n tried mine yet, as I haven't been in a fire trench, and\n it would hardly be fair to use it in a support trench,\n the backs of our infantry in the trench in front being\n too easy a target to give the thing a fair trial.\n\n \"Oh! I was telling you about my work in this trench but\n got switched off on to food. Last time I was here I\n (and my platoon) worked for two nights from 7.30 till\n 3 improving the parapets. Well, the second night of\n _this_ period (last night) I had got all sorts of plans\n ready and was going to have a thoroughly good night\n building dug-outs, draining the trench, and building a\n second machine-gun emplacement (not my job really at\n the moment). However, word came along that the platoon\n was wanted to dig another trench right in front again\n and near the other one. They said, 'A covering party\n with bombs will be provided, and send in your casualty\n report in the morning!' So I asked if they were supplying\n stretchers and all complete! But they were not. It is\n a most cheering way of sending you off, is it not? It\n is a wonder they did not make us take up our own grave\n crosses, just in case.\n\n \"(By the way, it is most impressive to meet two men\n walking along at night and one carrying a large white\n cross. The burying and decking of the graves is done\n very well here, and conscientiously. There is a special\n organisation for making the crosses, lettering them and\n putting them up. The position of the grave is reported to\n them, with the particulars, and they do the rest.)\n\n \"The great difference in last night's job was that I only\n had a platoon to deal with, while before the Captain had\n a whole company. Also I was not quite so close to the\n enemy (we were 30 yards off, and less, before), and the\n moon was mostly obscured. I determined not to let them\n know we were working, so I crept out and explored the\n ground with the Corporal of the covering party (this was\n the worst part of the job, because you did not know when\n you might not come across a party of the enemy in the\n many shell holes and old trenches with which the ground\n was covered). I had my large revolver in my pocket, but I\n did not want to use it, as it would have given our game\n away.\n\n \"All went well, and I got the men placed out in absolute\n silence, with the covering party pushed out in front to\n listen and watch. The men worked very quietly, and when a\n light went up they got down and kept still. Lights were\n very few, because the enemy had got a working party out\n too--at one side, and we could occasionally hear them\n driving in stakes for wire.\n\n \"We had to use picks in some places where the ground\n was stony, and these are the hardest to keep quiet. We\n got through it all right, and only one shot, I think,\n was fired all the time. It came fairly close, too. I am\n sure they guessed we were out, because when one light\n went up I hadn't time to get down, so I kept still and I\n plainly saw a Hun standing upright on his own parapet.\n He straightened up as the light grew bright, and I just\n caught sight of the movement and saw him then distinctly.\n\n \"The ground out there has been fought over a good deal,\n and there are plenty of souvenirs about. I have got one\n myself--a Hun rifle. The original owner, who was buried\n with it--probably by a shell--happened to lie exactly\n where we dug our trench, and we were obliged to move him\n elsewhere. I brought his rifle home and put it over the\n door of my dug-out. That was early this morning. But the\n enemy have been putting shrapnel over us (in reply to\n a good 'strafing' by our guns), and one piece has gone\n clean through the stock.\n\n \"Our artillery are going great guns nowadays. It\n certainly feels as if the shell supply was all right--or\n nearly so.\n\n \"I don't know whether we shall be wanted for any job\n to-night, or whether we shall rest, or whether I can get\n on with my projects. I must go round and see Captain T.\n in the other trench. By the way, he came to see how I\n was getting on last night about midnight, and was very\n pleased with the work and with the fact that we were\n having no casualties.\n\n \"That cake was fine, and much appreciated in the Mess.\n The little knife you gave me when home on leave is\n proving most useful.\n\n \"Please thank Lionel for chocolate received and Alec for\n gourdoulis.\n\n \"I have sent another box of Surplus Kit home addressed\n to No\u00ebl. Rather late to do it, I know, and I shall want\n one or two of the things sent back later, but not for\n a long time, and it is a relief to get rid of some of\n my impedimenta. The socks returned want mending. That\n reminds me, thank you and please thank Miss Leith very\n much for the socks. They are quite all right for size.\n Perhaps not so long and narrow in the foot might be\n better, but it doesn't seem to affect the wear; they are\n most comfortable.\n\n \"I am still attached to the Company and not to the\n machine guns--much to my annoyance.\"\n\n\n \"_Monday, 6 September 1915, 9.30 p.m._\n\n \"Thank you so much for your inspiring and encouraging\n letter. I hope I am being useful out here. I sometimes\n doubt if I am very much use--not as much as I should like\n to be. Possibly I help to keep C Company officers more\n cheerful! I am very sorry they have taken me off machine\n guns for the present, I hope it may not be long.\n\n \"Great happenings are expected here shortly and we are\n going to have a share. We are resting at present and have\n been out a few days now. We had only two periods of three\n days each in the trenches last time in....\n\n \"Our last two days in the trenches were appallingly wet.\n My conduct would have given me double pneumonia at home.\n My rain-coat was soaked, so I had to sleep in shirt\n sleeves under my tunic, and the knees of my breeches were\n wet.\n\n \"The next day the rain was incessant, and presently I\n found the floor of my dug-out was swimming--the water\n having welled up through the ground below and the\n sandbags.\n\n \"I didn't have to sleep on it luckily, because we were\n relieved that night. But before we went I had to turn\n out with fifty men and work till midnight in water up to\n one foot deep. So at 8.30 p.m. I got my boots full of\n cold water and sat out in them till 12, then marched some\n eight miles. After nine hours' rest and some breakfast we\n came here, another three or four. It was nice to get a\n dry pair of boots and our valises and a tent.\n\n \"That night I rode into Poperinghe with Captain Taylor,\n and we had a really good dinner there--great fun.\n\n \"We have a full set of parades here unfortunately,\n otherwise things are all right....\n\n \"Alec has very kindly had a 'Molesworth' sent me. Most\n useful.\n\n \"I would like a motor paper now and then, I think! _The\n Motor_ for preference--or _The Autocar_. Aren't I young?\n\n \"Captain Taylor has sprained his ankle by falling from\n his horse one night, and has gone to a rest home near.\n So I am commanding C Company at the moment. Hope not for\n long. Too responsible at the present time of crisis.\n\n\n \"_9 September, 3.30 p.m._\n\n \"Must just finish this off for post.\n\n \"We have just had an inspection by the Army Corps\n Commander, Lieut.-General Plumer [Sir Herbert].\n\n \"I am still in command of C Company, and had to call them\n to attention and go round with the General, followed by a\n whole string of minor generals, colonels, etc. He asked\n me a good many questions:--\n\n \"First.--How long had I had the Company? Then, how long\n had I been out? I said since March. He then asked if I\n had been sick or wounded even, and I said no!\n\n \"Then he said, 'Good lad for sticking it!' at least I\n thought he was going to.\n\n \"We are kept very busy nowadays. I must try and write a\n proper letter soon. I do apologise.\n\n \"A box of cigarettes has arrived from, I suppose, Alec.\n Virginias, I mean, and heaps of them.\n\n \"We have just got another tent--we have been so short and\n have been sleeping five in. Now we shall be two in each.\n The new one is a lovely dove-grey--like a thundercloud.\n After the war I shall buy one.\n\n \"I shall be quite insufferable, I know; I shall want\n everything done for me on the word of command. Never\n mind--roll on the end of the war!\n\n \"Cheer-ho, lovely weather, great spirits! Aeroplane\n [English] came down in our field yesterday slightly on\n fire. All right though.--Good-bye, much love,\n\n \"RAYMOND [MAURICE].\"\n\n\n \"_Sunday, 12 September 1915, 2 p.m._\n\n \"You will understand that I still have the Company to\n look after, and we are going into the front-line trenches\n this evening at 5 p.m. for an ordinary tour of duty. We\n are going up in motor buses!...\n\n \"Capt. T. thinks he will be away a month!\"\n\n\nTELEGRAM FROM THE WAR OFFICE\n\n \"_17 September 1915_\n\n \"Deeply regret to inform you that Second Lieut. R. Lodge,\n Second South Lancs, was wounded 14 Sept. and has since\n died. Lord Kitchener expresses his sympathy.\"\n\n\nTELEGRAM FROM THE KING AND QUEEN\n\n _21 September 1915_\n\n \"The King and Queen deeply regret the loss you and the\n army have sustained by the death of your son in the\n service of his country. Their Majesties truly sympathise\n with you in your sorrow.\"\n\n [Footnote 3: See Note by O. J. L. at the end of this\n letter.]\n\n [Footnote 4: This must have been part of my book \"The War\n and After.\"--O. J. L.]\n\n [Footnote 5: Thos. Walker & Son, of Oxford Street,\n Birmingham, had kindly given me two periscope rifle-stock\n attachments with excellent mirrors, so as to allow\n accurate sighting.--O. J. L.]\n\n [Footnote 6: Lieutenant Case himself, alas! was killed\n on the 25th of September 1915. It was a fatal time.\n Lieutenant Fletcher also has been killed now, on 3rd July\n 1916.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nLETTERS FROM OFFICERS\n\n\nSome letters from other officers gradually arrived, giving a few\nparticulars. But it was an exceptionally strenuous period at the Ypres\nsalient, and there was little time for writing. Moreover, some of his\nfriends were killed either at the same time or soon afterwards.\n\nThe fullest account that has reached us is in the following letter,\nwhich arrived eight months later:--\n\n\nLETTER FROM LIEUTENANT WILLIAM ROSCOE TO SIR OLIVER LODGE\n\n \"_7th Brigade Machine-Gun Company, B.E.F., 16 May 1916_\n\n \"DEAR SIR OLIVER LODGE,--When I was lately on leave,\n a brother of mine, who had met one of your relatives,\n encouraged me to write and tell you what I knew of your\n son Raymond. I was in the South Lancashire Regiment when\n he joined the Battalion out here last spring, and I think\n spent the first spell he had in the trenches in his\n company.\n\n \"Afterwards I became Machine Gunner, and in the summer\n he became my assistant, and working in shifts we tided\n over some very trying times indeed. In particular\n during August at St. Eloi. To me at any rate it was\n most pleasant being associated together, and I think he\n very much preferred work with the gunners to Company\n work. Being of a mechanical turn of mind, he was always\n devising some new 'gadget' for use with the gun--for\n instance, a mounting for firing at aeroplanes, and a\n device for automatic traversing; and those of my men who\n knew him still quote him as their authority when laying\n down the law and arguing about machine gunning.\n\n \"I wish we had more like him, and the endless\n possibilities of the Maxim would be more quickly brought\n to light.\n\n \"I am always glad to think that it was not in any way\n under my responsibility that he was killed.\n\n \"During September times grew worse and worse up in the\n Ypres salient, culminating in the attack we made on the\n 25th, auxiliary to the Loos battle. The trenches were\n ruins, there was endless work building them up at night,\n generally to be wrecked again the next day. The place was\n the target for every gun for miles on either side of the\n salient.\n\n \"Every day our guns gave the enemy a severe bombardment,\n in preparation for the attack, and every third or fourth\n day we took it back from them with interest: the place\n was at all times a shell trap.\n\n \"It was during this time that your son was killed.\n He was doing duty again with the Company, which was\n short-handed, and I remember one night in particular\n being struck with his cheerfulness on turning out to a\n particularly unpleasant bit of trench digging in front\n of our lines near the Stables at Hooge, a mass of ruins\n and broken trenches where no one could tell you where you\n might run across the enemy; but the men had to dig for\n hours on end, with only a small covering party looking\n out a few yards in front of them.\n\n \"The morning your son was killed they were bombarding\n our trenches on the top of the hill, and some of the men\n were being withdrawn from a bad piece. He and Ventris\n were moving down the trench in rear of the party--which I\n think must have been seen--for a shell came and hit them\n both, but I think none of the men in front.\n\n \"Some time later, I don't know how long, I was going\n up to the line to visit the guns, when I saw Ventris,\n who was killed, laid out ready to be carried down,\n and presently I saw your son in a dug-out, with a man\n watching him. He was then quite unconscious though still\n breathing with difficulty. I could see it was all over\n with him. He was still just alive when I went away.\n\n \"Our regiment was to lose many more on that same hill\n before the month was over, and those of us that remain\n are glad to be far away from it now; but I always feel\n that anyone who has died on Hooge Hill has at all events\n died in very fine company.--Yours sincerely,\n\n \"(Signed) WILLIAM ROSCOE, _Lieut. 2nd S. Lancs. Regt.,\n attached 7th Brigade, M.G. Company_\"\n\n\nLETTER FROM LIEUTENANT FLETCHER, GREAT CROSBY, LIVERPOOL\n\n \"_21 September 1915_\n\n \"Raymond was the best pal I've ever had, and we've always\n been together; in the old days at Brook Road, then in\n Edinburgh, and lastly in France, and nobody could ever\n have a better friend than he was to me.\n\n \"I'll never forget the first day he came to us at\n Dickebusch, and how pleased we all were to see him again;\n and through it all he was always the same, ever ready\n to help anyone in any way he could, whilst his men were\n awfully fond of him and would have done anything for him.\"\n\n \"_24 September 1915_\n\n \"I hear that we were digging trenches in advance of our\n present ones at St. Eloi last week, so it must have been\n then that he was hit, as he was awfully keen on digging\n new trenches, and heaps of times I've had to tell him to\n keep down when he was watching the men working....\n\n \"I always thought he would come through all right, and I\n know he thought so himself, as, the last time I saw him,\n we made great plans for spending some time together when\n we got back, and it seems so difficult to realise that he\n has gone.\n\n (Signed) ERIC S. FLETCHER.\"\n\n\nLETTER FROM LIEUTENANT CASE TO BRODIE\n\n \"_Thursday, 23 September 1915_\n\n \"Yes, I knew Raymond Lodge very well, and he was indeed\n a friend of mine, being one of the nicest fellows it\n has ever been my privilege to meet. I was with him when\n he died. This was how it happened to the best of my\n knowledge.\n\n \"'A' Company (the one I am in) and 'C' Company were in\n the trenches at the time. The gunners had sent up word\n that there was going to be a bombardment, and so they\n recommended us to evacuate the front-line trenches, in\n case the Hun retaliated, and it was whilst C Company\n were proceeding down the communication trench, till the\n bombardment was over, that the shell came which killed\n your brother. He was in command of C Company at the time,\n and was going down at the rear of his men, having seen\n them all safely out of the trenches. His servant, Gray,\n was hit first, in the head (from which he afterwards\n died). Then Lodge went along to tell the Sergeant-Major,\n and to see about assistance, farther down the trench.\n Whilst talking to the Company Sergeant-Major he was hit in\n the left side of the back, by a piece of shell, I think.\n Lower down the trench poor Ventris was hit and killed. As\n soon as I heard about it I went along to see if I could be\n of any use. I saw Lodge lying in a dug-out, with a servant\n looking after him. I saw he was badly hit, and tried to\n cheer him up. He recognised me and was just able to ask a\n few questions. That must have been about twenty minutes or\n so after he was hit. I think he lived about half an hour,\n and I don't think he suffered much pain, thank God.\n\n \"I was very, very grieved at his death, for he was one\n of the very nicest fellows I have met. That he was\n universally liked, both by officers and men, it is\n needless to say....\n\n \"I was for nearly three months in C Company with your\n brother, and was thus able to see his extreme coolness and\n ability in military matters.\n\n (Signed) G. R. A. CASE\"\n\n\nLETTER FROM LIEUTENANT CASE TO LADY LODGE\n\n \"_Friday, 24 September 1915_\n\n \"Need I say how grieved we all were at his loss? He was\n hit about midday, and died about half an hour or so\n afterwards. I forget the date, but I have written more\n fully to his brother. I don't think he suffered much\n pain. He was conscious when I arrived, and recognised me,\n I think, and I remained with him for some time. I then\n went off to see if there was any possibility of finding\n the doctor, but all the telephone wires were cut, and\n even if we had been able to get the doctor up, it would\n have been of no avail. The stretcher-bearers did all that\n was possible.... Another subaltern, Mr. Ventris, was\n killed at the same time, as was his servant Gray as well.\n\n \"(Signed) G. R. A. CASE\"[6]\n\n\nLETTER FROM CAPTAIN S. T. BOAST\n\n \"_27 September 1915_ \"First of all I beg to offer you and\n your family my sincere sympathies in the loss of your\n son, 2nd Lieut. Lodge. His loss to us is very great: he\n was a charming young fellow--always so very cheerful\n and willing, hard working, and a bright example of what\n a good soldier ought to be. He was a most efficient\n officer, and only recently qualified in the handling and\n command of Maxim guns--a most useful accomplishment in\n the present war. Briefly, the circumstances which led to\n his death were as follows:--\n\n \"On 14 September, C Company to which 2nd Lieut. Lodge\n belonged, was in position in a forward fire trench.\n During the morning the commander of the artillery\n covering the position informed 2nd Lieut. Lodge, who\n at the time was in command of C Company, that it was\n intended to shell the enemy's positions, and as his\n trenches were only a short distance from ours, it was\n considered advisable to withdraw from our trench during\n the shelling. 2nd Lieut. Lodge gave orders for his\n Company to withdraw into a communication trench in the\n rear. He and 2nd Lieut. Ventris were the last to leave\n the forward trench, and in entering the communication\n trench both these officers were caught by enemy's\n shrapnel. Ventris was killed--Lodge mortally wounded and\n died of his wounds shortly afterwards. These are the\n circumstances of his death.\"\n\n\nFROM CAPTAIN A. B. CHEVES, R.A.M.C.\n\n \"_22 September 1915_\n\n \"The Colonel has asked me to write you, giving some idea\n of the burial-ground in which your son's grave is. I\n understand that he was leading his Company back from one\n of the communication trenches when the Germans shelled\n the front and rear of the column, killing your son and\n the officer who was at the rear. At the same time one man\n was killed and two wounded. I knew nothing about this\n until later in the day, as communication with my aid post\n was very difficult, and he was reported to me as having\n been killed. I understand that he lived for about three\n hours after being wounded, and all the officers and men\n who were present speak very highly of his conduct during\n this time. His wound was unfortunately in such a position\n that there was no chance of saving his life, and this was\n recognised by all, including your son himself. When his\n body was brought down in the evening the expression on\n his face was absolutely peaceful, and I should think that\n he probably did not suffer a great deal of pain. He was\n buried on the same evening in our cemetery just outside\n the aid post, side by side with Lieut. Ventris, who was\n unfortunately killed on the same day. The cemetery is\n in the garden adjoining a ruined farm-house. It is well\n enclosed by hedges, and your son's grave is under some\n tall trees that stand in the garden. There are graves\n there of men of many regiments who have fallen, and our\n graves are enclosed by a wire fence, so keeping them\n quite distinct from the others. There is a wooden cross\n marking the head of the grave, and a small one at the\n foot. I am afraid that our condolences will be small\n consolation to you, but I can assure you that he was one\n of the most popular officers with the Battalion, both\n amongst the officers and men, and all feel his loss very\n greatly.\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n Information sent by Captain Cheves to Mrs. Ventris,\n mother of the Second Lieutenant who was killed at the\n same time as Raymond and buried with him:--\n\n \"He was buried on the right of the Ypres-Menin Road, just\n past where the Zonebeke Rail cuts. If you can get hold of\n Sheet 28, Belgium 1/40,000, the reference is I. 16. b 2.\n Any soldier will show you how to read the map.\"\n\n[Illustration: RAYMOND, 1915]\n\n\nLETTER FROM A FOREMAN WORKMAN\n\n[I also append a letter received from a workman who used to be at the\nsame bench with Raymond when he was going through his workshop course\nat the Wolseley Motor Works. Stallard is a man he thought highly of,\nand befriended. He is now foreman in the Lodge Fume Deposit Company,\nafter making an effort to get a berth in Lodge Brothers for Raymond's\nsake. He is now, and has been since the war began, the owner of\nRaymond's dog Larry, about whom some local people remember that there\nwas an amusing County Court case.]\n\n\n \"_98 Mansel Road, Small Heath, Birmingham, 17 September\n 1915_\n\n \"DEAR MR. LIONEL,--The shock was too great for me to\n speak to you this afternoon. I should like to express to\n you, and all the family, my deepest and most heartfelt\n sympathy in your terrible loss. Mr. Raymond was the best\n friend I ever had.\n\n \"Truly, I thought more of him than any other man living,\n not only for his kind thoughts towards me, but for his\n most admirable qualities, which I knew he possessed.\n\n \"The memory of him will remain with me as long as I\n live.--Believe me to be, yours faithfully,\n\n \"(Signed) NORMAN STALLARD\"\n\n\n [Footnote 6: Lieutenant Case himself, alas! was killed\n on the 25th of September 1915. It was a fatal time.\n Lieutenant Fletcher also has been killed now, on 3rd July\n 1916.]\n\n\n\n\nPART TWO: SUPERNORMAL PORTION\n\n \"Peace, peace! he is not dead, he doth not sleep--\n He hath awakened from the dream of life.\"\n\n SHELLEY, _Adonais_.\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\n\nI have made no secret of my conviction, not merely that personality\npersists, but that its continued existence is more entwined with the\nlife of every day than has been generally imagined; that there is no\nreal breach of continuity between the dead and the living; and that\nmethods of intercommunion across what has seemed to be a gulf can\nbe set going in response to the urgent demand of affection,--that\nin fact, as Diotima told Socrates (_Symposium_, 202 and 203), LOVE\nBRIDGES THE CHASM.\n\nNor is it affection only that controls and empowers supernormal\nintercourse: scientific interest and missionary zeal constitute\nsupplementary motives which are found efficacious; and it has been\nmainly through efforts so actuated that I and some others have been\ngradually convinced, by direct experience, of a fact which before\nlong must become patent to mankind.\n\nHitherto I have testified to occurrences and messages of which the\nmotive is intellectual rather than emotional: and though much, very\nmuch, even of this evidence remains inaccessible to the public,\nyet a good deal has appeared from time to time by many writers in\nthe _Proceedings_ of the Society for Psychical Research, and in my\npersonal collection called _The Survival of Man_. No one therefore\nwill be surprised if I now further testify concerning communications\nwhich come home to me in a peculiar sense; communications from which\nsentiment is not excluded, though still they appear to be guided\nand managed with intelligent and on the whole evidential purpose.\nThese are what I now decide to publish; and I shall cite them as\namong those evidences for survival for the publication of which some\nlegitimate demand has of late been made, owing to my having declared\nmy belief in continued existence without being able to give the full\ngrounds of that belief, because much of it concerned other people.\nThe portion of evidence I shall now cite concerns only myself and\nfamily.\n\nI must make selection, it is true, for the bulk has become great;\nbut I shall try to select fairly, and especially shall give in fair\nfulness those early communications which, though not so free and easy\nas they became with more experience, have yet an interest of their\nown, since they represent nascent powers and were being received\nthrough members of the family to whom the medium was a complete\nstranger and who gave no clue to identity.\n\nMessages of an intelligible though rather recondite character from\n\"Myers\" began to reach me indeed a week or two before the death of\nmy son; and nearly all the messages received since his death differ\ngreatly in character from those which in the old days were received\nthrough any medium with whom I sat. No youth was then represented as\neager to communicate; and though friends were described as sending\nmessages, the messages were represented as coming from appropriate\npeople--members of an elder generation, leaders of the Society for\nPsychical Research, and personal acquaintances. Whereas now, whenever\nany member of the family visits anonymously a competent medium, the\nsame youth soon comes to the fore and is represented as eager to prove\nhis personal survival and identity.\n\nI consider that he has done so. And the family scepticism, which up\nto this time has been sufficiently strong, is now, I may fairly say,\noverborne by the facts. How far these facts can be conveyed to the\nsympathetic understanding of strangers, I am doubtful. But I must\nplead for a patient hearing; and if I make mistakes, either in what I\ninclude, or in what for brevity I omit, or if my notes and comments\nfail in clearness, I bespeak a friendly interpretation: for it is\ntruly from a sense of duty that in so personal a matter I lay myself\nopen to harsh and perhaps cynical criticism.\n\nIt may be said--Why attach so much importance to one individual case?\nI do not attach especial importance to it, but every individual case\nis of moment, because in such a matter the aphorism _Ex uno disce\nomnes_ is strictly applicable. If we can establish the survival of\nany single ordinary individual we have established it for all.\n\nChristians may say that the case for one Individual was established\nnearly 1900 years ago; but they have most of them confused the issue\nby excessive though perhaps legitimate and necessary emphasis on the\nexceptional and unique character of that Personality. And a school of\nthought has arisen which teaches that ordinary men can only attain\nimmortality vicariously--that is, conditionally on acceptance of a\ncertain view concerning the benefits of that Sacrificial Act, and\nactive assimilation of them.\n\nSo without arguing on any such subject, and without entering in the\nslightest degree on any theological question, I have endeavoured to\nstate the evidence fully and frankly for the persistent existence of\none of the multitude of youths who have sacrificed their lives at the\ncall of their Country when endangered by an aggressor of calculated\nruthlessness.\n\nSome critics may claim that there are many stronger cases of\nestablished survival. That may be, but this is a case which touches\nme closely and has necessarily received my careful attention. In so\nfar as there are other strong cases--and I know of several--so much\nthe better. I myself considered the case of survival practically\nproven before, and clinched by the efforts of Myers and others of\nthe S.P.R. group on the other side; but evidence is cumulative, and\nthe discussion of a fresh case in no way weakens those that have\ngone before. Each stick of the faggot must be tested, and, unless\nabsolutely broken, it adds to the strength of the bundle.\n\nTo base so momentous a conclusion as a scientific demonstration of\nhuman survival on any single instance, if it were not sustained on\nall sides by a great consensus of similar evidence, would doubtless\nbe unwise; for some other explanation of a merely isolated case would\nhave to be sought. But we are justified in examining the evidence for\nany case of which all the details are known, and in trying to set\nforth the truth of it as completely and fairly as we may.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nELEMENTARY EXPLANATION\n\n\nFor people who have studied psychical matters, or who have read any\nbooks on the subject, it is unnecessary to explain what a 'sitting'\nis. Novices must be asked to refer to other writings--to small books,\nfor instance, by Sir W. F. Barrett or Mr. J. Arthur Hill or Miss H.\nA. Dallas, which are easily accessible, or to my own previous book on\nthis subject called _The Survival of Man_, which begins more at the\nbeginning so far as my own experience is concerned.\n\nOf mediumship there are many grades, one of the simplest forms being\nthe capacity to receive an impression or automatic writing, under\npeaceful conditions, in an ordinary state; but the whole subject\nis too large to be treated here. Suffice it to say that the kind\nof medium chiefly dealt with in this book is one who, by waiting\nquietly, goes more or less into a trance, and is then subject to\nwhat is called 'control'--speaking or writing in a manner quite\ndifferent from the medium's own normal or customary manner, under\nthe guidance of a separate intelligence technically known as 'a\ncontrol,' which some think must be a secondary personality--which\nindeed certainly is a secondary personality of the medium, whatever\nthat phrase may really signify--the transition being effected in most\ncases quite easily and naturally. In this secondary state, a degree\nof clairvoyance or lucidity is attained quite beyond the medium's\nnormal consciousness, and facts are referred to which must be outside\nhis or her normal knowledge. The control, or second personality which\nspeaks during the trance, appears to be more closely in touch with\nwhat is popularly spoken of as 'the next world' than with customary\nhuman existence, and accordingly is able to get messages through\nfrom people deceased; transmitting them through the speech or writing\nof the medium, usually with some obscurity and misunderstanding, and\nwith mannerisms belonging either to the medium or to the control.\nThe amount of sophistication varies according to the quality of the\nmedium, and to the state of the same medium at different times;\nit must be attributed in the best cases physiologically to the\nmedium, intellectually to the control. The confusion is no greater\nthan might be expected from a pair of operators, connected by a\ntelephone of rather delicate and uncertain quality, who were engaged\nin transmitting messages between two stranger communicators, one of\nwhom was anxious to get messages transmitted, though perhaps not\nvery skilled in wording them, while the other was nearly silent and\nanxious not to give any information or assistance at all; being,\nindeed, more or less suspicious that the whole appearance of things\nwas deceptive, and that his friend, the ostensible communicator, was\nnot really there. Under such circumstances the effort of the distant\ncommunicator would be chiefly directed to sending such natural and\nappropriate messages as should gradually break down the inevitable\nscepticism of his friend.\n\n\nFURTHER PRELIMINARY EXPLANATION\n\nI must assume it known that messages purporting to come from various\ndeceased people have been received through various mediums, and\nthat the Society for Psychical Research has especially studied\nthose coming through Mrs. Piper--a resident in the neighbourhood of\nBoston, U.S.A.--during the past thirty years. We were introduced to\nher by Professor William James. My own experience with this lady\nbegan during her visit to this country in 1889, and was renewed in\n1906. The account has been fully published in the _Proceedings_ of\nthe Society for Psychical Research, vols. vi. and xxiii., and an\nabbreviated version of some of the incidents there recorded can be\nreferred to in my book _The Survival of Man_.\n\nIt will be convenient, however, to explain here that some of the\ncommunicators on the other side, like Mr. Myers and Dr. Richard\nHodgson, both now deceased, have appeared to utilise many mediums;\nand that to allow for possible sophistication by normal mental\nidiosyncrasies, and for any natural warping due to the physiological\nmechanism employed, or to the brain-deposit from which selection\nhas to be made, we write the name of the ostensible communicator in\neach case with a suffix--like Myers_{P}, Myers_{V}, etc.; meaning\nby this kind of designation to signify that part of the Myers-like\nintelligence which operates through Mrs. Piper or through Mrs.\nVerrall, etc., respectively.\n\nWe know that communication must be hampered, and its form largely\ndetermined, by the unconscious but inevitable influence of a\ntransmitting mechanism, whether that be of a merely mechanical or of\na physiological character. Every artist knows that he must adapt the\nexpression of his thought to his material, and that what is possible\nwith one 'medium,' even in the artist's sense of the word, is not\npossible with another.\n\nAnd when the method of communication is purely mental or telepathic,\nwe are assured that the communicator 'on the other side' has to\nselect from and utilise those ideas and channels which represent the\ncustomary mental scope of the medium; though by practised skill and\ningenuity they can be woven into fresh patterns and be made to convey\nto a patient and discriminating interpreter the real intention of the\ncommunicator's thought. In many such telepathic communications the\nphysical form which the emergent message takes is that of automatic\nor semiconscious writing or speech; the manner of the utterance being\nfairly normal, but the substance of it appearing not to emanate\nfrom the writer's or speaker's own mind: though but very seldom is\neither the subject-matter or the language of a kind quite beyond the\nwriter's or speaker's normal capabilities.\n\nIn other cases, when the medium becomes entranced, the demonstration\nof a communicator's separate intelligence may become stronger and\nthe sophistication less. A still further stage is reached when by\nspecial effort what is called _telergy_ is employed, _i.e._ when\nphysiological mechanism is more directly utilised without telepathic\noperation on the mind. And a still further step away from personal\nsophistication, though under extra mechanical difficulties, is\nattainable in _telekinesis_ or what appears to be the direct movement\nof inorganic matter. To this last category--though in its very\nsimplest form--must belong, I suppose, the percussive sounds known as\nraps.\n\nTo understand the intelligent tiltings of a table in contact with\nhuman muscles is a much simpler matter. It is crude and elementary,\nbut in principle it does not appear to differ from automatic writing;\nthough inasmuch as the code and the movements are so simple, it\nappears to be the easiest of all to beginners. It is so simple that\nit has been often employed as a sort of game, and so has fallen into\ndisrepute. But its possibilities are not to be ignored for all that;\nand in so far as it enables a feeling of more direct influence--in\nso far as the communicator feels able himself to control the energy\nnecessary, instead of having to entrust his message to a third\nperson--it is by many communicators preferred. More on this subject\nwill be found in Chapters VIII of Part II and XIV of Part III.\n\nBefore beginning an historical record of the communications and\nmessages received from or about my son since his death, I think it\nwill be well to prelude it by--\n\n(i) A message which arrived before the event;\n\n(ii) A selection of subsequent communications bearing on and\nsupplementing this message;\n\n(iii) One of the evidential episodes, selected from subsequent\ncommunications, which turned out to be exactly verifiable.\n\nA few further details about these things, and another series of\nmessages of evidential importance, will be found in that Part of the\n_Proceedings_ of the S.P.R. which is to be published about October\n1916.\n\nIf the full discussion allowed to these selected portions appears\nrather complicated, an unstudious reader may skip the next three\nchapters, on a first reading, and may learn about the simpler facts\nin their evolutionary or historical order.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nTHE 'FAUNUS' MESSAGE\n\n\n_Preliminary Facts_\n\nRaymond joined the Army in September 1914; trained near Liverpool\nand Edinburgh with the South Lancashires, and in March 1915 was sent\nto the trenches in Flanders. In the middle of July 1915 he had a few\ndays' leave at home, and on the 20th returned to the Front.\n\n\nINITIAL 'PIPER' MESSAGE\n\nThe first intimation that I had that anything might be going wrong,\nwas a message from Myers through Mrs. Piper in America; communicated\napparently by \"Richard Hodgson\" at a time when a Miss Robbins was\nhaving a sitting at Mrs. Piper's house, Greenfield, New Hampshire,\non 8 August 1915, and sent me by Miss Alta Piper (A. L. P.) together\nwith the original script. Here follows the extract, which at a\ncertain stage in Miss Robbins's sitting, after having dealt with\nmatters of personal significance to her, none of which had anything\nwhatever to do with me, began abruptly thus:--\n\nR. H.--Now Lodge, while we are not here as of old, _i.e._\n not quite, we are here enough to take and give messages.\n\n Myers says you take the part of the poet, and he will act\n as Faunus. FAUNUS.\n\nMISS R.--Faunus?\n\nR. H.--Yes. Myers. _Protect._ He will understand.\n\n (Evidently referring to Lodge.--A. L. P.)\n\n What have you to say, Lodge? Good work. Ask Verrall, she\n will also understand. Arthur says so. [This means Dr.\n\n Arthur W. Verrall (deceased).--O. J. L.]\n\nMISS R.--Do you mean Arthur Tennyson?\n\n [This absurd confusion, stimulated by the word 'poet,' was evidently\n the result of a long strain at reading barely legible trance-writing\n for more than an hour, and was recognised immediately afterwards\n with dismayed amusement by the sitter. It is only of interest as\n showing how completely unknown to anyone present was the reference\n intended by the communicator.--O. J. L.]\n\nR. H.--_No. Myers_ knows. So does ----. You got mixed (to\n Miss R.), but Myers is straight about Poet and Faunus.\n\n * * * * *\n\nI venture to say that to non-classical people the above message\nconveys nothing. It did not convey anything to me, beyond the\nassurance, based on past experience, that it certainly meant\nsomething definite, that its meaning was probably embedded in a\nclassical quotation, and that a scholar like Mrs. Verrall would be\nable to interpret it, even if only the bare skeleton of the message\nwere given without any details as to source.\n\n\nLETTER FROM MRS. VERRALL\n\nIn order to interpret this message, therefore, I wrote to Mrs.\nVerrall as instructed, asking her: \"Does _The Poet and Faunus_ mean\nanything to you? Did one 'protect' the other?\" She replied at once (8\nSeptember 1915) referring me to Horace, _Carm_. II. xvii. 27-30, and\nsaying:--\n\n \"The reference is to Horace's account of his narrow\n escape from death, from a falling tree, which he ascribes\n to the intervention of Faunus. Cf. Hor. _Odes_, II.\n xiii.; II. xvii. 27; III. iv. 27; III. viii. 8, for\n references to the subject. The allusion to Faunus is in\n Ode II. xvii. 27-30:--\n\n 'Me truncus illapsus cerebro Sustulerat, nisi _Faunus_\n ictum Dextra levasset, Mercurialium _Custos_ virorum.'\n\n \"'Faunus, the guardian of poets' ('poets' being the usual\n interpretation of 'Mercury's men').\n\n \"The passage is a very well-known one to all readers\n of Horace, and is perhaps specially familiar from\n its containing, in the sentence quoted, an unusual\n grammatical construction. It is likely to occur in a\n detailed work on Latin Grammar.\n\n \"The passage has no special associations for me other\n than as I have described, though it has some interest\n as forming part of a chronological sequence among the\n _Odes_, not generally admitted by commentators, but\n accepted by me.\n\n \"The words quoted are, of course, strictly applicable to\n the Horatian passage, which they instantly recalled to me.\n\n (Signed) M. DE G. VERRALL\"\n\n * * * * *\n\nI perceived therefore, from this manifestly correct interpretation\nof the 'Myers' message to me, that the meaning was that some blow\nwas going to fall, or was likely to fall, though I didn't know of\nwhat kind, and that Myers would intervene, apparently to protect\nme from it. So far as I can recollect my comparatively trivial\nthoughts on the subject, I believe that I had some vague idea that\nthe catastrophe intended was perhaps of a financial rather than of a\npersonal kind.\n\nThe above message reached me near the beginning of September in\nScotland. Raymond was killed near Ypres on 14 September 1915, and\nwe got the news by telegram from the War Office on 17 September.\nA fallen or falling tree is a frequently used symbol for death;\nperhaps through misinterpretation of _Eccl._ xi, 3. To several other\nclassical scholars I have since put the question I addressed to Mrs.\nVerrall, and they all referred me to Horace, _Carm._ II. xvii. as the\nunmistakable reference.\n\n\n_Mr. Bayfield's Criticism_\n\nSoon after the event, I informed the Rev. M. A. Bayfield,\nex-headmaster of Eastbourne College, fully of the facts, as an\ninteresting S.P.R. incident (saying at the same time that Myers had\nnot been able to 'ward off' the blow); and he was good enough to send\nme a careful note in reply:--\n\n \"Horace does not, in any reference to his escape, say\n clearly whether the tree struck him, but I have always\n thought it did. He says Faunus lightened the blow; he\n does not say 'turned it aside.' As bearing on your\n terrible loss, the meaning seems to be that the blow\n would fall but would not crush; it would be 'lightened'\n by the assurance, conveyed afresh to you by a special\n message from the still living Myers, that your boy still\n lives.\n\n \"I shall be interested to know what you think of this\n interpretation. The 'protect' I take to mean protect\n from being overwhelmed by the blow, from losing faith\n and hope, as we are all in danger of doing when smitten\n by some crushing personal calamity. Many a man when so\n smitten has, like Merlin, lain\n\n 'as dead, And lost to life and use and name and fame.'\n\nThat seems to me to give a sufficiently precise application to the\nword (on which Myers apparently insists) and to the whole reference\nto Horace.\"\n\n * * * * *\n\nIn a postscript he adds the following:--\n\n \"In _Carm._ iii. 8, Horace describes himself as _prope\n funeratus arboris ictu_, 'wellnigh killed by a blow from\n a tree.' An artist in expression, such as he was, would\n not have mentioned any 'blow' if there had been none; he\n would have said 'well nigh killed by a falling tree'--or\n the like. It is to be noted that in both passages he uses\n the word _ictus_. And in ii. 13. 11 (the whole ode is\n addressed to the tree) he says the man must have been a\n fellow steeped in every wickedness 'who planted thee an\n accursed lump of wood, a thing meant to fall (this is the\n delicate meaning of _caducum_--not merely \"falling\") on\n thine undeserving master's head.' Here again the language\n implies that he was struck, and struck on the head.\n\n \"Indeed, the escape must have been a narrow one, and it\n is to me impossible to believe that Horace would have\n been so deeply impressed by the accident if he had not\n actually been struck. He refers to it four times:--\n\n _Carm._ ii. 13.--(Ode addressed to the tree--forty lines\n long.)\n\n ii. 17. 27.\n\n iii. 4. 27.--(Here he puts the risk he ran on a parallel\n with that of the rout at Philippi, from which he escaped.)\n\n iii. 8. 8.\n\n \"I insist on all this as strengthening my interpretation,\n and also as strengthening the assignment of the script\n to Myers, who would of course be fully alive to all\n the points to be found in his reference to Faunus and\n Horace--and, as I have no doubt, believed that Horace did\n not escape the actual blow, and that it was a severe one.\"\n\n\nNOTE BY O. J. L.\n\nSince some of the translators, especially verse translators, of\nHorace convey the idea of turning aside or warding off the blow, it\nmay be well to emphasise the fact that most of the scholars consulted\ngave \"lightened\" or \"weakened\" as the translation. And Professor\nStrong says--\"no doubt at all that 'levasset' means 'weakened' the\nblow; the bough fell and struck the Poet, but lightly, through the\naction of Faunus. 'Levo' in this sense is quite common and classical.\"\n\nBryce's prose translation (Bohn) is quite clear--\"a tree-stem falling\non my head had surely been my death, had not good Faunus eased the\nblow....\" And although Conington's translation has \"check'd the blow\nin mid descent,\" he really means the same thing, because it is the\nslaying, not the wounding or striking of the Poet that is prevented:--\n\n \"Me the curst trunk, that smote my skull,\n Had slain; but Faunus, strong to shield\n The friends of Mercury, check'd the blow\n In mid descent.\"\n\n\nADDITIONAL PIPER SCRIPT\n\nMr. Bayfield also calls my attention to another portion of Piper\nScript--in this case not a trance or semi-trance sitting, but\nordinary automatic writing--dated 5 August, which reached me\nsimultaneously with the one already quoted from, at the beginning of\nSeptember, and which he says seems intended to prepare me for some\npersonal trouble:--\n\n \"Yes. For the moment, Lodge, have faith and wisdom [?\n confidence] in all that is highest and best. Have you all\n not been profoundly guided and cared for? Can you answer,\n 'No'? It is by your faith that all is well and has been.\"\n\nI remember being a little struck by the wording in the above script,\nurging me to admit that we--presumably the family--had \"been\nprofoundly guided and cared for,\" and \"that all is well and has\nbeen\"; because it seemed to indicate that something was not going to\nbe quite so well. But it was too indefinite to lead me to make any\ncareful record of it, or to send it as a prediction to anybody for\nfiling; and it would no doubt have evaporated from my mind except\nfor the 'Faunus' warning, given three days later, though received at\nthe same time, which seemed to me clearly intended as a prediction,\nwhether it happened to come off or not.\n\n * * * * *\n\nThe two Piper communications, of which parts have now been quoted,\nreached me at Gullane, East Lothian, where my wife (M. F. A. L.) and\nI were staying for a few weeks. They arrived early in September 1915,\nand as soon as I had heard from Mrs. Verrall I wrote to Miss Piper to\nacknowledge them, as follows:--\n\n \"_The Linga Private Hotel, Gullane, East Lothian, 12\n September 1915_\n\n \"MY DEAR ALTA,--The reference to the Poet and Faunus\n in your mother's last script is quite intelligible,\n and a good classical allusion. You might tell the\n 'communicator' some time if there is opportunity.\n\n \"I feel sure that it must convey nothing to you and\n yours. That is quite as it should be, as you know, for\n evidential reasons.\"\n\nThis was written two days before Raymond's death, and five days\nbefore we heard of it. The Pipers' ignorance of any meaning in the\nPoet and Faunus allusion was subsequently confirmed.\n\nIt so happens that this letter was returned to me, for some unknown\nreason, through the Dead Letter Office, reaching me on 14 November\n1915, and being then sent forward by me again.[7]\n\n [Footnote 7: Further Piper and other communications,\n obscurely relevant to this subject, will be found in a\n Paper which will appear in the S.P.R. _Proceedings_ for\n the autumn of 1916.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nSEQUEL TO THE 'FAUNUS' MESSAGE\n\n\nIt now remains to indicate how far Myers carried out his implied\npromise, and what steps he took, or has been represented as having\ntaken, to lighten the blow--which it is permissible to say was a\nterribly severe one.\n\nFor such evidence I must quote from the record of sittings held here\nin England with mediums previously unknown, and by sitters who gave\nno sort of clue as to identity. (See the historical record, beginning\nat Chapter V.)\n\nIt may be objected that my own general appearance is known or might\nbe guessed. But that does not apply to members of my family, who\nwent quite anonymously to private sittings kindly arranged for by\na friend in London (Mrs. Kennedy, wife of Dr. Kennedy), who was no\nrelation whatever, but whose own personal experience caused her to\nbe sympathetic and helpful, and who is both keen and critical about\nevidential considerations.\n\nI may state, for what it is worth, that as a matter of fact\nnormal clues to identity are disliked, and, in so far as they are\ngratuitous, are even resented, by a good medium; for they are no\nmanner of use, and yet subsequently they appear to spoil evidence. It\nis practically impossible for mediums to hunt up and become normally\nacquainted with the family history of their numerous sitters, and\nthose who know them are well aware that they do nothing of the sort,\nbut in making arrangements for a sitting it is not easy, unless\nspecial precautions are taken, to avoid giving a name and an address,\nand thereby appearing to give facilities for fraud.\n\nIn our case, and in that of our immediate friends, these precautions\nhave been taken--sometimes in a rather elaborate manner.\n\nThe first sitting that was held after Raymond's death by any member\nof the family was held not explicitly for the purpose of getting\ninto communication with him--still less with any remotest notion of\nentering into communication with Mr. Myers--but mainly because a\nFrench widow lady, who had been kind to our daughters during winters\nin Paris, was staying with my wife at Edgbaston--her first real\nvisit to England--and was in great distress at the loss of both her\nbeloved sons in the war, within a week of each other, so that she\nwas left desolate. To comfort her my wife took her up to London to\ncall on Mrs. Kennedy, and to get a sitting arranged for with a medium\nwhom that lady knew and recommended. Two anonymous interviews were\nduly held, and incidentally I may say that the two sons of Madame\ncommunicated, on both occasions, though with difficulty; that one of\nthem gave his name completely, the other approximately; and that the\nmother, who was new to the whole subject, was partially consoled.[8]\nRaymond, however, was represented as coming with them and helping\nthem, and as sending some messages on his own account. I shall here\nonly quote those messages which bear upon the subject of _Myers_ and\nhave any possible connexion with the 'Faunus' message.\n\n(For an elementary explanation about 'sittings' in general, see\nChapter I.)\n\n\nEXTRACTS RELATING TO 'MYERS' FROM EARLY ANONYMOUS SITTINGS\n\nWe heard first of Raymond's death on 17 September 1915, and on 25\nSeptember his mother (M. F. A. L.), who was having an anonymous\nsitting for a friend with Mrs. Leonard, then a complete stranger, had\nthe following spelt out by tilts of a table, as purporting to come\nfrom Raymond:--\n\n TELL FATHER I HAVE MET SOME FRIENDS OF HIS.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Can you give any name?\n\n YES. MYERS.\n\n(That was all on that subject on that occasion.)\n\n * * * * *\n\nOn the 27th of September 1915, I myself went to London and had my\nfirst sitting, between noon and one o'clock, with Mrs. Leonard. I\nwent to her house or flat alone, as a complete stranger, for whom an\nappointment had been made through Mrs. Kennedy. Before we began, Mrs.\nLeonard informed me that her 'guide' or 'control' was a young girl\nnamed \"Feda.\"\n\nIn a short time after the medium had gone into trance, a youth was\ndescribed in terms which distinctly suggested Raymond, and \"Feda\"\nbrought messages. I extract the following:--\n\n\n_From First Anonymous Sitting of O. J. L. with Mrs. Leonard, 27\nSeptember 1915_\n\n (Mrs. Leonard's control, Feda, supposed to be speaking\n throughout.)\n\n He finds it difficult, he says, but he has got so many\n kind friends helping him. He didn't think when he waked up\n first that he was going to be happy, but now he is, and he\n says he is going to be happier. He knows that as soon as\n he is a little more ready he has got a great deal of work\n to do. \"I almost wonder,\" he says, \"shall I be fit and\n able to do it. They tell me I shall.\"\n\n \"I have instructors and teachers with me.\" Now he is\n trying to build up a letter of some one; M. he shows me.\n\n(A short time later, he said:--)\n\n \"People think I say I am happy in order to make them\n happier, but I don't.[9] I have met hundreds of friends.\n I don't know them all. I have met many who tell me that,\n a little later, they will explain why they are helping\n me. I feel I have got two fathers now. I don't feel I\n have lost one and got another; I have got both.\n\n I have got my old one, and another too--a _pro tem_.\n father.\"\n\n(Here Feda ejaculated \"What's that? Is that right?\" O. J.\nL. replied 'Yes.')\n\n There is a weight gone off his mind the last day or two;\n he feels brighter and lighter and happier altogether, the\n last few days. There was confusion at first. He could not\n get his bearings, didn't seem to know where he was. \"But\n I was not very long,\" he says, \"and I think I was very\n fortunate; it was not very long before it was explained\n to me where I was.\"\n\n * * * * *\n\nBut the most remarkable indirect allusion, or apparent\nallusion, to something like the 'Faunus' message, came at\nthe end of the sitting, after \"Raymond\" had gone, and just\nbefore Mrs. Leonard came out of trance:--\n\n \"He is gone, but Feda sees something which is only\n symbolic; she sees a cross falling back on to you; very\n dark, falling on to you; dark and heavy looking; and as\n it falls it gets twisted round and the other side seems\n all light, and the light is shining all over you. It is\n a sort of pale blue, but it is white and quite light\n when it touches you. Yes, that is what Feda sees. The\n cross looked dark, and then it suddenly twisted round\n and became a beautiful light. The cross is a means of\n shedding real light. It is going to help a great deal.\n\n \"Did you know you had a coloured Guide?... He says your\n son is the cross of light; he is the cross of light, and\n he is going to be a light that will help you; he is going\n to help too to prove to the world the Truth. That is\n why they built up the dark cross that turned to bright.\n You know; but others, they do so want to know. Feda is\n loosing hold; good-bye.\"\n\n[_This ends the O. J. L. first Leonard sitting of 27 September 1915._]\n\nOn the afternoon of the same day, 27 September 1915, that I had this\nfirst sitting with Mrs. Leonard, Lady Lodge had her first sitting, as\na complete stranger, with Mr. A. Vout Peters, who had been invited\nfor the purpose--without any name being given--to Mrs. Kennedy's\nhouse at 3.30 p.m.\n\nHere again, Raymond was described well enough, fairly early in the\nsitting, and several identifying messages were given. Presently\n'Moonstone' (Peters's chief control) asked, \"Was he not associated\nwith Chemistry?\" As a matter of fact, my laboratory has been rather\nspecially chemical of late; and the record continues, copied with\nsubsequent annotations in square brackets as it stands:--\n\n\n_From First Anonymous Sitting of M. F. A. L. with Peters, 27 September\n1915_\n\n Was he not associated with chemistry? If not, some one\n associated with him was, because I see all the things in a\n chemical laboratory.\n\n That chemistry thing takes me away from him to a man in\n the flesh [O. J. L. presumably]; and, connected with him,\n a man, a writer of poetry, on our side, closely connected\n with spiritualism. He was very clever--he too passed away\n out of England.\n\n\n[This is clearly meant for Myers, who died in Rome.]\n\n He has communicated several times. This gentleman who\n wrote poetry--I see the letter M--he is helping your son\n to communicate.\n\n[His presence and help were also independently mentioned\nby Mrs. Leonard.]\n\n He is built up in the chemical conditions.\n\n If your son didn't know this man, he knew of him.\n\n[Yes, he could hardly have known him, as he was only about twelve at\nthe time of Myers's death.]\n\n At the back of the gentleman beginning with M, and who\n wrote poetry, is a whole group of people. [The S.P.R.\n group, doubtless.] They are very interested. And don't be\n surprised if you get messages from them, even if you don't\n know them.\n\n(Then 'Moonstone' stopped, and said:--)\n\n This is so important that is going to be said now, that\n I want to go slowly, for you to write clearly every word\n (dictating carefully):--\n\n \"NOT ONLY IS THE PARTITION SO THIN THAT YOU CAN HEAR THE\n OPERATORS ON THE OTHER SIDE, BUT A BIG HOLE HAS BEEN\n MADE.\"\n\n This message is for the gentleman associated with the\n chemical laboratory.\n\n[Considering that my wife was quite unknown to the medium,\nthis is a remarkably evidential and identifying message.\nCf. passage in my book, _Survival of Man_, containing this\ntunnel-boring simile; page 341 of American edition (Moffat\nYard & Co.).--O. J. L.]\n\n'Moonstone' continued:--\n\n The boy--I call them all boys because I was over a hundred\n when I lived here and they are all boys to me--he says, he\n is here, but he says:--\n\n \"Hitherto it has been a thing of the head, now I am come\n over it is a thing of the heart.\"\n\n What is more (here Peters jumped up in his chair,\n vigorously, snapped his fingers excitedly, and spoke\n loudly)--\n\n \"Good God! how father will be able to speak out! much\n firmer than he has ever done, because it will touch our\n hearts.\"\n\n(_Here ends extract from Peters sitting of 27 September 1915. A\n completer record will be found in Chapter VII._)\n\nAt a Leonard Table Sitting on 12 October 1915--by which time our\nidentity was known to Mrs. Leonard--I told 'Myers' that I understood\nhis Piper message about Faunus and the Poet; and the only point\nof interest about the reply or comment is that the two following\nsentences were spelt out, purporting to come either indirectly or\ndirectly from 'Myers':--\n\n 1. He says it meant your son's tr[ansition].\n\n 2. Your son shall be mine.\n\n * * * * *\n\nThe next 'Myers' reference came on 29 October, when I had a sitting\nwith Peters, unexpectedly and unknown to my family, at his London\nroom (15 Devereux Court, Fleet Street)--a sitting arranged for by Mr.\nJ. A. Hill for an anonymous friend:--\n\nPeters went into trance, and after some other communications,\ngave messages from a youth who was recognised by the control and\nidentified as my son; and later on Peters's 'control,' whom it is\ncustomary to call 'Moonstone,' spoke thus:--\n\n\n_From Sitting of O. J. L. with Peters on 29 October 1915_\n\n Your common-sense method of approaching the subject in the\n family has been the means of helping him to come back as\n he has been able to do; and had he not known what you had\n told him, then it would have been far more difficult for\n him to come back. He is very deliberate in what he says.\n He is a young man that knows what he is saying. Do you\n know F W M?\n\nO. J. L.--Yes, I do.\n\n Because I see those three letters. Now, after them, do you\n know S T; yes, I get S T, then a dot, and then P? These\n are shown me; I see them in light; your boy shows these\n things to me.\n\nO. J. L.--Yes, I understand. [Meaning that I recognised\n the allusion to F. W. H. Myers's poem _St. Paul_.]\n\n Well, he says to me: \"He has helped me so much, more than\n you think. That is F W M.\"\n\nO. J. L.--Bless him!\n\n No, your boy laughs, he has got an ulterior motive for it;\n don't think it was only for charity's sake, he has got an\n ulterior motive, and thinks that you will be able by the\n strength of your personality to do what you want to do\n now, to ride over the quibbles of the fools, and to make\n the Society, _the_ Society, he says, of some use to the\n world.... Can you understand?\n\nO. J. L.--Yes.\n\n Now he says, \"He helped me because, with me through you,\n he can break away the dam that people have set up. Later\n on, you are going to speak to them. It is already on the\n programme, and you will break down the opposition because\n of me.\" Then he says, \"For God's sake, father, do it.\n Because if you only knew, and could only see what I see:\n hundreds of men and women heart-broken. And if you could\n only see the boys on our side shut out, you would throw\n the whole strength of yourself\n\n into this work. But you can do it.\" He is very earnest.\n Oh, and he wants--No, I must stop him, I must prevent him,\n I don't want him to control the medium.--Don't think me\n unkind, but I must protect my medium; he would not be able\n to do the work he has to do; the medium would be ill from\n it, I must protect him, the emotion would be too great,\n too great for both of you, so I must prevent him from\n controlling.\n\n He understands, but he wants me to tell you this:--\n\n The feeling on going over was one of intense\n disappointment, he had no idea of death. The second too\n was grief. (Pause.)\n\n * * * * *\n\n This is a time when men and women have had the crust\n broken off them--a crust of convention, of ... of\n indifference, has been smashed, and everybody thinks,\n though some selfishly.\n\n Now, returning to him, how patient he is! He was not\n always so patient. After the grief there was a glimmering\n of hope, because he realised that he could get back to\n you; and because his grandmother came to him. Then his\n brother was introduced to him. Then, he says, other\n people. Myerse--\"Myerse,\" it sounds like--do you know what\n he means?--came to him, and then he knew he could get\n back. He knew.\n\n Now he wants me to tell you this: That from his death,\n which is only one of thousands, that the work which he (I\n have to translate his ideas into words, I don't get them\n verbatum [_sic_])--the work which he volunteered to be\n able to succeed in,--no, that's not it. The work which he\n enlisted for, that is what he says, only he was only a\n unit and seemingly lost--yet the very fact of his death\n will be the means of pushing it on. Now I have got it. By\n his passing away, many hundreds will be benefited.\n\n(_End of extract from Peters sitting of 29 October 1915._)\n\n (A still fuller account of the whole 'Faunus' episode, and a further\n sequel to it of a classical kind, called the \"Horace O. L.\" message,\n will be found in the S.P.R. _Proceedings_ for the autumn of 1916.)\n\n * * * * *\n\nIt will be understood, I hope, that the above extracts from sittings\nhave been reproduced here in order to show that, if we take the\nincidents on their face value, Myers had redeemed his 'Faunus'\npromise, and had lightened the blow by looking after and helping\nmy son 'on the other side.' I now propose to make some further\nextracts--of a more evidential character--tending to establish\nthe survival of my son's own personality and memory. There have\nbeen several of these evidential episodes, making strongly in this\ndirection; but I select, for description here, one relating to a\ncertain group photograph, of which we were told through two mediums,\nbut of which we normally knew nothing till afterwards.\n\n [Footnote 8: I realise now, though the relevance has\n only just struck me, that from the point of view of an\n outside critic, pardonably suspicious of bad faith, this\n episode of the bereaved French lady--an obviously complete\n stranger to Mrs. Kennedy as well as to the medium--has an\n evidential and therefore helpful side.]\n\n [Footnote 9: This is reminiscent of a sentence in one of\n his letters from the Front: \"As cheerful and well and\n happy as ever. Don't think I am having a rotten time--I am\n not.\" Dated 11 May 1915 (really 12).]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nTHE GROUP PHOTOGRAPH\n\n\nI now come to a peculiarly good piece of evidence arising out of\nthe sittings which from time to time we held in the autumn of 1915,\nnamely, the mention and description of a group photograph taken near\nthe Front, of the existence of which we were in complete ignorance,\nbut which was afterwards verified in a satisfactory and complete\nmanner. It is necessary to report the circumstances rather fully:--\n\nRaymond was killed on 14 September 1915.\n\nThe first reference to a photograph taken of him with other men was\nmade by Peters at M. F. A. L.'s first sitting with Peters, in Mrs.\nKennedy's house, on 27 September 1915, thus:--\n\n_Extract from M. F. A. L.'s anonymous Sitting with Peters on 27\nSeptember 1915_\n\n \"You have several portraits of this boy. Before he went\n away you had got a good portrait of him--two--no, three.\n Two where he is alone and one where he is in a group of\n other men. He is particular that I should tell you of\n this. In one you see his walking-stick\"--('Moonstone' here\n put an imaginary stick under his arm).\n\nWe had single photographs of him of course, and in uniform, but we\ndid not know of the existence of a photograph in which he was one of\na group; and M. F. A. L. was sceptical about it, thinking that it\nmight well be only a shot or guess on the part of Peters at something\nprobable. But Mrs. Kennedy (as Note-taker) had written down most of\nwhat was said, and this record was kept, copied, and sent to Mr.\nHill in the ordinary course at the time.\n\nI was myself, moreover, rather impressed with the emphasis laid\non it--\"he is particular that I should tell you of this\"--and\naccordingly made a half-hearted inquiry or two; but nothing more was\nheard on the subject for two months. On Monday, 29 November, however,\na letter came from Mrs. Cheves, a stranger to us, mother of Captain\nCheves of the R.A.M.C., who had known Raymond and had reported to us\nconcerning the nature of his wound, and who is still doing good work\nat the Front.\n\nMrs. Cheves' welcome letter ran as follows:--\n\n \"_28 November 1915_\n\n \"DEAR LADY LODGE,--My son, who is M.O. to the 2nd South\n Lancs, has sent us a group of officers taken in August,\n and I wondered whether you knew of this photo and had had\n a copy. If not may I send you one, as we have half a dozen\n and also a key? I hope you will forgive my writing to ask\n this, but I have often thought of you and felt so much for\n you in yr. great sorrow.\n\n --Sincerely yours, B. P. CHEVES\"\n\nM. F. A. L. promptly wrote, thanking her, and asking for it; but\nfortunately it did not come at once.\n\nBefore it came, I (O. J. L.) was having a sitting with Mrs. Leonard\nalone at her house on 3 December; and on this occasion, among other\nquestions, I asked carefully concerning the photograph, wishing to\nget more detailed information about it, before it was seen. It should\nbe understood that the subject was not introduced by Mrs. Leonard or\nher control. The previous mention of a photograph had been through\nPeters. It was I that introduced the subject through Mrs. Leonard,\nand asked a question; and the answers were thus reported and recorded\nat the time--the typing out of the sitting being all done before the\nphotograph arrived:--\n\n_Extract from the Record of O. J. L.'s Sitting with Mrs. Leonard, 3\nDecember 1915_\n\n (Mrs. Leonard's child-control, Feda, supposed to be\n speaking, and often speaking of herself in the third\n person.)\n\nFEDA.--Now ask him some more.\n\nO. J. L.--Well, he said something about having a photograph taken\nwith some other men. We haven't seen that photograph yet. Does he\nwant to say anything more about it? He spoke about a photograph.\n\n Yes, but he thinks it wasn't here. He looks at Feda, and\n he says, it wasn't to you, Feda.\n\nO. J. L.--No, he's quite right. It wasn't. Can he say where he spoke\nof it?\n\n He says it wasn't through the table.\n\nO. J. L.--No, it wasn't.\n\n It wasn't here at all. He didn't know the person that he\n said it through. The conditions were strange there--a\n strange house. [Quite true, it was said through Peters in\n Mrs. Kennedy's house during an anonymous sitting on 27\n September.]\n\nO. J. L.--Do you recollect the photograph at all?\n\n He thinks there were several others taken with him, not\n one or two, but several.\n\nO. J. L.--Were they friends of yours?\n\n Some of them, he says. He didn't know them all, not very\n well. But he knew some; he heard of some; they were not\n all friends.\n\nO. J. L.--Does he remember how he looked in the photograph?\n\n No, he doesn't remember how he looked.\n\nO. J. L.--No, no, I mean was he standing up?\n\n No, he doesn't seem to think so. Some were raised up\n round; he was sitting down, and some were raised up at the\n back of him. Some were standing, and some were sitting, he\n thinks.\n\nO. J. L.--Were they soldiers?\n\n He says yes--a mixed lot. Somebody called C was on it with\n him; and somebody called R--not his own name, but another\n R. K, K, K--he says something about K.\n\n He also mentions a man beginning with B--(indistinct\n muttering something like Berry, Burney--then clearly) but\n put down B.\n\nO. J. L.--I am asking about the photograph because we haven't seen\nit yet. Somebody is going to send it to us. We have heard that it\nexists, and that's all.\n\n [While this is being written out, the above remains true.\n The photograph has not yet come.]\n\n He has the impression of about a dozen on it. A dozen, he\n says, if not more. Feda thinks it must be a big photograph.\n\n No, he doesn't think so, he says they were grouped close\n together.\n\nO. J. L.--Did he have a stick?\n\n He doesn't remember that. He remembers that somebody\n wanted to lean on him, but he is not sure if he was taken\n with some one leaning on him. But somebody wanted to lean\n on him he remembers. The last what he gave you, what were\n a B, will be rather prominent in that photograph. It\n wasn't taken in a photographer's place.\n\nO. J. L.--Was it out of doors?\n\n Yes, practically.\n\n FEDA (_sotto voce_).--What you mean, 'yes practically';\n must have been out of doors or not out of doors. You mean\n 'yes,' don't you?\n\n Feda thinks he means 'yes,' because he says 'practically.'\n\nO. J. L.--It may have been a shelter.\n\n It might have been. Try to show Feda.\n\n At the back he shows me lines going down. It looks like a\n black background, with lines at the back of them. (Feda\n here kept drawing vertical lines in the air.)\n\n * * * * *\n\nThere was, for some reason, considerable delay in the arrival of\nthe photograph; it did not arrive till the afternoon of December 7.\nMeanwhile, on December 6, Lady Lodge had been looking up Raymond's\nDiary, which had been returned from the Front with his kit, and found\nan entry:--\n\n \"_24 August._--Photo taken.\"\n\n(A statement will follow to this effect.)\n\nNow Raymond had only had one \"leave\" home since going to the Front,\nand this leave was from 16 July to 20 July. The photograph had not\nbeen taken then, and so he could not have told us anything about it.\nThe exposure was only made twenty-one days before his death, and some\ndays may have elapsed before he saw a print, if he ever saw one. He\ncertainly never mentioned it in his letters. We were therefore in\ncomplete ignorance concerning it; and only recently had we normally\nbecome aware of its existence.\n\nOn the morning of 7 December another note came from Mrs. Cheves, in\nanswer to a question about the delay; and this letter said that the\nphotograph was being sent off. Accordingly I (O. J. L.), thinking\nthat the photograph might be coming at once, dictated a letter to go\nto Mr. Hill, recording roughly my impression of what the photograph\nwould be like, on the strength of the communication received by me\nfrom 'Raymond' through Mrs. Leonard; and this was posted by A. E.\nBriscoe about lunch-time on the same day. (See statement by Mr.\nBriscoe at the end.) My statement to Mr. Hill ran thus:--\n\n\n_Copy of what was written by O. J. L. to Mr. Hill about the\nPhotograph on the morning of Tuesday, 7 December 1915_\n\n \"Concerning that photograph which Raymond mentioned\n through Peters [saying this: 'One where he is in a group\n of other men. He is particular that I should tell you\n of this. In one you see his walking-stick,'],[10] he\n has said some more about it through Mrs. Leonard. But\n he is doubtful about the stick. What he says is that\n there is a considerable number of men in the photograph;\n that the front row is sitting, and that there is a back\n row, or some of the people grouped and set up at the\n back; also that there are a dozen or more people in the\n photograph, and that some of them he hardly knew; that\n a B is prominent in the photograph, and that there is\n also a C; that he himself is sitting down, and that there\n are people behind him, one of whom either leant on his\n shoulder, or tried to.\n\n \"The photograph has not come yet, but it may come any day\n now; so I send this off before I get it.\n\n \"The actual record of what was said in the sitting is\n being typed, but the above represents my impression of\n it.\"\n\n * * * * *\n\nThe photograph was delivered at Mariemont between 3 and 4 p.m. on the\nafternoon of 7 December. It was a wet afternoon, and the package was\nreceived by Rosalynde, who took the wet wrapper off it. Its size was\n12 by 9 inches, and was an enlargement from a 5 by 7 inch original.\nThe number of people in the photograph is twenty-one, made up as\nfollows:--\n\n Five in the front row squatting on the grass, Raymond\n being one of these; the second from the right.\n\n Seven in the second row seated upon chairs.\n\n Nine in the back row standing up against the outside of\n a temporary wooden structure such as might be a hospital\n shed or something of that kind.\n\nOn examining the photograph, we found that every peculiarity\nmentioned by Raymond, unaided by the medium, was strikingly correct.\nThe walking-stick is there (but Peters had put a stick under his arm,\nwhich is not correct), and in connexion with the background Feda had\nindicated vertical lines, not only by gesture but by saying \"lines\ngoing down,\" as well as \"a black background with lines at the back of\nthem.\" There are six conspicuous nearly vertical lines on the roof of\nthe shed, but the horizontal lines in the background generally are\nequally conspicuous.\n\nBy \"a mixed lot,\" we understood members of different Companies--not\nall belonging to Raymond's Company, but a collection from several.\nThis must be correct, as they are too numerous for one Company. It\nis probable that they all belong to one Regiment, except perhaps one\nwhose cap seems to have a thistle badge instead of three feathers.\n\nAs to \"prominence,\" I have asked several people which member of\nthe group seemed to them the most prominent; and except as regards\ncentral position, a well-lighted standing figure on the right has\nusually been pointed to as most prominent. This one is \"B,\" as\nstated, namely, Captain S. T. Boast.\n\nSome of the officers must have been barely known to Raymond, while\nsome were his friends. Officers whose names begin with B, with C, and\nwith R were among them; though not any name beginning with K. The\nnearest approach to a K-sound in the group is one beginning with a\nhard C.\n\nSome of the group are sitting, while others are standing behind.\nRaymond is one of those sitting on the ground in front, and his\nwalking-stick or regulation cane is lying across his feet.\n\n[Illustration: GROUP OF OFFICERS, AS SENT US BY MRS. CHEVES ON 7\nDECEMBER, 1915, SHOWING AN ARM RESTING ON RAYMOND'S SHOULDER]\n\nThe background is dark, and is conspicuously lined.\n\nIt is out of doors, close in front of a shed or military hut, pretty\nmuch as suggested to me by the statements made in the 'Leonard'\nsitting--what I called a \"shelter.\"\n\nBut by far the most striking piece of evidence is the fact that\nsome one sitting behind Raymond is leaning or resting a hand on his\nshoulder. The photograph fortunately shows the actual occurrence,\nand almost indicates that Raymond was rather annoyed with it; for\nhis face is a little screwed up, and his head has been slightly bent\nto one side out of the way of the man's arm. It is the only case in\nthe photograph where one man is leaning or resting his hand on the\nshoulder of another, and I judge that it is a thing not unlikely to\nbe remembered by the one to whom it occurred.\n\n\nCONFIRMATORY STATEMENTS\n\nSTATEMENT BY RAYMOND'S MOTHER\n\n Four days ago (6 December), I was looking through my son\n Raymond's Diary which had been returned with his kit from\n the Front. (The edges are soaked, and some of the leaves\n stuck together, with his blood.) I was struck by finding\n an entry \"Photo taken\" under the date 24 August, and I\n entered the fact in my own Diary at once, thus:--\n\n \"_6 December._--Read Raymond's Diary for first time, saw\n record of 'photo taken' 24 August.\"\n\n (Signed) MARY F. A. LODGE\n\n _10 December 1915_\n\n\nSTATEMENT BY A. E. BRISCOE\n\n The dictated letter to Mr. Hill, recording roughly Sir\n Oliver's impression of what the photograph would be\n like, was written out by me on the morning of Tuesday,\n 7 December, at Mariemont; it was signed by Sir Oliver\n at about noon, and shortly afterwards I started for the\n University, taking that and other letters with me for\n posting in town. I went straight to the University, and\n at lunch-time (about 1.30) posted the packet to Mr. Hill\n at the General Post Office.\n\n (In the packet, I remember, there was also a letter on\n another subject, and a printed document from Mr. Gow, the\n Editor of _Light_.)\n\n (Signed) A. E. BRISCOE,\n\n _Secretary to Sir Oliver Lodge_\n\n _8 December 1915_\n\n\nSTATEMENT BY ROSALYNDE\n\n I was sitting in the library at Mariemont about 3.45 on\n Tuesday afternoon, 7 December 1915, when Harrison came in\n with a flat cardboard parcel addressed to Mother. Mother\n was resting; and as the paper, wrapping up what I took to\n be the photograph, was wet with the rain, I undid it and\n left the photograph in tissue paper on a table, having\n just glanced at it to see if it was the one we'd been\n waiting for.\n\n No one saw it or was shown it till after tea, when\n I showed it to Mother. That would be about 6. Mrs.\n Thompson, Lorna, and Barbara now also saw it. Honor was\n not at home and did not see it till later.\n\n (Signed) R. V. LODGE\n\n _8 December 1915_\n\n\nNOTE BY O. J. L.\n\nIn answer to an inquiry, Messrs. Gale & Polden, of Aldershot\nand London, the firm whose name was printed at the foot of the\nphotograph, informed me that it was \"from a negative of a group of\nOfficers sent to us by Captain Boast of the 2nd South Lancashire\nRegiment\"; and having kindly looked up the date, they further tell me\nthat they received the negative from Captain Boast on 15 October 1915.\n\nIt will be remembered that information about the existence of\nthe photograph came through Peters on 27 September--more than a\nfortnight, therefore, before the negative reached England.\n\nThe photograph is only shown here because of its evidential interest.\nConsidered as a likeness of Raymond, it is an exceptionally bad one;\nhe appears shrunk into an uncomfortable position.\n\n\nFURTHER INFORMATION ABOUT THE PHOTOGRAPH\n\n_Extract from a letter by Captain Boast from the Trenches, dated 7\nMay 1916, to Mrs. Case, and lent me to see_\n\n \"Some months ago (last summer) the Officers of our\n Battalion had their photo taken.... You see, the\n photographer who took us was a man who had been shelled\n out of house and home, and as he had no means of doing\n the photos for us, we bought the negatives, and sent them\n along to be finished in England.\"\n\n[Illustration: ANOTHER EDITION OF THE GROUP-PHOTOGRAPH, WITH LEG\nTOUCHING SHOULDER INSTEAD OF HAND]\n\n_A later Letter from Captain Boast_\n\nIn answer to a special inquiry addressed to Captain Boast at the\nFront, he has been good enough to favour me with the following\nletter:--\n\n \"_10 July 1916_\n\n \"DEAR SIR,--Your letter of 4 July has just reached me.\n The proofs of the photographs referred to were received\n by me from the photographer at Reninghelst two or three\n days after being taken. To the best of my belief, your\n son saw the proofs, but I cannot now say positively. I\n obtained particulars of requirements from the officers\n forming the group, but the photographer then found he was\n unable to obtain paper for printing. I therefore bought\n the negatives and sent them home to Gale & Polden. In\n view of the fact that your son did not go back to the\n trenches till 12 September 1915, it is highly probable\n that he saw the proofs, but he certainly did not see the\n negatives.--Yours faithfully,\n\n \"(Signed) SYDNEY T. BOAST\"\n\nIt thus appears that Raymond had probably seen a proof of the\nphotograph, but that there were no copies or prints available.\nConsequently neither we, nor any other people at home, could have\nreceived them; and the negatives were only received in England by\nGale & Polden on 15 October 1915, after Peters had mentioned the\nexistence of the photograph, which he did on 27 September 1915.\n\nI obtained from Messrs. Gale & Polden prints of all the accessible\nphotographs which had been taken at the same time. The size of these\nprints was 5 by 7 inches.\n\nI found that the group had been repeated, with slight variations,\nthree times--the Officers all in the same relative positions, but\nnot in identically the same attitudes. One of the three prints is\nthe same as the one we had seen, with some one's hand resting on\nRaymond's shoulder, and Raymond's head leaning a little on one side,\nas if rather annoyed. In another the hand had been removed, being\nsupported by the owner's stick; and in that one Raymond's head is\nupright. This corresponds to his uncertainty as to whether he was\nactually taken with the man leaning on him or not. In the third,\nhowever, the sitting officer's leg rests against Raymond's shoulder\nas he squats in front, and the slant of the head and slight look of\nannoyance have returned.\n\nThese two additional photographs are here reproduced. Their merit is\nin showing that the leaning on him, mentioned by 'Raymond' through\nFeda, was well marked, and yet that he was quite right in being\nuncertain whether he was actually being leant on while the photograph\nwas being taken. The fact turns out to be that during two exposures\nhe was being leaned on, and during one exposure he was not. It was,\nso to speak, lucky that the edition sent us happened to show in one\nform the actual leaning.\n\nI have since discovered what is apparently the only other photograph\nof Officers in which Raymond occurs, but it is quite a different one,\nand none of the description applies to it. For it is completely in\nthe open air, and Raymond is standing up in the hinder of two rows.\nHe is second from the left, the tall one in the middle is his friend\nLieutenant Case, and standing next him is Mr. Ventris (see p. 279).\nIt is fortunate again that this photograph did not happen to be the\none sent us; for we should have considered the description hopelessly\nwrong.\n\n\nSUMMARY\n\nCONCLUDING NOTE BY O. J. L.\n\nAs to the evidential value of the whole communication, it\nwill be observed that there is something of the nature of\ncross-correspondence, of a simple kind, in the fact that a reference\nto the photograph was made through one medium, and a description\ngiven, in answer to a question, through another independent one.\n\nThe episode is to be published in the _Proceedings_ of the S.P.R. for\n1916, and a few further facts or comments are there added.\n\nThe elimination of ordinary telepathy from the living, except under\nthe far-fetched hypothesis of the unconscious influence of complete\nstrangers, was exceptionally complete; inasmuch as the whole of\nthe information was recorded before any of us had seen the photograph.\n\n[Illustration: GROUP SUBSEQUENTLY OBTAINED, EVIDENTLY TAKEN AT THE\nSAME TIME, BUT PRESSURE ON SHOULDER REMOVED]\n\nEven the establishment of a date in August for the taking of the\nphotograph, as mentioned first in Mrs. Cheves' letter and confirmed\nby finding an entry in Raymond's Diary, is important, because the\nlast time we ever saw Raymond was in July.\n\nTo my mind the whole incident is rather exceptionally good as a piece\nof evidence; and that 'Raymond' expected it to be good evidence\nis plain from Peters's ('Moonstone's') statement, at that first\nreference to a photograph on 27 September, namely, \"He is particular\nthat I should tell you of this.\" (This sentence it probably was\nwhich made me look out for such a photograph, and take pains to get\nrecords soundly made beforehand.) Our complete ignorance, even of\nthe existence of the photograph, in the first place, and secondly\nthe delayed manner in which knowledge of it normally came to us, so\nthat we were able to make provision for getting the supernormally\nacquired details definitely noted beforehand, seem to me to make it\na first-class case. While, as to the amount of coincidence between\nthe description and the actual photograph, that surely is quite\nbeyond chance or guesswork. For not only are many things right, but\npractically nothing is wrong.\n\n\nCALENDAR\n\n _20 July 1915_ Raymond's last visit home.\n\n _24 August 1915_ Photograph taken at the Front, as\n shown by entry in Raymond's\n private Diary, but not mentioned\n by him.\n\n _14 September 1915_ Raymond's death.\n\n _27 September 1915_ Peters' ('Moonstone's') mention of\n the photograph as a message from\n 'Raymond.'\n\n _15 October 1915_ Negative sent with other negatives\n by Capt. Sydney T. Boast, from\n the Front in Flanders, to Messrs.\n Gale & Polden, Aldershot, for\n printing.\n\n _29 November 1915_ Mrs. Cheves wrote spontaneously,\n saying that she had a group-photograph\n of some 2nd South\n Lancashire Officers, which she\n could send if desired.\n\n\n _3 December 1915_ Feda's (Mrs. Leonard's) further description\n of a photograph which\n had been mentioned through another\n medium, in answer to a\n direct question addressed to 'Raymond.'\n\n _6 December 1915_ M. F. A. L. found an entry in Raymond's\n Diary showing that a\n photograph had been taken on\n 24 August.\n\n _Morning of 7 Dec. 1915_ To make sure, O. J. L. wrote to\n J. A. H. his impression of the\n photograph before it came.\n\n _Afternoon of 7 Dec 1915_ Arrival of the photograph.\n\n _Evening of 7 Dec 1915_ The photograph was shown to the\n home members of the family, and\n examined by O. J. L.\n\n [Footnote 10: This bit not written to J. A. H., but is\n copied from Peters's sitting, of which Mr. Hill had seen\n the record.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nBEGINNING OF HISTORICAL RECORD OF SITTINGS\n\n\nAlthough this episode of the photograph is a good and evidential\none, I should be sorry to base an important conclusion on any one\npiece of evidence, however cogent. All proofs are really cumulative;\nand though it is legitimate to emphasise anything like a crucial\ninstance, it always needs supplementing by many others, lest\nthere may have been some oversight. Accordingly, I now proceed to\nquote from sittings held by members of the family after Raymond's\ndeath--laying stress upon those which were arranged for, and held\nthroughout, in an anonymous manner, so that there was not the\nslightest normal clue to identity.\n\nThe first message came to us through a recent friend of ours in\nLondon, Mrs. Kennedy, who herself has the power of automatic writing,\nand who, having lost her specially beloved son Paul, has had her hand\nfrequently controlled by him--usually only so as to give affectionate\nmessages, but sometimes in a moderately evidential way. She had been\nsceptical about the genuineness of this power apparently possessed\nby herself; and it was her painful uncertainty on this point that\nhad brought her into correspondence with me, for she was trying to\ntest her own writing in various ways, as she was so anxious not to\nbe deceived. The first I ever heard of her was the following letter\nwhich came while I was in Australia, and was dealt with by Mr. Hill:--\n\n\nFIRST LETTER FROM MRS. KENNEDY TO O. J. L.\n\n \"_16 August 1914_\n\n \"SIR OLIVER LODGE.\n\n \"DEAR SIR,--Because of your investigations into spirit\n life, I venture to ask your help.\n\n \"My only son died 23 June, eight weeks after a terrible\n accident. On 25 June (without my asking for it or having\n thought of it) I felt obliged to hold a pencil, and I\n received in automatic writing his name and 'yes' and 'no'\n in answer to questions.\n\n \"Since then I have had several pages of writing from him\n every day and sometimes twice daily. I say 'from him';\n the whole torturing question is--is it from him or am I\n self-deceived?\n\n \"My knowledge is infinitesimal. Nineteen years ago a\n sister who had died the year before suddenly used my\n hand, and after that wrote short messages at intervals;\n another sister a year later, and my father one message\n sixteen years ago; but I felt so self-deceived that\n I always pushed it aside, until it came back to me,\n unasked, after my son's passing over.\n\n \"Your knowledge is what I appeal to, and the deep,\n personal respect one has for you and your investigations.\n It is for my son's sake--he is only seventeen--and he\n writes with such intense sadness of my lack of decided\n belief that I venture to beg help of a stranger in a\n matter so sacred to me.\n\n \"Do you ever come to London, and, if so, could you\n possibly allow me to see you for even half an hour? and\n you might judge from the strange and holy revelations\n (I know no other way to express many of the messages\n that are sent) whether they can possibly be only from\n my own subconscious mind.... Pardon this length of\n letter.--Yours faithfully,\n\n \"(Signed)\n\n KATHERINE KENNEDY\"\n\nUltimately I was able to take her anonymously and unexpectedly to\nan American medium, Mrs. Wriedt, and there she received strong and\nunmistakable proofs.[11] She also received excellent confirmation\nthrough several other mediums whom she had discovered for\nherself--notably Mr. Vout Peters and Mrs. Osborne Leonard. Of Mrs.\nLeonard I had not previously heard; I had heard of a Madame St.\nLeonard, or some name like that, but this is somebody else. Mrs.\nKennedy tells me that she herself had not known Mrs. Leonard long,\nher own first sitting with that lady having been on 14 September\n1915. I must emphasise the fact that Mrs. Kennedy is keen and careful\nabout evidential considerations.\n\nAs Mrs. Kennedy's son Paul plays a part in what follows, perhaps\nit is permissible to quote here a description of him which she\ngave to Mr. Hill in October 1914, accompanying an expression of\nsurprise at the serious messages which she sometimes received from\nhim--interspersed with his fun and his affection:--\n\nK. K.'s DESCRIPTION OF PAUL\n\n \"Picture to yourself this boy: not quite eighteen but\n always taken for twenty or twenty-two; an almost divine\n character underneath, but exteriorly a typical 'motor\n knut,' driving racing-cars at Brooklands, riding for\n the Jarrott Cup on a motor cycle, and flying at Hendon\n as an Air Mechanic; dining out perpetually, because of\n his charm which made him almost besieged by friends; and\n apparently without any creed except honour, generosity,\n love of children, the bringing home of every stray cat to\n be fed here and comforted, a total disregard of social\n distinctions when choosing his friends, and a hatred of\n hurting anyone's feelings.\"\n\nOn seeing the announcement of Mr. R. Lodge's death in a newspaper,\nMrs. Kennedy 'spoke' to Paul about it, and asked him to help;\nshe also asked for a special sitting with Mrs. Leonard for the\nsame purpose, though without saying why. The name Raymond was on\nthat occasion spelt out through the medium, and he was said to be\nsleeping. This was on 18 September. On the 21st, while Mrs. Kennedy\nwas writing in her garden on ordinary affairs, her own hand suddenly\nwrote, as from her son Paul:--\n\n \"I am here.... I have seen that boy Sir Oliver's son; he's\n better, and has had a splendid rest, tell his people.\"\n\nLady Lodge having been told about Mrs. Leonard, and wanting to help\na widowed French lady, Madame Le Breton, who had lost both her sons,\nand was on a visit to England, asked Mrs. Kennedy to arrange a\nsitting, so as to avoid giving any name. A sitting was accordingly\narranged with Mrs. Leonard for 24 September 1915.\n\nOn 22 September, Mrs. Kennedy, while having what she called a 'talk'\nwith Paul, suddenly wrote automatically:--\n\n \"I shall bring Raymond to his father when he comes to see\n you.... He is so jolly, every one loves him; he has found\n heaps of his own folks here, and he is settling down\n wonderfully. DO TELL HIS FATHER AND MOTHER.... He spoke\n clearly to-day.... He doesn't fight like the others, he\n seems so settled already. It is a ripping thing to see\n one boy like this. He has been sleeping a long time, but\n he has spoken to-day....\n\n \"If you people only knew how we long to come, they would\n all call us.\"\n\n[Capitals indicate large and emphatic writing.]\n\nOn the 23rd, during Lady Lodge's call, Mrs. Kennedy's hand wrote what\npurported to be a brief message from Raymond, thus:--\n\n \"I am here, mother.... I have been to Alec already, but\n he can't hear me. I do wish he would believe that we are\n here safe; it isn't a dismal hole like people think, it\n is a place where there is life.\"\n\nAnd again:\n\n \"Wait till I have learned better how to speak like\n this.... We can express all we want later; give me time.\"\n\nI need hardly say that there is nothing in the least evidential in\nall this. I quote it only for the sake of reasonable completeness, so\nas to give the history from the beginning. Evidence comes later.\n\nNext day, 24 September 1915, the ladies went for an interview with\nMrs. Leonard, who knew no more than that friends of Mrs. Kennedy\nwould accompany her. The following is Lady Lodge's account of the\nsitting:--\n\n_First Sitting of any Member of the Family (Anonymous) with Mrs.\nLeonard_\n\n\nGENERAL ACCOUNT BY M. F. A. L.\n\n24 SEPTEMBER 1915\n\n Mrs. Leonard went into a sort of trance, I suppose, and\n came back as a little Indian girl called 'Freda,' or\n 'Feda,' rubbing her hands, and talking in the silly way\n they do.\n\n However, she soon said there was an old gentleman and a\n young one present, whom she described; and Mrs. Kennedy\n told me afterwards that they were her father and her son\n Paul. There seemed to be many others standing beside us,\n so 'Feda' said.\n\n Then Feda described some one brought in lying down--about\n twenty-four or twenty-five, not yet able to sit up; the\n features she described might quite well have belonged to\n Raymond. (I forgot to say Mrs. Leonard did not know me\n or my name, or Madame le Breton's.) Feda soon said she\n saw a large R beside this young man, then an A, then she\n got a long letter with a tail, which she could not make\n out, then she drew an M in the air, but forgot to mention\n it, and she said an O came next, and she said there was\n another O with a long stroke to it, and finally, she said\n she heard 'Yaymond' (which is only her way of pronouncing\n it). [The name was presumably got from 'Paul.'--O. J. L.]\n Then she said that he just seemed to open his eyes and\n smile; and then he had a choking feeling, which distressed\n me very much; but he said he hadn't suffered much--not\n nearly as much as I should think; whether he said this,\n or Paul, I forget; but Paul asked me not to tell him\n to-morrow night that I was not with him, as he had so much\n the feeling that I was with him when he died, that he\n (Paul) wouldn't like to undeceive him.\n\n I then asked that some one in that other world might\n kiss him for me, and a lady, whom they described in a\n way which was just like my mother, came and kissed him,\n and said she was taking care of him. And there was also\n an old gentleman, full white beard, etc. (evidently my\n stepfather, but Feda said with a moustache, which was a\n mistake), with W. up beside him, also taking care; said he\n had met Raymond, and he was looking after him, and lots of\n others too; but said he [W.] belonged to me and to 'O.'\n [Correct.] I asked how and what it was he had done for\n me, and Feda made a movement with her fingers, as though\n disentangling something, and then putting it into straight\n lines. He then said he had made things easier for me. So\n I said that was right, and thanked him gratefully. I said\n also that if Raymond was in his and Mamma's hands, I was\n satisfied.\n\n[I do not append the notes of this sitting, since it was held mainly\nfor Madame and her two sons, both of whom were described, and from\nwhom some messages appeared to come.]\n\n\n_Table Sitting at Mrs. Leonard's_\n\nNext day (Saturday, 25 September 1915), as arranged partly by Paul,\nthe three ladies went to Mrs. Leonard's house again for a sitting\nwith a table, and Dr. Kennedy kindly accompanied them to take notes.\n\nThe three ladies and the medium sat round a small table, with their\nhands lightly on it, and it tilted in the usual way. The plan adopted\nhere is for the table to tilt as each letter of the alphabet is\nspoken by the medium, and to stop, or 'hold,' when a right letter is\nreached. For general remarks on the rationale, or what most people\nwill naturally consider the absurdity, of intelligent movements of\nthis kind, see Chapter XIV, Part III.\n\nIt was a rather complicated sitting, as it was mainly for Madame\nwho was a novice in the subject. Towards the end unfortunately,\nthough momentarily and not at all pronouncedly, she spoke to Lady\nLodge by name. At these table sittings the medium, Mrs. Leonard,\nis not unconscious; accordingly she heard it in her normal self,\nand afterwards said that she had heard it. The following extracts\nfrom the early part of the sitting may be quoted here, as answers\npurporting to be spelt out by Raymond:--\n\n QUESTIONS ANSWERS\n\n Are you lonely? No.\n\n Who is with you? Grandfather W.\n\n Have you anything to say to You know I can't help missing\n me? you, but I am learning to be\n happy.\n\n Have you any message for any Tell them I have many good\n of them? friends.\n\n Can you tell me the name of anyone Honor. [One of his sisters.]\n at home?\n\n(Other messages of affection and naturalness.)\n\n Have I enough to satisfy them No.\n at home?\n\n Is there anything you want to Tell father I have met some\n send? friends of his.\n\n Any name? Yes; Myers.\n\n Have you anything else to say? (No answer.)\n\n Is some one else there? Yes; Guy. (This was a son of\n Madame, and the sitting became\n French.)\n\nReasonable and natural messages were spelt out in French. The other\nson of Madame was named Didier, and an unsuccessful attempt to spell\nthis name was made, but the only result was DODI.\n\n\n_Automatic Writing by Mrs. Kennedy, 26 September_\n\nOn 26 September Mrs. Kennedy (alone) had a lot of automatic writing,\nwith her own hand, mainly from Paul, who presently wrote, \"Mother, I\nhave been let to bring Raymond.\"\n\n(After a welcome, Raymond was represented as sending this message:--)\n\n \"I can speak easier than I could at the table, because you\n are helping all the time. It is easy when we are alone\n with you, but if I go there it confuses me a little....\n I long to comfort them. Will you tell them that Raymond\n had been to you, and that Paul tells me I can come to you\n whenever I like? It is so good of you to let the boys all\n come....\"\n\n \"Paul tells me he has been here since he was seventeen;\n he is a jolly chap; every one seems fond of him. I don't\n wonder, for he helps every one. It seems a rule to call\n Paul if you get in a fix.\"\n\n(Then Paul said he was back, and wrote:--)\n\n \"He is quite happy really since he finds he can get to his\n people. He has slept ever since last night, till I was\n told to fetch him to-night.\"\n\n(Asked about the French boys, Paul said:--)\n\n \"I saw them when I brought them, but I don't see them\n otherwise; they are older than I am ... they hardly\n believe it yet that they have spoken. All the time they\n felt it was impossible, and they nearly gave it up, but I\n kept on begging them to tell their mother they lived.\"\n\n \"I do hope she felt it true, mother....\"\n\n \"It is hard to think your sons are dead; but such a lot of\n people do think it. It is revolting to hear the boys tell\n you how no one speaks to them ever; it hurts me through\n and through.\"\n\n(Interval. Paul fetched Guy [one of Madame Le Breton's\nsons], saying:--)\n\n \"I can't stand it when they call out for help. Speak to\n him please, mother.\"\n\n(Mrs. Kennedy spoke to Guy, saying that she felt he\ncould not believe any of it, but would he give time and\ntrouble to studying the subject as she was doing? The\nfollowing writing came:--)\n\n GUY.--I think you hear me because it is just as I am\n feeling; how CAN I believe we can speak to you who live\n where we once lived? It was not possible then for us to\n speak to dead people; and why should it be possible for us\n to speak. Will you keep on helping me, please, for I can't\n follow it, and I long to?\n\n(Mrs. Kennedy asked him to ask Paul, that being an easier method,\nprobably, than getting information through her. She asked him to\n'excuse' Paul's youth.)\n\n GUY.--I like Paul; he is good to us. I shall be glad to\n talk to him constantly if he has time for all of us; he\n seems a sort of messenger between us and you, isn't he?\n\n[Guy had been to school in England, his brother had not.]\n\n [Footnote 11: I think it only fair to mention the names\n of professional mediums, if I find them at all genuine. I\n do not guarantee their efficiency, for mediumship is not\n a power that can always be depended on,--it is liable to\n vary; sitters also may be incompetent, and conditions may\n be bad. The circumstances under which sensitives work are\n difficult at the present time and ought to be improved.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nFIRST SITTING OF O. J. L. WITH MRS. LEONARD\n\n\nOn 27 September, as already stated in Chapter III, I myself visited\nMrs. Leonard, going anonymously and alone, and giving no information\nbeyond the fact that I was a friend of Mrs. Kennedy. I lay no stress,\non my anonymity, however.\n\nIn a short time Feda controlled, and at first described an elderly\ngentleman as present. Then she said he brought some one with the\nletter R; and as I took verbatim notes I propose to reproduce this\nportion in full, so as to give the general flavour of a 'Feda'\nsitting; only omitting what has already been extracted and quoted in\nChapter III.\n\n\n_O. J. L. at Mrs. Leonard's, Monday, 27 September 1915, 12 noon to 1\no'clock_\n\n(Mrs. Leonard's control 'Feda' speaking all the time.)\n\n There is some one here with a little difficulty; not fully\n built up; youngish looking; form more like an outline;\n he has not completely learnt how to build up as yet.\n Is a young man, rather above the medium height; rather\n well-built, not thick-set or heavy, but well-built. He\n holds himself up well. He has not been over long. His\n hair is between colours. He is not easy to describe,\n because he is not building himself up so solid as some\n do. He has greyish eyes; hair brown, short at the sides;\n a fine-shaped head; eyebrows also brown, not much arched;\n nice-shaped nose, fairly straight, broader at the nostrils\n a little; a nice-shaped mouth, a good-sized mouth it is,\n but it does not look large because he holds the lips\n nicely together; chin not heavy; face oval. He is not\n built up quite clearly, but it feels as if Feda knew him.\n He must have been here waiting for you. Now he looks at\n Feda and smiles; now he laughs, he is having a joke with\n Feda, and Paulie laughs too. Paul says he has been here\n before, and that Paul brought him. But Feda sees many\n hundreds of people, but they tell me this one has been\n brought quite lately. Yes, I have seen him before. Feda\n remembers a letter with him too. R, that is to do with him.\n\n (Then Feda murmured, as if to herself, \"Try and give me\n another letter.\") (Pause.)\n\n It is a funny name, not Robert or Richard. He is not\n giving the rest of it, but says R again; it is from him.\n He wants to know where his mother is; he is looking for\n her; he does not understand why she is not here.\n\nO. J. L.--Tell him he will see her this afternoon, and that she is\nnot here this morning, because she wants to meet him this afternoon\nat three o'clock.\n\n [Meaning through another medium, namely Peters. But that,\n of course, was not said.]\n\n He has been to see you before, and he says that once he\n thought you knew he was there, and that two or three times\n he was not quite sure. Feda gets it mostly by impression;\n it is not always what he says, but what she gets; but Feda\n says \"he says,\" because she gets it from him somehow.[12]\n He finds it difficult, he says, but he has got so many\n kind friends helping him. He didn't think when he waked up\n first that he was going to be happy, but now he is, and he\n says he is going to be happier. He knows that as soon as\n he is a little more ready, he has got a great deal of work\n to do. \"I almost wonder,\" he says, \"shall I be fit and\n able to do it. They tell me I shall.\"\n\n [_And so on as reported in Chapter III._]\n\n He seems to know what the work is. The first work he will\n have to do, will be helping at the Front; not the wounded\n so much, but helping those who are passing over in the\n war. He knows that when they pass on and wake up, they\n still feel a certain fear--and some other word which Feda\n missed. Feda hears a something and 'fear.' Some even go\n on fighting; at least they want to; they don't believe\n they have passed on. So that many are wanted where he is\n now, to explain to them and help them, and soothe them.\n They do not know where they are, nor why they are there.\n\n [I considered that this was ordinary 'Feda talk,' such as\n it is probably customary to get through mediums at this\n time; therefore, though the statements are likely enough,\n there is nothing new in them, and I thought it better to\n interrupt by asking a question. So I said:--]\n\nO. J. L.--Does he want to send a message to anyone at home? Or will\nhe give the name of one of his instructors?\n\n [I admit that it is stupid thus to ask two questions at once.]\n\n He shows me a capital H, and says that is not an\n instructor, it is some one he knows on the earth side. He\n wants them to be sure that he is all right and happy. He\n says, \"People think I say I am happy in order to make them\n happier, but I don't\".\n\n [_And so on as already reported in Chapter III._]\n\n Now the first gentleman with the letter W is going over\n to him and putting his arm round his shoulder, and he is\n putting his arm round the gentleman's back. Feda feels\n like a string round her head; a tight feeling in the head,\n and also an empty sort of feeling in the chest, empty, as\n if sort of something gone. A feeling like a sort of vacant\n feeling there; also a bursting sensation in the head. But\n he does not know he is giving this. He has not done it on\n purpose, they have tried to make him forget all that, but\n Feda gets it from him. There is a noise with it too, an\n awful noise and a rushing noise.\n\n He has lost all that now, but he does not seem to know why\n Feda feels it now. \"I feel splendid,\" he says, \"I feel\n splendid! But I was worried at first. I was worried, for I\n was wanting to make it clear to those left behind that I\n was all right, and that they were not to worry about me.\"\n\n You may think it strange, but he felt that you would not\n worry so much as some one else; two others, two ladies,\n Feda thinks. You would know, he says, but two ladies would\n worry and be uncertain; but now he believes they know more.\n\nThen, before Mrs. Leonard came out of trance, came the description\nof a falling dark cross which twisted round and became bright, as\nreported in Chapter III.\n\nAfter the sitting, and before I went away, I asked Mrs. Leonard if\nshe knew who I was. She replied, \"Are you by chance connected with\nthose two ladies who came on Saturday night?\" On my assenting, Mrs.\nLeonard added, \"Oh! then I know, because the French lady gave the\nname away; she said 'Lady Lodge' in the middle of a French sentence.\"\n\nI also spoke to her about not having too many sittings and straining\nher power. She said she \"preferred not to have more than two or three\na day, though sometimes she could not avoid it; and some days she had\nto take a complete rest.\" But she admitted that she was going to have\nanother one that day at two o'clock. I told her that three per day\nwas rather much. She pleaded that there are so many people who want\nhelp now, that she declined all those who came for only commercial or\nfortune-telling motives, but that she felt bound to help those who\nare distressed by the war. I report this to show that she saw many\npeople totally disconnected with Raymond or his family: so that what\nshe might say to a new unknown member of the family could be quite\nevidential.\n\n [Footnote 12: Note this, as an elucidatory statement.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nFIRST PETERS SITTING (ANONYMOUS)\n\n\nMrs. Kennedy desired Lady Lodge to try with a different and\nindependent medium, and therefore kindly arranged with Mr. A. Vout\nPeters to come to her house on Monday afternoon and give a trance\nsitting to 'a friend of hers' not specified. Accordingly, at or about\n3 p.m. on Monday, 27 September 1915, Lady Lodge went by herself to\nMrs. Kennedy's house, so as not to have to give any name, and awaited\nthe arrival of Peters, who, when he came, said he would prefer to sit\nin Mrs. Kennedy's own room in which he had sat before, and which he\nassociated with her son Paul. No kind of introduction was made, and\nPeters was a total stranger to Lady Lodge; though to Mrs. Kennedy\nhe was fairly well known, having several times given her first-rate\nevidence about her son, who had proved his identity in several\nstriking ways.\n\nWhen Peters goes into a trance his personality is supposed to change\nto that of another man, who, we understand, is called 'Moonstone';\nmuch as Mrs. Piper was controlled by apparent personalities calling\nthemselves 'Phinuit' or 'Rector.' When Peters does not go into a\ntrance he has some clairvoyant faculty of his own.\n\nThe only other person present on this occasion was Mrs. Kennedy, who\nkindly took notes.\n\nThis is an important sitting, as it was held for a complete stranger,\nso I propose to report it practically in full.\n\n\n_M. F. A. L. Sitting with A. Vout Peters, in Mrs. Kennedy's House, on\n27 September 1915, at 3.30 p.m._\n\n MEDIUM A. VOUT PETERS.\n SITTER LADY LODGE (M. F. A. L.).\n RECORDER MRS. KATHERINE KENNEDY (K. K.).\n\n_The record consists of Mrs. Kennedy's notes. Annotations in square\nbrackets have been added subsequently by O. J. L._\n\nWhile only partially under control, Peters said: \"I feel a lot of\nforce here, Mrs. Kennedy.\"\n\nPeters was controlled quickly by 'Moonstone,' who greeted K. K. and\nreminded her of a prophecy of his. (This prophecy related to the\nRussian place Dvinsk, and to the important actions likely to be going\non there--as if the decisive battle of the war was to be fought\nthere.) Then he turned to L. L. and said:--\n\n What a useful life you have led, and will lead.\n\n You have always been the prop of things.\n\n You have always been associated with men a lot.\n\n You are the mother and house prop.\n\n You are not unacquainted with spiritualism.\n\n You have been associated with it more or less for some\n time.\n\n I sense you as living away from London--in the North or\n North-West.\n\n You are much associated with men, and you are the house\n prop--the mother. You have no word in the language that\n quite gives it--there are always four walls, but something\n more is needed--you are the house prop.\n\n You have had a tremendous lot of sadness recently, from a\n death that has come suddenly.\n\n You never thought it was to be like this. (Peters went on\n talking glibly, and there was no need for the sitter to\n say anything.)\n\n There is a gentleman here who is on the other side--he\n went very suddenly. Fairly tall, rather broad, upright\n (here the medium sat up very straight and squared his\n shoulders)--rather long face, fairly long nose, lips full,\n moustache, nice teeth, quick and active, strong sense of\n humour--he could always laugh, keen sense of affection.\n\n He went over into the spirit world very quickly. There is\n no idea of death because it was so sudden, with no illness.\n\n Do you know anything connected with the letter L? (No\n answer was given to this.)\n\n What I am going to say now is from Paul--he says: \"Tell\n mother it is not one L, it is double L.\" He says: \"Tell\n mother she always loved a riddle\"--he laughs. (L. L. and\n K. K. both said they could not understand.[13] 'Moonstone'\n continued:--)\n\n They don't want to make it too easy for you, and funnily\n enough, the easier it seems to you sometimes the more\n difficult it seems to them.\n\n This man is a soldier--an officer. He went over where it\n is warm.\n\n You are his mother, aren't you--and he does not call you\n ma, or mamma, or mater--just mother, mother. [True.]\n\n He is reticent and yet he told you a tremendous lot.\n\n You were not only his mother but his friend.\n\n Wasn't he clever with books? He laughs and says: \"Anyhow\n I ought to be, I was brought up with them.\" He was not\n altogether a booky person.\n\n He knew of spiritualism before he passed over, but he was\n a little bit sceptical--he had an attitude of carefulness\n about it. He tells me to tell you this:\n\n The attitude of Mr. Stead and some of those people turned\n him aside; on one side there was too much credulity--on\n the other side too much piffling at trifles.\n\n [See also Appendix to this sitting.]\n\n He holds up in his hand a little heap of olives, as\n a symbol for you--then he laughs. Now he says--for a\n test--Associated with the olives is the word Roland.[14]\n All of this is to give you proof that he is here.\n\n Before you came you were very down in the dumps.\n\n Was he ill three weeks after he was hurt? [More like three\n hours, probably less.]\n\n (Various other guesses were made for the meaning of 3.)\n\n I see the figure 3 so plainly--can't you find a meaning\n for it?\n\n(L. L. suggested 3rd Battalion, and 'Moonstone'\ncontinued:--)\n\n He says \"Yes\"--and wasn't he officially put down on\n another one? [Perfectly true, he was attached to the 2nd\n Battalion at the Front, to the 3rd or reserve Battalion\n while training.][15]\n\n He says: \"Don't forget to tell father all this.\"\n\n His home is associated with books--both reading and\n writing books. Wait a minute, he wants to give me a word,\n he is a little impatient with me. Manuscripts, he says,\n manuscripts--that's the word.\n\n He sends a message, and he says--this is more for\n father--\"It is no good his attempting to come to the\n medium here, he will simply frighten the medium for all\n he is worth, and he will not get anything. But he is not\n afraid of you, and if there is communication wanted with\n this man again, _you_ must come.\"\n\n You have several portraits of this boy. Before he went\n away you had got a good portrait of him--2--no, 3. [Fully\n as many as that.]\n\n Two where he is alone and one where he is in a group of\n other men. [This last is not yet verified.][16]\n\n He is particular that I should tell you of this. In\n one you see his walking-stick ('Moonstone' here put an\n imaginary stick under his arm). [Not known yet]\n\n He had particularly strong hands.\n\n When he was younger, he was very strongly associated with\n football and outdoor sports. You have in your house prizes\n that he won, I can't tell you what. [Incorrect; possibly\n some confusion in record here; or else wrong.]\n\n Why should I get two words--'Small' and 'Heath,'\n\n [Small Heath is a place near Birmingham with which he had\n some but not close associations.]\n\n Also I see, but very dimly as in a mist, the letters B I\n R. [Probably Birmingham.]\n\n You heard of either his death or of his being hurt by\n telegram.\n\n He didn't die at once. He had three wounds.\n\n I don't think you have got details yet. [No, not fully.]\n\n If he had lived he would have made a name for himself in\n his own particular line.\n\n Was he not associated with chemistry? If not, some one\n associated with him was, because I see all the things in a\n chemical laboratory.\n\n [The next portion has already been reported in Chapter III, but I do\n not omit it from its context here.]\n\n That chemistry thing takes me away from him to a man in\n the flesh.\n\n And connected with him a man, a writer of poetry, on our\n side, closely connected with spiritualism.\n\n He was very clever--he too passed away out of England.\n\n He has communicated several times.\n\n This gentleman who wrote poetry--I see the letter M--he is\n helping your son to communicate.\n\n He is built up in the chemical conditions.\n\n If your son didn't know this man, he knew of him.\n\n At the back of the gentleman beginning with M and who\n wrote poetry is a whole group of people.\n\n They are very interested. And don't be surprised if you\n get messages from them, even if you don't know them.\n\n This is so important that is going to be said now, that\n I want to go slowly, for you to write clearly every word\n (dictates carefully).\n\n \"Not only is the partition so thin that you can hear the\n operators on the other side, but a big hole has been made.\"\n\n This message is for the gentleman associated with the\n chemical laboratory.\n\n The boy--I call them all boys, because I was over a\n hundred when I lived here and they are all boys to me--he\n says, he is here, but he says: \"Hitherto it has been a\n thing of the head, now I am come over it is a thing of\n the heart. What is more (here Peters jumped up in his\n chair vigorously, snapped his fingers excitedly, and spoke\n loudly):\n\n \"Good God! how father will be able to speak out! much\n firmer than he has ever done, because it will touch our\n hearts.\"\n\nM. F. A. L.--Does he want his father to speak out?\n\n Yes, but not yet--wait, the evidence will be given in such\n a way that it cannot be contradicted, and his name is big\n enough to sweep all stupid opposition on one side.\n\n I was not conscious of much suffering, and I am glad that\n I settled my affairs before I went.\n\n [He did; he made a will just before leaving England, and\n left things in good order. He also cleared up things when\n he joined the Army.]\n\n Have you a sister of his with you, and one on our side? A\n little child almost, so little that you never associated\n her with him.\n\n There are two sisters, one on each side of him, one in the\n dark and one in the light.\n\n [Raymond was the only boy sandwiched in between two\n sisters; Violet older than he, and still living\n (presumably in the dark), and Laura[17] younger than he,\n died a few minutes after birth (in the light). Raymond was\n the youngest boy, and had thus a sister on either side of\n him.]\n\n Your girl is standing on one side, Paul on the other, and\n your boy in the centre. (Here 'Moonstone' put his arm\n round K. K.'s shoulder to show how the boy was standing.)\n Now he stoops over you and kisses you there (indicating\n the brow).\n\n Before he went away he came home for a little while.\n Didn't he come for three days?\n\n (There is a little unimportant confusion in the record\n about 'days.')\n\nThen, with evident intention of trying to give a 'test,' some\ntrivial but characteristic features were mentioned about the interior\nof three houses--the one we are in now, the one we had last occupied\nat Liverpool, and the one he called 'Mother's home.' But there is\nagain some confusion in the record, partly because M. F. A. L. didn't\nunderstand what he was driving at, partly because the recorder found\nit difficult to follow; and though the confusion was subsequently\ndisentangled through another medium next day, 28 September, it is\nhardly worth while to give as much explanation as would be needed to\nmake the points clear. So this part is omitted. (See p. 145).\n\n And he wanted me to tell you of a kiss on the forehead.\n\nM. F. A. L.--He did not kiss me on the forehead when he said good-bye.\n\n Well he is taller than you, isn't he?\n\n (Yes.)\n\n Not very demonstrative before strangers. But when alone\n with you, like a little boy again.\n\nM. F. A. L.--I don't think he was undemonstrative before strangers.\n\n Oh yes, all you English are like that. You lock up your\n affection, and you sometimes lose the key.\n\n He laughs. He says you didn't understand about Rowland. He\n can get it through now, it's a Roland for your Oliver [p.\n 131].\n\n [Excellent. By recent marriages the family has gained a\n Rowland (son-in-law) and lost (so to speak) an Oliver\n (son).]\n\n He is going. He gives his love to all.\n\n It has been easy for him to come for two reasons: First,\n because you came to get help for Madame.[18] Secondly,\n because he had the knowledge in this life.\n\nM. F. A. L.--I hope it has been a pleasure to him to come?\n\n Not a pleasure, a joy.\n\nM. F. A. L.--I hope he will come to me again.\n\n As much as he can.\n\n Paul now wants to speak to his mother.\n\n\n_Appendix to First Peters Sitting_\n\nNOTE ON RAYMOND'S OLD ATTITUDE TO PSYCHO-PHYSICAL PHENOMENA\n\nMrs. Rowland Waterhouse has recently found among her papers an old\nletter from Bedales School which she received from her brother\nRaymond when she was in Paris during the winter 1905-1906. The\nconcluding part of it is of some small interest in the light of later\ndevelopments:--\n\n \"I should like to hear more about table turning. I\n don't believe in it. The girls here say they have done\n it at Steephurst, and they attribute it to some sense\n of which we know nothing, and which I want to turn to\n some account, driving a dynamo or something, if it is\n possible, as they make out, to cause a table to revolve\n without any exertion.--I am your affectionate brother,\n\n \"RAYMOND.\"\n\n [Footnote 13: Though K. K.'s record, being made at the\n time, reads L. L. (meaning Lady Lodge) throughout. When\n she speaks, later on, I change the L. L. of the record to\n her proper initials to avoid confusion.--O. J. L.]\n\n [Footnote 14: This is clear, though apparently it was not\n so recognised at the time. See later, pp. 135 and 144.]\n\n [Footnote 15: Let it be understood, once for all, that\n remarks in square brackets represent nothing said at the\n time, but are comments afterwards by me when I read the\n record.--O. J. L.]\n\n [Footnote 16: The photograph episode is described above,\n in Chapter IV, in the light of later information.]\n\n [Footnote 17: Now apparently called Lily: see later.]\n\n [Footnote 18: This is curious, because it was with Mrs.\n Leonard that Madame had sat, not with Peters at all. It is\n a simple cross-correspondence.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nA TABLE SITTING\n\n\nOn 28 September my wife and I together had a table sitting with\nMrs. Leonard, which may be reported nearly in full together with my\npreliminary note written immediately afterwards. This is done not\nbecause it is a particularly good specimen, but because these early\nsittings have an importance of their own, and because it may be\ninstructive to others to see the general manner of a table sitting.\nIt was, I think, the first joint-sitting of any kind which we had had\nsince the old Piper days.\n\n\nNOTE BY O. J. L. ON TABLE TILTINGS\n\nA table sitting is not good for conversation, but it is useful\nfor getting definite brief answers--such as names and incidents,\nsince it seems to be less interfered with by the mental activity\nof an intervening medium, and to be rather more direct. But it\nhas difficulties of its own. The tilting of the table need not be\nregarded as a 'physical phenomenon' in the technical or supernormal\nsense, yet it does not _appear_ to be done by the muscles of those\npresent. The effort required to tilt the table is slight, and\nevidentially it must, no doubt, be assumed that so far as mechanical\nforce is concerned, it is exerted by muscular action. But my\nimpression is that the tilting is an incipient physical phenomenon,\nand that though the energy, of course, comes from the people present,\nit does not appear to be applied in quite a normal way (XIV, Pt. III).\n\nAs regards evidence, however, the issue must be limited to\nintelligent direction of the energy. All that can safely be claimed\nis that the energy is intelligently directed, and the self-stoppage\nof the table at the right letter conveys by touch a sort of\nwithholding feeling--a kind of sensation as of inhibition--to those\nwhose hands lie flat on the top of the table. The light was always\nquite sufficient to see all the hands, and it works quite well in\nfull daylight. The usual method is for the alphabet to be called\nover, and for the table to tilt or thump at each letter, till it\nstops at the right one. The table tilts three times to indicate\n\"yes,\" and once to indicate \"no\"; but as one tilt also represents the\nletter A of the alphabet, an error of interpretation is occasionally\nmade by the sitters. So also C might perhaps be mistaken for \"yes,\"\nor _vice versa_; but that mistake is not so likely.\n\nUnconscious guidance can hardly be excluded, _i.e._ cannot be\nexcluded with any certainty when the answer is of a kind expected.\nBut first, our desire was rather in the direction of avoiding such\ncontrol; and second, the stoppages were sometimes at unexpected\nplaces; and third, a long succession of letters soon becomes\nmeaningless, except to the recorder who is writing them down\nsilently, as they are called out to him _seriatim_, in another part\nof the room.\n\nIt will also be observed that at a table sitting it is natural for\nthe sitters to do most of the talking, and that their object is to\nget definite and not verbose replies.\n\nOn this occasion the control of the table seemed to improve as the\nsitting went on, owing presumably to increased practice on the part\nof the communicator, until towards the end, when there seemed to\nbe some signs of weariness or incipient exhaustion; and, since the\nsitting lasted an hour and a half, tiredness is in no way surprising.\n\nNo further attempt was made to keep our identity from Mrs. Leonard:\nour name had been given away, as reported near the end of Chapter VI.\n\n\n_Table Sitting with Mrs. Leonard, Tuesday, 28 September 1915, at 5.30\np.m._\n\n_Present_--O. J. L., M. F. A. L., K. K., with DR. KENNEDY AT ANOTHER\nTABLE AS RECORDER\n\nA small partly wicker table with a square top was used, about 18\ninches square. O. J. L. and M. F. A. L. sat opposite to each other;\nK. K. and Mrs. Leonard occupied the other positions, Mrs. Leonard to\nthe right of O. J. L. After four minutes' interval, the table began\nto tilt.\n\n_Medium._--Will you tilt three times to show you understand?\n\n (It did.)\n\n_Medium._--Will you like to give your name?\n\n (It gave three tilts indicating Yes.)\n\n_Medium._--Very well, then, the alphabet. Spell it, please.\n\n (Mrs. Leonard here repeated the alphabet fairly quickly, while the\n table tilted slightly at each letter as it was said,\n\n stopping first at the letter P\n then at the letter A\n then U\n then L.\n\nO. J. L.--Yes, very well, Paul; we know who you are, and you know who\nwe are, and we know that you have brought Raymond, and have come to\nhelp.\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--We that are here know about this, and you have given us\nevidence already, but I am here to get evidence for the family.\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--Would you like to say something first, before I ask a\nquestion?\n\n (Silence.)\n\n Then the table moved and shook a little, indicating that it wanted\n the alphabet; and when the medium recited the letters, it spelt out\n in the same manner as before, _i.e._ by stopping at the one desired\n by whatever intelligence was controlling the table:--\n\n RAYMOND WANTS TO COME HIMSELF.\n\n Here M. L. ejaculated: \"Dear Raymond,\" and sighed unconsciously.\n\n The table spelt--it being understood that Raymond had now taken\n control:--\n\n DO NOT SIGH.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Was I sighing?\n\nO. J. L.--Yes, but you must not be so distressed; he doesn't like it.\nHe is there all right, and I am glad to have some one on the other\nside.\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--Raymond, your mother is much happier now.\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--Now then, shall I ask you questions?\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--Well now, wait a minute and take your time, and I will ask\nthe first question:--\n\n \"What did the boys call you?\"\n\n The medium now again repeated the alphabet, the table tilting to each\n letter as before,\n\n first stopping at P\n then at A\n then at P again;\n it then shook as if something was wrong.\n\nO. J. L.--Very well, try again, begin once more.\n\n Again it spelt Pap, but again indicated dissent, and tried again: at\n the third trial it appeared to spell\n\n PAS.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Raymond dear, you have given two letters right, try and\ngive the third.\n\n It now stopped at T; making PAT.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Yes, that is right.\n\n [This was, of course, well in our knowledge and therefore not\n strictly evidential, but it would not be in the knowledge of the\n medium.] (Cf. p. 148.)\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--Well, now, you have done that, shall I ask another?\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--Will you give the name of a brother?\n\n The alphabet was repeated as usual by the medium, in a monotonous\n manner, the table tilting as before\n\n and stopping first at N\n then at O\n then going past E, it stopped at R\n and the next time at M\n then, by a single tilt, it indicated A or else \"No.\"\n\nO. J. L., thinking that the letters R and M were wrong, because the\n(to him) meaningless name NORMAN was evidently being given, took it\nas \"No,\" and said:--\n\nO. J. L.--You are confused now, better begin again.\n\n The name accordingly was begun again, and this time it spelt\n\n NOEL.\n\nO. J. L.--That is right. [But see appended Note, p. 147.]\n\n A slight pause took place here; the table then indicated that it\n wanted the alphabet again, and spelt out an apparently single\n meaningless word which Dr. Kennedy, as he wrote the letters down,\n perceived to be\n\n FIRE AWAY.\n\nO. J. L.--Oh! You want another question! Would you like to say the\nname of an officer?\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--Very well then, spell it.\n\n Table spelt:--\n\n MIP,\n\n then indicated error.\n\nO. J. L.--Not P?\n\n NO.\n\nO. J. L.--Well, begin again.\n\n MITCHELL.\n\nO. J. L.--Then the officer's name is Mitchell?\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--Was he a captain?\n\n (Silence.)\n\nO. J. L.--Was he a lieutenant?\n\n (Silence.)\n\nO. J. L.--Was he a second lieutenant perhaps?\n\n (Apparent assent, but nothing forcible.)\n\nO. J. L.--I am now going to give a name away on purpose; I am going\nto ask--Do you remember Case?\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--Would you like to say anything about him?\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--Very well then, let us have the alphabet.\n\n Table spelt:--\n\n HE IS A GOING A LLONG ALL RRIGHT.\n\n[Erasures signify errors which were made either by the communicator\nor the interpreter, and are in accordance with the record. The method\nwas that each letter, as understood, was called out, usually by me,\nto the recorder. When a wrong letter was indicated, or when there was\nobviously a duplication, it was scratched out as above.]\n\n (After a short silence the spelling began again, it being easy for\n the table to indicate to the medium, by shaking or fidgeting, that\n she is wanted to repeat the alphabet.)\n\n HE IS HERE.\n\nO. J. L.--What, on your side?\n\n [Thinking it referred to Lieutenant Case.]\n\n A loud \"NO.\"\n\n HE IS HERE SPEAK.\n\nK. K. (interpreting for us).--It only means Raymond is here and\nwaiting.\n\nO. J. L.--Under what circumstances did you see him last?\n\n (The answer was apparently a faint \"YES.\")\n\nO. J. L.--Have you any special message, or did you give Case a\nspecial message?\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--What was it?\n\n SO IM NOT SO IM WUO\n\n (Here some confusion was indicated; and M. F. A. L. said,\n \"Try and spell the name\"--meaning for whom the message\n was, if it was a message that was intended, which was very\n doubtful.\n\n It seemed to me that he was trying to say, or remember,\n what he had said to Lieutenant Case, who saw him after\n he had been struck; and that what he thought he had said\n was \"So I'm wounded\"; but I thought it unadvisable to\n continue on this tack, and rather regretted that I had\n begun it, since it was liable to put him back into a\n period of reminiscence which his friends would prefer that\n he did not dwell upon. Moreover, these last few questions\n did not seem particularly to interest him, and the\n responses were comparatively weak. Accordingly, I decided\n to switch him on to a topic that would be more likely to\n interest him.)\n\nO. J. L.--Would you like your mother to go and see a friend of yours?\n\n (Some names of friends of his were now correctly given,\n but as we knew them I need not reproduce this part.)\n\nO. J. L.--I say, Raymond, would you like a Ford? [motor].\n\n (After a moment's apparent surprise:--)\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--Aren't you tired now?\n\n Loud \"NO.\"\n\nM. F. A. L.--Raymond, I don't know Mitchell.\n\n NO.\n\nO. J. L.--Well, that will be better evidence.\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--Is that why you chose it?\n\n YES.\n\n AER\n\nMEDIUM (_sotto voce_).--No, that can't be right.\n\nO. J. L. (_ditto_).--I don't know; it may be. Go on.\n\n OPLANE.\n\nO. J. L.--You mean that Mitchell is an aeroplane officer?\n\n \"YES\" (very loud).\n\nM. F. A. L. (misunderstanding, and thinking that he had said that he\nwould like an aeroplane in preference to a Ford).--Still at your jokes,\nRaymond!\n\n YES.\n\n (Then again the table indicated, by slight rocking, that\n the alphabet was wanted; and it spelt:--)\n\n RAYMOND IS BEATING U.\n\n (The sitters here made a little explanatory comment to\n each other on what they understood this unimportant\n sentence to mean; after which O. J. L. appears to have\n said:--)\n\nO. J. L.--I don't like bothering you.\n\n Table moved, indicating that it was no trouble.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Raymond, can you see us?\n\n YES.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Can you see that I have been writing to you? [See Part I,\np. 10.]\n\n YES.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Can you read what I am writing?\n\n YES.\n\nM. F. A. L.--How do you read it? By looking over my shoulder?\n\n Table again called for alphabet and spelt:--\n\n SENSE IT.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Shall you ever be able to write through my hand do you\nthink?\n\n (Silence.)\n\nM. F. A. L.--Well, anyhow, you would like me to try?\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--Raymond, have you plenty to do over there?\n\n Loud \"YES.\"\n\nO. J. L.--Well, look here, I am going to give another name away.\n\n NO.\n\nO. J. L.--Oh! You prefer not! Very well, I will ask you in this way:\nHave you met any particular friend of mine?\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--Very well then, spell his name.\n\n The table spelt:--\n\n MYRES AND GRA.\n\n Here O. J. L. thought that he had got wrong--rather\n suspected that the A meant \"No,\" and stupidly said:--\n\nO. J. L.--Well, it doesn't matter, it won't be evidential, so I may\nas well guess what you mean: Is it Gurney?\n\n The table assented. But it still went on spelling. It\n again spelt:--\n\n GRA\n\n and then\n\n ND,\n\n at which O. J. L. queried: Grand men?\n\n The table dissented, and went on and spelt:--\n\n FATHER.\n\nO. J. L.--Oh! You mean Grandfather!\n\n YES.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Is he with Myers and Gurney?\n\n Emphatic \"NO.\"\n\nM. F. A. L.--Which grandfather is it that you mean? Give the first\nletter of his Christian name.\n\n W.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Dear Grandpapa! He would be sure to come and help you!\n\nO. J. L.--I say, do you like this table method better than the 'Feda'\nmethod?\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--But you remember that you can send anything you want\nspecially through Paul always?\n\nYES.\n\nO. J. L.--That was a grand sitting yesterday that your mother had!\n[_i.e._ the one with Peters.]\n\n YES.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Do you remember showing olives?\n\n YES.\n\nM. F. A. L.--What did you mean by them?\n\n OLIVER.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Then we now understand--A Roland for an Oliver.\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--You intended no reference to Italy? [We had been doubtful\nat first of the significance of the olives; see p. 131.]\n\n NO.\n\nO. J. L.--But you were interested in Italy?\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--Do you remember anyone special in Italy?\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--Well, spell the name.\n\n (A name was spelt correctly.)\n\nO. J. L.--You _are_ clever at this!\n\n Loud \"YES.\"\n\nO. J. L.--You always did like mechanical things.\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--Can you explain how you do this? I mean how you work the\ntable?\n\n The table then spelt with the alphabet for a long time,\n and as the words were not divided up, the sitters lost\n touch, one after the other, with what was being said. I,\n for instance, lost touch after the word \"magnetism,\" and,\n for all I know, it was nonsense that was being said; but\n the recorder put all the letters down as they came, each\n letter being called out by me according to the stoppages\n of the table, and the record reads thus:--\n\n YOU ALL SUPPLY MAGNETISM GATHERED IN MEDIUM, AND THAT GOES\n INTO TABLE; AND WE MANIPULATE.\n\n [The interest of this is due to the fact that the table\n was spelling our coherent words, although the sitters\n could hardly, under the circumstances, be exercising any\n control. Naturally, this does not prevent the medium\n from being supposed to be tilting out a message herself,\n and hence it is quite unevidential of course; but, in\n innumerable other cases, the things said were quite\n outside the knowledge of the medium.]\n\nO. J. L.--It is not what _I_ should call \"magnetism,\" is it?\n\n NO.\n\nO. J. L.--But you do not object to the term?\n\n NO.\n\nO. J. L--Paul's mother offers to take messages from you, and if she\ngets them, she will transmit them to us.\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L--So when you want to get anything special through, just speak\nto Paul.\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--And sometimes I shall be able to get a message back to you.\n\n Loud \"YES.\"\n\n (In answer to a question about which of his sisters were\n at school with a specified person, the names of the right\n two sisters were now spelt out:--)\n\n ROSALIND.\n\n [We generally spell the name Rosalynde, but it was spelt\n here Rosalind as shown.]\n\n BARBARA.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Isn't it clever of him?\n\n Loud and amusing \"Yes.\"\n\nO. J. L.--I never thought you would do it so quickly.\n\n NO.\n\nO. J. L.--Can you still make acrostics? [O. J. L. immediately\nregretted having asked this leading sort of question, but it was\nasked.]\n\n YES.\n\nK. K.--You are not going to make one now?\n\n NO.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Can you see me, Raymond, at other times when I am not\nwith a medium?\n\n Alphabet called for, and spelt:--\n\n SOMETIMES.\n\nM. F. A. L.--You mean when I think of you?\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--That must be very often.\n\n Loud \"YES.\"\n\n [When a 'loud' YES or NO is stated, it means that the\n table tilted violently, bumping on the floor and making\n a noise which impressed the recorder, so that the words\n \"loud bumps\" were added in the record.]\n\n [I then asked him about the houses (of which he had\n specified some identifying features at a previous sitting\n through Peters on 27 September). He seemed to regret that\n there had been some confusion, and now correctly spelt out\n GROVEPARK as the name of one house, and NEWCASTLE as the\n place where 'Mother's home' was. But I omit details, as\n before.] (See p. 135.)\n\nO. J. L.---Tell Mr. Myers and Mr. Gurney that I am glad to hear from\nthem and that they are helping you.\n\n YES.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Give my affectionate regards to Mr. Gurney for a message\nwhich he got through for me some time ago.\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--Now you must rest.\n\n YES.\n\nM. F. A. L.--One of your record sleeps.\n\n Loud \"YES.\"\n\nO. J. L.--Good-bye, I will tell the family to-morrow.\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--Alec especially.\n\n YES.\n\nM. F. A. L.--No\u00ebl will love to have his name spelt out.\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--Well, good-bye, old man, we shall hear from you again.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Good-bye, Raymond darling.\n\nO. J. L.--Before we stop, does Paul want to say a word?\n\n (Paul was then understood to take control, and spelt out:--)\n\n HE IS GETTING ON WELL.\n\n (We then thanked Paul for helping, and said good-bye.)\n\n(_End of sitting._)\n\n * * * * *\n\nTo complete the record I shall append the few annotations which I\nmade a couple of days afterwards, before I supplement them with later\ninformation.\n\n_Contemporary Annotations for Table Sitting on 28 September_\n\nVery many things were given right at the sitting above recorded,\nand in most cases the rightness will be clear from the comments of\nthe sitters as recorded. But two names are given on which further\nannotation is necessary, because the sitters did not understand\nthem; in other words, they were such as, if confirmed, would furnish\nexcellent and indeed exceptional evidence.\n\nThe first is 'Norman,' about which a very important report could be\nmade at once; but I think it better not to put anything in writing\non that subject even now, at the present stage, since it is quite\ndistinct, unforgettable, and of the first importance.\n\nThe other is the name 'Mitchell,' which at present we have had\nno opportunity for verifying; hence annotation on that must be\npostponed. Suffice it to say that to-day (6 October 1915) it remains\nunknown. Whether an Army List has been published this year seems\ndoubtful, and on the whole unlikely; and no Army List later than 1909\nhas been so far accessible. Such few inquiries as have up to now been\nmade have drawn blank. [See, however, three pages further on.]\n\n_Later Information_\n\nOn 10 October Mrs. Kennedy, alone, had some automatic writing as\nfollows:--\n\n Mother, Paul is bringing Raymond. I have him here; he will speak to\n you....\n\n \"Please listen carefully now I want to speak to you about NORMAN.\n There is a special meaning to that because we always called my brother\n Alec Norman, the (muddle ...).\"\n\n(K. K. said that she couldn't get the rest clearly.)\n\nOn 12 October we had a sitting with Mrs. Leonard, K. K. also present,\nand I said to 'Raymond':--\n\nDo you want to say anything more about that name 'Norman'? You gave a\nmessage about it to Mrs. Kennedy, but I don't know whether she got it\nclearly. Perhaps you want to amplify it? If so, now is your chance.\n(The reply spelt out was:--)\n\n I TOLD HER THAT I CALLED LIONEL.\n\n On which K. K. said: \"I am afraid I often get names wrong. I suppose I\n got the name of the wrong brother.\"\n\nNOTE BY O. J. L. ABOUT THE NAME 'NORMAN'\n\nIt appears that 'Norman' was a kind of general nickname; and\nespecially that when the boys played hockey together, which they\noften did in the field here, by way of getting concentrated exercise,\nRaymond, who was specially active at this game, had a habit of\nshouting out, \"Now then, Norman,\" or other words of encouragement,\nto any of his other brothers whom he wished to stimulate, especially\napparently Lionel, though sometimes Alec and the others. That is what\nI am now told, and I can easily realise the manner of it. But I can\ntestify that I was not aware that a name like this was used, nor was\nLady Lodge, we two being the only members of the family present at\nthe Leonard table sitting where the name 'Norman' was given. (See p.\n140.)\n\nIt will be remembered that at that sitting I first asked him what\nname the boys had called him, and, after a few partial failures,\nobviously only due to mismanagement of the table, he replied, 'Pat,'\nwhich was quite right. I then asked if he would like to give the name\nof a brother, and he replied 'Norman,' which I thought was quite\nwrong. I did not even allow him to finish the last letter. I said he\nwas confused, and had better begin again; after which he amended it\nto '*No\u00ebl,' which I accepted as correct. But it will now be observed\nthat the name 'Norman' was the best he could possibly give, as a\nkind of comprehensive nickname applicable to almost any brother.\nAnd a nickname was an appropriate kind of response, because we had\nalready had the nickname 'Pat,' Furthermore, on subsequent occasions\nhe explained that it was the name by which he had called Lionel; and,\nthrough Mrs. Kennedy--if she did not make a mistake--that it was a\nname he had called Alec by. It is quite possible, however, that he\nhad intended to say 'Lionel' on that occasion, and that she got it\nwrong. I am not sure how that may be. Again, at a later stage, in a\nfamily sitting--no medium present--one of the boys said, \"Pat, do you\nremember 'Norman'?\" at which with some excitement, the girls only\ntouching the table, he spelt out 'HOCKEY'; thus completing the whole\nincident.\n\nThe most evidential portions, however, are those obtained when nobody\npresent understood what was being said--namely, first, the spelling\nof the name 'Norman' when those present thought that it was all a\nmistake after the first two letters; and secondly, the explanation\nto Mrs. Kennedy that it was a name by which he had called one of his\nbrothers, showing that it was originally given by no accident, but\nwith intention.\n\nAs to the name 'Pat' (p. 140), I extract the following from a diary\nof No\u00ebl, as evidence that it was very much Raymond's nickname; but of\ncourse we knew it:--\n\n 1914\n \"Sept. 9. Pat goes to L'pool _re_ Commission.\n \" 10. Pat gets commission in 3rd South Lanc's.\n \" 14. Pat collecting kit. We inspect revolvers.\n \" 18. Pat comes up to Harborne for some rifle practice.\n Does not find it too easy.\n \" 19. I become member of Harborne Rifle Club.\n \" 20. Pat shoots again.\n\n Sept. 23. Pat leaves for L'pool to start his training at Great\n Crosby.\n I give up commission-idea for the present.\n Oct. 17. Pat comes home to welcome Parents back from Australia.\n \" 20. Pat returns to L'pool.\"\n\n_Note on the name 'Mitchell' (added later)_\n\nIt can be remembered that, when asked on 28 September for the name\nof an officer, Raymond spelt out MITCHELL, and indicated decisively\nthat the word AEROPLANE was connected with him; he also assented to\nthe idea that he was one whom the family didn't know, and that so it\nwould be better as evidence (pp. 141, 142).\n\nAfter several failures at identification I learnt, on 10 October,\nthrough the kind offices of the Librarian of the London Library, that\nhe had ascertained from the War Office that there was a 2nd Lieut.\nE. H. Mitchell now attached to the Royal Flying Corps. Accordingly,\nI wrote to the Record Office, Farnborough; and ultimately, on 6\nNovember, received a post card from Captain Mitchell, to whom I must\napologise for the, I hope, quite harmless use of his name:--\n\n \"Many thanks for your kind letter. I believe I have met\n your son, though where I forget. My wounds are quite\n healed, and I am posted to Home Establishment for a bit,\n with rank of Captain. Your letter only got here (Dover)\n from France this morning, so please excuse delay in\n answering.\n\n E. H. MITCHELL.\"\n\n * * * * *\n\nIn concluding this chapter, I may quote a little bit of\nnon-evidential but characteristic writing from 'Paul.' It was\nreceived on 30 September 1915 by Mrs. Kennedy, when alone, and her\nrecord runs thus:--\n\n (After writing of other things, I _not_ having asked\n anything about Raymond.)\n\n \"I think it hardly possible for you to believe how quickly\n Raymond learns; he seems to believe all that we have to\n fight to teach the others.\n\n \"Poor chaps, you see no one has told them before they come\n over, and it is so hard for them when they see us and they\n feel alive, and their people keep on sobbing.\n\n \"The business for you and me gets harder and harder as the\n days go on, mother; it needs thousand at this work, and\n you are so small.\n\n \"I feel that God helps us, but I want Him to find others,\n darling; there is no time to waste either in your place or\n mine, but I know you are trying ever so hard.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nATTEMPTS AT STRICTER EVIDENCE\n\n\nIn a Table Sitting it is manifest that the hypothesis of unconscious\nmuscular guidance must be pressed to extremes, as a normal\nexplanation, when the communications are within the knowledge of any\nof the people sitting at the table.\n\nMany of the answers obtained were quite outside the knowledge of the\nmedium or of Mrs. Kennedy, but many were inevitably known to us; and\nin so far as they were within our knowledge it might be supposed,\neven by ourselves, that we partially controlled the tilting, though\nof course we were careful to try not to do so. And besides, the\nthings that came, or the form in which they came, were often quite\nunexpected, and could not consciously have been controlled by us.\nMoreover, when the sentence spelt out was a long one, we lost our\nway in it and could not tell whether it was sense or nonsense; for\nthe words ran into each other. The note-taker, who puts each letter\ndown as it is called out to him by the sitters at the table, has no\ndifficulty in reading a message, although, with the words all run\ntogether, it hardly looks intelligible at first sight, even when\nwritten. For instance:--\n\nBELESSWORRIEDALECPLEASEOLDCHAP,\n\nwhich was one message, or:--\n\nGATHEREDINMEDIUMANDTHATGOESINTOTABLEANDWEMANIPULATE,\n\nwhich was part of another. Neither could be readily followed if\ncalled out slowly letter by letter.\n\nStill, the family were naturally and properly sceptical about it all.\n\nAccordingly, my sons devised certain questions in the nature of\ntests, referring to trivial matters which they thought would be\nwithin Raymond's recollection, but which had happened to them alone\nduring summer excursions or the like, and so were quite outside my\nknowledge. They gave me a few written questions, devised in conclave\nin their own room; and on 12 October I took them to London with me in\na sealed envelope, which I opened in the train when going up for a\nsitting; and after the sitting had begun I took an early opportunity\nof putting the questions it contained. We had already had (on 28\nSeptember, reported in last chapter) one incident of a kind unknown\nto us, in the name 'Norman,' but they wanted more of the same or of\na still more marked kind. I think it will be well to copy the actual\ncontemporary record of this part of the sitting in full:--\n\n_Second Table Sitting of O. J. L. and M. F. A. L. with\nMrs. Leonard, 12 October 1915, 5.30 p. m._\n\n_Present._--O. J. L., M. F. A. L., K. K., WITH DR. KENNEDY\n AS RECORDER\n\nAt the beginning of the sitting O. J. L. explained that they were\nnow engaged in trying to get distinct and crucial evidence; that\npreparations had been made accordingly; and that no doubt those on\nthe other side approved, and would co-operate.\n\nA pause of three and a half minutes then ensued, and the table gave a\nslow tilt.\n\n O. J. L.--Is Paul there?\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--Have you brought Raymond?\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--Are you there, Raymond?\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L. (after M. F. A. L. had greeted him).--Well now, look here,\nmy boy, I have got a few questions which your brothers think you\nwill know something about, whereas to me they are quite meaningless.\nTheir object is to make quite sure that we don't unconsciously help\nin getting the answers because we know them. In this case that is\nimpossible, because nobody here knows the answers at all. Do you\nunderstand the object?\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--Very well then, shall I begin?\n\n NO.\n\nO. J. L.--Oh! You want to say something yourself first?\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--Very well then, the alphabet.\n\n TELLTHEMINOWTRYTOPROVEIHAVEMESSAGESTOTHEWORLD.\n\n [Taking these long messages down is rather tedious, and\n it is noteworthy that the sitters lose their way sooner\n or later--I had no idea what was coming or whether it was\n sense--but of course when it is complete the recorder can\n easily interpret, and does so.]\n\nO. J. L.--Is that the end of what you want to say yourself?\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--Well then, now I will give you one of the boys' questions,\nbut I had better explain that you may not in every case understand\nthe reference yourself. We can hardly expect you to answer all of\nthem, and if you don't do one, I will pass on to another. But don't\nhurry, and we will take down whatever you choose to say on each of\nthem. The first question is:--\n\nO. J. L.--\"Do you remember anything about the Argonauts?\"\n\n (Silence for a short time.)\n\nO. J. L.--'Argonauts' is the word. Does it mean anything to you? Take\nyour time.\n\n Yes.\n\nO. J. L.--Well, would you like to say what you remember?\n\n YES.\n\n Then, by repeating the alphabet, was spelt:--\n\n TELEGRAM.\n\nO. J. L.--Is that the end of that answer?\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--Well, now I will go on to the second question then. \"What\ndo you recollect about Dartmoor?\"\n\n The time for thought was now much briefer, and the table\n began to spell pretty soon:--\n\n COMING DOWN.\n\nO. J. L.--Is that all?\n\n NO.\n\nO. J. L.--Very well then, continue.\n\n HILL FERRY.\n\nO. J. L.--Is that the end of the answer?\n\n YES.\n\nO. J. L.--Very well then, now I will go on to the third question,\nwhich appears to be a bit complicated. \"What do the following suggest\nto you:--\n\n Evinrude\n O. B. P.\n Kaiser's sister.\"\n\n (No good answers were obtained to these questions: they\n seemed to awaken no reminiscence.\n\n Asked the name of the man to whom Raymond had given his\n dog, the table spelt out STALLARD quite correctly. But\n this was within our knowledge.)\n\n (_End of extract from record_.)\n\nNOTE ON THE REMINISCENCES AWAKENED BY THE WORDS 'ARGONAUTS' AND\n'DARTMOOR'\n\nOn reporting to my sons the answers given about 'Argonauts' and\n'Dartmoor' they were not at all satisfied.\n\nI found, however, from the rest of the family that the word TELEGRAM\nhad a meaning in connexion with 'Argonauts'--a meaning quite unknown\nto me or to my wife--but it was not the meaning that his brothers\nhad expected. It seems that in a previous year, while his mother and\nI were away from home, the boys travelled by motor to somewhere in\nDevonshire, and (as they think) at Taunton Raymond had gone into a\npost office, sent a telegram home to say that they were all right,\nand had signed it 'Argonauts.' The girls at home remembered the\ntelegram quite well; the other boys did not specially remember it.\n\nThe kind of reference they had wanted, Raymond gave ultimately though\nmeagrely, but only after so much time had elapsed that the test had\nlost its value, and only after I had been told to switch him on to\n\"Tent Lodge, Coniston,\" as a clue.\n\nNow that I know the answer I do not think the question was a\nparticularly good one; and the word 'telegram,' which they had not\nexpected and did not want, seems to me quite as good an incident as\nthe one which, without a clue, they had expected him to recall in\nconnexion with 'Argonauts.' Besides, I happened myself to know about\nan Iceland trip in Mr. Alfred Holt's yacht 'Argo' and its poetic\ndescription by Mr. Mitchell Banks and Dr. Caton in a book in the\ndrawing-room at Tent Lodge, Coniston (though the boys were not aware\nof my knowledge), but it never struck me that this was the thing\nwanted; and if it had come, the test would have been of inferior\nquality.\n\nConcerning the answer to 'Dartmoor,' his brothers said that COMING\nDOWN HILL was correct but incomplete; and that they didn't remember\nany FERRY. I therefore on another occasion, namely, on 22 October,\nduring a sitting with Feda (that is to say, not a table sitting, but\none in which Mrs. Leonard's control Feda was speaking and reporting\nmessages), said--still knowing nothing about the matter beyond what\nI had obtained in the table sitting--\"Raymond, do you remember about\n'Dartmoor' and the hill?\"\n\nThe answer is recorded as follows, together with the explanatory\nnote added soon afterwards--though the record is no doubt a little\nabbreviated, as there was some dramatic representation by Feda of\nsudden swerves and holding on:--\n\n_From Sitting of O. J. L. and M. F. A. L. on_ 22 _October_ 1915.\n_'Feda' speaking_\n\nO. J. L.--Raymond, do you remember about Dartmoor and the hill?\n\n Yes, he said something about that. He says it was\n exciting. What is that he says? Brake--something about a\n brake--putting the brake on. Then he says, sudden curve--a\n curve--he gives Feda a jerk like going round a quick curve.\n\n [I thought at the time that this was only padding, but\n subsequently learnt from Alec that it was right. It was\n on a very long night-journey on their motor, when the\n silencer had broken down by bursting, at the bottom of\n an exceptionally steep hill, and there was an unnerving\n noise. The one who was driving went down other steep hills\n at a great pace, with sudden applications of the brake and\n sudden quick curves, so that those at the back felt it\n dangerous, and ultimately had to stop him and insist on\n going slower. Raymond was in front with the one who was\n driving. The sensations of those at the back of the car\n were strongly connected with the brake and with curves;\n but they had mainly expected a reference from Raymond to\n the noise from the broken silencer, which they ultimately\n repaired during the same night with tools obtained at the\n first town they stopped at.]\n\nO. J. L.--Did he say anything about a ferry?\n\n No, he doesn't remember that he did.\n\nO. J. L.--Well, I got it down.\n\n There is one: all the same there is one. But he didn't\n mean to say anything about it. He says it was a stray\n thought that he didn't mean to give through the table.\n He has found one or two things come in like that. It was\n only a stray thought. You have got what you wanted, he\n says. 'Hill,' he meant to give, but not 'ferry.' They have\n nothing to do with each other.\n\n * * * * *\n\nOn a later occasion I took an opportunity of catechising him further\nabout this word FERRY, since none of the family remembered a ferry,\nor could attach any significance to the word. He still insisted\nthat his mention of a ferry in connexion with a motor trip was not\nwrong, only he admitted that \"some people wouldn't call it a ferry.\"\nI waited to see if any further light would come; and now, long\nafterwards, on 18 August 1916 I receive from Alec a note referring to\na recent trip, this month, which says:--\n\n \"By the way, on the run to Langland Bay (which is the\n motor run we all did the year before the run to Newquay)\n we pass through Briton Ferry; and there is precious little\n ferry about it.\"\n\nSo even this semi-accidental reminiscence seems to be turning out not\naltogether unmeaning; though probably it ought not to have come in\nanswer to 'Dartmoor.' (See more about Dartmoor on p. 211.)\n\n\nGENERAL REMARKS ON THIS TYPE OF QUESTION\n\nIt will be realised, I think, that a single word, apart from the\ncontext, thus thrown at a person who may be in a totally different\nmood at the time, is exceedingly difficult; and on the whole I think\nhe must be credited with some success, though not with as much as\nhad been hoped for. If his brothers had been present, or had had any\ninterview with him in the meantime, it would have spoilt the test,\nconsidered strictly; nevertheless, it might have made the obtaining\nof the answers they wanted much more feasible, inasmuch as in their\npresence he would have been in their atmosphere and be more likely\nto remember their sort of surroundings. Up to this date they had not\nhad any sitting with a medium at all. In presence of his mother and\nmyself, and under all the circumstances, and what he felt to be the\ngravity of some of his recent experiences, it is not to me surprising\nthat the answers were only partially satisfactory; though, indeed, to\nme they seem rather good. Anyhow, they had the effect of stimulating\nhis brothers to arrange some sittings with a table at home on their\nown account.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nRECORD CONTINUED\n\n\nI might make many more extracts from this sitting of 22 October,\nof which a short extract has just been quoted, because, though\nnot specially evidential, they have instructive and so to speak\ncommon-sense features, but it is impossible to include everything. I\nwill therefore omit most of it, but quote a little, not because it is\nevidential, but because what is said may be instructive to inquirers.\n\n\nFROM O. J. L. AND M. F. A. L. SITTING WITH MRS. LEONARD, 22 OCTOBER\n1915\n\n He wants to gather evidence and give something clearly.\n He seems to think that his brother had been coming here\n (looking about).\n\nO. J. L.--Your brother will come to see you to-morrow. [He was not\ncoming to Mrs. Leonard.]\n\n Where is he? He got the impression that he had either been\n here or should be here now; he has got the thought of him.\n He has been trying to get into touch with him himself; he\n has been trying to speak to him. Seems to have something\n to do with Mrs. Kathie,[19] and he has tried to write to\n him. The trouble is, that he can't always see distinctly.\n He feels in the air, but can't see always distinctly. (To\n M. F. A. L.) When you are sitting at the table he sees\n you, and can see what you have got on. When he tries to\n come to you, he can only sense you; but at the table he\n can see you.\n\nO. J. L.--Has he seen his brothers at a table?\n\n No, not at the table. He sensed them, and he thought they\n were trying to speak to him; but didn't feel as if he was\n going to get near. It has something to do with a medium.\n Medium. [Meaning that they were trying to do without a\n medium.]\n\nM. F. A. L.--When did he see me?\n\n When a medium is present he sees you quite distinctly.\n He saw you, not here, but at another place. Oh, it was\n in London, another place in London, some time ago. He\n was surprised to see you, and wondered how he could.\n [Presumably the occasion intended was when Mrs. Kennedy,\n who herself has power, was present as well as Peters.]\n He can only think the things he wants to say.[20] [Then\n reverting to his brothers' attempts at Mariemont.] \"Tell\n them to go on. I shall never get tired. Never! Tell them\n to have patience. It is more interesting to me than to\n them.\" He does not seem sure if he got anything through.\n It is so peculiar. Even here, he is not always quite\n certain that he has said what he wanted to say, except\n sometimes when it is clear and you jump at it. Sometimes\n then he feels, \"I've got that home, anyway!\" He has got to\n feel his way. They must go easy with him--not ask too much\n all at once. If they have plenty of patience, in a while\n he will be able to come and talk as if he were there.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Do you mean with the voice?\n\n No, with the table.\n\n More important than talking is to get things through with\n his own people, and to give absolute evidence. He doesn't\n want them to bother him with test questions till he feels\n at home. It doesn't matter here, where there is a medium,\n but the conditions there are not yet good. Tell them to\n take for granted that it is he, and later on he will be\n able to talk to them and say all he wishes to say. The\n boys are so eager to get tests. When grandpapa comes, it\n is to relieve him a little, while he is not there. He\n doesn't himself want to speak.\n\n Twice a week, he says.\n\n He is bringing a girl with him now--a young girl, growing\n up in the spirit world. She belongs to Raymond: long\n golden hair, pretty tall, slight, brings a lily in her\n hand. There is another spirit too who passed out very\n young--a boy; you wouldn't know him as he is now; he\n looks about the same age as Raymond, but very spiritual\n in appearance; he brings a W with him; he doesn't know\n much of the earth plane, nor the lily either; he passed\n over too young. They are both with Raymond now. They look\n spiritual and young. Spirit people look young if they\n passed on young. Raymond is in the middle between them. He\n says this is not very scientific. [All this is appropriate\n to a deceased brother and sister; the brother older, the\n sister younger.]\n\n Raymond really is happy now. He doesn't say this to make\n you feel satisfied. He is really happy now. He says\n this is most interesting, and is going to be fifty times\n more interesting than on the earth plane. There is such a\n big field to work in. Father and he are going to do such\n a lot together. He says, \"I am going to help for all I\n am worth.\" (To M. F. A. L.) If you are happy, I will be\n happier too. You used to sigh; it had an awful effect on\n him, but he is getting lighter with you. Father has been\n wonderful. He is often with Paulie, and has been to see\n Mrs. Kathie too.\n\n [Meaning Mrs. Katherine Kennedy. Feda, of course, is\n speaking throughout.]\n\nM. F. A. L.--Which way does he find the easiest to come?\n\n He is able to get to you by impression, and not only by\n writing. He thinks he can make you hear. He is trying to\n make you clair-audient. Let there be no misapprehension\n about that. He does it in order to help himself. He hopes\n to get something through.\n\nO. J. L.--You might send the same thing through different channels.\n\n Yes, he says. He need not say much, but is going to think\n it out. He can get Mrs. K. to write it out, and then get\n it through the table with them. He thinks he will be able\n to do a lot with you, Mrs. Kathie. You know that Paulie's\n here?\n\n(K. K. spoke to Paul for a short time.)\n\nO. J. L.--Do you think it had better be tried on the same evening, or\non different evenings?\n\n Try it on the same evening at first, and see what success\n is got; if only one word came through the same, he would\n be very pleased. He might get one word first, then two,\n then two or three. Tell them to reserve a little time for\n just that, and give him some time specially for it, not\n mix it up with other things in the sittings.\n\nK. K.--Shall I ask him to write some word?\n\n He will think of some word--no matter if it is\n meaningless. What you have to do is, not to doubt, but\n take it down. One word might be much more valuable than a\n long oration. One word would do, no matter how silly it\n sounded; even if it is only a jumble, so long as it is the\n same jumble. He is jumping now. [Meaning, he is pleased\n with the idea.] He says he finds it difficult owing to the\n medium. He is not able to get through all he wants to say,\n but on the whole thinks he got it pretty straight to-night.\n\n [The quickness with which the communicator jumped at the\n idea of a cross-correspondence was notable, because I do\n not think he had known anything about them. It sounded\n rather like the result of rapid Myersian instruction. I\n rather doubt if cross-correspondences of this kind can be\n got through Mrs. Kennedy, though she knows we are going to\n try for them. The boys are quite willing to take down any\n jumble, but she herself likes to understand what she gets,\n and automatically rejects gibberish.--O. J. L.]\n\n * * * * *\n\nOn 13 October, through the kind arrangement of Mrs. Kennedy, we had\nan anonymous sitting with a medium new to us, a Mrs. Brittain, of\nHanley, Staffordshire, in Mrs. Kennedy's house.\n\nIt was not very successful--the medium seemed tired and worried--but\nthere were a few evidential points obtained, though little or nothing\nabout the boy; in the waking stage, however, she said that some one\nwas calling the name 'Raymond.'\n\nAt an interview next day with Mrs. Kennedy, Mrs. Brittain said that\na boy named 'Pat' had come with Paul to see her on the evening after\nthe sitting (see p. 148 for the significance of 'Pat'); and she\ndescribed it in writing to Mrs. Kennedy thus:--\n\n 14 _October_ 1915\n\n \"I was just resting, thinking over the events of the day,\n and worrying just a little about my ordeal of next Monday,\n when I became conscious of the presence of such a dear\n soldier boy. He said, 'I am Pat, and oh, I did want to\n speak to my mother.' Then I saw with him your dear boy\n [Paul]; he asked me to tell you about Pat, and to give\n the message to his father that he would get proof without\n seeking it.\"\n\n [Footnote 19: Mrs. Kennedy's name is Katherine, and Feda\n usually speaks of her as Mrs. Kathie.]\n\n [Footnote 20: This corresponds with an early statement\n made by \"Myers\" through Mrs. Thompson. See _Proceedings_,\n S.P.R., vol. xxiii. p. 221.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nFIRST SITTING OF ALEC (A. M. L.)\n\n_Introduction by O. J. L._\n\n\nA word may be necessary about the attitude of Raymond's family to the\nwhole subject. It may be thought that my own known interest in the\nsubject was naturally shared by the family, but that is not so. So\nfar as I can judge, it had rather the opposite effect; and not until\nthey had received unmistakable proof, devised largely by themselves,\nwas this healthy scepticism ultimately broken down.\n\nMy wife had had experience with Mrs. Piper in 1889, though she\ncontinued very sceptical till 1906 or thereabouts, when she had\nsome extraordinarily good evidence. But none of this experience was\nshared by the family, who read neither my nor anyone else's books\non the subject, and had no first-hand evidence. For the most part\nthey regarded it without interest and with practical scepticism. If\nin saying this I convey the impression of anything like friction or\ndisappointment, the impression is totally false. Life was full of\ninterest of many kinds, and, until Raymond's death, there was no\nneed for them to think twice about survival or the possibility of\ncommunication.\n\nThe first sitting held by any of his brothers, apart from private\namateur attempts at home,--the first sitting, I may say, held by any\nof them with any medium,--took place on 23 October, when Alec had a\nsitting with Peters; his mother also was present, but no names were\ngiven. Alec's record of this sitting, together with his preliminary\nNote, I propose to quote practically in full.\n\nAlec and his mother went in the morning to Mrs. Kennedy's house,\nwhere the sitting was to take place. M. F. A. L. stopped on the way\nto buy a bunch of violets, which she put on Peters' table. When he\narrived and saw them, he was very pleased; ejaculated \"my flower,\"\nand said that he could not have had anything that gave him more\npleasure.\n\nI may here remark, incidentally, that Peters is a man who takes\nhis mediumship seriously, and tries to regulate his life so as to\nget good conditions. Thus, he goes into the country at intervals,\nand stops all work for a time to recuperate. He lives, in fact, at\nWestgate-on-Sea, and only has a room in London. He seems to lead a\nsimple life altogether, and his \"control\" spoke of his having been\nprepared since six o'clock that morning for this sitting.\n\nAlec went up prepared to take notes, and after the sitting wrote the\nfollowing preliminary account:--\n\n\n_A. M. L.'s Remarks on the Sitting_\n\nMother and I arrived at Mrs. Kennedy's house at five minutes to\neleven. We saw Mrs. Kennedy, who asked us if we would like her to be\npresent. We said yes. Then she told us that Peters had come, and that\nshe would ask him. Peters wanted her to be present.\n\nMrs. Kennedy brought Peters up; he shook hands, without any\nintroduction. We had all gone up to Mrs. Kennedy's private room,\nwhere Peters likes the sittings to take place. We four sat round a\ntable about four feet in diameter. A. and M. with backs to one or\nother of the two windows, K. and P. more or less facing them. A. was\nopposite P.; M. was opposite K. There was plenty of light, but the\nroom was partly shaded by pulling down blinds. They talked about\nstreet noises at first. P. held K.'s and M.'s hands for a time. K.\nand M. talked together a little. P. now moved about a little and\nrubbed his face and eyes. Suddenly he jerked himself up and began\ntalking in broken English.\n\nDuring the trance his eyes were apparently closed all the time; and\nwhen speaking to anyone he 'looked' at them with his eyelids screwed\nup. Sometimes a change of control occurred. While that was taking\nplace, he sat quiet, and usually held K.'s and M.'s hands until\nanother sudden jerk occurred, when he let go and started talking.\n\nThe sitting was rather disjointed, and most of it apparently not of\nmuch importance, but for a few minutes in the middle it was very\nimpressive. It then felt to me exactly as if my hand was being held\nin both Raymond's, and as if Raymond himself was speaking in his own\nvoice. My right hand was being held, but even if I had had it free I\ncould not possibly have taken notes under the circumstances.\n\n(M. F. A. L. adds that neither could she nor anyone, while that part\nof the sitting was going on.)\n\nPeters spoke often very quickly, and sometimes indistinctly, so that\nthe notes are rather incomplete.\n\n(To this O. J. L. adds that it was Alec's first experience of a\nsitting, and that, even with experience, it is difficult to take\nanything like full notes.)\n\n_Report of Peters Sitting in Mrs. Kennedy's Room, at 11 a.m. on\nSaturday, 23 October 1915_\n\n(Revised by the Sitters)\n\n_Present_--MRS. KENNEDY (K. K.), LADY LODGE (M. F. A. L.), ALEC M.\nLODGE, and the Medium--VOUT PETERS\n\nREPORT BY A. M. L.\n\nIn a short time Peters went into trance, and 'Moonstone' was\nunderstood to be taking control. He first made some general remarks:--\n\n Good morning! I generally say, \"Good evening,\" don't I?\n Don't be afraid for Medie; he has been prepared since six\n o'clock this morning. Magnetism has to be stored up, and\n therefore it is best to use the same room and the same\n furniture every time.\n\n Then he spoke to K. K.:--\n\n Will you call on little woman close to? It will mean\n salvation to two people. [Abbreviated.]\n\n(K. K. understood.)\n\n Then the medium took M.'s hand.\n\n Somebody not easy to describe; old lady; not tall; grey\n hair, parted in centre; grey eyes; nose thin; mouth fairly\n large and full. This describes her as she was before she\n passed away. Had big influence on your early life. Good\n character; loving, but perhaps lived in narrow outlook;\n not only a mother to her own belongings, but she mothered\n every man, woman, or child she came into contact with. She\n is here this morning and has been before. Is it not your\n Mother?\n\nM. F. A. L.--If it is my Mother, it is a great pleasure to me.\n\n She has been with you and comforted you through this trial.\n\n She has been, and will go on, looking after the boy. You\n must not think she is not just as much with you because\n she has no body. She is just as much your mother. She\n _has_ a body, though it is different.\n\n (Pointing to A.) She is related to _him_. She puts her\n hand on his shoulder. She is very proud of what he is\n doing at the present time. He has been a great help\n to you. Since the passing away of him who is loved by\n you both, he has looked on spiritualism with much more\n respect, because previously it has not touched his heart.\n It is not only a thing of the head, it is now a thing of\n the heart.\n\n She suffered terribly before passing away. She bore her\n suffering patiently.\n\n She put her finger on her lips and says: \"I am so proud of\n O.!\" (Medium puts one finger on middle of lips.)\n\n It has always been what I thought: the triumph (?) has\n been a long time coming, but it will come greater than had\n been anticipated. There have been difficulties. I am glad\n of success. It will come greater than before. The book\n that is to be will be written from the heart, and not the\n head. But the book will not be written now. NOT NOW! NOT\n NOW! NOT NOW! (loud). Written later on. THE BOOK which is\n going to help many and convert many. The work done already\n is big. But what is coming is bigger.\n\n(Interval.)\n\n (Paul, sending a message to K. K.:--)\n\n I have been drilling her to link up. You don't know what\n it is. It is like teaching people to transmit messages by\n the telegraph. Don't let the boy come, let Granny come.\n (The medium here imitated Paul's manner of sitting down\n and pulling up the knees of his trousers.) She laughs at\n the idea of being drilled.\n\n He says (Paul still communicating): You know, little\n Mother, you wonder why I was taken; but it is a great\n deal better like this. Thousands of people can be helped\n like this. You are the link, and the means of reaching\n thousands of mothers.\n\n (Then 'Moonstone' was understood to say:--)\n\n Returning to Madam (_i.e._ the old lady again, and medium\n turning to M. F. A. L.), she says: \"I am so glad you not\n only told him what you did--this is not to you but some\n one away (finger on lips), somebody she will not give--and\n reached out as you did.\"\n\n This is from Madam. She is going away.\n\nM. F. A. L.--My love to her.\n\n No, no, no, she does not go away; she stands back, to let\n some one else come forward--like actors take turns at a\n theatre.\n\n [Then an impersonation of my Uncle Jerry was represented,\n with the statement, \"Your husband will know who he is\";\n but this part of the record is omitted as comparatively\n unimportant. It was unintelligible to the sitter.--O. J.\n L.]\n\n (Then a new control came in, which was by K. K. understood\n to be 'Redfeather.' When he arrived, the medium smacked\n his hands and spoke to K. K.:--)\n\n I come dis little minute to try experiment. If we succeed,\n all right; if we don't, don't mind. There will be some\n difficulties.\n\n You know me? (To K. K.)\n\nK. K.--Yes. It is 'Redfeather.'\n\n Glad to see you better. You used to feel--a hand on your\n head. It was a little girl. It was your boy who brought\n her. Now I go. Just talk a little.\n\n(K. K. then thanked the speaker for his help.)\n\n Who could help better than me?\n\n ... long ago I was killed.\n\n Who could help better?\n\n (Then there was an interval, and evident change of\n control. And speech very indistinct at first.)\n\n I want to come.\n\n Call Mother to help me.\n\n Because you know.\n\n You understand.\n\n It wasn't so bad.\n\n Not so bad.\n\n I knew you knew the possibility of communicating, so when\n I went out as I did, I was in a better condition than\n others on the other side. We had often talked about this\n subject, father understanding it as he did; and now,\n coming into touch with his strength, makes it easy.\n\n (Medium here reached out across the table to A. and\n grasped his right hand, so that the notes were temporarily\n interrupted. The medium's arms were now both stretched\n out across the table, with his head down on them, and he\n held A.'s hand in both his. All this time he spoke with\n great emotion: the medium was shaken with sobs; his head\n and neck were suffused with blood; the whole circumstances\n were strained, and strongly emotional; and the voice was\n extraordinarily like Raymond's. A., too, felt that his\n hands were being gripped in a grasp just like Raymond's.\n This was the central part of the sitting; and for the time\n no notes could be taken, even by Mrs. Kennedy. But after\n a bit the hand was released, the strain rather lightened,\n and notes continue which run thus:--)\n\n[A. M. L. says, \"In time the interval was brief,\" but it was\nsurcharged with emotion, strongly felt by all present.]\n\n But no, wait.\n\n Because they tell me.\n\n I am not ashamed.\n\n I am glad.\n\n I tell you, I would do it again.\n\n I realise things differently to what one saw here.\n\n And oh, thank God, I can speak!\n\n But ...\n\n The boys help me.\n\n You don't know what he has done.\n\n Who could help?\n\n But I must keep quiet, I promised them to keep calm.\n\n The time is so short.\n\n Tell father that I am happy.\n\n That I am happy that he has not come.\n\n If he had come here, I couldn't have spoken.\n\n I find it difficult to express what I want.\n\n Every time I come back it is easier.\n\n The only thing that was hard was just before.\n\n The 15th, do you understand?\n\n And the 12th.\n\n [We do not clearly understand these dates.]\n\n But every time I come it is better.\n\n Grandmamma helped or I couldn't.\n\n Now I must go.\n\n ... broken ...\n\n But I have done it, thank God!\n\n(Then this special control ended; while the medium murmured, as to\nhimself, first the word 'John,' and then the word 'God.' Then the\nstrain was relieved by a new control, understood to be 'Biddy.')\n\n Surely it's meself that has come to speak. Here's another\n mother. I am helping the boy. I said to him to come out.\n\n (To A. M. L.) Just you go and do your work. When the boy\n comes as he did, it upsets the body. I come to help to\n soothe the nerves of the medium. It is a privilege to\n help. I am an old Irishwoman.\n\n (To K. K.) You don't realise that the world is governed\n by chains, and that you are one of the links. I was\n a washerwoman and lived next a church, and they say\n cleanliness comes next to godliness! One of my chains is\n to help mothers. Well, I am going. But for comfort,--the\n boy is glad he is come. (To K. K.) Your husband is a fine\n man. I love him. His heart's as big as his body, and it\n is not only medicine, but love that he dispenses.\n\n (Then an interval; and another control--probably\n 'Moonstone' again, or else Peters himself clairvoyantly:--)\n\n We succeeded a little in our experiment.\n\n Now the boy is with....\n\n (Here the medium seized _both_ Alec's hands, and K. K.\n continues the notes.)\n\n [But they may be abbreviated here, as they represent only\n Peters's ordinary clairvoyance--probably.]\n\n You bring with you a tremendous force. You don't always\n say what you think. A quick way of making up your mind.\n Your intuitional force is very strong. Your mind is very\n evenly balanced, [and so on].... The last three months,\n things have altered. It has stirred you to the depths of\n your innermost being. You had no idea how strong the bond\n was between you and one who has been here to-day. Want to\n shield and take care of your mother. You know her devotion\n to both you and the one gone over....\n\n The one gone over is a brother. He wants to send a message.\n\n (Some messages omitted.)\n\n You did not cry, but heart crying inside.\n\n Help others. You are doing it. If you ever tried to do\n what he did, you would physically break down. All this is\n from him.\n\n (To Mother) So glad about the photograph. Something you\n have had done that is satisfactory.\n\n [This is good, but it only occurred to me to-day, 31\n October. It evidently relates to two photographs in a\n pocket case, found on his body, which Raymond carried\n with him, and which had been returned to the original by\n us.--A. M. L.]\n\n Wants to convey message to father, but it is not about\n himself this time. I get the initials F W M--not clear\n about all the letters--but F M wishes to be remembered. He\n says: I am still very active. Get into touch with Crookes\n _re_ the Wireless.\n\n[O. J. L. was at Muirhead's works in Kent on this subject, at this\nmoment.--A. M. L.]\n\n Still active, still at work.\n\n [Spoken like \"I see you are still active, still at\n work.\"--A. M. L.]\n\n Then he gives me a curious thing, and laughs. One of the\n things I am most proud of is \"St. Paul.\"\n\n[This puzzled K. K., the note-taker.]\n\n (To Alec.) So glad you _came_, boy! What a lot you think!\n\n (Medium came-to, breathing and struggling. Said he\n had been under _very_ deep--like coming-to after an\n an\u00e6sthetic.)\n\n * * * * *\n\nNOTE BY O. J. L.\n\nLady Lodge impressed me considerably with the genuine and deeply\naffecting character of the above episode of personal control. It was\nevidently difficult to get over for the rest of the day. I doubt\nif the bare record conveys much: though it may to people of like\nexperience.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nGENERAL REMARKS ON CONVERSATIONAL REPORTS AND ON CROSS-CORRESPONDENCES\n\n\nIt may be asked why I report so much of what may be called ordinary\nconversation, instead of abbreviating and concentrating on specific\ninstances and definite statements of fact. I reply:--\n\n1. That a concentrated version is hard to read, while a fuller\nversion is really less tedious in spite of its greater length. A\nrecord is always a poor substitute for actual experience; and too\nmuch abbreviation might destroy whatever relic of human interest the\nrecords possess.\n\n2. That abbreviation runs the risk of garbling and amending; it is\nundesirable in reports of this kind to amend style at the expense of\naccuracy.\n\n3. That the mannerisms and eccentricities of a 'control' (or\nsecondary personality) are interesting, and may be instructive; at\nany rate they exhibit to a novice the kind of thing to be expected.\n\n4. A number of inquiries want to know--and I think properly want to\nknow--what a sitting is like, what kind of subjects are talked about,\nwhat the 'communicators'--_i.e._ the hypothetical personalities who\nsend messages through the 'control'--have to say about their own\nfeelings and interests and state of existence generally. Hence,\nhowever the record be interpreted, it seems better to quote some\nspecimens fully.\n\n5. I am aware that some of the records may appear absurd. Especially\nabsurd will appear the free-and-easy statements, quoted later, about\nthe nature of things 'on the other side,'--the kind of assertions\nwhich are not only unevidential but unverifiable, and which we\nusually either discourage or suppress. I have stated elsewhere my\nown reasons for occasionally encouraging statements of this kind\nand quoting them as they stand. (See beginning of Chapter XVI.) And\nthough I admit that to publish them is probably indiscreet, I still\nthink that the evidence, such as it is, ought to be presented as a\nwhole.\n\n6. The most evidential class of utterance, what we call\ncross-correspondence, is not overlooked; and while every now and then\nit occurs naturally and spontaneously, sometimes an effort is made to\nobtain it.\n\nNOTE ABOUT THE MEANING OF CROSS-CORRESPONDENCE\n\n It will be convenient to explain that by the term\n \"Cross-correspondence\" is meant the obtaining through two\n or more independent mediums, at about the same time, a\n message from a single communicator on any one definite\n subject.\n\n It is usually impossible for the coincidence of time to\n be exact, because both mediums may not be sitting at the\n same time. But in some cases, wherein coincidence of\n subject is well marked, coincidence in time is of little\n moment; always provided that the subject is really an\n out-of-the-way or far-fetched one, and not one common to\n every English-speaking person, like Kitchener or Roberts\n or Jellicoe.\n\n Cross-correspondences are of various grades. The simplest\n kind is when two mediums both use the same exceptional\n word, or both refer to the same non-public event, without\n any normal reason that can be assigned. Another variety is\n when, say, three mediums refer to one and the same idea\n in different terms,--employing, for instance, different\n languages, like 'mors,' 'death,' and 'thanatos.' (See\n _Proc._, S.P.R., xxii, 295-304.) Another is when the\n idea is thoroughly masked and brought in only by some\n quotation--perhaps by a quotation the special significance\n of which is unknown to the medium who reproduces it,\n and is only detected and interpreted by a subsequent\n investigator to whom all the records are submitted.\n Sometimes a quotation is maltreated, evidently with\n intention, by the communicator; the important word to\n which attention is being directed being either omitted or\n changed.\n\n A large number of examples of this more complex kind\n of cross-correspondence are reported at length in the\n _Proceedings_ of the Society for Psychical Research; see\n especially vol. xxi. p. 369 and xxii. _passim_, or a\n briefer statement in _Survival of Man_, chap. xxv.\n\n Some of these instances as expounded by Mr. Piddington may\n seem extraordinarily complicated and purposely concealed.\n That is admitted. They are specially designed to eliminate\n the possibility of unintended and unconscious telepathy\n direct from one medium to another, and to throw the\n investigator back on what is\n\n asserted to be the truth, namely that the mind of one\n single communicator, or the combined mind of a group\n of communicators,--all men of letters,--is sending\n carefully designed messages through different channels,\n in order to prove primarily the reality of the operating\n intelligence, and incidentally the genuineness of the\n mediums who are capable of receiving and transmitting\n fragments of messages so worded as to appear to each of\n them separately mere meaningless jargon; though ultimately\n when all the messages are put together by a skilled person\n the meaning is luminous enough. Moreover, we are assured\n that the puzzles and hidden allusions contained in these\n messages are not more difficult than literary scholars are\n accustomed to; that, indeed, they are precisely of similar\n order.\n\n This explanation is unnecessary for the simple\n cross-correspondences (c.c.) sometimes obtained and\n reported here; but the subject itself is an important\n one, and is not always understood even by investigators,\n so I take this opportunity of referring to it in order to\n direct the attention of those who need stricter evidence\n to more profitable records.\n\n\nGENERAL NOTE\n\nReturning to the kind of family records here given, in which evidence\nis sporadic rather than systematic though none the less effective,\none of the minor points, which yet is of interest, is the appropriate\nway in which different youths greet their relatives. Thus, while Paul\ncalls his father 'Daddy' and his mother by pet names, as he used to;\nand while Raymond calls us simply 'Father' and 'Mother,' as he used to;\nanother youth named Ralph--an athlete who had fallen after splendid\nservice in the war--greeted his father, when at length that gentleman\nwas induced to attend a sitting, with the extraordinary salutation\n\"Ullo 'Erb!,\" spelt out as one word through the table; though, to\nthe astonishment of the medium, it was admitted to be consistent and\nevidential. The ease and freedom with which this Ralph managed to\ncommunicate are astonishing, and I am tempted to add as an appendix\nsome records which his family have kindly allowed me to see, but I\nrefrain, as they have nothing to do with Raymond.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\nAN O. J. L. SITTING WITH PETERS\n\n\nOn the 29th of October I had a sitting with Peters alone, unknown to\nthe family, who I felt sure were still sceptical concerning the whole\nsubject. It was arranged for, as an anonymous sitting, by my friend\nMr. J. Arthur Hill of Bradford. The things said were remarkable, and\ndistinctly pointed to clairvoyance. I am doubtful about reporting\nmore than a few lines, however. There was a great deal that might\nbe taken as encouraging and stimulating, intermixed with the more\nevidential portions. A small part of this sitting is already reported\nin Chapter III, and might now be read by anyone interested in the\nhistorical sequence.\n\nA few unimportant opening lines I think it necessary to report,\nbecause of their connexion with another sitting:--\n\n_Anonymous O. J. L. Sitting with A. Vout Peters at 15 Devereux Court,\nFleet Street, on Friday, 29 October 1915, from 10.30 to 11.45 a.m._\n\n(Sitter only spoken of as a friend of Mr. Hill)[21]\n\n PETERS.--Before we begin, I must say something: I feel\n that I have a certain fear of you, I don't know what it\n is, but you affect me in a most curious way. I must tell\n you the honest truth before I am controlled....\n\n [Whatever this may mean it corresponds with what was said\n at the previous M. F. A. L. Sitting, p. 132, though M. F.\n A. L. had sat as a friend of Mrs. Kennedy in her house,\n and I sat as a friend of Mr. Hill in Peters's room, and no\n sort of connexion was indicated between us].\n\n (Soon afterwards the medium twitched, snapped his fingers,\n and began to speak as 'Moonstone':--)\n\n \"I come to speak to you, but I must get my Medie deep;\n we get superficial control first, and then go deeper and\n deeper; with your strong personality you frighten him a\n little; I find a little fear in the medium.... You bring\n with you a tremendous amount of work and business,\" etc.\n\n Now I get a new influence: an old lady, medium height,\n rounded face; light eyes; grey hair; small nose; lips\n somewhat thin, or held together as suppressed; a lady with\n very strong will; tremendously forcible she is. She passed\n away after leading a very active life....\n\n She's a very good woman. It is not the first time she has\n come back. She tells me to tell you that they are all\n here. ALL. Because they are trying to reach out to you\n their love and sympathy at the present occasion, and they\n are thanking you both for the opportunity of getting back\n to you. \"We are trying all we can also to bring him back\n to you, to let you realise that your faith, which you\n have held as a theory\"--it is curious, but she wants me\n to say her message word for word--\"as a theory for years,\n shall be justified.\" Then she rejoices ... (and refers\n to religious matters, etc.). [This clearly suggested the\n relative whose first utterance of this kind is reported\n so long ago as 1889 in _Proc._, S.P.R., vol. vi. p. 468 &\n 470.]\n\n Now she brings up a young man from the back. I must\n explain what we mean by 'the back' some time.\n\nO. J. L.--But I understand.\n\n He is of medium height; somewhat light eyes; the face\n browned somewhat; fairly long nose; the lips a little\n full; nice teeth. He is standing pretty quiet.\n\n Look here, I know this man! And it is not\n\n the first time he has been to us. Now he smiles, 'cos I\n recsonise him [so pronounced], but he comes back very,\n very strongly. He tells me that he is pushing the door\n open wider. Now he wants me to give you a message. He is\n going to try to come down with you; because it looks to me\n as though you are travelling to-day. \"Down,\" he says. \"I\n come down with you. We will try\" (he says 'we,' not 'I'),\n \"we will try to bring our united power to prove to you\n that I am here; I and the other young man who helped me,\n and who will help me.\"\n\n [The association of Raymond with 'another young man,' and\n his intention to come 'down' with me when I travelled\n back home on the same day to meet Mrs. Kennedy there, are\n entirely appropriate.--O. J. L.]\n\n Look here, it is your boy! Because he calls you 'Father';\n not 'Pa,' nor anything, but 'Father.' [True.]\n\nO. J. L.--Yes, my son.\n\n Wait a minute; now he wants to tell me one thing: \"I am\n so glad that you took such a common-sense view of the\n subject, and that you didn't force it on mother. But you\n spoke of it as an actuality. She treated it like she\n treats all your things that she couldn't understand;\n giving you, as she always has done, the credit of being\n more clever than herself. But when I came over as I\n did, and in her despair, she came to you for help; but\n she wanted to get away from anything that you should\n influence.\"\n\n[Unfortunately, some one knocked at the door--a servant probably,\nwanted to come in and clear the room. The medium jerked and said,\n\"Tell them to go away.\" I called out, \"Can't come in now, private,\nengaged.\" Some talking continued outside for a little time--very\nlikely it was some one wanting an interview with Peters. After a time\nthe disturbance ceased. It was not very loud; the medium ignored\nit, except for the rather loud and strong knock, which certainly\nperturbed him.]\n\n Tell me where I was.\n\n(I repeated: \"She wanted to get away from anything that you should\ninfluence.\")\n\n Oh yes. He wants to say that you were quite right in\n staying away and letting her work altogether by herself.\n She was able to do better than if you had been there. You\n would have spoilt it.\n\n Your common-sense method of approaching the subject in the\n family has been the means of helping him to come back as\n he has been able to do; and had he not known what you had\n told him, then it would have been far more difficult for\n him to come back. He is very deliberate in what he says.\n He is a young man that knows what he is saying.\n\n Do you know F. W. M.?\n\nO. J. L.--Yes, I do.\n\n[The next portion, relating to Myers, has been already reported in\nChapter III; and the concluding portion, which is rather puzzling,\nshall be suppressed, as it relates to other people.]\n\nTowards the end 'Moonstone' began talking about himself, which he\ndoes in an interesting manner, and I shall perhaps give him an\nopportunity of saying more about the assumption of 'control' from his\npoint of view. Meanwhile I quote this further extract:--\n\nMOONSTONE'S' ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF\n\n Have you been suffering inside?\n\nO. J. L.--No, not that I know of.\n\n Your heart's been bleeding. You never thought you could\n love so deep. There must be more or less suffering. Even\n though you are crucified, you will arise the stronger,\n bigger, better man. But out of this suffering and\n crucifixion, oh, how you are going to help humanity! This\n is a big work. It has been prophesied. It is through the\n sufferings of humanity that humanity is reached. It must\n be through pain. Let me tell you something about myself. I\n was Yogi--do you understand?\n\nO. J. L.--Yes; a kind of hermit.\n\n I lived a selfish life: a good life, but a selfish one,\n though I didn't know it then. I isolated myself and did\n not mix with people, not even with family life. When I\n go over, I find it was a negative goodness, so then I\n wanted to help humanity, because I hadn't helped it. I\n had not taken on the sufferings even of a family man. It\n was useless. And so that is why I came back to my Medie,\n and try to bear through him the sorrows of the world. It\n is through suffering that humanity is helped. That is one\n great thing in your beautiful religion; you know what I\n mean--the sacrifice of Jesus. He demonstrated eternity,\n but to do it He must be sacrificed and taste death. So all\n who teach the high ... must tread the same path; there's\n no escaping the crucifixion, it comes in one way or\n another. And you must remember, back in the past, when the\n good things came to you, how you began to realise (?) that\n there was a spirit world and a possibility of coming back.\n Though you speak cautiously, yet possibly in your prayers\n to God you say, \"Let me suffer, let me know my cross, so\n that I can benefit humanity\"; and when you make a compact\n with the unseen world, it is kept. You have told no one\n this, but it belongs to you and to your son. Out of it\n will come much joy, much happiness to others.\n\nMr. Stead was, I understand, a friend to Peters, and how much of\nthe above is tinged by Mr. Stead's influence, I cannot say: but\nimmediately afterwards his name was mentioned, in the following way:--\n\n Flashing down the line comes a message from Mr. Stead. I\n can't help it, I must give it. He says: \"We did not see\n eye to eye; you thought I was too impetuous and too rash,\n but our conclusions are about the same now. We are pretty\n well on the level, and I have realised, even through\n mistakes, that I have reached and influenced a world that\n is suffering and sorrowing. But you have a world bigger\n and wider than mine, and your message will be bigger and\n will reach farther.\"\n\n\nSUMMARY\n\nAs far as evidence is concerned, Peters has done well at each of\nthe three sittings any member of my family has had with him since\nRaymond's death. On the whole, I think he has done as well as any\nmedium; especially as the abstention from supplying him normally with\nany identifying information has been strict.\n\nIt is true that I have not, through Peters, asked test questions\nof which the answers were unknown to me, as I did at one sitting\nwith Mrs. Leonard (Chapter IX). But the answers there given, though\nfairly good, and in my view beyond chance, were not perfect. Under\nthe circumstances I think they could hardly have been expected to be\nperfect. It was little more than a month since the death, and new\nexperiences and serious surroundings must have been crowding in upon\nthe youth, so that old semi-frivolous reminiscences were difficult\nto recall. There was, however, with Peters no single incident so\nstriking as the name 'Norman,' to me unknown and meaningless, which\nwas given in perfectly appropriate connexion through the table at\nMrs. Leonard's.\n\n [Footnote 21: Whether it be assumed that I was known or\n not, does not much matter; but I have no reason to suppose\n that I was. Rather the contrary. Peters seems barely to\n look at his sitters, and to be anxious to receive no\n normal information.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\nFIRST SITTING OF LIONEL (ANONYMOUS)\n\n\nAt length, on 17 November 1915, Raymond's brother Lionel (L. L.)\nwent to London to see if he could get an anonymous sitting with\nMrs. Leonard, without the intervention of Mrs. Kennedy or anybody.\nHe was aware that by that time the medium must have sat with dozens\nof strangers and people not in any way connected with our family,\nand fortunately he succeeded in getting admitted as a complete\nstranger. This therefore is worth reporting, and the contemporary\nrecord follows. A few portions are omitted, partly for brevity,\npartly because private, but some non-evidential and what may seem\nrather absurd statements are reproduced, for what they are worth. It\nmust be understood that Feda is speaking throughout, and that she\nis sometimes reporting in the third person, sometimes in the first,\nand sometimes speaking for herself. It is unlikely that lucidity is\nconstant all the time, and Feda may have to do some padding. She is\nquite good and fairly careful, but of course, like all controls, she\nis responsible for certain mannerisms, and in her case for childishly\nmodified names like 'Paulie,' etc. The dramatic circumstances of\na sitting will be familiar to people of experience. The record\ntries to reproduce them--probably with but poor success. And it is\nalways possible that the attempt, however conscientious, may furnish\nopportunity for ridicule, if any hostile critic thinks ridicule\nappropriate.\n\n_L. L.'s Sitting with Mrs. Leonard at her house, as a stranger, no\none else being present, 12 o'clock, Wednesday, 17 November 1915._\n\n\nINTRODUCTION BY O. J. L.\n\nLionel wrote to Mrs. Leonard at her old address in Warwick Avenue,\nfor I had forgotten that she had moved, and I had not told him her\nnew address. He wrote on plain paper from Westminster without signing\nit, saying that he would be coming at a certain time. But she did not\nget the letter; so that, when he arrived about noon on Wednesday, 17\nNovember, he arrived as a complete stranger without an appointment.\nHe had at first gone to the wrong house and been redirected. Mrs.\nLeonard answered the door. She took him in at once when he said\nhe wanted a sitting. She drew the blind down, and lit a red lamp\nas usual. She told him that she was controlled by 'Feda.' Very\nquickly--in about two minutes--the trance began, and Feda spoke.\n\nHere follows his record:--\n\n\nREPORT BY L. L.\n\n_Subsequent annotations, in square brackets, are by O. J. L._\n\n Good morning!\n\n Why, you are psychic yourself!\n\nL. L.--I didn't know I was.\n\n It will come out later.\n\n There are two spirits standing by you; the elder is fully\n built up, but the younger is not clear yet.\n\n The elder is on the tall side, and well built; he has a\n beard round his chin, but no moustache.\n\n (This seemed to worry Feda, and she repeated it several times, as if\n trying to make it clear.)\n\n A beard round chin, and hair at the sides, but upper\n lip shaved. A good forehead, eyebrows heavy and rather\n straight--not arched--eyes greyish; hair thin on top, and\n grey at the sides and back. It looks as if it had been\n brown before it went grey. A fine-looking face. He is\n building up something. He suffered here before he passed\n out (medium indicating chest or stomach). Letter W is held\n up. (See photograph facing p. 258.)\n\n [This is the one that to other members of the family had\n been called Grandfather W., p. 143.]\n\n There is another spirit.\n\n Somebody is laughing.\n\n Don't joke--it is serious.\n\n (This was whispered, and sounded as if said to some one\n else, not to me.)\n\n It's a young man, about twenty-three, or might be\n twenty-five, judging only by appearance. Tall; well-built;\n not stout, well-built; brown hair, short at the sides\n and back; clean shaven; face more oval than round; nose\n not quite straight, rather rounded, and broader at the\n nostrils.\n\n (_Whispering._) Feda can't see his face.\n\n (_Then clearly._) He won't let Feda see his face; he is\n laughing.\n\n (_Whispered several times._) L, L, L.\n\n (_Then said out loud._) L. This is not his name; he puts\n it by you.\n\n (_Whispering again._) Feda knows him--Raymond.\n\n Oh, it's Raymond!\n\n (The medium here jumps about, and fidgets with her hands,\n just as a child would when pleased.)\n\n That is why he would not show his face, because Feda would\n know him.\n\n He is patting you on the shoulder hard. You can't feel it,\n but he thinks he is hitting you hard.\n\n [It seems to have been a trick of his to pat a brother on\n the shoulder gradually harder and harder till humorous\n retaliation set in.]\n\n He is very bright.\n\n This is the way it is given--it's an impression.\n\n He has been trying to come to you at home, but there has\n been some horrible mix-ups; not really horrible, but a\n muddle. He really got through to you, but other conditions\n get through there, and mixes him up.\n\n [This evidently refers to some private 'Mariemont'\n sittings, without a medium, with which neither Feda\n nor Mrs. Leonard had had anything to do. It therefore\n shows specific knowledge and is of the nature of a mild\n cross-correspondence; cf. p. 217.]\n\nL. L.--How can we improve it?\n\n He does not understand it sufficiently himself yet. Other\n spirits get in, not bad spirits, but ones that like to\n feel they are helping. The peculiar manifestations are\n not him, and it only confuses him terribly. Part of it\n was him, but when the table was careering about, it was\n not him at all. He started it, but something comes along\n stronger than himself, and he loses the control.\n\n (_Whispered._) \"Feda, can't you suggest something?\"\n\n [This seemed to be a reported part of conversation on the\n other side.]\n\n Be very firm when it starts to move about.\n\n Prayer helps when things are not relevant.\n\n He is anxious about F.\n\nL. L.--I don't know who F. is. Is it some friend?\n\n (Medium here fidgets.)\n\n Letter F. all right; it's some one he is interested in.\n\n He says he is sorry he worried his mother about [an\n incident mentioned at some previous sitting].\n\nL. L.--Was it a mistake?\n\n Yes, tell her, because (etc. etc.). When I thought it over\n I knew it was a mistake. If it had been now, and I had a\n little more experience in control, I should not have said\n so; but it was at the beginning--everything seemed such a\n rush--and I was not quite sure of what I did get through.\n He did not look at things in the right pers--perpec----\n\nL. L.--Perspective?\n\n Yes, that's what he said.\n\n Do you follow me, old chap?\n\nL. L.--Perfectly.\n\nL. L.--Do you remember a sitting at home when you told me you had a\nlot to tell me?\n\n Yes. What he principally wanted to say was about the place\n he is in. He could not _spell_ it all out--too laborious.\n He felt rather upset at first. You do not feel so real\n as people do where he is, and walls appear transparent\n to him now. The great thing that made him reconciled to\n his new surroundings was--that things appear so solid\n and substantial. The first idea upon waking up was, I\n suppose, of what they call 'passing over.' It was only\n for a second or two, as you count time, [that it seemed a]\n shadowy vague place, everything vapoury and vague. He had\n that feeling about it.\n\n The first person to meet him was Grandfather.\n\n (This was said very carefully, as if trying to get it\n right with difficulty.)\n\n And others then, some of whom he had only heard about.\n They all appeared to be so solid, that he could scarcely\n believe that he had passed over.\n\n He lives in a house--a house built of bricks--and there\n are trees and flowers, and the ground is solid. And if you\n kneel down in the mud, apparently you get your clothes\n soiled. The thing I don't understand yet is that the night\n doesn't follow the day here, as it did on the earth plane.\n It seems to get dark sometimes, when he would like it to\n be dark, but the time in between light and dark is not\n always the same. I don't know if you think all this is a\n bore.\n\n (I was here thinking whether my pencils would last out; I\n had two, and was starting on the second one.)\n\n What I am worrying round about is, how it's made, of what\n it is composed. I have not found out yet, but I've got a\n theory. It is not an original idea of my own; I was helped\n to it by words let drop here and there.\n\n People who think everything is created by thought are\n wrong. I thought that for a little time, that one's\n thoughts formed the buildings and the flowers and trees\n and solid ground; but there is more than that.\n\n He says something of this sort:--\n\n[This means that Feda is going to report in the third person again,\nor else to speak for herself.--O. J. L.]\n\n There is something always rising from the earth\n plane--something chemical in form. As it rises to ours, it\n goes through various changes and solidifies on our plane.\n Of course I am only speaking of where I am now.\n\n He feels sure that it is something given off from the\n earth, that makes the solid trees and flowers, etc.\n\n He does not know any more. He is making a study of this,\n but it takes a good long time.\n\nL. L.--I should like to know whether he can get into touch with\nanybody on earth?\n\n Not always.\n\n Only those wishing to see him, and who it would be right\n for him to see. Then he sees them before he has thought.\n\n I don't seem to wish for anything.\n\n He does not wish to see anybody unless they are going to\n be brought to him.\n\n I am told that I can meet anyone at any time that I want\n to; there is no difficulty in the way of it. That is what\n makes it such a jolly fine place to live in.\n\nL. L.--Can he help people here?\n\n That is part of his work, but there are others doing that;\n the greatest amount of his work is still at the war.\n\n I've been home--only likely I've been home--but my actual\n work is at the war.\n\n He has something to do with father, though his work still\n lies at the war, helping on poor chaps literally shot into\n the spirit world.\n\nL. L.--Can you see ahead at all?\n\n He thinks sometimes that he can, but it's not easy to\n predict.\n\n I don't think that I really know any more than when on\n earth.\n\nL. L.--Can you tell anything about how the war is going on?\n\n There are better prospects for the war. On all sides now\n more satisfactory than it has been before.\n\n This is not apparent on the earth plane, but I feel more\n ... the surface, and more satisfied than before.\n\n I can't help feeling intensely interested. I believe we\n have lost Greece, and am not sure that it was not due to\n our own fault. We have only done now what should have\n been done months ago.\n\n He does not agree about Serbia. Having left them so long\n has had a bad effect upon Roumania. Roumania thinks will\n she be in the same boat, if she joins in.\n\n All agree that Russia will do well right through the\n winter. They are going to show what they can do. They are\n used to their ground and winter conditions, and Germany\n is not. There will be steady progress right through the\n winter.\n\n I think there is something looming now.\n\n Some of the piffling things I used to be interested in,\n I have forgotten all about. There is such a lot to be\n interested in here. I realise the seriousness sometimes of\n this war.... It is like watching a most interesting race\n or game gradually developing before you. I am doing work\n in it, which is not so interesting as watching.\n\nL. L.--Have you any message for home?\n\n Of course love to his mother, and to all, specially to\n mother. H. is doing very well. [Meaning his sister Honor.]\n\nL. L.--In what way?\n\n H. is helping him in a psychic way; she makes it easy for\n him. He doesn't think he need tell father anything, he is\n so certain in himself meaning Raymond, in spite of silly\n mistakes. It disappoints him. We must separate out the\n good from the bad, and not try more than one form; not the\n jig--jig----\n\nL. L.--I know; jigger. [A kind of Ouija.]\n\n No. He didn't like the jigger. He thinks he can work the\n table. [See Chapter XIX.]\n\nL. L.--Would you tell me how I could help in any way?\n\n Just go very easily, only let one person speak, as he has\n said before. It can be H. or L. L. Settle on one person to\n put the questions, the different sound of voices confuses\n him, and he mixes it up with questions from another's\n thoughts. In time he hopes it will be not so difficult.\n He wouldn't give it up, he loves it. Don't try more than\n twice a week, perhaps only once a week. Try to keep the\n same times always, and to the same day if possible.\n\n He is going.\n\n Give my love to them all. Tell them I am very happy. Very\n well, and plenty to do, and intensely interested. I did\n suffer from shock at first, but I'm extremely happy now.\n\n I'm off. He won't say good-bye.\n\n * * * * *\n\n A lady comes too: A girl, about medium height; on the\n slender side, not thin, but slender; face, oval shape;\n blue eyes; lightish brown hair, not golden.\n\nL. L.--Can she give a name--I cannot guess who she is from the\ndescription?\n\n She builds up an L.\n\n Not like the description when she was on earth. Very\n little earth life. She is related to you. She has grown up\n in the spirit life.\n\n Oh, she is your sister!\n\n She is fair; not so tall as you; a nice face; blue eyes.\n\nL. L.--I know her name now. [See at a previous sitting where this\ndeceased sister is described, p. 159.]\n\n Give her love to them at home, but also principally to\n mother. And say that she and her brother, not Raymond,\n have been also to the sittings at home.\n\n She is giving his name. She gives it in such a funny way,\n as if she was writing, so---- She wrote an N, then quickly\n changed it into a W. [See also pp. 134, 159, and 190.]\n\n She brings lilies with her; she is singing--it's like\n humming; Feda can't hear the words.\n\n She is going too--power is going.\n\nL. L.--Give my love to her.\n\n Feda sends her love also.\n\n Raymond was having a joke by not showing his face to Feda.\n\n Good-bye.\n\n (_Sitting ended at 1.30 p.m._)\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV\n\nSITTING OF M. F. A. L. WITH MRS. LEONARD\n\n_Friday, 26 November 1915_\n\n\nA few things may be reported from a sitting which Lady Lodge had\nwith Mrs. Leonard on 26 November, however absurd they may seem. They\nare of course repeated by the childish control Feda, but I do not by\nthat statement of bare fact intend to stigmatise them in any way.\nCriticism of unverifiable utterances seems to me premature.\n\nThe sitting began without preliminaries as usual. It is not a\nparticularly good one, and the notes are rather incomplete,\nespecially near the end of the time, when Feda seemed to wander from\nthe point, and when rather tedious descriptions of people began.\nThese are omitted.\n\n\n_Sitting of M. F. A. L. with Mrs. Leonard at her house on Friday, 26\nNovember 1915, from 3 to 4.30 p.m._\n\n(No one else present.)\n\n(The sitting began with a statement from Feda that she liked Lionel,\nand that Raymond had taken her down to his home. Then she reported\nthat Raymond said:--)\n\n \"Mother darling, I am so happy, and so much more so\n because you are.\"\n\nM. F. A. L.--Yes, we are; and as your father says, we can face\nChristmas now.\n\n Raymond says he will be there.\n\nM. F. A. L.--We will put a chair for him.\n\n Yes, he will come and sit in it.\n\n He wants to strike a bargain with you. He says, \"If I\n come there, there must be no sadness. I don't want to be\n a ghost at the feast. There mustn't be one sigh. Please,\n darling, keep them in order, rally them up. Don't let\n them. If they do, I shall have the hump.\" (Feda, _sotto\n voce_.--'hump,' what he say.)\n\nM. F. A. L.--We will all drink his health and happiness.\n\n Yes, you can think I am wishing you health too.\n\nM. F. A. L.--We were interested in hearing about his clothes and\nthings; we can't think how he gets them! [The reference is to a\nsecond sitting of Lionel, not available for publication.]\n\n They are all man-u-fac-tured. [Feda stumbling over long\n words.]\n\n Can you fancy you seeing me in white robes? Mind, I\n didn't care for them at first, and I wouldn't wear them.\n Just like a fellow gone to a country where there is a\n hot climate--an ignorant fellow, not knowing what he is\n going to; it's just like that. He may make up his mind to\n wear his own clothes a little while, but he will soon be\n dressing like the natives. He was allowed to have earth\n clothes here until he got acclimatised; they let him; they\n didn't force him. I don't think I will ever be able to\n make the boys see me in white robes.\n\n Mother, don't go doing too much.\n\nM. F. A. L.--I am very strong.\n\n You think you are, but you tire yourself out too much. It\n troubles me.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Yes, but I should be quite glad to come over there, if I\ncould come quickly, even though I am so happy here, and I don't want\nto leave people.\n\n Don't you think I would be glad to have you here! If\n you do what he says, you will come over when the time\n comes--quick, sharp.\n\n He says he comes and sees you in bed. The reason for that\n is the air is so quiet then. You often go up there in the\n spirit-land while your body is asleep.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Would you like us to sit on the same night as Mrs.\nKennedy sits, or on different nights? [Meaning in trials for\ncross-correspondences.]\n\n On the same night, as it wastes less time. Besides, he\n forgets, if there is too long an interval. He wants to get\n something of the same sort to each place.\n\n William and Lily come to play with Raymond. Lily had gone\n on, but came back to be with Raymond. [These mean his\n long-deceased infant brother and sister.]\n\n (More family talk omitted.)\n\n Get some sittings soon, so as to get into full swing by\n Christmas. Tell them when they get him through, and he\n says, \"Raymond,\" tell them to go very easily, and not\n to ask too many questions. Questions want thinking out\n beforehand. They are not to talk among themselves, because\n then they get part of one thing and part of another. And\n not to say, \"No, don't ask him that,\" or he gets mixed.\n\n Do you know we sometimes have to prepare answers a little\n before we transmit them; it is a sort of mental effort to\n give answers through the table. When they say, do you ask,\n we begin to get ready to speak through the table. Write\n down a few questions and keep to them.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI\n\nO. J. L. SITTING OF DECEMBER 3\n\n_With Some Unverifiable Matter_\n\n\nAt a sitting which I had with Mrs. Leonard on 3 December 1915,\ninformation was given about the photograph--as already reported,\nChapter IV. In all these 'Feda' sittings, the remarks styled _sotto\nvoce_ represent conversation between Feda and the communicator,\nnot addressed to the sitter at all. I always try to record these\nscraps when I can overhear them; for they are often interesting, and\nsometimes better than what is subsequently reported as the result\nof the brief conversation. For she appears to be uttering under her\nbreath not only her own question or comment, but also what she is\nbeing told; and sometimes names are in that way mentioned correctly,\nwhen afterwards she muddles them. For instance, on one occasion she\nsaid _sotto voce_, \"What you say? Rowland?\" (in a clear whisper);\nand then, aloud, \"He says something like Ronald.\" Whereas in this\ncase 'Rowland' proved to be correct. The dramatically childlike\ncharacter of Feda seems to carry with it a certain amount of childish\nirresponsibility. Raymond says that he \"has to talk to her seriously\nabout it sometimes.\"\n\nA few other portions, not about the photograph, are included in\nthe record of this sitting, some of a very non-evidential and\nperhaps ridiculous kind, but I do not feel inclined to suppress\nthem. (For reasons, see Chapter XII.) Some of them are rather\namusing. Unverifiable statements have hitherto been generally\nsuppressed, in reporting Piper and other sittings; but here, in\ndeference partly to the opinion of Professor Bergson-- who when\nhe was in England urged that statements about life on the other\nside, properly studied, like travellers' tales, might ultimately\nfurnish proof more logically cogent than was possible from mere\naccess to earth memories--they are for the most part reproduced.\nI should think, myself, that they are of very varying degrees of\nvalue, and peculiarly liable to unintentional sophistication by the\nmedium. They cannot be really satisfactory, as we have no means of\nbringing them to book. The difficulty is that Feda encounters many\nsitters, and though the majority are just inquirers, taking what\ncomes and saying very little, one or two may be themselves full\nof theories, and may either intentionally or unconsciously convey\nthem to the 'control'; who may thereafter retail them as actual\ninformation, without perhaps being sure whence they were derived.\nSome books, moreover, have been published of late, purporting to give\ninformation about ill-understood things in a positive and assured\nmanner, and it is possible that the medium has read these and may be\ninfluenced by them. It will be regrettable if these books are taken\nas authoritative by people unable to judge of the scientific errors\nwhich are conspicuous in their more normal portions; and the books\nthemselves seem likely to retard the development of the subject in\nthe minds of critical persons.\n\n\n_Sitting with Mrs. Leonard at her House on Friday, 3 December 1915,\nfrom 6.10 p.m. to 8.20 p.m._\n\n(O. J. L. alone.)\n\n_This is a long record, because I took verbatim notes, but I propose\nto inflict it all upon the reader, in accordance with promise to\nreport unverifiable and possibly absurd matter, just as it comes, and\neven to encourage it._\n\nFeda soon arrived, said good evening, jerked about on the chair, and\nsqueaked or chuckled, after her manner when indicating pleasure.\nThen, without preliminaries, she spoke:--\n\n He is waiting; he's looking very pleased. He's awful\n anxious to tell you about the place where he lives; he\n doesn't understand _yet_ how it looks so solid. (Cf. p.\n 184.)\n\n (Feda, _sotto voce_.--What you say? Yes, Feda knows.) He's\n been watching lately different kinds of people what come\n over, and the different kinds of effect it has on them.\n\n Oh, it is interesting, he says--much more than on the old\n earth plane. I didn't want to leave you and mother and all\n of them, but it _is_ interesting. I wish you could come\n over for one day, and be with me here. There are times\n you do go there, but you won't remember. They have all\n been over with him at night-time, and so have you, but he\n thought it very hard you couldn't remember. If you did, he\n is told (he doesn't know it himself, but he is told this),\n the brain would scarcely bear the burden of the double\n existence, and would be unfitted for its daily duties; so\n the memory is shut out. That is the explanation given to\n him.\n\n (Feda, _sotto voce_.--What, Raymond? Al--lec, he says,\n Al--lec, Al--lec.)\n\n He keeps on saying something about Alec. He has been\n trying to get to Alec, to communicate with him; and he\n couldn't see if he made himself felt--whether he really\n got through.\n\n (The medium hitherto had been holding O. J. L.'s left\n hand; here she let go, Feda saying: He will let you have\n your own hand back.)\n\n He thought he had got into a bedroom, and that he knocked;\n but there wasn't much notice taken.\n\nO. J. L.--Alec must come here sometime.[22]\n\n Yes, he wanted to see him.\n\n And he also hopes to be able to talk to Lionel with the\n direct voice; not here, he says, but somewhere else. He is\n very anxious to speak to him. Through a chap, he says, a\n direct voice chap.\n\nO. J. L.--Very well, I will take the message.\n\n Well, he says, he wants to try once or twice. He wants\n to be able to say what he says to Feda in another way. He\n thinks he could get through in his own home sometime. He\n would much rather have it there. And he thinks that if he\n got through once or twice with direct voice, he might be\n able to do better in his own home. H. is psychic, he says,\n but he is afraid of hurting her; he doesn't want to take\n too much from her. But he really is going to get through.\n He really has got through at home; but silly spirits\n wanted to have a game. There was a strange feeling there;\n he didn't seem to know how much he was doing himself, so\n he stood aside part of the time. [Mariemont sittings are\n reported later. Chapter XIX.]\n\n _Then the photograph episode came, as reported in Chapter\n IV._\n\n Then it went on (Feda talking, of course, all the time):--\n\n He says he has been trying to go to somebody, and see\n somebody he used to know. He's not related to them, and\n the name begins with S. It's a gentleman, he says, and he\n can't remember, or can't tell Feda the name, but it begins\n with S. He was trying to get to them, but is not sure that\n he succeeded.\n\nO. J. L.--Did he want to?\n\n He says it was only curiosity; but he likes to feel that\n he can look up anybody. But he says, if they take no\n notice, I shall give up soon, only I just like to see what\n it feels like to be looking at them from where I am.\n\nO. J. L.--Does he want to say anything more about his house or his\nclothes or his body?\n\n Oh yes. He is bursting to tell you.\n\n He says, my body's very similar to the one I had before.\n I pinch myself sometimes to see if it's real, and it is,\n but it doesn't seem to hurt as much as when I pinched the\n flesh body. The internal organs don't seem constituted on\n the same lines as before. They can't be quite the same.\n But to all appearances, and outwardly, they are the same\n as before. I can move somewhat more freely, he says.\n\n Oh, there's one thing, he says, I have never seen anybody\n bleed.\n\nO. J. L.--Wouldn't he bleed if he pricked himself?\n\n He never tried it. But as yet he has seen no blood at all.\n\nO. J. L.--Has he got ears and eyes?\n\n Yes, yes, and eyelashes, and eyebrows, exactly the same,\n and a tongue and teeth. He has got a new tooth now in\n place of another one he had--one that wasn't quite right\n then. He has got it right, and a good tooth has come in\n place of the one that had gone.\n\n He knew a man that had lost his arm, but he has got\n another one. Yes, he has got two arms now. He seemed\n as if without a limb when first he entered the astral,\n seemed incomplete, but after a while it got more and more\n complete, until he got a new one. He is talking of people\n who have lost a limb for some years.\n\nO. J. L.--What about a limb lost in battle?\n\n Oh, if they have only just lost it, it makes no\n difference, it doesn't matter; they are quite all right\n when they get here. But I am told--he doesn't know this\n himself, but he has been told--that when anybody's blown\n to pieces, it takes some time for the spirit-body to\n complete itself, to gather itself all in, and to be\n complete. It dissipated a certain amount of substance\n which is undoubtedly theric, theric--etheric, and it\n has to be concentrated again. The _spirit_ isn't blown\n apart, of course,--he doesn't mean that,--but it has an\n effect upon it. He hasn't seen all this, but he has been\n inquiring because he is interested.\n\nO. J. L.--What about bodies that are burnt?\n\n Oh, if they get burnt by accident, if they know about it\n on this side, they detach the spirit first. What we call a\n spirit-doctor comes round and helps. But bodies should not\n be burnt on purpose. We have terrible trouble sometimes\n over people who are cremated too soon; they shouldn't be.\n It's a terrible thing; it has worried me. People are so\n careless. The idea seems to be--\"hurry up and get them out\n of the way now that they are dead.\" Not until seven days,\n he says. They shouldn't be cremated for seven days.\n\nO. J. L.--But what if the body goes bad?\n\n When it goes bad, the spirit is already out. If that much\n (indicating a trifle) of spirit is left in the body, it\n doesn't start mortifying. It is the action of the spirit\n on the body that keeps it from mortifying. When you speak\n about a person 'dying upwards,' it means that the spirit\n is getting ready and gradually getting out of the body.\n He saw the other day a man going to be cremated two days\n after the doctor said he was dead. When his relations on\n this side heard about it, they brought a certain doctor\n on our side, and when they saw that the spirit hadn't got\n really out of the body, they magnetised it, and helped it\n out. But there was still a cord, and it had to be severed\n rather quickly, and it gave a little shock to the spirit,\n like as if you had something amputated; but it had to be\n done. He believes it has to be done in every case. If\n the body is to be consumed by fire, it is helped out by\n spirit-doctors. He doesn't mean that a spirit-body comes\n out of its own body, but an essence comes out of the\n body--oozes out, he says, and goes into the other body\n which is being prepared. Oozes, he says, like in a string.\n String, that's what he say. Then it seems to shape itself,\n or something meets it and shapes round it. Like as if they\n met and went together, and formed a duplicate of the body\n left behind. It's all very interesting.[23]\n\n He told Lionel about his wanting a suit at first [at an\n unreported second sitting]. He never thought that they\n would be able to provide him with one.\n\nO. J. L.--Yes, I know, Lionel told us; that you wanted something\nmore like your old clothes at first, and that they didn't force you\ninto new ones, but let you begin with the old kind, until you got\naccustomed to the place (p. 189).\n\n Yes, he says, they didn't force me, but most of the people\n here wear white robes.\n\nO. J. L.--Then, can you tell any difference between men and women?\n\n There are men here, and there are women here. I don't\n think that they stand to each other quite the same as they\n did on the earth plane, but they seem to have the same\n feeling to each other, with a different expression of it.\n There don't seem to be any children born here. People are\n sent into the physical body to have children on the earth\n plane; they don't have them here. But there's a feeling of\n love between men and women here which is of a different\n quality to that between two men or two women; and husband\n and wife seem to meet differently from mother and son, or\n father and daughter. He says he doesn't want to eat now.\n But he sees some who do; he says they have to be given\n something which has all the appearance of an earth food.\n People here try to provide everything that is wanted. A\n chap came over the other day, would _would_ have a cigar.\n \"That's finished them,\" he thought. He means he thought\n they would never be able to provide that. But there are\n laboratories over here, and they manufacture all sorts of\n things in them. Not like you do, out of solid matter, but\n out of essences, and ethers, and gases. It's not the same\n as on the earth plane, but they were able to manufacture\n what looked like a cigar. He didn't try one himself,\n because he didn't care to; you know he wouldn't want\n to. But the other chap jumped at it. But when he began\n to smoke it, he didn't think so much of it; he had four\n altogether, and now he doesn't look at one.[24] They don't\n seem to get the same satisfaction out of it, so gradually\n it seems to drop from them. But when they first come they\n do want things. Some want meat, and some strong drink;\n they call for whisky sodas. Don't think I'm stretching it,\n when I tell you that they can manufacture even that. But\n when they have had one or two, they don't seem to want it\n so much--not those that are near here. He has heard of\n drunkards who want it for months and years over here, but\n he hasn't seen any. Those I have seen, he says, don't want\n it any more--like himself with his suit, he could dispense\n with it under the new conditions.\n\n He wants people to realise that it's just as natural as on\n the earth plane.\n\nO. J. L.--Raymond, you said your house was made of bricks. How can\nthat be? What are the bricks made of?\n\n That's what he hasn't found out yet. He is told by some,\n who he doesn't think would lead him astray, that they\n are made from sort of emanations from the earth. He\n says there's something rising, like atoms rising, and\n consolidating after they come; they are not solid when\n they come, but we can collect and concentrate them--I mean\n those that are with me. They appear to be bricks, and\n when I touch them, they feel like bricks; and I have seen\n granite too.\n\n There's something perpetually rising from your plane;\n practically invisible--in atoms when it leaves your\n plane--but when it comes to the ether, it gains\n certain other qualities round each atom, and by the\n time it reaches us, certain people take it in hand,\n and manufacture solid things from it. Just as you can\n manufacture solid things.\n\n All the decay that goes on on the earth plane is not lost.\n It doesn't just form manure or dust. Certain vegetable\n and decayed tissue does form manure for a time, but it\n gives off an essence or a gas, which ascends, and which\n becomes what you call a 'smell.' Everything dead has a\n smell, if you notice; and I know now that the smell is of\n actual use, because it is from that smell that we are able\n to produce duplicates of whatever form it had before it\n became a smell. Even old wood has a smell different from\n new wood; you may have to have a keen nose to detect these\n things on the earth plane.\n\n Old rags, he says (_sotto voce_.--Yes, all right, Feda\n will go back), cloth decaying and going rotten. Different\n kinds of cloth give off different smells--rotting linen\n smells different to rotting wool. You can understand how\n all this interests me. Apparently, as far as I can gather,\n the rotting wool appears to be used for making things like\n tweeds on our side. But I know I am jumping, I'm guessing\n at it. My suit I expect was made from decayed worsted on\n your side.[25]\n\n Some people here won't take this in even yet--about the\n material cause of all these things. They go talking about\n spiritual robes made of light, built by the thoughts\n on the earth plane. I don't believe it. They go about\n thinking that it is a thought robe that they're wearing,\n resulting from the spiritual life they led; and when we\n try to tell them that it is manufactured out of materials,\n they don't believe it. They say, \"No, no, it's a robe of\n light and brightness which I manufactured by thought.\"\n So we just leave it. But I don't say that they won't get\n robes quicker when they have led spiritual lives down\n there; I think they do, and that's what makes them think\n that they made the robes by their lives.\n\n You know flowers, how they decay. We have got flowers\n here; your decayed flowers flower again with us--beautiful\n flowers. Lily has helped me a lot with flowers.\n\nO. J. L.--Do you like her?\n\n Yes, but he didn't expect to see her.\n\n (Feda, _sotto voce_.--No. Raymond, you don't mean that.)\n\n Yes, he does. He says he's afraid he wasn't very polite to\n her when he met her at first; he didn't expect a grown-up\n sister there. Am I a little brother, he said, or is she\n my little sister? She calls me her little brother, but\n I have a decided impression that she should be my little\n sister.\n\n He feels a bit of a mystery: he has got a brother there he\n knows, but he says _two_.\n\n (_Sotto voce._--No, Yaymond, you can't have two. No, Feda\n doesn't understand.) Is it possible, he says, that he has\n got another brother--one that didn't live at all?\n\nO. J. L.--Yes, it is possible.\n\n But he says, no earth life at all! That's what's strange.\n I've seen some one that I am told is a brother, but I\n can't be expected to recognise him, can I? I feel somehow\n closer to Lily than I do to that one. By and by I will get\n to know him, I dare say.\n\n I'm told that I am doing very well in the short time I\n have been here. Taking to it--what he say?--duck to water,\n he say.\n\nO. J. L.--You know the earth is rolling along through space. How do\nyou keep up with it?\n\n It doesn't seem like that to him.\n\nO. J. L.--No, I suppose not. Do you see the stars?\n\n Yes, he sees the stars. The stars seem like what they did,\n only he feels closer to them. Not really closer, but they\n look clearer; not appreciably closer, he says.\n\nO. J. L.--Are they grouped the same? Do you see the Great Bear, for\ninstance?\n\n Oh, yes, he sees the Great Bear. And he sees the ch, ch,\n chariot, he says.\n\nO. J. L.--Do you mean Cassiopeia?\n\n Yes. [But I don't suppose he did.]\n\n There's one more mystery to him yet, it doesn't seem day\n and night quite by regular turns, like it did on the earth.\n\nO. J. L.--But I suppose you see the sun?\n\n Yes, he sees the sun; but it seems always about the same\n degree of warmth, he doesn't feel heat or cold where he\n is. The sun doesn't make him uncomfortably hot. That\n is not because the sun has lost its heat, but because\n he hasn't got the same body that sensed the heat. When\n he comes into contact with the earth plane, and is\n manifesting, then he feels a little cold or warm--at least\n he does when a medium is present--not when he comes in the\n ordinary way just to look round. When he sang last night,\n he felt cold for a minute or two.\n\nO. J. L.--Did he sing?\n\n Yes, he and Paulie had a scuffle. Paulie was singing\n first, and Yaymond thought he would like to sing too, so\n he chipped in at the end. He sang about three verses. It\n wasn't difficult, because there was a good deal of power\n there. Also nobody except Mrs. Kathie knew who he was, and\n so all eyes were not on him, and they were not expecting\n it, and that made it easier for him. He says it wasn't\n so difficult as keeping up a conversation; he just took\n the organs there, and materialised his own voice in her\n throat. He didn't find it very difficult, he hadn't got\n to think of anything, or collect his ideas; there was an\n easy flow of words, and he just sang. And I _did_ sing, he\n says; I thought I'd nearly killed the medium. She hadn't\n any voice at all after. When he heard himself that he had\n really got it, he had to let go. Raised the roof, he says,\n and he _did_ enjoy it!\n\n (Here Feda gave an amused chuckle with a jump and a\n squeak.)\n\n He was just practising there, Yaymond says. At first he\n thought it wouldn't be easy.\n\n [This relates to what I am told was a real occurrence at a\n private gathering; but it is not evidential.]\n\nO. J. L.--Raymond, you know you want to give me some proofs. What\nkind of proofs do you think are best? Have you talked it over with\nMr. Myers, and have you decided on the kind of proof that will be\nmost evidential?\n\n I don't know yet. I feel divided between two ways:\n One is to give you objective proof, such as simple\n materialisations and direct voice, which you can set down\n and have attested. Or else I should have to give you\n information about my different experiences here, either\n something like what I am doing now, or through the table,\n or some other way. But he doesn't know whether he will be\n able to do the two things together.\n\nO. J. L.--No, not likely, not at the same time. But you can take\nopportunities of saying more about your life there.\n\n Yes, that's why he has been collecting information. He\n does so want to encourage people to look forward to a life\n they will certainly have to enter upon, and realise that\n it is a rational life. All this that he has been giving\n you now, and that I gave to Lionel, you must sort out, and\n put in order, because I can only give it scrappily. I want\n to study things here a lot. Would you think it selfish if\n I say I wouldn't like to be back now?--I wouldn't give\n this up for anything. Don't think it selfish, or that\n I want to be away from you all. I have still got you,\n because I feel you so close, closer even. I wouldn't come\n back, I wouldn't for anything that anyone could give me.\n\n He hardly liked to put it that way to his mother.\n\n Is Alec here? (Feda looking round.)\n\nO. J. L.--No, but I hope he will be coming.\n\n Tell him not to say who he is. I did enjoy myself that\n first time that Lionel came--I could talk for hours.\n\n(O. J. L. had here looked at his watch quietly.)\n\n I could talk for hours; don't go yet.\n\n He says he thinks he was lucky when he passed on,\n because he had so many to meet him. That came, he knows\n now, through your having been in with this thing for so\n long. He wants to impress this on those that you will be\n writing for: that it makes it so much easier for them if\n they and their friends know about it beforehand. It's\n awful when they have passed over and won't believe it\n for weeks,--they just think they're dreaming. And they\n won't realise things at all sometimes. He doesn't mind\n telling you now that, just at first, when he woke up, he\n felt a little depression. But it didn't last long. He\n cast his eyes round, and soon he didn't mind. But it was\n like finding yourself in a strange place, like a strange\n city; with people you hadn't seen, or not seen for a long\n time, round you. Grandfather was with me straight away;\n and presently Robert. I got mixed up between two Roberts.\n And there's some one called Jane comes to him, who calls\n herself an aunt, he says. Jane. He's uncertain about her.\n Jane--Jennie. She calls herself an aunt; he is told to\n call her 'Aunt Jennie.' Is she my Aunt Jennie? he says.\n\nO. J. L.--No, but your mother used to call her that.\n\n [And so on, simple talk about family and friends.]\n\n He has brought that doggie again, nice doggie. A doggie\n that goes like this, and twists about (Feda indicating\n a wriggle). He has got a nice tail, not a little stumpy\n tail, nice tail with nice hair on it. He sits up like that\n sometimes, and comes down again, and puts his tongue out\n of his mouth. He's got a cat too, plenty of animals, he\n says. He hasn't seen any lions and tigers, but he sees\n horses, cats, dogs, and birds. He says you know this\n doggie; he has nice hair, a little wavy, which sticks\n up all over him, and has twists at the end. Now he's\n jumping round. He hasn't got a very pointed face, but it\n isn't like a little pug-dog either; it's rather a long\n shape. And he has nice ears what flaps, not standing up;\n nice long hairs on them too. A darkish colour he looks,\n darkish, as near as Feda can see him. [See photograph, p.\n 278.]\n\nO. J. L.--Does he call him by any name?\n\n He says, 'Not him.'\n\n (_Sotto voce._--What you mean 'not him'? It is a 'him';\n you don't call him 'it.')\n\n No, he won't explain. No, he didn't give it a name. It can\n jump.\n\n [All this about a she-dog called Curly, whose death had\n been specially mentioned by 'Myers' through another medium\n some years ago,--an incident reported privately to the\n S.P.R. at the time,--is quite good as far as it goes.]\n\n He has met a spirit here, he says, who knows you--G.\n Nothing to do with the other G. Some one that's a very\n fine sort indeed. His name begins with G--Gal, Gals, Got,\n Got,--he doesn't know him very well, but it sounds like\n that. It isn't who you feel, though it might have been,\n nothing to do with that at all. Some one called Golt--he\n didn't know him, but he is interested in you, and had met\n you.\n\n It's surprising how many people come up to me, he says,\n and shake me by the hand, and speak to me. I don't know\n them from Adam. (_Sotto voce_.--Adam, he say.) But they\n are doing me honour here, and some of them are such\n fine men. He doesn't know them, but they all seem to\n be interested in you, and they say, \"Oh, are you his\n son?--how-do-you-do?\"\n\n Feda is losing control.\n\nO. J. L.--Well, good-bye, Raymond, then, and God bless you.\n\n God bless _you_. I do so want you to know that I am very\n happy. And bless them all. My love to you. I can't tell\n what I feel, but you can guess. It's difficult to put\n into words. My love to all. God bless you and everybody.\n Good-bye, father.\n\nO. J. L.--Good-bye, Raymond. Good-bye, Feda.\n\n(Feda here gave a jerk, and a 'good-bye.')\n\n Love to her what 'longs to you, and to Lionel. Feda knows\n what your name is, 'Soliver,' yes. (Another squeak.)\n\n (_Sitting ended 8.20 p.m._)\n\nThe conclusion of sittings is seldom of an evidential character, and\nby most people would not be recorded; but occasionally it may be best\nto quote one completely, just as a specimen of what may be called the\n'manner' of a sitting.\n\n [Footnote 22: Alec had had a sitting with Peters, not with\n Mrs. Leonard.]\n\n [Footnote 23: I confess that I think that Feda may have\n got a great deal of this, perhaps all of it, from people\n who have read or written some of the books referred to\n in my introductory remarks. But inasmuch as her other\n utterances are often evidential, I feel that I have no\n right to pick and choose; _especially as I know nothing\n about it, one way or the other_.]\n\n [Footnote 24: Some of this Feda talk is at least humorous.]\n\n [Footnote 25: have not yet traced the source of all this\n supposed information.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII\n\nK. K. AUTOMATIC WRITING\n\n\nOn 17 December 1915, I was talking to Mrs. Kennedy when her hand\nbegan to write, and I had a short conversation which may be worth\nreporting:--\n\n I have been here such a long time, please tell father I am\n here--Raymond.\n\nO. J. L.--My boy!\n\n Dear father!\n\n Father, it was difficult to say all one felt, but now I\n don't care. I love you. I love you intensely. Father,\n please speak to me.\n\nO. J. L.--I recognise it, Raymond. Have you anything to say for the\nfolk at home?\n\n I have been there to-day; I spoke to mother. I don't know\n if she heard me, but I rather think so. Please tell her\n this, and kiss her from me.\n\nO. J. L.--She had a rather vivid dream or vision of you one morning\nlately. I don't know if it was a dream.\n\n I feel sure she will see me, but I don't know, because I\n am so often near her that I can't say yes or no to any\n particular time.\n\nO. J. L.--Raymond, you know it is getting near Christmas now?\n\n I know. I shall be there; keep jolly or it hurts me\n horribly. Truly, I know it is difficult, but you _must_\n know by now that I am so splendid. I shall never be one\n instant out of the house on Christmas Day. (Pause.)\n\n He has gone to fetch some one.--Paul.\n\n (This is the sort of interpolation which frequently\n happens. Paul signs his explanatory sentence.)\n\n (K. K. presently said that Raymond had returned, and\n expected me to be aware of it.)\n\n I have brought Mr. Myers. He says he doesn't often come to\n use this means, but he wants to speak for a moment.\n\n \"Get free and go on,\" he says. \"Don't let them trammel\n you. Get at it, Lodge.\"--Myers.\n\n He has gone, tell my father.\n\n(O. J. L., _sotto voce_.--What does that mean?)\n\n(K. K.--I haven't an idea.)\n\nO. J. L.--Has Myers gone right away?\n\n \"I have spoken, but I will speak again, if you keep quiet\n (meaning K. K.). Do cease to think, or you are useless.\n Tell Lodge I can't explain half his boy is to me. I feel\n as if I had my own dearly loved son here, yet I know he is\n only lent to me.\n\n \"Pardon me if I rarely use you (to K. K.); I can't stand\n the way you bother.\"--Myers.\n\nK. K.--Do you mean the way I get nervous if I am taking a message\nfrom you?\n\n \"Yes, I do.\"\n\n [This interpolated episode was commented on by O. J. L. as\n very characteristic.]\n\nO. J. L.--Is Raymond still there?\n\n Yes.\n\nO. J. L.--Raymond, do you know we've got that photograph you spoke\nof? Mrs. Cheves sent us it, the mother of Cheves--Captain Cheves, you\nremember him?\n\n Yes, I know you have the photograph.\n\nO. J. L.--Yes, and your description of it was very good. And we have\nseen the man leaning on you. Was there another one taken of you?\n\nK. K.--'Four,' he says 'four.' Did you say 'four,' Raymond?\n\n Yes, I did.\n\nO. J. L.--Yes, we have those taken of you by yourself, but was\nanother taken of you with other officers?\n\n I hear, father; I shall look, but I think you have had the\n one I want you to have; I have seen you looking at it. I\n have heard all that father has said. It is ripping to come\n like this. Tell my father I have enjoyed it.--Raymond.\n\nO. J. L.--Before you go, Raymond, I want to ask a serious question.\nHave you been let to see Christ?\n\n Father, I shall see him presently. It is not time yet. I\n am not ready. But I know he lives, and I know he comes\n here. All the sad ones see him if no one else can help\n them. Paul has seen him: you see he had such a lot of\n pain, poor chap. I am not expecting to see him yet,\n father. I shall love to when it's the time.--Raymond.\n\nO. J. L.--Well, we shall be very happy this Christmas I think.\n\n Father, tell mother she has her son with her all day on\n Christmas Day. There will be thousands and thousands of\n us back in the homes on that day, but the horrid part is\n that so many of the fellows don't get welcomed. Please\n keep a place for me. I must go now. Bless you again,\n father.--Raymond.\n\n (Paul then wrote a few words to his mother.)\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII\n\nFIRST SITTING OF ALEC WITH MRS. LEONARD\n\n\nOn 21 December 1915 Alec had his first sitting with Mrs. Leonard;\nbut he did not manage to go quite anonymously--the medium knew that\nhe was my son. Again there is a good deal of unverifiable matter,\nwhich whether absurd or not I prefer not to suppress; my reasons are\nindicated in Chapters xii and xvi Part II, and xi Part III.\n\n_Alec's (A. M. L.'s) Sitting with Mrs. Leonard at her House on\nTuesday Afternoon, 21 December 1915, 3.15 to 4.30 p.m._\n\n(Medium knows I am Sir Oliver Lodge's son.)\n\nFront room; curtains drawn; dark; small red lamp. No one else present.\n\nMrs. Leonard shook hands saying, \"Mr. Lodge?\"\n\n(Medium begins by rubbing her own hands vigorously.)\n\n Good morning! This is Feda.\n\n Raymond's here. He would have liked A _and_ B.\n\n (Feda, _sotto voce_.--What you mean, A _and_ B?)\n\n Oh, he would have liked to talk to A and B. [See Note A.]\n He says: \"I wish you could see me, I am so pleased; but\n you know I am pleased.\"\n\n He has been trying hard to get to you at home. He thinks\n he is getting closer, and better able to understand the\n conditions which govern this way of communicating. He\n thinks that in a little while he will be able to give\n actual tests at home. He knows he has got through, but\n not satisfactorily. He gets so far, and then flounders.\n\n (Feda, _sotto voce_.--That's what fishes do!)\n\n He says he is feeling splendid. He did not think it was\n possible to feel so well.\n\n He was waiting here; he knew you were coming, but thought\n you might not be able to come to-day. [Train half an hour\n late.]\n\n Did you take notice of what he said about the place he is\n in?\n\nA. M. L.--Yes. But I find it very difficult to understand.\n\n He says, it is such a solid place, I have not got over it\n yet. It is so wonderfully real.\n\n He spoke about a river to his father; he has not seen the\n sea yet. He has found water, but doesn't know whether he\n will find a sea. He is making new discoveries every day.\n So _much_ is new, although of course not to people who\n have been here some time.\n\n He went into the library with his grandfather--Grandfather\n William--and also somebody called Richard, and he says the\n books there seem to be the same as you read.\n\n Now this is extraordinary: There are books there not yet\n published on the earth plane. He is told--only told, he\n does not know if it is correct--that those books will be\n produced, books like those that are there now; that the\n matter in them will be impressed on the brain of some man,\n he supposes an author.\n\n He says that not everybody on his plane is allowed to read\n those books; they might hurt them--that is, the books not\n published yet. Father is going to write one--not the one\n on now, but a fresh one.\n\n Has his father found out who it was, beginning with G, who\n said he was going to help (meaning help Raymond) for his\n father's sake? It was not the person he thought it was at\n the time (p. 204).\n\n It is very difficult to get things through. He wants to\n keep saying how pleased he is to come.\n\n There are hundreds of things he will think of after he is\n gone.\n\n He has brought Lily, and William--the young one----\n\n (Feda, _sotto voce_.--I don't know whether it is right,\n but he appears to have two brothers.)\n\n [Two brothers as well as a sister died in extreme infancy.\n He would hardly know that, normally.--O. J. L.]\n\n A. M. L.--Feda, will you ask Raymond if he would like me\n to ask some questions?\n\n Yes, with pleasure, he says.\n\nA. M. L.--A little time ago, Raymond said he was with mother. Mother\nwould like to know if he can say what she was doing when he came? Ask\nRaymond to think it over, and see if he can remember?\n\n Yes, yes. She'd got some wool and scissors. She had a\n square piece of stuff--he is showing me this--she was\n working on the square piece of stuff. He shows me that she\n was cutting the wool with the scissors.\n\n Another time, she was in bed.\n\n She was in a big chair--dark covered----\n\n This refers to the time mentioned first. [Note B.]\n\nA. M. L.--Ask Raymond if he can remember which room she was in?\n\n (Pause.)\n\n He can't remember. He can't always see more than a corner\n of the room--it appears vapourish and shadowy.\n\n He often comes when you're in bed.\n\n He tried to call out loudly: he shouted, 'Alec, Alec!'\n but he didn't get any answer. That is what puzzles him.\n He thinks he has shouted, but apparently he has not even\n manufactured a whisper.\n\nA. M. L.--Feda, will you ask Raymond if he can remember trivial\nthings that happened, as these things often make the best tests?\n\n He says he can now and again.\n\nA. M. L.--The questions that father asked about 'Evinrude,'\n'Dartmoor,' and 'Argonauts,' are all trivial, but make good tests,\nas father knows nothing about them.\n\n Yes, Raymond quite understands. He is just as keen as you\n are to give those tests.\n\nA. M. L.--Ask Raymond if the word 'Evinrude' in connexion with a\nholiday trip reminds him of anything?\n\n Yes. (Definitely.)\n\nA. M. L.--And 'Argonauts'?\n\n Yes. (Definitely.)\n\nA. M. L.--And 'Dartmoor'?\n\n Yes. (Definitely.)\n\nA. M. L.--Well, don't answer the questions now, but if father asks\nthem again, see if you can remember anything.\n\n (While Alec was speaking, Feda was getting a message\n simultaneously:--)\n\n He says something burst.\n\n[This is excellent for Dartmoor, but I knew it.--A. M. L.]\n[Note C.]\n\nA. M. L.--Tell Raymond I am quite sure he gets things through\noccasionally, but that I think often the meaning comes through\naltered, and very often appears to be affected by the sitter. It\nappears to me that they usually get what they expect.\n\n Raymond says, \"I only wish they did!\" But in a way you are\n right. He is never able to give all he wishes. Sometimes\n only a word, which often must appear quite disconnected.\n Often the word does not come from his mind; he has no\n trace of it. Raymond says, for this reason it is a good\n thing to try, more, to come and give something definite at\n home. When you sit at the table, he feels sure that what\n he wants to say is influenced by some one at the table.\n Some one is helping him, some one at the table is guessing\n at the words. He often starts a word, but somebody\n finishes it.\n\n He asked father to let you come and not say who you were;\n he says it would have been a bit of fun.\n\nA. M. L.--Ask Raymond if he can remember any characteristic things we\nused to talk about among ourselves?\n\n Yes. He says you used to talk about cars.\n\n (Feda, _sotto voce_.--What you mean? Everybody talks about\n cars!)\n\n And singing. He used to fancy he could sing. He didn't\n sing hymns. On Thursday nights he has to sing hymns, but\n they are not in his line.\n\n [On Thursday nights I am told that a circle holds sittings\n for developing the direct voice at Mrs. Leonard's, and\n that they sing hymns. Paul and Raymond have been said to\n join in. Cf. near end of Chapter XVI, p. 201.]\n\nA. M. L.--What used he to sing?\n\n Hello--Hullalo--sounds like Hullulu--Hullulo. Something\n about 'Hottentot'; but he is going back a long way, he\n thinks. [See note in Appendix about this statement.]\n\n (Feda, _sotto voce_.--An orange lady?)\n\n He says something about an orange lady.\n\n (Feda, _sotto voce_.--Not what sold oranges?)\n\n No, of course not. He says a song extolling the virtues\n and beauties of an orange lady.\n\n[Song: \"My Orange Girl.\" Excellent. The last song he\nbought.--A. M. L.]\n\n And a funny song which starts 'MA,' but Feda can't see any\n more--like somebody's name. Also something about 'Irish\n eyes.' [See Note D.]\n\n (Feda, _sotto voce_.--Are they really songs?)\n\n Very much so.\n\n(A number of unimportant incidents were now mentioned.)\n\n He says it is somebody's birthday in January.\n\nA. M. L.--It _is_.\n\n (Feda, _sotto voce_.--What's a beano? Whose birthday?)\n\n He won't say whose birthday. He says, _He_ knows (meaning\n A.).\n\n[Raymond's own birthday, 25 Jan., was understood.]\n\n (More family talk.)\n\n Yes, he says he is going now. He says the power is getting\n thin.\n\nA. M. L.--Wish him good luck from me, Feda.\n\n Love to all of them.\n\n My love to you, old chap.\n\n Just before I go: Don't ever any of you regret my going. I\n believe I have got more to do than I could have ever done\n on the earth plane. It is only a case of waiting, and just\n meeting every one of you as you come across to him. He is\n going now. He says Willie too--young Willie. [His deceased\n brother.]\n\n (Feda, _sotto voce_.--Yes, what? Proclivities?)\n\n Oh, he is only joking.\n\n He says: Not Willie of the weary\n proplic--propensities--that's it.\n\n He is joking. Just as many jokes here as ever before.\n Even when singing hymns. When he and Paul are singing,\n they do a funny dance with their arms. (Showing a sort of\n cake-walk--moving arms up and down.)\n\n (Feda.--It's a silly dance, anyway.)\n\n Good-bye, and good luck.\n\n [Characteristic; see, for instance, a letter of his on\n page 41 above. I happen to have just seen another letter,\n to Brodie, which concludes: \"Well, good-bye, Brodie, and\n good luck.\"--O. J. L.]\n\n Yes, he is going. Yes. He is gone now, yes.\n\n Do you want to say anything to Feda?\n\nA. M. L.--Yes, thank you very much for all your help. The messages\nare sometimes difficult, but it is most important to try and give\nexactly what you hear, and nothing more, whether you understand it or\nnot.\n\n Feda understands. She only say exactly what she hear, even\n though it is double-Dutch. Don't forget to give my love to\n them all.\n\nA. M. L.--Good-bye, Feda. (Shakes hands.)\n\nMedium comes-to in about two or three minutes.\n\n (Signed) A. M. L.\n\n 21 _December_ 1915\n\n[All written out fair same evening. Part on way home, and part after\narriving, without disturbance from seeing anybody.]\n\n\nNOTES BY O. J. L. ON THE A. M. L. RECORD\n\nThis seems to have been a good average sitting; it contains a few\nsufficiently characteristic remarks, but not much evidential. What is\nsaid about songs in it, however, is rather specially good. In further\nexplanation, a few notes, embodying more particular information\nobtained by me from the family when reading the sitting over to them,\nmay now be added:--\n\n\nNOTE A\n\nThe 'A _and_ B' manifestly mean his brothers Alec and Brodie; and\nthere was a natural reason for bracketing them together, inasmuch\nas they constitute the firm Lodge Brothers, with which Raymond was\nalready to a large extent, and hoped to be still more closely,\nassociated. But there may have been a minor point in it, since\nbetween Alec and Brodie long ago, at their joint preparatory school,\nthere was a sort of joke, of which Raymond was aware, about problems\ngiven in algebra and arithmetic books: where, for instance, A buys\nso many dozen at some price, and B buys some at another price; the\nquestion being to compare their profits. Or where A does a piece of\nwork in so many days, and B does something else. It is usually not at\nall obvious, without working out, which gets the better of it, A or\nB; and Alec seems to have recognised, in the manner of saying A and\nB, some reference to old family chaff on this subject.\n\n\nNOTE B\n\nThe reference to a square piece of stuff, cut with scissors, suggests\nto his mother, not the wool-work which she is doing like everybody\nelse for soldiers, but the cutting of a circular piece out of a\nRaymond blanket that came back with his kit, for the purpose of\ncovering a round four-legged table which was subsequently used for\nsittings, in order to keep it clean without its having to be dusted\nor otherwise touched by servants. It is not distinct enough to be\nevidential, however.\n\n\nNOTE C\n\nAbout Dartmoor, \"he says something burst.\" Incidents referred to in a\nprevious sitting, when I was there alone, were the running downhill,\nclapping on brake, and swirling round corners (p. 156); but all\nthis was associated with, and partly caused by, the bursting of the\nsilencer in the night after the hilly country had been reached. And\nit was the fearful noise subsequent to the bursting of the silencer\nthat the boys had expected him to remember.\n\n\nNOTE D\n\nThe best evidential thing, however, is on p. 212--a reference to\na song of his called \"My Orange Girl.\" If the name of the song\nmerely had been given, though good enough, it would not have been\nquite so good, because the name of a song is common property. But\nthe particular mode of describing it, in such a way as to puzzle\nFeda, namely, \"an orange lady,\" making her think rather of a market\nwoman, is characteristic of Raymond--especially the sentence about\n\"extolling her virtues and beauties,\" which is not at all appropriate\nto Feda, and is exactly like Raymond. So is \"Willie of the weary\nproclivities.\"\n\nThe song \"Irish Eyes\" was also, I find, quite correct. It seems to\nhave been a comparatively recent song, which he had sung several\ntimes.\n\nAgain, the song described thus by Feda:--\n\n\"A funny song which starts Ma. But Feda can't see any more--like\nsomebody's name.\"\n\nI find that the letters M A were pronounced separately--not as a\nword. To me the MA had suggested one of those nigger songs about 'Ma\nHoney'--the kind of song which may have been indicated by the word\n'Hottentot' above. But, at a later table sitting at Mariemont, he\nwas asked what song he meant by the letters M A, and then he spelt\nout clearly the name 'Maggie.' This song was apparently unknown to\nthose at the table, but was recognised by Norah, who was in the room,\nthough not at the table, as a still more recent song of Raymond's,\nabout \"Maggie Magee.\" (See Appendix also.)\n\n\nAPPENDIX TO SITTING OF 21 DECEMBER 1915\n\n(WRITTEN 3\u00bd MONTHS LATER)\n\n(Dictated by O. J. L., 12 April 1916.)\n\nLast night the family were singing over some songs, and came across\none which is obviously the one referred to in the above sitting of\nA. M. L. with Mrs. Leonard, held nearly four months ago, of which a\nportion ran thus (just before the reference to Orange Girl):--\n\n\"A. M. L.--What used he to sing?\n\n Hello--Hullalo--sounds like Hullulu,--Hullulo. Something\n about 'Hottentot'; but he is going back a long way, he\n thinks.\"\n\nReferences to other songs known to the family followed, but this\nreference to an unknown song was vaguely remembered by the family\nas a puzzle; and it existed in A. M. L.'s mind as \"a song about\n'Honolulu,'\"--this being apparently the residual impression produced\nby the 'Hullulu' in combination with 'Hottentot'; but no Honolulu\nsong was known.\n\nA forgotten and overlooked song has now (11 April 1916) turned up,\nwhich is marked in pencil \"R. L. 3.3.4.,\" _i.e._ 3 March 1904, which\ncorresponds to his \"going back a long way\"--to a time, in fact, when\nhe was only fifteen. It is called, \"My Southern Maid\"; and although\nno word about 'Honolulu' occurs in the printed version, one of the\nverses has been altered in Raymond's writing in pencil; and that\nalteration is the following absurd introduction to a noisy chorus:--\n\n \"Any little flower from a tulip to a rose,\n If you'll be Mrs. John James Brown\n Of Hon-o-lu-la-lu-la town.\"\n\nUntil these words were sung last night, nobody seems to have\nremembered the song \"My Southern Maid,\" and there appears to be no\nreason for associating it with the word 'Honolulu' or any similar\nsound, so far as public knowledge was concerned, or apart from\nRaymond's alterations.\n\nAlec calls attention to the fact that, in answer to his question\nabout songs, no songs were mentioned which were not actually\nRaymond's songs; and that those which were mentioned were not those\nhe was expecting. Furthermore, that if he had thought of these songs\nhe would have thought of them by their ordinary titles, such as\n\"My Orange Girl\" and \"My Southern Maid\"; though the latter he had\nforgotten altogether.\n\n(A sort of disconnected sequel to this song episode occurred some\nmonths later, as reported in Chapter XXIII.)\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX\n\nPRIVATE SITTINGS AT MARIEMONT\n\n\nIt had been several times indicated that Raymond wanted to come into\nthe family circle at home, and that Honor, whom he often refers to\nas H., would be able to help him. Attempted private sittings of this\nkind were referred to by Raymond through London mediums, and he gave\ninstruction as to procedure, as already reported (pp. 160 and 190).\n\nAfter a time some messages were received, and family communications\nwithout any outside medium have gradually become easy.\n\nRecords were at first carefully kept, but I do not report them,\nbecause clearly it is difficult to regard anything thus got as\nevidential. At the same time, the naturalness of the whole, and the\nready way in which family jokes were entered into and each new-comer\nrecognised and welcomed appropriately, were very striking. A few\nincidents, moreover, were really of an evidential character, and\nthese must be reported in due course.\n\nBut occasionally the table got rather rampageous and had to be\nquieted down. Sometimes, indeed, both the table and things like\nflower-pots got broken. After these more violent occasions, Raymond\nvolunteered the explanation, through mediums in London, that he\ncouldn't always control it, and that there was a certain amount of\nskylarking, not on our side, which he tried to prevent (see pp.\n182, 194 and 273); though in certain of the surprising mechanical\ndemonstrations, and, so to speak, tricks, which certainly seemed\nbeyond the normal power of anyone touching the table, he appeared to\nbe decidedly interested, and was represented as desirous of repeating\na few of the more remarkable ones for my edification.\n\nI do not, however, propose to report in this book concerning any\npurely physical phenomena. They require a more thorough treatment.\nSuffice it to say that the movements were not only intelligent, but\nwere sometimes, though very seldom, such as apparently could not be\naccomplished by any normal application of muscular force, however\nunconsciously such force might be exerted by anyone--it might only be\na single person--left in contact with the table.\n\nA family sitting with no medium present is quite different from one\nheld with a professional or indeed any outside medium. Information is\nfreely given about the doings of the family; and the general air is\nthat of a family conversation; because, of course, in fact, no one\nbut the family is present.\n\nAt any kind of sitting the conversation is rather one-sided, but\nwhereas with a medium the sitter is reticent, and the communicator\nis left to do nearly all the talking, in a family group the sitters\nare sometimes voluble; while the ostensible control only occasionally\ntakes the trouble to spell out a sentence, most of his activity\nconsisting in affirmation and negation and rather effective dumb show.\n\nI am reluctant to print a specimen of these domestic chats, though it\nseems necessary to give some account of them.\n\nOn Christmas Day, 1915, the family had a long table sitting. It was a\nfriendly and jovial meeting, with plenty of old songs interspersed,\nwhich he seemed thoroughly to enjoy and, as it were, 'conduct';\nbut for publication I think it will be better to select something\nshorter, and I find a description written by one to whom such things\nwere quite new except by report--a lady who had been governess in the\nfamily for many years, when even the elder children were small, and\nlong before Raymond was born. This lady, Miss F. A. Wood, commonly\ncalled 'Woodie' from old times, happened to be staying on a visit\nto Mariemont in March 1916, and was present at two or three of the\nfamily sittings. She was much interested in her first experience,\nand wrote an account immediately afterwards, which, as realistically\ngiving the impression of a witness, I have obtained her permission to\ncopy here.\n\nAt this date the room was usually considerably darkened for a\nsitting; but even partial darkness was unnecessary, and was soon\nafterwards dispensed with, especially as it interfered with easy\nreading of music at the piano.\n\n\n_Table Sitting in the Drawing-room at Mariemont, Thursday, 2 March\n1916, about 6 p.m._\n\n_Sitters_--LADY LODGE, NORAH, and WOODIE; later, HONOR\n\n_Report by Miss F. A. Wood_\n\nAs it was the first time that I had ever been at a sitting of any\nkind, I shall put down the details as fully as I can remember them.\n\nThe only light in the room was from the gas-fire, a large one,\nso that we could see each other and things in the room fairly\ndistinctly; the table used at this time was a rather small octagonal\none, though weighty for its size, with strong centre stem, supported\non three short legs, top like a chess-board. Lady Lodge sat with\nher back to window looking on to drive, Norah with back to windows\nlooking on to tennis-lawn, and I, Woodie, had my back to the sofa.\n\nAs we were about to sit down, Lady Lodge said: \"We always say a\nlittle prayer first.\"\n\nI had hoped that she intended to pray aloud for us all, but she did\nit silently, so I did the same, having been upstairs before and done\nthis also.\n\nFor some time nothing whatever happened. I only felt that the table\nwas keeping my hands extremely cold.\n\nAfter about half an hour, Lady Lodge said: \"I don't think that anyone\nis coming to-night; we will wait just a little longer, and then go.\"\n\nLADY LODGE.--Is anyone here to-night to speak to us? Do come if you\ncan, because we want to show Woodie what a sitting is like. Raymond,\ndear, do you think you could come to us?\n\n (No answer.)\n\n During the half-hour before Lady Lodge asked any questions I had felt\nevery now and then a curious tingling in my hands and fingers, and\nthen a much stronger drawing sort of feeling through my hands and\narms, which caused the table to have a strange intermittent trembling\nsort of feeling, though it was not a movement of the _whole_ table.\nAnother 'feeling' was as if a 'bubble' of the table came up, and\ntapped gently on the palm of my left hand. At first I only felt it\nonce; after a short interval three times; then a little later about\ntwelve times. And once (I shall not be able to explain this) I felt\nrather than heard a faint tap in the centre of the table (away from\npeople's hands).\n\nNearly every time I felt these queer movements Lady Lodge asked, \"Did\nyou move, Woodie?\" I had certainly not done so consciously, and said\nso, and while I was feeling that 'drawing' feeling through hands and\narms, I said nothing myself, till Lady Lodge and Norah both said,\n\"What _is_ the table doing? It has never done like this before.\" Then\nI told of my strange feelings in hands and arms, etc. Lady Lodge said\nit must be due to nerves, or muscles, or something of the sort. These\nstrange feelings did not last long at a time, and generally, but not\nalways, they came after Lady Lodge had asked questions (to some one\non the other side).\n\nAfter a bit, when the 'feelings' had gone from me at least, Lady\nLodge suggested Norah's going for Honor, who came, but said on first\nsitting down that the table felt dead, and she did not think that\nanyone was there.\n\nLADY L.--Is anyone coming? We should be so pleased if anyone could;\nwe have been sitting here some time very patiently.\n\nNothing happened for a bit, and Lady Lodge said, \"I don't think it is\nany good.\"\n\nBut I said, \"Oh, do wait a little longer, that tingling feeling is\ncoming back again.\"\n\nAnd Honor said, \"Yes, I think there is something.\"\n\nAnd then the table began to move, and Lady Lodge asked:--\n\nLADY L.--Raymond, darling, is that you?\n\n (The table rocked three times.)\n\nLADY L.--That is good of you, because Woodie did so want you to come.\n\n (The table rocked to and fro with a pleased motion, most\n difficult to express on paper.)\n\nWOODIE.--Do you think that I have any power?\n\n NO.\n\n [Personally, I do not feel so sure of this. After\n the sitting and during it, I felt there might be a\n possibility.--Woodie.]\n\nLADY L.--Lorna has gone to nurse the soldiers, night duty. They are\ntyphoid patients, and I do not like it. Do you think it will do her\nany harm?\n\n NO.\n\nLADY L.--Do you like her doing this?\n\n YES.\n\nLADY L.--You are rocking like a rocking-horse. Do you remember the\nrocking-horse at Newcastle?\n\n YES.\n\nLADY L.--Can you give its name? (They went through the alphabet, and\nit spelt out:--)\n\n PRINCE.\n\n [It used to be called Archer Prince.]\n\n (Soon after this the table began to show signs of\n restlessness, and Honor said: \"I expect he wants to send a\n message.\" So Lady Lodge said:--)\n\nLADY L.--Do you want to send a message?\n\n YES.\n\nHONOR.--Well, we're all ready; start away.\n\n YOURLOVETOMYRTYPEKILL.\n\nHONOR.--Raymond, that is wrong, isn't it? Was \"Your love to my\" right?\n\n YES.\n\nHONOR.--Very well, we will start from there.\n\n (The message then ran:--\n\n YOUR LOVE TO MY LITTLE SISTER.\n\nBefore the whole of 'sister' was made out, he showed great delight;\nand when the message was repeated to him in full to see if it was\nright, he was so pleased, and showed it so vigorously, that _he_, and\nwe, all laughed together.\n\nI could never have believed how real the feeling would be of his\npresence amongst us.)\n\nLADY L.--Do you mean Lily?\n\n YES.\n\nLADY L.--Is she here?\n\n YES.\n\nLADY L.--Are you here in the room?\n\n YES.\n\nLADY L.--Can Lily see us?\n\n NO.\n\nLADY L.--Lily, darling, your mother does love you so dearly. I have\nwanted to send you my love. I shall come to see you some time, and\nthen we shall be so happy, my dear, dear little girl. Thank you very\nmuch for coming to help Raymond, and coming to the table sometimes,\ntill he can come himself. My love to you, darling, and to Brother\nBill, too.\n\n (Raymond seemed very pleased when Brother Bill was\n mentioned.)\n\n (The table now seemed to wish to get into Lady Lodge's\n lap, and made most caressing movements to and fro, and\n seemed as if it could not get close enough to her.\n\n Soon we realised that he was wanting to go, so we asked\n him if this was so, and he said:--)\n\n YES.\n\n (So we said 'good night' to him, and after giving two\n rather slight movements, which I gather is what he\n generally does just as he is going, we said 'good night'\n once more, and came away.)\n\n (Signed) WOODIE\n\nOne other family sitting, a still shorter one, may be quoted as a\nspecimen also; though out of place. A question asked was suggested by\nsomething reported on page 230. It appears that Miss Wood was still\nhere, but that on this occasion she was not one of those that touched\nthe table.\n\nAt this date the table generally used happened to be a chess-table\nwith centre pillar and three claw feet. After this table and another\none had got broken during the more exuberant period of these domestic\nsittings, before the power had got under control, a stronger and\nheavier round table with four legs was obtained, and employed only\nfor this purpose.\n\n\n_Table Sitting in the Drawing-Room at Mariemont, 9 p.m., Monday, 17\nApril 1916_\n\nREPORT BY M. F. A. L.\n\nMusic going on in the drawing-room at Mariemont.\n\nThe girls (four of them) and Alec singing at the piano. Woodie and\nHonor and I sitting at the other end of the room. Lionel in the large\nchair.\n\nThe Shakespeare Society was meeting in the house, and at that time\nhaving coffee in the dining-room, so O. J. L. was not with us.\n\nWoodie thought Raymond was in the room and would like to hear the\nsinging, but Honor thought it too late to begin with the table, as we\nshould shortly be going into the dining-room.\n\nHowever, I got the table ready near the piano, and Honor came to it,\nand the _instant_ she placed her hands on it, it began to rock. I put\nmy hands on too.\n\nWe asked if it was Raymond, and if he had been waiting, and he said:--\n\n YES.\n\nHe seemed to wish to listen to the music, and kept time with it\ngently. And after a song was over that he liked, he very distinctly\nand decidedly applauded.\n\nLionel came (I think at Raymond's request) and sat at the table with\nus. It was determined to edge itself close to the piano, though we\nsaid we must pull it back, and did so. But it would go there, and\nthumped Barbie, who was playing the piano, in time to the music. Alec\ntook one of the black satin cushions and held it against her as a\nbuffer. The table continued to bang, and made a little hole in the\ncushion.\n\nIt then edged itself along the floor, where for a minute or two it\ncould make a sound on the boards beyond the carpet. Then it seemed to\nbe feeling about with one foot (it has three).\n\nIt found a corner of the skirting board, where it could lodge one\nfoot about 6 inches from the ground. It then raised the other three\nlevel with it, in the air; and this it did many times, seeming\ndelighted with its new trick.\n\nIt then laid itself down on the ground, and we asked if we should\nhelp it and lift it up, but it banged a\n\n NO\n\non the floor, and raised itself a little several times without having\nthe strength to get up. It lifted itself quite a foot from the\nground, and was again asked if we might not lift it, but it again\nbanged once for\n\n NO.\n\nBut Lionel then said:--\n\nLIONEL.--Well, Pat, my hand is in a most uncomfortable position;\nwon't you let me put the table up?\n\n It at once banged three times for\n\n YES.\n\n So we raised it.\n\n I then said:--\n\nM. F. A. L.--Raymond, I want to ask you a question as a test: What is\nthe name of the sphere on which you are living?\n\n[I did this, because others beside Raymond have said, through Mrs.\nLeonard, that they were living on the third sphere, and that it\nwas called 'Summerland,' so I thought it might be an idea of the\nmedium's.[26] I don't much like these 'sphere' messages, and don't\nknow whether they mean anything; but I assume that 'sphere' may mean\ncondition, or state of development.]\n\nWe took the alphabet, and the answer came at once:--\n\n SUMMERRLODGE.\n\nWe asked, after the second R, if there was not some mistake; and\nagain when O came, instead of the A we had expected for 'Summerland.'\n\nBut he said No.\n\nSo we went on, though I thought it was hopelessly wrong, and ceased\nto follow. I felt sure it was mere muddle.\n\nSo my surprise was the greater when the note-taker read out, 'Summer\nR. Lodge,' and I found he had signed his name to it, to show, I\nsuppose, that it was his own statement, and not Feda's.\n\n[Lorna reports that the impression made upon them was that Raymond\nknew they had been expecting one ending, and that he was amused\nat having succeeded in giving them another. They enjoyed the joke\ntogether, and the table shook as if laughing.]\n\nWe talked to him a little after this, and Alec and No\u00ebl put their\nhands on the table, and we said good night.\n\nIt is only necessary to add that the mechanical movements here\ndescribed are _not_ among those which, on page 218, I referred to\nas physically unable to be done by muscular effort on the part of\nanyone whose hands are only on the table top. I am not in this book\ndescribing any cases of that sort. Whatever was the cause of the\nabove mechanical trick movements, which were repeated on a subsequent\noccasion for my observation, the circumstances were not strictly\nevidential. I ought to say, however, that most certainly I am sure\nthat no _conscious_ effort was employed by anyone present.\n\n[Illustration: MARIEMONT]\n\n[Illustration: RAYMOND AND BRODIE WITH THE PIGEONS AT MARIEMONT]\n\n\nWARNING\n\nIt may be well to give a word of warning to those who find that they\npossess any unusual power in the psychic direction, and to counsel\nregulated moderation in its use. Every power can be abused, and even\nthe simple faculty of automatic writing can with the best intentions\nbe misapplied. Self-control is more important than any other form of\ncontrol, and whoever possesses the power of receiving communications\nin any form should see to it that he remains master of the situation.\nTo give up your own judgement and depend solely on adventitious\naid is a grave blunder, and may in the long run have disastrous\nconsequences. Moderation and common sense are required in those who\ntry to utilise powers which neither they nor any fully understand,\nand a dominating occupation in mundane affairs is a wholesome\nsafeguard.\n\n [Footnote 26: The statement will be found on page 230, in\n the record of a sitting preceding this in date.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX\n\nA FEW MORE RECORDS, WITH SOME UNVERIFIABLE MATTER\n\n\nAfter Christmas I had proposed to drop the historical order and make\nselections as convenient, but I find that sequence must to some\nextent be maintained, because of the inter-locking of sittings with\ndifferent mediums and development generally. I shall, however, only\npreserve historical order so far as it turns out useful or relevant,\nand will content myself with reporting that on 3 January 1916\nRaymond's eldest sister, Violet (the one married to the 'Rowland'\nthat he mentioned through Feda), had a good sitting with him, and\nwas not only recognised easily, but knowledge was shown of much that\nshe had been doing, and of what she was immediately planning to do.\nReference was also made by Raymond to what he called his special room\nin her house (p. 45); and, later, he said that that room was bare of\nfurniture, which it was.\n\nAnd at some of the sittings now, deceased friends, not relatives,\nwere brought by Raymond, and gave notable evidence both to us and\nto other people; especially to parents in some cases, to widows in\nothers; some of which may perhaps be partially reported hereafter.\n\nI propose now to pass on to some unverifiable matter (see Chapters\nXII and XVI), and especially to a strange and striking sitting which\nLady Lodge had with Mrs. Leonard on 4 February 1916.\n\nThis may as well be reported almost in full, in spite of unimportant\nand introductory portions, since it seems fairer to give the context,\nespecially of unverifiable matter. But I feel bound to say that\nthere is divergence of opinion as to whether this particular record\nought to be published or not. I can only say that I recognise the\nresponsibility, and hope that I am right in partially accepting it.\n\n\n_Non-Evidential Sitting of M. F. A. L. with Mrs. Leonard at her House\non Friday, 4 February 1916, from 8.30 p.m. to 11.10 p.m._\n\n(M. F. A. L. alone.)\n\n Feda.--Oh, it's Miss Olive!\n\nM. F. A. L.--So glad to meet you, Feda!\n\n Feda love you and Soliver best of all. SLionel and SAlec\n too she love very much.\n\n Yaymond is here. He has been all over the place with\n Paulie, to all sorts of places to the mediums, to try and\n get poor boys into touch with their mothers. Some are very\n jealous of those who succeed. They try to get to their\n mothers, and they can't--they are shut out. They make me\n feel as though I could cry to see them. We explain that\n their mothers and fathers don't know about communicating.\n They say, why don't they all go to mediums?\n\n Yaymond say, it makes me wonder too.\n\n He say, he was telling Feda, it was awful funny the things\n some of them did--it has a funny side, going to see the\n mediums. You see, Paul and he couldn't help having a joke;\n they are boys themselves, laughing over funny things.\n\n He says he was listening to Paul, and he was describing\n the drawing-room at home. (A good description was now\n given of the drawing-room at Mariemont, which the medium\n had never seen.)\n\n Feda sees flowers; they're Feda's, not Gladys's.\n\n [M. F. A. L. had brought flowers for Mrs. Leonard.]\n\nM. F. A. L.--Don't you have flowers, then?\n\n Yes, lots of flowers. But Feda like to have them in\n Gladys's room. [Apparently this must be Mrs. Leonard's\n name.]\n\n There's a lot in prayer. Prayer keeps out evil things,\n and keeps nice clean conditions. Raymond says, keeps out\n devils.\n\n Mother, I don't want to talk about material things, but\n to satisfy anxiety. I was very uneasy on Monday night. I\n tried to come near, but there was a band round me. We were\n all there.\n\nM. F. A. L.--The Zeppelins did come on Monday night, but they did not\ntouch us. [We went to bed and didn't worry about them.]\n\n He says, they worked in a circular way, east and south of\n you. Awful! He hoped it wouldn't upset you; he didn't want\n them to come too close. I know you're not nervous, but I\n fear for you. If he'd been on the earth plane, he'd have\n been flying home. He says _New Street_ was the mark.\n\n Some one called 'M.' sent you a message through Mrs. F.\n (?), and wanted her dearest love given. She's had to be\n away rather from the earth plane for some time, but he\n actually has seen M. several times. Conditions of war\n have brought her back. She had progressed a good way. She\n wondered if you realised it was not her will to leave you\n so long, but progression. She belongs to a higher plane.\n\n M. knew something about this before she passed on, though\n perhaps it makes it easier to be always communicating.\n\n[Some friends will know for whom this is intended--a great friend of\nour and many other children. She had had one sitting with Mrs. Piper\nat Mariemont, not a good one.--O. J. L.]\n\nHer life on the earth plane made it easier for her to go on quickly\nafter she passed out.\n\n (Feda, _sotto voce_.--What you say?)\n\n M. says, it will be a test, that she was with his father\n at a medium's, where she saw a control named Alice Anne,\n a little girl control; she didn't speak to Soliver, but\n was with him at the medium's. \"The old Scotch girl\" what\n Paulie calls her; old Scotch lady--same thing.\n\n[This is correct about a sitting with Miss McCreadie, when this 'M.'\nhad unmistakably sent messages through Miss McC.'s usual control.--\nO. J. L.]\n\n\n (_Added later_.)\n\n Some friends will be interested in this lady,--a really\n beautiful character, with initials M. N. W.,--so I record\n something that came through from Feda on a much later\n occasion--in July 1916:--\n\n Raymond's got rather a young lady with him. Not the sister\n who passed away a little baby. But she's young--she looks\n twenty-four or twenty-five. She's rather slender, rather\n pretty. Brown hair, oval face. Not awful handsome, but\n got a nice expression. She's very nice, and comes from a\n high sphere. She's able to come close to-night, but can't\n always come. Name begins with an M. And she says, \"Don't\n think that because she didn't come, she didn't want to\n come. She had to keep away for so long. It was necessary\n for her to stay away from the earth for a while, because\n she had work in high spheres for three years, and it's\n difficult for her to come through.\n\n Good, good--something about the lady, lady--two people,\n she says. Lady and good man. Feda ought to remember it--a\n lady and good man.\n\n Between them Soliver and her, Soliver and Miss Olive, and\n her. Lady and good man and M. She must have been very good\n on the earth plane, she wasn't ordinary at all. Quite\n unusual and very very good. You can tell that by what she\n looks like now.\n\n She brings a lot of flowers--pansies, not quite pansies,\n flower like a pansy, and not quite a pansy. Heartsease,\n that's what it is. She brings lots of those to you. She\n brought a lot of them when Raymond wented over there. But\n not for very long, she didn't--they wasn't wanted very\n long.\n\n\n_M. F. A. L. Record of February 4--continued_\n\n He said about some one, that she'd gone right on to a very\n high sphere indeed, as near celestial as could possibly\n be. His sister, he says--can't get her name. [He means\n Lily, presumably.] He says William had gone on too, a good\n way, but not too far to come to him. [His brother.]\n\n Those who are fond of you never go too far to come back to\n you--sometimes\n too far to communicate, never too far to meet you when\n you pass over.\n\nM. F. A. L.--That's so comforting, darling. I don't want to hold you\nback.\n\n You gravitate here to the ones you're fond of. Those\n you're not fond of, if you meet them in the\n\n street, you don't bother yourself to say 'how-do-you-do.'\n\nM. F. A. L.--There are streets, then?\n\n Yes. He was pleased to see streets and houses.\n\n At one time, I thought it might be created by one's own\n thoughts. You gravitate to a place you are fitted for.\n Mother, there's no judge and jury, you just gravitate,\n like to like.\n\n I've seen some boys pass on who had nasty ideas and vices.\n They go to a place I'm very glad I didn't have to go to,\n but it's not hell exactly. More like a reformatory--it's\n a place where you're given a chance, and when you want to\n look for something better, you're given a chance to have\n it. They gravitate together, but get so bored. Learn to\n help yourself, and immediately you'll be helped. Very like\n your world; only no unfairness, no injustice--a common law\n operating for each and every one.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Are all of the same rank and grade?\n\n Rank doesn't count as a virtue. High rank comes by being\n virtuous. Those who have been virtuous have to pass\n through lower rank to understand things. All go on to the\n astral first, just for a little.\n\n He doesn't remember being on the astral himself. He thinks\n where he is now, he's about third. Summerland--Homeland,\n some call it. It is a very happy medium. The very highest\n can come to visit you. It is just sufficiently near the\n earth plane to be able to get to those on earth. He thinks\n you have the best of it there, so far as he can see.\n\n Mother, I went to a gorgeous place the other day.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Where was it?\n\nGoodness knows!\n\n I was permitted, so that I might see what was going on in\n the Highest Sphere. Generally the High Spirits come to us.\n\n I wonder if I can tell you what it looked like!\n\n [Until the case for survival is considered established, it is thought\n improper and unwise to relate an experience of a kind which may be\n imagined, in a book dealing for the most part with evidential matter.\n So I have omitted the description here, and the brief reported\n utterance which followed. I think it fair, however, to quote the\n record so far as it refers to the youth's own feelings, because\n otherwise the picture would be incomplete and one-sided, and he might\n appear occupied only with comparatively frivolous concerns.]\n\n * * * * *\n\n I felt exalted, purified, lifted up. I was kneeling. I\n couldn't stand up, I _wanted_ to kneel.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Mother, I thrilled from head to foot. He didn't come near\n me, and I didn't feel I wanted to go near him. Didn't\n feel I ought. The Voice was like a bell. I can't tell you\n what he was dressed or robed in. All seemed a mixture of\n shining colours.\n\n No good; can you imagine what I felt like when he put\n those beautiful rays on to me? I don't know what I've\n ever done that I should have been given that wonderful\n experience. I never thought of such a thing being\n possible, not at any rate for years, and years, and years.\n No one could tell what I felt, I can't explain it.\n\n Will they understand it?\n\n I know father and you will, but I want the others to try.\n I can't put it into words.\n\n I didn't walk, I had to be taken back to Summerland, I\n don't know what happened to me. If you could faint with\n delight! Weren't those beautiful words?\n\n I've asked if Christ will go and be seen by everybody; but\n was told, \"Not quite in the same sense as you saw Him.\" I\n was told Christ was always in spirit on earth--a sort of\n projection, something like those rays, something of him in\n every one.\n\n People think he is _a_ Spirit, walking about in a\n particular place. Christ is everywhere, not as a\n personality. There _is_ a Christ, and He lives on the\n higher plane, and that is the one I was permitted to see.\n\n There was more given me in that beautiful message; I can't\n remember it all. He said the whole of it, nearly and word\n for word, of what I've given you. You see from that I'm\n given a mission to do, helping near the earth plane....\n\n Shall I tell you why I'm so glad that is my work, given me\n by the Highest Authority of all!\n\n First of all, I'm proud to do His work, no matter what it\n is; but the great thing is, I can be near you and father.\n\nM. F. A. L.--If we can only be worthy!\n\n You are both doing it, every bit you can.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Well, I'm getting to love people more than I used to do.\n\n I have learnt over here, that every one is not for you. If\n not in affinity, let them go, and be with those you _do_\n like.\n\n Mother, will they think I'm kind of puffing myself up\n or humbugging? It's so wonderful, will they be able to\n understand that it's just Raymond that's been through\n this? No Sunday school.\n\n I treasured it up to give you to-night. I put it off\n because I didn't know if I could give it in the right\n words that would make them feel like I feel--or something\n like. Isn't it a comfort? You and father think it well\n over. I didn't ask for work to be near the earth plane! I\n thought that things would be made right. But think of it\n being given me, the work I should have prayed for!\n\nM. F. A. L.--Then you're nearer?\n\n Much nearer! I was bound to be drawn (?). So beautiful to\n think, now I can _honestly_ stay near the earth plane.\n Eventually, instead of going up by degrees, I shall take,\n as Feda has been promised, a jump. And when you and father\n come, you will be on one side, and father on the other.\n We shall be a while in Summerland, just to get used to\n conditions. He says very likely we shall be wanted to\n keep an eye on the others. He means brothers and sisters.\n I can't tell you how pleased I feel--'pleased' is a poor\n word!\n\nM. F. A. L.--About what, my dear?\n\n About being very near the earth plane.\n\n I've pressed on, getting used to conditions here, and yet\n when I went into the Presence I was overawed.\n\n How can people....\n\n It made me wish, in the few seconds I was able to think\n of anything, that I had led one of the purest lives\n imaginable. If there's any little tiny thing I've ever\n done, it would stand out like a mountain. I didn't have\n much time to think, but I did feel in that few seconds....\n\n I felt when I found myself back in Summerland that I was\n _charged_ with something--some wonderful power. As if I\n could stop rivers, move mountains; and so wonderfully glad.\n\n He says, don't bother yourself about trying to like people\n you've got an antipathy for, it's waste of you. Keep love\n for those who want it, don't throw it away on those who\n don't; it's like giving things to over-fed people when\n hungry chaps are standing by.\n\n Do you know that I can feel my ideas altering, somehow.\n\n I feel more naturally in tune with conditions very far\n removed from the earth plane; yet I like to go round with\n Paul, and have fun, and enjoy myself.\n\n After that wonderful experience, I asked some one if it\n wasn't stupid to like to have fun and go with the others.\n But they said that if you've got a work to do on the\n earth plane, you're not to have all the black side, you\n are allowed to have the lighter side too, sunshine and\n shadow. One throws the other up, and makes you better able\n to judge the value of each. There are places on my sphere\n where they can listen to beautiful music when they choose.\n Everybody, even here, doesn't care for music, so it's not\n in my sphere compulsory.\n\n He likes music and singing, but wouldn't like to live in\n the middle of it always, he can go and hear it if he wants\n to, he is getting more fond of it than he was.\n\n Mr. Myers was very pleased. He says, you know it isn't\n always the parsons, not always the parsons, that go\n highest first. It isn't what you professed, it's what\n you've done. If you have not believed definitely in life\n after death, but have tried to do as much as you could,\n and led a decent life, and have left alone things you\n don't understand, that's all that's required of you.\n Considering how simple it is, you'd think everybody would\n have done it, but very few do.\n\n On our side, we expect a few years will make a great\n difference in the conditions of people on the earth plane.\n\n In five years, ever so many more will be wanting to know\n about the life to come, and how they shall live on the\n earth plane so that they shall have a pretty good life\n when they pass on. They'll do it, if only as a wise\n precaution. But the more they know, the higher lines\n people will be going on.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Did you see me reading the sitting to your father?\n\n I'm going to stop father from feeling tired. Chap with red\n feather helping. Isn't it wonderful that I can be near you\n and father?\n\n Some people ask me, are you pleased with where your body\n lies? I tell them I don't care a bit, I've no curiosity\n about my body now. It's like an old coat that I've done\n with, and hope some one will dispose of it. I don't want\n flowers on my body. Flowers in house, in Raymond's home.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Can he tell the kind of flowers I put for him on his\nbirthday?\n\n (Feda, _sotto voce_.--Try and tell Feda.)\n\n Doesn't seem able to get it.\n\n Don't think he knew. I can't get it through. Don't think I\n don't appreciate them. Sees some yellow and some white.\n\n He thinks it is some power he takes from the medium which\n makes for him a certain amount of physical sight. He can't\n see properly.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Can he tell me where I got the flowers from for his\nbirthday?\n\n (Feda, _sotto voce_.--Flowers doesn't grow now. Winter\n here!)\n\n Yes, they do. Thinks they came from home.\n\n (Feda, _sotto voce_.--Try and tell me any little thing.)\n\n He means they came from his own garden.\n\n[Yes, they did. It was yellow jasmine, cut from the garden at\nMariemont.--M. F. A. L.]\n\n Paul's worried 'cos medium talk like book. Paul calls\n Feda 'Imp.' Raymond sometimes calls Feda 'Illustrious\n One.' I think Yaymond laughing! Always pretending Feda\n very little, and that they've lost Feda, afraid of\n walking on her, but Feda pinches them sometimes, pretend\n they've trodden on Feda. But Feda just as tall as lots of\n Englishes.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Isn't Feda tired now?\n\n No.\n\nM. F. A. L.--I think Raymond must be.\n\n Well, power is going.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Anyhow, I must go. Some one perhaps of your brothers\nwill come soon.\n\n I want no heralds or flourish of trumpets, let them come\n and see if I can get through to them.\n\nM. F. A. L.--(I here said something about myself, I forget; I think\nit was about being proud.)\n\n If I see any signs, I'll take you in hand at once; it\n shall be nipped in the bud!\n\n Good night.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Do you sleep?\n\n Well, I doze.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Do you have rain?\n\n Well, you can go to a place where rain is.\n\nM. F. A. L.--Do you know that your father is having all the sittings\nbound together in a book?\n\n It will be very interesting to see how I change as I go on.\n\n Good night.\n\nNOTE BY O. J. L.\n\nIt must be remembered that all this, though reported in the first\nperson, really comes through Feda; and though her style and grammar\nimprove in the more serious portions, due allowance must be made for\nthis fact.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI\n\nTWO RATHER EVIDENTIAL SITTINGS BY O. J. L. ON 3 MARCH 1916\n\n\nOn the morning of 3 March I had a sitting in Mrs. Kennedy's house\nwith a Mrs. Clegg, a fairly elderly dame whose peculiarity is that\nshe allows direct control by the communicator more readily than most\nmediums do.\n\nMrs. Kennedy has had Mrs. Clegg two or three times to her house, and\nPaul has learnt how to control her pretty easily, and is able to make\nvery affectionate demonstrations and to talk through the organs of\nthe medium, though in rather a jerky and broken way. She accordingly\nkindly arranged an anonymous sitting for me.\n\nThe sitting began with sudden clairvoyance, which was unexpected.\nIt was a genuine though not a specially successful sitting, and\nit is worth partially reporting because of the reference to it\nwhich came afterwards through another medium, on the evening of\nthe same day; making a simple but exceptionally clear and natural\ncross-correspondence:--\n\n\n_Anonymous Sitting of O. J. L. with Mrs. Clegg_\n\nAt 11.15 a.m. on Friday, 3 March 1916, I arrived at Mrs. Kennedy's,\nwent up and talked to her in the drawing-room till nearly 11.30, when\nMrs. Clegg arrived.\n\nShe came into the room while I was seeing to the fire, spoke to Mrs.\nKennedy, and said, \"Oh, is this the gentleman that I am to sit with?\"\nShe was then given a seat in front of the fire, being asked to get\nquiet after her omnibus journey. But she had hardly seated herself\nbefore she said:--\n\n\"Oh, this room is so full of people; oh, some one so eager to come!\nI hear some one say 'Sir Oliver Lodge.' Do you know anyone of that\nname?\"\n\nI said, yes, I know him.\n\nMrs. Kennedy got up to darken the room slightly, and Mrs. Clegg\nejaculated:--\n\n\"Who is Raymond, Raymond, Raymond? He is standing close to me.\"\n\nShe was evidently going off into a trance, so we moved her chair back\nfarther from the fire, and without more preparation she went off.\n\nFor some time, however, nothing further happened, except contortions,\nstruggling to get speech, rubbings of the back as if in some pain or\ndiscomfort there, and a certain amount of gasping for breath.\n\nMrs. Kennedy came to try and help, and to give power. She knelt by\nher side and soothed her. I sat and waited.\n\nPresently the utterance was distinguished as, \"Help me, where's the\ndoctor?\"\n\nAfter a time, with K. K.'s help, the control seemed to get a little\nclearer, and the words, \"So glad; father; love to mother; so glad,\"\nfrequently repeated in an indistinct and muffled tone of voice, were\nheard, followed by, \"Love to all of them.\"\n\nNothing was put down at the time, for there seemed nothing to\nrecord--it seemed only preliminary effort; and in so far as anything\nwas said, it consisted merely of simple messages of affection,\nand indications of joy at being able to come through, and of\ndisappointment at not being able to do better. The medium, however,\nwent through a good deal of pantomime, embracing me, stroking my\narm, patting my knees, and sometimes stroking my head, sometimes\nalso throwing her arms round me and giving the impression of being\noverjoyed, but unable to speak plainly.\n\nThen other dumb show was begun. He seemed to be thinking of the\nthings in his kit, or things which had been in his possession, and\ntrying to enumerate them. He indicated that his revolver had not\ncome back, and that in his diary the last page was not written up. I\npromised to complete it.\n\nAfter a time, utterance being so difficult, I gave the medium a pad\nand pencil, and asked for writing. The writing was large and sprawly,\nsingle words: 'Captain' among them.\n\nWhile Raymond was speaking, and at intervals, the medium kept\nflopping over to one side or the other, hanging on the arm of her\nchair with head down, or else drooping forward, or with head thrown\nback--assuming various limp and wounded attitudes. Though every now\nand then she seemed to make an effort to hold herself up, and once or\ntwice crossed knees and sat up firm, with arms more or less folded.\nBut the greater part of the time she was flopping about.\n\nPresently Raymond said 'Good-bye,' and a Captain was supposed to\ncontrol. She now spoke in a vigorous martial voice, as if ordering\nthings, but saying nothing of any moment.\n\nThen he too went away, and 'Hope' appeared, who, I am told, is Mrs.\nClegg's normal control. Hope was able to talk reasonably well, and\nwhat she said I recorded for what it might be worth, but I omit\nthe record, because though it contained references to people and\nthings outside the knowledge of the medium or Mrs. Kennedy, and was\ntherefore evidential as regards the genuineness and honesty of the\nmedium, it was not otherwise worth reporting, unless much else of\nwhat was said on the same subjects by other mediums were reported too.\n\n * * * * *\n\nOn the evening of this same 3rd of March--_i.e._ later in the same\nday that I had sat with Mrs. Clegg--I went alone to Mrs. Leonard's\nhouse and had rather a remarkable sitting, at which full knowledge\nof the Clegg performance was shown. It is worthy therefore of some\ncareful attention.\n\nAfter reading this part, the above very abbreviated record of the\nClegg sitting, held some hours before in another house and other\nconditions, should again be read. I wish to call attention to the\nfollowing 3rd of March sitting as one of the best; other members of\nthe family have probably had equally good ones, but my notes are\nfuller. I hope it is fully understood that the mannerisms are Feda's\nthroughout.\n\n\n_Sitting of O. J. L. with Mrs. Leonard at her House on Friday, 3\nMarch 1916, from 9.15 p.m. to 11.15 p.m._\n\n(O. J. L. alone.)\n\nNo preliminaries to report. Feda came through quickly, jerked in the\nchair, and seemed very pleased to find me.\n\n(I asked if she had seen Raymond lately.)\n\n Oh yes, Raymond's here.\n\n He came to help Feda with the lady and gentleman--on\n Monday, Feda thinks it was. Not quite sure when. But\n there was a lady and gentleman, and he came to help; and\n Feda said, \"Go away, Raymond!\" He said, \"No, I've come to\n stay.\" He wouldn't go away, and he did help them through\n with their boy.\n\n [The reference here is to a sitting which a colleague of mine,\n Professor and Mrs. Sonnenschein, had had, unknown to me, with Mrs.\n Leonard. I learnt afterwards that the arrangements had been made\n by them in a carefully anonymous manner, the correspondence being\n conducted _via_ a friend in Darlington; so that they were only known\n to Mrs. Leonard as \"a lady and gentleman from Darlington.\" They\n had reported to me that their son Christopher had sent good and\n evidential messages, and that Raymond had turned up to help. It was\n quite appropriate for Raymond to take an interest in them and bring\n their son, since Christopher Sonnenschein had been an engineering\n fellow-student with Raymond at Birmingham. But there was no earthly\n reason, so far as Mrs. Leonard's knowledge was concerned, for him\n to put in an appearance; and indeed Feda at first told him to 'Go\n away,' until he explained that he had come to help. Hence the\n mention of Raymond, under the circumstances, was evidential.]\n\n He's only been once to help beside this, and then he said,\n Don't tell the lady he was helping. [See below.]\n\n He's been with Paulie to-day, to Paulie's mother's. He\n says he's been at Paulie's house, but not with Mrs.\n Kathie, with another lady, a medie, Feda thinks. She was\n older than this one; a new one to him.[27] He wanted\n to speak through her, but he found it was difficult.\n Paul manages it all right, he says, but _he_ finds it\n difficult. He says he started to get through, and then\n he didn't feel like himself. It's awful strange when one\n tries to control anybody. He wanted to very bad; he almost\n had them. (_Sotto voce._--What you mean, Yaymond?) He says\n he thought he almost had them. He means he nearly got\n through. Oh, he says, he's not given it up; he's going to\n try again. What worries him is that he doesn't feel like\n himself. You know, father, I might be anybody. He says, Do\n you believe that in that way, practice makes perfect?\n\nO. J. L.--Yes, I'm sure it gets easier with practice.\n\n Oh, then he'll practise dozens of times, if he thinks it\n will be any good.\n\nO. J. L.--Did he like the old woman?\n\n Oh, yes; she's a very good sort.\n\nO. J. L.--Who was there sitting?\n\n [This question itself indicates, what was the fact, that I had so\n far given no recognition to the statement that Raymond had been\n trying to control a medium on the morning of that same day. I wanted\n to take what came through, without any assistance.]\n\n He's not sure, because he didn't seem to get all properly\n into the conditions; it was like being in a kind of mist,\n in a fog. He felt he was getting hold of the lady, but he\n didn't quite know where he was. He'd got something ready\n to say, and he started to try and say it, and it seemed\n as if he didn't know where he was.\n\n [Feda reports sometimes in the third person, sometimes in the first.]\n\n What does she flop about for, father? _I_ don't want to do\n that; it bothered me rather, I didn't know if I was making\n her ill or something. Paulie said she thought it was the\n correct thing to do! But I wish she wouldn't. If she would\n only keep quiet, and let me come calmly, it would be\n much easier. Mrs. Kathie [Feda's name for Mrs. Katherine\n Kennedy] tries to help all she can, but it makes such\n a muddled condition. I might not be able to get a test\n through, even when I controlled better; I should have to\n get quite at home there, before I could give tests through\n her. He and Paulie used to joke about the old lady, but\n they don't now. Paul manages to control; he used to see\n Paulie doing it. I will try again, he says, and I will try\n again. It's worth trying a few times, then I can get my\n bearings, and I feel that what I wanted to say beforehand\n I will be able to get through.\n\n Feda has an idea that what he had saved up to say was only\n just the usual messages. He had got them ready in his\n head; he had learnt it up--just a few words. Paulie told\n him he had better do that, and then (oh, you had better\n not tell Mrs. Kathie this, for it isn't polite!)--and then\n Paulie told him to spit it out. And that's what he tried\n to do--just to say the few words that he had learnt up.\n He just wanted to say how pleased he was to see you. He\n wanted also to speak about his mother, and to bring in, if\n he could, about having talked to you through Feda. Just\n simple things like that. He had to think of simple things,\n because Paulie had told him that it was no good trying to\n think of anything in-tri-cate.\n\n [Feda always pronounces what she no doubt considers long words in a\n careful and drawnout manner.]\n\n He didn't see clearly, but he felt. He had a good idea\n that you were there, and that Mrs. Kathie was there, but\n he wasn't sure; he was all muddled up. Poor Mrs. Kathie\n was doing her best. He says, Don't change the conditions,\n if you try it again. He never quite knows whether he is\n going to have good conditions or not. He wanted to speak\n about all this. That's all about that.\n\n [This is a completely accurate reference to what had happened with\n Mrs. Clegg in the morning of the same day. Everything is properly\n and accurately represented. It is the best thing about the sitting\n perhaps, though there are many good things in it.]\n\n [The next incident concerns other people--and I usually omit\n these--but I propose to include this one.]\n\nAbout the lady he tried to help--the one that he didn't want Feda to\ntell who he was (p. 241).\n\nHe was helping through a man who had got drowned. This lady had had\nno belief nor nothing in spiritual things before. The guides brought\nher to Feda, that she might speak with a dear friend of hers. I\nhelped him, he says, and got both of his initials through to her--E.\nA.\n\nO. J. L.--Do I know these people?\n\n Yes, you write a lot to the lady.\n\n [I remembered afterwards that I had had some correspondence with a\n lady who was told at a sitting, apparently by Raymond, that I knew a\n Dr. A. She was and is a stranger, but for this curious introduction.]\n\nO. J. L.--Is A the surname?\n\n Yes, the spirit's, not the lady's. The lady doesn't know\n that he [Raymond] is telling you this. And she doesn't\n know that he helped her. He says, It's for your own use,\n father. It's given her a new outlook on life.\n\nO. J. L.--I have no idea who she is. Can you get her name?\n\n Oh yes, she's a lady called Mrs. D. [Full name given\n easily, but no doubt got from the sitter in ordinary\n course.] And before, you see, she was living a worldly\n life. She was interested in a way, but not much. She never\n tried to come into it. When she came, she thought she\n would have her fortune told. Raymond was waiting for her\n to come, and brought up the right conditions at once. The\n man was a nice man, he liked him, and he wanted to bring\n her into it. The man was fond of her. Raymond has been\n helping him a lot. He says, I can only help in a small\n way, but if you could go round and see the people just\n on the verge of learning something! I can't help them in\n a big way, but still, it's something important even what\n I can do. For every one I bring in like that lady, there\n will be a dozen coming from that.\n\nO. J. L. (still remembering nothing about these people.)--Did the man\ndrown himself?\n\n Oh no, he wented down in a boat; they nearly all wented\n down together.\n\n The lady wasn't expecting him--she nearly flopped over\n when he came.\n\nO. J. L.--Was he related to the lady?\n\n No, but he had been the biggest thing in her life. He says\n it seemed as though she must have felt something, to make\n her write to you.\n\nO. J. L.--However did Raymond know that she had written to me?\n\n Feda doesn't know. (_Sotto voce._--Tell Feda, Yaymond.)\n\n Do you believe me, father, I really can't tell you how I\n know some things. It's not through inquiry, but sometimes\n I get it just like a Marconi apparatus receives a message\n from somewhere, and doesn't know where it comes from at\n first. Sometimes I try to find out things, and I can't.\n\n [I perceived gradually that this episode related to some one\n named E. A. (unknown to me), about whom I had been told at a Feda\n sitting on Friday, 28 January 1916, Raymond seeming to want me to\n speak to E. A.'s father about him. And in a note to that sitting\n it is explained how I received a letter shortly afterwards from a\n stranger, a Mrs. D., who consulted me about informing Dr. A. of the\n appearance of his son. The whole episode is an excellent one, but it\n concerns other people, and if narrated at all must be narrated more\n fully and in another place. Suffice it to say that the son had been\n lost in tragic circumstances, and that the father is impressed by\n the singular nature of the evidence that has now been given through\n the lady--a special visit to Scotland having been made by her for\n that express purpose. She had not known the father before, but she\n found him and his house as described; and he admits the details as\n surprisingly accurate.]\n\nHere is the extract from my sitting of 28 January 1916 relating to\nthis affair:--\n\n\nEXTRACT FROM O. J. L.'S SITTING WITH MRS. LEONARD, FRIDAY, 28 JANUARY\n1916\n\n He has met somebody called E., Raymond has. He doesn't\n know who it is, but wonders if you do.\n\nO. J. L.--Is she an old lady?\n\n It's a man, he says. He was drownded. I have helped him\n a bit, at least I tried, he says. He passed on before\n Raymond did.\n\nO. J. L.--Did he drown himself?\n\n Raymond doesn't say that. His name was E. He was from\n Scotland. You will know his father.\n\n Raymond says, I have got a motive in this, father; I don't\n want to say too much, and I don't want to say too little.\n You have met E.'s father, and you will meet him again; he\n comes from Scotland. Raymond is not quite certain, but he\n thinks he is in Scotland now. His father's name begins\n with an A, so the other man is E. A. He was fighting his\n ship. Raymond thinks they was all drownded. He's older\n than Raymond. Raymond says he's a pretty dark chap. You\n know his father best, I don't know whether you knew the\n other chap at all. You have known his father for some\n years, but you don't often get a chance of meeting. I have\n got an idea that you will be hearing from him soon. Then\n you will be able to unload this onto him. They are trying\n to bring it about, that meeting with the father of E.\n\nO. J. L.--I could make a guess at the surname, but perhaps I had\nbetter not.\n\n No, don't. You know I'm not always sure of my facts. I\n know pretty well how things are, and I think I am pretty\n safe in saying that it is Scotland. He gives D. also.\n That's not a person, it's a place. Some place not far from\n it, called D., he says. It's near, not the place, where he\n lives. 'Flanked,' he calls it, 'flanked' on the other side\n by L. They never knew how E. passed on really. They know\n he was drowned, but not how it happened.\n\nOn receiving this message I felt that the case was a genuine one,\nand that I did know a Dr. A. precisely as described. And I also\ngradually remembered that he had lost a son at sea, though I did not\nknow the son. But I felt that I must wait for further particulars\nbefore broaching what might be an unpalatable subject to Dr. A.\n\n (_End of extract from 28 January 1916._)\n\nUltimately I did receive further particulars as narrated above, and\nso a month later I did go to call on the old Doctor, after the ice\nhad been broken by Mrs. D.,--who in some trepidation had made a\nspecial journey for the purpose, and then nearly came away without\nopening the subject,--and I verified the trance description of his\nhouse which Mrs. D. had received and sent me. Indeed, all the facts\nstated turned out to be true.\n\n * * * * *\n\nThe sitting of 3 March, now being reported, and interrupted by this\nquotation from a previous sitting, went on thus:--\n\n He took his mother some red roses, and he wants you to\n tell her. He took them to her from the spirit world, they\n won't materialise, but I gathered some and took them to\n her. This isn't a test, father.\n\nO. J. L.--No. Very well, you just want her to know. I will tell her.\n\n (A little talk omitted.)\n\nO. J. L.--Do you want to say anything about the other two people that\nyou helped--last Monday, I think it was? [The Sonnenscheins; still\nonly known to Mrs. Leonard as a lady and gentleman from Darlington.]\n\n No, there's nothing much to tell you about that, or about\n them. But he brought a son to them.\n\n He stood on one side so as not to take any of the power.\n He just came at first to show Feda it was all right, and\n he just came in at the end to send his love.\n\nO. J. L.--Why did he help those particular people?\n\n[I knew why, but I thought proper to ask, since from the medium's\npoint of view there was no reason at all.]\n\n He says he had to. They have been worrying about whether\n their son had suffered much pain before he passed on.\n There seems to have been some uncertainty about as to\n whether he had or not. His body wasn't recovered as soon\n as it ought to have been. But he didn't suffer much. He\n was numbed, and didn't as a matter of fact feel much. He\n throwed up his arms, and rolled down a bank place.\n\n[Christopher Sonnenschein was killed by falling down a snow mountain,\nand his body was not recovered for five days.]\n\nO. J. L.--Did you know these people before?\n\n Yes. He says, yes. But he won't tell Feda who they is.\n\nO. J. L.--Does he want to send them any message?\n\n He says nothing further has come out, except that he is\n getting on very well, and that he was pleased. You might\n tell them that he is happier now. Yes, he is, since he\n seed them.\n\n[The sitting referred to here, as having been held by a lady and\ngentleman last Monday, refers to my colleague and his wife and their\ndeceased son Christopher. Their identity had been completely masked\nby the arrangements they had made, without my knowledge. The letters\nmaking arrangements were sent round by Darlington to be posted, in\norder to cover up tracks and remove all chance of a discoverable\nconnexion with me. (See p. 240.) Hence it is interesting that Raymond\nturned up to help, for in their normal life the two youths had known\neach other.]\n\n He has been trying to help you since he saw you here last\n time. He thought that you knew that he was. He did try\n hard. He says, I helped you in such a funny way. I got\n near you and felt such a desire to help you and prevent\n you from getting tired. He was concentrating on the\n back of your head, and sort of saying to himself, and\n impressing the thought towards you: \"It's coming easy, you\n shan't get tired, the brain is going to be very receptive,\n everything is going to flow through it easily in order.\" I\n feel myself saying it all the time, and I get so close I\n nearly lean on you. To my great delight, I saw you sit up\n once, and you said: \"Ah, that's good.\" It was some little\n time back.\n\nO. J. L.--I speak to your photograph sometimes.\n\n Yes. I can speak to you without a photograph! I am often\n with you, very often.\n\n He's taking Feda into a room with a desk in it; too big\n for a desk, it must be a table. A sort of a desk, a pretty\n big one. A chair is in front of it, not a chair like that,\n a high up chair, more wooden, not woolly stuff; and the\n light is falling on to the desk; and you are sitting there\n with a pen or pencil in your hand; you aren't writing\n much, but you are looking through writing, and making\n bits of writing on it; you are not doing all the writing\n yourself, but only bits on it. Raymond is standing at the\n back of you; he isn't looking at what you are doing. [The\n description is correct.]\n\n He thought you were tired out last time you came here. He\n knows you are sometimes. He's been wanting to say to you,\n \"Leave some of it.\"\n\nO. J. L.--But there's so much to be done.\n\n Yes, he knows it isn't easy to leave it. But it would be\n better in the end if you can leave a bit, father. You are\n doing too much.\n\n You know that I am longing and dying for the day when you\n come over to me. It will be a splendid day for me. But I\n mustn't be selfish. I have got to work to keep you away\n from us, and that's not easy for me.\n\n He says that lots over here talk, and say that you will\n be doing the most wonderful work of your life through the\n war. People are ready to listen now. They had too many\n things before to let them think about them; but now it's\n the great thing to think about the after-life.\n\n I want you to know that when first I came over here, I\n thought it a bit unfair that such a lot of fellows were\n coming over in the prime of life, coming over here. But\n now he sees that for every one that came over, dozens of\n people open their eyes, and want to know where he has\n gone to. Directly they want to know, they begin to learn\n something. Some of them never stopped to think seriously\n before. \"He must be somewhere,\" they say, \"he was so full\n of life; can we find out?\" Then I see that through this,\n people are going to find out, and find out not only for\n themselves, but will pass it on to many others, and so it\n will grow.\n\n He wants to tell you that Mr. Myers says that in ten years\n from now the world will be a different place. He says that\n about fifty per cent. of the civilised portion of the\n globe will be either spiritualists, or coming into it.\n\nO. J. L.--Fifteen per cent.?\n\n Fifty, he said.\n\n Raymond says, I am no judge of that, but he isn't the only\n one that thinks it. He says, I've got a kind of theory,\n in a crude sort of way, that man has made the earth\n plane into such a hotbed of materialism and selfishness,\n that man again has to atone by sacrifices of mankind\n in the prime of their physical life. So that by that\n prime self-effacement, they will bring more spiritual\n conditions on to the earth, which will crush the spirit of\n materialism. He says that isn't how I meant to put it, but\n I've forgotten how I meant to say it.\n\nO. J. L.--Well now, Raymond, Mr. Myers sent me a message to say that\nyou had got some tests ready to get through, and that I was to give\nyou an opportunity of giving them.\n\n Oh yes, he says. But I can't get anything through about\n the Argonauts: that seems worst of anything.\n\n He's showing Feda a thing that looks like a canvas house.\n Yes, it must be a canvas house. And it looks to Feda as\n though it's on a place that seems to be open--a wide\n place. Yes, no, there's not much green showing where Feda\n can see. There's a kind of a door in it, like that. (Feda\n made some sign I didn't catch.) The canvas is sort of\n grey, quite a light colour, but not quite white. Oh yes,\n Feda feels the sound of water not far from it--ripple,\n ripple. Feda sees a boy--not Raymond--half lying, half\n sitting at the door of the tent place, and he hasn't got\n a proper coat on; he's got a shirt thing on here, and\n he's like spreaded out. It's a browny-coloured earth, not\n nice green, but sandy-coloured ground. As Feda looks at\n the land, the ground rises sharp at the back. Must have\n been made to rise, it sticks up in the air. He's showing\n it as though it should be in some photograph or picture.\n Feda got wondering about it, what it was for. It's a\n funny-shaped tent, not round, sort of lop-sided. The door\n isn't a proper door, it flops. You ought to be able to see\n a picture of this. [See photographs opposite.]\n\nO. J. L.--Has it got to do with the Argonauts?\n\n No.\n\nO. J. L.--Oh, it's not Coniston then?\n\n No.\n\nO. J. L.--Is it by the sea?\n\n Near the water, he says; he doesn't say the sea. No, he\n won't say that; he says, near water. It looks hot there.\n\nO. J. L.--Will the boys know?\n\n You will know soon about it, he says.\n\n Feda gets a feeling that there are two or three moving\n about inside that tent.\n\n O. J. L.--Is it all one chamber in the tent?\n\n He didn't say that. He was going to say, no, and then he\n stopped to think. No, I don't think it was, it was divided\n off.\n\n[Illustration: LARGE DOUBLE-COMPARTMENT TENT IN ITS FIRST FORM (1905)\n(BUILT AT MARIEMONT AND TAKEN TO WOOLACOMBE)]\n\n[Illustration: THE TENT IN ITS SECOND FORM (1906) MADE OUT OF THE\nREMAINS OF THE FIRST]\n\n[See photographs of two forms of this tent.]\n\n Now he is showing something right on top of that. Now he\n is showing Feda a yacht, a boat with white sails. Now he\n is going back to the tent again. The raised up land is at\n the back of the tent, well set back. It doesn't give an\n even sticking up, but it goes right along, with bits up\n and bits lower down.\n\n[The description could not be completely taken down, but it gave the\nimpression of a raised bank of varying height, behind an open space,\nand a tent in front of it. It quite suggested that sort of picture.]\n\n[See photograph facing p. 252.]\n\n Maps, what's that? Maps, maps, he says. He's saying\n something about maps. This is something that the boys\n will know. Poring, he says. Not pouring anything out, but\n poring over maps. Ask the boys. [See note after further\n reference to maps later in the sitting.]\n\nO. J. L.--What about that yacht with sails; did it run on the water?\n\n No. (Feda, _sotto voce_.--Oh, Raymond, don't be silly!) He\n says, no. (Feda.--It must have done!) He's showing Feda\n like a thing on land, yes, a land thing. It's standing up,\n like edgeways. A narrow thing. No it isn't water, but it\n has got nice white sails.\n\nO. J. L.--Did it go along?\n\n He says it DIDN'T! He's laughing! When he said 'didn't'\n he shouted it. Feda should have said, 'He laid peculiar\n emphasis on it.' This is for the boys.\n\nO. J. L.--Had they got to do with that thing?\n\n Yes, they will know, they will understand. Yes, he keeps\n on showing like a boat--a yacht, he calls it, a yacht.\n\n[See note below and photographs.]\n\n Now he is showing Feda some figures. Something flat, like\n a wall. Rods and things, long rods. Some have got little\n round things shaking on them, like that. And he's got\n strings, some have got strings. 'Strings' isn't the right\n word, but it will do. Smooth, strong, string-like. In the\n corner, where it's a little bit dark, some one is standing\n up and leaning against something, and a piece of stuff is\n flapping round them.\n\n Now he is saying again something about maps. He's going\n to the maps again. It isn't a little map, but it's one\n you can unfold and fold up small. And they used to go\n with their fingers along it, like that--not he only, but\n the boys. And it wasn't at home, but when they were going\n somewhere--some distance from home. And Feda gets the\n impression as though they must be looking at the map when\n it was moving. They seem to be moving smoothly along, like\n in one of those horrible trains. Feda has never been in a\n train.\n\n[The mention of folded-up maps cannot be considered important, but it\nis appropriate, because many of the boys' common reminiscences group\nround long motor drives in Devonshire and Cornwall, when they must\nfrequently have been consulting the kind of map described.]\n\n[_Note by O. J. L. on Tent and Boat._--All this about the tent and\nboat is excellent, though not outside my knowledge. The description\nof the scenery showed plainly that it was Woolacombe sands that\nwas meant--whither the family had gone in the summer for several\nyears--a wide open stretch of sand, with ground rising at the back,\nas described, and with tents along under the bank, one of which--a\nbig one--had been made by the boys. It was on wheels, it had two\nchambers with a double door, and was used for bathing by both the\nboys and girls. Quite a large affair, oblong in shape, like a small\ncottage. One night a gale carried it up to the top of the sand-hills\nand wrecked it. We saw it from the windows in the morning.\n\n[Illustration: FIRST EDITION OF THE SAND-BOAT (1906) AT WOOLACOMBE WITH\nALEC ON BOARD]\n\n[Illustration: RISING GROUND BEHIND OLDER TENTS ON WOOLACOMBE BEACH]\n\nThe boys pulled it to pieces, and made a smaller tent of the remains,\nthis time with only one chamber, and its shape was now a bit\nlop-sided. I felt in listening to the description that there was some\nhesitation in Raymond's mind as to whether he was speaking of the\nfirst or the second stage of this tent.\n\nAs for the sand-boat, it was a thing they likewise made at Mariemont,\nand carted down to Woolacombe. A kind of long narrow platform or\nplank on wheels, with a rudder and sails. At first, when it had small\nsails, it only went with a light passenger and a strong wind behind.\nBut in a second season they were more ambitious, and made bigger\nsails to it, and that season I believe it went along the sands very\nfast occasionally; but it still wouldn't sail at right angles to the\nwind as they wanted. They finally smashed the mast by sailing in a\ngale with three passengers. There had been ingenuity in making it,\nand Raymond had been particularly active over it, as he was over all\nconstructions. On the whole it was regarded as a failure, the wheels\nwere too small; and Raymond's 'DIDN'T' is quite accepted.\n\nReferences to these things were evidently some of the tests (p. 249)\nwhich he had got together for transmission to me. [See photographs.]\n\nThe rod and rings and strings, mentioned after the 'boat,' I don't\nat present understand. So far as I have ascertained, the boys don't\nunderstand, either, at present.]\n\n * * * * *\n\nI don't know whether I have got anything more that I can really call\na test. You will have to take, he says (he's laughing now)--take the\ninformation about the old lady as a test.\n\nO. J. L.--You mean what he began with? [_i.e._ about Mrs. Clegg.]\n\n Yes.\n\nO. J. L.--Well, it's a very good one.\n\n He's been trying to find somebody whose name begins with\n K. But it isn't Mrs. Kathie, it's a gentleman. He's been\n trying to find him.\n\nO. J. L.--What for?\n\n He thought his mother would be interested. There's\n something funny about this. One is in the spirit world,\n but one they believe is still on the earth plane. He\n hasn't come over yet. [One of the two referred to\n is certainly dead; the other may possibly, but very\n improbably, be a prisoner.] There's a good deal of mystery\n about this, but I'm sure he isn't actually come over yet.\n Some people think that because we are here, we have only\n to go anywhere we choose, and find out anything we like.\n But that's Tommy-rot. They are limited, but they send\n messages to each other, and what he sincerely believes is,\n that that man has not passed on.\n\nO. J. L.--Mother thinks he has, and so do his people.\n\n Yes, yes. I don't know whether it would be advisable to\n tell them anything, but I have a feeling that he isn't\n here. I have been looking for him everywhere.\n\n He keeps on building up a J. He doesn't answer when Feda\n asks what that is. He says there will be a few surprises\n for people later on.\n\nO. J. L.--Well, I take it that he wants me to understand that J. K.\nis on our side?\n\n Yes, he keeps nodding his head. Yes, in the body. Mind,\n he says, I've got a feeling--I can only call it a\n feeling--that he has been hurt, practically unconscious.\n Anyway, time will prove if I am right.\n\nO. J. L.--I hope he will continue to live, and come back.\n\n I hope so too. Except for the possible doubt about it,\n I would say tell them at once. But after all they are\n happier in thinking that he has gone over, than that he's\n in some place undergoing terrible privations.\n\n Now he's saying something carefully to Feda. He says they\n should not go by finding a stick. He wants you to put\n that down--they ought not to go by finding a stick.\n\nO. J. L.--Oh, they found a stick, did they?\n\n Yes, that's how, yes.\n\n[I clearly understood that this statement referred to a certain\nColonel, about whom there was uncertainty for months. But a funeral\nservice has now been held--an impressive one, which M. F. A. L.\nattended. On inquiry from her, I find (what I didn't know at the time\nof the sitting) that the evidence of his death is a riding-whip,\nwhich they found in the hands of an unrecognisable corpse. From\nsome initials on this riding-whip, they thought it belonged to him;\nand on this evidence have concluded him dead. So far as I know,\nthey entertain no doubt about it. At any rate, we have heard none\nexpressed, either publicly or privately. Hence, the information now\ngiven may possibly turn out of interest, though there is always\nthe possibility that, if he is a prisoner in Germany, he may not\nsurvive the treatment. He was leading an attack on the Hohenzollern\nRedoubt when he fell; he was seen to fall, wounded; there was great\nslaughter, and when at night his man returned to try and find him, he\ncould not be found. This is my recollection of the details, but of\ncourse they can be more accurately given. At what period the whip was\nfound, I don't know, but can ascertain.] (See also p. 266.)\n\n[No further news yet--September 1916. But I must confess that I think\nthe information extremely unlikely.--O. J. L.]\n\nO. J. L.--Does he remember William, our gardener?\n\n Yes.\n\n Feda doesn't know what he means, but he says something\n about coming over. (Feda, _sotto voce_.--Tell Feda what\n you mean.)\n\n\n He doesn't give it very clearly. Feda gets an idea that he\n means coming over there. Yes, he does mean into the spirit\n world. Feda asks him, did he mean soon; but he shakes his\n head.\n\nO. J. L.--Does he mean that he has come already?\n\n He doesn't get that very clearly. He keeps saying, coming\n over, coming over, and when Feda asked 'Soon?' he shook\n his head, as if getting cross.\n\nO. J. L.--If he sees him, perhaps he will help him.\n\n Of course he will. He hasn't seen him yet. No, he hasn't\n seen him.\n\n [I may here record that William, the gardener, died within a week\n before the sitting, and that Raymond here clearly indicates a\n knowledge, either of his death or of its imminence.]\n\n It's difficult when people approach you, and say they knew\n your father or your mother; you don't quite know what to\n say to them!\n\nO. J. L.--Yes, it must be a bother. Do you remember a bird in our\ngarden?\n\n (Feda, _sotto voce_.--Yes, hopping about?)\n\nO. J. L.--No, Feda, a big bird.\n\n Of course, not sparrows, he says! Yes, he does. (Feda,\n _sotto voce_.--Did he hop, Yaymond?) No, he says you\n couldn't call it a hop.\n\nO. J. L.--Well, we will go on to something else now; I don't want to\nbother him about birds. Ask him does he remember Mr. Jackson?\n\n Yes. Going away, going away, he says. He used to come to\n the door. (Feda, _sotto voce_.--Do you know what he means?\n Anyone can come to the door!) He used to see him every\n day, he says, every day. (_Sotto voce_.--What did he do,\n Yaymond?)\n\n He says, nothing. (I can't make out what he says.) He's\n thinking. It's Feda's fault, he says.\n\nO. J. L.--Well, never mind. Report anything he says, whether it makes\nsense or not.\n\n He says he fell down. He's sure of that. He hurt himself.\n He builds up a letter T, and he shows a gate, a small\n gate--looks like a foot-path; not one in the middle of a\n town. Pain in hands and arms.\n\n\nO. J. L.--Was he a friend of the family?\n\n No. No, he says, no. He gives Feda a feeling of tumbling,\n again he gives a feeling as though--(Feda thinks Yaymond's\n joking)--he laughed. He was well known among us, he says;\n and yet, he says, not a friend of the family. Scarcely a\n day passed without his name being mentioned. He's joking,\n Feda feels sure. He's making fun of Feda.\n\nO. J. L.--No, tell me all he says.\n\n He says, put him on a pedestal. No, that they put him on a\n pedestal. He was considered very wonderful. And he 'specs\n that he wouldn't have appreciated it, if he had known;\n but he didn't know, he says. Not sure if he ever will, he\n says. It sounds nonsense, what he says. Feda has got an\n impression that he's mixing him up with the bird, because\n he said something about 'bird' in the middle of it--just\n while he said something about Mr. Jackson, and then he\n pulled himself up, and changed it again. Just before he\n said 'pedestal' he said 'fine bird,' and then he stopped.\n In trying to answer the one, he got both mixed up, Mr.\n Jackson and the bird.\n\nO. J. L.--How absurd! Perhaps he's getting tired.\n\n He won't say he got this mixed up! But he did! Because\n he said 'fine bird,' and then he started off about Mr.\n Jackson.\n\nO. J. L.--What about the pedestal?\n\n On a pedestal, he said.\n\nO. J. L.--Would he like him put on a pedestal?\n\n No, he doesn't say nothing.\n\n[_Contemporary Note by O. J. L._--The episode of Mr. Jackson and the\nbird is a good one. 'Mr. Jackson' is the comic name of our peacock.\nWithin the last week he has died, partly, I fear, by the severe\nweather. But his legs have been rheumatic and troublesome for some\ntime; and in trying to walk he of late has tumbled down on them. He\nwas found dead in a yard on a cold morning with his neck broken. One\nof the last people I saw before leaving home for this sitting was\na man whom Lady Lodge had sent to take the bird's body and have it\nstuffed. She showed him a wooden pedestal on which she thought it\nmight be placed, and tail feathers were being sent with it. Hence,\nthe reference to the pedestal, if not telepathic from me, shows a\ncurious knowledge of what was going on. And the jocular withholding\nfrom Feda of the real meaning of Mr. Jackson, and the appropriate\nremarks made concerning him which puzzled Feda, were quite in\nRaymond's vein of humour.\n\nPerhaps it was unfortunate that I had mentioned a bird first, but I\ntried afterwards, by my manner and remarks, completely to dissociate\nthe name Jackson from what I had asked before about the bird; and\nRaymond played up to it.\n\nIt may be that he acquires some of these contemporary items of family\ninformation through sittings which are held in Mariemont, where of\ncourse all family gossip is told him freely, no outsider or medium\nbeing present. But the death of Mr. Jackson, and the idea of having\nhim stuffed and put on a pedestal, were very recent, and I was\nsurprised that he had knowledge of them. I emphasise the episode as\nexceptionally good.]\n\n He's trying to show Feda the side of a house; not a wall,\n it has got glass. He's taking Feda round to it; it has got\n glass stuff. Yes, and when you look in, it's like flowers\n inside and green stuff. He used to go there a lot--be\n there, he says. Red-coloured pots.\n\nO. J. L.--Is that anything to do with Mr. Jackson?\n\n He's shaking his head now. That's where mother got the\n flowers from. Tell her, she will know.\n\n[Illustration: \"GRANDFATHER W.\"]\n\n[Illustration: \"MR. JACKSON\" WITH M. F. A. L. AT MARIEMONT]\n\n[There is more than one greenhouse that might be referred to. M. F.\nA. L. got the yellow jasmine, which she thinks is the flower referred\nto, from the neighbourhood of one of them. And it is one on which the\npeacock used commonly to roost; though whether the reference to it\nfollowed on, or had any connexion with, the peacock is uncertain, and\nseems to be denied.]\n\n Yes, he's not so clear now, Soliver. He _has_ enjoyed\n himself. Sometimes he enjoys himself so much, he forgets\n to do the good things he prepared. I could stay for hours\n and hours, he says. But he's just as keen as you are in\n getting tests through. I think I have got some. When I go\n away, I pat myself on the back and think, That's something\n for them to say, \"Old Raymond does remember something.\"\n What does aggravate him sometimes is that when he can't\n get things through, people think it's because he has\n forgotten. It isn't a case of forgetting. He doesn't\n forget anything.\n\n Father, do you remember what I told mother about the place\n I had been to, and whom I had been allowed to see? What\n did they think of it?\n\n[See M. F. A. L. sitting with Mrs. Leonard, 4 February 1916, Chap.\nXX.]\n\nO. J. L.--Well, the family thought that it wasn't like Raymond.\n\n Ah, that's what I was afraid of. That's the awful part of\n it.\n\nO. J. L.--Well, I don't suppose they knew your serious side.\n\n Before he gave that to his mother, he hesitated, and\n thought he wouldn't. And then he said, Never mind what\n they think now, I must let mother and father know. Some\n day they will know, and so, what does it matter?\n\n He knew that they might think it was something out of a\n book, not me; but perhaps they didn't know that side of me\n so well.\n\nO. J. L.--No. But among the things that came back, there was a\nBible with marked passages in it, and so I saw that you had thought\nseriously about these things. [page 11.]\n\n Yes, he says. Yet there's something strange about it\n somehow. We are afraid of showing that side; we keep it to\n ourselves, and even hide it.\n\nO. J. L.--It must have been a great experience for you.\n\n I hadn't looked for it, I hadn't hoped for it, but it was\n granted.\n\nO. J. L.--Do you think you could take some opportunity of speaking\nabout it through some other medium, not Feda? Because at present the\nboys think that Feda invented it.\n\n Yes, that's what they do think. He says he will try very\n hard.\n\nO. J. L.--Have you ever seen that Person otherwise than at that time?\n\n No, I have not seen Him, except as I told you; he says,\n father, He doesn't come and mingle freely, here and there\n and everywhere. I mean, not in that sense; but we are\n always conscious, and we feel him. We are conscious of his\n presence. But you know that people think that when they go\n over, they will be with him hand in hand, but of course\n they're wrong.\n\n He doesn't think he will say very much more about that\n now, not until he's able to say it through some one else.\n It may be that they will say it wrong, that it won't be\n right; it may get twisted. Feda does that sometimes.\n (Feda, _sotto voce_.--No, Feda doesn't!) Yes she does, and\n that's why I say, go carefully.\n\nO. J. L.--Has he been through another medium to a friend of mine\nlately?\n\n[This was intended to refer to a sitting which Mr. Hill was holding\nwith Peters about that date, and, as it turned out, on the same day.]\n\n He doesn't say much. No, he doesn't say nothing about it.\n He hasn't got much power, and he's afraid that he might go\n wrong.\n\n Good-bye, father, now. My love to you, my love to mother.\n I am nearer to you than ever before, and I'm not so silly\n about [not] showing it. Love to all of them. Lionel is a\n dear old chap. My love to all.\n\n[Illustration: SECOND EDITION OF SAND-BOAT, AT MARIEMONT, BEFORE BEING\nUNSHIPPED AND TAKEN TO WOOLACOMBE, 1907]\n\n[Illustration: RAYMOND WORKING AT THE SAND-BOAT IN THE BOYS' LABORATORY\nAT MARIEMONT]\n\n Don't forget to tell mother about the roses I brought her.\n There's nothing to understand about them; I just wanted\n her to know that I brought her some flowers.\n\n Good night, father. I am always thinking of you. God bless\n you all.\n\n Give Feda's love to SrAlec.\n\nO. J. L.--Yes, I will, Feda. We are all fond of you.\n\n Yes, Feda feels it, and it lifts Feda up, and helps her.\n\n * * * * *\n\nMrs. Leonard speedily came-to, and seemed quite easy and well,\nalthough the sitting had been a long one, and it was now nearly 11.30\np.m.\n\n * * * * *\n\n[I repeat in conclusion that this was an excellent sitting, with a\ngood deal of evidential matter.--O. J. L.]\n\n [Footnote 27: This shows clear and independent knowledge\n of the sitting which I had held with Mrs. Clegg that same\n morning (see early parts of this chapter).]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII\n\nMORE UNVERIFIABLE MATTER\n\n\nOn 24 March, we had some more unverifiable material through Mrs.\nLeonard; it was much less striking than that given on 4 February, and\nI am inclined myself to attribute a good deal of it to hypothetical\ninformation received by Feda from other sitters: but it seems unfair\nto suppress it. In accordance with my plan I propose to reproduce it\nfor what it is worth.\n\n\n_Sitting with Mrs. Leonard at our Flat, Friday, 24 March 1916, from\n5.45 p.m. to 8 p.m._\n\n(_Present_--O. J. L. AND M. F. A. L.)\n\nREPORT BY O. J. L.\n\n(Mrs. Leonard arrived about 5.30 to tea, for a sitting with M. F. A.\nL. I happened to be able to come too, in order to take notes. She\nhad just come away from another sitting, and had had some difficulty\nin getting rid of her previous sitter in time, which rather bothered\nher. The result was not specially conducive to lucidity, and the\nsitting seemed only a moderately good one.\n\nWhen Feda arrived she seemed pleased, and said:--)\n\n Yes it is, yes, it's Soliver!\n\n How are you? Raymond's here!\n\nM. F. A. L.--Is he here already?\n\n Yes, of course he is!\n\n (Feda, _sotto voce_.--What's he say?) He says he hasn't\n come to play with Feda, or make jokes; he's come about\n serious things.\n\n Do you remember, Miss Olive [Feda's name for Lady Lodge],\n some time ago, about that beautiful experience what he\n had? He's so glad that you and Soliver know about it, even\n though the others can't take it in. Years hence he thinks\n they may. He says, over there, they don't mind talking\n about the real things, over there, 'cos they're the things\n that count.\n\n He thinks the one that took it in mostly was Lionel.\n Yes, it seemed to sink in mostly; he was turning it over\n afterwards, though he didn't say much. He's more ready for\n that than the others. He says he would never have believed\n it when he was here, but he is.\n\n He hasn't been to that place again, not that same\n place. But he's been to a place just below it. He's\n been attending lectures, at what they call, \"halls of\n learning\": you can prepare yourself for the higher spheres\n while you are living in lower ones. He's on the third, but\n he's told that even now he could go on to the fourth if he\n chose; but he says he would rather be learning the laws\n ap-per-taining to each sphere while he's still living on\n the third, because it brings him closer--at least until\n you two have come over. He will stay and learn, where he\n is. He wouldn't like to go on there and then find it to be\n difficult to get back. He will wait till we can go happily\n and comfortably together!\n\n Would it interest you for him to tell you about one of\n the places he's been to? It's so interesting to him, that\n he might seem to exaggerate; but the experience is so\n wonderful, it lives with him.\n\n He went into a place on the fifth sphere--a place he takes\n to be made of alabaster. He's not sure that it really\n was, but it looked like that. It looked like a kind of\n a temple--a large one. There were crowds passing into\n this place, and they looked very happy. And he thought,\n \"I wonder what I'm going to see here.\" When he got mixed\n up with the crowd going into the temple, he felt a kind\n of--(he's stopping to think). It's not irreverency what he\n says, but he felt a kind of feeling as if he had had too\n much champagne--it went to his head, he felt too buoyant,\n as if carried a bit off the ground.\n\n That's 'cos he isn't quite attuned to the conditions of\n that sphere. It's a most extraordinary feeling. He went\n in, and he saw that though the building was white, there\n were many different lights: looked like certain places\n covered in red, and ... was blue, and the centre was\n orange. These were not the crude colours that go by those\n names, but a softened shade. And he looked to see what\n they came from. Then he saw that a lot of the windows were\n extremely large, and the panes in them had glass of these\n colours. And he saw that some of the people would go and\n stand in the pinky coloured light that came through the\n red glass, and others would stand in the blue light, and\n some would stand in the orange or yellow coloured light.\n And he thought, \"What are they doing that for?\" Then\n some one told him that the pinky coloured light was the\n light of the love-colour; and the blue was the light of\n actual spiritual healing; and the orange was the light of\n intellect. And that, according to what people wanted, they\n would go and stand under that light. And the guide told\n him that it was more important than what people on earth\n knew. And that, in years to come, there would be made a\n study of the effect of different lights.\n\n The pinky people looked clever and developed in their\n attitude and mentality generally; but they hadn't been\n able to cultivate the love-interest much, their other\n interests had overpowered that one. And the people who\n went into the intellectual light looked softer and happy,\n but not so clever looking. He says he felt more drawn to\n the pink light himself, but some one said, \"No, you have\n felt a good deal of that,\" and he got out and went into\n the other two, and he felt that he liked the blue light\n best. And he thinks that perhaps you will read something\n into that. I had the other conditions, but I wanted the\n other so much. The blue seemed to call me more than the\n others. After I had been in it some time, I felt that\n nothing mattered much, except preparing for the spiritual\n life. He says that the old Raymond seemed far away at the\n time, as though he was looking back on some one else's\n life--some one I hadn't much connexion with, and yet who\n was linked on to me. And he felt, \"What does anything\n matter, if I can only attain this beautiful uplifting\n feeling.\" I can't tell you what I felt like, but reading\n it over afterwards, perhaps you will understand. Words\n feel powerless to describe it. He won't try, he will just\n tell you what happened after.\n\n We sat down--the seats were arranged something like pews\n in a church--and as he looked towards the aisle, he saw\n coming up it about seven figures. And he saw, from his\n former experience, that they were evidently teachers come\n down from the seventh sphere. He says, they went up to\n the end part, and they stood on a little raised platform;\n and then one of them came down each of the little aisles,\n and put out their hands on those sitting in the pews.\n And when one of the Guides put his hand on his head, he\n felt a mixture of all three lights--as if he understood\n everything, and as if everything that he had ever felt,\n of anger or worry, all seemed nothing. And he felt as if\n he could rise to any height, and as if he could raise\n everybody round him. As if he had such a power in himself.\n He's stopping to think over it again.\n\n They sat and listened, and the first part of the ceremony\n was given in a lecture, in which one of the Guides was\n telling them how to teach others on the lower spheres\n and earth plane, to come more into the spiritual life,\n while still on those lower planes. I think that all that\n went before was to make it easy to understand. And he\n didn't get only the words of the speaker, words didn't\n seem to matter, he got the thought--whole sentences,\n instead of one word at a time. And lessons were given on\n concentration, and on the projection of uplifting and\n helpful thoughts to those on the earth plane. And as he\n sat there--he sat, they were not kneeling--he felt as if\n something was going from him, through the other spheres on\n to the earth, and was helping somebody, though he didn't\n know who it was. He can't tell you how wonderful it was;\n not once it happened, but several times.\n\n He's even been on to the sixth sphere too. The sixth\n sphere was even more beautiful than the fifth, but at\n present he didn't want to stay there. He would rather be\n helping people where he is.\n\nO. J. L.--Does he see the troubles of people on the earth?\n\n Yes, he does sometimes.\n\n I do wish that we could alter people so that they were\n not ashamed to talk about the things that matter. He can\n see people preparing for the summer holidays, and yet\n something may prevent them. But the journey that they have\n got to go some time, that they don't prepare for at all.\n\nM. F. A. L.--How can you prepare for it?\n\n Yes, by speaking about it openly, and living your life so\n as to make it easier for yourself and others.\n\nO. J. L.--Is Raymond still there? Has he got any more tests to give,\nor anything to say, to the boys or anybody?\n\n Did they understand about the yacht?\n\nO. J. L.--Yes, they did.\n\n And about the tent?\n\nO. J. L.--Yes, they did.\n\n He's very pleased--it bucks him up when he gets things\n through.\n\nO. J. L.--Have you learnt any more about [the Colonel[28]]?\n\n He's not on the spirit side. He feels sure he isn't.\n Somebody told him that there was a body found, near the\n place where he had been, and it was dressed in uniform\n like he had had. But something had happened to it here\n (pointing to her head).\n\nO. J. L.--Who was it told you?\n\n Some one on the other side; just a messenger, not one who\n knew all about it. No, the messenger didn't seem to know\n J. K. personally, but he had gathered the information\n from the minds of people on the earth plane. And Feda\n isn't quite sure, but thinks that there was something\n missing from the body--missing from the body that they\n took to be him, which would have identified him.\n\nO. J. L.--Do you mean the face?\n\n No, he doesn't mean the face.\n\n (M. F. A. L., here pointing to her chest, signified to me\n that she knew that it was the identification disk that was\n missing.)\n\nM. F. A. L.--Why was it missing?\n\n Because it wasn't he! In the first place, it couldn't be,\n but if that had only been there, they would have known. He\n can't say where he is at the present moment, but he heard\n a few days ago that he is being kept somewhere, and as far\n as he can make out, in Belgium. It's as though he had been\n taken some distance.\n\n Raymond's not showing this--but Feda's shown in a sort\n of flash a letter. First a B, and then an R. But the B\n doesn't mean Belgium; it's either a B or an R, or both. It\n just flashed up. It may mean the place where he is. But\n Raymond doesn't know where he is, only he's quite sure\n that he isn't on the spirit side. But he's afraid he's ill.\n\nO. J. L.--Have you anything more to say about E. A.? [See 3\nMarch record, p. 243.]\n\n No, no more. Raymond came to Feda to help the lady who\n came. Feda started describing Raymond. And he said, no,\n only come to help. And then he brought the one what was\n drownded. He came to help also with another, but Feda\n didn't tell that lady, 'cos she didn't know you. He\n doesn't like Feda to tell. Feda couldn't understand why\n he wanted to help, because she didn't know he knew that\n gentleman. He helped E. A. to build up a picture of his\n home. Perhaps she thinks it was Feda being so clever!\n\nO. J. L.--Yes, I know, she's been there to see it. [See p.\n245.]\n\nYes, and she found it what she said. He told\n\n her that she wouldn't be seeing his mother. She couldn't\n see why she shouldn't see his mother; but she didn't.\n [True.] Raymond hasn't got any good tests. He can't\n manufacture them, and they are so hard to remember.\n\nO. J. L.--Is he still in his little house?\n\n Oh yes, he feels at home there.\n\nO. J. L.--He said it was made of bricks--I could make nothing of that.\n\n I knew you couldn't! It's difficult to explain. At-om-;\n he say something about at-om-ic principle. They seem\n to be able to draw (?) certain unstable atoms from the\n atmosphere and crystallise them as they draw near certain\n central attraction. That isn't quite what Feda thinks\n of it. Feda has seen like something going round--a\n wheel--something like electricity, some sparks dropping\n off the edge of the wheel, and it goes crick, crick,\n and becomes like hard; and then they falls like little\n raindrops into the long thing under the wheel--Raymond\n calls it the accumulator. I can't call them anything but\n bricks. It's difficult to know what to call them. Wait\n until you come over, and I'll show you round. And you will\n say, \"By Jove, so they are!\" Things are quite real here.\n Mind, I don't say things are as heavy as on the earth,\n because they're not. And if he hit or kicked something\n it wouldn't displace it so much as on the earth, because\n we're lighter. I can't tell you exactly what it is; I'm\n not very interested in making bricks, but I can see\n plainly how it's apparently done.\n\n He says it appears to him too, that the spirit spheres\n are built round the earth plane, and seem to revolve with\n it. Only, naturally, the first sphere isn't revolving\n at such a rate as the third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and\n seventh spheres. Greater circumference makes it seem to\n revolve more rapidly. That seems to have an actual effect\n on the atmospheric conditions prevailing in any one of the\n spheres. Do you see what he's getting at?\n\nO. J. L.--Yes. He only means that the peripheral velocity is greater\nfor the bigger spheres, though the angular velocity is the same.\n\n Yes, that's just what he means. And it does affect the\n different conditions, and that's why he felt a bit careful\n when he was on a higher sphere, in hanging on to the\n ground.\n\n[A good deal of this struck me as nonsense; as if Feda had picked it\nup from some sitter. But I went on recording what was said.]\n\n Such a lot of people think it's a kind of thought-world,\n where you think all sort of things--that it's all \"think.\"\n But when you come over you see that there's no thinking\n about it; it's _there_, and it does impress you with\n reality. He does wish you would come over. He will be\n as proud as a cat with something tails--two tails, he\n said. Proud as a cat with two tails showing you round the\n places. He says, father will have a fine time, poking into\n everything, and turning everything inside out.\n\n There's plenty flowers growing here, Miss Olive, you will\n be glad to hear. But we don't cut them here. They doesn't\n die and grow again; they seem to renew themselves. Just\n like people, they are there all the time renewing their\n spirit bodies. The higher the sphere he went to, the\n lighter the bodies seemed to be--he means the fairer,\n lighter in colour. He's got an idea that the reason why\n people have drawn angels with long fair hair and very fair\n complexion is that they have been inspired by somebody\n from very high spheres. Feda's not fair; she's not brown,\n but olive coloured; her hair is dark. All people that's\n any good has black hair.\n\n Do you know that [a friend] won't be satisfied unless he\n comes and has a talk through the table. Feda doesn't mind\n now, 'cos she has had a talk. So she will go now and let\n him talk through the table all right.\n\n Give Feda's love to all of them, specially to\n SLionel--Feda likes him.\n\n * * * * *\n\n(Mrs. Leonard now came-to, and after about ten minutes she and M. F.\nA. L. sat at a small octagonal table, which, in another five minutes,\nbegan to tilt.)\n\n[But the subject now completely changed, and, if reported at all,\nmust be reported elsewhere.]\n\nI may say that several times, during a Feda sitting, some special\ncommunicator has asked for a table sitting to follow, because he\nconsiders it more definite and more private. And certainly some of\nthe evidence so got has been remarkable; as indeed it was on this\noccasion. But the record concerns other people, distant friends of my\nwife, some of whom take no interest in the subject whatever.\n\n [Footnote 28: See record on P. 254.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII\n\nA FEW ISOLATED INCIDENTS\n\n\nThere are a number of incidents which might be reported, some of them\nof characteristic quality, and a few of them of the nature of good\ntests. The first of these reported here is decidedly important.\n\n\nI. SIMULTANEOUS SITTINGS IN LONDON AND EDGBASTON\n\nSPECIAL 'HONOLULU' TEST EPISODE\n\nLionel and Norah, going through London on the way to Eastbourne, on\nFriday, 26 May 1916, arranged to have a sitting with Mrs. Leonard\nabout noon. They held one from 11.55 to 1.30, and a portion of their\nrecord is transcribed below.\n\nAt noon it seems suddenly to have occurred to Alec in Birmingham to\ntry for a correspondence test; so he motored up from his office,\nextracted some sisters from the Lady Mayoress's Depot, where they\nwere making surgical bandages, and took them to Mariemont for a\nbrief table sitting. It lasted about ten minutes, between 12.10 and\n12.20 p.m. And the test which he then and there suggested was to ask\nRaymond to get Feda in London to say the word \"Honolulu.\" This task,\nI am told, was vigorously accepted and acquiesced in.\n\n A record of this short sitting Alec wrote on a letter-card to me,\nwhich I received at 7 p.m. the same evening at Mariemont: the first I\nhad heard of the experiment. The postmark is \"1 p.m. 26 My 16,\" and\nthe card runs thus:--\n\n \"_Mariemont, Friday, 26 May, 12.29 p.m._\n\n \"Honor, Rosalynde, and Alec sitting in drawing-room at\n table. Knowing Lionel and Norah having Feda sitting in\n London simultaneously. Asked Raymond to give our love to\n Norah and Lionel and to try and get Feda to say Honolulu.\n Norah and Lionel know nothing of this, as it was arranged\n by A. M. L. after 12 o'clock to-day.\n\n \"(Signed) ALEC M. LODGE HONOR G. LODGE ROSALYNDE V. LODGE\"\n\nIt is endorsed on the back in pencil, \"Posted at B'ham General P.O.\n12.43 p.m.\"; and, in ink, \"Received by me 7 p.m.--O. J. L. Opened and\nread and filed at once.\"\n\nThe sitters in London knew nothing of the contemporaneous attempt;\nand nothing was told them, either then or later. Noticing nothing odd\nin their sitting, which they had not considered a particularly good\none, they made no report till after both had returned from Eastbourne\na week later.\n\nThe notes by that time had been written out, and were given me to\nread to the family. As I read, I came on a passage near the end, and,\nlike the few others who were in the secret, was pleased to find that\nthe word \"Honolulu\" had been successfully got through. The subject of\nmusic appeared to have been rather forced in by Raymond, in order to\nget Feda to mention an otherwise disconnected and meaningless word;\nthe time when this was managed being, I _estimate_, about 1.0 or\n1.15. But of course it was not noted as of any interest at the time.\n\nHere follow the London Notes. I will quote portions of the sitting\nonly, so as not to take up too much space:--\n\n\n_Sitting of Lionel and Norah with Mrs. Leonard in London, Friday, 26\nMay 1916, beginning 11.55 a.m._\n\nEXTRACTS FROM REPORT BY L. L.\n\nAfter referring to Raymond's married sister and her husband, Feda\nsuddenly ejaculated:--\n\n How is Alec?\n\nL. L.--Oh, all right.\n\n He just wanted to know how he was, and send his love to\n him. He does not always see who is at the table; he feels\n some more than others.[29]\n\n He says you (to Norah) sat at the table and Lionel.\n\n He felt you (Norah) more than any one else at the table.\n\n[This is unlikely. He seems to be thinking that it is Honor.]\n\n Feda feels that if you started off very easily, you would\n be able to see him. Develop a normal ... [clairvoyance\n probably].\n\n Raymond says, go slowly, develop just with time, go\n slowly. Even the table helps a little.\n\n He can really get through now in his own words. When he is\n there, he now knows what he has got through.\n\n The Indians have got through their hanky-panky. [We\n thought that this meant playing with the table in a way\n beyond his control.]\n\n He says that Lily is here. (Feda, _sotto voce_.--Where is\n she?)\n\n She looks very beautiful, and has lilies; she will help\n too, and give you power.\n\n Sit quietly once or twice a week, hold your hands, the\n right over the left, so, for ten minutes, then sit\n quiet--only patience. He could wait till doomsday.\n\n He says, Wait and see; he is laughing!\n\n He has seen Curly (p. 203).\n\nL. L.--Is Curly there now?\n\n No, see her when we wants to. That's the one that wriggles\n and goes ... (here Feda made a sound like a dog panting,\n with her tongue out--quite a good imitation).\n\n Raymond has met another boy like Paul, a boy called Ralph.\n He likes him. There is what you call a set. People meet\n there who are interested in the same things. Ralph is a\n very decent sort of chap.[30]\n\n (To Norah).--You could play.\n\nN. M. L.--Play what?\n\n Not a game, a music.\n\nN. M. L.--I am afraid I can't, Raymond.\n\n (Feda, _sotto voce_.--She can't do that.)\n\n He wanted to know whether you could play Hulu--Honolulu.\n\n Well, can't you try to? He is rolling with laughter\n [meaning that he's pleased about something].\n\n He knows who he is speaking to, but he can't give the name.\n\n[Here he seems to know that it is Norah and not Honor.]\n\nL. L.--Should I tell him?\n\n No.\n\n He says something about a yacht; he means a test he sent\n through about a yacht. Confounded Argonauts![31]\n\n He is going. Fondest love to them at Mariemont.\n\nThe sitting continued for a short time longer, ending at 1.30 p.m.,\nbut the present report may end here.\n\n\nNOTE ON THE 'HONOLULU' EPISODE BY O. J. L.\n\nIn my judgment there were signs that the simultaneous holding of two\nsittings, one with Honor and Alec in Edgbaston, and one with Lionel\nand Norah in London, introduced a little harmless confusion; there\nwas a tendency in London to confuse Norah with Honor, and Alec was\nmentioned in London in perhaps an unnecessary way. I do not press\nthis, however, but I do press the 'Honolulu' episode--\n\n (i) because it establishes a reality about the home sittings,\n\n (ii) because it so entirely eliminates anything of the nature of\ncollusion, conscious or unconscious,\n\n (iii) because the whole circumstances of the test make it an\nexceedingly good one.\n\nWhat it does not exclude is telepathy. In fact it may be said to\nsuggest telepathy. Yes, it suggests distinctly one variety of what,\nI think, is often called telepathy--a process sometimes conducted, I\nsuspect, by an unrecognised emissary or messenger between agent and\npercipient. It was exactly like an experiment conducted for thought\ntransference at a distance. For at Edgbaston was a party of three\nsitting round a table and thinking for a few seconds of the word\n'Honolulu'; while in London was a party of two simultaneously sitting\nwith a medium and recording what was said. And in their record the\nword 'Honolulu' occurs. Telepathy, however--of whatever kind--is not\na normal explanation; and I venture to say that there is no normal\nexplanation, since in my judgment chance is out of the question. The\nsubject of music was forced in by the communicator, in order to bring\nin the word; it did not occur naturally; and even if the subject of\nmusic had arisen, there was no sort of reason for referring to that\nparticular song. The chief thing that the episode establishes, to\nmy mind, and a thing that was worth establishing, is the genuine\ncharacter of the simple domestic sittings without a medium which\nare occasionally held by the family circle at Mariemont. For it is\nthrough these chiefly that Raymond remains as much a member of the\nfamily group as ever.\n\n\nII. IMPROMPTU MARIEMONT SITTING\n\nOnce at Mariemont, I am told, when M. F. A. L. and Honor were\ntouching it, the table moved up to a book in which relics and\nreminiscences of Raymond had been pasted, and caused it to be opened.\nIn it, among other things, was an enlargement of the snapshot facing\npage 278, showing him in an old 'Nagant' motor, which had been passed\non to him by Alec, stopping outside a certain house in Somersetshire.\nHe was asked what house it was, and was expected to spell the name\nof the friend who lived there, but instead he spelt the name of the\nhouse. The record by M. F. A. L., with some unimportant omissions,\nis here reproduced--merely, however, as another example of a private\nsitting without a medium.\n\n\n_Impromptu Table Sitting at Mariemont, Tuesday, 25 April 1916_\n\n(REPORT BY M. F. A. L.)\n\nI had been thinking of Raymond all day, and wanting to thank him for\nwhat he did yesterday for [a friend]. Honor had agreed that we might\ndo it some time, but when I mentioned it about 10.50 p.m., she did\nnot want to sit then--she thought it too late. We were then in the\nlibrary.\n\nHonor, sitting on the Chesterfield, said, \"I wonder if any table\nwould be equally good for Raymond?\"--placing her hands on the\nmiddle-sized table of the nest of three. It at once began to stir,\nand she asked me to place mine on the other side to steady it.\n\nI asked if it was Raymond, and it decidedly said YES.\n\nI then thanked him with much feeling for what he had done for [two\nseparate families] lately. I told him how much he had comforted them,\nand how splendidly he was doing; that there were quite a number of\npeople he had helped now. We discussed a few others that needed help.\n\nThen I think we asked him if he knew what room we were in--YES. And\nafter knocking me a good deal, and making a noise which seemed to\nplease him against my eyeglasses, he managed, by laying the table\ndown, to get one foot on to the Chesterfield and raise the table\nup on it; and there it stayed, and rocked about for a long time\nanswering questions--I thought it would make a hole in the cover.\n\nI don't quite remember how it got down, but it did, and then edged\nitself up to the other larger table, which had been given me by\nAlec, No\u00ebl, and Raymond, after they had broken a basket table I used\nto use there--it was brought in with a paper, \"To Mother from the\nculprits.\" (This was a year or two ago.) Well, he got it up to this\ntable, and fidgeted about with the foot of the smaller table on which\nwe had our hands, until he rested it on a ledge and tried to raise\nit up. But the way he did this most successfully was when he got the\nledge of our small table onto a corner of the other and then raised\nit off the ground level. This he did several times. I took one hand\noff, leaving one hand on the top, and Honor's two hands lying on the\ntop, _no part_ of them being over the edge, and I measured the height\nthe legs were off the ground. The first time it was the width of\nthree fingers, and the next time four fingers.\n\nHonor told him this was very clever.\n\nI then tried to press it down, but could not--a curious feeling, like\npressing on a cushion of air.\n\nHe had by this time turned us right round, so that Honor was sitting\nwhere I had been before, and I was sitting or sometimes standing in\nher place. Then we were turned round again, and he seemed to want to\nknock the other table again; he went at it in a curious way. I had\nwith one hand to remove a glass on it which I thought he would upset.\nHe continued to edge against it, until he reached a book lying on\nit. This he knocked with such intention, that Honor asked him if he\nwanted it opened.\n\n YES.\n\n[This was a scrap-book in which I collect anything about\nhim--photographs, old and new; poems made _about_ him, or sent to\nme in consolation; and it has his name outside, drawn on in large\nletters.--M. F. A. L.]\n\nSo I opened it, and showed him the photograph of himself seated in\nthe 'Nagant.' [A motor-car which Alec had practically given him not\nlong before the war, and with which he was delighted.]\n\nHonor asked if he could see it, and he said YES, and seemed pleased.\n\nShe asked if he could tell her what house it was standing in front\nof, and he spelt out--\n\n ST. GERMINS.\n\n[This was pretty good, as the name of the Jacques's house is 'St.\nGermains.']\n\n (Honor had forgotten the name till he began, and expected him to say\n Jacques's.)\n\nWe told him he had got it, but that his spelling wasn't quite as good\nas it had been.\n\nHonor talked to him then about the 'Nagant' and the 'Gabrielle Horn,'\nall of which seemed to delight him.\n\nWe then showed him some other photographs, and the one of his dog,\nand asked him to spell its name, which he did without mistake--\n\n LARRY.\n\nHe couldn't see the little photograph of the goats, as it was too\nsmall. But he saw himself in uniform--the one taken by Rosalynde and\nenlarged--and he seemed to like seeing that.\n\nWe talked a lot to him. I asked if he remembered his journey with\nme out to Italy, and the Pullman car, etc. At this he knocked very\naffectionately against me.\n\nWe then thought it was time for us all to go to bed. But he said NO.\nSo we went on telling him family news. He listened with interest and\nappreciative knocks, and he then tried his balancing trick again,\nsometimes with success, but often failing to get the leg right. But\nhe did it again in the end. We tried to say good night, it being then\nnearly one o'clock, but he didn't seem to want to go.\n\nWe said au revoir, and told him we would see him again soon.\n\n\nIII. EPISODE OF 'MR. JACKSON'\n\nA striking incident is reported in one of my 'Feda' sittings--that\non 3 March 1916--shortly after the death of our peacock, which went\nby the comic name of 'Mr. Jackson,' his wives being Matilda Jackson\nand Janet. He was a pet of M. F. A. L.'s, and had recently met with a\ntragic end. It was decided to have him stuffed, and one of the last\nthings I had seen before leaving Mariemont was a wooden pedestal on\nwhich it was proposed to put him.\n\nWhen I asked Feda if Raymond remembered Mr. Jackson, he spoke of him\nhumorously, greatly to Feda's puzzlement, who said at last that he\nwas mixing him up with a bird, about whom I had previously inquired;\nbecause he said, 'Fine bird, put him on a pedestal.'\n\n[Illustration: \"CURLEY\" AND \"VIX\", CURLEY BEING THE SHAGGY ONE. \"VIX\"\nWAS THE MOTHER OF RAYMOND'S DOG \"LARRY\"]\n\n[Illustration: RAYMOND IN HIS \"NAGANT\" MOTOR, 1913 OUTSIDE A FRIEND'S\nHOUSE IN SOMERSETSHIRE]\n\nIf this was not telepathy from me, it seems to show a curious\nknowledge of what is going on at his home, for the bird had not\nbeen dead a week, and if he were alive there would be no sense in\nsaying, 'put him on a pedestal.' Feda evidently understood it, or\ntried to understand it, as meaning that some man, a Mr. Jackson, was\nmetaphorically put on a pedestal by the family.\n\nThe fact, however, that Mr. Jackson was at once known by Raymond to\nbe a bird is itself evidential, for there was nothing in the way I\nasked the question to make Feda or anyone think he was not a man.\nIndeed, that is precisely why she got rather bewildered. See Chapter\nXXI.\n\n\nIV. EPISODE OF THE PHOTOGRAPHS\n\nIt is unnecessary to call attention to the importance of the\nphotograph incident, which is fully narrated in Chapter IV; but he\nspoke later of another photograph, in which he said was included\nhis friend Case. It is mentioned near the end of Chapter IV. That\nphotograph we also obtained from Gale & Polden, and it is true that\nCase is in it as well as Raymond, whereas he was not in the former\ngroup; but this one is entirely different from the other, for they\nare both in a back row standing up, and in a quite open place.\nIf this had been sent to us at first, instead of the right one,\nwe should have considered the description quite wrong. As it is,\nthe main photograph episode constitutes one of the best pieces of\nevidence that has been given.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\nREMARKS BY O. J. L. IN CONCLUDING PART II\n\nThe number of more or less convincing proofs which we have obtained\nis by this time very great. Some of them appeal more to one person,\nsome to another; but taking them all together every possible ground\nof suspicion or doubt seems to the family to be now removed. And it\nis legitimate to say, further, that partly through Raymond's activity\na certain amount of help of the same kind has been afforded to\nother families. Incidentally it has been difficult to avoid brief\nreference to a few early instances of this, in that part of the\nrecord now published. For the most part, however, these and a great\nnumber of other things are omitted; and I ought perhaps to apologise\nfor the quantity which I have thought proper to include. Some home\ncritics think that it would have been wiser to omit a great deal\nmore, so as to lighten the book. But one can only act in accordance\nwith one's own judgment; and the book, if it is to achieve what it\naims at, cannot be a light one. So, instead of ending it here, I\npropose to add a quantity of more didactic material--expressing my\nown views on the subject of Life and Death--the result of many years\nof thought and many kinds of experience.\n\nSome people may prefer the details in Part II; but others who\nhave not the patience to read Part II may tolerate the more\ngeneral considerations adduced in Part III--the \"Life and Death\"\nportion--which can be read without any reference to Raymond or to\nParts I and II.\n\n [Footnote 29: It is noteworthy, in connexion with these\n remarks, that Honor and Alec were sitting for a short time\n at Mariemont just about now.--O. J. L.]\n\n [Footnote 30: This is the first mention of a\n Ralph--presumably the one whose people, not known to us\n personally, had had excellent table sittings with Mrs.\n Leonard. See Chapter XII.--O. J. L.]\n\n [Footnote 31: This is too late to be of any use, but\n 'Yacht' appears to be the sort of answer they had wanted\n to 'Argonauts.'--O. J. L.]\n\n\n\n\nPART THREE: LIFE AND DEATH\n\n \"Eternal form shall still divide\n The eternal soul from all beside;\n And I shall know him when we meet.\"\n\n Tennyson, _In Memoriam_.\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\n\nIn this \"Life and Death\" portion a definite side is unobtrusively\ntaken in connexion with two outstanding controversies; and though\nthe treatment is purposely simple and uncontroversial, the author is\nunder no delusion that every philosophical reader will agree with\nhim. Explicit argumentation on either side is no novelty, but this is\nnot the place for argument; moreover, the opposing views have already\nbeen presented with ample clearness by skilled disputants.\n\nBriefly then it may be said that Interactionism rather than\nEpiphenomenalism or Parallelism is the side taken in one controversy.\nAnd the non-material nature of life--the real existence of some kind\nof vital essence or vivifying principle as a controlling and guiding\nentity--is postulated in another: though the author never calls it a\nforce or an energy.\n\nPhilosophical literature teems with these topics, but it may\nsuffice here to call the attention of the general reader to two\nor three easily readable summaries--one an explanatory article by\nMr. Gerald Balfour, in _The Hibbert Journal_ for April 1910, on\nthe Epiphenomenon controversy, and generally on the alternative\nexplanations of the connexion between Mind and Body, in the light\nthrown on the subject by Telepathy and Psychical Research; while on\nthe vitality controversy a small book embodying a short course of\nlectures by the physiologist and philosopher Dr. J. S. Haldane under\nthe title _Mechanism, Life, and Personality_, or a larger book by\nProfessor M'Dougal called _Body and Mind_, may be recommended. On\nthis subject also the writings of Professor J. Arthur Thomson may be\nspecially mentioned.\n\nThe opinions of the present author on these topics, whatever they\nmay be worth, are held without apology or hesitation, because to him\nthey appear the inevitable consequence of facts of nature as now\nknown or knowable. Some of these facts are not generally accepted\nby scientific men; and if the facts themselves are not admitted,\nnaturally any conclusion based upon them will appear ill-founded, and\nthe further developed structure illusory. He anticipates that this\nwill be said by critics.\n\nIn so far as the author's manner of statement is in terms of frank\nDualism, he regards that as inevitable for scientific purposes. He\ndoes not suppose that any form of Dualism can be the last word about\nthe Universe; but, for practical purposes, mind and matter, or soul\nand body, must be thought of separately, and it must be the work of\nhigher Philosophy to detect ultimate unity--a unity which he feels\ncertain cannot possibly be materialistic in any sense intelligible to\nthose who are at present studying matter and energy.\n\nIt may be doubted whether Materialism as a philosophy exists any\nlonger, in the sense of being sustained by serious philosophers;\nbut a few physiological writers, of skill and industry, continue\nto advocate what they are pleased to call Scientific Materialism.\nProperly regarded this is a Policy, not a Philosophy, as I will\nexplain; but they make the mistake of regarding it as a Philosophy\ncomprehensive enough to give them the right of negation as well\nas of affirmation. They do this in the interest of what they feel\ninstinctively to be the ultimate achievement, a Monism in which mind\nand matter can be recognised as aspects of some one fundamental\nReality. We can sympathise with the aim, and still feel how far from\naccomplishment we are. Nothing is gained by undue haste, and by\nunfounded negation much may be lost. We must not deny any part of the\nUniverse for the sake of a premature unification. Simplification by\nexclusion or denial is a poverty-stricken device.\n\nThe strength of such workers is that they base themselves on the\nexperience and discoveries of the past, and, by artificial but\nconvenient limitation of outlook, achieve practical results. But they\nare not satisfied with results actually achieved--they forget their\nlimitations--and, by a gigantic system of extrapolation from what has\nbeen done, try to infer what is going to be done; their device being\nto anticipate and speak of what they hope for, as if it were already\nan accomplished fact. Some of the assumptions or blind guesses made\nby men of this school are well illustrated by an exposition in _The\nHibbert Journal_ for July 1916, where an able writer states the main\npropositions of Scientific Materialism thus:--\n\n 1. The law of universal causation;\n\n 2. The principle of mechanism--_i.e._ the denial of purpose in the\n universe and all notions of absolute finalism or teleology;\n\n 3. The denial that there exists any form of 'spiritual' or 'mental'\n entity that cannot be expressed in terms of matter and motion.\n\nThese appear to be its three propositions, and they are formulated by\nthe exponent \"as being of the first importance in the representation\nof materialistic thought.\"\n\nNow proposition 1 is common property; materialistic thought has no\nsort of exclusive right over it; and to claim propositions 2 and\n3 as corollaries from it is farcical. Taking them as independent\npostulates--which they are--all that need be said about proposition\n2 is that a broad denial always needs more knowledge than a specific\nassertion, and it is astonishing that any sane person can imagine\nhimself to know enough about the Universe as a whole to be able\ncomplacently to deny the existence of any \"purpose\" in it. All he\ncan really mean is that scientific explanations must be framed so\nas to exhibit the immediate means whereby results in nature are\naccomplished; for whether, or in what sense, they are first or\nsimultaneously conceived in a Mind--as human undertakings are--is\na matter beyond our scientific ken. Thus Darwinian and Mendelian\nattempts to explain how species arise, and how inheritance occurs,\nare entirely legitimate and scientific. For our experience is that\nevery event has a proximate cause which we can investigate. Of\nultimate causes we as scientific men are ignorant: they belong to a\ndifferent region of inquiry. If the word \"denial,\" therefore, in the\nabove proposition is replaced by the phrase \"exclusion from practical\nscientific attention,\" I for one have no quarrel with clause 2;\nfor it then becomes a mere self-denying ordinance, a convenient\nlimitation of scope. It represents Policy, not Philosophy.\n\nBut attention may be more usefully directed to the extravagantly\ngratuitous guess involved in hypothesis 3. As a minor point, it is\nnot even carefully worded; for entities which cannot be expressed in\nterms of matter and motion are common enough without going outside\nthe domain of physics. Light, for instance, and Electricity, have\nnot yet proved amenable, and do not appear likely to be amenable, to\npurely dynamical theory.\n\nCertain phenomena have been reduced to matter and motion,--heat, for\ninstance, and sound, the phenomena of gases and liquids, and all the\ncomplexities of astronomy. And in a famous passage Newton expressed\nan enthusiastic hope that all the phenomena of physics might some\nday be similarly reduced to the attractive simplicity of the three\nlaws of motion--inertia, acceleration, and stress. And ever since\nNewton it has been the aim of physics to explain everything in its\ndomain in terms of pure dynamics. The attempt has been only partially\nsuccessful: the Ether is recalcitrant. But its recalcitrance is not\nlike mere surly obstruction, it is of a helpful and illuminating\ncharacter, and I shall not be misleading anyone if I cheerfully\nadmit that in some modified and expanded form dynamical theory in\nmathematical physics has proved itself to be supreme.\n\nBut does dominance of that kind give to that splendid science--the\nglory of Britain and of Cambridge--the right to make a gigantic\nextrapolation and sprawl over all the rest of the Universe, throwing\nout tentacles even into regions which it has definitely abstracted\nfrom its attention or excluded from its ken? There is not a physicist\nwho thinks so. The only people who try to think so are a few\nenthusiasts of a more speculative habit of thought, who are annoyed\nwith the physicists, from Lord Kelvin downwards, for not agreeing\nwith them. And being unable to gather from competent authority any\nspecific instance in which dynamics has explained a single fact in\nthe region of either life or mind or consciousness or emotion or\npurpose or will,--because it is known perfectly well that dynamical\njurisdiction does not extend into those regions,--these speculators\nset up as authorities on their own account, and, on the strength of\ntheir own expectation, propound the broad and sweeping dogma that\nnothing in the Universe exists which is not fully expressible in\nterms of matter and motion. And then, having accustomed themselves to\nthe sound of some such collocation of words, they call upon humanity\nto shut its eyes to any facts of common experience which render such\nan assertion ridiculous.\n\nThe energy and enthusiasm of these writers, and the good work\nthey may be doing in their own science, render them more or less\nimmune from attack; but every now and then it is necessary to say\nclearly that such extravagant generalisations profane the modesty of\nscience: whose heritage it is to recognise the limitations of partial\nknowledge, and to be always ready to gain fresh experience and learn\nabout the unknown. The new and unfamiliar is the vantage ground, not\nof scientific dogmatism, but of scientific inquiry.\n\n * * * * *\n\nThe expository or theoretical part of this book may at first appear\ntoo abstract for the general reader who has had no experience of\nthe kind of facts already described. Such reader may fail to see a\nconnexion between this more didactic portion and the illustrations or\nexamples which have preceded it; but if he will give sufficient time\nand thought to the subject, the connexion will dawn upon him with\nconsiderable vividness.\n\nIt has always seemed to the author legitimate, and in every way\ndesirable, for an experimenter to interpret and make himself\nresponsible for an explanation or theory of his observations, so far\nas he can. To record bare facts and expect a reader of the record\nto arrive at the same conclusion as that reached by one who has\nbeen immersed in them for a long time, is to expect too strenuous\nan effort, and is not a fair procedure. Such a practice, though\nnot unusual and sometimes even commended in physical science, is\nnot followed by the most famous workers; and it has been known to\nretard progress for a considerable time by loading the student with\nan accumulation of undigested facts. The hypothesis on which an\nobserver has been working, or which he has arrived at in the course\nof his investigations, may or may not be of permanent value, but if\nhis experience has led him to regard it as the best solution so far\nattainable, and if he is known not to be a specially obstinate or\nself-opinionated person, his views for what they are worth should be\nset forth for the guidance of future inquirers. If he mauls the facts\nin his direction, he will be detected; but such an accusation is a\nserious one, and should not be made lightly or without opportunity\nfor reply.\n\nThe string on which beads are strung may not be extremely durable,\nand in time it may give place to something stronger, but it is better\nthan a random heap of beads not threaded on anything at all.\n\nThe main thread linking all the facts together in the present case is\nthe hypothesis not only of continued or personal psychical existence\nin the abstract, but a definite inter-locking or inter-communication\nbetween two grades of existence,--the two in which we are most\nimmediately interested and about which we can ascertain most,--that\nof the present and that of the immediate future for each individual;\ntogether with the added probabilities that the actual grades of\nexistence are far more than two, and that the forthcoming transition,\nin which we cannot but be interested even if we do not believe in it,\nis only one of many of which we shall, in some barely imaginable way,\nin due time become aware.\n\nThe hypothesis of continued existence in another set of conditions,\nand of possible communication across a boundary, is not a gratuitous\none made for the sake of comfort and consolation, or because of a\ndislike to the idea of extinction; it is a hypothesis which has been\ngradually forced upon the author--as upon many other persons--by the\nstringent coercion of definite experience. The foundation of the\natomic theory in Chemistry is to him no stronger. The evidence is\ncumulative, and has broken the back of all legitimate and reasonable\nscepticism.\n\nAnd if by selecting the atomic theory as an example he has chosen one\nupon which supplementary and most interesting facts have been grafted\nin the progress of discovery--facts not really contradicting the old\nknowledge, even when superficially appearing to do so, but adding to\nit and illuminating it further, while making changes perhaps in its\nmanner of formulation--he has chosen such an example of set purpose,\nas not unlikely to be imitated in the present case also.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nTHE MEANING OF THE TERM LIFE\n\n\"Eternal process moving on.\"--TENNYSON\n\n\nThe shorter the word the more inevitable it is that it will be used\nin many significations; as can be proved by looking out almost any\nmonosyllable in a large dictionary. The tendency of a simple word to\nhave many glancing meanings--like shot silk, as Tennyson put it--is\na character of high literary value; though it may be occasionally\ninconvenient for scientific purposes. It is unlikely that we can\nescape an ambiguity due to this tendency, but I wish to use the term\n'life' to signify the vivifying principle which animates matter.\n\nThat the behaviour of animated matter differs from what is often\ncalled dead matter is familiar, and is illustrated by the description\nsometimes given of an uncanny piece of mechanism--that \"it behaves\nas if it were alive.\" In the case of a jumping bean, for instance,\nits spasmodic and capricious behaviour can be explained with apparent\nsimplicity, though with a suspicious trend towards superstition,\nby the information that a live and active maggot inhabits a cavity\ninside. It is thereby removed from the bare category of physics\nonly, though still perfectly obedient to physical laws: it jumps in\naccordance with mechanics, but neither the times nor the direction of\nits jumps can be predicted.[32]\n\nWe must admit that the term 'dead matter' is often misapplied. It\nis used sometimes to denote merely the constituents of the general\ninorganic world. But it is inconvenient to speak of utterly inanimate\nthings, like stones, as 'dead,' when no idea of life was ever\nassociated with them, and when 'inorganic' is all that is meant. The\nterm 'dead' applied to a piece of matter signifies the absence of a\nvivifying principle, no doubt, but it is most properly applied to a\ncollocation of organic matter which has been animated.\n\nAgain, when animation has ceased, the thing we properly call dead\nis not the complete organism, but that material portion which is\nleft behind; we do not or should not intend to make any assertion\nconcerning the vivifying principle which has left it,--beyond the\nbare fact of its departure. We know too little about that principle\nto be able to make safe general assertions. The life that is\ntransmitted by an acorn or other seed fruit is always beyond our ken.\nWe can but study its effects, and note its presence or its absence by\nresults.\n\nLife must be considered _sui generis_; it is not a form of energy,\nnor can it be expressed in terms of something else. Electricity is\nin the same predicament; it too cannot be explained in terms of\nsomething else. This is true of all fundamental forms of being.\nMagnetism may be called a concomitant of moving electricity; ordinary\nmatter can perhaps be resolved into electric charges: but an electric\ncharge can certainly not be expressed in terms of either matter or\nenergy. No more can life. To show that the living principle in a seed\nis not one of the forms of energy, it is sufficient to remember that\nthat seed can give rise to innumerable descendants, through countless\ngenerations, without limit. There is nothing like a constant quantity\nof something to be shared, as there is in all examples of energy:\nthere is no conservation about it: the seed embodies a stimulating\nand organising principle which appears to well from a limitless\nsource.\n\nBut although life is not energy, any more than it is matter, yet it\ndirects energy and thereby controls arrangements of matter. Through\nthe agency of life specific structures are composed which would not\notherwise exist, from a sea-shell to a cathedral, from a blade of\ngrass to an oak; and specific distributions of energy are caused,\nfrom the luminosity of a firefly to an electric arc, from the song of\na cricket to an oratorio.\n\nLife makes use of any automatic activities, or transferences and\ndeclensions of energy, which are either potentially or actually\noccurring. In especial it makes use of the torrent of ether tremors\nwhich reach the earth from the sun. Every plant is doing it\nconstantly. Admittedly life exerts no force, it does no work, but\nit makes effective the energy available for an organism which it\ncontrols and vivifies; it determines in what direction and when\nwork shall be done. It is plain matter of fact that it does this,\nwhether we understand the method or not,--and thus indirectly life\ninteracts with and influences the material world. The energy of\ncoal is indirectly wholly solar, but without human interference it\nmight remain buried in the earth, and certainly would never propel\na ship across the Atlantic. One way of putting the matter is to say\nthat life _times_, and _directs_. If it runs a railway train, it\nruns the train not like a locomotive but like a General Manager.\nIt enters into battle with a walking-stick, but guns are fired to\nits orders. It may be said to aim and fire: one of its functions is\nto discriminate between the wholesome and the deleterious, between\nfriend and foe. That is a function outside the scope of physics.\n\nEnergy controlled by life is not random energy: the kind of\nself-composition or personal structure built by it depends on the\nkind of life-unit which is operating, not on the pabulum which is\nsupplied. The same food will serve to build a pig, a chicken, or\na man. Food which is assimilable at all takes a shape determined\nby the nature of the operative organism, and indeed by the portion\nof the organism actually reached by it. Unconscious constructive\nability is as active in each cell of the body as in a honeycomb; only\nin a beehive we can see the operators at work. The construction of\nan eye or an ear is still more astonishing. In the inorganic world\nsuch structures would be meaningless, for there would be nothing\nto respond to their stimulus; they can only serve elementary mind\nand consciousness. The brain and nerve system is an instrument of\ntransmutation or translation from the physical to the mental, and\n_vice versa_.\n\n\nSTAGES OF EVOLUTION\n\nSteps in the progress of evolution--great stages which have been\nlikened by Sir James Crichton Browne to exceptional Mendelian\nMutations--may be rather imaginatively rehearsed somewhat thus:--\n\nStarting with\n\n The uniform Ether of Space, we can first suppose\n\n The specialisation or organisation of specks of ether into Electrons;\n followed by\n\n Associated systems of electrons, constituting atoms of Matter; and so\n\n The whole inorganic Universe.\n\nThen, as a new and astonishing departure, comes--\n\n The cell, or protoplasmic complex which Life can construct and\n utilise for manifestation and development.[33]\n\nAnd after that\n\n A brain cell, which can become the physical organ for the rudiments\n of Mind.\n\nFollowed by\n\n Further mental development until Consciousness becomes possible.\n With subsequent\n\n Sublimation of consciousness into Ethics, Philosophy, and Religion.\n\nWe need not insist on these or any other stages for our present\npurpose; yet something of the kind would seem to have occurred, in\nthe mysterious course of time.\n\n\nTHREE EXPLANATORY NOTES\n\nNOTE A.--MECHANICS OF JUMPING BEAN\n\nThe biological explanation of a jumping bean is sometimes felt to be\npuzzling, inasmuch as the creature is wholly enclosed; and a man in\na boat knows that he cannot propel it by movement inside, without\ntouching the water or something external. But the reaction of a\ntable can be made use of through the envelope, and a live thing can\nmomentarily vary its own weight-pressure and even reverse its sign.\nThis fact has a bearing on some psycho-physical experiments, and\nhence is worthy of a moment's attention.\n\nTo weigh an animal that jumps and will not keep still is always\ntroublesome. It cannot alter its average weight, truly, but it can\nredistribute it in time; at moments its apparent weight may be\nexcessive, and at other moments zero or even negative, as during the\nmiddle of an energetic leap. Parenthetically we may here interpolate\na remark and say that what is called interference of light (two\nlights producing darkness, in popular language) is a redistribution\nof luminous energy in space. No light, nor any kind of wave motion,\nis destroyed by interference when two sets of waves overlap, but the\nenergy rises to a maximum in some places, and in other places sinks\nto zero. No wave energy is consumed by interference--only rearranged.\nThis fact is often misstated. And probably the other statement, about\nthe varying apparent weight--_i.e._ pressure on the ground--of a live\nanimal, may be misstated too: though there is no question of energy\nabout that, but only of force. The force or true weight, in the sense\nof the earth's attraction, is there all the time, and is constant;\nbut the pressure on the ground, or the force needed to counteract the\nweight, is not constant. After momentary violence, as in throwing, no\nsupport need be supplied for several seconds; and, like the maggot\ninside a hollow bean, a live thing turning itself into a projectile\nmay even carry something else up too. It is instructive also to\nconsider a flying bird, and a dirigible balloon, and to ask where the\nstill existing weight of these things can be found.\n\n\nNOTE B.--DIFFERENCES BETWEEN A GROWING ORGANISM AND A GROWING\nCRYSTAL\n\nThe properties which differentiate living matter from any kind of\ninorganic imitation may be instinctively felt, but can hardly be\nformulated without expert knowledge. The differences between a\ngrowing organism and a growing crystal are many and various, but it\nmust suffice here to specify the simplest and most familiar sort of\ndifference; and as it is convenient to take a possibly controversial\nstatement of this kind from the writings of a physiologist, I quote\nhere a passage from an article by Professor Fraser Harris, of\nHalifax, Nova Scotia, in the current number of the quarterly magazine\ncalled _Science Progress_ edited by Sir Ronald Ross--\n\n \"Living animal bioplasm has the power of growing, that\n is of assimilating matter in most cases chemically\n quite unlike that of its own constitution. Now this is\n a remarkable power, not in the least degree shared by\n non-living matter. Its very familiarity has blinded us to\n its uniqueness as a chemical phenomenon. The mere fact\n that a man eating beef, bird, fish, lobster, sugar, fat,\n and innumerable other things can transform these into\n human bioplasm, something chemically very different even\n from that of them which most resembles human tissue, is\n one of the most extraordinary facts in animal physiology.\n A crystal growing in a solution is not only not analogous\n to this process, it is in the sharpest possible contrast\n with it. The crystal grows only in the sense that it\n increases in bulk by accretions to its exterior, and only\n does that by being immersed in a solution of the same\n material as its own substance. It takes up to itself only\n material which is already similar to itself; this is not\n assimilation, it is merely incorporation.\n\n * * * * *\n\n \"The term 'growth,' strictly speaking, can be applied\n only to metabolism in the immature or convalescent\n organism. The healthy adult is not 'growing' in this\n sense; when of constant weight he is adding neither to\n his stature nor his girth, and yet he is assimilating as\n truly as ever he did. Put more technically: in the adult\n of stationary weight, anabolism is quantitatively equal\n to katabolism, whereas in the truly growing organism\n anabolism is prevailing over katabolism; and reversely in\n the wasting of an organism or in senile decay, katabolism\n is prevailing over anabolism. The crystal in its solution\n offers no analogies with the adult or the senile\n states--but these are of the very essence of the life of\n an organism....\n\n \"The fact, of course familiar to every beginner in\n biology, is that the crystal is only incorporating and\n not excreting anything, whereas the living matter is\n always excreting as well as assimilating. This one-sided\n metabolism--if it can be dignified with that term--is\n indeed characteristic of the crystal, but it is at no\n time characteristic of the living organism. The organism,\n whether truly growing or only in metabolic equilibrium,\n is constantly taking up material to replace effete\n material, is replenishing because it has previously\n displenished itself or cast off material. The resemblance\n between a so-called 'growing' crystal and a growing\n organism is verily of the most superficial kind.\"\n\nAnd Professor Fraser Harris concludes his article thus:--\n\n \"Between the living and the non-living there is a great\n gulf fixed, and no efforts of ours, however heroic, have\n as yet bridged it over.\"\n\n\nNOTE C.--OLD AGE\n\nWe know that as vitality diminishes the bodily deterioration called\nold age sets in, and that a certain amount of deterioration results\nin death; but it turns out, on systematic inquiry, that old age and\ndeath are not essential to living organisms. They represent the\ndeterioration and wearing out of working parts, so that the vivifying\nprinciple is hampered in its manifestation and cannot achieve results\nwhich with a younger and healthier machine were possible; but the\nparts which wear out are not the essential bearers of the vivifying\nprinciple; they are accreted or supplementary portions appropriate\nto developed individual earth life, and it does not appear\nimprobable that the progress of discovery may at least postpone the\ndeterioration that we call old age, for a much longer time than at\npresent. Emphasis on this distinction between germ cell and body\ncell, usually associated with Weismann, seems to have been formulated\nbefore him by Herdman of Liverpool.\n\nBiologists teach us that the phenomenon of old age is not evident in\nthe case of the unicellular organisms which reproduce by fission.\nThe cell can be killed, but it need neither grow old nor die. Death\nappears to be a prerogative of the higher organisms. But even among\nthese Professor Weismann adopts and defends the view that \"death is\nnot a primary necessity, but that it has been secondarily acquired\nby adaptation.\" The cell is not inherently limited in its number\nof cell-generations. The low unicellular organism is potentially\nimmortal; the higher multicellular form, with well-differentiated\norgans, contains the germ of death within its _soma_. Death seems to\nsupervene by reason of its utility to the species: continued life of\nan individual after a certain stage being comparatively useless. From\nthe point of view of the race the soma or main body is \"a secondary\nappendage of the real bearer of life--the reproductive cells.\"\nThe somatic cells probably lost their immortal qualities on this\nimmortality becoming useless to the species. Their mortality may have\nbeen a mere consequence of their differentiation. \"Natural death was\nnot introduced from absolute intrinsic necessity, inherent in the\nnature of living matter,\" says Weismann, \"but on grounds of utility;\nthat is from necessities which sprang up, not from the general\nconditions of life, but from those special conditions which dominate\nthe life of multicellular organisms.\"\n\nIt is not the germ cell itself, but the bodily accretion or\nappendage, which is abandoned by life, and which accordingly dies and\ndecays.\n\n [Footnote 32: See Explanatory Note A at end of chapter.]\n\n [Footnote 33: See Explanatory Note B.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nTHE MEANING OF THE TERM DEATH\n\n\"And Life, still wreathing flowers for Death to\nwear.\"--ROSSETTI\n\n\nWhatever Life may really be, it is to us an abstraction: for the word\nis a generalised term to signify that which is common to all animals\nand plants, and which is not directly operative in the inorganic\nworld. To understand life we must study living things, to see what\nis common to them all. An organism is alive when it moulds matter to\na characteristic form, and utilises energy for its own purposes--the\npurposes especially of growth and reproduction. A living organism,\nso far as it is alive, preserves its complicated structure from\ndeterioration and decay.[34]\n\nDeath is the cessation of that controlling influence over matter and\nenergy, so that thereafter the uncontrolled activity of physical and\nchemical forces supervene. Death is not the absence of life merely,\nthe term signifies its departure or separation, the severance of the\nabstract principle from the concrete residue. The term only truly\napplies to that which has been living.\n\nDeath therefore may be called a dissociation, a dissolution, a\nseparation of a controlling entity from a physicochemical organism;\nit may be spoken of in general and vague terms as a separation\nof soul and body, if the term 'soul' is reduced to its lowest\ndenomination.\n\nDeath is not extinction. Neither the soul nor the body is\nextinguished or put out of existence. The body weighs just as much\nas before, the only properties it loses at the moment of death are\npotential properties. So also all we can assert concerning the vital\nprinciple is that it no longer animates that material organism: we\ncannot safely make further assertion regarding it, or maintain its\nactivity or its inactivity without further information.\n\nWhen we say that a body is dead we may be speaking accurately. When\nwe say that a _person_ is dead, we are using an ambiguous term;\nwe may be referring to his discarded body, in which case we may\nbe speaking truly and with precision. We may be referring to his\npersonality, his character, to what is really himself; in which case\nthough we must admit that we are speaking popularly, the term is\nnot quite simply applicable. He has gone, he has passed on, he has\n\"passed through the body and gone,\" as Browning says in _Abt Vogler_,\nbut he is--I venture to say--certainly not dead in the same sense as\nthe body is dead. It is his absence which allows the body to decay,\nhe himself need be subject to no decay nor any destructive influence.\nRather he is emancipated; he is freed from the burden of the flesh,\nthough with it he has also lost those material and terrestrial\npotentialities which the bodily mechanism conferred upon him; and\nif he can exert himself on the earth any more, it can only be with\nsome difficulty and as it were by permission and co-operation of\nthose still here. It appears as if sometimes and occasionally he can\nstill stimulate into activity suitable energetic mechanism, but his\naccustomed machinery for manifestation has been lost: or rather it is\nstill there for a time, but it is out of action, it is dead.\n\nNevertheless inasmuch as those who have lost their material body have\npassed through the process of dissolution or dissociative severance\nwhich we call death, it is often customary to speak of them as dead.\nThey are no longer living, if by living we mean associated with a\nmaterial body of the old kind; and in that sense we need not hesitate\nto speak of them collectively as 'the dead.'\n\nWe need not be afraid of the word, nor need we resent its use or\nhesitate to employ it, when once we and our hearers understand the\nsense in which it may rightly be employed. If ideas associated with\nthe term had always been sensible and wholesome, people need have had\nno compunction at all about using it. But by the populace, and by\nEcclesiastics also, the term has been so misused, and the ideas of\npeople have been so confused by insistent concentration on merely\nphysical facts, and by the necessary but over-emphasised attention to\nthe body left behind, that it was natural for a time to employ other\nwords, until the latent ambiguity had ceased to be troublesome. And\noccasionally, even now, it is well to be emphatic in this direction,\nin order to indicate our disagreement with the policy of harping\non worms and graves and epitaphs, or on the accompanying idea of a\nGeneral Resurrection, with reanimation of buried bodies. Hence in\nstrenuous contradiction to all this superstition comes the use of\nsuch phrases as 'transition' or 'passing,' and the occasional not\nstrictly justifiable assertion that \"there is no death.\"\n\nFor as a matter of familiar fact death there certainly is; and to\ndeny a fact is no assistance. No one really means to deny a fact;\nthose who make the statement only want to divert thoughts from a side\nalready too much emphasised, and to concentrate attention on another\nside. What they mean is, there is no extinction. They definitely\nmean to maintain that the process called death is a mere severence\nof soul and body, and that the soul is freed rather than injured\nthereby. The body alone dies and decays; but there is no extinction\neven for it--only a change. For the other part there can hardly\nbe even a change--except a change of surroundings. It is unlikely\nthat character and personality are liable to sudden revolutions or\nmutations. Potentially they may be different, because of different\nopportunities, but actually at the moment they are the same. Likening\nexistence to a curve, the curvature has changed, but there is no\nother discontinuity.\n\nDeath is not a word to fear, any more than birth is. We change our\nstate at birth, and come into the world of air and sense and myriad\nexistence; we change our state at death and enter a region of--what?\nOf Ether, I think, and still more myriad existence; a region in which\ncommunion is more akin to what we here call telepathy, and where\nintercourse is not conducted by the accustomed indirect physical\nprocesses; but a region in which beauty and knowledge are as vivid as\nthey are here: a region in which progress is possible, and in which\n\"admiration, hope, and love\" are even more real and dominant. It is\nin this sense that we can truly say, \"The dead are not dead, but\nalive.\" \u03bf\u03cd\u03b4\u03ad \u03c4\u03b5\u03b8\u03bd\u1fb7\u03c3\u03b9 \u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u1f78\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2.\n\n\nAPPENDIX ON FEELINGS WHEN DEATH IS IMMINENT\n\nPRELIMINARY STATEMENT BY O. J. L.\n\nA lady was brought by a friend to call on us at Mariemont during a\nbrief visit to Edgbaston, and I happened to have a talk with her\nin the garden. I found that she had been one of the victims of the\n_Lusitania_, and as she seemed very cheerful and placid about it,\nI questioned her as to her feelings on the occasion. I found her a\ncharming person, and she entered into the matter with surprising\nfulness, considering that she was a complete stranger. Her chief\nanxiety seems to have been for her husband, whom she had left either\nin America or the West Indies, and for her friends generally; but on\nher own behalf she seems to have felt extremely little anxiety or\ndiscomfort of any kind. She told me she had given up hope of being\nsaved, and was only worried about friends mourning on her behalf and\nthinking that she must have suffered a good deal, whereas, in point\nof fact, she was not really suffering at all. She was young and\nhealthy, and apparently felt no evil results from the three hours'\nimmersion. She was sucked down by the ship, and when she came to the\nsurface again, her first feeling was one of blank surprise at the\ndisappearance of what had brought her across the Atlantic. The ship\nwas \"not there.\"\n\nI thought her account so interesting, that after a few months I got\nher address from the friend with whom she had been staying, and wrote\nasking if she would write it down for me. In due course she did so,\nwriting from abroad, and permits me to make use of the statement,\nprovided I suppress her name; which accordingly I do, quoting the\ndocument otherwise in full.\n\n_The Document referred to_\n\n \"Your letter came to me as a great pleasure and surprise.\n I have always remembered the sympathy with which you\n listened to me, that morning at Edgbaston, and sometimes\n wondered at the amount I said, as it is not easy to give\n expression to feelings and speculations which are only\n roused at critical moments in one's life.\n\n \"What you ask me to do is not easy, as I am only one of\n those who are puzzling and groping in the dark--while you\n have found so much light for yourself and have imparted\n it to others.\n\n \"I would like, however, most sincerely to try to recall\n my sensations with regard to that experience, if they\n would be of any value to you.\n\n \"It would be absurd to say now, that from the beginning\n of the voyage I knew what would happen; it was not a\n very actual knowledge, but I was conscious of a distinct\n forewarning, and the very calmness and peace of the\n voyage seemed, in a way, a state of waiting for some\n great event. Therefore when the ship was rent by the\n explosion (it was as sudden as the firing of a pistol) I\n felt no particular shock, because of that curious inner\n expectancy. The only acute feeling I remember at the\n moment was one of anger that such a crime could have been\n committed; the fighting instinct predominated in the face\n of an unseen but near enemy. I sometimes think it was\n partly that same instinct--the desire to die game--that\n accounted for the rather grim calmness of some of the\n passengers. After all--it was no ordinary shipwreck, but\n a Chance of War. I put down my book and went round to the\n other side of the ship where a great many passengers were\n gathering round the boats; it was difficult to stand, as\n the _Lusitania_ was listing heavily. There seemed to be\n no panic whatever; I went into my cabin, a steward very\n kindly helped me with a life-jacket, and advised me to\n throw away my fur coat. I felt no hurry or anxiety, and\n returned on deck, where I stood with some difficulty--\n discussing our chances with an elderly man I just knew by\n sight.\n\n \"It was then I think we realised what a strong instinct\n there was in some of us--_not_ to struggle madly for\n life--but to wait for something to come to us, whether\n it be life or death; and not to lose our personality and\n become like one of the struggling shouting creatures who\n were by then swarming up from the lower decks and made\n one's heart ache. I never felt for a moment that my time\n to cross over had come--not until I found myself in the\n water--floating farther and farther away from the scene\n of wreckage and misery--in a sea as calm and vast as the\n sky overhead. Behind me, the cries of those who were\n sinking grew fainter, the splash of oars and the calls\n of those who were doing rescue work in the lifeboats;\n there seemed to be no possibility of rescue for me; so I\n reasoned with myself and said, 'The time _has_ come--you\n must believe it--the time to cross over'--but inwardly\n and persistently something continued to say, 'No--not\n now.'\n\n \"The gulls were flying overhead and I remember noticing\n the beauty of the blue shadows which the sea throws up\n to their white feathers: they were very happy and alive\n and made me feel rather lonely; my thoughts went to my\n people--looking forward to seeing me, and at that moment\n having tea in the garden at ----; the idea of their grief\n was unbearable--I had to cry a little. Names of books\n went through my brain;--one specially, called 'Where\n no Fear is,' seemed to express my feeling at the time!\n Loneliness, yes, and sorrow on account of the grief\n of others--but no Fear. It seemed very normal,--very\n right,--a natural development of some kind about to take\n place. How can it be otherwise, when it _is_ natural?\n I rather wished I knew some one on the other side, and\n wondered if there are friendly strangers there who come\n to the rescue. I was very near the border-line when a\n wandering lifeboat quietly came up behind me and two men\n bent down and lifted me in. It was extraordinary how\n quickly life came rushing back;--every one in the boat\n seemed very self-possessed--although there was one man\n dead and another losing his reason. One woman expressed\n a hope for a 'cup of tea' shortly--a hope which was\n soon to be realised for all of us in a Mine Sweeper\n from Queenstown. I have forgotten her name--but shall\n always remember the kindness of her crew--specially the\n Chief Officer, who saved me much danger by giving me dry\n clothes and hot towels.\n\n \"All this can be of very little interest to you--I have\n no skill in putting things on paper;--but, you know. I\n am glad to have been near the border; to have had the\n feeling of how very near it is _always_--only there are\n so many little things always going on to absorb one here.\n\n \"Others on that day were passing through a Gate which was\n not open for me--but I do not expect they were afraid\n when the time came--they too probably felt that whatever\n they were to find would be beautiful--only a fulfilment\n of some kind.... I have reason to think that the passing\n from here is very painless--at least when there is no\n illness. We seemed to be passing through a stage on the\n road of Life.\"\n\n\n [Footnote 34: See Note C at end of preceding chapter.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nDEATH AND DECAY\n\n\"All, that doth live, lives always!\"--EDWIN ARNOLD\n\n\nConsider now the happenings to the discarnate body. In the first\nplace, I repeat, it is undesirable to concentrate attention on\na grave. The discarnate body must be duly attended to when done\nwith; the safety of the living is a paramount consideration; the\nliving must retain control over what is dead. Uncontrolled natural\nforces are often dangerous: the only thing harmful about a flood\nor a fire is the absence of control. Either the operations must be\nsupervised and intelligently directed, or they must be subjected\nto such disabilities that they can do no harm. But to associate\ncontinued personality with a dead body, such as is suggested by\nphrases like \"lay him in the earth\", or \"here lies such an one,\" or\nto anticipate any kind of physical resuscitation, is unscientific and\npainful. Unfortunately the orthodox religious world at some epochs\nhas attached superstitious importance, not to the decent disposal,\nbut to the imagined future of the body. Painful and troublesome to\nhumanity those rites have been. The tombs of Egypt are witness to the\nharassing need felt by the living to provide their loved ones with\nsymbols or tokens of all that they might require in a future state of\nexistence,--as if material things were needed by them any more, or as\nif we could provide them if they were.[35] The simple truth is always\nso much saner and happier than the imaginings of men; or, as Dr.\nSchuster said in his Presidential address to the British Association\nat Manchester, 1915,--\"The real world is far more beautiful than any\nof our dreams.\"\n\nWhat is the simple truth? It can be regarded from two points of view,\nthe prosaic and the poetic.\n\nProsaically we can say that the process of decay, if regarded\nscientifically, is not in itself necessarily repugnant. It may be\nas interesting as fermentation or any other chemical or biological\nprocess. Putrefaction, like poison, is hostile to higher living\norganisms, and hence a self-protecting feeling of disgust has arisen\nround it, in the course of evolution. An emotional feeling arises\nin the mind of anyone who has to combat any process or operation of\nnature,--like the violent emotions excited in an extreme teetotaller\nby the word 'drink': a result of the evil its profanation has done;\nfor the verb itself is surely quite harmless. Presumably a criminal\nassociates disagreeable anticipations with the simple word 'hanging.'\nThe idea of a rank weed is repulsive to a gardener, but not to a\nbotanist; the idea of disease is repellent to a prospective patient,\nnot to a doctor or bacteriologist; the idea of dirt is objectionable\nto a housewife, but it is only matter out of place; the word 'poison'\nconveys nothing objectionable to a chemist. Everything removed from\nthe emotional arena, and transplanted into the intellectual, becomes\ninteresting and tractable and worthy of study. Living organisms of\nevery kind are good in themselves, though when out of place and\nbeyond control they may be harmful. A tiger is an object of dread to\nan Indian village: to a hunting party he may be keenly attractive.\nIn any case he is a lithe and beautiful and splendid creature.\nMicroscopic organisms may have troublesome and destructive effects,\nbut in themselves they can be studied with interest and avidity. All\nliving creatures have their assuredly useful function, only it may\nbe a function on which we naturally shrink from dwelling when in an\nemotional mood. Everything of this kind is an affair of mood; and,\nproperly regarded, nothing in nature is common or unclean. That a\nflying albatross is a beautiful object every one can cordially admit,\nbut that the crawling surface of a stagnant sea can be regarded with\nfriendly eyes seems an absurdity; yet there is nothing absurd in it.\nIt is surely the bare truth concerning all living creatures of every\ngrade, that \"the Lord God made them all\"; and it was of creeping\nwater-snakes that the stricken Mariner at length, when he had learnt\nthe lesson, ejaculated:--\n\n \"O happy living things!\n A spring of love gushed from my heart,\n And I blessed them unaware.\"\n\nFor what can be said poetically about the fate of the beloved body, the\npoets themselves must be appealed to. But that there is kinship between\nthe body and the earth is literal truth. Of terrestrial particles it is\nwholly composed, and that they should be restored to the earth whence\nthey were borrowed is natural and peaceful. Moreover, out of the same\nearth, and by aid of the very same particles, other helpful forms of\nlife may arise; and though there may be no conscious unification or\nreal identity, yet it is pardonable to associate, in an imaginative and\npoetic mood, the past and future forms assumed by the particles:--\n\n \"Lay her i' the earth;--\n And from her fair and unpolluted flesh,\n May violets spring!\"\n\nQuotations are hardly necessary to show that this idea runs through\nall poetry. An ancient variety is enshrined in the Hyacinthus and\nAdonis legends. From spilt blood an inscribed lily springs, in the\none tale; and the other we may quote in Shakespeare's version (_Venus\nand Adonis_):--\n\n \"And in his blood that on the ground lay spilled,\n A purple flower sprung up chequered with white,\n Resembling well his pale cheeks and the blood\n Which in round drops upon their whiteness stood.\"\n\nSo also Tennyson:--\n\n \"And from his ashes may be made\n The violet of his native land.\"\n\n _In Memoriam_\n\nWe find the same idea again, I suppose, in the eastern original of\nFitzgerald's well-known stanza:--\n\n \"And this delightful Herb whose tender Green\n Fledges the River's Lip on which we lean--\n Ah, lean upon it lightly! for who knows\n From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen!\"\n\nThe soil of a garden is a veritable charnel-house of vegetable and\nanimal matter, and from one point of view represents death and decay,\nbut the coltsfoot covering an abandoned heap of refuse, or the briar\ngrowing amid ruin, shows that Nature only needs time to make it all\nbeautiful again. Let us think of the body as transmuted, not as\nstored.\n\nThe visible shape of the body was no accident, it corresponded to\na reality, for it was caused by the indwelling vivifying essence;\nand affection entwines itself inevitably round not only the true\npersonality of the departed, but round its material vehicle also--the\nsign and symbol of so much beauty, so much love. Symbols appeal to\nthe heart of humanity, and anything cherished and honoured becomes\nin itself a thing of intrinsic value, which cannot be regarded with\nindifference. The old and tattered colours of a regiment, for which\nmen have laid down their lives--though replaced perhaps by something\nnewer and more durable--cannot be relegated to obscurity without a\npang. And any sensitive or sympathetic person, contemplating such\nrelics hereafter, may feel some echo of the feeling with which they\nwere regarded, and may become acquainted with their history and the\nscenes through which they have passed.\n\n * * * * *\n\nIn such cases the kind of knowledge to be gained from the relic,\nand the means by which additional information can be acquired,\nare intelligible; but in other cases also information can be\nattained, though by means at present not understood. It may sound\nsuperstitious, but it is a matter of actual experience, that some\nsensitives have intuitive perception, of an unfamiliar kind,\nconcerning the history and personal associations of relics or\nfragments or personal belongings. The faculty is called psychometry;\nand it is no more intelligible, although no less well-evidenced, than\nthe possibly allied faculty of dowsing or so-called water-divining.\nPsychometry is a large subject on which much has already been\nwritten: this brief mention must here suffice.\n\nIt seems to me that these facts, when at length properly\nunderstood, will throw some light on the connexion between mind\nand matter; and then many another obscure region of semi-science\nand semi-superstition will be illuminated. At present in all such\ntracts we have to walk warily, for the ground is uneven and insecure;\nand it is better, or at least safer, for the majority to forgo the\nrecognition of some truth than rashly to invade a district full of\nentanglements and pitfalls.\n\n\nTRANSITION\n\nLongfellow's line, \"There is no death; what seems so is transition,\"\nat once suggests itself. Read literally the first half of this\nsentence is obviously untrue, but in the sense intended, and as\na whole, the statement is true enough. There is no extinction,\nand the change called death is the entrance to a new condition of\nexistence--what may be called a new life.\n\nYet life itself is continuous, and the conditions of the whole of\nexistence remain precisely as before. Circumstances have changed\nfor the individual, but only in the sense that he is now aware of a\ndifferent group of facts. The change of surroundings is a subjective\none. The facts were of course there, all the time, as the stars are\nthere in the daytime; but they were out of our ken. Now these come\ninto our ken, and others fade into memory.\n\nThe Universe is one, not two. Literally there is no 'other'\nworld--except in the limited and partial sense of other planets--the\nUniverse is one. We exist in it continuously all the time; sometimes\nconscious in one way, sometimes conscious in another; sometimes aware\nof a group of facts on one side of a partition, sometimes aware of\nanother group, on the other side. But the partition is a subjective\none; we are all one family all the time, so long as the link of\naffection is not broken. And for those who believe in prayer at\nall to cease from praying for the welfare of their friends because\nthey are materially inaccessible--though perhaps spiritually more\naccessible than before--is to succumb unduly to the residual evil\nof past ecclesiastical abuses, and to lose an opportunity of happy\nservice.\n\n [Footnote 35: It is rash to condemn a human custom\n which has prevailed for centuries or millenniums, and\n it is wrong to treat it _de haut en bas_. I would not\n be understood as doing so, in this brief and inadequate\n reference to the contents of Egyptian tombs. Their fuller\n interpretation awaits the labour of students now working\n at them.\n\n In the same spirit I wish to leave open the question of\n what possible rational interpretation may be given to the\n medi\u00e6val phrase \"Resurrection of the body\"; a subject on\n which much has been written. What I am contending against\n is not the scholarly but the popular interpretation. For\n further remarks on this subject see Chapter VII below.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nCONTINUED EXISTENCE\n\n\nDIFFICULTY OF BELIEF IN CONTINUED EXISTENCE\n\n \"Sit down before fact as a little child, be prepared to\n give up every preconceived notion, follow humbly wherever\n and to whatsoever abysses Nature leads.\"--HUXLEY.\n\nPeople often feel a notable difficulty in believing in the reality\nof continued existence. Very likely it is difficult to believe or\nto realise existence in what is sometimes called \"the next world\";\nbut then, when we come to think of it, it is difficult to believe in\nexistence in this world too; it is difficult to believe in existence\nat all. The whole problem of existence is a puzzling one. It could\nby no means have been predicated _a priori_. The whole thing is a\nquestion of experience; that is, of evidence. We know by experience\nthat things actually do exist; though how they came into being, and\nwhat they are all for, and what consequences they have, is more\nthan we can tell. We have no reason for asserting that the kind we\nare familiar with is the only kind of existence possible, unless\nwe choose to assert it on the ground that we have no experience of\nany other. But that is becoming just the question at issue: have we\nany evidence, either direct or indirect, for any other existence\nthan this? If we have, it is futile to cite in opposition to it the\ndifficulty of believing in the reality of such an existence; we\nsurely ought to be guided by facts.\n\nAt this stage in the history of the human race few facts of science\nare better established and more widely appreciated than the main\nfacts of Astronomy: a general acquaintance with the sizes and\ndistances, and the enormous number, of the solar systems distributed\nthroughout space is prevalent. Yet to the imaginative human mind the\nfacts, if really grasped, are overwhelming and incredible.\n\nThe sun a million times bigger than the earth; Arcturus a hundred\ntimes bigger than the sun, and so distant that light has taken two\ncenturies to come, though travelling at a rate able to carry it to\nNew York and back in less than the twentieth part of a second,--facts\nlike these are commonplaces of the nursery; but even as bare facts\nthey are appalling.\n\nThat the earth is a speck invisible from any one of the stars, that\nwe are on a world which is but one among an innumerable multitude of\nothers, ought to make us realise the utter triviality of any view of\nexistence based upon familiarity with street and train and office,\nought to give us some sense of proportion between everyday experience\nand ultimate reality. Even the portentous struggle in which Europe is\nengaged--\n\n \"What is it all but a trouble of ants in the gleam of a\n million million of suns?\"\n\nYet, for true interpretation, the infinite worth and vital importance\nof each individual human soul must be apprehended too. And that\nis another momentous fact, which, so far from restricting the\npotentialities of existence, by implication still further enlarges\nthem. The multiplicity, the many-sidedness, the magnificence, of\nmaterial existence does not dwarf the human soul; far otherwise: it\nillumines and expands the stage upon which the human drama is being\nplayed, and ought to make us ready to perceive how far greater still\nmay be the possibilities--nay, the actualities--before it, in its\ninfinite unending progress.\n\nThat we know little about such possibilities as yet, proves\nnothing;--for mark how easy it would have been to be ignorant of the\nexistence of all the visible worlds and myriad modes of being in\nspace. Not until the business of the day is over, and our great star\nhas eclipsed itself behind the earth, not until the serener period of\nnight, does the grandeur of the material universe force itself upon\nour attention. And, even then, let there be but a slight permanent\nthickening of our atmosphere, and we should have had no revelation\nof any world other than our own. Under those conditions--so barely\nescaped from--how wretchedly meagre and limited would have been our\nconception of the Universe! Aye, and, unless we foolishly imagine\nthat our circumstances are such as to have already given us a clue to\nevery kind of possible existence, I venture to say that \"wretchedly\nmeagre and limited\" must be a true description of our conception of\nthe Universe, even now,--even of the conception of those who have\npermitted themselves, with least hesitation, to follow whithersoever\nfacts lead.\n\nIf there be any group of scientific or historical or literary\nstudents who advocate what they think to be a sensible, but what\nI regard as a purblind, view of existence, based upon already\nsystematised knowledge and on unfounded and restricting speculation\nas to probable boundaries and limitations of existence,--if such\nstudents take their own horizon to be the measure of all things,--the\nfact is to be deplored. Such workers, however admirable their\nindustry and detailed achievements, represent a school of thought\nagainst the fruits of which we of the Allied Nations are in arms.\n\nNevertheless speculation of this illegitimate and negative kind is\nnot unknown among us. It originates partly in admiration for the\nsuccessful labours of a bygone generation in clearing away a quantity\nof clinging parasitic growth which was obscuring the fair fabric of\nascertained truth, and partly in an innate iconoclastic enthusiasm.\n\nThe success which has attended Darwinian and other hypotheses has\nhad a tendency to lead men--not indeed men of Darwinian calibre, but\nsmaller and less conscientious men--in science as well as in history\nand theology, to an over-eager confidence in probable conjecture\nand inadequate attention to facts of experience. It has even been\nsaid--I quote from a writer in the volume _Darwin and Modern\nScience_, published in connexion with a Darwin jubilee celebration at\nCambridge--that \"the age of materialism was the least matter-of-fact\nage conceivable, and the age of science the age which showed least of\nthe patient temper of enquiry.\" I would not go so far as this myself,\nthe statement savours of exaggeration, but there is a regrettable\ntendency in surviving materialistic quarters for combatants to\nentrench themselves in dogma and preconceived opinion, to regard\nthese vulnerable shelters as sufficient protection against observed\nand recorded facts, and even to employ them as strongholds from which\nalien observation-posts can be shattered and overthrown.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nPAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE\n\n \"How often have men thus feared that Nature's wonders\n would be degraded by being closelier looked into! How\n often, again, have they learnt that the truth was higher\n than their imagination; and that it is man's work, but\n never Nature's, which to be magnificent must remain\n unknown!\"--F. W. H. M., Introduction to _Phantasms of the\n Living_\n\n\nOur actual experience is strangely limited. We cannot be actually\nconscious of more than a single instant of time. The momentary flash\nwhich we call the present, the visual image of which can be made\npermanent by the snap of a camera, is all of the external world that\nwe directly apprehended. But our real existence embraces far more\nthan that. The present, alone and isolated, would be meaningless to\nus; we look before and after. Our memories are thronged with the\npast; our anticipations range over the future; and it is in the past\nand the future that we really live. It is so even with the higher\nanimals: they too order their lives by memory and anticipation. It is\nunder the influence of the future that the animal world performs even\nthe most trivial conscious acts. We eat, we rest, we work, all with\nan eye to the immediate future. The present moment is illuminated\nand made significant, is controlled and dominated, by experience of\nthe past and by expectation of the future. Without any idea of the\nfuture our existence would be purely mechanical and meaningless: with\ntoo little eye to the future--a mere living from hand to mouth--it\nbecomes monotonous and dull.\n\nHence it is right that humanity, transcending merely animal scope,\nshould seek to answer questions concerning its origin and destiny,\nand should regard with intense interest every clue to the problems\nof 'whence' and 'whither.'\n\nIt is no doubt possible, as always, to overstep the happy mean, and\nby absorption in and premature concern with future interests to lose\nthe benefit and the training of this present life. But although we\nmay rightly decide to live with full vigour in the present, and do\nour duty from moment to moment, yet in order to be full-flavoured and\nreally intelligent beings--not merely with mechanical drift following\nthe line of least resistance--we ought to be aware that there is a\nfuture,--a future determined to some extent by action in the present;\nand it is only reasonable that we should seek to ascertain, roughly\nand approximately, what sort of future it is likely to be.\n\nInquiry into survival, and into the kind of experience through which\nwe shall all certainly have to go in a few years, is therefore\neminently sane, and may be vitally significant. It may colour all\nour actions, and give a vivid meaning both to human history and to\npersonal experience.\n\nIf death is not extinction, then on the other side of dissolution\nmental activity must continue, and must be interacting with other\nmental activity. For the fact of telepathy proves that bodily\norgans are not absolutely essential to communication of ideas. Mind\nturns out to be able to act directly on mind, and stimulate it into\nresponse by other than material means. Thought does not belong to the\nmaterial region: although it is able to exert an influence on that\nregion through mechanism provided by vitality. Yet the means whereby\nit accomplishes the feat are essentially unknown, and the fact that\nsuch interaction is possible would be strange and surprising if we\nwere not too much accustomed to it. It is reasonable to suppose that\nthe mind can be more at home, and more directly and more exuberantly\nactive, where the need for such interaction between psychical and\nphysical--or let us more safely and specifically say between mental\nand material--no longer exists, when the restraining influence\nof brain and nerve mechanism is removed, and when some of the\nlimitations connected with bodily location in space are ended.\n\nExperience must be our guide. To shut the door on actual observation\nand experiment in this particular region, because of preconceived\nideas and obstinate prejudices, is an attitude common enough, even\namong scientific men; but it is an attitude markedly unscientific.\nCertain people have decided that inquiry into the activities of\ndiscarnate mind is futile; some few consider it impious; many,\nperhaps wisely mistrusting their own powers, shrink from entering on\nsuch an inquiry. But if there are any facts to be ascertained, it\nmust be the duty of some volunteers to try to ascertain them: and for\npeople having any acquaintance with scientific history to shut their\neyes to facts when definitely announced, and to forbid investigation\nor report concerning them on pain of ostracism,--is to imitate a\nbygone theological attitude in a spirit of unintended flattery--a\nflattery which from every point of view is eccentric; and likewise to\ndisplay an extraordinary lack of humour.\n\n\nON THE POSSIBILITY OF PROGNOSTICATION\n\nI do not wish to complicate the issue at present by introducing\nthe idea of prognostication or prevision, for I do not understand\nhow anticipation of the future is possible. It is only known to be\npossible by one of two processes--\n\n (_a_) Inference--_i.e._ deduction from a wide knowledge of the\n present;\n\n (_b_) Planning--_i.e._ the carrying out of a prearranged scheme.\n\nAnd these methods must be pressed to the utmost before admitting any\nother hypothesis.\n\nAs to the possibility of prevision in general, I do not dogmatise,\nnor have I a theory wherewith to explain every instance; but I keep\nan open mind and try to collate and contemplate the facts.\n\nScientific prediction is familiar enough; science is always either\nhistoric or prophetic (as Dr. Schuster said at Manchester in\nthe British Association Address for 1915), \"and history is only\nprophecy pursued in the negative direction.\" This thesis is worth\nillustrating:--That Eclipses can be calculated forwards or backwards\nis well known. A tide-calculating machine, again, which is used\nto churn out tidal detail in advance by turning a handle, could be\nas easily run backwards and give past tides if they were wanted;\nbut always on the assumption that no catastrophe, no unforeseen\ncontingency, nothing outside the limits of the data, occurs to\ninterfere with the placid course of phenomena. There must be no\ndredging or harbour bar operations, for instance, if the tide machine\nis to be depended on. Free-will is not allowed for, in Astronomy or\nPhysics; nor any interference by living agents.\n\nThe real truth is that, except for unforeseen contingencies, past,\npresent, and future are welded together in a coherent whole; and\nto a mind with wider purview, to whom perhaps hardly anything is\nunforeseen, there may be possibilities of inference to an unsuspected\nextent. Human character, and action based upon it, may be more\ntrustworthy and uncapricious than is usually supposed; and data\ndepending on humanity may be included in a completer scheme of\nforeknowledge, without the exercise of any compulsion. \"The past,\"\nsays Bertrand Russell eloquently, \"does not change or strive; like\nDuncan, after life's fitful fever it sleeps well; what was eager\nand grasping, what was petty and transitory, has faded away; the\nthings that were beautiful and eternal shine out of it like stars in\nthe night.\" My ignorance will not allow me to attempt to compose a\nsimilar or rather a contrasting sentence about the future.\n\nREFERENCE TO SPECIAL CASES\n\n It will be observed that none of those indications or\n intimations or intuitions which are referred to in a\n note on page 34, Part I, if they mean anything, raise\n the difficult question of prevision. In every case the\n impression was felt after or at the time of the event,\n though before reception of the news. The only question\n of possible prevision in the present instance arises in\n connexion with the 'Faunus' message quoted and discussed\n in Part II. But even here nothing more than kindly\n provision, in case anything untoward should happen, need\n be definitely assumed. Moreover, if the concurrence in\n time suggests prognostication, the fact that a formidable\n attempt to advance the English Front at the Ypres salient\n was probably in prospect in August 1915, though not known\n to ordinary people in England, and not fully carried\n out till well on in September, must have been within\n human knowledge; and so would have to be considered\n telepathically accessible, if that hypothesis is\n considered preferable to the admission of what Tennyson\n speaks of as--\n\n \"Such refraction of events As often rises ere they rise.\"\n\n Prognostication can hardly be part of the evidence for\n survival. The two things are not essential to each other;\n they hardly appear to be connected. But one knows too\n little about the whole thing to be sure even of this, and\n I decline to take the responsibility for suppressing any\n of the facts. I know that Mr. Myers used to express an\n opinion that certain kinds of prevision would constitute\n clear and satisfactory evidence of something supernormal,\n and so attract attention; though the establishment of\n such a possibility might tend to suggest a kind of higher\n knowledge, not far short of what might be popularly\n called omniscience, rather than of merely human survival.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nINTERACTION OF MIND AND MATTER\n\n \"Spiritus intus alit, totamque infusa per artus\n Mens agitat molem, et magno se corpore miscet.\"\n\n _\u00c6neid_, vi. 726\n\n\nLife and mind and consciousness do not belong to the material region;\nwhatever they are in themselves, they are manifestly something quite\ndistinct from matter and energy, and yet they utilise the material\nand dominate it.\n\nMatter is arranged and moved by means of energy, but often at the\nbehest of life and mind. Mind does not itself exert force, nor does\nit enter into the scheme of physics, and yet it indirectly brings\nabout results which otherwise would not have happened. It definitely\ncauses movements and arrangements or constructions of a purposed\ncharacter. A bird grows a feather, and a bird builds a nest: I doubt\nif there is less design in the one case than in the other. How life\nachieves the guidance, how even it accomplishes the movements, is\na mystery, but that it does accomplish them is a commonplace of\nobservation. From the motion of a finger to the construction of an\naeroplane, there is but a succession of steps. From the growth of a\nweed to the flight of an eagle,--from a yeast granule at one end,\nto the human body at the other,--the organising power of life over\nmatter is conspicuous.\n\nWho can doubt the supremacy of the spiritual over the material? It is\na fact which, illustrated by trivial instances, may be pressed to the\nmost portentous consequences.\n\nIf interaction between mind and matter really occurs, and if both\nare persistent and enduring entities, there is no limit to the\npossibilities under which such interaction may occur--no limit which\ncan be laid down beforehand--we must be guided and instructed solely\nby experience.\n\nWhether the results produced are styled miraculous or not, depends\non our knowledge,--our knowledge of all the powers latent in nature,\nand a knowledge of all the intelligences which exist. A savage on\nhis first encounter with white men must have come into contact with\nwhat to him was supernatural. A letter, a gun, even artificial teeth,\nhave all aroused superstition; while a telegram must be obviously\nmiraculous, to anyone intelligent enough to perceive the wonder. A\ncolony of bees, unused to the ministrations or interference of man,\nmight puzzle itself over the provision made for its habitation and\nactivities, if it had intelligence enough to ponder the matter.\nSo human beings, if they are open-minded and developed enough to\ncontemplate all the happenings in which they are concerned, have been\nled to recognise guidance; and they have responded to the perception\nby the worshipful attitude of religion. In other words, they have\nessentially recognised the existence of a Power transcending ordinary\nnature--a Power that may properly be called supernatural.\n\n\nMEANING OF THE TERM BODY\n\nOur experience of bodies here and now is that they are composed\nof material particles derived from the earth, whether they be\nbodies animated by vegetable or by animal forms of life. But I\ntake it that the real meaning of the term 'body' is a _means of\nmanifestation_,--perhaps a physical mode of manifestation adopted\nby something which without such instrument or organ would be in a\ndifferent and elusive category. Why should we say that bodies must be\nmade of matter? Surely only because we know of nothing else of which\nthey could be made; but that lack of knowledge is not very efficient\nas an argument. True, if they were made of anything else they would\nnot be apparent to us now, with our particular evolutionally-derived\nsense organs; for these only inform us about matter and its\nproperties. Constructions built of Ether would have no chance of\nappealing to our senses, they would not be apparent to us; they\nwould therefore not be what we ordinarily call bodies; at any rate\nthey would not be material bodies. In order to become apparent to us,\na psychical or vital entity must enter the material realm, and either\nclothe itself with, or temporarily assimilate, material particles.\n\nIt may be that etherial bodies do not exist; the burden of proof\nrests upon those who conceive of their possible existence; but we\nare bound to admit that even if they did exist, they would make no\nimpression on our senses. Hence if there are any intelligences in\nanother order of existence interlocked with ours, and if they can in\nany sense be supposed to have bodies at all, those bodies must be\nmade either of Ether or of something equally intangible to us in our\npresent condition.[36]\n\nYet, though intangible and elusive, we have reason to know that Ether\nis substantial enough,--far more substantial indeed than matter,\nwhich turns out to be a rare and filmy insertion in, or modification\nof, the Ether of Space; and a different set of sense organs might\nmake the Ether eclipse matter in availability and usefulness. In my\nbook _The Ether of Space_ this thesis is elaborated from a purely\nphysical point of view.\n\nI wish, however, to make no assertion concerning the possible\npsychical use of the Ether of Space. Anything of that kind must\nbe speculative; the only bodies we now know of in actual fact are\nmaterial bodies, and we must be guided by facts. Yet we must not shut\nthe door prematurely on other possibilities; and we can remember\nthat inspired writers have sometimes contemplated what they term a\nspiritual body.\n\n\nPERMANENCE OF BODY\n\nBut why should anyone suppose a body of some kind always necessary?\nWhy should they assume a perpetual sort of dualism about existence?\nThe reason is that we have no knowledge of any other form of animate\nexistence; and it may be claimed as legitimate to assume that the\nassociation between life and matter here on the planet has a real\nand vital significance, that without such an episode of earth life\nwe should be less than we are, and that the relation is typical of\nsomething real and permanent.\n\n \"Such use may lie in blood and breath.\"--TENNYSON\n\n_Why_ matter should be thus useful to spirit and even to life it is\nnot easy to say. It may be that by the interaction of two things\nbetter and newer results can always be obtained than was possible\nfor one alone. There are analogies enough for that. Do we not find\nthat genius seems to require the obstruction or the aid of matter\nfor its full development? The artist must enjoy being able to compel\nrefractory material to express his meaning. Didactic writings are\napt to emphasise the obstructiveness of matter; but that may be\nbecause its usefulness seems self-evident. Our limbs, and senses,\nand bodily faculties generally, are surely of momentous service;\nmicroscopes and telescopes and laboratory instruments, and machinery\ngenerally, are only extensions of them. Tools to the man who can\nuse them:--orchestra to the musician, lathe or theodolite to the\nengineer, books and records to the historian, even though not much\nmore than pen and paper is needed by the poet or the mathematician.\n\nBut our bodily organs are much more than any artificial tools can be,\nthey are part of our very being. The body is part of the constitution\nof man. We are not spirit or soul alone,--though it is sometimes\nnecessary to emphasise the fact that we are soul at all,--we are in\ntruth soul and body together. And so I think we shall always be;\nthough our bodies need not always be composed of earthly particles.\nMatter is the accidental part: there is an essential and more\npermanent part, and the permanent part must survive.\n\nThis is the strength, as I have said elsewhere and will not now\nat any length repeat, of the sacramental claims and practices of\nreligion. Forms and customs which appeal to the body are a legitimate\npart of the whole; and while some natures derive most benefit from\nthe exclusively psychical and spiritual essence, others probably do\nwell to prevent the more sensuous and more puzzling concomitants from\nfalling into disuse.\n\n [Footnote 36: That a great poet should have represented\n the meeting between the still incarnate \u00c6neas and his\n discarnate father Anchises as a bodily disappointment, is\n consistent:--\n\n \"Ter conatus ibi collo dare brachia circum; Ter frustra\n comprensa manus effugit imago, Par levibus ventis,\n volucrique simillima somno.\"\n\n _\u00c6neid_, vi. 700\n\n It may be said that what is intangible ought to be\n invisible; but that does not follow. The Ether is a medium\n for vision, not for touch. Ether and Ether may interact,\n just as matter and matter interact; but interaction\n between Ether and matter is peculiarly elusive.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\n'RESURRECTION OF THE BODY'\n\n \"Never the spirit was born; the spirit shall cease to be never.\"\n\n EDWIN ARNOLD\n\n\nIn the whole unknown drama of the soul the episode of bodily\nexistence must have profound significance. Matter cannot only be\nobstructive, even usefully obstructive,--by which is meant the kind\nof obstruction which stimulates to effort and trains for power,\nlike the hurdles in an obstacle race,--it must be auxiliary too.\nWhatever may be the case with external matter, the body itself is\ncertainly an auxiliary, so long as it is in health and strength;\nand it gives opportunity for the development of the soul in new and\nunexpected ways--ways in which but for earth life its practice would\nbe deficient. This it is which makes calamity of too short a life.\n\nBut let us not be over-despondent about the tragedy of the present.\nIt may be that the concentrated training and courageous facing of\nfate which in most cases must have accompanied voluntary entry into\na dangerous war, compensates in intensity what it lacks in duration,\nand that the benefit of bodily terrestrial life is not so much lost\nby violent death of that kind as might at first appear. Yet even\nwith some such assurance, the spectacle of thousands of youths in\nfull vigour and joy of life having their earthly future violently\nwrenched from them, amid scenes of grim horror and nerve-wracking\nnoise and confusion, is one which cannot and ought not to be regarded\nwith equanimity. It is a bad and unnatural truncation of an important\npart of each individual career, a part which might have done much to\ndevelop faculties and enlarge experience.\n\nMeanwhile, the very fact that we lament so sincerely this dire\nand man-caused fate serves to illustrate the view we inevitably\ntake that the earth-body is not only a means of manifestation but\nis a real servant of the soul,--that flesh can in some sense help\nspirit as spirit can undoubtedly help flesh,--and that while its\nvery weaknesses are serviceable and stimulating, its strength is\nexhilarating and superb. The faculties and powers developed in the\nanimal kingdom during all the millions of years of evolution, and\nnow inherited for better for worse by man, are not to be despised.\nThose therefore who are able to think that some of the essential\nelements or attributes of the body are carried forward into a higher\nlife--quite irrespective of the manifestly discarded material\nparticles which never were important to the body, for they were\nalways in perpetual flux as individual molecules--those, I say, who\nthink that the value derived and acquired through the body survives,\nand becomes a permanent possession of the soul, may well feel that\nthey can employ the medi\u00e6val phrase \"resurrection of the body\" to\nexpress their perception. They may feel that it is a truth which\nneeds emphasising all the more from its lack of obviousness. These\nold phrases, consecrated by long usage, and familiar to all the\nsaints, though their early and superficial meaning is evidently\nsuperseded, may be found to have an inner and spiritual significance\nwhich when once grasped should be kept in memory, and brought before\nattention, and sustained against challenge: in no case should they be\nlightly or hastily discarded.\n\nIt seems not altogether fanciful to trace some similarity or analogy,\nbetween the ideas about inheritance usually associated with the name\nof Weismann, and the inheritance or conveyance of bodily attributes,\nor of powers acquired through the body, into the future life of the\nsoul.\n\nWhen considering whether anything, or what, is likely to be\npermanent, the answer turns upon whether or not the soul has been\naffected. Mere bodily accidents of course are temporary; loss of an\narm or an eye is no more carried on as a permanent disfigurement than\nit is transmissible to offspring. But, apart from accidents which may\nhappen to the body, there are some evil things--rendered accessible\nby and definitely associated with the body--which assault and hurt\nthe soul. And the effect of these is transmissible, and may become\npermanent. Habits which write their mark on the countenance--whether\nthe writing be good or bad--are not likely to take effect on\nthe body alone. And in this sense also future existence may be\neither glorified or stained, for a time, by persistence of bodily\ntraits,--by this kind of \"resurrection of the body.\"\n\nFurthermore it is found that although bodily marks, scars and wounds,\nare clearly not of soul-compelling and permanent character, yet\nfor purposes of identification, and when re-entering the physical\natmosphere for the purpose of communication with friends, these\ntemporary marks are re-assumed; just as the general appearance at\nthe remembered age, and details connected with clothes and little\nunessential tricks of manner, may--in some unknown sense--be assumed\ntoo.\n\nAnd it is to this category that I would attribute the curious\ninterest still felt in old personal possessions. They are attended to\nand recalled, not for what by a shopman is called their 'value,' but\nbecause they furnish useful and welcome evidence of identity; they\nare like the _pi\u00e8ces de conviction_ brought up at a trial, they bear\nsilent witness to remembered fact. And in so far as the disposal or\ntreatment of them by survivors is evidence of the regard in which\ntheir late owner was held, it is unlikely that they should have\nsuddenly become matters of complete indifference. Nothing human, in\nthe sense of affecting the human spirit, can be considered foreign to\na friendly and sympathetic soul, even though his new preoccupations\nand industries and main activities are of a different order. It\nappears as if, for the few moments of renewed earthly intercourse,\nthe newer surroundings shrink for a time into the background. They\nare remembered, but not vividly. Indeed it seems difficult to live\nin both worlds at once, especially after the life-long practice here\nof living almost exclusively in one. Those whose existence here was\ncoloured or ennobled by wider knowledge and higher aims seem likely\nto have the best chance of conveying instructive information across\nthe boundary; though their developed powers may be of such still\nhigher value, that only from a sense of duty or in a missionary\nspirit can they be expected to absent them from felicity while in\norder to help the brethren.\n\nQuotation of a passage from Plotinus seems here permissible:--\n\n\"Souls which once were in men, when they leave the body, need not\ncease from benefiting mankind. Some indeed, in addition to other\nservices, give occult messages (oracular replies), thus proving by\ntheir own case that other souls also survive\" (_Enn._ IV. vii. 15).\n\n * * * * *\n\nAs a digression of some importance, I venture to say that claims of\nthoughtless and pertinacious people upon the charitable and eminent,\neven here, are often excessive: it is to be hoped that such claims\nbecome less troublesome and less effective hereafter; but it is a\nhope without much foundation. Remonstrances are useless, however,\nfor only the more thoughtful and those most deserving of help are\nlikely to attend to remonstrances. Nevertheless--useless or not--it\nbehoves one to make them. We are indeed taught that in exceptional\ncases there may ultimately supervene such an extraordinary elevation\nof soul that no trouble is too great, and no appeal is unheard. But\nstill, even in the Loftiest case of all, the episode of having passed\nthrough a human body contributes to the power of sympathising with\nand aiding ordinary humanity.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nMIND AND BRAIN\n\n \"For nothing is that errs from law.\"--TENNYSON\n\n\nIt is sometimes thought that memory is located in the brain; and\nundoubtedly there must be some physiological process at work in the\nbrain when any incident of memory is recalled and either uttered or\nwritten. But it does not at all follow that memory itself is located\nin the brain; though there must be some easier channel, or some\nalready prepared path, which enables an idea to be translated from\nthe general mental reservoir into consciousness, with clarity and\npower sufficient to stimulate the necessary nerves and muscles into a\ncondition adequate for reproduction.\n\nSometimes in order to remember a thing, one writes it in a note-book;\nand the memory may be said to be in the note-book about as accurately\nas it may be said to be in the brain. A physical process has put it\nin the note-book; there is a physical configuration persisting there;\nand when a sort of reverse physical process is repeated, it can be\ngot back into consciousness by simply what we call 'looking' at the\nbook and reading. But surely the real memory is in the _mind_ all the\ntime, and the deposit in the note-book is a mere detent for calling\nit out or for making it easy of recovery. In order to communicate\nany information we must focus attention on it; and whether we\nfocus attention on a part of the brain or on a page of a note-book\nmatters very little; the attention itself is a mental process, not a\nphysiological one, though it has a physiological concomitant.\n\nThis is an important matter, the keystone in fact of our problem\nabout the connexion between mind and matter, and I propose to amplify\nits treatment further; for this is an unavoidably controversial\nportion of the book.\n\n\nTHE SEAT OF MEMORY\n\nI am familiar with all the usual analogies drawn between organic\nhabit and memory on the one hand, and the more ready repetition of\nphysical processes by inorganic material on the other. Imperfectly\nelastic springs, for instance, which show reminiscences of previous\nbendings or twistings by their subsequent unwindings; and cogs which\nwear into smooth running by repetition; are examples of this kind.\nA violin which by long practice becomes more musical in tone, is\nanother; or a path which by being often traversed becomes easier to\nthe feet. A flower-bed recently altered in shape, by being partly\ngrassed over, is liable to exhibit its former outline by aid of bulbs\nand other half-forgotten growths which come up through the grass in\nthe old pattern.\n\nThis last is a striking example of apparent memory, not indeed in the\ninorganic but in the unconscious world; where indeed it is prevalent,\nfor every one must recognise the memory of animals--there can be no\ndoubt of that. And it would seem that a kind of race-memory must be\ninvoked to account for many surprising cases of instinct; of which\nthe building of specific birds' nests, and the accurate pecking of a\nnewly-hatched chicken, are among the stock instances. No experience\ncan be lodged in the _brain_ of the newly-hatched!\n\nThat some sort of stored facility should exist in the adult brain,\nis in no way surprising; and that there is some physical or\nphysiological concomitant of actual remembrance is plain; but that is\na very different thing from asserting that memory itself, or any kind\nof consciousness, is located in the brain; though truly without the\naid of the brain it is, as far as this planet is concerned, latent\nand inaccessible.\n\nPlotinus puts the matter in an interesting but perhaps rather too\nextreme form:--\n\n \"As to memory, the body is an impediment ... the unstable\n and fluctuating nature of the body makes for oblivion not\n for memory. Body is a veritable River of Lethe. Memory\n belongs to the soul\" (_Enn._ IV. iii. 26).\n\nThe actual reproduction or remembrance of a fact--the demonstration\nor realisation of memory--undoubtedly depends on brain and muscle\nmechanism; but memory itself turns out to be essentially mental,\nand is found to exist apart from the bodily mechanism which helped\noriginally to receive and store the impression. And though without\nthat same or some equivalent mechanism we cannot get at it, so that\nit cannot be displayed to others, yet in my experience it turns out\nnot to be absolutely necessary to use actually the same instrument\nfor its reproduction as was responsible for its deposition:\nthough undoubtedly to use the same is easier and helpful. In the\nearly Edison phonographs the same instrument had to be used for\nboth reception and reproduction; but now a record can readily be\ntransferred from one instrument to another. This may be regarded as\na rough mechanical analogy to the telepathic or telergic process\nwhereby a psychic reservoir of memory can be partially tapped through\nanother organism.\n\nBut, apart from any consideration of what may be regarded as\ndoubtful or uncertain, there are some facts about the relation of\nbrain to consciousness, which, though universally admitted, are\nfrequently misinterpreted. Injure the brain, and consciousness\nis lost. 'Lost' is the right word--not 'destroyed.' Repair the\nlesion, and consciousness may be restored, i.e. normal manifestation\nof consciousness can once more occur. It is the _display_ of\nconsciousness, in all such cases, that we mean when we speak of the\neffect of brain injury; the utilisation of bodily organs is necessary\nfor its exhibition. If the bodily organs do not exist, or are too\ndamaged, no normal manifestation is possible. That is the fact which\nmay be misinterpreted.\n\nIn general we may say, with fair security, that no receptivity to\nphysical phenomena exists save through sense-organ, nerve, and brain;\nnor any initiation of physical phenomena, save through brain, nerve,\nand muscle. Apart from physical phenomena consciousness is isolated\nand inaccessible: we have no right to say that it is non-existent.\nIn ordinary usage it is not customary or necessary to be always\nharping on this completer aspect of things: it is only necessary when\nmisunderstanding has arisen from uniformly inaccurate, or rather\nunguarded, modes of expression.\n\nIn an excellent lecture by Dr. Mott on \"The Effects of High\nExplosives upon the Central Nervous System,\" I find this sentence:--\n\n\"It is known that a continuous supply of oxygen is essential for\nconsciousness.\"\n\nWhat is intended is clear enough, but analysed strictly this\nassertion goes far beyond what is known. We do not really know that\noxygen, or any form of matter, has anything to do with consciousness:\nall that we know, and all that Dr. Mott really means to say, I\npresume, is that without a supply of oxygen consciousness gives no\nphysical sign.\n\nPartial interruptions of physical manifestations of consciousness\nwell illustrate this: as, for instance, when speech-centres of\nthe brain alone are affected. If in such case we had to depend on\nmouth-muscle alone we should say that consciousness had departed, and\nmight even think that it was non-existent; but the arm-muscle may\nremain under brain control, and by intelligent writing can show that\nconsciousness is there all the time, and that it is only inhibited\nfrom one of the specially easy modes of manifestation. In some cases\nthe inhibition may be complete,--from such cases we do not learn\nmuch; but when it is only partial we learn a good deal.\n\nI quote again from Dr. Mott, omitting for brevity the detailed\ndescription of certain surgical war-cases, under his care, which\nprecedes the following explanatory interjection and summary:--\n\n \"Why should these men, whose silent thoughts are perfect,\n be unable to speak? They comprehend all that is said\n to them unless they are deaf; but it is quite clear\n that [even] in these cases their internal language\n is unaffected, for they are able to express their\n thoughts and judgments perfectly well by writing, even\n if they are deaf. The mutism is therefore not due to\n an intellectual defect, nor is it due to volitional\n inhibition of language in silent thought. Hearing, the\n primary incitation to vocalisation and speech, is usually\n unaffected, yet they are unable to speak; they cannot\n even whisper, cough, whistle, or laugh aloud. Many who\n are unable to speak voluntarily yet call out in their\n dreams expressions they have used in trench warfare and\n battle. Sometimes this is followed by return of speech,\n but more often not. One man continually shouted out in\n his sleep, but he did not recover voluntary speech or\n power of phonation till eight months after admission to\n the hospital for shell-shock.\"\n\nVery well, all this interesting experience serves among other things\nto illustrate our simple but occasionally overlooked thesis. For it\nis through physical phenomena that normally we apprehend, here and\nnow; and it is by aid of physical phenomena that we convey to others\nour wishes, our impressions, our ideas, and our memories. Dislocate\nthe physical from the psychical, and communication ceases. Restore\nthe connexion, in however imperfect a form, and once more incipient\ncommunication may become possible again.\n\nThat is the rationale of the process of human intercourse. Do we\nunderstand it? No. Do we understand even how our own mind operates on\nour own body? No. We know for a fact that it does.\n\nDo we understand how a mind can with difficulty and imperfectly\noperate another body submitted to its temporary guidance and control?\nNo. Do we know for a fact that it does? Aye, that is the question--a\nquestion of evidence. I myself answer the question affirmatively;\nnot on theoretical grounds--far from that--but on a basis of\nstraightforward experience. Others, if they allow themselves to take\nthe trouble to get the experience, will come to the same conclusion.\n\nWill they do so best by allowing their own bodies or brains to be\nutilised? No, that seems not even the best, and certainly not the\nonly way. It may not, for the majority of people, be a possible\nway. The sensitive or medium who serves us, by putting his or her\nbodily mechanism at our disposal, is not likely to be best informed\nconcerning the nature of the process. Mediums have perhaps but\nlittle conscious information to give us concerning their powers; we\nmust learn from what they do, not from what they say. The outside\nobserver, the experimenter, whose senses are alert all the time and\nwho continues fully conscious without special receptivity or any\npeculiar power of his own, is in a better position to note and judge\nwhat is happening,--at least from the normal and scientific point of\nview. Let us be as cautious and critical, aye and as sceptical as we\nlike, but let us also be patient and persevering and fair; do not let\nus start with a preconceived notion of what is possible and what is\nimpossible in this almost unexplored universe; let us only be willing\nto learn and be guided by facts, not by dogmas; and gradually the\ntruth will permeate our understanding and make for itself a place in\nour minds as secure as in any other branch of observational science.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nLIFE AND CONSCIOUSNESS\n\n\nThe limitation of scope which eminent Professors of a certain school\nof modern science have laid down for themselves is forcibly expressed\nby one of the ablest of their champions thus:--\n\n \"No sane man has ever pretended, since science became a\n definite body of doctrine, that we know or ever can hope\n to know or conceive the possibility of knowing whence\n the mechanism has come, why it is there, whither it is\n going, or what may be beyond and beside it which our\n senses are incapable of appreciating. These things are\n not 'explained' by science and never can be.\"--SIR E. RAY\n LANKESTER.\n\nI should myself hesitate to promulgate such a markedly _non-possumus_\nand _ignorabimus_ statement concerning the scope of physical science,\neven as narrowly and popularly understood; but it illuminates the\nposition taken up by those _savants_ who are commonly known as\nMaterialists, and explains their expressed though non-personal\nhostility to other scientific men who seek to exceed the boundaries\nlaid down, and investigate things beyond the immediate range of the\nsenses.\n\nEliminating the future tense from the statement, however, I can\nagree with it. The instrument of translation from the mental to the\nphysical, and back from the physical to the mental, is undoubtedly\nthe brain, but as to how the translation is accomplished, I venture\nto say, we have not the inkling of an idea. Nevertheless, hints which\nmay gradually lead towards a partial understanding of psycho-physical\nprocesses may be gained by study of exceptional cases: for such study\nis often more instructive than continued scrutiny of the merely\nnormal.\n\nThe fact of human consciousness, though it raises the problem to a\nhigh degree of conspicuousness, by no means exhausts the difficulty;\nfor it is one which faces us in connexion with every form of life.\nThe association of life with matter, and of mind with life, are\nproblems of similar order, and a glimmering of understanding of\nthe one may be expected to throw light upon the other. But until\nwe know more of the method by which the simplest and most familiar\npsycho-physical interaction occurs--until we know enough to see\nhow the gulf between two apparently different Modes of Being is\nbridged--it is safest to observe and accumulate facts, and to be very\nchary of making more than the most tentative and cautious of working\nhypotheses. For to frame even a tentative hypothesis, of any helpful\nkind, may require some clue which as yet we do not possess.\n\nI have been struck by the position taken by Dr. Chalmers Mitchell in\nhis notable small book _Evolution and the War_, the early chapters of\nwhich, on Germany of the past and present, I would like unreservedly\nto commend to the reader. Indeed, commendation of a friendly and\nnon-patronising kind may well extend to the whole book, although it\nmust be admitted that here and there mere exposition of Darwinism is\nsuspended, and difficult and debatable questions are touched upon.\n\nOn these questions I would not like to be understood as expressing\na hasty opinion, either against or for the views of the author.\nThe points at issue between us are more or less fine-drawn, and\ncannot be dealt with parenthetically; nor do I ever propose to deal\nwith them in a controversial manner. The author, as a biologist of\nfame, is more than entitled to such expression of his own views\nas he has cared to give. I quote with admiration, not necessarily\nwith agreement, a few passages from the part dealing with the\nrelation between mind and matter, and especially with the wide and\nrevolutionary difference between man and animal caused by either the\nevolution or the incoming of free and conscious Choice.\n\nHe will not allow, with Bergson and others, that the roots of\nconsciousness, in its lower grades, go deep down into the animal,\nand even perhaps into the vegetable, kingdom; he has no patience\nwith those who associate elementary consciousness and freedom and\nindeterminateness not merely with human life but with all life, and\nwho detect rudiments of purpose and intelligence in the protozoa.\nNor, on the other hand, does he approve the dogmatic teaching of the\n'ultra-scientific' school, which, being obsessed by the idea of man's\nanimal origin, interprets human nature solely in terms of protoplasm.\nHe opposes the possibility of this by saying:--\n\n\"However fruitful and interesting it may be to remember that we are\nrooted deep in the natal mud, our possession of consciousness and the\nsense of freedom is a vital and overmastering distinction.\"\n\nOn the more interesting of the above-mentioned alternatives Dr.\nChalmers Mitchell expresses himself thus:--\n\n \"The Bergsonian interpretation does nothing to make\n consciousness and freedom more intelligible; and by\n extending them from man, in whom we know them to exist,\n to animals, in which their presence is at best an\n inference, it not only robs them of definiteness and\n reality, but it blurs the real distinction between men\n and animals, and evades the most difficult problem\n of science and philosophy. The facts are more truly\n represented by such phraseology as that animals\n are instinctive, man is intelligent, animals are\n irresponsible, man is responsible, animals are automata,\n man is free; or if you like, that God gave animals a\n beautiful body, man a rational soul....\"\n\nAnd soon afterwards he continues:--\n\n\"Not 'envisaging itself,' not being at once actor, spectator, and\ncritic, 'living in the flashing moment,' not seeing the past and the\npresent and the future separately, this is the highest at which we\ncan put the consciousness of animals, and herein lies the distinction\nbetween man and the animals which makes the overwhelming difference.\n\n \"Must we then suppose, with Russel Wallace, that\n somewhere on the upward path from the tropical forests\n to the groves of Paradise, a soul was interpolated from\n an outside source into the gorilla-like ancestry of man?\n I do not think so, although I not only admit but assert\n that such a view gives a more accurate statement of fact\n than does either of the fashionable doctrines that I\n have discussed. I believe with Darwin, that as the body\n of man has been evolved from the body of animals, so the\n intellectual, emotional, and moral faculties of man have\n been evolved from the qualities of animals. I help myself\n towards the comprehension of the process by reflecting on\n two phenomena of observation [which he proceeds to cite].\n I help myself, and perchance may help others; no more;\n could I speak dogmatically on what is the central mystery\n of all science and all philosophy and all thought, my\n words would roll with the thunder of Sinai.\"\n\nLet it not be supposed for a moment that this distinguished biologist\nis in agreement with me on many matters dealt with in the present book.\nIf he were, he would, I believe, achieve a more admirable and eloquent\nwork than is consistent with the technically 'apologetic' tone which,\nin the present state of the scientific atmosphere, it behoves me to\ntake. To guard against unwelcome misrepresentation of his views, and\nyet at the same time to indicate their force, I will make one more\nquotation:--\n\n \"Writing as a hard-shell Darwinian evolutionist, a\n lover of the scalpel and microscope, and of patient,\n empirical observation, as one who dislikes all forms\n of supernaturalism, and who does not shrink from the\n implications even of the phrase that thought is a\n secretion of the brain as bile is a secretion of the\n liver, I assert as a biological fact that the moral\n law is as real and as external to man as the starry\n vault. It has no secure seat in any single man or in any\n single nation. It is the work of the blood and tears\n of long generations of men. It is not, in man, inborn\n or innate, but is enshrined in his traditions, in his\n customs, in his literature and his religion. Its creation\n and sustenance are the crowning glory of man, and his\n consciousness of it puts him in a high place above the\n animal world. Men live and die; nations rise and fall,\n but the struggle of individual lives and of individual\n nations must be measured not by their immediate needs,\n but as they tend to the debasement or perfection of man's\n great achievement.\"\n\nMy own view, which in such matters I only put forth with diffidence\nand brevity, is more in favour of Continuity. I do not trace so\ncatastrophic a break between man and animals, nor between animal and\nvegetable, perhaps not even between organised and unorganised forms of\nmatter, as does Dr. Chalmers Mitchell.\n\nI would venture to extend the range of the term 'soul' down to a very\nlarge denominator,--to cases in which the magnitude of the fraction\nbecomes excessively minute,--and tentatively admit to the possibility\nof survival, though not individual survival, every form of life. As to\nIndividuality and Personality--they can only survive where they already\nexist; when they really exist they persist; but bare survival, as an\nalternative to improbable extinction, may be widespread.\n\nMatter forms an instrument, a means of manifestation, but it need\nnot be the only one possible. We have utilised matter to build up\nthis beautiful bodily mechanism, but, when that is done with, _the\nconstructive ability remains_; and it can be expected to exercise\nits organising powers in other than material environment. If this\nhypothesis be true at all (and admittedly I am now making hypothesis)\n_it must be true of all forms of life_; for what the process of\nevolution has accomplished here may be accomplished elsewhere, under\nconditions at present unknown.[37] So I venture to surmise that the\nsurroundings of non-material existence will be far more homely and\nhabitual than people in general have been accustomed to think likely.\n\nAnd how do I know that the visible material body of anything is all\nthe body, or all the existence, it possesses? Why should not things\nexist also, or have etherial counterparts, in an etherial world?\nPerhaps everything has already an etherial counterpart, of which our\nsenses tell us the material aspect only. I do not know. Such an idea\nmay be quoted as an absurdity; but if the evidence drives me in that\ndirection, in that direction I will go, without undue resistance.\nThere have been those who do not wait to be driven, but who lead; and\nthe inspired guidance of Plotinus in that direction may secure more\nattention, and attract more disciples, when the way is illuminated by\ndiscoverable facts.\n\nMeanwhile facts await discovery.\n\n * * * * *\n\nPassages from Plotinus, it may be remembered, are eloquently\ntranslated by F. W. H. Myers, from the obscure and often\nungrammatical Greek, in _Human Personality_, vol. ii. pp. 289-291;\nand readers of S.P.R. _Proceedings_, vol. xxii, pp. 108-172, will\nremember the development by Mrs. Verall of the [Greek: kai autos\nouranos akum\u00f4n] motto prefixed to F. W. H. Myers's post-humously\npublished poem on Tennyson in _Fragments of Prose and Poetry_.\n\nMy reference just above to teachings of Plotinus about the kind of\nthings to be met with in the other world, or the etherial world, or\nwhatever it may be called, is due to information from Professor J.\nH. Muirhead that, roughly speaking, Plotinus teaches that things\nthere are on the same plan as things here: each thing here having\nits counterpart or corresponding existence there, though glorified\nand fuller of reality. Not to misrepresent this doctrine, but to\nillustrate it as far as can be by a short passage, Professor Muirhead\nhas given me the following translation from the _Enneads_:--\n\n \"But again let us speak thus: For since we hold that\n _this_ universe is framed after the pattern of _That_,\n every living thing must needs first be There; and since\n Its Being is perfect, all must be There. Heaven then must\n There be a living thing nor void of what are here called\n stars; indeed such things belong to heaven. Clearly too\n the earth which is There is not an empty void, but much\n more full of life, wherein are all creatures that are\n here called land animals and plants that are rooted in\n life. And sea is There, and all water in ebb and flow and\n in abiding life, and all creatures that are in the water.\n And air is a part of the all that is There, and creatures\n of the air in accordance with the nature and laws of air.\n For in the Living how should living things fail? How then\n can any living thing fail to be There, seeing that as\n each of the great parts of nature is, so needs must be\n the living things that therein are? As then Heaven is,\n and There exists, so are and exist all the creatures that\n inhabit it; nor can these fail to be, else would those\n (on earth?) not be.\"\n\n _Enn._ VI. vii.\n\nThe reason why this strange utterance or speculation is reproduced\nhere is because it seems to some extent to correspond with curious\nstatements recorded in another part of this book; _e.g._ in Chapter\nXIV, Part II.\n\nI expect that it would be misleading to suppose that the terms used by\nPlotinus really signify any difference of locality. It may be nearer\nthe truth to suppose that when freed from our restricting and only\nmatter-revealing senses we become aware of much that was and is 'here'\nall the time, interfused with the existence which we knew;--forming\npart indeed of the one and only complete existence, of which our\npresent normal knowledge is limited to a single aspect. We might think\nand speak of many interpenetrating universes, and yet recognise that\nultimately they must be all one. It is not likely that the Present\ndiffers from what we now call the Future except in our mode of\nperceiving it.\n\n [Footnote 37: I wish to emphasise this paragraph, as\n perhaps an important one.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nON MEANS OF COMMUNICATION\n\n \"In scientific truth there is no finality, and there\n should therefore be no dogmatism. When this is forgotten,\n then science will become stagnant, and its high-priests\n will endeavour to strangle new learning at its birth.\"--R.\n A. GREGORY, _Discovery_.\n\n\nHow does mind communicate with mind? Our accustomed process is\nsingularly indirect.\n\nSpeech is the initiation of muscular movements, under brain and\nnerve guidance, which result in the production of atmospheric\npulsations--alternate condensations and rarefactions--which spread\nout in all directions in a way that can be likened superficially\nto the spreading of ripples on a pond. In themselves the aerial\npulsations have no psychical connotation, and are as purely\nmechanical as are those ripples, though like the indentations on the\nwax of a phonograph their sequence is cunningly contrived; and it is\nin their sequence that the code lies--a code which anyone who has\nstruggled with a foreign language knows is difficult to learn. Sound\nwaves have in some respects a still closer analogy with the etherial\npulsations generated at a wireless-telegraph sending station, which\naffect all sensitive receiving instruments within range and convey a\ncode by their artificially induced sequence.\n\nHearing is reception of a small modicum of the above aerial\npulsations, by suitable mechanism which enables them to stimulate\ningeniously contrived nerve-endings, and so at length to affect\nauditory centres in the brain, and to get translated into the\nsame kind of consciousness as was responsible for the original\nutterance. The whole is done so quickly and easily, by the perfect\nphysiological mechanism provided, that the indirect and surprising\nnature of the process is usually overlooked; as most things are when\nthey have become familiar. Wireless telegraphy is not an iota more\nmarvellous, but, being unfamiliar, it has aroused a sense of wonder.\n\nWriting and Reading by aid of black marks on a piece of paper,\nperceived by means of the Ether instead of the air, and through\nthe agency of the eye instead of the ear,--though the symbols are\nultimately to be interpreted as if heard,--hardly need elaboration\nin order to exhibit their curiously artificial and complicated\nindirectness: and in their case an element of delay, even a long\ntime-interval--perhaps centuries--may intervene between production\nand reception.\n\nArtistic representation also, such as painting or music, though of\na less articulate character, less dependent on purely linguistic\nconvention and less limited by nationality, is still truly\nastonishing when intellectually regarded. An arrangement of pigments\ndesigned for the reception and modification and re-emission or\nreflexion of ether-tremors, in the one case; and, in the other,\na continuous series of complicated vibrations excited by grossly\nmechanical means; intervene between the minds of painter and\nspectator, of composer and auditor, or, in more general terms,\nbetween agent and percipient,--again with possible great lapse of\ntime.\n\nThat ideas and feelings, thus indirectly and mechanically transmitted\nor stored, can affect the sensitive soul in unmistakable fashion, is\na fact of experience; but that deposits in matter are competent to\nproduce so purely psychic an effect can surely only be explained in\nterms of the potentialities and previous experience of the mind or\nsoul itself. No emotional influence can be expressed, or rendered\nintelligible, in terms of matter. Matter is an indirect medium\nof communication between mind and mind. That direct telepathic\nintercourse should be able to occur between mind and mind, without\nall this intermediate physical mechanism, is therefore not really\nsurprising. It has to be proved, no doubt, but the fact is\nintrinsically less puzzling than many of those other facts to which\nwe have grown hardened by usage.\n\nWhy should telepathy be unfamiliar to us? Why should it seem only an\nexceptional or occasional method of communication? There is probably,\nas M. Bergson has said, an evolutionary advantage in our present\nalmost exclusive limitation to mechanical and physical methods of\ncommunication; for these are under muscular control and can be shut\noff. We can isolate ourselves from them, if not in a mechanical, then\nin a topographical manner: we can go away, out of range. We could not\nthus protect ourselves against insistent telepathy. Hence probably\nthe practical usefulness of the inhibiting and abstracting power of\nthe brain; a power which in some lunatics is permanently deficient.\n\nPhysical things can reach consciousness--if at all--only through the\nbrain; that remains true as regards physical things, however much we\nmay admit telepathy from other minds; and, conversely, only through\nthe brain can we operate with conscious purpose on the material\nworld. To any more direct mental or spiritual intercourse we are,\nunless specially awakened, temporarily dead or asleep. There is some\ninversion of ordinary ideas here, for a state of trance appears to\nrouse or free the dormant faculties, and to render direct intercourse\nmore possible. At any rate it does this for some people. For we find\nhere and there, a few perfectly sane individuals, from whom, when in\na rather exceptional state, the customary brain-limitation seems to\nbe withdrawn or withdrawable. Their minds cease to be isolated for a\ntime, and are accessible to more direct influences. Not the familiar\npart of their minds, not the part accustomed to operate and to be\noperated on by the habitually used portion of brain, no, but what is\ncalled a subliminal stratum of mind, a part only accessible perhaps\nto physical things through an ordinarily unused and only subconscious\nportion of the brain.\n\nThe occurrence of such people, _i.e._ of people with such exceptional\nand really simple faculties, could not have been predicted or\nexpected on a basis of everyday experience; but if evidence is\nforthcoming for their existence--even although it be not quite\nof an ordinary character--and if we can make examination of the\nsubject-matter and criticise the statements of fact which are thus\nreceivable, there is no sort of sense in opposing the facts by\nadducing preconceived negative opinions about impossibility, and\ndeclining to look into the evidence or judge of the results. There\nwere people once who would not look at the satellites of Jupiter,\nlest their cherished convictions should be disturbed. There was\na mathematician not long ago who would not see an experimental\ndemonstration of conical refraction, lest if it failed his confidence\nin refined optical theory should be upset. And so, strange to\nsay, there are people to-day who deny the fact, and condemn the\ninvestigation, of any manner of communication outside the realm of\nordinary commonplace experience: having no ground at all for their\ndenial save prejudice.\n\nWell, like other little systems, they have their day and cease to be.\nWe need not attend to them overmuch. If the facts of the Universe\nhave come within our contemplation, a certain amount of contemporary\nblindness, though it may surprise, need not perplex us. The study\nof the material side of things, under the limitations appropriate\nthereto, has done splendid service. Only gradually can mental scope\nbe enlarged to take in not only all this but more also.\n\nIn so far as those who are open to the less well-defined and more\nambitious region are ignorant or unresponsive to what has been\nachieved in the material realm, it is no wonder that their asserted\nenlargement of scope is not credited. It does not seem likely that\na new revelation has been vouchsafed to them, when they are so\nignorant concerning the other and already recognised kind of Natural\nknowledge. They cannot indeed have attained information through the\nsame channels, or in the same way. And it is this dislocation of\nknowledge, this difference of atmosphere, this barely reconcilable\nattitude of two diverse groups of people--though occasionally, by the\ndevice of water-tight compartments, the same individual has breathed\nboth kinds of air and belonged to both groups--it is this bifurcation\nof method that has retarded mutual understanding. There are\npugnacious members of either group who try to strengthen their own\nposition by decrying the methods of the other; and were it not for\nthe occurrence from time to time of a Wallace or a Crookes, _i.e._\nof men who combine in their own persons something of both kinds of\nknowledge, attained not by different but by similar methods--all\ntheir theses being maintained and justified on scientific grounds,\nand after experimental inquiry--the chances for a reasonable and\nscientific outlook into a new region, and ultimately over the\nborder-line into the domain of religion, would not be encouraging.\nThe existence of such men, however, has given the world pause, has\nsometimes checked its facile abuse, and has brought it occasionally\ninto a reflective, perhaps now even into a partially receptive, mood.\nWe need not be in any hurry, though we can hardly help hoping for\nquick progress if the new knowledge can in any way alleviate the\nterrible amount of sorrow in the world at present; moreover, if a new\nvolume is to be opened in man's study of the Universe, it is time\nthat the early chapters were being perused.\n\nIt may be asked, do I recommend all bereaved persons to devote the\ntime and attention which I have done to getting communications and\nrecording them? Most certainly I do not. I am a student of the\nsubject, and a student often undertakes detailed labour of a special\nkind. I recommend people in general to learn and realise that their\nloved ones are still active and useful and interested and happy--more\nalive than ever in one sense--and to make up their minds to live a\nuseful life till they rejoin them.\n\nWhat steps should be taken to gain this peaceful assurance must\ndepend on the individual. Some may get it from the consolations of\nreligion, some from the testimony of trusted people, while some\nmay find it necessary to have first-hand experience of their own\nfor a time. And if this experience can be attained privately, with\nno outside assistance, by quiet and meditation or by favour of\noccasional waking dreams, so much the better.\n\nWhat people should not do, is to close their minds to the possibility\nof continued existence except in some lofty and inaccessible and\nessentially unsuitable condition; they should not selfishly seek to\nlessen pain by discouraging all mention, and even hiding everything\nlikely to remind them, of those they have lost; nor should they give\nthemselves over to unavailing and prostrating grief. Now is the time\nfor action; and it is an ill return to those who have sacrificed\nall and died for the Country if those left behind do not throw off\nenervating distress and helpless lamentation, and seek to live for\nthe Country and for humanity, to the utmost of their power.\n\nAny steps which are calculated to lead to this wholesome result in\nany given instance are justified; and it is not for me to offer\nadvice as to the kind of activity most appropriate to each individual\ncase.\n\n * * * * *\n\nI have suggested that the new knowledge, when generally established\nand incorporated with existing systems, will have a bearing and\ninfluence on the region hitherto explored by other faculties, and\nconsidered to be the domain of faith. It certainly must be so,\nwhether the suggested expansion of scientific scope is welcomed or\nnot. Certainly the conclusions to which I myself have been led by\none mode of access are not contradictory of the conclusions which\nhave been arrived at by those who (naturally) seem to me the more\nenlightened theologians; though I must confess that with some of\nthe ecclesiastical superstructure which has descended to us from a\nbygone day, a psychic investigator can have but little sympathy.\nIndeed he only refrains from attacking it because he feels that, left\nto itself, it will be superseded by higher and better knowledge,\nand will die a natural death. There is too much wheat mingled with\nthe tares to render it safe for any but an ecclesiastical expert to\nattempt to uproot them.\n\nMeanwhile, although some of the official exponents of Christian\ndoctrine condemn any attempt to explore things of this kind by\nsecular methods; while others refrain from countenancing any results\nthus obtained; there are many who would utilise them in their\nteaching if they conscientiously could, and a few who have already\nbegun to do so, on the strength of their own knowledge, however\nderived, and in spite of the risk of offending weaker brethren.[38]\n\n [Footnote 38: For instance, a book called _The Gospel of\n the Hereafter_, by Dr. J. Paterson Smyth, of Montreal, may\n be brought to the notice of anyone who, while clinging\n tightly to the essential tenets of orthodox Christianity,\n and unwilling or unable to enter upon a course of study,\n would gladly interpret eastern and medi\u00e6val phrases in a\n sense not repugnant to the modern spirit.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nON THE FACT OF SUPERNORMAL COMMUNICATION\n\n \"But he, the spirit himself, may come\n Where all the nerve of sense is numb.\"\n\n TENNYSON, _In Memoriam_\n\n\nHowever it be accomplished, and whatever reception the present-day\nscientific world may give to the assertion, there are many now who\nknow, by first-hand experience, that communication is possible across\nthe boundary--if there is a boundary--between the world apprehended\nby our few animal-derived senses and the larger existence concerning\nwhich our knowledge is still more limited.\n\nCommunication is not easy, but it occurs; and humanity has reason\nto be grateful to those few individuals who, finding themselves\npossessed of the faculty of mediumship, and therefore able to act as\nintermediaries, allow themselves to be used for this purpose.\n\nSuch means of enlarging our knowledge, and entering into relations\nwith things beyond animal ken, can be abused like any other power: it\ncan be played with by the merely curious, or it can be exploited in\na very mundane and unworthy way in the hope of warping it into the\nservice of selfish ends, in the same way as old and long accessible\nkinds of knowledge have too often been employed. But it can also be\nused reverently and seriously, for the very legitimate purpose of\ncomforting the sorrowful, helping the bereaved, and restoring some\nportion of the broken link between souls united in affection but\nseparated for a time by an apparently impassable barrier. The barrier\nis turning out to be not hopelessly obdurate after all; intercourse\nbetween the two states is not so impossible as had been thought;\nsomething can be learnt about occurrences from either side; and\ngradually it is probable that a large amount of consistent and fairly\ncoherent knowledge will be accumulated.\n\nMeanwhile broken ties of affection have the first claim; and early\nefforts at communication from the departed are nearly always directed\ntowards assuring survivors of the fact of continued personal\nexistence, towards helping them to realise that changed surroundings\nhave in no way weakened love or destroyed memory, and urging upon\ntheir friends with eager insistence that earthly happiness need\nnot be irretrievably spoiled by bereavement. For purposes of this\nkind many trivial incidents are recalled, such as are well adapted\nto convince intimate friends and relatives that one particular\nintelligence, and no other, must be the source from which the\nmessages ultimately spring, through whatever intermediaries they have\nto be conveyed. And to people new to the subject such messages are\noften immediately convincing.\n\nFurther thought, however, raises difficulties and doubts. The\ngradually recognized possibility of what may be called normal\ntelepathy, or unconscious mind-reading from survivors, raises\nhesitation--felt most by studious and thoughtful people--about\naccepting such messages as irrefragable evidence of persistent\npersonal existence; and to overcome this curious and unexpected and\nperhaps rather artificial difficulty, it is demanded that facts\nshall be given which are unknown to anyone present, and can only\nsubsequently be verified. Communications of this occasional and\nexceptional kind are what are called, by psychic investigators, more\nspecifically 'evidential': and time and perhaps good fortune may be\nrequired for their adequate reception and critical appreciation.\nFor it is manifest that most things readily talked about between\ntwo friends, and easily reproducible in hasty conversation, will\nnaturally be of a nature common to both, and on subjects well within\neach other's knowledge.\n\nThe more recent development of an elaborate scheme of\n'cross-correspondence,' entered upon since the death of specially\nexperienced and critical investigators of the S.P.R., who were\nfamiliar with all these difficulties, and who have taken strong\nand most ingenious means to overcome them, has made the proof,\nalready very strong, now almost crucial. The only alternative, in\nthe best cases, is to imagine a sort of supernormal mischievousness,\nso elaborately misleading that it would have to be stigmatised as\nvicious or even diabolical.\n\nIn most cases complete proof of this complicated and cold-blooded\nkind is neither forthcoming nor is necessary: indeed it can hardly\nbe appreciated or understood by non-studious people. Effective\nevidence is in most cases of a different kind, and varies with the\npersonality concerned. It often happens that little personal touches,\nincommunicable to others in their full persuasiveness, sooner or\nlater break down the last vestiges of legitimate scepticism. What\ngoes on beyond that will depend upon personal training and interest.\nWith many, anything like scientific inquiry lapses at this point,\nand communication resolves itself into emotional and domestic\ninterchange of ordinary ideas. But in a few cases the desire to\ngive new information is awakened; and when there is sufficient\nreceptivity, and, what is very important, a competent and suitable\nMedium for anything beyond commonplace messages, instructive and\ngeneral information may be forthcoming. An explanation or description\nof the methods of communication, for instance, as seen from their\nside; or some information concerning the manner of life there;\nand occasionally even some intelligent attempt to lessen human\ndifficulties about religious conceptions, and to give larger ideas\nabout the Universe as a whole,--all these attempts have been made.\nBut they always insist that their information is but little greater\nthan ours, and that they are still fallible gropers after truth,--of\nwhich they keenly feel the beauty and importance, but of which they\nrealise the infinitude, and their own inadequacy of mental grasp,\nquite as clearly as we do here.\n\nThese are what we call the 'unverifiable' communications; for we\ncannot bring them to book by subsequent terrestrial inquiry in the\nsame way as we can test information concerning personal or mundane\naffairs. Information of the higher kind has often been received, but\nhas seldom been published; and it is difficult to know what value to\nput upon it, or how far it is really trustworthy.\n\nI am inclined to think, however--with a growing number of serious\nstudents of the subject--that the time is getting ripe now for\nthe production and discussion of material of this technically\nunverifiable kind; to be scrutinised and tested by internal\nconsistency and inherent probability, in the same sort of way as\ntravellers' tales have to be scrutinised and tested. But until\nhumanity as a whole has taken the initial step, and shown itself\nwilling to regard such communications as within the range of\npossibility, it may be unwise to venture far in this more ambitious\ndirection.\n\nIt has nevertheless been suggested, from a philosophic point of view,\nthat strict proof of individual survival must in the last resort\ndepend on examination and collation of these 'travellers' tales,'\nrather than on any kind of resuscitation of the past; because, until\nwe know more about memory, it is possible to conjecture, as I think\nProfessor Bergson does, that all the past is potentially accessible\nto a super-subliminal faculty for disinterring it. And so one might,\nin a sceptical mood, when confronted with records of apparently\npersonal reminiscence, attribute them to an unconscious exercise of\nthis faculty, and say with Tennyson\n\n \"I hear a wind\n Of memory murmuring the past.\"\n\nI do not myself regard this impersonal memory as a reasonable\nhypothesis, I think that the simpler view is likely to be the\ntruer one, so I attach importance to trivial reminiscences and\ncharacteristic personal touches; but I do agree that abstention from\nrecording and publishing, however apologetically, those other efforts\nhas had the effect of making ill-informed people--_i.e._ people with\nvery little personal experience--jump to the conclusion that all\ncommunications are of a trivial and contemptible nature.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\n ON THE CONTENTION THAT ALL PSYCHIC COMMUNICATIONS ARE OF A TRIVIAL\n NATURE AND DEAL WITH INSIGNIFICANT TOPICS\n\n\nThat such a contention as that mentioned at the end of the preceding\nchapter is false is well known to people of experience; but so long\nas the demand for verification and proof of identity persists--and\nit will be long indeed before they can be dispensed with--so long\nare trifling reminiscences the best way to achieve the desired end.\nThe end in this case amply explains and justifies the means. Hence\nit is that novices and critics are naturally and properly regaled\nwith references to readily remembered and verifiable facts; and since\nthese facts, to be useful, must not be of the nature of public news,\nnor anything which can be gleaned from biographical or historical\nrecords, they usually relate to trifling family affairs or other\nhumorous details such as seem likely to stay in the memory. It can\nfreely be admitted that such facts are only redeemed from triviality\nby the affectionate recollections interlinked with them, and by the\nmotive which has caused them to be reproduced. For their special\npurpose they may be admirable; and there is no sort of triviality\nabout the thing to be proven by them. The idea that a departed friend\nought to be occupied wholly and entirely with grave matters, and\nought not to remember jokes and fun, is a gratuitous claim which has\nto be abandoned. Humour does not cease with earth-life. Why should it?\n\nIt should be evident that communications concerning deeper matters\nare not similarly serviceable as proof of identity, though they\nmay have a value and interest of their own; but it is an interest\nwhich could not be legitimately aroused until the first step--the\nrecognition of veridical intercourse--had been taken; for, as a rule,\nthey are essentially unverifiable. Of such communications a multitude\ncould be quoted; and almost at random I select a few specimens from\nthe automatic writings of the gentleman and schoolmaster known to a\nformer generation as _M.A.Oxon._[39] Take this one, which happens to\nbe printed in a current issue of _Light_ (22 April 1916), with the\nstatement that it occurs in one of M.A.Oxon.'s subliminally written\nand private notebooks, under date 12 July 1873--many others will\nbe found in the selections which he himself extracted from his own\nscript and published in a book called _Spirit Teachings_:--\n\n \"You do not sufficiently grasp the scanty hold that\n religion has upon the mass of mankind, nor the\n adaptability of what we preach to the wants and cravings\n of men. Or perhaps it is necessary that you be reminded\n of what you cannot see clearly in your present state\n and among your present associations. You cannot see,\n as we see, the carelessness that has crept over men\n as to the future. Those who have thought over their\n future have come to know that they can find out nothing\n about it, except, indeed, that what man pretends to\n tell is foolish, contradictory, and unsatisfying. His\n reasoning faculties convince him that the Revelation of\n God contains very plain marks of human origin; that it\n will not stand the test of sifting such as is applied to\n works professedly human; and that the priestly fiction\n that reason is no measure of revelation, and that it\n must be left on the threshold of inquiry and give place\n to faith, is a cunningly planned means of preventing man\n from discovering the errors and contradictions which\n throng the pages of the Bible. Those who reason discover\n this soon; those who do not, betake themselves to the\n refuge of Faith, and become blind devotees, fanatical,\n irrational, and bigoted; conformed to a groove in which\n they have been educated and from which they have not\n broken loose simply because they have not dared to think.\n It would be hard for man to devise a means [more capable]\n of cramping the mind and dwarfing the spirit's growth\n than this persuading of a man that he must not think\n about religion. It is one which paralyses all freedom of\n thought and renders it almost impossible for the soul to\n rise. The spirit is condemned to a hereditary religion\n whether suited or not to its wants. That which may have\n suited a far-off ancestor may be quite unsuited to a\n struggling soul that lives in other times from those\n in which such ideas had vitality. The spirit's life is\n so made a question of birth and of locality. It is a\n question over which he can exercise no control, whether\n he is Christian, Mohammedan, or, as ye say, heathen:\n whether his God be the Great Spirit of the Red Indian, or\n the fetish of the savage; whether his prophet be Christ\n or Mahomet or Confucius; in short, whether his notion\n of religion be that of East, West, North, or South; for\n in all these quarters men have evolved for themselves a\n theology which they teach their children to believe.\n\n \"The days are coming when this geographical sectarianism\n will give place before the enlightenment caused by the\n spread of our revelation, for which men are far riper\n than you think. The time draws nigh apace when the\n sublime truths of Spiritualism, rational and noble as\n they are when viewed by man's standard, shall wipe away\n from the face of God's earth the sectarian jealousy and\n theological bitterness, the anger and ill-will, the folly\n and stupidity, which have disgraced the name of religion\n and the worship of God; and man shall see in a clearer\n light the Supreme Creator and the spirit's eternal\n destiny.\n\n \"We tell you, friend, that the end draws nigh; the\n night of ignorance is passing fast; the shackles which\n priestcraft has strung round the struggling souls shall\n be knocked off, and in place of fanatical folly and\n ignorant speculation and superstitious belief, ye shall\n have a reasonable religion and a knowledge of the reality\n of the spirit-world and of the ministry of angels with\n you. Ye shall know that the dead are alive indeed, living\n as they lived on earth, but more truly, ministering to\n you with undiminished love, animated in their perpetual\n intercourse with the same affection which they had whilst\n yet incarned.\"\n\nAny one of these serious messages can be criticised and commented\nupon with hostility and suspicion; they are not suited to establish\nthe first premise of the argument for continuance of personality;\nand if they were put forward as part of the proof of survival,\nthen perhaps the hostility would be legitimate. It ought to be\nclear that they are not to be taken as oracular utterances, or as\nanything vastly superior to the capabilities of the medium through\nwhom they come,--though in fact they often are superior to any known\npower of a given medium, and are frequently characteristic of the\ndeparted personality, as we knew him, who is purporting to be the\nCommunicator: though this remark is not applicable to the particular\nclass of impersonal messages here selected for quotation. Yet in all\ncases they must surely be more or less sophisticated by the channel,\nand by the more or less strained method of communication, and must\nshare some of its limitations and imperfections.\n\nHowever that may be, it is proper to quote them occasionally,\nas here; not as specially profound utterances, but merely in\ncontradiction of the imaginary and false thesis that only trivial\nand insignificant subjects are dealt with in automatic writings and\nmediumistic utterances. For such utterances--whatever their value or\nlack of value--are manifestly conclusive against that gratuitous and\nignorant supposition. Whatever is thought of them, they are at least\nconceived in a spirit of earnestness, and are characterised by a\ngenuine fervour that may be properly called religious.\n\nI now quote a few more of the records published in the book cited\nabove,--in this case dealing with Theological questions and puzzles\nin the mind of the automatic writer himself:--\n\n \"All your fancied theories about God have filtered down\n to you through human channels; the embodiments of human\n cravings after knowledge of Him; the creation of minds\n that were undeveloped, whose wants were not your wants,\n whose God, or rather whose notions about God are not\n yours. You try hard to make the ideas fit in, but they\n will not fit, because they are the product of divers\n degrees of development....\"\n\n \"God! Ye know Him not! One day, when the Spirit stands\n within the veil which shrouds the spirit world from\n mortal gaze, you shall wonder at your ignorance of Him\n whom you have so foolishly imagined! He is far other\n than you have pictured Him. Were He such as you have\n pictured Him, were He such as you think, He would avenge\n on presumptuous man the insults which he puts on his\n Creator. But He is other, far other than man's poor\n grovelling mind can grasp, and He pities and forgives\n the ignorance of the blind mortal who paints Him after\n a self-imagined pattern.... When you rashly complain\n of us that our teaching to you controverts that of the\n Old Testament, we can but answer that it does indeed\n controvert that old and repulsive view ... but that it is\n in fullest accord with that divinely inspired revelation\n of Himself which He gave through Jesus Christ--a\n revelation which man has done so much to debase, and\n from which the best of the followers of Christ have so\n grievously fallen away.\"\n\nAnd again, in answer to other doubts and questions in the mind of the\nautomatist as to the legitimacy of the means of communication, and\nhis hesitation about employing a means which he knew was sometimes\nprostituted by knaves to unworthy and frivolous or even base\nobjects,--very different from those served by humorous and friendly\nfamily messages, about which no one with a spark of human feeling\nhas a word to say when once they have realised their nature and\nobject,--the writing continued thus:--\n\n \"If there be nought in what we say of God and of man's\n after-life that commends itself to you, it must be that\n your mind has ceased to love the grander and simpler\n conceptions which it had once learned to drink in....\"\n\n \"Cease to be anxious about the minute questions which\n are of minor moment. Dwell much on the great, the\n overwhelming necessity for a clearer revealing of the\n Supreme; on the blank and cheerless ignorance of God\n and of us which has crept over the world: on the noble\n creed we teach, on the bright future we reveal. Cease\n to be perplexed by thoughts of an imagined Devil. For\n the honest, pure, and truthful soul there is no Devil\n nor Prince of Evil such as theology has feigned....\n The clouds of sorrow and anguish of soul may gather\n round [such a man] and his spirit may be saddened with\n the burden of sin--weighed down with consciousness of\n surrounding misery and guilt, but no fabled Devil can\n gain dominion over him, or prevail to drag down his soul\n to hell. All the sadness of spirit, the acquaintance\n with grief, the intermingling with guilt, is part of\n the experience, in virtue of which his soul shall rise\n hereafter. The guardians are training and fitting it by\n those means to progress, and jealously protect it from\n the dominion of the foe.\n\n \"It is only they who, by a fondness for evil, by a\n lack of spiritual and excess of corporeal development,\n attract to themselves the congenial spirits of the\n undeveloped who have left the body but not forgotten its\n desires. These alone risk incursion of evil. These by\n proclivity attract evil, and it dwells with them at their\n invitation. They attract the lower spirits who hover\n nearest Earth, and who are but too ready to rush in and\n mar our plans, and ruin our work for souls. These are\n they of whom you speak when you say in haste, that the\n result of Spiritualism is not for good. You err, friend.\n Blame not us that the lower spirits manifest for those\n who bid them welcome. Blame man's insensate folly, which\n will choose the low and grovelling rather than the pure\n and elevated. Blame his foolish laws, which daily hurry\n into a life for which they are unprepared, thousands of\n spirits, hampered and dragged down by a life of folly and\n sin, which has been fostered by custom and fashion. Blame\n the ginshops, and the madhouses, and the prisons, and the\n encouraged lusts and fiendish selfishness of man. This it\n is which damns legions of spirits--not, as ye fancy, in\n a sea of material fire, but in the flames of perpetuated\n lust, condemned to burn itself out in hopeless longing\n till the purged soul rises through the fire and surmounts\n its dead passions. Yes, blame these and kindred causes,\n if there be around undeveloped intelligences who shock\n you by their deception, and annoy you by frivolity and\n falsehood.\"\n\nI suppose that the worst that can be said about writing of this\nkind is that it consists of 'sermon-stuffe' such as could have\nbeen presumably invented--whether consciously or unconsciously--by\nthe automatic writer himself. And the fact that with some of it he\ntended to disagree, proves no more than the corresponding kind of\nunexpected argumentation experienced by some dreamers. (Cf. L. P.\nJacks, _Hibbert Journal_, July, 1916.) The same kind of explanation\nmay serve for both phenomena, but I do not know what that explanation\nis.\n\n [Footnote 39: The Rev. Stainton Moses (M. A. Oxon) was one\n of the masters at University College School in London. He\n wrote automatically, _i.e._ subconsciously, in private\n notebooks at a regular short time each day for nearly\n twenty years, and felt that he was in touch with helpful\n and informing intelligences.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\nON THE MANNER OF COMMUNICATION\n\n\nPerhaps the commonest and easiest method of communication is what\nis called 'automatic writing'--the method by which the above\nexamples were received--i.e. writing performed through the agency\nof subconscious intelligence; the writer leaving his or her hand\nat liberty to write whatever comes, without attempting to control\nit, and without necessarily attending at the time to what is being\nwritten.\n\nThat a novice will usually get nothing, or mere nonsense or\nscribbling, in this way is obvious: the remarkable thing is that some\npersons are thus able to get sense, and to tap sources of information\noutside their normal range. If a rudiment of such power exists, it\nis possible, though not always desirable, to cultivate it; but care,\npertinacity, and intelligence are needed to utilise a faculty of\nthis kind. Unless people are well-balanced and self-critical and\nwholesomely occupied, they had better leave the subject alone.\n\nIn most cases of fully-developed automatism known to me the\nautomatist reads what comes, and makes suitable oral replies or\ncomments to the sentences as they appear: so that the whole has then\nthe effect of a straightforward conversation of which one side is\nspoken and the other written--the speaking side being usually rather\nsilent and reserved, the writing side free and expansive.\n\nNaturally not every person has the power of cultivating this simple\nform of what is technically known as motor automatism, one of the\nrecognised subliminal forms of activity; but probably more people\ncould do it if they tried; though for some people it would be\ninjudicious, and for many others hardly worth while.\n\nThe intermediate mentality employed in this process seems to be a\nusually submerged or dream-like stratum of the automatist whose hand\nis being used. The hand is probably worked by its usual physiological\nmechanism, guided and controlled by nerve centres not in the most\nconscious and ordinarily employed region of the brain. In some cases\nthe content or subject-matter of the writing may emanate entirely\nfrom these nerve centres, and be of no more value than a dream; as\nis frequently the case with the more elementary automatism set in\naction by the use of instruments known as 'planchette' and 'ouija,'\noften employed by beginners. But when the message turns out to be of\nevidential value it is presumably because this subliminal portion of\nthe person is in touch, either telepathically or in some other way,\nwith intelligences not ordinarily accessible,--with living people at\na distance perhaps, or more often with the apparently more accessible\npeople who have passed on, for whom distance in the ordinary sense\nseems hardly to exist, and whose links of connexion are of a kind\nother than spatial. It need hardly be said that proof of communion\nof this kind is absolutely necessary, and has to be insisted on;\nbut experience has demonstrated that now and again sound proof is\nforthcoming.\n\nAnother method, and one that turns out to be still more powerful, is\nfor the automatist not only to take off his or her attention from\nwhat is being transmitted through his or her organism, but to become\ncomprehensively unconscious and go into a trance. In that case it\nappears that the physiological mechanism is more amenable to control,\nand is less sophisticated by the ordinary intelligence of the person\nto whom it normally belongs; so that messages of importance and\nprivacy may be got through. But the messages have to be received\nand attended to by another person; for in such cases, when genuine,\nthe entranced person on waking up is found to be ignorant of what\nhas been either written or uttered. In this state, speech is as\ncommon as writing, probably more common because less troublesome to\nthe recipient, _i.e._ the friend or relative to whom or for whom\nmessages are being thus sent. The communicating personality during\ntrance may be the same as the one operating the hand without trance,\nand the messages may have the same general character as those got\nby automatic writing, when the consciousness is not suspended but\nonly in temporary and local abeyance; but in the trance state a\ndramatic characterisation is usually imparted to the proceedings, by\nthe appearance of an entity called a 'Control,' who works the body\nof the automatist in the apparent absence of its customary manager.\nThis personality is believed by some to be merely the subliminal self\nof the entranced person, brought to the surface, or liberated and\ndramatised into a sort of dream existence, for the time. By others\nit is supposed to be a healthy and manageable variety of the more or\nless pathological phenomenon known to physicians and psychiatrists as\ncases of dual or multiple personality. By others again it is believed\nto be in reality the separate intelligence which it claims to be.\n\nBut however much can be and has been written on this subject, and\nwhatever different opinions may be held, it is universally admitted\nthat the _dramatic semblance_ of the control is undoubtedly that of\na separate person,--a person asserted to be permanently existing\non the other side, and to be occupied on that side in much the\nsame functions as the medium is on this. The duty of controlling\nand transmitting messages seems to be laid upon such a one--it is\nhis special work. The dramatic character of most of the controls\nis so vivid and self-consistent, that whatever any given sitter\nor experimenter may feel is the probable truth concerning their\nreal nature, the simplest way is to humour them by taking them at\ntheir face value and treating them as separate and responsible and\nreal individuals. It is true that in the case of some mediums,\nespecially when overdone or tired, there are evanescent and absurd\nobtrusions every now and then, which cannot be seriously regarded.\nThose have to be eliminated; and for anyone to treat them as real\npeople would be ludicrous; but undoubtedly the serious controls\nshow a character and personality and memory of their own, and they\nappear to carry on as continuous an existence as anyone else whom\none only meets occasionally for conversation. The conversation can\nbe taken up at the point where it left off, and all that was said\nappears to be remarkably well remembered by the appropriate control;\nwhile usually memory of it is naturally and properly repudiated by\nanother control, even when operating through the same medium; and\nthe entranced medium knows nothing of it afterwards after having\ncompletely woke up.\n\nSo clearly is the personality of the control brought out, in the\nbest cases, so clear also are the statements of the communicators\nthat the control who is kindly transmitting their messages is a real\nperson, that I am disposed to accept their assertions, and to regard\na control, when not a mere mischievous and temporary impersonation,\nas akin on their side to the person whom we call a medium on ours.\n\nThe process of regular communication--apart from the exceptional\nmore direct privilege occasionally vouchsafed to people in\nextreme sorrow--thus seems to involve normally a double medium of\ncommunication, and the activity of several people. First there is the\n'Communicator' or originator of ideas and messages on the other side.\nThen there is the 'control' who accepts and transmits the messages\nby setting into operation a physical organism lent for the occasion.\nThen there is the 'Medium' or person whose normal consciousness is in\nabeyance but whose physiological mechanism is being used. And finally\nthere is the 'Sitter'--a rather absurd name--the recipient of the\nmessages, who reads or hears and answers them, and for whose benefit\nall this trouble is taken. In many cases there is also present a\nNote-taker to record all that is said, whether by sitters or by or\nthrough the medium; and it is clear that the note-taker should pay\nspecial attention to and carefully record any hints or information\neither purposely or accidentally imparted by the sitter.\n\nIn scientific and more elaborately conducted cases there is also some\none present who is known as the Experimenter in charge--a responsible\nand experienced person who looks after the health and safety of the\nmedium, who arranges the circumstances and selects the sitters,\nmaking provision for anonymity and other precautions, and who\nfrequently combines with his other functions the duties of note-taker.\n\nIn oral or voice sittings the function of the note-taker is more\nlaborious and more responsible than in writing sittings; for\nthese latter to a great extent supply their own notes. Only as\nthe trance-writing is blindfold, _i.e._ done with shut eyes and\nhead averted, it is rather illegible without practice; and so the\nexperimenter in charge frequently finds it necessary to assist the\nsitter, to whom it is addressed, by deciphering it and reading it\naloud as it comes--rather a tiring process; at the same time jotting\ndown, usually on the same paper, the remarks which the sitter makes\nin reply, or the questions from time to time asked. Unless this is\ndone the subsequent automatic record lacks a good deal of clearness,\nand sometimes lacks intelligibility.\n\nFor a voice-sitting the note-taker must be a rapid writer, and if\nable to employ shorthand has an advantage. Sometimes a stenographer\nis introduced; but the presence of a stranger, or of any person\nnot intimately concerned, is liable to hamper the distinctness and\nfulness of a message; and may prevent or retard the occurrence of\nsuch emotional episodes as are from time to time almost inevitable in\nthe cases--alas too numerous at present--where the sitter has been\nrecently and violently bereaved.\n\nIt is perhaps noteworthy--though it may not be interesting or\nintelligible to a novice--that communicators wishing to give\nprivate communications seldom or never object to the presence of\nthe actual 'medium'--_i.e._ the one on our side. That person seems\nto be regarded as absent, or practically non-existent for a time;\nthe person whose presence they sometimes resent at first is the\n'control,' _i.e._ the intelligence on their side who is ready to\nreceive and transmit their message, somewhat perhaps as an Eastern\nscribe is ready to write the love-letters of illiterate persons.\n\nAs to the presence of a note-taker or third person on our side, such\nperson is taken note of by the control, and when anything private\nor possibly private is mentioned--details of illnesses or such\nlike--that third person is often ordered out of the room. Sometimes\nthe experimenter in charge is likewise politely dispensed with,\nand under these circumstances the sitting occasionally takes on\na poignant character in which note-taking by the deeply affected\nsitter becomes a practical impossibility. But this experience is\ncomparatively rare; it must not be expected, and cannot wisely be\nforced.\n\nAnother circumstance which makes me think that the more responsible\nkind of control is a real person, is that sometimes, after\ngained experience, the Communicator himself takes control, and\nspeaks or writes in the first person, not only as a matter of\nfirst-person-reporting, which frequently occurs, but really in his\nown proper person and with many of his old characteristics. So if\none control is a real person I see no reason against the probability\nof others being real likewise. I cannot say that the tone of voice\nor the handwriting is often thus reproduced--though it is, for a few\nmoments, by special effort sometimes; but the unusual physiological\nmechanism accounts for outstanding or residual differences. Apart\nfrom that, the peculiarities, the attitudes, the little touches\nof manner, are often more or less faithfully reproduced, although\nthe medium may have known nothing of the person concerned. And the\ncharacteristic quality of the message, and the kind of subjects dealt\nwith, become still more marked in such cases of actual control, than\nwhen everything has to be transmitted through a kindly stranger\ncontrol, to whom things of a recondite or technical character may\nappear rather as a meaningless collocation of words, very difficult\nto remember and reproduce.\n\n\nNOTE ON DIFFICULTY OF REMEMBERING NAMES\n\n When operating indirectly in the ordinary way through a\n control and a medium, it usually appears to be remarkably\n difficult to get names transmitted. Most mediums are\n able to convey a name only with difficulty. Now plainly\n a name, especially the proper name of a person, is a\n very conventional and meaningless thing: it has very few\n links to connect it with other items in memory; and hence\n arises the normally well-known difficulty of recalling\n one. Conscious effort made to recover a name seems to\n inhibit the power of doing so: the best plan is to leave\n it, and let subconsciousness work. An example occurred\n to me the other day, when I tried to remember the name\n of a prominent statesman or ex-Prime Minister whom I had\n met in Australia. What I seemed to recollect was that\n the name began with \"D,\" and I made several shots at\n it, which I recorded. The effort went on at intervals\n for days, since I thought it would be an instructive\n experiment. I know now, a month or two later, without\n any effort and without looking it up, that the name was\n Deakin; but what my shots at it were I do not remember.\n I will have the page in the note-book looked up and\n reproduced here, as an example of memory-groping, at\n intervals, during more than one day. Here they are:--D.\n Dering, Denman, Deeming, Derriman, Derring, Deeley,\n Dempster, Denting, Desman, Deering.\n\n Now I knew the name quite well, and have known it for\n long, and have taken some interest in the gentleman who\n owns it; and I am known by some members of my family to\n have done so. Hence if I had been on 'the other side'\n and could only get as far as D, it would have seemed\n rather absurd to anyone whose memory for names is good.\n But indeed I have had times when names very much more\n familiar to me than that could not on the spur of the\n moment be recalled--not always even the initial letter;\n though, for some reason or other, the initial letter is\n certainly easier than the word.\n\n The kind of shots which I made at the name before\n recalling it--which it may seem frivolous to have\n actually recorded--are reminiscent of the kind of shots\n which are made by mediums under control when they too\n are striving after a name; and it was a perception of\n this analogy which caused me to jot down my own guesses,\n or what, in the case of a medium, we should impolitely\n call 'fishing.' I think that the name was certainly in\n my memory though it would not come through my brain. The\n effort is like the effort to use a muscle not often or\n ever used--say the outer ear--one does not know which\n string to pull, so to speak, or, more accurately, which\n nerve to stimulate, and the result is a peculiarly\n helpless feeling, akin to stammering. In the case of a\n medium, I suppose the name is often in the mind of the\n communicator, but it will not come through the control.\n The control sometimes describes it as being spoken or\n shown but not clearly caught. The communicator often does\n not know whether a medium has successfully conveyed it or\n not.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\nVARIOUS PSYCHO-PHYSICAL METHODS\n\n \"If man, then, shall attempt to sound and fathom the\n depths that lie not without him, but within, analogy\n may surely warn him that the first attempts of his rude\n _psychoscopes_ to give precision and actuality to thought\n will grope among 'beggarly elements'--will be concerned\n with things grotesque, or trivial, or obscure. Yet here\n also one handsbreadth of reality gives better footing than\n all the castles of our dream; here also by beginning with\n the least things we shall best learn how great things may\n remain to do.\"--F. W. H. M., Introduction to _Phantasms of\n the Living_\n\n\nI must not shirk a rather queer subject which yet needs touching\nupon, though it bristles with theoretical difficulties; and that is\nthe rationale of one of the most elementary methods of ultra-normal\ncommunication, a method which many find practically the easiest to\nbegin with.\n\nIt is possible to get communication of a kind, not by holding a\npencil in the fingers, but by placing the hand on a larger piece of\nwood not at all adapted for writing with. The movements are then\ncoarser, and the code more elementary; but in principle, when the\nprocedure is analysed, it is seen not to be essentially different. It\nmay be more akin to semaphore-arm signalling or flag-wagging; but any\ndevice whereby mental activity can translate itself into movements\nof matter will serve for subliminal as well as for conscious action;\nand messages by tilting of a table, though crude and elementary, are\nnot really so surprising or absurd as at first sight they seem. The\ntilts of a telegraphic operator's key are still more restricted; but\nthey serve. A pen or pencil is an inanimate piece of matter guided by\nthe fingers. A planchette is a mere piece of wood, and when touched\nit must be presumed to be guided by the muscles,--though there is\noften an illusion, as with the twig of the dowser, that the inanimate\nobject is moved directly, and not by muscular intervention. So also\nwe may assume that a table or other piece of furniture is tilted\nor moved by regular muscular force: certainly it can only move at\nthe expense of the energy of the medium or of people present. And\nyet in all these cases the substance of the message may be foreign\nto the mind of anyone touching the instrument, and the guidance\nnecessary for sense and relevance need not be exercised by their own\nconsciousness.\n\nWhen a table or similar rough instrument is employed, the ostensible\ncommunicators say that they feel more _directly_ in touch with the\nsitters than when they operate through an intermediary or 'control'\non their side,--as they appear to find it necessary to do for actual\nspeech or writing,--and accordingly they find themselves able to give\nmore private messages, and also to reproduce names and technicalities\nwith greater facility and precision. The process of spelling out\nwords in this way is a slow one, much slower than writing, and\ntherefore the method labours under disadvantages, but it seems to\npossess advantages which to some extent counterbalance them.\n\nWhether it sounds credible or not, and it is certainly surprising, I\nmust testify that when a thing of any mobility is controlled in this\nmore direct way, it is able to convey touches of emotion and phases\nof intonation, so to speak, in a most successful manner. A telegraph\nkey could hardly do it, its range of movement is too restricted,\nit operates only in a discontinuous manner, by make and break;\nbut a light table, under these conditions, seems no longer inert,\nit behaves as if animated. For the time it is animated--somewhat\nperhaps as a violin or piano is animated by a skilled musician and\nschooled to his will,--and the dramatic action thus attained is very\nremarkable. It can exhibit hesitation, it can exhibit certainty; it\ncan seek for information, it can convey it; it can apparently ponder\nbefore giving a reply; it can welcome a new-comer; it can indicate\njoy or sorrow, fun or gravity; it can keep time with a song as if\njoining in the chorus; and, most notable of all, it can exhibit\naffection in an unmistakable manner.\n\nThe hand of a writing medium can do these things too; and that\nthe whole body of a normal person can display these emotions is\na commonplace. Yet they are all pieces of matter, though some\nare more permanently animated than others. But all are animated\ntemporarily,--not one of them permanently,--and there appears to be\nno sharp line of demarcation. What we have to realise is that matter\nin any form is able to act as agent to the soul, and that by aid of\nmatter various emotions as well as intelligence can be temporarily\nincarnated and displayed.\n\nThe extraction of elementary music from all manner of\nunlikely objects--kitchen utensils, for instance--is a known\nstage-performance. The utilisation of unlikely objects for purposes\nof communication, though it would not have been expected, may have to\nbe included in the same general category.\n\nWith things made for the purpose, from a violin to the puppets of a\nmarionette show, we know that simple human passions can be shown and\ncan be roused. With things made for quiet other purposes it turns out\nthat the same sort of possibility exists.\n\nTable-tilting is an old and despised form of amusement, known to many\nfamilies and often wisely discarded; but with care and sobriety and\nseriousness even this can be used as a means of communication; and\nthe amount of mediumistic power necessary for this elementary form of\npsychic activity appears to be distinctly less than would be required\nfor more elaborate methods.\n\nOne thing it is necessary clearly to realise and admit, namely\nthat in all cases when an object is moved by direct contact of an\noperator's body, whether the instrument be a pencil or a piece of\nwood, unconscious muscular guidance must be allowed for; and anything\nthat comes through of a kind known to or suspected by the operator\nmust be discounted. Sometimes, however, the message comes in an\nunexpected and for the moment puzzling form, and sometimes it conveys\ninformation unknown to him. It is by the content of the communication\nthat its supernormal value must be estimated.\n\nThere are many obvious disadvantages about a Table Sitting,\nespecially in the slowness of the communications and in the fact\nthat the sitter has to do most of the talking; whereas when some\npersonality is controlling a medium, the sitters need say very little.\n\nBut, as said above, there are some communicators who object to a\ncontrol's presence, especially if they have anything private to say;\nand these often prefer the table because it seems to bring them more\ndirectly into contact with the sitter, without an intermediary.\nThey seem to ignore the presence of the medium on our side,\nnotwithstanding the fact that, at a table sitting, she is present in\nher own consciousness and is aware of what goes on; they appear to\nbe satisfied with having dispensed with the medium on their side.\nMoreover, it is in some cases found that information can be conveyed\nin a briefer and more direct manner, not having to be wrapped up in\nroundabout phrases, that names can be given more easily, and direct\nquestions answered better, through the table than through a control.\n\nIt must be remembered that under control every medium has some\npeculiarities. Mrs. Leonard, for instance, is a very straightforward\nand honest medium, but not a particularly strong one. Accordingly\nanything like conversation and free interchange of ideas is hardly\npossible, and direct questions seldom receive direct answers, when\nput to the communicator through Feda.\n\nI have known mediums much more powerful in this respect, so that free\nconversation with one or two specially skilled communicators was\nquite possible, and interchange of ideas almost as easy as when the\ncommunicator was in the flesh. But instances of that kind are hardly\nto be expected among hard-worked professional mediums.\n\n * * * * *\n\n I shall not in this volume touch upon still more\n puzzling and still more directly and peculiarly physical\n phenomena, such as are spoken of as 'direct voice,'\n 'direct writing,' and 'materialisation.' In these strange\n and, from one point of view, more advanced occurrences,\n though lower in another sense, inert matter appears\n to be operated on without the direct intervention of\n physiological mechanism. And yet such mechanism must be\n in the neighbourhood. I am inclined to think that these\n weird phenomena, when established, will be found to shade\n off into those other methods that I have been speaking\n of, and that no complete theory of either can be given\n until more is known about both. This is one of the facts\n which causes me to be undogmatic about the certainty\n that all movements, even under contact, are initiated\n in the muscles. I only here hold up a warning against\n premature decision. The whole subject of psycho-physical\n interaction and activity requires attention in due time\n and place; but the ground is now more treacherous, the\n pitfalls more numerous, and the territory to many minds\n comparatively unattractive. Let it wait until long-range\n artillery has beaten down some of the entanglements,\n before organised forces are summoned to advance.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV\n\nATTITUDE OF THE WISE AND PRUDENT\n\n \"The vagueness and confusion inevitable at the beginning\n of a novel line of research, [are] naturally distasteful\n to the _savant_ accustomed to proceed by measurable\n increments of knowledge from experimental bases already\n assured. Such an one, if he reads this book, may feel as\n though he had been called away from an ordnance survey,\n conducted with a competent staff and familiar instruments,\n to plough slowly with inexperienced mariners through some\n strange ocean where beds of entangling seaweed cumber the\n trackless way. We accept the analogy; but we would remind\n him that even floating weeds of novel genera may foreshow\n a land unknown; and that it was not without ultimate gain\n to men that the straining keels of Columbus first pressed\n through the Sargasso Sea.\"--F. W. H. M., Introduction to\n _Phantasms of the Living_\n\n\nIt is rather remarkable that the majority of learned men have closed\ntheir minds to what have seemed bare and simple facts to many people.\nThose who call themselves spiritualists have an easy and simple\nfaith; they interpret their experiences in the most straightforward\nand unsophisticated manner, and some of them have shown unfortunately\nthat they can be led into credulity and error, without much\ndifficulty, by unscrupulous people. Nevertheless, that simple-hearted\nfolk are most accessible to new facts seems to be rather accordant\nwith history. Whenever, not by reasoning but by direct experience,\nknowledge has been enlarged, or when a revelation has come to the\nhuman race through the agency of higher powers, it is not the wise\nbut the simple who are first to receive it. This cannot be used as an\nargument either way; the simple may be mistaken, and may too blithely\ninterpret their sense-impressions in the most obvious manner; just as\non the other hand the eyes of the learned may be closed to anything\nwhich appears disconnected from their previous knowledge. For after\nall it is inevitable that any really new order of things must be so\ndisconnected; some little time must elapse before the weight of facts\nimpel the learned in a new direction, and meanwhile the unlearned\nmay be absorbing direct experience, and in their own fashion may be\nforging ahead. It is an example of the ancient paradox propounded in\nand about 1 _Cor._ i. 26; and no fault need be found with what is\nnatural.\n\nIt behoves me to mention in particular the attitude of men of\nscience, of whom I may say _quorum pars parva fui_; for in no way do\nI wish to dissociate myself from either such stricture or such praise\nas may be appropriate to men who have made a study of science their\nvocation,--not indeed the peaks of the race, but the general body.\nFor it is safe to assume that we must have some qualities in common,\nand that these must be among the causes which have switched us on to\na laborious and materially unremunerative road.\n\nMichael Foster said in his Presidential Address to the British\nAssociation at Dover:--\n\n \"Men of science have no peculiar virtues, no special\n powers. They are ordinary men, their characters are\n common, even commonplace. Science, as Huxley said, is\n organised common sense, and men of science are common\n men, drilled in the ways of common sense.\"\n\nThis of course, like any aphorism, does not bear pressing unduly: and\nDr. Arthur Schuster in a similar Address at Manchester hedged it round\nwith qualifying clauses:--\n\n \"This saying of Huxley's has been repeated so often\n that one almost wishes it were true; but unfortunately\n I cannot find a definition of common sense that fits\n the phrase. Sometimes the word is used as if it were\n identical with uncommon sense, sometimes as if it were\n the same thing as common nonsense. Often it means\n untrained intelligence, and in its best aspect it is, I\n think, that faculty which recognises that the obvious\n solution of a problem is frequently the right one. When,\n for instance, I see during a total solar eclipse red\n flames shooting out from the edge of the sun, the obvious\n explanation is that these are real phenomena, caused by\n masses of glowing vapours ejected from the sun. And when\n a learned friend tells me that all this is an optical\n illusion due to anomalous refraction, I object on the\n ground that the explanation violates my common sense. He\n replies by giving me the reasons which have led him to\n his conclusions; and though I still believe that I am\n right, I have to meet him with a more substantial reply\n than an appeal to my own convictions. Against a solid\n argument common sense has no power, and must remain a\n useful but fallible guide which both leads and misleads\n all classes of the community alike.\"\n\nThe sound moral of this is, not that a common-sense explanation is\nlikely to be the right one, or that it necessarily has any merits if\nthere are sound reasons to oppose to it, but that the common sense or\nmost obvious and superficial explanation _may_ turn out to be after\nall truer as well as simpler than more recondite hypotheses which\nhave been substituted for it. In other words--the straightforward\nexplanation need not be false.\n\nNow the phenomena encountered in psychical research have long ago\nsuggested an explanation, in terms of other than living human\nintelligences, which may be properly called spiritistic. Every\nkind of alternative explanation, including the almost equally\nunorthodox one of telepathy from living people, has been tried: and\nthese attempts have been necessary and perfectly legitimate. If\nthey had succeeded, well and good; but inasmuch as in my judgment\nthere are phenomena which they cannot explain, and inasmuch as some\nform of spiritistic hypothesis, given certain postulates, explains\npractically all, I have found myself driven back on what I may call\nthe common-sense explanation; or, to adopt Dr. Schuster's parable, I\nconsider that the red flames round the sun are what they appear to be.\n\nTo attribute capricious mechanical performance to the action of live\nthings, is sufficient as a proximate explanation; as we saw in the\ncase of the jumping bean, Chapter I. If the existence of the live\nthing is otherwise unknown, the explanation may seem forced and\nunsatisfactory. But if after trying other hypotheses we find that\nthis only will fit the case, we may return to it after all with a\nclear conscience. That represents the history of my own progress in\nPsychical Research.\n\n\nAPOLOGIA\n\nMeanwhile the attitude of scientific men is perfectly intelligible;\nand not unreasonable, except when they forget their self-imposed\nlimitations and cultivate a baseless negative philosophy. People\nwho study mechanism of course find Mechanics, and if the mechanism\nis physiological they find Physics and Chemistry as well; but they\nare not thereby compelled to deny the existence of everything else.\nThey need not philosophise at all, though they should be able to\nrealise their philosophical position when it is pointed out. The\nbusiness of science is to trace out the mode of action of the laws of\nChemistry and Physics, everywhere and under all circumstances. Those\nlaws appear to be of universal application throughout the material\nUniverse,--in the most distant star as well as on the earth,--in the\nanimal organism as well as in inorganic matter; and the study of\ntheir action alone has proved an ample task.\n\nBut scientific workers are sometimes thought to be philosophising\nseriously when they should be understood as really only expressing\nthe natural scope of their special subject. Laplace, for instance, is\noften misunderstood, because, when challenged about the place of God\nin his system, he said that he had no need of such a hypothesis,--a\ndictum often quoted as if it were atheistical. It is not necessarily\nanything of the kind. As a brief statement it is right, though rather\nunconciliatory and blunt. He was trying to explain astronomy on clear\nand definite mechanical principles, and the introduction of a \"finger\nof God\" would have been not only an unwarrantable complication but\na senseless intrusion. Not an intrusion or a complication in the\nUniverse, be it understood, but in Laplace's scheme, his _Syst\u00e9me\ndu Monde_. Yet Browning's \"flash of the will that can\" in _Abt\nVogler_, with all that the context implies, remains essentially and\npermanently true.\n\nTheologians who admit that the Deity always works through agents\nand rational means can grant to scientific workers all that they\nlegitimately claim in the positive direction, and can encourage them\nin the detailed study of those agents and means. If people knew more\nabout science, and the atmosphere in which scientific men work, they\nwould be better able to interpret occasional rather rash negations;\nwhich are quite explicable in terms of the artificial limitation of\nrange which physical science hitherto has wisely laid down for itself.\n\nIt is a true instinct which resents the medi\u00e6val practice of freely\nintroducing occult and unknown causes into working science. To\nattribute the rise of sap, for instance, to a 'vital force' would\nbe absurd, it would be giving up the problem and stating nothing at\nall. Progress in science began when spiritual and transcendental\ncauses were eliminated and treated as non-existent. The simplicity\nso attained was congenial to the scientific type of mind; the\nabstraction was eminently useful, and was justified by results. Yet\nunknown causes of an immaterial and even of a spiritual kind may in\nreality exist, and may influence or produce phenomena, for all that;\nand it may have to be the business of science to discover and begin\nto attend to them, as soon as the ordinary solid ground-plan of\nNature has been made sufficiently secure.\n\nSome of us--whether wisely or unwisely--now want to enlarge the\nrecognised scope of physical science, so as gradually to take a\nwider purview and include more of the totality of things. That is\nwhat the Society for Psychical Research was established for,--to\nbegin extending the range of scientific law and order, by patient\nexploration in a comparatively new region. The effort has been\nresented, and at first ridiculed, only because misunderstood. The\neffort may be ambitious, but it is perfectly legitimate; and if it\nfails it fails.\n\nBut advance in new directions may be wisely slow, and it is readily\nadmissible that Societies devoted to long-established branches\nof science are right to resist extraneous novelties, as long as\npossible, and leave the study of occult phenomena to a Society\nestablished for the purpose. Outlandish territories may in time\nbe incorporated as States, but they must make their claim good and\nbecome civilised first.\n\nYet unfamiliar causes must be introduced occasionally into\nsystematised knowledge, unless our scrutiny of the Universe is\nalready exhaustive. Unpalatable facts can be ruled out from\nattention, but they cannot without investigation be denied. Strange\nfacts do really happen, even though unprovided for in our sciences.\nAmid their orthodox relations, they may be regarded as a nuisance.\nThe feeling they cause is as if capricious or mischievous live\nthings had been allowed to intrude into the determinate apparatus of\na physical laboratory, thereby introducing hopeless complexity and\nappearing superficially to interfere with established laws. To avoid\nsuch alien incursion a laboratory can be locked, but the Universe can\nnot. And if ever, under any circumstances, we actually do encounter\nthe interaction of intelligences other than that of living men, we\nshall sooner or later become aware of the fact, and shall ultimately\nhave to admit it into a more comprehensive scheme of existence. Early\nattempts, like those of the present, must be unsatisfactory and\ncrude; especially as the evidence is of a kind to which scientific\nmen for the most part are unaccustomed; so no wonder they are\nresentful. Still the evidence is there, and I for one cannot ignore\nit. Members of the Society for Psychical Research are aware that the\nevidence already published--the carefully edited and sifted evidence\npublished by their own organisation--occupies some forty volumes of\n_Journal_ and _Proceedings_; and some of them know that a great deal\nmore evidence exists than has been published, and that some of the\nbest evidence is not likely to be published,--not yet at any rate. It\nstands to reason that, at the present stage, the best evidence must\noften be of a very private and family character. Many, however, are\nthe persons who are acquainted with facts in their own experience\nwhich appeal to them more strongly than anything that has ever been\npublished. No records can surpass first-hand direct experience in\ncogency.\n\nNevertheless we are also aware, or ought to be, that no one crucial\nepisode can ever be brought forward as deciding such a matter. That\nis not the way in which things of importance are proven. Evidence\nis cumulative, it is on the strength of a mass of experience that an\ninduction is ultimately made, and a conclusion provisionally arrived\nat; though sometimes it happens that a single exceptionally strong\ninstance, or series of instances, may clinch it for some individual.\n\nBut indeed the evidence, in one form and another, has been crudely\nbefore the human race from remote antiquity; only it has been treated\nin ways more or less obfuscated by superstition. The same sort of\noccurrences as were known to Virgil, and to many another seer--the\nsame sort of experiences as are found by folk-lore students, not only\nin history but in every part of the earth to-day--are happening now\nin a scientific age, and sometimes under scientific scrutiny. Hence\nit is that from the scientific point of view progress is at length\nbeing made; and any one with a real desire to know the truth need\nnot lack evidence, if he will first read the records with an open\nmind, and then bide his time and be patient till an opportunity for\nfirst-hand critical observation is vouchsafed him. The opportunity\nmay occur at any time: the readiness is all. Really clinching\nevidence in such a case is never in the past; a _prima facie_ case\nfor investigation is established by the records, but real conviction\nmust be attained by first-hand experience in the present.\n\nThe things to be investigated are either true or false. If false,\npertinacious inquiry will reveal their falsity. If true, they are\nprofoundly important. For there are no half-truths in Nature; every\nsmallest new departure has portentous consequences; our eyes must\nopen slowly, or we should be overwhelmed. I once likened the feeling\nof physical investigators in the year 1889 to that of a boy who had\nlong been strumming on the keyboard of a deserted organ into which\nan unseen power had begun to blow a vivifying breath.[40] That was\nat the beginning of the series of revolutionary discoveries about\nradiation and the nature of matter which have since resounded\nthrough the world. And now once more the touch of a finger elicits a\nresponsive note, and again the boy hesitates, half delighted, half\naffrighted, at the chords which it would seem he can now summon forth\nalmost at will.\n\n [Footnote 40: _Modern Views of Electricity_, p. 408 of\n third and current edition.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI\n\nOUTLOOK ON THE UNIVERSE\n\n\nWhat then is the conclusion of the whole matter? Or rather, what\neffect have these investigations had upon my own outlook on the\nUniverse? The question is not so unimportant as it seems; because if\nthe facts are to influence others they must have influenced myself\ntoo; and that is the only influence of which I have first-hand\nknowledge. It must not be supposed that my outlook has changed\nappreciably since the event and the particular experiences related\nin the foregoing pages: my conclusion has been gradually forming\nitself for years, though undoubtedly it is based on experience of the\nsame sort of thing. But this event has strengthened and liberated my\ntestimony. It can now be associated with a private experience of my\nown, instead of with the private experiences of others. So long as\none was dependent on evidence connected, even indirectly connected,\nwith the bereavement of others, one had to be reticent and cautious\nand in some cases silent. Only by special permission could any\nportion of the facts be reproduced; and that permission might in\nimportant cases be withheld. My own deductions were the same then as\nthey are now, but the facts are now my own.\n\nOne little point of difference, between the time before and the time\nafter, has however become manifest. In the old days, if I sat with a\nmedium, I was never told of any serious imaginary bereavement which\nhad befallen myself--beyond the natural and inevitable losses from an\nolder generation which fall to the lot of every son of man. But now,\nif I or any member of my family goes anonymously to a genuine medium,\ngiving not the slightest normal clue, my son is quickly to the fore\nand continues his clear and convincing series of evidences; sometimes\ngiving testimony of a critically selected kind, sometimes contenting\nhimself with friendly family chaff and reminiscences, but always\nacting in a manner consistent with his personality and memories and\nvarying moods. If in any case a given medium had weak power, or if\nthere were special difficulties encountered on a given occasion, he\nis aware of the fact; and he refers to it, when there is opportunity,\nthrough another totally disconnected medium (cf. Chapter XXI, Part\nII). In every way he has shown himself anxious to give convincing\nevidence. Moreover, he wants me to speak out; and I shall.\n\nI am as convinced of continued existence, on the other side of\ndeath, as I am of existence here. It may be said, you cannot be as\nsure as you are of sensory experience. I say I can. A physicist is\nnever limited to direct sensory impressions, he has to deal with a\nmultitude of conceptions and things for which he has no physical\norgan: the dynamical theory of heat, for instance, and of gases,\nthe theories of electricity, of magnetism, of chemical affinity,\nof cohesion, aye and his apprehension of the Ether itself, lead\nhim into regions where sight and hearing and touch are impotent\nas direct witnesses, where they are no longer efficient guides.\nIn such regions everything has to be interpreted in terms of the\ninsensible, the apparently unsubstantial, and in a definite sense the\nimaginary. Yet these regions of knowledge are as clear and vivid to\nhim as are any of those encountered in everyday occupations; indeed\nmost commonplace phenomena themselves require interpretation in\nterms of ideas more subtle,--the apparent solidity of matter itself\ndemands explanation,--and the underlying non-material entities of a\nphysicist's conception become gradually as real and substantial as\nanything he knows. As Lord Kelvin used to say, when in a paradoxical\nmood, we really know more about electricity than we know about matter.\n\nThat being so, I shall go further and say that I am reasonably\nconvinced of the existence of grades of being, not only lower in the\nscale than man but higher also, grades of every order of magnitude\nfrom zero to infinity. And I know by experience that among these\nbeings are some who care for and help and guide humanity, not\ndisdaining to enter even into what must seem petty details, if by\nso doing they can assist souls striving on their upward course. And\nfurther it is my faith--however humbly it may be held--that among\nthese lofty beings, highest of those who concern themselves directly\nwith this earth of all the myriads of worlds in infinite space, is\nOne on whom the right instinct of Christianity has always lavished\nheartfelt reverence and devotion.\n\nThose who think that the day of that Messiah is over are strangely\nmistaken: it has hardly begun. In individual souls Christianity has\nflourished and borne fruit, but for the ills of the world itself it\nis an almost untried panacea. It will be strange if this ghastly war\nfosters and simplifies and improves a knowledge of Christ, and aids\na perception of the ineffable beauty of his life and teaching: yet\nstranger things have happened; and, whatever the Churches may do, I\nbelieve that the call of Christ himself will be heard and attended\nto, by a large part of humanity in the near future, as never yet it\nhas been heard or attended to on earth.\n\nMy own time down here is getting short; it matters little: but I\ndare not go till I have borne this testimony to the grace and truth\nwhich emanate from that divine Being,--the realisation of whose\ntender-hearted simplicity and love for man may have been overlaid at\ntimes and almost lost amid well-intentioned but inappropriate dogma,\nbut who is accessible as always to the humble and meek.\n\nIntercommunion between the states or grades of existence is not\nlimited to messages from friends and relatives, or to conversation\nwith personalities of our own order of magnitude,--that is only a\nsmall and verifiable portion of the whole truth,--intercourse between\nthe states carries with it occasional, and sometimes unconscious,\ncommunion with lofty souls who have gone before. The truth of such\ncontinued influence corresponds with the highest of the Revelations\nvouchsafed to humanity. This truth, when assimilated by man, means\nan assurance of the reality of prayer, and a certainty of gracious\nsympathy and fellowfeeling from one who never despised the\nsuffering, the sinful, or the lowly; yea, it means more--it means\nnothing less than the possibility some day of a glance or a word of\napproval from the Eternal Christ.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII\n\nTHE CHRISTIAN IDEA OF GOD\n\nA PLEA FOR SIMPLICITY[41]\n\n\nInvestigation is laborious and unexciting; it takes years, and\nprogress is slow; but in all regions of knowledge it is the method\nwhich in the long-run has led towards truth; it is the method by\nwhich what we feel to be solid and substantial progress has always\nbeen made. In many departments of human knowledge this fact is\nadmitted--though men of science have had to fight hard for their\nmethod before getting it generally recognised. In some departments\nit is still contested, and the arguments of Bacon in favour of free\nexperimental inquiry are applicable to those subjects which are\nclaimed as superior to scientific test.\n\nIf it be objected that not by such means is truth in religious\nmatters ascertained, if it be held that we must walk by faith, not\nby sight, and that never by searching will man find out any of the\nsecrets of God, I do not care to contest the objection, though I\ndisagree with its negative portion. That no amount of searching will\never enable us to find out the Almighty to perfection is manifestly\ntrue; that secrets may be revealed to inspired 'babes' which are\nhidden from the wise and prudent is likewise certain; but that no\nsecret things of God can be brought to light by patient examination\nand inquiry into facts is false, for you cannot parcel out truth\ninto that which is divine and that which is not divine; the truths\nof science were as much God's secrets as any other, and they have\nyielded up their mystery to precisely the process which is called in\nquestion.\n\nWe are part of the Universe, our senses have been evolved in and\nby it; it follows that they are harmonious with it, and that the\nway it appeals to our senses is a true way; though their obvious\nlimitation entitles us to expect from time to time fresh discoveries\nof surprising and fundamental novelty, and a growing perception of\ntracts beyond our ancient ken.\n\nSome critics there are, however, who, calling themselves scientific,\nhave made up their minds in a negative direction and a contrary\nsense. These are impressed not only with the _genuineness_ of the\ntruth afforded us through our senses and perceptions, but with\nits _completeness_; they appear to think that the main lines of\nresearch have already been mapped out or laid down, they will not\nbelieve that regions other than those to which they are accustomed\ncan be open to scientific exploration; especially they imagine that\nin the so-called religious domain there can be no guides except\npreconception and prejudice. Accordingly, they appear to disbelieve\nthat anyone can be conscientiously taking trouble to grope his way\nby patient inquiry, with the aid of such clues as are available;\nand in order to contradict the results of such inquiry they fall\ninto the habit of doing that of which they accuse the workers,--they\nappeal to sentiment and presumption. They talk freely about what\nthey believe, what they think unlikely, and what is impossible. They\nare governed by prejudice; their minds are made up. Doubtless they\nregard knowledge on certain topics as inaccessible, so they are\npositive and selfsatisfied and opinionated and quite sure. They pride\nthemselves on their hard-headed scepticism and robust common sense;\nwhile the truth is that they have bound themselves into a narrow cell\nby walls of sentiment, and have thus excluded whole regions of human\nexperience from their purview.\n\n * * * * *\n\nIt so happens that I have been engaged for over forty years in\nmathematical and physical science, and for more than half that period\nin exploration into unusual psychical development, as opportunity\narose; and I have thus been led to certain tentative conclusions\nrespecting permissible ways of regarding the universe.\n\nFirst, I have learned to regard the universe as a concrete and\nfull-bodied reality, with parts accessible and intelligible to us,\nall of it capable of being understood and investigated by the human\nmind, not as an abstraction or dream-like entity whose appearances\nare deceptive. Our senses do not deceive us; their testimony is true\nas far as it goes. I have learned to believe in Intelligibility.\n\nNext, that everything, every single thing, has many aspects. Even\nsuch a thing as water, for instance. Water, regarded by the chemist,\nis an assemblage or aggregate of complex molecules; regarded by the\nmeteorologist and physiographer, it is an element of singular and\nvitally important properties; every poet has treated of some aspect\nof beauty exhibited by this common substance; while to the citizen\nit is an ordinary need of daily life. All the aspects together do\nnot exhaust the subject, but each of them is real. The properties of\nmatter of which our senses tell us, or enable us to inquire into in\nlaboratories, are true properties, real and true. They are not the\nwhole truth, a great deal more is known about them by men of science,\nbut the more complex truths do not make the simpler ones false.\nMoreover, we must admit that the whole truth about the simplest thing\nis assuredly beyond us; the Thing-in-itself is related to the whole\nuniverse, and in its fulness is incomprehensible.\n\nFurthermore, I have learned that while positive assertions on any\ngiven subject are often true, error creeps in when simple aspects\nare denied in order to emphasise the more complex, or _vice versa_.\nA trigonometrical sine, for instance, may be expressed in terms\nof imaginary exponentials in a way familiar to all mathematical\nstudents; also as an infinite series of fractions with increasing\nfactorials in the denominators; also in a number of other true and\nlegitimate and useful ways; but the simple geometrical definition, by\naid of the chord of a circle or the string of a bow, survives them\nall, and is true too.\n\nSo it is, I venture to say, with the concept God.\n\nIt can be regarded from some absolute and transcendental standpoint\nwhich humanity can only pretend to attain to. It can be regarded\nas the highest and best idea which the human mind has as yet been\nable to form. It can be regarded as dominating and including all\nexistence, and as synonymous with all existence when that is made\nsufficiently comprehensive. All these views are legitimate, but they\nare not final or complete. God can also be represented by some of the\nattributes of humanity, and can be depicted as a powerful and loving\nFriend with whom our spirits may commune at every hour of the day,\none whose patience and wisdom and long-suffering and beneficence are\nnever exhausted. He can, in fact, be regarded as displayed to us, in\nsuch fashion as we can make use of, in the person of an incarnate\nBeing who came for the express purpose of revealing to man such\nattributes of deity as would otherwise have been missed.\n\nThe images are not mutually exclusive, they may all be in some sort\ntrue. None of them is complete. They are all aspects--partly true and\npartly false as conceived by any individual, but capable of being\nexpressed so as to be, as far as they go, true.\n\nUndoubtedly the Christian idea of God is the simple one.\nOverpoweringly and appallingly simple is the notion presented to us\nby the orthodox Christian Churches:--\n\nA babe born of poor parents, born in a stable among cattle because\nthere was no room for them in the village inn--no room for them in\nthe inn--what a master touch! Revealed to shepherds. Religious people\ninattentive. Royalty ignorant, or bent on massacre. A glimmering\nperception, according to one noble legend, attained in the Far\nEast--where also similar occurrences have been narrated. Then the\nchild growing into a peasant youth, brought up to a trade. At length\na few years of itinerant preaching; flashes of miraculous power and\ninsight. And then a swift end: set upon by the religious people; his\nfollowers overawed and scattered, himself tried as a blasphemer,\nflogged, and finally tortured to death.\n\nSimplicity most thorough and most strange! In itself it is not\nunique; such occurrences seem inevitable to highest humanity in an\nunregenerate world; but who, without inspiration, would see in them a\nrevelation of the nature of God? The life of Buddha, the life of Joan\nof Arc, are not thus regarded. Yet the Christian revelation is clear\nenough and true enough if our eyes are open, and if we care to read\nand accept the simple record which, whatever its historical value, is\nall that has been handed down to us.\n\nCritics often object that there have been other attempted Messiahs,\nthat the ancient world was expectant of a Divine Incarnation. True\nenough. But what then? We need not be afraid of an idea because it\nhas several times striven to make itself appreciated. It is foolish\nto decline a revelation because it has been more than once offered to\nhumanity. Every great revelation is likely to have been foreshadowed\nin more or less imperfect forms, so as to prepare our minds and make\nready the way for complete perception hereafter. It is probable that\nthe human race is quite incompetent to receive a really great idea\nthe first time it is offered. There must be many failures to effect\nan entrance before the final success, many struggles to overcome\nnatural obstacles and submerge the stony products of human stolidity.\nLapse of time for preparation is required before anything great can\nbe permanently accomplished, and repeated attempts are necessary; but\nthe tide of general progress is rising all the time. The idea is well\nexpressed in Clough's familiar lines:--\n\n \"For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,\n Seem here no painful inch to gain,\n Far back, through creeks and inlets making,\n Comes silent, flooding in, the main.\"\n\nSo it was with the idea of the Messiah which was abroad in the land,\nand had been for centuries, before Christ's coming; and never has he\nbeen really recognised by more than a few. Dare we not say that he is\nmore truly recognised now than in any previous age in the history of\nthe Church--except perhaps the very earliest? And I doubt if we need\nmake that exception.\n\nThe idea of his Messiahship gradually dawned upon him, and he made no\nmistake as to his mission:--\n\n The word which ye hear is not mine, but the Father's who\n sent me.\n\n As the Father gave me commandment, even so I do.\n\n The words which I say unto you I speak not of myself; the\n Father which dwelleth in me, he doeth the works.\n\n The Father is greater than I.\n\n\n But, for all that,\n\n He that hath seen me hath seen the Father.\n\nYes, truly, Christ was a planetary manifestation of Deity, a\nrevelation to the human race, the highest and simplest it has yet\nhad; a revelation in the only form accessible to man, a revelation in\nthe full-bodied form of humanity.\n\nLittle conception had they in those days of the whole universe as we\nknow it now. The earth was the whole world to them, and that which\nrevealed God to the earth was naturally regarded as the whole Cosmic\nDeity. Yet it was a truly divine Incarnation.\n\nA deity of some kind is common to every branch of the human race. It\nseems to be possessed by every savage, overawed as he necessarily\nis by the forces of nature. Caprice, jealousy, openness to flattery\nand rewards, are likewise parts of early theology. Then in the gods\nof Olympus--that poetic conception which rose to such heights and\nfell to such depths at different epochs in the ancient world--the\nattributes of power and beauty were specially emphasised. _Power_\nis common to all deities, and favouritism in its use seems also a\nnatural supposition to early tribes; but the element of _Beauty_,\nas a divine attribute, we in these islands, save for the poets,\nhave largely lost or forgotten--to our great detriment. In\nJehovah, however, the Hebrew race rose to a conception of divine\n_Righteousness_ which we have assimilated and permanently retained;\nand upon that foundation Christianity was grafted. It was to a race\nwho had risen thus far--a race with a genius for theology--that the\nChristian revelation came. It was rendered possible, though only just\npossible, by the stage attained. Simple and unknown folk were ready\nto receive it, or, at least, were willing to take the first steps to\nlearn.\n\nThe power, the righteousness, and other worthy attributes belonging\nto Jehovah, were known of old. The Christian conception takes\n_them_ for granted, and concentrates attention on the pity, the\nlove, the friendliness, the compassion, the earnest desire to help\nmankind--attributes which, though now and again dimly discerned by\none or another of the great seers of old, had not yet been thrown\ninto concrete form.\n\n * * * * *\n\nPeople sometimes seek to deny such attributes as are connoted by\nthe word 'Personality' in the Godhead--they say it is a human\nconception. Certainly it is a human conception; it is through\nhumanity that it has been revealed. Why seek to deny it? God\ntranscends personality, objectors say. By all means: transcends all\nour conceptions infinitely, transcends every revelation which has\never been vouchsafed; but the revelations are true as far as they go,\nfor all that.\n\nLet us not befog ourselves by attempting impossible conceptions to\nsuch an extent that we lose the simple and manifest reality. No\nconception that we can make is too high, too good, too worthy. It\nis easy to imagine ourselves mistaken, but never because ideas are\ntoo high or too good. It were preposterous to imagine an over-lofty\nconception in a creature. Reality is always found to exceed our\nclear conception of it; never once in science has it permanently\nfallen short. No conception is too great or too high. But also no\ndevout conception is too simple, too lowly, too childlike to have an\nelement--some grain--of vital truth stored away, a mustard seed ready\nto germinate and bud, a leaven which may permeate the whole mass.\n\nI would apply all this to what for brevity may be called Human\nImmortality. It is possible to think of that rather simply; and, on\nthe other hand, it is possible to confuse ourselves with tortuous\nthoughts till it seems unreal and impossible. It is part of the\nproblem of personality and individuality; for the question of how far\nthese are dependent on the bodily organism, or whether they can exist\nwithout it, is a scientific question. It is open to research. And yet\nit is connected with Christianity; for undoubtedly the Christian idea\nof God involves a belief in human immortality. If _per impossible_\nthis latter could be authoritatively denied, a paralysing blow would\nhave been struck at the Christian idea. On the other hand, if by\nscientific investigation the persistence of individual memory and\ncharacter were proved, a great step in the direction of orthodox\ntheology would have been taken.\n\nThe modern superstition about the universe is that, being suffused\nwith law and order, it contains nothing personal, nothing\nindeterminate, nothing unforeseen; that there is no room for the\nfree activity of intelligent beings, that everything is mechanically\ndetermined; so that given the velocity and acceleration and position\nof every atom at any instant, the whole future could be unravelled by\nsufficient mathematical power.\n\nThe doctrines of Uniformity and Determinism are supposed to be based\nupon experience. But experience includes experience of the actions\nof human beings; and some of them certainly appear to be of a\ncapricious and undetermined character. Or without considering human\nbeings, watch the orbits of a group of flies as they play; they are\nmanifestly not controlled completely by mechanical laws as are the\nmotions of the planets. The simplest view of their activity is that\nit is self-determined, that they are flying about at their own will,\nand turning when and where they choose. The conservation of energy\nhas nothing to say against it. Here we see free-will in its simplest\nform. To suppose anything else in such a case, to suppose that every\ntwist could have been predicted through all eternity, is to introduce\npr\u00e6ternatural complexity, and is quite unnecessary.\n\nWhy not assume, what is manifestly the truth, that free-will exists\nand has to be reckoned with, that the universe is not a machine\nsubject to outside forces, but a living organism with initiations\nof its own; and that the laws which govern it, though they include\nmechanical and physical and chemical laws, are not limited to those,\nbut involve other and higher abstractions, which may perhaps some day\nbe formulated, for life and mind and spirit?\n\nIf it be said that free-will can be granted to deity but to nothing\nlower, inasmuch as the Deity must be aware of all that is going to\nhappen, I reply that you are now making a hypothesis of a complicated\nkind, and going beyond knowledge into speculation. But if still the\nspeculation appears reasonable, that only the Deity can be endowed\nwith free-will, it merely opens the question, What shall be included\nin that term? If freedom is the characteristic mark of deity, then\nthose are justified who have taught that every fragment of mind and\nwill is a contributory element in the essence of the Divine Being.\n\nHow, then, can we conceive of deity? The analogy of the human\nbody and its relation to the white corpuscles in its blood is\ninstructive. Each corpuscle is a living-creature endowed with the\npowers of locomotion, of assimilation, and, under certain conditions\nnow being inquired into, of reproduction by fission. The health and\npolity of the body are largely dependent on the activity of these\nphagocytes. They are to us extremely important; they are an essential\npart of our being.\n\nBut now suppose one of these corpuscles endowed with\nintelligence--what conception of the universe will it be able to\nform? It may examine its surroundings, discourse of the vessels\nthrough which it passes, of the adventures it encounters; and\nif philosophically minded, it may speculate on a being of which\nperhaps it and all its like form a part--an immanent deity, whose\nconstituents they are, a being which includes them and includes all\nelse which they know or can imagine--a being to whose existence\nthey contribute, and whose purposes they serve or share. So far\nthey could speculate, and so far they would be right. But if they\nproceeded further, and entered on negations, if they surmised that\nthat immanent aspect of the universe in which they lived and moved\nand had their being was the sole and only aspect, if they surmised\nthat there was no personality, no feeling, no locomotion, no mind,\nno purpose, apart from them and their kind, they would greatly err.\nWhat conception could they ever form of the manifold interests and\nactivities of man? Still less of the universe known to man, of which\nhe himself forms so trivial a portion.\n\nAll analogies fail at some point, but they are a help nevertheless,\nand this analogy will bear pressing rather far. We ourselves are a\npart of the agencies for good or evil; we have the power to help or\nto hinder, to mend or to mar, within the scope of our activity. Our\nhelp is asked for; lowly as we are, it is really wanted, on the earth\nhere and now, just as much wanted as our body needs the help of its\nlowly white corpuscles--to contribute to health, to attack disease,\nto maintain the normal and healthy life of the organism. We are the\nwhite corpuscles of the cosmos, we serve and form part of an immanent\nDeity.\n\nTruly it is no easy service to which we are called; something of\nthe wisdom of the serpent must enter into our activities; sanity\nand moral dignity and sound sense must govern our proceedings; all\nour powers must be called out, and there must be no sluggishness.\nImpulses, even good impulses, alone are not sufficient; every faculty\nof the human brain must be exerted, and we must be continually on\nguard against the flabbiness of mere good intentions.\n\nOur activity and service are thus an integral part of the Divine\nExistence, which likewise includes that of all the perceptible\nuniverse. But to suppose that this exhausts the matter, and that the\nDeity has no transcendent Existence of which we can form no idea,--to\nsuppose that what happens is not the result of his dominant and\ncontrolling Personality, is to step beyond legitimate inference, and\nto treat appearance as exhaustive of reality.\n\nAlways mistrust negations. They commonly signify blindness and\nprejudice--except when thoroughly established and carefully\nformulated in the light of actual experience or mathematical proof.\nAnd even then we should be ready to admit the possibility of higher\ngeneralisations which may uproot them. They are only safe when thrown\ninto the form of a positive assertion.\n\nThe impossibility of squaring the circle is not really a negative\nproposition, except in form. It is safer and more convincing when\nthrown into the positive and definite form that the ratio of area\nto diameter is incommensurable. That statement is perfectly clear\nand legitimate; and the illustration may be used as a parable. A\npositive form should be demanded of every comprehensive denial; and\nwhatever cannot be thrown into positive form, it is wise to mistrust.\nIts promulgator is probably stepping out of bounds, into the cheap\nand easy region of negative speculation. He is like a rationalistic\nmicrobe denying the existence of a human being.\n\nI have urged that the simple aspect of things is to be considered and\nnot despised; but, for the majority of people, is not the tendency\nthe other way? Are they not too much given to suppose the Universe\nlimited to the simplicity of their first and everyday conception of\nit? The stockbroker has his idea of the totality of things; the navvy\nhas his. Students of mathematical physics are liable to think of it\nas a determinate assemblage of atoms and ether, with no room for\nspiritual entities--no room, as my brilliant teacher, W. K. Clifford,\nexpressed it, no room for ghosts.\n\nBiological students are apt to think of life as a physicochemical\nprocess of protoplasmic structure and cell organisation, with\nconsciousness as an epiphenomenon. They watch the lowly stages of\nanimal organisms, and hope to imitate their behaviour by judicious\ntreatment of inorganic materials. By all means let them try; the\neffort is entirely legitimate, and not unhopeful. That which has\ncome into being in the past may come into being under observation in\nthe present, and the intelligence and co-operation of man may help.\nWhy not? The material vehicle would thus have been provided--in this\ncase, without doubt, purposely and designedly--for some incipient\nphase of life. But would that in the least explain the nature of life\nand mind and will, and reduce them to simple atomic mechanism and\ndynamics? Not a whit. The real nature of these things would remain an\nunanswered question.\n\nDuring the past century progress has lain chiefly in the domain of\nthe mechanical and material. The progress has been admirable, and\nhas led to natural rejoicing and legitimate pride. It has also led\nto a supposition that all possible scientific advance lies in this\nsame direction, or even that all the great fundamental discoveries\nhave now been made! Discovery proceeds by stages, and enthusiasm at\nthe acquisition of a step or a landing-place obscures for a time\nour perception of the flight of stairs immediately ahead; but it is\nrational to take a more comprehensive view.\n\nPart of our experience is the connexion of spirit with matter. We are\nconscious of our own identity, our own mind and purpose and will: we\nare also conscious of the matter in which it is at present incarnate\nand manifested. Let us use these experiences and learn from them.\nIncarnation is a fact; we are not matter, yet we utilise it. Through\nthe mechanism of the brain we can influence the material world; we\nare in it, but not of it; we transcend it by our consciousness. The\nbody is our machine, our instrument, our vehicle of manifestation;\nand through it we can achieve results in the material sphere. Why\nseek to deny either the spiritual or the material? Both are real,\nboth are true. In some higher mind, perhaps, they may be unified:\nmeanwhile we do not possess this higher mind. Scientific progress\nis made by accepting realities and learning from them; the rest is\nspeculation. It is not likely that we are the only intelligent beings\nin the Universe. There may be many higher grades, up to the Divine;\njust as there are lower grades, down to the amoeba. Nor need all\nthese grades of intelligence be clothed in matter or inhabit the\nsurface of a planet. That is the kind of existence with which we are\nnow familiar, truly, and anything beyond that is for the most part\nsupersensuous; but our senses are confessedly limited, and if there\nis any truth in the doctrine of human immortality the existence of\nmyriads of departed individuals must be assumed, on what has been\ncalled \"the other side.\"\n\nBut how are we to get evidence in favour of such an apparently\ngratuitous hypothesis? Well, speaking for myself and with full and\ncautious responsibility, I have to state that as an outcome of my\ninvestigation into psychical matters I have at length and quite\ngradually become convinced, after more than thirty years of study,\nnot only that persistent individual existence is a fact, but that\noccasional communication across the chasm--with difficulty and under\ndefinite conditions--is possible.\n\nThis is not a subject on which one comes lightly and easily to a\nconclusion, nor can the evidence be explained except to those who\nwill give to it time and careful study; but clearly the conclusion\nis either folly and self-deception, or it is a truth of the utmost\nimportance to humanity--and of importance to us in connexion with our\npresent subject. For it is a conclusion which cannot stand alone.\nMistaken or true, it affords a foothold for a whole range of other\nthoughts, other conclusions, other ideas: false and misleading if the\nfoothold is insecure, worthy of attention if the foothold is sound.\nLet posterity judge.\n\nMeanwhile it is a subject that attracts cranks and charlatans. Rash\nopinions are freely expressed on both sides. I call upon the educated\nof the younger generation to refrain from accepting assertions\nwithout severe scrutiny, and, above all, to keep an open mind.\n\nIf departed human beings can communicate with us, can advise us and\nhelp us, can have any influence on our actions,--then clearly the\ndoors are open to a wealth of spiritual intercourse beyond what we\nhave yet imagined.\n\nThe region of the miraculous, it is called, and the bare possibility\nof its existence has been hastily and illegitimately denied. But so\nlong as we do not imagine it to be a region denuded of a law and\norder of its own, akin to the law and order of the psychological\nrealm, our denial has no foundation. The existence of such a region\nmay be established by experience; its non-existence cannot be\nestablished, for non-experience might merely mean that owing to\ndeficiencies of our sense organs it was beyond our ken. In judging of\nwhat are called miracles we must be guided by historical evidence and\nliterary criticism. We need not urge _a priori_ objections to them on\nscientific grounds. They need be no more impossible, no more lawless,\nthan the interference of a human being would seem to a colony of ants\nor bees.\n\nThe Christian idea of God certainly has involved, and presumably\nalways will involve, an element of the miraculous,--a flooding of\nhuman life with influences which lie outside it, a controlling of\nhuman destiny by higher and beneficent agencies. By evil agencies\ntoo? Yes, the influences are not all on one side; but the Christian\nfaith is that the good are the stronger. Experience has shown to many\na saint, however tormented by evil, that appeal to the powers of good\ncan result in ultimate victory. Let us not reject experience on the\nground of dogmatic assertion and baseless speculation.\n\nHistorical records tell us of a Divine Incarnation. We may\nconsider it freely on historical grounds. We are not debarred from\ncontemplating such a thing by anything that science has to say to\nthe contrary. Science does not speak directly on the subject. If the\nhistorical evidence is good we may credit it, just as we may credit\nthe hypothesis of survival if the present-day evidence is good. It\nsounds too simple and popular an explanation--too much like the kind\nof ideas suited to unsophisticated man and to the infancy of the\nrace. True; but has it not happened often in the history of science\nthat reality has been found simpler than our attempted conception of\nit? Electricity long ago was often treated as a fluid; and a little\ntime ago it was customary to jeer at the expression--legitimate in\nthe mouth of Benjamin Franklin, but now apparently outgrown. And yet\nwhat else is the crowd of mobile electrons, postulated by [not] the\nvery latest theory, in a metal? Surely it is in some sense a fluid,\nthough not a material one? The guess was not so far wrong after all.\nMeanwhile we learned to treat it by mathematical devices, vector\npotential, and other recondite methods. With great veneration I speak\nof the mathematical physicists of the past century. They have been\nalmost superhuman in power, and have attained extraordinary results,\nbut in time the process of discovery will enable mankind to apprehend\nall these things more simply. Progress lies in simple investigation\nas well as in speculation and thought up to the limits of human\npower; and when things are really understood, they are perceived to\nbe fairly simple after all.\n\nSo it seems likely to be with a future state, or our own permanent\nexistence; it has been thought of and spoken of as if it were\naltogether transcendental--something beyond space and time (as it\nmay be), something outside and beyond all conception. But it is\nnot necessarily so at all; it is a question of fact; it is open\nto investigation. I find part of it turning out quite reasonably\nsimple; not easy to grasp or express, for lack of experience and\nlanguage--that is true,--but not by any means conveying a feeling\nof immediate vast difference and change. Something much more like\nterrestrial existence, at least on one aspect of it, than we had\nimagined. Not as a rule associated with matter; no, but perhaps\nassociated with ether--an etherial body instead of a material one;\ncertainly a body, or mode of manifestation, of some kind. It appears\nto be a state which leaves personality and character and intelligence\nmuch where it was. No sudden jump into something supernal, but steady\nand continued progress. Many activities and interests beyond our\npresent ken, but with a surviving terrestrial aspect, occasionally\naccessible, and showing interest in the doings of those on earth,\ntogether with great desire to help and to encourage all efforts for\nthe welfare of the race. We need not search after something so far\nremoved from humanity as to be unintelligible.\n\n * * * * *\n\nSo likewise with the idea of God.\n\nNo matter how complex and transcendentally vast the Reality must be,\nthe Christian conception of God is humanly simple. It appeals to the\nunlettered and ignorant; it appeals to \"babes.\"\n\nThat is the way with the greatest things. The sun is the centre of\nthe solar system, a glorious object full of mystery and unknown\nforces, but the sunshine is a friendly and homely thing, which shines\nin at a cottage window, touches common objects with radiance, and\nbrings warmth and comfort even to the cat.\n\nThe sunshine is not the sun, but it is the human and terrestrial\naspect of the sun; it is that which matters in daily life. It\nis independent of study and discovery; it is given us by direct\nexperience, and for ordinary life it suffices.\n\nThus would I represent the Christian conception of God. Christ is the\nhuman and practical and workaday aspect. Christ is the sunshine--that\nfraction of transcendental Cosmic Deity which suffices for the earth.\nJesus of Nazareth is plainly a terrestrial heritage. His advent is\nthe glory, His reception the shame, of the human race.\n\n * * * * *\n\nOnce more, then. Although there may be undue simplification of the\ncomplex, there is also an undue complication of the simple; it is\neasy to invent unnecessary problems, to manufacture gratuitous\ndifficulties, to lose our way in a humanly constructed and quite\nundivine fog. But the way is really simple, and when the fog lifts\nand the sunshine appears, all becomes clear and we proceed without\neffort on our way: the wayfaring man, though a fool, need not err\ntherein. The way, the truth, and the life are all one. Reality\nis always simple; it is concrete and real and expressible. Our\ncustomary view of the commonest objects is not indeed the last word,\nnay, rather, it is the first word, as to their nature; but it is a\ntrue word as far as it goes. Analysing a liquid into a congeries\nof discrete atoms does not destroy or weaken or interfere with its\nproperty or fluidity. Analysing an atom into electrons does not\ndestroy the atom. Reducing matter to electricity, or to any other\netherial substratum, does not alter the known and familiarly utilised\nproperties of a bit of wood or iron or glass, in the least; no, nor\nof a bit of bone or feather or flesh. Study may superadd properties\nimperceptible to the plain man, but the plain man's concrete and\nsimple view serves for ordinary purposes of daily life.\n\nAnd God's view, strange to say, must be more akin to that of the\nplain man than to that of the philosopher or statistician. That is\nhow it comes that children are near the kingdom of heaven. It is\nnot likely that God really makes abstractions and \"geometrises.\"\nAll those higher and elaborate modes of expression are human\ncounters; and the difficulties of dealing with them are human too.\nOnly in early stages do things require superhuman power for their\napprehension; they are easy to grasp when they are really understood.\nThey come out then into daily life; they are not then matters of\nintellectual strain; they can appeal to our sense of beauty; they\ncan affect us with emotion and love and appreciation and joy; they\ncan enter into poetry and music, and constitute the subject-matter\nof Art of all kinds. The range of art and of enjoyment must increase\ninfinitely with perfect knowledge. This is the atmosphere of God.\n\"Where dwells enjoyment, there is He.\" We are struggling upwards into\nthat atmosphere slowly and laboriously. The struggle is human, and\nfor us quite necessary, but the mountain top is serene and pure and\nlovely, and its beauty is in nowise enhanced by the efforts of the\nexhausted climber, as he slowly wins his way thither.\n\nYet the effort itself is of value. The climber, too, is part of the\nscheme, and his upward trend may be growth and gain to the whole.\nIt adds interest, though not beauty. Do not let us think that the\nuniverse is stagnant and fixed and settled and dull, and that all\nits appearance of \"going on\" is illusion and deception. I would even\nventure to urge that, ever since the grant to living creatures of\nfree will, there must be, in some sense or other, a real element of\ncontingency,--that there is no dulness about it, even to the Deity,\nbut a constant and aspiring Effort.\n\nLet us trust our experience in this also. The Universe is a flux, it\nis a becoming, it is a progress. Evolution is a reality. True and not\nimaginary progress is possible. Effort is not a sham. Existence is a\ntrue adventure. There is a real risk.\n\nThere was a real risk about creation--directly it went beyond the\ninert and mechanical. The granting of choice and free will involved a\nrisk. Thenceforward things could go wrong. They might be kept right\nby main force, but that would not be playing the game, that would not\nbe loyalty to the conditions.\n\nAs William James says: A football team desire to get a ball to a\ncertain spot, but that is not all they desire; they wish to do it\nunder certain conditions and overcome inherent difficulties--else\nmight they get up in the night and put it there.\n\nSo also we may say, Good is the end and aim of the Divine Being; but\nnot without conditions. Not by compulsion. Perfection as of machinery\nwould be too dull and low an achievement--something much higher is\nsought. The creation of free creatures who, in so far as they go\nright, do so because they will, not because they must,--that was the\nDivine problem, and it is the highest of which we have any conception.\n\nYes, there was a real risk in making a human race on this planet.\nUltimate good was not guaranteed. Some parts of the Universe must\nbe far better than this, but some may be worse. Some planets may\ncomparatively fail. The power of evil may here and there get the\nupper hand: although it must ultimately lead to suicidal destructive\nfailure, for evil is pregnant with calamity.\n\nThis planet is surely not going to fail. Its destinies have been more\nand more entrusted to us. For millions of years it laboured, and\nnow it has produced a human race--a late-comer to the planet, only\nrecently arrived, only partly civilised as yet. But already it has\nproduced Plato and Newton and Shakespeare; yes, and it has been the\ndwelling-place of Christ. Surely it is going to succeed, and in good\ntime to be the theatre of such a magnificent development of human\nenergy and power and joy as to compensate, and more than compensate,\nfor all the pain and suffering, all the blood and tears, which have\ngone to prepare the way.\n\nThe struggle is a real one. The effort is not confined to humanity\nalone: according to the Christian conception God has shared in it.\n\"God so loved the world that He gave\"--we know the text. The earth's\ncase was not hopeless; the world was bad, but it could be redeemed;\nand the redemption was worth the painful effort which then was\nundergone, and which the disciples of the Cross have since in their\nmeasure shared. Aye, that is the Christian conception; not of a God\napart from His creatures, looking on, taking no personal interest\nin their behaviour, sitting aloof only to judge them; but One who\nanxiously takes measures for their betterment, takes trouble, takes\npains--a pregnant phrase, takes pains,--One who suffers when they go\nwrong, One who feels painfully the miseries and wrongdoings and sins\nand cruelties of the creatures whom He has endowed with free will;\nOne who actively enters into the storm and the conflict; One who\nactually took flesh and dwelt among us, to save us from the slough\ninto which we might have fallen, to show us what the beauty and\ndignity of man might be.\n\nWell, it is a great idea, a great and simple idea, so simple as to be\nincredible to some minds. It has been hidden from many of the wise\nand prudent; it has been revealed to babes.\n\n * * * * *\n\nTo sum up: Let us not be discouraged by simplicity. Real things are\nsimple. Human conceptions are not altogether misleading. Our view of\nthe Universe is a partial one but is not an untrue one. Our knowledge\nof the conditions of existence is not altogether false--only\ninadequate. The Christian idea of God is a genuine representation of\nreality.\n\nNor let us imagine that existence hereafter, removed from these atoms\nof matter which now both confuse and manifest it, will be something\nso wholly remote and different as to be unimaginable; but let us\nlearn by the testimony of experience--either our own or that of\nothers--that those who have been, still are; that they care for us\nand help us; that they, too, are progressing and learning and working\nand hoping; that there are grades of existence, stretching upward\nand upward to all eternity; and that God Himself, through His agents\nand messengers, is continually striving and working and planning, so\nas to bring this creation of His through its preparatory labour and\npain, and lead it on to an existence higher and better than anything\nwe have ever known.\n\n [Footnote 41: _Hibbert Journal_, July 1911.]\n\n\nINDEX\n\n\n Abstraction, 370, 372, 380\n\n _Abt Vogler_, 297, 370\n\n Acorn, 290\n\n Acquired characters, Inheritance of, 323, 324\n\n Acrostic, 19, 21, 25, 145\n\n Adonis, 304\n\n \u00c6neid, 14, 317, 319\n\n Aeroplane, 142\n\n Agents, 291, 371, 386, 396\n\n Alec, 35, 46, 53, 70, 71, 120, 146, 147, 157, 162, 193,\n 202, 208, 224, 271, 272, 276\n\n Amoeba, 389\n\n Animation of Matter, 363\n\n Anonymity, 96, 117, 128, 129, 180, 240, 247\n\n Anticipation and Reality, 303, 384, 386\n\n Argonauts, 153, 155, 211, 250, 274\n\n Army officers, 53\n\n Arnold, Sir Edwin, 302, 322\n\n Art, 393\n\n Aspasia, 13\n\n Asquith, Mr., 55\n\n Atheism, 370\n\n Atomic Theory, 288\n\n Atonement, 178, 249, 395\n\n Attacks, 52, 53\n\n Aunt Anne, 175\n\n Aunt Jennie, 203\n\n Australia, 9, 117, 149\n\n Automatic Writing, 86, 90, 94, 117, 118, 119, 120, 123,\n 124, 205, 206, 207, 225, 350, 352, 355\n\n\n Bacon, Lord, 378\n\n Bailey, 61\n\n Balfour, Rt. Hon. G. W., 283\n\n Banks, Mitchell, 155\n\n Barbara, 38, 112, 145, 223\n\n Barrett, Sir W. F., 86\n\n Bayfield, Rev. M. A., 92\n\n Beads on string, 288\n\n Bean, Jumping, 289, 293, 369\n\n Beauty, 305, 383, 393\n\n Bedales, 4, 136\n\n Beehive, 291\n\n Belgian stove, 44\n\n Belgium, 25, 39\n\n Bereavement, 47, 102, 342, 374\n\n Bergson, Professor, 191, 333, 340, 348\n\n Biddy, 168\n\n Bill, Brother. See William\n\n Birmingham, 133\n\n Birthday, 212, 235\n\n Boast, Captain S. T., 77, 108, 110, 112, 113\n\n Body, 194, 195, 235, 305, 313, 318, 319, 320, 323, 388,\n 391\n\n Body and Mind, 328, 330\n\n Books, 5, 132, 209\n\n Boy at organ, 373\n\n Brain, Function of, 340\n\n Bricklaying, 34\n\n Bridging the chasm, 83, 389\n\n Briscoe, A. E., 109, 111\n\n British Warm, 19\n\n Brittain, Mrs., 161\n\n Brodie (B.), 208, 214\n\n Brothers, Two, 200, 210\n\n Browne, Sir James Crichton, 291\n\n Browning, 1, 297, 370\n\n Buddha, 381\n\n Burial, 48, 50, 65, 235\n\n Burial, Care taken in, 68\n\n Burlton, Lieut., 53\n\n\n Calamity, 322\n\n Calendar of Photograph, 115\n\n Cambridge, 286\n\n Card, Memorial, 12\n\n Case, Lieut., 42, 75, 76, 77, 114, 141, 279\n\n Caton, Dr., 155\n\n Cavalry officers, 54\n\n Change of Conditions, 306\n\n Charlatans, 389\n\n Chasm bridging, 83, 389\n\n Ch\u00e2teau, 25, 26, 27, 66\n\n Cheerfulness, 36, 42, 50, 59, 70, 71, 98, 99, 126, 127,\n 159, 187, 204\n\n Chemistry, 100, 133, 288\n\n Chemistry and Physics, 370\n\n Cheves, Captain, 78, 106, 206\n\n Childhood, 5, 8\n\n Christian claim, 85\n\n Christianity, 178, 232, 376, 381, 383, 392, 395\n\n Christmas, 188, 190, 205, 207, 218\n\n Christopher Sonnenschein, 240, 247\n\n Clairvoyance, 86, 129\n\n Clegg, Mrs., 237, 239, 241, 243, 253\n\n Clifford, W. K., 388\n\n Clothes, 189, 197, 199\n\n Clough, A. H., 382\n\n Code signalling, 362\n\n Coleridge, 304\n\n Columbus, 367\n\n Coming down hill, 154, 155, 156\n\n Common-sense explanations, 348, 369\n\n Communicating, Instruction in, 165\n\n Communication, 389\n\n Communicator, 87, 171, 358\n\n Coniston, 52, 155\n\n Consciousness, 330, 332, 333\n\n Conservation, 290\n\n Constructive ability, 290, 291, 336\n\n Contingency, 289, 312, 385, 393, 394\n\n Continuity, 335, 391\n\n Control, 86, 103, 163, 167, 170, 171, 183, 238, 241, 357,\n 358, 360\n\n Control, Method, 126\n\n Cooking, 28\n\n 1 Corinthians i. 26, 368\n\n Corpuscles (white), 385, 386\n\n Cotton, Colonel, 53\n\n Covering Party, 68\n\n Creatures, Living, 304\n\n Crookes, Sir William, 170, 342\n\n Cross, Falling, 99, 128\n\n Cross-correspondence, 135, 159, 160, 172, 182, 189, 190,\n 241, 242, 253\n\n Crystal and Organism, 293\n\n Curly, 203, 273, 278\n\n\n Dallas, Miss H. A., 86\n\n Damp, 62, 70\n\n Darlington, 240, 247\n\n Dartmoor, 154, 155, 211, 214\n\n Darwin, 310, 335\n\n Darwin and Mendel, 285\n\n Dead Matter, 289\n\n Deakin, The Hon. Mr. Alfred, 360\n\n Death, 6, 103, 126, 127, 134, 183, 202, 249, 294, 295,\n 296, 298, 300, 306, 313\n\n Decay, 303\n\n Depression, 48, 203\n\n Design, 317, 393\n\n Determinism, 385, 394\n\n Diary Entry, 31, 108, 111, 115, 116, 148\n\n Dickebusch, 21, 75\n\n Digging, 36, 44\n\n Diotima, 83\n\n Direct Voice, 193, 201, 365\n\n Direct Writing, 365\n\n Dog, 79, 154, 203, 273, 278\n\n Dogmatism, 314\n\n Dowsing, 363\n\n Dream, 31, 34, 35\n\n Dualism, 284, 320\n\n Dug-outs, 33, 53, 57\n\n Dvinsk, 130\n\n Dynamics, 286\n\n\n E. A. Episode, 243, 244, 245, 267\n\n Ecclesiastes, 92\n\n Eclipse, Solar, 369\n\n Edinburgh, 3, 10, 45, 52\n\n Effort, Real, 393, 395\n\n Eggs and bacon, 67\n\n Egyptian tombs, 302\n\n Electric charge, 290\n\n Electricity, 286, 290, 375, 391\n\n Electricity, Modern views on, 373\n\n Electrons, 391\n\n Elusiveness, 319\n\n Emotion, Conveyance of, 220, 221, 222, 278, 363\n\n Energy, Directed, 138, 144, 151, 291\n\n Engineering, 3, 9, 29, 240\n\n Enjoyment, 393\n\n Enquiry, 313, 314\n\n Enquiry, Free, 378\n\n Enteric, 25, 46\n\n Entry in Diary, 31, 108, 111, 115, 116, 148\n\n Epiphenomenon, 283, 388\n\n Ether, 286, 298, 318, 319, 336, 339, 375, 391\n\n Ether of Space, The, 319\n\n Etherial body, 319, 336\n\n Evidence, 115, 151, 159, 201, 308, 324, 373\n\n Evil, 230, 353, 390, 394\n\n Evolution 292, 336\n\n Exclusion, 372, 379\n\n Exposure, 62, 70\n\n Extrapolation, 284, 286\n\n\n Facts, 287, 288, 308, 310, 314\n\n Faith, 367\n\n Falling Cross, 99, 128\n\n Faunus, 104, 315\n\n Faunus message, 90\n\n Fear, 126, 132, 168, 174, 175, 300\n\n Feda, 98, 120, 121, 125, 180, 191, 192, 213, 236, 260, 261\n\n Ferry, 154, 156, 157\n\n Fiacre, 55\n\n Fiddler, 46\n\n Finding people, 254\n\n Finger of God, 370\n\n Fire-fly, 290\n\n Fitzgerald, 305\n\n Fletcher, Lieut., 17, 22, 23, 31, 32, 33, 36, 37, 38, 39,\n 41, 42, 43, 49, 51, 75, 77\n\n Flopping about, 239, 242\n\n Flowers, 227, 235, 258, 269\n\n Foster, Sir Michael, 368\n\n Franklin, Benjamin, 391\n\n Freedom, 289, 384, 394, 395\n\n Free enquiry, 378\n\n Free-will, 289, 315, 333, 385\n\n Future, 313\n\n\n Gale & Polden, 112, 113, 279\n\n Gardener, 255, 256\n\n Gas, 30, 47, 49\n\n Gow, Mr., 111\n\n Grades of Being, 375, 389, 396\n\n Grades of Existence, 389, 395\n\n Grandfather W., 121, 122, 127, 143, 159, 181, 184, 209\n\n Granny, 121, 165\n\n Grave, 78, 298, 302, 304\n\n Gray, 61, 67, 76\n\n Greece, 185\n\n Greenbank, 8\n\n Gregory, R. A., 338\n\n Grove Park, 5, 135, 145\n\n Gullane, 35, 95\n\n Gunn, Marjorie, 58\n\n Gurney, Edmund, 143, 145\n\n Guy Le Breton, 122, 123\n\n\n Habits, 324\n\n Haldane, Dr. J. S., 283\n\n Harborne, 51\n\n Harris, Professor Fraser, 293, 294\n\n Hell, 230, 353\n\n Helmet, German, 64\n\n Helping, 98, 102, 103, 123, 126, 143, 150, 160, 166, 178,\n 185, 226, 232, 241, 243, 279, 307, 325, 376, 386, 391\n\n Herdman, Professor, 295\n\n _Hibbert Journal_, 283, 285, 378\n\n Hill, Coming down, 154, 155, 156\n\n Hill, Mr. J. Arthur, 86, 101, 109, 111, 174, 260\n\n Hill, 60, 38, 45, 58\n\n Hockey, 148\n\n Hodgson, Dr. Richard, 88, 90\n\n Holden, Mr., 57, 65\n\n Holt, Alfred, 155\n\n Homeliness, 184, 336, 337\n\n Honolulu, 216, 271, 274\n\n Honor, 112, 122, 186, 194, 219, 222, 272, 276\n\n Hooge, 63, 64, 74, 75\n\n Hope, Anthony, 41\n\n Horace, 91, 93, 104\n\n Hospitality, 53\n\n House-hunting, 56\n\n Houses, 135, 145, 230\n\n Humour, 349\n\n Humour of the life in France, 56\n\n Hun, 69\n\n Huxley, 308, 368\n\n Hyacinthus, 304\n\n Hypothesis, 287, 288, 389\n\n\n Immanence, 386\n\n Impersonal Memory, 348\n\n Impersonations, 357\n\n Impossibility, 387\n\n Impression, 126, 160, 209\n\n Incarnation, 381, 383, 388, 390\n\n Individual Case, 84, 85\n\n Infinitude, 309\n\n Information got from Sitters, 192, 196, 199\n\n Inheritance of acquired characters, 323, 324\n\n Inhibition, 138, 340\n\n Inspection by Army Corps Commander, 71\n\n Inspiration, 381\n\n Instruction in communicating, 165\n\n Instruments, 320\n\n Intelligibility, 380\n\n Interaction, 283, 317, 366, 372\n\n Intercommunion, 376\n\n \"Irish Eyes,\" 215\n\n Italy, 11, 43, 45, 144, 278\n\n\n Jackson, Mr., 256, 258, 278\n\n James, Professor Wm., 87, 394\n\n J. K. Episode, 254, 266\n\n Joan of Arc, 381\n\n Johnsons, 32\n\n Jumping bean, 289, 293, 369\n\n\n Kelvin, Lord, 286, 375\n\n Kennedy, Mrs., 96, 97, 117, 120, 129, 158, 205\n\n Kitchener, Lord, 55\n\n Knife-rests, 28\n\n\n Langland Bay, 157\n\n Lankester, Sir E. Ray, 332\n\n Laplace, 370, 385\n\n Larry, 79, 154, 278\n\n Laws, Mr., 17, 21, 23, 39, 42, 43, 51\n\n Leave, 52, 54, 55\n\n Lectures, 43, 265\n\n Leith, Miss, 70\n\n Leith, Professor, 24\n\n Leonard, Mrs. Orborne, 98, 101, 106, 118, 121, 365\n\n Lethe, 327\n\n Life, 289\n\n Life and Energy, 290\n\n Life and Matter, 320\n\n Light, 286\n\n Lights, Coloured, 264\n\n Lights, \"Very,\" 22, 24, 30, 31, 64\n\n Lily, 134, 159, 187, 190, 199, 200, 210, 221, 229, 273\n\n Limitation of Scope, 341\n\n Linga, The, 67, 95\n\n Lionel, 70, 147, 180, 186, 188, 193, 196, 202, 271, 273\n\n Liverpool, 3, 10, 135\n\n Living creatures, 304\n\n Lodge Brothers, 3, 9, 79\n\n Lodge Fume Deposit Co., 79\n\n Longfellow, 306\n\n Loos, 74\n\n Lorna, 52, 112, 220, 224\n\n Lusitania, 299, 300\n\n\n M.A.Oxon., 350\n\n Machine Gun, 3, 52, 54, 61, 66, 73, 77\n\n Madame Le Breton, 97, 119, 121, 123, 135\n\n Maggie Magee, 215\n\n Magnetism, 144, 164, 290\n\n Maps, 251, 252\n\n Margaret, 45\n\n Mariemont Sittings, 158, 159, 182, 190, 194, 211, 217,\n 219, 222, 273, 274, 275\n\n Mariemont, Views of, 224\n\n Materialisation, 184, 197, 198, 201, 268, 365\n\n Materialism, 249, 284, 285, 310\n\n Mathematical Physics, 286\n\n Matter, Dead, 289\n\n Matter and Life, 320\n\n Maurice, 40, 41, 43, 72\n\n Maxwell, Clerk, 391\n\n McCreadie, Miss, 228\n\n M'Dougal, Professor, 283\n\n Meagreness of Conceptions, 310\n\n Mechanics, 289\n\n Mechanism, 88, 388\n\n Medium of artist, 88, 320, 339\n\n Mediums, 118, 128, 330, 358\n\n Memorial Card, 12\n\n Memorial Tablet, 7\n\n Memory, 259, 326, 327, 330, 348, 357\n\n Mendel and Darwin, 285\n\n Menexenus, 13\n\n Merlin, 93\n\n Messiah, 376, 382\n\n Microbe, 387\n\n Military terms, 41\n\n Mind and Matter, 291, 339\n\n Mines, 57, 61\n\n Miracles, 390\n\n Missionary spirit, 325\n\n Missionary zeal, 83\n\n Mitchell, Captain, 141, 142, 146, 149\n\n Mitchell, Dr. Chalmers, 333, 334, 335\n\n M. N. W., 228, 229\n\n Molesworth, 71\n\n Monism, 284\n\n Moonstone, 100, 105, 129, 164, 177\n\n Moses, Rev. Stainton, 350\n\n Motor, Nagant, 277\n\n Motor-buses, 51, 52, 72\n\n Motoring, 58, 156\n\n Motors, 58, 71, 212, 252, 278\n\n Mott, Dr., 329\n\n Mud, 17, 20, 184\n\n Muirhead, Dr. Alex., 170\n\n Muirhead, Prof. J. H., 337\n\n Music, 46, 222, 234\n\n \"My Southern Maid,\" 216\n\n Myers, 84, 85, 88, 90, 92, 96, 97, 98, 100, 101, 103,\n 104, 122, 143, 145, 159, 169, 177, 201, 203, 206, 234,\n 249, 312, 316, 336, 362, 367\n\n\n Nagant Motor, 275, 277, 278\n\n Names, 173\n\n Names, Difficulty in remembering, 360\n\n Negations, 379, 387, 390\n\n Nerve cases, 40\n\n Newcastle, 145, 220\n\n Newton, 286, 394\n\n Nicknames, 148\n\n No\u00ebl, 22, 70, 140, 146, 148, 224, 276\n\n Norah, 38, 39, 52, 219, 271, 273\n\n Norman, 140, 146, 147, 148, 179\n\n Note-book, 326\n\n Note-taking, 358\n\n\n O'Brien, Sergeant, 33\n\n Old age, 295\n\n Olive, Miss, 227, 229, 262, 269\n\n Oliver, 6, 45, 52, 135\n\n Olives, 131, 144\n\n Omniscience, 316\n\n \"Orange Girl, My,\" 215\n\n Oratorio, 290\n\n Orderly, 16, 18, 28, 61, 67, 76\n\n Organ, Boy at, 373\n\n Organising Power. See Constructive Ability\n\n Organism and Crystal, 293\n\n Ouija, 186, 356\n\n Outlook, 374\n\n\n Paraffin, exchange for window, 44\n\n Partition, 100, 133, 306, 345\n\n Pat, 140, 148, 161, 223\n\n Paul Kennedy, 117, 119, 121, 123, 146, 149, 176, 234,\n 235, 241\n\n Peace, 25, 50\n\n Peacock, 256, 257, 258, 278\n\n Pedestal, 257, 279\n\n Penkhull, 8\n\n Periscope rifle attachments, 62\n\n Personal possessions, 324\n\n Personality, 298, 336, 383, 387, 391\n\n Peters, Mr. A. Vout, 99, 104, 105, 118, 129, 162, 163,\n 174, 178, 260\n\n Phagocytes, 386\n\n Phinuit, Dr., 129\n\n Phonograph, 328\n\n Photograph, 105, 112, 114, 116, 132, 206, 279\n\n Photograph, Calendar of, 115\n\n Photograph, Description of, 110\n\n Physical phenomena, 137, 218, 222, 224, 277\n\n Physics and Chemistry, 370\n\n Piddington, Mr., 172\n\n Piper, Mrs., 87, 90, 94, 95, 129, 228\n\n Planchette, 356, 362\n\n Planisphere, 30\n\n Plato, 13, 394\n\n Plotinus, 325, 327, 330, 337\n\n Plumer, Sir Herbert, 71\n\n Polchet, M., 43, 45, 46, 51\n\n Policy not philosophy, 284, 285\n\n Poperinghe, 71\n\n Prayer, 183, 227, 307, 376\n\n Prediction. See Prevision\n\n Prejudice, 379\n\n Prevision, 35, 130, 185, 312, 314, 315, 316, 385\n\n Primus stove, 18, 29, 44\n\n Prisoners, 47\n\n Private affairs, 374\n\n Professional mediums, 118, 128\n\n Prognostication. See Prevision\n\n Progress, 395\n\n Protoplasm, 388\n\n Psychometry, 305, 306\n\n Purpose, 285\n\n\n Questions, Test, 152, 157, 159, 224, 249\n\n\n Ralph, 173, 273, 274\n\n Raps, 89\n\n Rathbone, William, 8\n\n Rats, 28\n\n Rawnsley, Canon, 12\n\n Reality and Anticipation, 303, 384, 386\n\n Record sleeps, 66, 119, 120, 121, 123, 145\n\n Rector, 129\n\n Red flames, 369\n\n Red roses, 246, 261\n\n Redfeather, 166, 235\n\n Relics, 305, 324\n\n Reninghelst, 113\n\n Resurrection, 298, 322, 323\n\n Revelation, 309, 376, 384\n\n Reverse, 34\n\n Riding, 37, 38\n\n Risk, 394\n\n Robbins, Miss, 90\n\n Rocking-horse, 220\n\n Rods and rings, 251, 253\n\n Room in Violet's house, 45, 226\n\n Rosalynde, 109, 112, 145, 272\n\n Roscoe, Lt. William, 42, 58, 60, 73\n\n Roses, 46, 47, 246, 261\n\n Ross, Sir Ronald, 294\n\n Rossetti, 296\n\n Roumania, 186\n\n Rowland, 35, 131, 135, 191, 226\n\n Russell, Bertrand, 315\n\n Russia, 186\n\n\n Sacraments, 321\n\n Sacrifice, 178, 249\n\n Salter, Captain, 48\n\n Sandboat, 251, 252, 253, 260\n\n Satellites of Jupiter, 341\n\n Sausages, 59, 61, 67\n\n Schuster, Dr. Arthur, 303, 368, 369\n\n Science, Men of, 368\n\n Secondary personality, 86, 171, 357\n\n Selection, 88\n\n Self-control, 225\n\n Senses, 380\n\n Serbia, 186\n\n Serenading, 46\n\n Serious messages, 352\n\n Serious side, 11, 233, 234, 259, 263, 266\n\n Servants, 16, 18, 28, 61, 67, 76\n\n Shakespeare, 304, 315, 394\n\n Shell shock, 329\n\n Shelley, 81\n\n Shelling, 3, 32, 60, 62\n\n Shrapnel, 32, 45, 47\n\n Sighs, 139, 160\n\n Simplicity, 380, 381, 384, 391, 392, 395\n\n Sinai, 335\n\n Singing, 201, 212, 213\n\n Sitter, 358\n\n Sitters, Information from, 192, 196, 199\n\n Slang, 40\n\n Sleeps, 66, 119, 120, 121, 123, 145\n\n Small Heath, 79, 132, 133\n\n Smyth, Dr. J. Patterson, 344\n\n Snipers, 48\n\n Sniperscopes, 63, 68\n\n Solidity, 184, 194, 198, 209, 375\n\n Songs, 212, 215, 222\n\n Sonnenschein, Professor, 240, 246, 247\n\n Sophistication, 87, 88, 180, 192, 213, 351\n\n Souvenir, 64, 69\n\n Speculation, 310\n\n Speech, 338\n\n Spirit and Matter, 320, 323\n\n _Spirit Teachings_, 350\n\n Spiritual body, 319\n\n S. P. R., 83, 84, 85, 87, 89, 100, 102, 104, 114, 133,\n 172, 346, 371, 372\n\n Stallard, 79, 154\n\n Stand-to, 43, 44, 65, 66\n\n Stars, 24, 30, 200, 306, 309\n\n Stead, Mr., 131, 178\n\n St. Eloi, 73, 75\n\n St. Germains, 277\n\n St. Omer, 51\n\n St. Paul, 102, 170\n\n String, 196\n\n String of beads, 288\n\n Strong, Professor, 94\n\n Suffering, 178\n\n Summerland, 224, 230, 233, 263\n\n Superstition, 318\n\n Supremacy of Spiritual over Material, 317\n\n Surroundings of non-material existence, 336\n\n Survival, General, 336\n\n Survival of Man, 83, 86, 87, 101, 172\n\n Swinburne, 4, 7\n\n Symbols, 305\n\n Symposium, 83\n\n\n Table tilting, 89, 121, 122, 136, 137, 138, 143, 144,\n 151, 183, 190, 224, 270, 362, 363, 364\n\n Tate, Harry, 54\n\n Taylor, Captain, 15, 17, 22, 37, 63, 64, 69, 71, 72\n\n Telegram, 153\n\n Telekinesis, 89\n\n Telepathy, 88, 114, 275, 283, 313, 339, 346\n\n Telephone operators, 87\n\n Telergy, 88\n\n Tennyson, 281, 289, 305, 309, 316, 320, 326, 345, 348\n\n Tent, 250, 252, 266\n\n Tent Lodge, Coniston, 155\n\n Tests, 152, 157, 159, 224, 249\n\n Theological attitude, 314\n\n Theology, 352, 384, 395\n\n Think things wanted said, 159\n\n Thomas, Humphrey, 17, 23, 31, 42, 43, 47, 49\n\n Thompson, Mrs. Isaac, 112\n\n Thomson, Professor J. Arthur, 283\n\n Thought Forms, 184, 198, 230\n\n Tools, 320\n\n Trance, 129, 356\n\n Trance medium, 86, 88\n\n Transcendence, 380, 384\n\n Transition, 101, 288, 306\n\n Trench improvement, 29, 33, 36, 63, 64, 66\n\n Trenches, 20, 24\n\n Trivial messages, 346, 349\n\n Truncation of Life, 322\n\n Tunnel simile, 100, 133\n\n\n Uncle Jerry, 166\n\n Unity, 284, 306, 307, 337\n\n Unverifiable statements, 171, 188, 195, 196, 207, 209,\n 226, 230, 347\n\n\n Ventris, Mr., 57, 74, 76, 77, 78\n\n Verrall, Mr., 88, 91, 336\n\n Versailles, 43\n\n Violet, 35, 45, 52, 134, 226\n\n Virgil, 14, 317, 319, 373\n\n Vital Force, 371\n\n Voice, 193, 201, 365\n\n\n Walker, Messrs. Thos. & Son, 63\n\n Wallace, Dr. A. Russel, 334, 342\n\n War, 185, 309\n\n Warning, 225, 342\n\n Way, Lieutenant, 53, 55\n\n Weddings, 58\n\n Weismann, Professor, 295, 323\n\n Whizz-bangs, 56, 60\n\n Will, 134\n\n William (see also Grandfather and Gardener), 159, 187,\n 190, 210, 213, 221, 229\n\n Window, exchange for paraffin, 44\n\n Winifred, 52\n\n Winter campaign, 50\n\n Wireless telegraphy, 244, 338\n\n Wolseley Motor Works, 4, 79\n\n Wood, Miss. F. A., 218, 221\n\n Woolacombe, 250, 253\n\n Wordsworth, vi\n\n Workers, 291\n\n Wriedt, Mrs., 118\n\n Wyatt, Lieut., 19, 42\n\n\n Yacht, 251, 266\n\n Yogi, 177\n\n Ypres, 12, 31, 44, 47, 58, 74, 78, 92\n\n\n Zeppelins, 228","title":"Raymond; or, Life and Death: With examples of the evidence for survival of memory and affection after death.","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":134487}