CHAPTER V
ON HALLUCINATIONS IN GENERAL

NONE of the obscure phenomena dealt with by the Society for Psychical Research have excited more attention, and been more widely misinterpreted, than the apparitions of the dying which form the subject-matter of the next chapter. Such apparitions are reported to have occurred far back in the world's annals. Some historical instances will no doubt occur to the reader. The memory of a mental attitude now outgrown is apt to be shortlived, and it is perhaps not superfluous to point out that until some twenty or thirty years ago, say, there were only two explanations of such occurrences commonly recognised. By the majority of the educated classes they were dismissed as mere inventions of the popular imagination, like the tales of elves, nymphs, fauns, hobgoblins, and the whole tribe of fairyland. In the belief of the people they were held to be what they seemed, the authentic appearances of the dead—certissimæ mortis imagines. Even now the endorsement of these dubious shapes by the Society for Psychical Research has done more, probably, than anything else to prejudice our investigations. Those who have themselves discarded the heritage of a primeval animism can hardly bring themselves to credit that we also are to that extent emancipated; and the implicit assumption that we regard such appearances as in some sense a part of the dying man, a double, an astral body, a visible soul, still prevails in some quarters.

Let it be understood, then, that in this and the following chapter the apparitions or "ghosts" of which instances will be cited are regarded primarily as hallucinations. A hallucination is a sensory perception which corresponds to no sensory reality[1]; it is a creation of the brain; in the case of a visual hallucination we may describe it as the final member in a series of which intermediate terms can be traced in the half realised pictures that flit before our waking thought in every act of memory; the imagery which fills our consciousness in dreams; and the mind's eye visions so frequently seen by artists and others with a vivid imagination, of which some telepathic examples have been cited in Chapter III. A hallucination may be roughly described as a waking dream; and it is for our purpose more interesting and more significant than a dream only because it is a much rarer phenomenon, and because the circumstance that it takes a place amongst the imagery of the external world seen by the waking eyes makes it likely to be more certainly remembered and more accurately recorded.

But to most persons the word "hallucination" still carries with it some implication of disease.

The man in the street when he hears the word probably thinks of Huxley's Mrs. A., and of Goethe's butt, Nicolai, the Berlin bookseller: and in both these cases the hallucinations were symptoms of maladies for which the sufferers were under medical treatment. It is only within the last generation that even medical men have come to recognise that hallucinations may occur amongst sane and healthy people; that they are indeed of much more frequent occurrence, say, than smallpox or typhoid fever, and that they may imply no greater functional disturbance than a toothache or a cold. For within the last generation our knowledge of the subject has been increased by two methods. In the first place an increasing familiarity with hypnotism has enabled us to reproduce hallucinations at will. A subject in the somnambulic stage of the hypnotic sleep will not merely see and hear what he is hidden to see or hear at the time; but will also, in obedience to the experimenter's suggestion, summon up like unsubstantial visions after the trance has terminated. I have seen a lady, some time after being awakened, gratefully accept a blank card as a photograph of a friend: I have myself persuaded an educated man, in full possession apparently of his normal senses, to mistake blue for green and yellow for pink. That hallucinations thus imposed are really seen there can be little doubt; they are even amenable in some cases to the usual optical tests, and can be magnified by a lens, or reflected in a mirror, or give rise to after-images. With a good subject there is apparently no limit to this power to perceive suggested hallucinations. Edmund Gurney, following the example of some Continental hypnotists, caused by this means a lifelike apparition of himself to appear to an astonished servant girl.[2]

But the spontaneous hallucinations of normal healthy persons are more pertinent to our present enquiry than these post-somnambulic visions. The late Professor Sidgwick, at the instance of the Congress of Experimental Psychology which met in Paris in 1889, with the aid of a committee of members of the Society for Psychical Research, instituted a census of spontaneous hallucinations of the sane. In the course of three or four years 17,000 persons, the greater part resident in the United Kingdom, were questioned on the subject.[3] The results showed that 655 out of 8372 men, and 1029 out of 8628 women, or 9.9 per cent. of the whole number, had experienced a sensory hallucination at some time in their lives; many more than once. Of the whole number of hallucinations about two thirds affected the sense of sight, the remainder being concerned with hearing and touch. It is the visual hallucinations, however, which most concern us, and the following table gives an analysis of the things represented in the 1112[4] visions, the conditions under which they were seen, and the period in which they are recorded as having been seen.

Visual Hallucinations[5]
——— Within the last 10 years More than 10 years ago Un-dated Totals
Realistic Human Apparitions Of Living Persons Immediately after waking 16 24 3 43
Awake in bed 31 43 3 77
Up 78 64 7 149
Out of doors 31 31 8 70
Unstated 1 4 8 13
    Totals 157 166 29 352
Of Living Persons Immediately after waking 5 3 8
Awake in Bed 19 25 2 46
Up 26 42 6 74
Out of doors 9 10 19
Unstated 3 5 8 16
    Totals 62 85 16 163
Of Living Persons Immediately after waking 18 10 8 36
Awake in bed 31 54 5 90
Up 47 42 22 111
Out of doors 30 33 4 67
Unstated 1 10 11
    Totals 126 140 49 315
Incompletely Developed Aparations Immediately after waking 12 12 24
Awake in bed 19 29 2 50
Up 23 20 4 47
Out of doors 5 22 2 19
Unstated 1 1 1 3
  Totals 60 74 9 143
Incompletely Developed Aparations Immediately after waking 9 5 4 18
Awake in bed 3 24 4 31
Up 27 22 8 57
Out of doors 14 12 26
Unstated 2 1 4 7
  Totals 55 64 20 139

It will be seen that three quarters of the visual hallucinations represented a lifelike human figure, in the majority of cases known to the percipient. It will further be noted that, in view of the comparatively short period of our waking hours spent in bed, a disproportionately large number of the hallucinations occurred under such conditions—a fact due no doubt largely to the quiescence and freedom from disturbance obtaining.

Apart from their interest for psychologists generally as representing an incursion into a field hitherto practically unexplored—the hallucinations of sane and healthy persons[6]—the results of the census have an important bearing upon the evidence for the telepathic hypothesis. As already pointed out, in most experiments at close quarters we can calculate with some approach to exactness the probabilities against the results coinciding by chance; our difficulty in such cases is to eliminate the possible operation of hyperaesthesia, etc. But when, as in case No. 33, Prince Duleep Singh sees the vision of his father who is dying hundreds of miles away, we know that no intimation or anticipation of the death can have reached him by normal means. But we are not therefore entitled to assume a causal connection between the hallucination and the death. Though not so common as dreams, hallucinations, it may be objected, are of sufficiently frequent occurrence to render a chance coincidence not impossible. To justify the inference that the Prince's vision, and the other similar visions preserved in our records, really point to a causal connection with the death of the person represented, we must be able to show that coincidences of this kind are more numerous than the frequency of noncoincident hallucinations would account for. The census gives us the material for the calculation required. But the figures cannot, it must be premised, be taken at their face value. If we turn again to the table quoted on page 104 we shall note, as a significant fact, that the hallucinations recorded as occurring during the previous ten years approach pretty nearly to the sum of all the rest. Further, on a closer analysis of the records the committee found that the most recent year was more prolific than the rest of the decade; the most recent quarter again was more prolific than the other quarters; the most recent month more prolific than the rest of the quarter. It is clear that forgetfulness has seriously vitiated the results. After a careful estimate of all the circumstances the committee came to the conclusion that to arrive at the actual number of hallucinations experienced by the persons questioned, the numbers given should be multiplied by at least 4, and possibly more.[7]

If we include only recognised and realistic apparitions of the human figure, and subtract all doubtful cases, all cases occurring before the age of ten, and all cases where the percipient had more than one similar experience, we find that we have 322 cases to deal with. Multiplied by 4, these amount to 1288, or in round numbers 1300. But of the 322 we find 62[8] coincided with a death—i. e., occurred within twelve hours, on one side or the other, of the death of the person represented. Now of the 62 death coincidences, 11 are reported as occurring in the previous ten years, and 51 before that date. So far from being forgotten, the hallucinations coinciding with death appear to be remembered too well. It is clear that as the experience recedes into the past the closeness of the coincidence is apt to be magnified, or the narrative in some other way unconsciously improved.[9] After making liberal allowance for this unconscious exaggeration, and for another disturbing cause—the possible influence of selection on the results,[10]—the probable number of death coincidences is reduced to 30.

We have then these 30 coincidences with death in 1300 apparitions. But the death rate for the last completed decade (1881–1890) of the period under review was 19.15—i. e., the probability that any person taken at random would die within any given 24 hours was 19.15 in 365,000 = about 1 in 19,000. If there is no causal connection between the hallucination and the death, we should find but I coincidence in 19,000—we actually find 1 in 43.

We may dismiss, then, the suggestion of explanation by chance coincidence. But it need hardly be said that we are not, therefore, entitled to claim that we have found an irrefragable proof of telepathy. The coincidences, it is true, did not occur by chance, if the facts have been correctly reported. But on the one hand, the frequency of non-coincidental hallucinations may be much greater, owing to the operation of forgetfulness, than the census would indicate; on the other hand, there may have been much more exaggeration in the coincidences than we have allowed for.

It is scarcely conceivable that any error in our estimate of the rate of forgetfulness should be sufficient to affect the conclusion to a material extent. To adopt the alternative explanation is to assume, not merely that our informants generally have been guilty of serious inaccuracies, but that the alleged "percipients," together with their friends who have furnished corroborative testimony, have given detailed reports of incidents which never took place, and that in some cases notes have been made in diaries supporting these fictitious reports. In other words, we have to suppose the occurrence of numerous hallucinations, not of sense but of memory, shared in many cases by several members of a household. Such an assumption is perhaps not inconceivable; but it involves violent improbabilities, and it can scarcely at present claim any external support. At any rate those who carefully weigh the evidence will, no doubt, agree that neither assumption will justify us, without further enquiry, in summarily dismissing the incidents reported.[11]

But even if a causal connection between the apparition and the death of the person represented is admitted, it is felt by some that the transition from the experimental cases of thought transference to these much more impressive spontaneous appearances is so violent as to render it doubtful whether both sets of phenomena can be referred to the same category. There are two main points in which the coincident hallucinations now under consideration differ from the mass of the experimental evidence: (1) the distance over which the force is assumed to operate is very much greater, (2) in the experimental cases it is the idea actively present to the agent—the image of the card or number—which intrudes into the consciousness of the percipient; but in these other cases the actual percept represents what can at most have occupied but a subordinate place in the thoughts of the presumed agent—to wit, his own personal appearance.

As regards the first point, it is true that in the experimental cases we have little evidence for the operation of telepathy even at a distance of a few miles; and that in most experiments it has been found difficult to secure success even when the two parties were in adjoining rooms. But, as shown in a preceding chapter, there are circumstances which, apart from any actual diminution in the telepathic energy, would militate against success when agent and percipient are no longer in the same room. And in most of the spontaneous cases, it must be remembered, the emotional energy liberated, on which the strength of the telepathic impulse seems to depend, must be immeasurably greater than in tedious experiments with cards and pictures. To a man whose experience of illumination was restricted to a rushlight it would appear incredible that the same familiar energy could cross the gulf which separates the earth from Sirius.

As regards the second point, the difference in the nature of the impression made upon the percipient's mind may probably throw some light on the mechanism of the transmission. In experimental cases we often meet with the transmission of a detailed scene. It is but rarely in the spontaneous cases—and then as a rule only in dreams or some state analogous to somnambulic clairvoyance—that we find details of the agent's actual appearance and surroundings accurately reflected in the percipient's mind. The apparition commonly consists simply of a figure, clothed as the percipient was accustomed to see the agent clothed; whereas to be true to life the phantasm would as a rule have to appear in bed. In cases where the vision gives no information as to the agent's clothing and surroundings generally—and, as already said, such cases form the great majority of the well attested narratives—we may suppose that what is transmitted is not any part of the superficial content of the agent's consciousness, but an impression from the underlying massive and permanent elements which represent his personal identity. The percipient's imagination is clearly competent to clothe such an impression with appropriate imagery, must indeed so clothe it if it is to rise into consciousness at all.

But fortunately we are not compelled to make the violent transition referred to; for some of the most remarkable hallucinations of which we have authentic records have been produced experimentally. Some instances of the kind were published in Phantasms of the Living. It was after reading the accounts there given that Mr. Clarence Godfrey, a friend of my own, determined to make a similar experiment on his own account. He wrote to me on the 16th November, 1886, as follows:

No. 28. From Mr. Clarence Godfrey[12]

I was so impressed by the account on p. 105 [of Phantasms of the Living, vol. i.] that I determined to put the matter to an experiment.

Retiring at 10.45 (on the 15th November, 1886), I determined to appear, if possible, to a friend, and accordingly I set myself to work with all the volitional and determinative energy which I possess to stand at the foot of her bed. I need not say that I never dropped the slightest hint beforehand as to my intention, such as could mar the experiment, nor had I mentioned the subject to her. As the "agent" I may describe my own experiences.

Undoubtedly the imaginative faculty was brought extensively into play, as well as the volitional, for I endeavoured to trample myself, spiritually, into her room, and to attract her attention, as it were, while standing there. My effort was sustained for perhaps eight minutes, after which I felt tired, and was soon asleep.

The next thing I was conscious of was meeting the lady next morning (i. e., in a dream, I suppose?), and asking her at once if she had seen me last night. The reply came, "Yes." "How?" I inquired. Then in words strangely clear and low, like a well audible whisper, came the answer, "I was sitting beside you." These words, so clear, awoke me instantly, and I felt I must have been dreaming; but on reflection I remembered what I had been "willing" before I fell asleep, and it struck me, "This must be a reflex action from the percipient."

My watch showed 3.40 a.m. The following is what I wrote immediately in pencil, standing in my night dress: "As I reflected upon those clear words, they struck me as being quite intuitive, I mean subjective, and to have proceeded from within, as my own conviction, rather than a communication from any one else. And yet I can't remember her face at all, as one can after a vivid dream."

But the words were uttered in a clear, quick tone, which was most remarkable, and awoke me at once.

My friend, in the note with which she sent me the enclosed account of leer own experience, says: "I remember the man put all the lamps out soon after I came upstairs, and that is only done about a quarter to four."

Mr. Godfrey received from the percipient on the 16th November an account of her side of the experience, and at his request she wrote as follows:

Yesterday—viz., the morning of November 16th, 1886— about half-past three o'clock, I woke up with a start and an idea that some one had come into the room. I heard a curious sound, but fancied it might be the birds in the ivy outside. Next I experienced a strange restless longing to leave the room and go downstairs. This feeling became so overpowering that at last I rose and lit a candle, and went down, thinking if I could get some soda-water it might have a quieting effect. On returning to my room I saw Mr. Godfrey standing under the large window on the staircase. He was dressed in his usual style, and with an expression on his face that I have noticed when he has been looking very earnestly at anything. He stood there, and I held up the candle and gazed at him for three or four seconds in utter amazement, and then, as I passed up the staircase, he disappeared. The impression left on my mind was so vivid that I fully intended waking a friend who occupied the same room as myself, but remembering that I should only be laughed at as romantic and imaginative, refrained from doing so.

I was not frightened at the appearance of Mr. Godfrey, but felt much excited, and could not sleep afterwards.

On the 21st of the same month I heard a full account of the incident given above from Mr. Godfrey, and on the day following from Mrs ———. Mrs. ——— told me that the figure appeared quite distinct and lifelike at first, though she could not remember to have noticed more than the upper part of the body. As she looked, it grew more and more shadowy, and finally faded away. Mrs. ———, it should be added, had previously seen two phantasmal figures representing a parent whom she had recently lost.[13]

Mr. Godfrey at our request made two other trials, without, of course, letting Mrs. ——— know his intention. The first of these attempts was without result, owing perhaps to the date chosen, as he was aware at the time, being unsuitable. But in a trial made on the 7th December, 1886, complete success was again attained. Mrs. ——— has had no visual hallucinations except on the occasions mentioned.

It will be noticed that the dress of the apparition represented that in which the percipient was accustomed to see Mr. Godfrey, not the dress which he was actually wearing at the time. If the image in these cases is in fact nothing but the outward expression of the percipient's thought, this result is of course what we should naturally expect to find.

The next case is remarkable because three persons in the house appear to have been affected by the agent's experiment. Mr. F. W. Rose had, he tells us, mesmerised Mrs. E., the percipient, on several occasions. Some time in 1891 or 1892 he endeavoured "to send his astral body" to Mrs. E. On the first attempt Mrs. E. spent a restless night and the maid was disturbed by hearing a bell ringing. Mr. Rose mentioned his attempt two or three days afterwards. On the second occasion—Mr. Rose had, of course, not intimated beforehand his intention of experimenting—Mrs. E. and her daughter Mrs. A. were both disturbed.

No. 29

Mrs. A., the daughter, writes[14]:

Feb. 5th, 1896.

I cannot remember the date; but one night two or three years ago, I came back from the theatre to my mother's flat at 6, S.-street; and after I had been into her bedroom and told her all about it, I went to bed about 1 a.m. I had not been asleep long when I started up frightened, fancying that I had heard some one walk down the passage towards my mother's room; but hearing nothing more went again to sleep. I started up alarmed in the same way three or four times before dawn. In the morning, upon inquiry, my mother (who was ill at the time) only told me she had had a very disturbed night.

Then I asked my brother, who told me that he had suffered in the same way as I had, starting up several times in a frightened manner. On hearing this, my mother then told me that she had seen an apparition of Mr. Rose.

Later in the day Mr. Rose came in, and my mother asked him casually if he had been doing anything last night; upon which he told us that he had gone to bed willing that he should visit and appear to us. We made him promise not to repeat the experiment.

A night or so just before, I remember the servant came into my mother's bedroom, alarmed, at 3 a.m.; she said she had heard the electric bell ring. The bell at that time of night is inaccessible to the casual passer-by, as the outer door is then closed. The servant, I believe, heard it more than once; she cried and fancied it was an omen of her mother's death.

Mrs. E., in narrating the incident of the electric bell, adds that she and Mrs. A. had both passed a restless and uncomfortable night on that occasion; and that on the Sunday following Mr. Rose happened to mention that he had tried on that day to "send his spook." Mrs. E. then continues:

Feb. 12th, 1896.

. . . Some weeks passed,[15] when I was struck down with a bad attack of influenza, and again my daughter came to nurse me.

I had quite recovered, but had not yet been out of my room. but was to go into the drawing-room next day. On this particular night, my daughter had gone to the theatre and my son remained with me. He had bid me good-night about half-past ten and gone to his room, and I lay reading, when suddenly a strange creepy sensation came over me, and I felt my eyes drawn towards the left hand side of the room. I felt I must look, and there distinct against the curtain was a blue luminous mist.

I could not for some time move my eyes away, and all the time I was really terrified, for I thought it was something uncanny. I wished to call my son, but fought down the feeling, knowing I should only upset him if he thought I was nervous, and possibly they would think I was going to be ill again. So I battled down my fears, and making up my mind it was all imagination, turned round with my back to this misty light and continued my book. Soon the feeling of fear passed away; but all desire for sleep had also gone, and for a long time I lay reading,—when again quite suddenly came the dread and the feeling of awe.

This time I was impelled to cast my eyes downward to the side of my bed, and there, creeping upwards towards me, was the same blue luminous mist. I was too terrified to move, and remember keeping my book straight up before my face as though to ward off a blow, at the same time exerting all my strength of will and determination not to be afraid,—when suddenly, as if with a jerk, above the top of my book came the brow and eyes of Mr. Rose. In an instant all fear left me. I dropped my book with an exclamation not complimentary, for then I knew that Mr. Rose had been trying the same thing again. In one moment mist and face were gone.

It is unfortunate that in this case no notes were made by either party, and that the date of the experience cannot now be fixed. But Mr. Rose has given us a concordant account, so that the coincidence is confirmed by the testimony of three witnesses.

In the case next to be quoted, we have accounts from both agent and percipient written before the result was known. The case, moreover, presents other features of interest. Miss Danvers and Mrs. Fleetwood (both names are fictitious) are ladies who were well known to the late Frederic Myers. He asked Miss Danvers to endeavour to appear to Mrs. Fleetwood without communicating her intention to that lady; On june 20, 1894, he received the following letter, dated 19th June, with two enclosures:

No. 30. From Miss Danvers[16]

"On Sunday night at 12 p.m., I tried to appear to Mrs. Fleetwood [at a distance of about nine miles] and succeeded in feeling as if I were really in her room. I had previously written my statement, which I enclose, together with Mrs. Fleetwood's, which she has just sent me. She wrote it also at the time, not knowing I was trying to appear. I was lying down, not kneeling, but the other details are correct."

A memorandum, signed by Miss Danvers, was enclosed, as follows: "June 17, 1894, 12 p.m. I write this just before trying to appear to Mrs. Fleetwood. My hair is down and I am going to lie down and try to appear with my eyes closed."

Also a memorandum, signed by Mrs. Fleetwood, as follows: "Sunday night, June 17, 1894.—I woke from my first sleep to see Edith Danvers apparently kneeling on an easy chair by my bedside, her profile turned towards me, her hair flowing, and eyes closed, or looking quite down. I felt startled at first, as I always do, on seeing visions in waking moments, but determined to keep quiet; and after I was fully awake and able to reason with myself, the figure still remained, and then gradually faded like a dissolving view. I got up and looked at the clock. It was just twelve. I was alone in the room. As I now write, it is about two minutes after twelve."

In conversation on June 2 3rd [Mr. Myers writes] Miss danvers told me that she had seen, in a sort of flash, Mrs. Fleetwood start up in bed, rest on her elbow, and look towards her. She had not been clearly aware of her own attitude in Mrs. Fleetwood's room, although she seemed aware of her position, which corresponded to the place towards which Mrs. Fleetwood gazed. Miss Danvers had never previously made notes of an experiment, and had not seen the importance of writing down this point at once, nor had she felt confident that Mrs. Fleetwood really saw her. Mrs. Fleetwood also sent me a letter of Miss Danvers to herself, dated June 18th, in which, among various other matters, Miss Danvers asks, "Have I appeared to you at all? I tried last night, but you may not have been alone." There is, of course, therefore, no proof that Miss Danvers's sense of invasion of the room was more than subjective.

In a later experiment Miss Danvers claims to have seen in Mrs. Fleetwood's room the third volume of Marcella, which she regards as a proof that she, on her side, acquired supernormal knowledge of Mrs. Fleetwood's surroundings. Mr. Godfrey also, it will be remembered, believed that he had received a reflex impression from the percipient. It is possible that in every case of telepathic action the influence is reciprocal. If it were so, the fact would in many cases necessarily escape observation; since in some of the most striking instances the agent was on his deathbed, or was passing through some other crisis, in the stress of which the comparatively feeble telepathic message would be likely to pass unregarded. There are, at any rate, very few well attested cases in which there is evidence, beyond the narrator's own belief to that effect, for a reciprocal affection. We have two cases, however, in which the narrator had an unusually vivid dream of being at home; in the first case unexplained footsteps were simultaneously heard in the house by five persons and recognised as resembling those of the dreamer. In the second case, the figure of the dreamer was actually seen and heard in the house.[17] In a third case the narrator awoke under the impression that she was a child again in the old home and called on her sister, "Jessie, Jessie."

The cry awoke her husband who testifies to the fact. That same night her sister—300 or 400 miles away—was awakened by hearing her name twice called in the sister's voice.[18] In another case the husband, absent from home on a journey, willed himself to his wife's bedside and seemed to himself to be standing there. His figure was actually seen at the time by his wife at her bedside.[19]

In none of these cases, as said, is there clear evidence of reciprocity; but they certainly indicate that one of the conditions of telepathic affection at a distance may be a clear realisation on the agent's part of the percipient's surroundings. In the following case a reciprocal hallucination was produced, but there was no recognition of the fact at the time by either percipient; nor was there any emotional disturbance or exceptional crisis to account for the coincidence. The occurrence was investigated by Mr. A. W. Orr of Didsbury, who enclosed the two following accounts on July 26, 1905.

No. 31. From Mrs. Ellen Green[20]

I had been staying at the house of Mr. Ward, a retired Master in the Mercantile Marine, who resides at Northwood House, Llanishen, near Cardiff, and on Tuesday, June 20th [1905], he drove me over to Whitchurch (about two miles from Llanishen) where I was to spend a couple of days with friends, Mr. and Mrs. Berwick. He left me there at about eleven o'clock in the forenoon and returned to his home. On the following afternoon at about half-past three I was sitting alone in the drawing-room, Mrs. Berwick being in her own room, and, on happening to look up, I saw Mr. Ward standing at the bay window and looking in at me as though he desired to speak to me. He was in his usual dress, and is not a man to be easily mistaken for any one else. Thinking he had brought some letters for me, I rose hastily and went towards the window calling to him and waving my hand to him, partly in greeting and partly as a sign for him to go to the hall door, but when I reached the window I was surprised not to see him. I concluded, however, that he must have gone to the door without my noticing and so I hurried to the door to let him in. I was exceedingly surprised and alarmed when I opened the hall door to see nobody there, nor anywhere about the house. Later when Mrs. Berwick came down I told her—and also Mr. Berwick—of my experience, and like myself they felt extremely anxious lest some harm had happened to Mr. Ward, for whom we all felt a strong regard.

Mr. and Mrs. Berwick, with whom Mrs. Green was staying, append their signatures, as confirming the accuracy of the account.

Captain Ward's account of his side of the experience is as follows:

Northwood, Birchgrove, Cardiff,
2nd August. 1905.

I have pleasure in reply to your letter to give you here the facts of the incident as it actually happened. On the 20th June last I drove Mrs. Green in my pony trap to Mr. Berwick's house in Whitchurch, Cardiff, and on returning home to above address, met with an accident, being thrown out of my trap backwards, hurting my neck and ankle. On the following day the 21st inst. I was unable to leave the house, and lay on the sofa in my dining-room, when between the hours of 3 and 4 p.m. I distinctly heard Mrs. Green's voice outside the front door calling me. I managed to rise from the couch and look out through the window to call her in, but found no person there; the time would exactly agree with that when Mrs. Green saw my form at Whitchurch.

This I found out on speaking to Mrs. Green on Thursday the 22d inst. I had not seen her between the 20th and 22nd. The above are the facts of the case.

Frederick Ward.

Mrs. Green, it should be added, is a trance speaker on Spiritualist platforms and a natural clairvoyant, who has had other remarkable experiences of the kind. The accounts, it will be seen, were written down within a few weeks of the occurrences described; and indeed the curiously inconclusive character of the coincidence affords in itself some indication that the narrative has not been unconsciously improved.

Other instances of possibly reciprocal affection will be found in Phantasms of the Living, vol. ii., chapter xiv.; and in Apparitions and Thought Transference, p. 299.

In publishing some cases of the type in 1886 Mr. Gurney pointed out that the evidence then available was "so small that the genuineness of the type might fairly be called in question".[21] And the twenty-two years which have elapsed cannot be said to have added material confirmation.


  1. More accurately, to adopt Edmund Gurney's definition, a hallucination is "a percept which lacks, but can only by distinct reflection be recognised as lacking, the objective basis which it suggests."
  2. Proceedings, S. P. R.,vol.v.. pp. 11–13. The girl had no recollection in the waking state of the suggestion given in the trance, and was much astonished and a little frightened at the apparition which came down the kitchen stairs. She went at once to tell her mistress.
  3. The question was worded as follows: "Have you ever, when believing yourself to be completely awake, had a vivid impression of seeing. or being touched by, a living being or inanimate object, or of hearing a voice; which impression, so far as you could discover, was not due to any external physical cause?"

    It should be added that the greatest care was taken to ensure the accuracy and representative character of the answers. The collectors, who all gave their services gratuitously. numbered 410: they included, besides members of the Society for Psychical Research, many medical men, trained psychologists, teachers, and others. Nine tenths of them were educated up to the standard of the professional classes, and all were carefully instructed in their duties. Answers were obtained on schedules printed for the purpose in batches of 25, and it was a special instruction that no selection of answers should be made, but that all answers, whether Ye: or No, should be regarded as of equal importance. The work was of necessity somewhat tedious, and the whole enquiry, as said, extended over about four years. But the results are believed to be as nearly accurate as any extensive enquiry of the kind could furnish. That apart from the influence of forgetfulness, discussed in the text. the results were not entirely accurate is indicated by the fact that the census papers handed in by members of the Society for Psychical Research committee and by medical men and psychologists showed a distinctly higher proportion of affirmative answers, viz.: 9% from men, and 17.1% from women, or 12.8 for both sexes. This probably indicates that the expert questioner gave rather more time to the enquiry, and exacted from the persons questioned a more searching interrogation of their memory. As a contrast with the method pursued by our committee, it may be mentioned that the French astronomer, M. Flammarion, inserted a similar question in several Parisian papers. asking readers in the event of their having had no such impressions, to reply to him on a post-card. In the event he received 2456 negative and 1824 affirmative answers; of the latter over 901 were coincidental. On the figures so obtained M. Flammarion thinks himself justified in arguing as follows:

    "If these things were hallucinations, illusions, freaks of the imagination, the number of those not coinciding with a death would be considerably greater than the number which do so coincide. Now we find the contrary has been the case. My enquiry proves it to demonstration. I asked my readers to be good enough to send me all cases, whether coincidental or not. [Of the cases sent] there were not more than seven or eight per cent, of apparitions without coincidences. Precisely the reverse ought to have been the case if we were dealing with hallucinations" (L'Inconnu, et les problèmes psychiques, p. 222).

  4. About 300 cases in which the details of the experience were given only at second-hand are excluded from this total.
  5. Proceedings, S. P. R. Vol. x., p. 45.
  6. The question "Were you in good health?" was asked of all those who replied "Yes" to the census enquiry. It appears that of the hallucinations included in the census ill-health was present in 123 cases. or between 7 and 8 per cent. But the ill-health was in most cases of a quite minor character—"nervous and dyspeptic" or "a little below par" being typical descriptions. The hallucinations dealt with are, therefore. not due in the majority of cases to ill-health. Nor are they due. in most cases, to emotional disturbances: grief. anxiety, depression, etc., are recorded as being present in only 220 cases out of the 1622—or between 13 and 14 per cent.

    It should be added that these hallucinations of the sane present marked differences from the hallucinations observed to be associated with discue or insanity. The census hallucinations are mostly isolated and trivial experiences; they carry with them. as a rule, no feeling of terror or disgust; and in their realistic appearance and other details they differ markedly from hallucinations associated with, e. g. visceral diseases. (See the Goulstonlan Lectures for 1901, by Henry Head, M. D., and Mr. Piddington's review, Proceedings, S. P. R., vol. xix.. p. 267.)

  7. For details of the estimate see Proceedings, S. P. R.. vol. 1., pp. 62–9.
  8. Actually 65, but three of the cases are strongly suspected of having been "imported" into the census—i. e., the persons who collected the answers in these three cases knew of the vision beforehand, and it is believed that but for this knowledge they would not have questioned these particular persons. These cases are therefore excluded from the calculation.
  9. The average age of the narrators of death coincidences is 46 (that of our informants generally being only 40), so that as experiences under 10 years of age are excluded. there are 26 years included in the remoter period. If 11 experiences occur in to years. we should look for 29 at most in the remaining 26 years—we find 51!
  10. The non-coincidental hallucinations, which are much less interesting, would probably not be known beforehand to the collector: and even if they were, the collector would not be likely to go out of his way to collect such an account. Further, apparitions at the time of death are naturally more talked about, the collectors would probably know of some such amongst their acquaintance, and unless, in recording the answers, they systematically canvassed the whole of the neighbourhood accessible to them, it is almost certain that they would yield to the temptation to "bag" a death coincidence. even though it did not, properly speaking. come within their ground. See Proceedings, S. P. R., vol. x.. pp. 210 and 243.
  11. For full details of the estimates cited in the text, the reader is referred to the "Report of the Census Committee," Proceedings, S. P. R., vol. x., pp. 207–251.
  12. Studies in Physical Research, by F. Podmore, pp. 249–252.
  13. These details are taken from notes made by me immediately after the interview.
  14. Journal, S. P. R., May, 1896.
  15. Mrs. A., who has just read this. seems to think now that the two occurrences were separated by some weeks, not days as she wrote in her statement (Note by collector).
  16. Proceedings, S. P. R., vol. x., p. 418.
  17. Journal, S. P. R., December, 1898.
  18. Ibid, June, 1895.
  19. Ibid
  20. Journal, S. P. R., February, 1906.
  21. Phantasams, vol. ii, p. 167.