DUKE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY FRIENDS OF DUKE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY GIFT OF Dr. J. R. Rhine DO THE DEAD DEPART ? a Demy 8vo, 7s. 6d. net PROOFS OF LIFE AFTER DEATH . By R. J. Thompson. A Collation of Opinions as to a Future Life by the Most Eminent Scientific Men and Thinkers of the Day. A Collation of Opinions as to a Future Life by such Eminent Scientific Men and Thinkers as Prof. N. S. Shaler, Prof. C. Richet, Camille Flammarion, Prof. Brunot, Sir William Crookes, Prof. Th. Flournoy, Prof. Elmer Gates, Prof. William James, Dr Paul Joire, Dr Lombroso, Prof. S. Newcomb, Prof. Hyslop, Dr M. J. Savage, Sir Oliver Lodge, Prof. Alfred Russel Wallace, Cardinal Gibbons, Andrew Lang, and many others. The book contains many argu¬ ments from a scientific standpoint that will interest all who wish evidence other than theological. DO THE DEAD DEPART? aAnd Other Questions BY E. KATHARINE BATES Author of “Seen and Unseen,” Etc. LONDON T. WERNER LAURIE CLIFFORD’S INN E.C. Dedication TO THE MEMORY OF RICHARD HODGSON, LL.D. h33,?3 &3ZJ2 CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE I. Some Objections to Spirit Return i II. Some Instances of Spirit Return . 15 III. A Mother’s Guardianship in America 32 IV. A Curious Illustration of Spirit Methods ...... 53 V. Biblical Incidents . . . . 75 VI. Clairvoyance.92 VII. Clairaudience . . . . .113 VIII. Reincarnation. 127 IX. Automatic Writing . . . .144 X. Materialisation.165 XI. How the Dead Depart . . . 192 XII. Guardian Children . . . 211 Appendix ...... 238 v Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2018 with funding from Duke University Libraries https://archive.org/details/dodeaddepart01bate PREFACE This book is not evidential. That is not its aim. There is already a flood of literature on these sub¬ jects, written by experts for experts. After twenty-five years of constant study and investigation and of meeting other psychic students in every quarter of the globe, I suppose I may con¬ sider myself somewhat of an expert? When writing Seen and Unseen it occurred to me : Why should not someone, who has a little knowledge in these matters, write a simple book for the general public, telling frankly and accur¬ ately a few simple personal experiences, without technical dissertations upon the theories connected with such experiences? It is difficult for some of us to realise that a story may be told quite accurately, and yet, not from the purely evidential point of view. The latter, of necessity, involves a mass of small details, very wearisome for the ordinary reader, and in many cases of no essential importance to the narrative; but not one of which can be omitted in an ex¬ haustive evidential report. In spite of the very genial and kindly reception given to my last book, some of my reviewers have missed this point. They have lamented the absence of “ evidence ” in Seen and Unseen , not realising that the presence of “evidence” would have entailed page upon page of wearisome repetitions ; weari¬ some, I mean, of course, to those who have not yet begun to take a scientific interest in psychic matters. It is to these people that both my books are primarily addressed. vii PREFACE I wanted to talk to them through my writing, just as I should have talked to them in real life, had we met, and had they said to me, “ Now do tell me, as a sensible woman, what first attracted your attention to these questions ? Have you had any personal experience, apart from professional mediums, etc., etc.?” Some kind friends, on both sides of the Veil, have deeply regretted my writing in a style “so far below my capacity and brain power.” But it seems to me that our only justification for writing at all in these over-burdened days, is the fact that we have some¬ thing to say to somebody. It is not a question of trying to impress people with the amount or quality of one’s brain power (every one has brains nowa¬ days !) but of getting them to listen to what one says. And in psychic matters, at any rate,it has been made very plain to me that so far as I am concerned, the public prefers a genial chat to a more elaborate presentation of my views and experiences. The late Dr Alfred Williams Momerie (one of our most brilliant Cambridge scholars and at one time an intimate friend of mine) often said to me, “ Always remember that it is extremely easy to make simple things complicated, and extremely difficult to tnake complicated things appear easy .” All those who know his books or remember his lectures,will admit that he gaveabrilliant exampleof how the latter difficulty could be met and overcome. So I have written the present little book on much the same lines as the last, so far as that is compat¬ ible with the difference of subject matter. I shall be more than satisfied if it receive as kind and genial a welcome as that which greeted my Psychic Reminiscences. E. Katharine Bates. viii DO THE DEAD DEPART? (AND OTHER QUESTIONS) CHAPTER I SOME OBJECTIONS TO SPIRIT RETURN A few months ago, I published with Messrs Greening a little book entitled Seen and Un¬ seen, in which I related as simply as possible some of the events in my life which dis¬ tinctly suggest a supernormal cause. I say supernormal advisedly, for I think we have all learnt by this time that nothing which happens can possibly be supernatural. That would be a contradiction in terms. Any event of which the immediate cause does not at present enter into the ordinary racial know¬ ledge must of necessity be supernormal. It is equally certain that it cannot be super¬ natural. It has been suggested that I should write a second book, dealing with similar experiences but more specially touching upon the question, A I DO THE DEAD DEPART? “ Do the dead return?” Were I criticis¬ ing this title instead of writing upon it I should be inclined to put the• query, “Do the so-called dead return ? ” for there is a finality about the word dead which at once prejudges the case. How can the dead return or do anything else involving movement and action ? It is the living who return. It is the living who depart, for that matter. How can a dead man depart or return ? We hear a great deal about the worthlessness of words. It often seems to me that the worth and the power of words are incalculable and almost infinite. How many delusions have been generated and built up and have flourished for centuries, owing to a loose or incorrect use of words ? Both science and theology have curious records and strange tales to tell us on this subject. A whole creed may rest upon so frail a foundation as the omission or addition of a tiny word of three letters : such a word as “ not,” for example. Again, the whole structure of the doctrine of the resurrection of our present flesh bodies, devoutly believed in for centuries and still held fervently by many good people, has rested upon the text, SPIRIT RETURN “ Yet in my flesh shall I see God.” But the revised version of the Bible translates this text, “Yet from my flesh shall I see God,” and the marginal note to this gives “without” as an equivalent for “from,” thus making the sense of the whole sentence the exact antithesis of that which we have been hitherto taught. “ Yet in my flesh shall I see God ” thus becomes, “Yet with¬ out my flesh shall I see God.” Who can say that words are of little value when one short word can thus create or destroy the whole doctrine of a resurrection of the flesh ? So much for the worthlessness of words ! Now when people talk of a dead man they are really using words in a contradictory sense, no matter how firmly custom and tradition may have justified them in doing so. A body can die but a man cannot die, although I suppose we all talk about dead men occasionally, just as we all talk about a rising and setting sun when we really know that we mean the exact contrary of what we say. An absolutely convinced and absolutely logical materialist—if such a being really 3 DO THE DEAD DEPART? exist—may say, “ But I entirely deny your premiss. I maintain that a man can die, because I deny the existence in him of any¬ thing beyond perishable material which dies as man and can only endure through trans¬ mutation into other forms of matter.” Such a materialist has perfect liberty to make such an assertion ; but it is assertion pur et simple , and the presumption of evidence is against him ; enormously and increasingly against him as the years go on and meta¬ psychics begin to take their due place as a subject for scientific investigation. It may however be well to clear the ground at once by saying that this book is not addressed to that mythical and expiring dodo—the thorough-paced materialist. He is quite as rare nowadays as the historical dead Donkey that nobody ever saw. Assuming, therefore, that no one is likely to read this little book who is not prepared to admit that man is a spirit, however little we may comprehend the exact nature of spirit, and has a body, we can go on to the next point. Speaking just now of the enormousinfluence of words—rightly or wrongly used—reminds 4 SPIRIT RETURN me of Shakespeare’s dogmatic and most unfor¬ tunate assertion as regards the “ bourne from which no traveller returns.” It is unnecessary to point out how he contradicts his own words again and again in his plays by describing, as well as suggesting, visitors from that distant bourne. In spite of this, his words have been quoted ad nauseam by all those who deprecate such visits and object to such visitors, and we are continually reminded that our greatest poet and philo¬ sopher demonstrated the impossibility of any intercourse between the living and the so-called dead ; whilst in the same breath they will point out as a further clinching of the argument, that “ Holy Writ” specially deprecates the attempt to establish such in¬ tercourse. Oh, blessed inconsistency ! Why should the writers of the Bible forbid and denounce a practice that is impossible ? And why again, should those who quote Shake¬ speare’s well-worn words as proof of the impossibility of the practice quote Scripture at the same moment as proof of its wicked¬ ness ? Why? Simply because human nature is inconsistent ab initio , and never so incon- 5 DO THE DEAD DEPART? sistent as when it is led by strong prejudice either to condemn or to approve. I think any intelligent observer must be struck by the fact that taking Humanity (as it now stands) as a whole, there is both un¬ doubted indifference to, and most undoubted fear of, any possible intercourse between our present sphere and that which we believe will follow it. No doubt this is partly theological— especially the fear. To acknowledge that our departed friends not only can but do return to us—(I would rather say that they have never wholly left us)—here and now, is a complete bouleverse- ment of Orthodox Theology—by which latter I mean theology, not even as it has been presented in the Bible, but as it has been interpreted to us from the Bible, by our various Churches or teachers. I remember once in America having a deeply interesting talk with Dr Phillipps Brooks of Boston, in connection with a letter I had written to him. When we met to discuss the latter, my first words were, “ I am afraid, Dr Brooks, you will have thought my letter rather unorthodox ? ” I have 6 SPIRIT RETURN never forgotten his look of genuine surprise as he answered quietly, “ Such an idea never crossed my mind. I was deeply interested in your letter—I never thought about its being orthodox or unorthodox. In fact, I don’t quite know how people define those words. Nor do I think I have much respect for orthodoxy unless it means the truth.” How characteristic these courageous words are, read in the light of his own broad grasp of truth and impatience of those who would place stumbling-blocks in the way of its attainment! “ I asked for bread and you gave me a stone.” I asked for Truth and you gave me—Orthodoxy. How many of us can say this in bitterness and loneliness of heart and spirit! It was this great preacher’s passionate love of Christ and love of Truth and hatred of all that tends to diversion and separation that gave him his marvellous influence over not only his country but his century, in all truly religious thought. But for us smaller souls who have not yet reached these heights, the theological measuring tape is ever at hand and we are desperately afraid, some of 7 DO THE DEAD DEPART? us, of being the eighth of an inch out in our theological calculations. Also I think we are naturally more eager to put our neigh¬ bours, than ourselves, through what may be termed the theological yard measure. People have said to me again and again, “ But how can you reconcile ” (oh, how I hate that word “reconcile” by this time!) “the statements of the Bible about the blessed dead awaiting the last Trump and the final Resurrection with your idea that your dead friends can be with you and talk to you and give you messages and so forth? ” I don’t attempt to reconcile anything—I can only speak of those things which have come to me as facts. There are so many apparently con¬ tradictory statements in the Bible that nobody can reconcile at present, if he be quite honest. I am willing to believe that we may mis¬ understand many of these statements owing to our own spiritual limitations. I am forced to believe that mistranslation may account for other discrepancies. But a long experience has convinced me personally that the Bible contains all that is necessary for our spiritualevolutionand education, and common- sense has convinced me that no truth on any 8 SPIRIT RETURN plane can be in real conflict with Bible statements where such statements convey spiritual facts. All real facts must harmonise, although our present ignorance may not permit us to put the various blocks together and make a perfect map of the whole pro¬ cesses of the universe. Is it not unthinkable that we should be able to do this under the circumstances of our present existence ? To be quite honest, we must admit that modern theology is not nearly so comfortable as were the generally-accepted religious ideas of thirty or forty years ago. In those days people were divided into two camps as a rule, i.e. the “ wholly-worldly,” who declined to trouble themselves about the future at all, boldly declaring the “one world at a time” theory as their rule in life, and the “ worldly- holy,” by which I mean those anxious to make the best of both worlds and to pay a sort of Fire Insurance by attending to their religious duties for some part at least of one day in seven. To these latter it is obvious that no scheme of salvation could be more convenient than one which put belief above character, and in fact rather deprecated any 9 DO THE DEAD DEPART? special development of the latter on any other lines, save those of a narrow theology, as tending to self-righteousness. To ignore the painful and strenuous education of life in building up character (a process seemingly as slow as that of forming corals beneath the sea), would naturally appeal to the second camp of which I speak. So also would the doctrine of instant salvation through an act of belief, and of a clean slate from which all the consequences of our errors and sins are rubbed out by that mysterious process called the Grace of God. Far be it from me to say one irreverent word as regards the latter, which is a blessed fact, known to so many of us, thank God ! The mistake has been in confusing absolu¬ tion from sin with absolution from the consequences of sin—a totally different matter. The latter is a question of law, and so far as we have any experience, God never acts in contradiction to His laws. When such appears to be the case, we may be quite sure that some unknown factor has been left out in our calculation and that the apparent inconsistency lies in this unknown quantity, through which the law is acting, and not in IO SPIRIT RETURN any difference in the working of that law. Now I think if there is one thing which the experience of life teaches each one of us more definitely than anything else, it is the fact that as we sow so we must reap, and that for every action of our lives, good or bad, we shall receive payment or some day be called upon to make it. There can be no doubt that the sowing may have been done for us to some extent, greater or less, as the case may be. In old days this seemed a terrible “ injustice,” but now that science, as well as progressive theology are teaching us some¬ thing of the cosmic consciousness and the solidarity and unity of life, a gleam of light has come to us. This is an illustration of what I said before. Injustice and inconsistency are not inherent in any law of God. Where they appear so, be very sure there is an unknown factor— an x which must be added to all our calcula¬ tions and which one day will have the Divine sign = added to it. Still the old ideas die slowly and die hard. People are wary enough to see that if they accept the pleasant trend of the new ideas they will be bound to accept the unpleasant trend also, and most of them DO THE DEAD DEPART? (I am speaking now of the “ religious world/’ as it is called) prefer to leave well alone, to go on in the beaten tracks and to refuse the satis¬ faction of intercourse with their departed friends and relations, rather than open the door to some very inconvenient facts, which are bound to follow. Some years ago, when staying at Cairo, Lady Dunmore and I paid a visit to a very old friend of mine, who had lived there for many years and held a high official position in the Government Finance Department. His wife was dead and his only daughter married, and I think Lady Dunmore’s kindly idea was that we might together persuade him to look into psychic matters and thus bring some consolation into a lonely life by his getting into touch perhaps with those who had gone on. But this was not his view of consolation at all. He hastened to assure us that there was nothing he should dislike more ! “ It seems to me a horrible idea,” he said quite frankly, “ that those we loved here should know what we are doing and thinking about, now that they have left us! I am sure it would make them most un¬ happy,” he continued. “And you rather 12 SPIRIT RETURN uncomfortable was my mental note at the time. There was something almost pathetic in his eager disclaimer of any such hope or wish. I am sure there are many hundreds, nay, thousands, who feel just the same, although they might not put it so frankly. When I first realised the constant presence of friends in the Unseen as a matter of absolute conviction, 1 can remember feeling distinctly uncomfortable. It gave me at first a feeling of being overlooked, of never being alone and so forth. But as the months and years passed and some feeble idea of the cosmic consciousness awoke, this trivial self- consciousness as regards that special question passed away for ever. In the larger con¬ sciousness, believe me, there is no room for small, self-conscious doubts and fears of this kind. And as regards the more serious question of our sins and shortcomings, surely Tennyson has once for all answered this, in his exquisite verses. “Shall he for whose applause I strove, I had such reverence for his blame, See with clear eye some hidden shame, And I be lessened in his love ? 13 DO THE DEAD DEPART? I wrong the grave with fears untrue ; Shall Love be blamed for want of faith ? There must be wisdom with great death ; The dead shall look me through and through. Be near us when we climb or fall; Ye watch, like God, the rolling hours, With larger, other eyes than ours, To make allowance for us all.” 14 CHAPTER II SOME INSTANCES OF SPIRIT RETURN I have always felt very strongly that nothing but personal experience can really help us in deciding the momentous question, “ Do our dead return ? ” Our friends may tell us of their experiences and still more fre¬ quently of the experiences of their friends ; we may read dozens of books full of the most circumstantial and well-attested evi¬ dence ; we may hear the most convincing testimony to an affirmative answer to our question ; and yet in the end to what does it all amount ? Absolute conviction over¬ night has become absolute incredulity by the morning. I have seen this again and again and must even confess to personal experience of this undeniable fact. Something happens, so abnormal and yet so absolutely convincing to our bodily senses of sight and hearing, that we feel at the moment, “Well, this 15 DO THE DEAD DEPART? settles matters once for all. There is no question of professional mediumship here. That which has happened has come about quite spontaneously. I am in full possession of my faculties and am neither dreaming nor romancing. So far as this fact is con¬ cerned I can never again entertain a doubt.” My dear friend ! probably by next morn¬ ing—certainly by next week or next month or at latest next year—you will be full of doubts not only as to what really happened, but even more as to your own powers of critical judgment. This is true even where purely physical phenomena are in question. Some years ago, when staying on a large sheep station in Queensland, Australia, with a son of the late Sir Arthur Hodgson, who had married an old acquaintance of mine, I witnessed a curious illustration of this point. Two Englishmen, friends of my hosts, from distant stations, had arrived one even¬ ing unexpectedly, in the charming Colonial fashion, and were to be hospitably enter¬ tained for a day or two. My host and hostess were extremely anxious that I should consent to a little 16 SPIRIT RETURN “sitting” on the evening of their guests’ arrival, and very unwillingly I felt obliged to fall in with this suggestion. To begin with, however, I made all four solemnly give me their word of honour that no trickery should take place and that if nothing happened I should not be reproached ; whereas, if anything not to be explained except by trickery, should occur, they would at least be willing to bear testimony to the facts. Under these conditions only, I con¬ sented to sit at the table with them, it being distinctly understood that each one separ¬ ately had given me his or her word of honour that he or she would be entirely passive and willing to receive what came. Some extremely unpleasant things came, as a matter of fact. The conditions were far from ideal. The two visitors were perfect strangers to me and knew nothing of psychic matters ; my host and hostess were in an equally elementary stage, and therefore mentally there was no sort of harmony. Physically, however, there must have been a great deal of latent energy. There was full light upon the proceedings all the time and, apart from the solemn u 17 DO THE DEAD DEPART? promise given, 1 could see that no normal force was being used. Yet the table rose several inches from the ground, whilst the three men and we two women had our hands upon it in full view and in a way which would naturally have prevented its rising, had not a stronger force been acting in the contrary direction. Later, this power, whether intelligent or unintelligent, was at least extremely destructive. This special “ station” was very charm¬ ingly furnished, more like a London drawing¬ room than an Australian sheep farm ; the table was beautifully inlaid with woods and several of the chairs used were also inlaid, with porcelain designs. When the sitting was over, the table was broken and two at least of the chairs were smashed and the pretty porcelain designs hopelessly wrecked. Our visitors were well-born and well-bred Englishmen and would scarcely have wished to ruin the property of their host and hostess. Certainly the latter would not have yearned to break up their own furniture, in a part of the world where such things are not easily replaced ! That night at least, there was no question 18 SPIRIT RETURN of some extraneous force being present and all the men agreed that they could not suggest any reasonable explanation. At the breakfast-table next morning every one of them had practically retracted his confession of faith ! Night had brought, not counsel, but false shame. The old tradition of the normal, in which they had lived for years, proved too strong for their judgment upon this abnormal experience. When taxed with the facts of the broken chairs and table they indignantly refuted my satirical suggestion that they must have broken them in some occult manner, under our very eyes, in full light, without detection ! But they appeared to have forgotten all their remarks of the previous evening. They had slept over it, the pendulum of “the familiar” had swung back into place, dislodging the consciousness of something abnormal and inexplicable, and it was useless to remind them of their solemn vow that if anything happened to baffle ordinary ex¬ planations they should admit the fact. They had admitted it overnight but re¬ canted their confession within twelve hours, 19 DO THE DEAD DEPART? although absolutely incapable of suggesting any normal explanation. This is only a specimen of what is con¬ tinually occurring. It is quite natural that it should do so, but it shows the uselessness of any phenomenal marvels with a view to shaking materialistic convictions in the ordinary observer and the ordinary sceptic. This is why I do not propose to add to the innumerable cases which are at hand on every side, testifying to the continued existence of our so-called dead. The most telling “case” of another person’s experience does not “ begin to compare” with the smallest experience of your own. An ounce of personal experience is worth pounds of other people’s evidence when related by them, and tons of other people’s evidence when printed and not spoken. It is not by breaking an extra chair or table, nor by the exceptional and very occasional experience of a vision or a dream that we shall gain conviction. It is by the daily and hourly consciousness of the presence of our unseen friends—by their kindly help and loving warnings and by the constant proofs they give us of a 20 SPIRIT RETURN watchful companionship and an untiring love. And this must come to each one of us in¬ dividually. We cannot hand over our own experience to another. We can only tell him what has happened to us and suggest that there is no reason in the world, except his own attitude of mind , to prevent his having a similar experience. Developed clairaudience and developed clairvoyance may be indeed, and probably are, to a great extent the result of heredity, the inheritance left us perchance by previous experiences. But I believe that in every human being lies the germ of these higher senses and that if we would only take some simple measures to develop these germs under favourable conditions, we should be astounded by the results obtained. Professor Pritchard (Savilian Professor of Astronomy in Oxford, and one of the most successful and celebrated educationalists of the last century) said to me once, “ No human being of common intelligence comes into this world, who is incapable of drawing to some extent—of reproducing what he sees. I am convinced of this through ex- DO THE DEAD DEPART? perience and have never known it fail.” Yet the professor would have been the first to admit that every boy is not a budding Turner nor an undeveloped Raphael. I am equally sure that the same truth holds good as regards psychic matters. Love is the great Developer here as else¬ where, and if we don’t succeed in getting into touch with our “lost” friends and relations, I do not for one moment believe it is from lack of capacity ; but either from lack of true purpose and incentive or from the presence (even unconsciously to our¬ selves) of some deterring influence, due to prejudice or tradition. Again, we are apt not to be sufficiently simple in our methods — we think some great step is necessary, some washing in Abana or Pharphar. We must go to this or that medium, “having no power ourselves.” And we go, not feeling quite sure that it is right to do so. Perhaps we are met by incompetence or by that which appears to us an attempt at “ fishing,” or even fraud. Old investigators know well that the same medium who succeeds in one case will make an abject failure in the next. Why? simply 22 SPIRIT RETURN because there are mental laws as well as physical ones and some mental affinity must be established between sitter and medium, just as there must be sending and receiving stations established for wireless telegraphy. When one says this, people are apt to answer, “ Ah, yes! that proves that it is merely a question of telepathic transference from the mind of the sitter to the mind of the medium,” and they look greatly pleased by their own intelligent and final, if some¬ what vague, assertion. You might just as well say that the neces¬ sity for receiving and despatching “ stations,” in wireless telegraphy and for the vibrations being tuned to the same pitch, proves that there is no sender of the message. It is doubtless true that the difficulties of discri¬ mination and transmission are greater, where the telegraphic lines to be used are human and not material and vibratory. But these difficulties exist to be overcome , not to be shunted by a slipshod and unscientific dictum that it is “ mere telepathy between sitter and medium,” and therefore not worthy of investigation. This lazy assertion is at once challenged and denied in the fairly 23 DO THE DEAD DEPART? numerous cases, where facts, neither in the conscious nor unconscious mind of the sitter (unless he be omniscient! ) have been truth¬ fully conveyed to the inquirer. But why not be independent of all such assistance ? It may be a longer road but it will be more satisfactory in the end. The river Jordan is always at our doors. Why not learn to be our own mediums ? It is not impossible but it does call for more perseverance and concentration of pur¬ pose than most of us are willing to give or perhaps think ourselves capable of giving. Love is the great developer and Love is the great teacher. We are capable, if we are willing to submit to that teaching, and to be simple and persevering and receptive. When people come to me sometimes in deep distress and loneliness of heart and say, “ Do help me ; won’t you get a message for me from my husband or child or mother?” my answer is always the same and much on these lines— “ I am so sorry I cannot help you in the way you wish. I am not a test medium.” (Here I explain why it is not well to force this type of mediumship.) “ I only take what 24 SPIRIT RETURN comes to me spontaneously. You are a stranger to me yourself and if I attempted to get in touch with another perfect stranger, your husband or child, I should probably receive something untrue and possibly the result of my own mental activity. Far better try for yourself and infinitely more satisfactory to you. Give up a few minutes every day when you are quite peaceful and quite alone, to concentrate your mind on the one you wish to speak to. Think of him or her as simply as possible ; not as a far-away, mysterious spirit, divided from you by illimitable space, but as your very own child or mother or wife or husband as the case may be. “ Call them by name, by any pet name you used to use. Speak to them as if they were close to you, as I fully believe they are. If this concentration of thought is earnest and real you had better not try it for more than ten minutes at first. We are not accustomed to absolute concentration where every extra¬ neous thought is banished and at first we shall feel tired by the effort to keep the channel absolutely clear. But in time I feel quite sure, if yon persevere and do not lose 25 DO THE DEAD DEPART? heart , some realisation of the presence of the beloved one will come to you, so undeniable and so convincing to your own conscious¬ ness that a whole college of philosophers or scientists will not be able to persuade you that the one you loved and lost was not in close touch with you. There will be a feel¬ ing of personal identity in time, impossible to describe, still more impossible to deny. For Love is the great Revealer and you will know that His testimony is true.” In some such words I have again and again answered some such inquiry. Per¬ sonally I have never found the advice to fail. In one case (already published under the pseudonym of Mrs Forbes) the mother of a dearly-loved and only son took my suggestion literally and acted upon it, and within ten days wrote to tell me of her great surprise and great joy to find that after some days of apparent uselessness, the dailv sitting had been crowned with success. “ It is almost too wonderful to believe and yet I know that it is true. My boy is with me every day now and I can talk to him quite easily .” This was the testimony of a woman of certainly marked intelligence, who had spent 26 SPIRIT RETURN her whole married life in legal circles and was not likely to be ignorant of the rules of evidence nor to be over credulous. Similar statements have come to me from other quarters, where I have recommended this very simple and certainly perfectly harm¬ less step. There are cases of course where, after a long period of suffering or a busy and stren¬ uous life, it is necessary that the spirit freed from earth conditions should have absolute rest. In these cases we must not be dis¬ appointed or doubting, if our communion is delayed. Should such be the case, we can still set that short time sacredly apart, to be spent in loving sympathy with them, rejoic¬ ing in their freedom from care and pain and in their well-earned and much-needed rest. It is impossible for us to know beforehand which spirits will be active and anxious to make themselves recognised by us and which ones will be appointed to rest for longer or shorter periods. The facts do not always tally with our own notions of probability and expediency. A marked instance of this came lately within my personal experience. 27 DO THE DEAD DEPART? In September 1906 a dearly-loved brother was taken from my physical consciousness. He had had a brilliant and strenuous military career for over twenty years, and for nearly thirty years later had been completely para¬ lysed and confined to his arm-chair. It is almost impossible for any outsider to conceive the tragedy and the weariness of such a life, coming to such an active man in the very prime of his years. When he was taken from me and my whole life was overshadowed by his loss, there was at least the great consolation of knowing that for him the change was com¬ parable to that of a lifelong prisoner emerging from a dreary prison-cell. And the weariness of constant weakness had been such that one never doubted for a moment but that a long resting time would be necessary before one could hope or even wish to hear of him. I was in the house with a friend (the Mrs Finch of Seen and Unseen ) at the time, and as she has decided psychic gifts we had discussed the matter together and entirely agreed upon it; although Mrs Finch is a staunch Theosophist and I am no sort of “ ist ” at all! SPIRIT RETURN Within a fortnight of my brother's death, I had left her at the seaside and had returned to London where some rather trying and tiresome business matters required my presence. I was looking forward with some anxiety and discomfort to a business inter¬ view impossible to postpone, but which might have led to a lengthy and unpleasant discussion under the special circumstances of the case, when to my profound astonishment and rather to my dismay, a message came to me from my brother. He said, “ Do not trouble about to-morrow. It will be all right. I am so sorry you have had all this worry. I thought I had arranged everything for the best, but fear it has not been so after all.” I was so grieved and so astonished by the communication that l answered in hot haste, “ Please don’t worry yourself, dear, about anything of this kind. I hoped you were resting and sleeping after all your sad life. For goodness’ sake, don’t trouble about me or any of these earthly matters ! ” “ But it is my duty and it is also my wish to do so,” he answered at once. 29 DO THE DEAD DEPART? “ But I thought you were unconscious still/’ was my reply. “ No. I am awake now. I have been resting and unconscious for a time ; but I am here now to help you.” Next morning the interview took place and proved to be a brilliant success. Instead of the disagreeable episodes which had seemed inevitable, I was completely re¬ assured within the first quarter of an hour ; after a most satisfactory visit which lasted two hours, my fears, which had been amply justified by previous events, were finally dispersed and I have had no further ground for entertaining them. I do not claim that this was due to my brother’s influence ; because I should not be justified in doing so in a case where absolute evidence upon such a point is obviously absent. I may close the story however by mentioning a very curious coincidence ? I have already said that Mrs Finch and I had both agreed as to the necessity of a long rest for my brother, probably lasting several months. After the interview mentioned I wrote to Mrs Finch telling her of my great surprise 30 SPIRIT RETURN at receiving so early an intimation of my brother’s presence with me. She was still at Eastbourne, a single post from London. The morning upon which she received my letter there, I received a letter from her , say¬ ing how greatly she had been surprised by a message from her special guide, “ who told me that your brother had already come to consciousness in his new surroundings. Are you not surprised to hear this? We both felt so sure that it could not be so in his case.” I need scarcely say that Mrs Finch was greatly delighted to receive my in¬ dependent testimony to the same effect, crossing her letter. As she said at the time, “ It was very satisfactory for both of us.” 3i CHAPTER III A mother’s GUARDIANSHIP IN AMERICA I have said already that personal experience is the only argument that can really appeal to us. I believe most firmly that this is the case and that the piling up of extraneous stories and statements can have little value except for the expert , who is, as the naturalist, collecting specimens on all sides which he may sort out at leisure and from which he may finally extract some valuable tentative generalisation. Such a course, as I have stated in my Preface, is in no way the aim and scope of this little book. The opening sentence of this chapter admits, however, of slight modi¬ fication. Although an individual personal experience can alone convince , the individual personal experience of a reliable witness may at least suggest to us that what is taking place consciously in the experience of a sensitive, may be taking place unconsciously in the experience of the world at large. 3 2 A MOTHER'S GUARDIANSHIP Physical phenomena exist and go on all round us, whether we be normal men and women or blind and deaf men and women. Is it not reasonable to conclude that the same law holds good on the psychic plane which impinges upon and interpenetrates our own material existence ? This, by the bye, suggests a common-sense answer to the question so often asked, “ If the departed really do appear, why do they so often appear to the wrong people ? ” “ Why don’t / see my father or mother instead of hearing that somebody else has seen them ? ” The only reasonable answer is that the “ wrong people ” happen to have the power of seeing and you don’t happen to have it. A blind woman might just as well ask why she cannot see her husband, whilst others are able to do so, although obviously she must be more interested in him than they can possibly be ? Even were she deaf as well as blind it would not occur to her to use these facts as arguments for his non¬ existence ! It is the sense of personality and identity, so difficult to put into words, so undeniable in effect, which makes our ex¬ periences, whether psychic or spiritual, actual c 33 DO THE DEAD DEPART? to us and distinct from the numerous impres¬ sions which pass away like the morning mists. Marvellous as were my experiences of materialisation in America, it is not to them that I owe my conviction of the presence of my unseen friends. The most sensational experiences on the objective plane, no matter how keenly en¬ graved upon the memory , are bound to lose their weight of impression on the intellectual and spiritual faculties, as time passes. It is not that which has struck your eyes and ears and affected your physical senses which remains with you as a permanent conviction. It is the subjective knowledge of truth and identity which makes an experience your own. Nothing less than this will bear the test of time and change, and all the critics and philosophers in the world cannot take this from you, any more than they could give it to you. Not the blaring trumpets of “miracles” and “phenomena,” but the “ still, small voice ” is that which remains with you in the long run. It is the constant loving care and com¬ panionship of my friends in the Unseen— 34 A MOTHER’S GUARDIANSHIP not their occasional recognition through some medium—that enables me to assert without one moment’s doubt, and with the authority of one who knows , that the dead do return, or rather that they never really depart. Richard Jefferies, in one of his exquisite bits of writing, tells us how the unity of life was revealed to him when he stood by the grave of one he loved, and knew that “Love could kiss the lips of Death.” But I think we must stand as he did before that absolute conviction can come to us. To some poor souls it seems never to come at all. In any case it appears to me a hopeless task to attempt to prove to the intellect that which transcends without contradicting the intel¬ lectual and which appeals to the spirit of man. So long as the spirit sleeps, we may knock in vain at the door of the intellect. We shall have sore knuckles for our pains but nothing more, and the sooner we realise this the better. It will save us all annoyance and spare some of us much misdirected energy. Amongst the apparently trivial and yet most satisfying evidences of my mother’s 35 DO THE DEAD DEPART? presence with me during my first American journey I have noted two instances. My companion. Miss Greenlow, and I were travelling West after spending the winter of 1885-1886 in the Eastern States. Not knowing the conditions of climate, we had arranged to leave Washington very early in April, whilst the weather was still unsettled and almost wintry ; so soon as we had said good-bye to Washington. The consequence was that our first experience of extensive American travel was a pretty bad “ Washout.” The water was over the wheels of the carriages in many places and the delays were numerous and most aggra¬ vating. All the arrangements of the railway companies were dislocated ; we were hours behind our time and literally there was no means of knowing, within a day or two, when we should arrive at Cincinnati. Naturally everything depended upon the state in which we found the lines of rail farther on, and no one attempted to make any calculations where the necessary factors were non-existent. Being already twenty-four hours behind our 36 A MOTHER’S GUARDIANSHIP advertised time, I asked an official how long he thought it would be before we reached Cincinnati. “ Two or three days, I guess,” was his grim and uncompromising answer, so I took the hint and did not trouble him again. It was a dreary start for our journey west, to be hung up at some wayside station hour after hour, waiting for the waters to sub¬ side; then to go on for a bit and have a similar experience a little later. Several clairvoyantes in Boston, Phila¬ delphia and Washington had independently told me of my mother’s constant guardian¬ ship and had given me her two names after very little hesitation ; so one evening when I was feeling very hopeless over our in¬ numerable halts and waits, it suddenly struck me that I would consult her in the matter. I think at that time I used my watch as a means of communication, holding a hair¬ pin or anything of the kind, loosely over it in the right hand and repeating the alphabet until my hand was pushed downwards to the back of the watch, at a special letter. First I asked whether we should reallyreach Cincinnati next day at all, as it seemed 37 DO THE DEAD DEPART? doubtful—a most reassuring “ Tes ” was tapped out. Next I asked at what time, and “four o'clock in the morning" was given. Now this appeared absolutely improbable, for we were still many miles distant and the state of the roadway gave no reasonable hope of such a possibility. If the answer had been “ four p.m " I should have felt more confidence in it. As it was, I supposed that my own mentality had become mixed up with the message and that the wish as usual had been father to the thought. We went to bed early, after I had told my companion of my experience and we had both agreed not to believe in any such impossibly good news. We were travelling, although very slowly, at the time I turned in. I must have slept for some hours, when I was awakened by a sudden jolt and found that we were once more stationarv. “ Another stoppage as usual,” I thought. There was absolute darkness and absolute silence as I lay awake musing. Then from the farther end of the sleeping-car I re¬ cognised soft, stealthy steps creeping past the thick curtains of my lower berth. 1 drew these cautiously aside and confronted 38 A MOTHER’S GUARDIANSHIP the conductor, who instantly put his finger to his lips to enjoin silence, for the sleeping- car. “ Where are we ? ” I whispered cautiously. “ Cincinnati,” was his equally cautious reply. “ What o’clock is it,” I asked with some excitement, as the remem¬ brance of the previous evening came back to me. Even now I can recall the eerie feeling with which I listened for his answer. “ Four o’clock” he answered rather im¬ patiently and turned away, to prevent the possibility of any further questions. It turned out that we had arrived con¬ siderably ahead of the most sanguine expectations, and when daylight came and we were able to gain the shelter and com- parative comfort of the hotel, my thankful¬ ness for a safe journey after much difficulty and discomfort was much enhanced by the proof of my mother’s power as well as wish to help and cheer me. Some months later, a similar experience came to me, also at a time of considerable suspense. Very much against the advice of our American friends, Miss Greenlow and I had arranged to visit the Grand Canon of 39 DO THE DEAD DEPART? the Colorado—in Arizona, and not in the Rocky Mountains, as some people suppose. In those days it was a much more diffi¬ cult expedition than/ I am told, it is at present. There was absolutely no accom¬ modation up there except a small wooden shanty only used when some stray photo¬ grapher or naturalist found his way to this then remote district and was driven up to it for a night’s lodging, taking his provisions with him. We turned a deaf ear to our prudent counsellors, telling them that we should never have seen anything in America had we listened to everyone’s advice in our travels ! In this special case the advice was more than justified, but we could not know this beforehand, and we were extremely anxious to see the beauties of which we had heard such extravagant (but not really ex¬ aggerated) accounts. We reached Peach Springs (where the railway was to be left) safely, and after a few hours’ rest in a miserable wayside inn, our host told us that all arrangements had been made for our comfort and convenience and that at eleven o’clock a buck-board (a very primitive vehicle without springs) would be 40 A MOTHER’S GUARDIANSHIP ready to carry us and the provisions ordered for us, some thirty-five miles up the canon to the wooden shanty aforesaid. We found that we were to be consigned to the care of a good-looking but rather taciturn young man of twenty-six or twenty-seven, who was later on to combine the offices of cook, housemaid and guide, companion and friend, in one. For our host after driving us up to the shanty and giving us in charge to “ Billy,” calmly announced that he proposed to take the buck-board back again, leaving us entirely dependent upon our feet for locomotion. This was rather a shock as we had been led to suppose that he would “boss the ex¬ pedition” himself and that Billy was only taken up as his lieutenant. However we had already committed ourselves to a three days’ stay, Friday being the day of our arrival, and the man assured us that he had arranged the provisions accordingly and that Billy was an absolutely dependable and estimable person. Poor Billy ! He certainly did well by us, but it was a little discouraging to hear from himself (as soon as the Peach Springs impostor had disappeared) that he had been picked up 41 DO THE DEAD DEPART? from a gambling saloon two or three weeks previously and that this was his only claim to respectability ! Moreover he was quite frank in telling us that his dearest friend had been Billy the Kid, a notorious character who had been hanged in ’Frisco five years previously, having no less than nineteen murders to his account, although barely twenty years old at the time of his death—hence I suppose his sobriquet of the Kid. Unfortunately for my peace of mind I had come upon a small life of Billy the Kid in San Francisco and had read it with some interest as indicating the lawless state of California, even so short a time as five years before our visit. Our Billy regaled us every evening with the other Billy’s adventures which sounded far more lifelike from the lips of his bosom friend, but followed very much the lines of the biography. We ended by thinking Billy the Kid rather a hero in spite of his crimes, and almost regretting the treachery of a woman which gave justice the “ drop upon him,” for the first time in all his wild career. Still we would not have exchanged him for our own Billy, who never but once gave me 42 A MOTHER’S GUARDIANSHIP a moment’s anxiety, during our visit to the canon. This was on the Sunday morning when he and I started at 6 a.m. to climb a moun¬ tain in front of the shanty, which had been tempting me since my arrival. It was only some 3,000 feet above us, but the view was said to be most extensive and magnificent, which proved to be quite true. We had spent the intermediate day strolling up and down the canon and gathering exquisite flowers from the sides of the narrow crick or brook which ran through it. We had to climb a good many rocks during our investiga¬ tions, and Miss Greenlow had unfortunately sprained her ankle over one of these and was quite unequal to the Sunday expedition which we had planned, but said she should really enjoy a few hours alone. So I had no scruples in taking her at her word. After a hasty cup of tea, Billy and 1 set out together and a pretty stiff climb brought us at length to the plateau of the mountain just below the real top. “Got a light about you?” said Billy, rather gruffly, as we negotiated the; last bit of climbing before reaching this plateau. 43 DO THE DEAD DEPART? Englishwomen did not smoke much in those days and the question seemed a little curious. I could only express my sorrow that I could not accommodate him, when he suddenly exclaimed, “ Never mind—more ways than one of getting a light,” and with that he pulled out his revolver rather suddenly and began some mysterious operations with a cartridge from which he extracted the shot, and with a bit of rag. Perhaps being tired and hungry I was rather fanciful, but his manner seemed a little queer and suddenly my absolute helplessness, miles away from any habitation, or human being (except poor Miss Greenlow, equally helpless and with a sprained ankle) broke upon me with overwhelming strength. How devoutly 1 wished Billy would put that revolver away! What in the world was there to prevent his giving me a little push over the edge of the narrow plateau and re¬ turning to Miss Greenlow with the story of my fall ? She could not start off to look for me in any case and without more words, nothing could be easier than for Billy to give her a blow on the head, sufficient to stun her for some little time at least. 44 A MOTHER’S GUARDIANSHIP She had a very valuable gold watch and of course we both had a certain amount of money with us. After securing this, Billy had only to make his tracks over the mountains by another route, drop down on the rail at the first convenient spot and soon be lost once more in some gambling den in ’Frisco. These thoughts passed through my mind in a flash. Billy meanwhile had lost his glum look and was getting more and more excited as he worked away at his cartridge. In my blank terror, I thought,