Part 12

A gentleman in Iowa related to me his experience while insensible from the effect of cold. He was overtaken by a fearful storm, such as sometimes sweep across the prairies, and, losing his way after hours of vain struggling, sank exhausted in a drift of snow. The past events of his life came in a panoramic show before him, but so rapidly moving, that from boyhood until that moment was as an instant; then came a sense of perfect physical happiness, and he began dimly to see the forms of those whom he had known while living, but were now dead. They grew more and more distinct, but just as they came near and were, as he thought, overjoyed to receive him, darkness came suddenly and great pain; the vision faded, and he became conscious of the presence of his friends who had rescued him, and were applying every measure to restore him to life. How near he had reached the boundary line, the "dead line" beyond, from which there is no return to the body, was shown by his crippled hands and feet.

It is a singular fact that no one has ever recovered from a near approach to this line, who does not tell the same tale of an exalted perception and intensification of the mental faculties. Sometimes this is exhibited by the recognition of an event then transpiring, with which the subject is intimately connected, as in the following, wherein the deaths of near relatives or friends are discerned:

It is a historical fact that Rev. Joseph Buckminster, who died in Vermont, in 1812, just before his death, announced that his distinguished son, Rev. J. S. Buckminster, was dead.

The Eaton (O.) Telegraph gives the following parallel case: "On Wednesday morning last, at four o'clock, Gen. John Quince breathed his last. But a few minutes after that, Joseph Deem, who also died on the 14th, aroused from his sleep, and said to his son John, who attended him, 'Gen. Quince is dead.' To this John replied, 'You are mistaken, father, Gen. Quince is well, and goes by after his mail every day.' 'Yes,' said Father Deem, 'Gen. Quince is dead.' Shortly after a neighbor came in, and said that Gen. Quince had suddenly died."

Whenever the power of expression is retained, we see the development of clairvoyance at the approach of death. Sometimes the paralysis of the muscles prevents vocal expression, but where this is the case, the eyes show the ecstasy which the lifting of the vail from a new world only can give.

Mrs. Helen Willmans relates this touching story of the death of her child:

"From her birth she had been afraid of death. Every fiber of her body and soul recoiled from the thought of it.

"'Don't let me die!' she said. 'Don't let me die! Hold me fast--I can't go.'

"'Jenny,' I said, 'you have two little brothers in the other world, and there are thousands of tender-hearted people over there, who will love and take care of you.'

"But she cried despairingly, 'Don't let me go. They are strangers over there.'

"But even as she was pleading her little hands relaxed their clinging hold from my waist, and lifted themselves eagerly aloft; lifted themselves with such a straining effort that they raised the wasted body from its reclining position among the pillows. Her eyes filled with the light of divine recognition. They saw plainly something we could not see. But even at that supreme moment she did not forget to leave a word of comfort for those who gladly would have died in her place. 'Mamma! mamma! they are not strangers. I am not afraid!' And every instant the light burned more gloriously in her blue eyes, until at last it seemed as her soul leaped forth upon its radiant waves, and in that moment her trembling form relapsed among the pillows, and she was gone."

Thus we perceive that sensitiveness, which is first manifested in the mesmeric state, breaks in at rare intervals, during wakefulness or sleep, as vivid impressions or dreams, arises to clairvoyance as the spirit and physical body are separated more and more, and reaches its most intense expression at the moment of death, when the union between the two is severed.

It is after this great event that the spiritual being, formed from attenuated substance, far beyond the horizon of the most ethereal known to the senses, is free from the environments of the physical body. It sees, hears, feels, with the organization of its new being, and is cognizant of a world unknown to the mortal senses.

Thought Transference.

The English Society for Psychical Research have given greater attention to thought transference than any other subject which has engaged its attention, claiming that if it be proved, it becomes the foundation for a working theory, co-ordinating a vast number of related facts and phenomena. It was the conclusion of the committee after numerous experiments, that thought reading was an established fact. The adage, "The devil is near when you talk about him," is proven daily; for when an individual is going to a certain place expecting to meet certain ones, his thoughts go before him, and impress themselves. When those connected by intimate relations think of each other, their thoughts vibrate in responsive brains. Distance has inappreciable influence on the transference of thought. It may take place in the same room, or when the two persons are thousands of miles apart. As a personal experience I will relate one of many similar incidents which have awakened my attention to this wonderful phenomenon. Sitting by my desk one evening, suddenly as a flash of light, the thought came to write an article for the Harbinger of Light, published at Melbourne, Australia. I had by correspondence become acquainted with the editor, W. H. Terry, but there had been no letters passed for nearly a year. I had not thought of him or his journal, for I do not know how long a time, and I was amused at first with the idea of writing on the subject suggested. But the impression was so strong that I prepared and forwarded an article. Nearly two months passed before I received a letter from Mr. Terry requesting me to write an article on the subject, on which I had written, and making due allowance for time, the dates of our letters were the same. In our experience this crossing of letters answering each other, has twice occurred, the second by Mr. Terry answering a request of mine.

I have gathered a series of facts illustrative and demonstrative, by their culminative evidence. If any one statement be questioned as improbable, we must consider the probabilities increase with each and every instance corroboratory, and when a constantly augmenting series continue in the same line, each number adding strength to the others, the probability becomes a certainty.

Dr. Nicolas, Count de Gonémys, of Corfu, gives his personal experience in March number, 1885, of the Journal of the Society for Psychical Research:

"In the year 1869 I was officer of health in the Hellenic army. By command of the War Office I was attached to the garrison of the Island of Zante. As I was approaching the Island in a steamboat, to take up my new position, and about two hours distance from the shore, I heard a sudden inward voice say to me over and over in Italian, 'Go to Voterra.' I had no association with the name of M. Voterra, a gentleman of Zante, with whom I was not even acquainted, although I had once seen him, ten years before. I tried the effect of stopping my ears, and of trying to distract myself by conversation with the bystanders, but all was useless, and I continued to hear the voice in the same way. At last we reached the land; I proceeded to my hotel and busied myself with my trunks, but the voice continued to harass me. After a time a servant came and announced to me that a gentleman was at the door who wished to speak to me at once. 'Who is the gentleman?' I asked. 'M. Voterra,' was the reply. M. Voterra entered, weeping violently, in uncontrollable distress, imploring me to follow him at once, and see his son who was in a dangerous condition. I found a young man in maniacal frenzy, naked in an empty room, and despaired of by all the doctors of Zante for the past five years."

By magnetism Dr. Nicolas effected a perfect cure, the maniac becoming in the mesmeric state clairvoyant.

The following is by C. Ede, M. D., Guilford (J. S. P. R., July, 1882).

"Lady G. and her sister had been spending the evening with their mother, who was in her usual health and spirits when they left her. In the middle of the night the sister awoke in a fright, and said to her husband, 'I must go to my mother at once; do order the carriage. I am sure she is ill.' The husband, after trying in vain to convince his wife that it was only a fancy, ordered the carriage. As she was approaching the house where two roads met, she saw Lady G.'s carriage. When they met each asked the other why she was there. The same reply was made by both. 'I could not sleep, feeling sure my mother was ill, and so I came to see.' As they came in sight they saw their mother's confidential maid at the door, who told them when they arrived, that their mother had been taken suddenly ill, and was dying, and had expressed an earnest wish to see her daughters."

The daughters having so recently parted from their mother, made them peculiarly susceptible to her influence.

T. W. Smith, Ealing, W. England (J. S. P. R., July, 1882), had this experience, showing the close bonds which unite husband and wife:

"I left my house, ten miles from London, in the morning as usual, and in the course of the day was on the way to Victoria Street, when, in attempting to cross the road made slippery by the water cart, I fell, and was nearly run over by a carriage coming in an opposite direction. The fall and the fright shook me considerably, but beyond that I was uninjured. On reaching home, I found my wife waiting anxiously, and this is what she related to me: She was in the kitchen when she suddenly dropped, exclaiming, 'My God, he's hurt!' Mrs. S. who was near her heard the cry, and both agreed as to the time, etc."

The Rev. P. H. Newham (J. S. P. R., Feb. 1887), relates an extended series of experiments in will power. He was able while in church to draw the attention of any one in the audience by simply directing his thoughts to them. He experimented at a series of concerts, selecting those in front of him so that they could not catch his eye by simply raising their heads. "It was very interesting," he writes, "to see them first fidget about in their seats and at last turn their heads around and look about them, as if to see whence the uncomfortable feeling that influenced them proceeded."

The London Spectator for Christmas, 1881, contains an interesting story by A. J. Duffield, of thought transference. The gist of this story is that a Mr. Strong went to Lake Superior and became foreman of the Franklin copper mine. He fell sick and would have died but for the care of a lady whose husband was a director of the mining company. She had him carried to her own house, and nursed him with kindest care until he recovered. Seven years after this event, when he had drifted away from the mines, he was sitting by himself one evening, when he suddenly saw this kind lady in a room with nothing in it, no fire, no food. She was calm and quiet, with the same face she had when she nursed him in the fever. He thereby was made deeply conscious that she was in distress, and sent her a most liberal amount of money by mail. The day after he received a letter from the lady, saying that her husband was sick, and that they were in great suffering, and asking for aid.

In this instance the mind of Capt. Strong was bound to his preserver with strong bonds, love, gratefulness and expectation of some time repaying his great obligation. It was in proper condition for the reception of such thoughts, while, on the other hand, under the pressure of suffering, the lady's mind was in a condition to give force to the emanating thoughts.

The Springfield Homestead published what it called an odd circumstance, but so far from being odd is of proverbially common occurrence. A Mrs. A. and her daughter called on their relative, Mrs. B., of Central Street. On their way thither they remarked how pleased they would be if Mrs. B.'s daughter, Mrs. L., of Hartford, could only be there too. This remark was repeated to Mrs. B., and she replied that her thoughts were similar. Then one of them recalled the old saying that the combined thoughts of three women can bring any one from any place, and the reply was made that if wishing would bring Mrs. L. she would surely come. Mrs. B. prepared strawberry cake, saying her daughter, Mrs. L., was fond of it, and that she was going to lay a plate for her just as though she were there. As they were sitting down to tea, the door bell rang and in came the much wished for Mrs. L., greatly to their surprise. When asked how she happened to come, she replied that she did not intend to do so until that day, and decided to do so because tormented with the impression that some one wanted to see her. She is not accustomed to come to Springfield, not having visited her sister before in a year.