Opening The Psychic Door

By F.W. Fitzsimons F.Z.S., F.R.M.S.

“Try the facts in every way you choose; they can only be accounted for by the interaction of intelligences other than our own. Intelligences which appear to be of every grade—some of them possessing powers unknown to us.” – SIR OLIVER LODGE.

In 1920—1921 I was in London, and, with a colleague, had many psychic experiences at, what is commonly known as, a “Direct Voice Séance.” The medium was a Mrs Wriedt.

A trumpet, the shape of a megaphone, made of aluminium, is usually placed on the floor or a table. This is raised into the air by supernormal power, and spirit people speak through it.

The trumpet merely acts as an amplifier for speech, and also for the purpose of concentrating the psychic emanations known as ectoplasm, which is mostly drawn from the medium. The trumpet was marked with luminous paint.

Mrs Wriedt, on this occasion, was dressed in a white robe. The trumpet was on the floor between myself and my friend, and six feet away from the medium. Heavy black curtains were drawn over the window; but being daylight outside, sufficient light penetrated the room to enable us to dimly discern the medium who during the one hour of the séance, did not move from her chair. No music was played; but the three of us conversed at intervals.

Suddenly the trumpet rose to a height of about eight feet from the floor. The bell end pointed at an angle down direct to me, being at least ten feet from the medium. Through it came the voice of a woman, tremulous and vibrant with excitement and emotion:

“Fred! Fred! My boy! My boy, it’s your mother —do you hear me? I am your mother.”

Taken aback, I was silent, until the medium exhorted me to speak up and ask questions.

“Yes, yes, mother, I hear you; but it is too wonderful! Is it really you—can it be?”

“Yes, yes, I am your mother; Norah is with me.” (Norah is a deceased sister of mine.)

“If you are really my mother, please tell me what was the complaint which caused you to pass over.”

“Consumption of the lungs.”

Then, through the trumpet, came a succession of consumptive coughs. I knew that coughing only too well, because, as a boy I used to sit by her bedside when she lay patiently waiting to pass on. The trumpet then came slowly down and settled on the floor. Presently it rose again and my mother announced herself.

“Fred, it is I, your mother I rested to gather power. I want you to be careful—do not get your feet and clothes wet—yes, your feet especially.”

“But, mother,” I answered, “what do you mean by that?”

“Take heed, my boy, be careful, very careful, your feet, your clothes, keep yourself dry.”

The trumpet again went down and rested on the floor; and after remaining a short time rose, and the same gentle voice of my mother came through it.

“Fred, Fred, do you hear me?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“It is not what you think it is; do not worry anymore; it will come right.”

“But what do you mean, mother? “I asked, bewildered.

“Your cough, the cough you have. Do not worry; there is no cause for worry; it is not what you think it is. In three months it will be gone. Goodbye, my boy—my boy, God bless and keep you.”

The trumpet came down and rested on the floor. Addressing my friend I asked, “Did you hear what was said?”
“Yes,” he replied, “I heard nearly every word she said.”

Then up rose the trumpet again and it sailed like an airship across the room and over to my friend; through it a deceased relative of his spoke to him on intimate, private matters.

I was mystified by those two messages from my mother; but the explanations came later.

I had heard that, on Easter Monday, there is a vast exodus of people from the East End of London to Hampstead Heath. I wanted to see this, to me, novel sight; accompanied by my wife and friend, I went. It unfortunately started to rain—a steady, continuous downpour. We took shelter and killed time in a restaurant; and eventually decided to make tracks for our hotel.

It seemed that thousands were fighting for seats in buses and trams. After shivering for some time we managed to get accommodation on the top of a bus. It stopped innumerable times in the overcrowded streets, through traffic jams. My thick overcoat was soaked through; the damp had penetrated to my very skin. Cold and miserable, we made for our respective rooms. I changed into evening dress for dinner, and that night retired early. At one o’clock in the morning I awoke shivering. I tried to control it, but could not; this was the prelude to pneumonia from which I nearly passed on.

During 1918 the” Flu “epidemic had swept through South Africa, leaving a trail of human corpses in its wake. I undertook the work of giving prophylactic and therapeutic vaccine injections at the request of the Government. I gave upwards of ten thousand injections.

Almost from the beginning I contracted “Flu” but fought it off, and injected vaccine copiously into myself. Anyway, I carried on to the end; and when the work was done, I collapsed for a short time and was afterwards annoyed by a dry, irritating cough.

I began to believe it to be T.B., and that was the deciding factor in my going overseas to England in 1920.
At the time my mother spoke, I had come to the conclusion that it must be the onset of consumption. Four medical men \who examined me at intervals looked wise and gave evasive answer to my questions as to what was wrong with me.

Three months later when on the high seas bound for South Africa I had a serious fit of coughing, and there was a gush of blood from my mouth. I looked at my stained handkerchief and remarked to myself, “Well, that’s that, it is T.B. all right.”

I fell to wondering how long my body would last out; but that was the end of the trouble. It was all due, no doubt, to chronic congestion in the forks of the bronchial tubes; or perhaps a tuberculous patch in or on one lung.

Here, then, was the explanation of the warning and message of assurance given by my mother through the trumpet.

Shortly after this episode I was wandering through Madame Tussaud’s waxworks, and among the men of note in English politics, I had the pleasure of seeing the waxwork figure of Charles Bradlaugh. He having been a “ Spirit Guide “ at our Home Circle in Natal, I was much interested, and sat on a bench opposite where I could obtain a full view of his commanding figure and massive head ; and fell to meditating on the past.

Three or four weeks later I happened to have a private sitting with an accredited deep-trance medium in London. Her guide came through and talked; suddenly he exclaimed: “A co-worker of yours is here. He is a man of powerful and forceful mind. When on earth he accomplished much; I will permit him to come through.”

The medium’s body sank back and, drawing a few deep breaths, she sat upright; her head was slightly tilted back, the jaw set firm. Suddenly her hands shot out impulsively and held mine in a firm hearty grasp of friendship ; and, in a strong voice, said I am Bradlaugh—Charles Bradlaugh. Again, old friend, once again we meet. Yes, it is years since I manifested at your little Circle in far-off South Africa.”

I admit I was much taken aback, not having the remotest idea that he, of all men, would come to me like this; and through a medium whose very name I did not know, and who had never seen me before.

“I am indeed glad to meet you again,” I exclaimed impulsively. “I never knew you in the earth body; but you are and have been just as real to me all these years.”

“Yes! “he replied in his deep, strong voice, that I knew so well from past experience. “You and I have much—very much—in common, and our work is not yet ended.”

“Shall we work together in spirit life?” I asked.

“Yes, eventually, but not now, no, not for many years to come. You and I will accomplish much on earth—you in the material body and I in the spirit body. The discarnate man will work hand-in-hand with the incarnate.”

He ceased to speak for some little time; his face lit up with a humorous smile, and he, at last, remarked:
“Well, what did you think of my waxwork image?”

I was abashed and did not know what to say at the moment.

“I was with you when you sat on the seat and looked at my figure; good figure of a man?” he laughed.

Proceeding, he said: “I am the same now, but changed, very much changed—in thought, ideals, and in form, too.”

“In what manner? “I queried.

“I am young again and pulsating with life. There is no old age here, my friend. The spirit body is young and always remains so, without any of earth’s blemishes.”

“What brought you when I was looking at your wax figure?”

“Your thoughts at the time were centred on me, and I came to see the reason why.”

A week after this occurrence I decided to visit Mr William Hope who lived at Crewe, which is a railway centre in the midlands of England. I had heard of the wonderful gift he and his sister-in-law possessed of obtaining psychic photographs, scotographs, etc.

I wrote twice, and then sent a prepaid telegram, with the object of arranging an appointment; but I received no answer. This, I ascertained subsequently from Miss Estelle Stead, was typical of him; I was advised to go up to Crewe on chance.

Accompanied by two South African friends, I visited the Kodak Film Company’s premises in London. I said to the assistant : “ Please let me have a packet of quarter-plate special rapid photo plates; take them into your dark room and mark each plate, so that you can identity them afterwards if called upon to do so.’’

The folloving day was Saturday, and we caught the morning train for Crewe. Arriving there, Hope’s cottage was soon found, and Mrs Buxton kindly invited us in. Presently Hope appeared in his rough working clothes, having been called from his workshop.

Learning of our visit he objected strongly, declaring that he never seemed to get a weekend to himself. However, he was mollified by our declaring we had come from far-away South Africa to see him.

“Did you bring your own plates?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered.

“That’s well,” he remarked. “Now please do not let them out of your sight. I have been called all manner of bad names in newspapers; and I am tired of it.”

Before going into the dark room I carefully examined the two carriers. I asked Hope to come in, and he stood six feet away on my left; meantime, one of my friends, a man with as great experience in amateur photography as myself, undid the packet.

Taking out a plate he signed his name across the film side of four, and I initialled them. Carefully watched all the time by him, I loaded the slides and carried them out of the dark room.

The camera belonged to Hope, and it was a simple, cheap, quarter-plate, tripod. I made a minute examination of it, even to unscrewing the lens and scrutinizing it critically.

The photo studio was a dilapidated lean-to glass conservatory, where a pile of coal was lying in one corner, tinder in another, and an assortment of neglected and unhealthy plants in tins and pots.

Taking a dark rug at random from the couch in the small lounge, I tacked it on to the wall to serve as a background for the sitters. Four plates in all were exposed, and in three my friends were the sitters in the fourth I sat, while one of my friends released the shutter.

Before each exposure, Mr. Hope stood on one side of the camera and Mrs. Buxton on the other, joining hands over the camera. Photographically they had nothing whatsoever to do with the work from start to finish.

Accompanied by my friends I went into the dark room, developed and fixed the plates. They were then washed in the kitchen sink and examined. Three of the four had psychic images on them.

The following morning we repeated the performance, and there were two “extras” on four exposed plates. When prints were obtained from the negatives, the five psychic images were seen to be human faces, surrounded by a mass of misty material.

One was immediately recognized by a colleague as the face of a deceased clergyman friend of his, who had lived and died in Capetown. A second was that of a deceased uncle of my wife’s; two, we could not locate; the fifth was that of a beautiful dark-haired and large-eyed girl with a sweet smile; she was looking down at my friend, who was the normal sitter in the photograph.

“Why! Do you not recognize her?” I asked. “I am sure she must have known you in earth life; just look how lovingly she is smiling down at you.”

“No!” he explained,” “I cannot remember her.”

“A sweetheart of your young days, whom you have forgotten and who still loves you,” I commented.

“Stuff and nonsense,” he growled.

Months later he arrived back in Capetown and showed the psychic photos to his wife. With the usual orthodox sceptical smile one sees on the faces of those who believe such supernormal happenings to be impossible, she examined the photographs.

“Why, that’s Mabel,” she suddenly declared.

“Do you recognize it, then?” her husband eagerly asked.

“Yes, do you not remember her?” She was a friend of mine before I married you, and was one of our bridesmaids.”

He had been married thirty years, and small wonder he could not recognize the girl. After considerable searching the photo of the wedding group was found and sure enough there, for all to see, was Mabel.

Numbers of people have examined these two photographs and all unhesitatingly declared they are of the same girl. The one in the wedding group is full face, and the other three-quarter face.

“The vast mass of conclusive evidence, which is recorded from year to year demonstrating the survival of human personality after so-called death, is sufficient to establish it for evermore as an irrefutable fact, for such it truly is.” – F.W.F

A NEW YEAR’S EVE SEANCE (through the mediumship of Hunter Selkirk)

By George Cranley

TWENTY minutes to midnight December 31, 1941. We had not been seated more than five minutes and had just started to sing the first hymn when physical phenomena occurred. A spirit friend was present and touched each sitter. Hunter was sitting on his chair outside the cabinet, singing with us, and having heard someone say, “God bless you, friend,” asked if anything was happening.

It is very seldom that we have any phenomena with the medium fully conscious. Some of the sitters did not like this. They contended that this gave an opportunity to gate-crashers, but I considered this to be evidential. The medium was singing and talking with us. There were ten of us when the meeting began. We were sitting close enough to know if a neighbour had moved, and yet an eleventh person was present, capable of administering a physical touch. This was confirmed when we heard the voice of my Indian guide above the singing say that he was present.

The medium was still sitting in the circle when Zuru (chief guide of Hunter Selkirk) spoke and welcomed us all. He told us to listen carefully and in a second or two we heard his voice coming from the ceiling above the cabinet. He invited me to the cabinet. By reaching into it, above my head, I could feel the medium’s feet and the legs of the chair. Although I did not try to pull down the chair, I took a firm grip of the leg. There is no doubt in my mind that the medium and his chair had been levitated to the ceiling. He must have descended very quietly. We did not even hear the chair touch the floor. All we heard was Zuru’s voice, again from the normal position in the cabinet, asking us to switch on the blue light.

This blue shaded light was so arranged that the light shone on to the cabinet. We heard the cooing of a dove, and soon the materialised form of a dove emerged from the cabinet and flew around the room. This symbol of love and peace heralded the coming of our dear friend, Thomas Milton.

He appeared between the curtains resplendent in his long white robe. He stepped out into the centre of the room and we saw the noble features of this man from the realm of light. His broad, white forehead, his bright, deep-set eyes, his rather full mouth and his soft-looking beard and moustache were all easy to identify.

All was peace and quiet as he moved to each sitter and gave his blessing by placing his hand upon the head of each one present. This peaceful, reverent feeling pervaded the room as he moved slowly back to the cabinet and in a soft, low voice said:

“Peace, perfect peace. Fear not; God is with you always. I leave my peace with you.”

Not a sound was heard from the cabinet while all this was taking place. I could not see into the cabinet, the curtains were closed. But if this was Hunter Selkirk, then a wonderful transformation had taken place. There was no resemblance in the face, the personality was different and the robe with its many yards of ‘material” was a phenomenon in itself.

I have gone “first-footing” many times, but this was the most amazing example of “letting in the new year” I had ever come across. This was our introduction to a new year that could very easily be one of disaster, but these few minutes spent in the company of this beautiful soul gave us a confidence that will bear us up however stormy it may be.

The next materialisation was Topsy. She came laughing and full of fun as usual. Her white teeth showed up very distinctly in contrast to her little black face. She was dressed in a white robe. She walked across to me and placed her little arms around my neck. I could feel underneath my chin, the soft, feather-like texture of the material of which the robe was made. Her small fingers on the back of my neck were soft and warm.

She told us that she was going away and that we must switch off the light as she was coming back. We were now sitting in the dark and soon we heard her voice again. She informed us that she was going to hand out the wine and the cake. She took a bottle of wine and a wine glass from the tray on the dressing table and poured a glass of wine for me. She repeated this for each one and then took the knife and cut the cake, handing a portion to each.

“Now,” she said, “you can switch on the light again” Topsy was nowhere to be seen, but everyone else, except the medium, was sitting with a glass of wine and a piece of cake.

Topsy seemed determined to give me convincing evidence. We were talking about her recent display when we heard her voice again, near the cabinet. I looked in that direction and I saw a white form on top of the dressing table which stood close to the side curtain of the cabinet. She asked me to come over to the cabinet, and when I did, I saw her sitting on top of the dressing table. She took hold of my left hand and told me to put my right hand into the cabinet. It was immediately gripped by the hand of the medium. There I was, standing, with the medium holding one hand and Topsy outside the cabinet holding the other. Three of the sitters also went through the same performance. “I think that ought to convince you,” she said and disappeared very quickly.

Things happened very quickly. Soon we saw what appeared to be a white cloud above the curtains of the cabinet. This assumed the form of a child and we heard a childish voice say, “It’s Mary.”

Mrs. Cook recognised this as belonging to her niece who passed on a few years ago. She talked to her about her father and mother and her younger brother. Mary stayed in this position for about two minutes and went away as she had come, over the top of the curtains.

Little Jimmy Prudhoe was the next to come. This was the first time he had materialised. He came out between the curtains and stood just outside the cabinet. So radiant did he appear that all the sitters spontaneously and simultaneously rose from their seats and gathered around the boy. Some were on their knees, others bent forward looking at him. A halo of light encompassed the full form. Every feature was perfect, hair, eyes, nose, ears, and the little teeth, when he smiled, could be clearly seen, and made an unforgettable picture.

With his little face shining with joy and an emotional tremor in his voice he said, “Gee, I am happy.” I straightened up and looked on for a minute or so at this wonderful sight. There he stood, a bright, radiant spirit child saying again and again, “Gee, I am so happy.” As I looked I thought how fortunate we were to be able to witness a scene like this.

We had a visit from “The Doctor” at this meeting. He bounced out of the cabinet in his lively, buoyant manner and stood where the light shone full upon him. He was fully materialised and robed in white. He beckoned each sitter in turn to come close to him. We knew it was a materialisation separate from the medium because Zuru laughed in the cabinet as “The Doctor” actually danced with several of the lady sitters.

Red Dawn is the name of the North American Indian who visited us next. He is a guide of one of the men sitters. He stepped briskly out of the cabinet and stood underneath the light.
He was robed in white from shoulders to feet and had a white band around his forehead. The firm, copper-coloured facial features, a prominent nose, eyes deep set, small mouth and
straight, black hair were all easily distinguishable. He did not speak but signified “Yes” or “No” in answer to questions by moving his head.

I saw my own Indian guide materialise for the first time. He came slowly out of the cabinet and stood near the light. As I stood close to him I had to look up to see his face. I estimated his height to be seven feet and he was proportionately built. Like the others he had on a white robe which covered his whole body from the shoulders to the floor, and wore a feathered headdress made of the same material.

He had the same copper-coloured skin as Red Dawn, and a stern look. I particularly noticed the bright, glistening eyes as he placed his hand on my shoulder and bent his head slightly forward. I have felt this touch on my shoulder many times, sometimes when I have been alone and not even thinking of him. I stood about three minutes talking to him, but all he was able to say was that he was my friend. I think it must take all the available power for these full materialisations, as they talk more when they have only partly materialised and carry their own illumination, or when speaking in the direct voice.

Next we had a double materialisation, Topsy and Ivy together. They both came out of the cabinet together. Topsy’s features were well formed and distinct, but Ivy was not so successful. They stayed close together all the time and danced round the room while we sang. They did not stay long and went back into the cabinet together.

On instructions from Zuru the light was switched off and several children came in and wished us “a happy new year.” Then Topsy came again and sat on a chair between two of the sitters. She said it was 2 a.m. and time we were going home. “You have your work to do and we have our work to do,” she said. “We try to work a little harder for your benefit, because we want you to have a good foundation for your spirit homes.

“So many come over here into places that are nothing like homes. Some make material possessions their sole aim and when they come here they are surprised and often horrified to see what they have built for themselves by ignoring the eternal qualities. Material possessions are temporal. Hold fast to the spiritual possessions and they will serve you well.”

We joined her in singing the hymn, “0 Love That Will Not Let Me Go,” and the meeting was closed with prayer. The medium and his chair were shot out of the cabinet, and as he asked, “Is the meeting finished?” we heard children’s voices from the cabinet saying, “Good night.”

                      A Christmas Tree Séance by Hannen Swaffer

Through the mediumship of Mollie Perriman

The Christmas tree sittings have to be experienced to be realised. What joy it is to hear the little ones from the other side of life exclaim in wonderment when they see the huge tree laden with toys of every description.

Belle (spirit child guide of Mrs Perriman) had invited nearly forty people to attend a direct voice séance at which there was a big tree, covered with toys. They had been sent – over three hundred of them – from all over the country, many of them for spirit children whose names were given. Others came from former sitters of Mrs Perriman, or people who had been helped. A huge doll was sent to Belle by someone overseas.

It is hard for non-Spiritualists to understand, but these toys, sent after the party to poor children living in London slums, have astral counterparts which are taken back to the Other World by the “dead” children to whom they are first given.

For over two hours, we sat listening to the voices of more than fifty children, who all inspected the tree, chose their various toys – yes, and played with them. Indeed, when the séance was over, the great mass of toys grouped around the tree was scattered in violent disarray.

Sometimes we heard a toy trumpet blown, “I am blowing two at once,” said one of the child voices.
We heard little ones arguing about which fairy doll they could have. Boy after boy said “I want a motor car.”

One remarkable feature of the séance was the great difference in the spirit voices. There were some who spoke with a broad Scots accent. There were Lancashire voices, Cockney tones, and all sorts.

When I heard one voice, that of little David Evans, I said “I remember you. You came last year.”

Remembering me David carried on quite a long conversation. He came from the valleys, he said, and when I said I had recently been down South Wales he corrected my pronunciation of Bargoed and two or three other towns which I could neither spell nor pronounce.

Mrs Leonard’s Feda turned up, Mrs Duncan’s Peggy, and also Jimmy Sparrow, from Lady Caillard’s home circle.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, too spoke, and gave me a special message. “There are many of my old friends who have come to the spirit world lately, many rejoicing. Some have got to extend in some ways. When I tried to tell them about survival, years ago, they would not listen”

Walter Coulhard said “Do you realise you have taken part in a great occasion? There have been children from the other side of life here, amidst surroundings of joy. They have come to you in their innocence and love, bringing with them peace and understanding, taking away with them memories. They will have replicas of these toys for their joy in the Other World. Remember, every toy has been claimed by spirit children who have been present, both in this room and the other. Every toy has now a spirit owner. You are giving joy on earth.”

Several children were recognised by sitters. Several were addressed by their pet names.

The chief lesson to be drawn from it is the lesson to the bereaved parents. Your “dead” children are not dead. They are as human and as humorous as they were on earth.

A CHRISTMAS TREE PARTY FOR SPIRIT CHILDREN

Through the mediumship of Leslie Flint

by George Cranley

One of the most popular events in Spiritualism was the annual Xmas Tree Party for spirit children held by Leslie Flint at his home in Bayswater, London.

I attended on two occasions, the first being on the 10th December 1972.

Twenty-four invited guests attended on this occasion. There was a decorated tree with presents brought by the guests at the séance for the children in spirit.

The children would describe and take the etheric counterpart of the toy they wanted. After the séance was over the actual presents would be taken to the children’s ward at the local hospital.

The séance opened with the singing of ‘Silent Night’, followed by ‘Jingle Bells’.

Very quickly the spirit activity began.

Fragile decorations from the Xmas Tree were bounced off the walls yet none were broken!

A box of toffees was opened with various people announcing that a toffee had been placed on their lap. I asked why I hadn’t been given a sweet. Immediately two toffees landed in my lap even though I was seated four rows back and the room was pitch-black.

Both adult and child communicators spoke during the course of the séance.

Maurice Chevalier who passed over during 1972 gave a short talk.

Nellie Klute, a theatre programme seller who passed in 1917, when asked by medium Jessie Nason how she was replied, “I’ll live; and you?”

Among the spirit children who spoke were Doris, Robert, Daisy, Peter, Pat and Ian; each with their own distinctive personality interspersed with comments and asides from Mickey, the cockney child guide of Leslie Flint. At the same time as the children were selecting their toys the little toy piano or the drum would be played.

As two children argued over a particular toy Mickey would break in saying “Ere, pack it in you two” so that three voices would be heard simultaneously.

Not only were the voices different but various accents such as Scottish and American were spoken. The spirit children would request us to sing a particular song and would often sing along.

After the séance was over and the lights came on we found that the tree had almost been stripped of its decorations, an empty box of toffees lay alongside and the various parcels although unopened were in a state of disarray.

It is almost impossible to convey in words the atmosphere of joy, delight, humour, excitement and expectation that was present at these Xmas séances.

My thanks to Leslie Flint and his spirit helpers who helped to make them such memorable séances.

“Is Death the End?”

by John Henry Remmers

Materialization is the highest phase of physical mediumship, and its development should not be attempted until at least three years of effort have been applied to the unfoldment of other phases. My reasons for this conclusion are as follows: A good independent voice medium is seldom, if ever, developed in less than two years.

An additional year is usually required to bring the voice mediumship up to its best unfoldment, providing the medium is not harassed by financial cares or inharmonious environment. And as materialization (when the manifesting personalities speak) surpasses in magnitude the independent voice, it seems only logical that it should follow as a natural sequence.

Those who have never witnessed materialization should read the writings of Professor Crookes regarding his experiments with the medium Florence Cook and the manifesting personality Katie King; also “The Phenomena of Materialization”, by Baron Schrenk Notzing, “Clairvoyance and Materialization”, by Dr Gustave Geley, and the more recent experiments of various investigators through the mediumship of Mr Jonson, of California.

My own experience in witnessing this most marvellous phase of manifestation has been limited to five occurrences, one of which, however, was of such nature that it afforded every opportunity for the most careful observation. This séance took place in my own home and under conditions where fraud of any kind was impossible.

This experience brought to me such realization of the reality of the next dimension and the survival of personality that no contrary argument of any nature could ever alter my convictions. And when I read or listen to the silly postulations which oppose this Truth, I cannot at times refrain from laughing aloud. Ninety-nine percent of the opposing arguments are not only actually stupid, but highly refreshing, in that they always serve to point out clearly the critics’ absolute ignorance regarding the subject.

The séance in my home came about in the following manner: I had heard that the medium in whose presence I had witnessed the unusual demonstration of the ectoplasmic envelope was also a very fine materializing medium. I asked her if she would favour me with a séance of this kind. She replied in the negative, adding that the after-effects upon her physical organism were unpleasant, and she had given up séances of this nature entirely.

Several months passed, and the occasion arose where I could favour the lady. In appreciation she expressed a desire to repay the kindness, and I suggested a materializing séance. She agreed, and voluntarily offered to hold the séance in my own home under any conditions which I might desire. A date was set. The séance was to take place in the evening, and on the afternoon of the same day I made such arrangements as I felt would eliminate every possibility of fraud and at the same time in no manner hinder genuine results.

I had read a number of scientific books regarding materialization, thereby gaining to some extent knowledge of the rules governing the procedure. I had no intention of tricking the medium; my whole attitude was one of fairness, inspired by a desire to gain further knowledge, if possible, in this field, the most worthy of all human endeavours.

The room in which the séance took place is located on the second floor of a dwelling which was at that time our home. The house was erected under my own personal supervision; this fact at once eliminates the foolish assertions of secret trap-doors, etc., which are often proposed as an explanation for the manifestations. The room, which was used for the séance, measures eleven by twelve feet (see drawing). It is plastered and papered throughout. The ceiling is low, not more than eight feet, and has no opening of any sort. In the centre of it there is fastened an electric light fixture. At either end of the room there is a plastered closet. The closet on the south wall is large and has but the one door opening into the séance room and a small opening, fourteen by thirty inches that serves as a vent. Both the door and the vent were locked on the afternoon of the séance. The closet on the north wall measures three by three feet and the ceiling is of such nature (due to a slope in the roof) that a person of ordinary height can just stand erect in it. After a fair-sized armchair is placed in the closet, very little room is left for body movements. This closet has but one opening, and this into the séance room; the opening measures two feet four inches by six feet. It is finished with a regular doorframe, but had at the time no door. With the exception of this opening, the entire closet is plastered throughout, and no one on earth could enter it otherwise than through this opening.

This closet I chose as the cabinet. Two curtains the length of the opening were fastened at the top of the door frame, and arranged so as to part in the centre. On the west wall of the room there is a large window consisting of two stationary sashes and one movable one between them. Its distance from the ground is about twenty-five feet. This window I locked and covered with a frame upon which was tacked black oilcloth. This arrangement not only served to keep out all light rays, but also prevented any one from entering through the window. Five plain wood chairs were placed before the cabinet (as shown on drawing) and within the cabinet I placed a willow armchair. This chair was selected purposely for the medium because of its peculiarity of being extremely noisy when anyone sat in it. It was impossible to move in the chair and avoid the squeaks that came from it. The floor of the cabinet was of wood, having no covering of any sort. The photographer’s lamp containing a twenty-five watt electric globe was inserted in the fixture in the centre of the ceiling and its distance from the cabinet was six feet. The light from this lamp was directed squarely upon the curtain.

About seven-thirty that evening the medium and her husband arrived. After a half hour of conversation, she accompanied Mrs Remmers to our bedroom and there, in the presence of my wife, changed her attire, putting on an ordinary house wrapper. The two again joining us, we went directly up to the séance room, where the medium, who is almost six feet tall and weighs close to two hundred pounds, crowded into the small cabinet and seated herself in the squeaky chair.

The little group which formed the half-circle before the cabinet, as indicated on drawing, consisted of Mrs Remmers, the medium’s husband, Ellsworth, our boy, a young lady friend, and myself. After carefully locking the door, which led into the hallway, and placing the key in my pocket, it was impossible for any individual on earth to enter the room unobserved. Mrs Remmers occupied chair No. 1, the medium’s husband No. 2, Ellsworth No. 3, our friend No. 4, and I, No. 5. In the red light emanating from the photographer’s lamp one could distinguish without difficulty the features, limbs and clothing, and observe easily all movements of every sitter. Mrs Remmers and I purposely sat opposite each other and directly next to the curtains. Our positions gave us the advantage of having between us every manifestation, and also afforded excellent opportunity of hearing every sound caused by any movements the medium might make. Our chairs were within a foot of the curtains and not more than four feet apart. Our physical senses were keenly alert. Imposture under these conditions could not have been attempted without detection. The medium’s husband is a tall man weighing more than two hundred pounds. I placed him almost directly opposite me, and no move on his part could escape my attention.

For a few minutes the medium moved about in her chair, coughed violently for a time, then all grew silent. This silence continued for five minutes or more, when I noticed slight movements at the bottom ends of the curtains. These movements continued, and finally grew to such extent that it appeared as though both curtains were being blown out into the room by a strong draught.

The curtains actually stiffened out at an angle greater than forty-five degrees. Gradually they dropped back into place and then proceeded to bulge in the centre as though being held at either end. I have since learned that this was caused by the uncontrolled energies emanating from both sides of Life, and that heavy curtains should always be used to assist the operators in concentrating these energies within the cabinet. The curtains used on this occasion were of a very light material.

Shortly after this interesting occurrence, the curtains parted and there appeared before us the slender form of a woman. She was attired in a white robe of the most exquisite laces, and emanating from her whole being there came a radiance the like of which I have never seen. The manifestation informed us that she was one of the medium’s guides, and then gave a short talk on the wondrous beauties of Life beyond the earthplane. I paid no attention to what she was saying but arose and studied her carefully. In no manner did she resemble the medium. Two people could not have been more opposite in features and physique.

After a brief interval she bid us adieu, and while the curtains remained closed, vanished before our eyes. But in less than ten seconds a boy’s head and shoulders appeared between the curtains and, laughing, he invited his mother and me to come close, study his countenance from all sides, so that every particle of doubt regarding his survival would be eliminated. The boy submitted to every test requested, asking me repeatedly if I could see the cap he wore.

This incident of the cap should be of profound interest to the student, because that very day, as a test, I had, mentally, without the knowledge of anyone on earth, expressed a desire that the boy, if he materialized, would wear a cap similar to the one he wore last while upon the earth-plane. The cap, which I treasured, was locked in a cedar chest in another room of the house. The medium had never seen it. And yet, at this materialization John wore a cap similar in every detail to the one locked away in his cedar chest, and he was especially eager that I observe this fact closely!

Mr Critic, what have you to say regarding this? And furthermore, would a medium practicing deception invite a careful scrutiny of her features?

I have heard critics say that under such conditions and environment people give full sway to their imagination and conjure out of nothing the image which they desire. Granting that such may be the case with some, is it not also possible that there are others with whom this does not happen, others who are just as rational and keen in their observations as the critic? Does he alone possess the power of clear and calm discernment? Most of my life has been spent in the fields of civil and structural engineering; if one is not trained to think and observe accurately in these fields, then I do not know where such training may be acquired. The one question addressed to a critic of this kind invariably closes the discussion, and it is this: “Have you ever witnessed a materialization?” Nine times out of ten the answer is: “No, and I don’t want to!” There you have it! – the old prejudice, which, like the clam, enjoys only the narrowness of its own little world.

Directly following the manifestation of our boy, the first wife of the medium’s husband materialized, stepped away from the cabinet and stood directly before him. Their conversation was of the most endearing nature. In the nobler Life beyond, petty grievances do not exist. There, Love is the governing factor. Jealousy is only of earth; the nearer we approach God the less of it we know.

The manifesting personality I have just mentioned had hardly re-entered the cabinet when a slim masculine form appeared. The rapid appearance of each personality is worthy of attention. The cleverest actor, with all sorts of assistance and trappings, could not have accomplished these lightning-like transformations. The slim masculine form who now stood before us and conversed happily with his sister, Mrs Remmers, was fully attired in evening clothes. I studied carefully the entire manifestation, from the wavy hair down to the patent leather shoes. Unbelievable, isn’t it? Well, I can only tell you what I have seen. If you question my sincerity or qualifications as an investigator, then apply your own effort and investigate for yourself, just as I did. These facts will some day grip men on earth with astonishing effect; thus far, only a minority know that they are true.

Almost instantaneously following the manifestation of Mrs Remmers’ brother, the form of a girl appeared. She was not more than four feet six inches tall and generally small in physique. This personality walked about among us for ten minutes or more, chatting happily with all present, especially Ellsworth, for whose pleasure she danced gracefully about the half-circle. Could the medium, who stood almost six feet and weighed nearly two hundred pounds, have accomplished this? How?

As the girl stood between Mrs Remmers and myself, I took hold of her garments and asked my wife to do likewise. We examined the substance; it appeared white in colour, and felt soft, warm and life-like. I then took a firm grip upon it, and suggested that Mrs Remmers do the same, and not leave go under any condition.

Now came the supreme test! We held on firmly, and only by means of force and considerable disturbance could a fraud have dislodged itself. But the girl before us only chuckled, then vanished, leaving our clenched hands empty. The mysterious radiant matter had vanished with the manifestation. Such an experience is worth a lifetime of effort here, and once having had it, we laugh at the bugaboo men call “Death”. Asleep in the grave? Ah! The so-called dead are more alive than we!

Thus far, and throughout all that occurred, not a sound came from within the cabinet. The medium made not the slightest move. She was, as I know today, in deep trance. All of the talking, with the exception of a few words from the control, was done by the manifesting personalities outside the cabinet.

I relaxed, sat back in my chair convinced that the medium had absolutely nothing to do with the manifestation, but was only serving as an instrument for the use of Intelligences whose knowledge is far superior to our own.

Seven other personalities manifested, among them my wife’s mother, the mother of our friend, my sister, and my grandmother on my mother’s side. The known likeness between my wife and her mother was remarkably apparent. I had lived with my grandparents from the time that I was twelve years old, or a period of thirteen years, and came in close contact with them up to the time of their transition. No one knew the face or the voice of my good grandmother better than I. She had been a mother to me for almost twenty years. German was her favourite language, and in German we conversed. The medium does not speak nor understand this language. Several others materialized but were strangers to me; therefore I cannot vouch for them, but the recognition of those I did know was unmistakable.

The séance lasted almost two hours; there had been considerable conversation of an intimate nature throughout. As the control brought the manifestations to a close, he instructed us to open wide the curtains, observe the medium in trance, and inspect the cabinet. Mrs Remmers and the young lady held the curtains wide apart while I entered the cabinet. I found the medium in deep trance with her head hanging over the side of the chair; the independent voice of the control instructed me to feel the hands and face of the medium, which I did. Both were extremely cold and clammy. Throughout the entire séance the medium’s husband did not leave his chair. After a short period, the medium emerged from the trance. I unlocked the hall door and switched on the light. When the medium left the cabinet she was exceedingly pale and weak. Noting this, Mrs Remmers and I insisted that she and her husband remain as our guests for the night.

I shall only mention that my own dear mother materialized and spoke to me. The manifestation was perfect, resembling in every detail the cherished memories of her loving countenance and delicate form. That which transpired between us is sacred to me. I cannot write about it.
God bless you, mother mine!

May the glory of thy radiance ever shine throughout the Eternities. And in this darker place of fears amid its mockery and sneers, May it guide me to be true, thinking ever, dear, of you!

Those who have never experienced such manifestations as I have just related may involuntarily question their reality, especially the statement regarding the materialization of garments as worn by Mrs Remmers’ brother. I shall try to show that it is not impossible.

First, let us consider the source of any piece of cloth with which we are familiar. For example, the wool which composes a man’s attire. We all know that this wool came from the body of the sheep; and through a process known to us as physical nature this body came from various elements, all of which had their origin in the ether. Conceding this to be a fact, would it not be possible to produce the same things out of the same ether by a shorter process as yet unknown to us?

Are we not, of this earth, constantly doing the same thing, by newer methods, shortening the process of physical nature? Today, through the proper application of radium, a plant can be made to grow and blossom before your very eyes. Would anyone have believed this a century ago? It is, even at this period of our development, extremely difficult for the majority of men to comprehend anything beyond the realms of dense matter and the slow processes of nature as we ordinarily experience them.

Dense matter is in reality nothing more than an illusion compared with that which is, in fact, The Reality, and with a few simple words this truth can be substantiated. Let us consider briefly this substance, which appears so real to the majority of men. Let us see what it is actually composed of.

What is matter? It is a substance composed of atoms held together by Cohesive Force. What are atoms? Intricate particles, untold numbers of which go to make up the smallest quantity of matter visible to the eye of man.

What constitutes an atom? Gases.
What do we mean by gases? Ether.
And what is ether? No one knows. And yet within it exists the mystery of all Life, Intelligence, and the Power, which creates worlds, and all that is!

The materialization of discarnate entities fully attired in clothing of their own choice is a fact. To assert that this is not possible is but a futile effort to limit the Unlimitable! The most difficult part of the whole situation at present is that the intelligences of the next dimension are making use of energies and elements of which we of earth as yet know nothing.

At this period of our development we simply cannot comprehend such energies and elements. Gradually, however, this situation will be altered, just as similar ones have been altered through all the past ages. As the centuries unroll, Man moves onward, constantly gaining knowledge and constantly smashing such barriers, which oppose his forward march. Slowly but irresistibly the “Preconceived Result” is being accomplished.

My own meagre understanding regarding the production of materialization is as follows: A portion of the energy used is drawn partly from the sitters, but mainly from the medium. This energy is then vitalized with other energies and elements as yet unknown to us, and the combination is concentrated within the cabinet. The discarnate entity moves into this combination of energies and elements and his ethereal body absorbs them, thereby temporarily taking on a nature similar to our own. As to the actuality of materialization I quote the following from Sir William Crookes’ writings.

“One evening I timed Katie’s (the manifesting entity’s) pulse. It beat steadily at seventy-five, whilst Miss Cook’s (the medium’s) pulse a little time after was going at its usual rate of ninety. On applying my ear to Katie’s chest I could hear a heart beating rhythmically inside, and pulsating even more steadily than did Miss Cook’s heart when she allowed me to try a similar experiment after the séance. Tested in the same way, Katie’s lungs were found to be sounder than her medium’s, for at the time I tried the experiment Miss Cook was under medical treatment for a severe cough.”

The ethereal or spiritual body is an exact counterpart of the material one, and through the process of full materialization this ethereal body absorbs the energies and elements concentrated in the cabinet, and for a time takes on a nature very similar to that of our own physical bodies. Under conditions where there is not enough psychic stuff or radiant matter present for manifestations of this nature, artists and sculptors of the next dimension create, out of that which is at their command, replicas of the living ethereal entities. These replicas do not, of course, speak; are usually half-size, and very often, although clearly recognizable, somewhat distorted. Further than this I cannot at present comprehend the process. My experiments have been limited, but I hope to delve deeply into this phase at some future time when I shall be privileged to experiment in my own home through the unfoldment of our own powers.

At most, I can only repeat at this writing that Materialization is an absolute fact, and when the conditions are good, personalities of the higher realms stand before us radiant and alive. There are many who have learned, through their own investigations, that these things are true.

A Personal Experience of Materialization

By Roy Dixon-Smith

Materialization is a wonderful display of concentrated group-mind power, in that the whole period of growth from the conception to maturity of the physical body is represented and condensed into a moment or two; miraculous as it may seem to be, it is only the bodybuilding property of the group mind, incorporated in every individual psyche, set automatically in rapid motion by its association with responsive ultra-physical protoplasmic matter.
My own experiences now follow.

As the result of a letter from me appealing for experience of genuine materialization that was published in the Psychic News of 10th July, 1948, I made the acquaintance of a Mr and Mrs Patterson of Buckie. They said that a professional materialization medium, well known in Spiritualistic circles and whom I shall call Mrs ‘D’, was visiting their home for the week-end 31st July to 1st August, and they invited me to stay with them. To show that their motives were purely altruistic, I would add that I was accommodated in their home, given generous and free hospitality, and even my offer to pay my fair share of the medium’s fees was refused. The notes from which the account is composed were made immediately after each sitting, and were supplemented by notes made independently by Mrs Patterson and a Miss Cronjé who, being present throughout, witnessed all the phenomena described. It was Miss Cronjé who answered my letter and arranged my introduction to the Pattersons, and so I have her to thank primarily for my experiences at Buckie.

Saturday, 31st July.
The weather was very hot, to the great discomfort of the medium, but she was in a home that she liked visiting and so the conditions were mentally harmonious. I had plenty of time to get to know her before the séance opened, and I succeeded in establishing cordial relations between us, which has an important bearing on séance results as every investigator should know. For obvious reasons, I shall have to bring out the very great contrast between her appearance and that of Betty (my “dead” wife), and so I apologize for the personal remarks involved.

Mrs. ‘D’ is extremely stout, her features in no way resemble Betty’s, her hands accord with her build and with one who has had to work with them, her hair is of a different colour, texture, and quantity, she is some three or four inches shorter; her age is around the fifty mark. Her voice is rather deep and her accent broadly Scottish. It would, in fact, be impossible to imagine a greater contrast in personal appearance and characteristics than that existing between Mrs ‘D’ and Betty.

Even if Betty herself had been available as a model, the greatest make-up expert with every convenience and material and device at his disposal, including dim lighting and cheesecloth draperies, could not have produced the least resemblance between them; moreover, could any character actress ever born play the part of someone entirely unknown to her with such skill as to deceive the individual’s own husband? I needed, therefore, no tests and no gadgets to protect myself from deception through impersonation, and was quite content to rely on my normal powers of recognition of Betty, should she appear, just as anyone would be who anticipated meeting a close relation or friend in person.

My host and hostess, Mr and Mrs Patterson, are now included amongst my personal friends. I have visited them on a number of occasions since that about to be described, and I know them thoroughly for what they are. They are in no way interested in Mrs ‘D’s’ professional career, but genuine friendly folk who sought only to help me to get the experience I asked for and got. Having two ‘dead’ children of their own, they are just as anxious as I am to avoid any fraud or deception. The others present were all members of the Patterson’s home circle and people of exactly the same mentality. The medium was alone, and thus had no accomplices to help her. The house is a typical smallish modern one, as devoid of trapdoors and sliding panels, subterranean passages, and so forth, as are all its type. The black curtains used were plain cloth ones belonging to Mrs Patterson and I helped her hang them up.

I had taken out with me a dark red rose from my garden, and Betty’s wedding-ring. A few months previously, I had had a Dee pearl in a clasp setting added to the ring, which thus entirely removed its resemblance to a wedding-ring. Mrs Patterson put the rose in a vase amongst other flowers, and the medium’s attention was not directed to it.

Just before the séance commenced, Mrs Patterson took the rose out of the vase and placed it on the edge of the sideboard adjacent to the curtain. The sitters, all old personal and local friends of the Pattersons, took their places, two standing behind the chairs as indicated. I was given chair number one in the hope that any visitor for me would appear through the right edge of the curtain and thus be very close to me. Mr Patterson locked the door and put the key on the sideboard in full view of us all. The other door was shut and I jammed my chair up against it. The medium took her seat and drew the black curtains together, and someone then switched on the red lamp and switched off the others.

After a minute or two, a male voice (referred to hereafter as ‘the guide’) addressed the circle and introduced the figures before they emerged from behind the curtains. All the figures were swathed from head to foot in what looked like white muslin robes with cowls, the faces and hands being dimly visible and the features barely distinguishable in the feeble light. These draperies were opaque and not self-luminous, and I saw the shadow of my head cast on them whenever I bent to my left and thereby intercepted the light from the red lamp.

The first few visitors were for other sitters. They spoke clearly, naturally, and intelligently, and were apparently recognized; each only lasted for about a minute, sinking swiftly to the floor as he or she withdrew within the curtains. The guide then said, “I have a lady here. Will the gentleman by the door please call her out’; so I said, “Please come out”.

 A tall slim figure thereupon emerged from the left edge of the curtains, stretched out a hand, picked up my rose, crossed the floor to my chair, walking outside the curtains and in full view of the circle, and threw the rose on my lap. I stood up to peer into the face dimly seen in the enveloping ‘cowl’, whereupon Mrs Patterson exclaimed, “Don’t touch her!”

The figure at once drew back towards the curtains and said in a voice and accent exactly resembling Betty’s, “He won’t do that. He knows better.” There was a momentary pause, and the figure then said, “I want to show you this.”

A hand which we all saw to be long and slim was then put up to the head, the white material pushed back from the forehead, and a mass of black hair revealed. The figure, whose appearance I estimate to have lasted about a minute, then seemed to vanish through the floor.

A number of other figures of various types and sizes, about a dozen in all, made similar appearances; I cannot, of course, comment on the evidence of identity they furnished.

The height and slimness of the figure and the nature of the hand could not by any stretch of imagination be reconciled with Mrs ‘D’s’. There was nothing, of course, to prove that the hair was or was not a wig that the medium had concealed about her person; so, not having been able to recognize my visitor’s face, I was not convinced that it was Betty.

A very old lady, said to be the grandmother of one of the sitters, appeared from the right edge of the curtain within a few inches from me, and I had a clear close-up view of her wrinkled face and small shrunken figure that again were very different from the medium’s. Earlier in the proceedings, the guide had asked if anyone had a torch; unfortunately no torch was available.

After the séance was over, the normal lights on, and the medium restored to full consciousness, she said to me as I stood close to her by the fireplace, “Did your wife have long slim tapering fingers with oval almond-shaped nails?” I replied in the affirmative, and Mrs ‘D’ continued with a perfect detailed description of Betty’s distinctive hands, one of which she said she saw clairvoyantly on my shoulder.

Sunday 1^st August
A sea mist had rolled up overnight which reduced the temperature and improved Mrs ‘D’s’ temperamental and physical conditions. The séance room was arranged as before, and I was given a chair in the centre of the circle. I had in my pocket, unknown to anyone, the wedding ring with the pearl. After the medium was seated the black curtains drawn together, and the room illuminated only by the red lamp, I rose from my chair and placed the ring silently on the edge of the sideboard where the rose had previously been. No one could see what I had put there, but all, except the medium, had watched my actions. Next to the ring was a hand-torch which had been procured earlier in the day by disturbing the Sabbath rest of a local shopkeeper.

As soon as the guide had spoken, one of the sitters asked him to show himself beside the medium. The guide then said, “Stand up, Mrs ‘D’,” at the same time pulling the curtains aside. We all saw him, an enormous white figure apparently about seven feet tall standing beside the medium in her black dress. Thoughts of broomstick and cheesecloth no doubt will enter some readers’ minds; the guide, however, looked perfectly human and Mrs ‘D’, I am sure, could not have concealed on her person a broomstick plus the other properties required to make such a realistic guy. I can vouch for the fact that the curtains had no pockets in them and that there was nothing behind them save Mrs ‘D’ and her chair. In any case, such musings are valueless in the light of what followed, and I only mentioned them to show that I had not got my mouth wide open and my wits closed by wishful thinking.

After a few visitors had come and gone, the guide asked the sitters to sing, “I’ll Walk Beside You” which, as the reader now knows, is Betty’s ‘signature tune’. At the close of the song, the same slim figure as before emerged from the left edge of the curtain, groped for the ring and, in doing so, knocked the torch off the sideboard on to the floor. This seemed to agitate the figure, and she exclaimed in the same familiar voice and accent, “I can’t get it”.

I rose up to help her, but Mrs Patterson, who was nearer the sideboard, anticipated me, put her hand on the spot, felt the ring, and handed it to the figure. The figure, whom in view of the proof to come I shall now call ‘Betty’, said: “Thank you. It’s my wedding-ring.”

She stepped across to me outside the curtains and in full view of all the sitters as before. I was still standing up, and I put out my left hand palm upwards to receive the ring. Sensing her agitation I told her to keep calm, and she replied, “I’m all right”. She then slipped the ring on to my little finger, and it went down as far as the first joint, being too small to go any farther. I felt the touch of her fingers as she put it on, and they were warm and seemed as normal in all respects as any physical ones.

“Don’t give it to our daughter until she is seventeen or eighteen or she won’t know the value of it,” said Betty to me.

Thereupon she withdrew within the curtains saying, ‘I want to show you my face. Stay where you are.”

In the meanwhile, the sitter by the sideboard had picked up the torch, and the guide, extending his hand from the left edge of the curtain, said ‘‘Give me the torch,’’ and took it from the hand of the sitter.

When Betty and the guide were inside the ‘cabinet’, the guide said to her, “Do you mind if I do something to you? I’m going to turn on this light. Don’t be afraid. It won’t burn you. You’ll he quite safe.”

The voice of Betty then replied, eagerly and emotionally, ‘You can do anything you like. I don’t mind what you do so long as Roy sees my face.”

The light of the torch then appeared behind the curtains and Betty, emerging from the centre with the torch in her left hand, shone it for about fifteen seconds full on and close up to her face. It was a new and powerful torch and her face was brilliantly illuminated. I was standing up within a few inches of Betty’s form, and I peered closely into her face which was on a level with my own. My critical faculties dominated my emotion as I took in every detail of the features; yet it was not till the following day that the full wonder and joy of this experience came over me.

The white muslin-like ectoplasm covered her head, extending well down the forehead and just clear of the eyes which were closed against the glare of the torch. It was draped round her face, over her ears, and round her neck just under the chin. Her complexion was clear and smooth like a young girl’s, the cheeks pink-tinted as if well made-up and the lips red. Her nose and mouth were exactly the same as her late earthly ones and totally unlike the medium’s. Her lips were closed and she had a half-smile and a characteristic expression. Her head was held slightly back and the exposed chin was clean cut, not double like the medium’s; to me it seemed to be rather too square, a point that will be cleared up below. The guide from behind the curtain drew special attention to this point, asking the sitters to “note the squareness of the chin”, so different from that of the medium, thus emphasizing what at first I thought to be a fault in the materialization but which, in reality, was a fault of my own memory. With the reservation of the moulding of the chin, I declared at the close of the séance my recognition of Betty’s face.

Having shown me her face, Betty lowered the torch and withdrew within the curtains, at the same time raising her right arm and extending the fingers of her right hand.

“Look! Do you see this?” she exclaimed.

For a few seconds the slim arm and hand, so utterly unlike Mrs ‘D’s’ and exactly like Betty’s, remained outside the curtains and were clearly visible to the whole circle as they stood out in perfect silhouette against the black background. She then vanished downwards in full view of us all, sinking apparently through the floor, and the torch went out and was heard to fall with a crash on the ground.

When I got back to Aberdeen, still slightly dissatisfied in my meticulous mind with the single item of the moulding of the chin, I consulted a photograph album and saw from numerous photos of Betty that her chin was square rather than oval, and that the materialized chin was thus quite true to type. I selected one large Polyphoto in which her lips were similarly closed, the same half-smile appeared, and the expression exactly tallied with that seen at the séance. I then draped a white handkerchief round the face to represent the ectoplasm and put my finger-tips on the eyes to give the effect of their being closed; thereupon I saw the identical counterpart of the materialized face, and so full satisfaction came at last.

In order to realize what a disguise these ectoplasmic wrappings can be, I suggest that the reader carries out the following little experiment. Ask someone with ordinary features whom you know very well to reproduce with a white cloth or towel the effects described above, and then in a dark room to shine a torch for fifteen seconds on his or her face with the eyes shut. Then follow up with a test like mine on a photograph of your friend. The results will speak for themselves.

As regards the other materialized forms that appeared at these two séances, they varied in size from the gigantic guide to a little child of about two years old, the identified daughter of my hostess, who showed her tiny hands in all their perfection of form and sang a nursery song in a baby voice. Forms great and small, young and old, male and female, showed their varied and appropriate physical features and personal characteristics, and also satisfied their friends in the circle of their identities through their conversations.

In the séance just described, most of the visitors, perhaps taking their cue from Betty, made a point of displaying their widely differing hands. In every case and in all respects the materialized individuals were perfectly natural. All the voices sounded characteristic and came out of the individual’s own mouths as evidenced by their movements about the room. They walked in the usual way, laughed and chatted like the ordinary people they were; there was nothing in the least eerie about them, and I felt no touch of nervousness nor even strangeness whatsoever. The complete normality of the whole proceedings was, to me, one of its most marked features – it was just a gathering of friends in which the draperies worn by the visitors was the only incongruity. As regards the latter, in rare cases of materialization where conditions are ideal, all the ectoplasm is used up in the figure and its hair and replicas of ordinary earthly clothes are worn, and thus recognition is greatly facilitated (see There Is No Death, by Florence Marryat).

The love that prompted Betty’s disregard of the possible painful effects of the bright light on the ectoplasm will always stand out in my mind; for there was real danger of pain, since materialized people while in their temporary physical bodies can feel pain and experience all their former earthly reactions to physical effects and the anticipation thereof.

Speech combined with materialization is very rarely possible, since the ‘power’ is generally used up in the forming of the figure; that is why materialized people can say so little, and the more they talk the shorter the time their forms can last.

I have given you all the facts in all their detailed truthfulness. I can see no possible loophole for faking in the proceedings described, for this to my mind would entail a performance far more marvellous than true materialization itself. The individual who, after experiences such as these and those that follow, still declares that survival is unproved, will never be convinced this side of death, and it is futile to argue with him.
*************************************************************************************************************************
About this time I received another letter in response to my insertion in the Psychic News. It was from a Mr Shipman in a town in Yorkshire, who said that they had full materializations in their own home circle which consisted of relatives and close friends of whom one was the medium and a non-professional; that there was thus no question of fees or any expenses whatsoever and that I would be welcome to attend one of their séances. As I had decided to go to London for the early part of October, 1 replied accepting their very kind invitation, and arranged to break the return journey and to visit them on 9th October.

I had a private sitting with Mr Flint, the direct voice medium, on 5th October. Conditions were not very good and Betty’s voice was an intermittent barely audible whisper. She introduced, unprompted, a reference to her materialization, and I then produced from my pocket the wedding-ring with the pearl and held it up in the pitch dark, asking her if she saw what I had in my hand. She replied that she couldn’t quite distinguish it. I then asked her for some details about her materialization, and the following conversation ensued:

BETTY: You saw me in the light.

SELF: Yes, but what light?

BETTY: A bright light.

SELF: Yes, but what sort of light?

BETTY: A torch. I held it in my hand and showed you my face.

SELF: Quite correct, and you did something else that concerns something I am holding in my hand. What is it?

BETTY: It’s something I used to wear. I was wearing it at my death. I asked you to wear it.

SELF: Quite right, except that you didn’t ask me to wear this one, Betty, because I couldn’t. Can you tell me what it is? Try and remember because it is an outstanding item and you couldn’t have forgotten it.

BETTY: It’s a ring.

SELF: Good, but with what special significance?

BETTY: It’s my wedding-ring. I put it on your finger.

SELF: Very good, Betty. I’ve got it at last. Why is your memory so bad?

BETTY: It’s not my memory, but these questions start the medium guessing and so it makes my mind all confused.

I should mention that the medium was not in trance and so was listening. The conversation included other matters not connected with the materialization that were quite unknown to the medium and were volunteered spontaneously. She discussed the photographs published in this book and approved strongly of their inclusion, adding quite correctly, that I had hesitated about it. She also described them both accurately, showing a knowledge that mine was taken in uniform.

On the afternoon of 9th October I was met at the station by Mr Shipman. He took me in his car to his home where I found that a bedroom had been placed at my disposal, and I was entertained freely and most hospitably for the weekend.

They knew nothing whatever about me and had never heard of me (and vice-versa) until after my letter had appeared in the paper. The house was of the same general type as the one at Buckie, my host and his friends likewise business and professional people of the same outlook and social background. The circle whom I met that evening consisted of Mr and Mrs Shipman, the parents of Mrs Shipman, Mrs Harrison the medium, who is an intimate friend of the Shipmans and a short and somewhat plump middle-aged lady bearing not the least resemblance to Betty, her son and daughter-in-law, and a well-known local doctor. I mention all these details to show how utterly preposterous and ridiculous would be any suggestion of fraud, even had it been possible to produce thereby the results described.

My letter in the Psychic News said that I wanted these experiences to include in a book, and thus that anyone who might give them to me would, in a way, probably be rendering a public service; and that is why they answered my plea, but they insisted, quite naturally, on my not disclosing their address to avoid being pestered by curiosity-mongers and others. For evidential reasons I revealed no details of my private life before the séance was over, and for the same reason they would have refused to have listened to them, since they were just as anxious as I for genuine evidence.

The room in which the séance was held is much the same as the one at Buckie except that there is only one door, that being in the same relative position to the ‘cabinet’ and sitters as the window is in the Buckie house, while the mantelpiece is alongside and on the right of the corner that contained the cabinet. The cabinet in this case consisted of a single black curtain which I helped to hang up myself across the corner of the room; it enclosed a space barely big enough to hold the medium on her chair. The light during the séance was a bright red electric light bulb in a bowl suspended from the centre of the ceiling. The room throughout the materializations was thus brightly illuminated and the forms and their faces clearly seen. The circle of chairs was arranged close up to and blocking the door, and thus a little farther from the cabinet than at Buckie. The door was locked and the séance then commenced

The first phase was ‘direct voice’ in the dark through a luminous-banded trumpet (better called megaphone) which darted about the room, sometimes high in the air, and often accompanying the singing like a conductor’s baton. The trumpet hovered in front of the sitter to be addressed, and the voices came through, all being quite loud but some difficult to understand while others were perfectly clear. The circle guide, speaking through the trumpet, then gave an excellent description of Betty, remarking on her height, slimness, and beauty; all being facts unknown to anyone present except myself. Betty then attempted to speak to me; after prolonged and seemingly painful effort and a few exclamations to the effect that she couldn’t do it, she managed to say, “I am your Betty”.

During this phase, large pink carnations were apported into the room, one being dropped on each sitter’s lap including mine. They were quite fresh and moist as if with dew. There were no flowers of this type previously in the room, or, so my host told me, anywhere else in the house. The medium all the while had been sitting with the rest of us in the circle and was not in trance.

At the close of this phase, which seemed to me to last about a quarter of an hour, the red light was switched on, the medium took her seat behind the curtain, and the materializations commenced, of which there were about half a dozen in all.

I was introduced to each one of them in turn, all being deceased friends and close relatives of the sitters and thus thoroughly well known to them. I rose from my chair, walked up to them and shook them by the hand, and we made conventional remarks to each other just exactly as everyone does when first meeting a stranger. They were swathed in white muslin-like draperies and cowls that were the exact replicas of those worn by the forms in the Buckie séance. They were solid, natural and, except for their apparel, exactly like ordinary living people. In fact, had everyone been dressed similarly, it would have been quite impossible to distinguish these materialized forms from the rest of the company. Their hands felt perfectly natural and life-like in every respect and their handgrips were very firm. They smiled, laughed, and chatted to me and the others; all their features, complexions, and expressions being perfectly clear in that ample light.

I repeat (and surely I cannot be more explicit) they were exactly like you or me in muslin draperies, and they behaved as we would behave if we dropped in amongst a circle of friends and relations plus one stranger for a few minutes’ visit, and they were welcomed accordingly and just as naturally and unemotionally as we would be. There were mutual cheery good-byes as they departed, sinking apparently through the floor in precisely the same manner as the forms at Buckie.

My introduction to the first of them was “Come and meet Aunt Gladys” (the sister of the medium), and she was most charming and vivacious as she offered me her hand and smiled and chatted to me. Then came ‘Grannie’, and as I was presented to her the doctor said to me “Feel her pulse”. The old lady chuckled, extended her arm, made some humorous remark about ‘mucking her about’ or something to that effect, and I pressed my fingers into her wrist. All the sinews were there and the wrist felt and looked absolutely natural; the beat of the pulse was strong and regular.

“Now feel her feet,” said the doctor; and I bent down and felt the foot that the laughing old lady extended from her long draperies. It felt rather spongy or woolly and was apparently about to dissolve, for just after that the old lady bade us farewell and vanished.

Then came a man with a twisted face drawn down rather grotesquely on the right side, as a consequence of which he could only mumble incoherently. I was introduced to him by name, and as I shook his hand my host explained, “He always comes like this. He died of a stroke”.

I cannot remember the next two or three visitors very clearly, but what I have said of the others applies equally to them; and by then the slight feeling of oddity at this amazing experience had left me, for it was all so absolutely natural. They all differed drastically in face, figure, voice, and mannerism, and in every case their eyes were open; while, of course, the movements of their features as they laughed and talked by itself disposes of the suggestion of a set of masks, should the most unreasonable of sceptics have such an idea in mind, and should he also have such a strange opinion of human nature as to imagine that anyone would lavish free hospitality on a stranger for the sole satisfaction of tricking him.

The guide then announced the coming of Betty and asked us to sing one of her favourite songs. We sang “I’ll Walk Beside You”, in the middle of which a tall slim figure emerged from the curtain and stood silently in view.

I rose from my chair and walked up to the figure, taking the extended hand in mine. I examined the hand, and it was just like Betty’s and quite unlike the medium’s. I stared into the face, and recognized my wife. We spoke to each other, though what we said I cannot remember, for I was deeply stirred and so was she and her voice was incoherent with emotion.

“Can he kiss you?” someone asked, and Betty murmured, “Yes”. I then kissed her on the lips which were warm, soft, and natural.
Thereupon she bent her head and commenced to weep, and in a moment or two she sank. I watched her form right down to the level of the floor at my feet where it dissolved, the last wisp of it being drawn within the cabinet.

After I had resumed my seat, there was a pause, perhaps to allow me to recover some of my lost composure; and then the circle guide announced another visitor for me, giving the name “John Fletcher”, and saying that he was a clergyman who had been helping to inspire my book. A tall black-bearded figure then appeared, and when I reached him he gave my hand a very powerful hearty grip, expressed his delight at this meeting between us and my realization at last of his own reality, discussed the book with me, declared that the work was now complete, bade me a cordial farewell, and vanished in the usual manner.

If I once doubted the existence of guides, how can I do so now?

I have told my tale baldly, without any dramatizing or sentimental frills; it must surely be a pathetically warped mind which cannot supply such omissions from its own imagination.

Hannen Swaffer’s Home Circle

by

A.W. Austen

My first contact with Hannen Swaffer’s home circle was in 1932, when I attended as a visitor on the same night that Frank Decker, the American physical medium, was invited to attend.

That was a big night for me, because White Shadow asked me to join the circle, and for all of us, because it was Decker’s visit that paved the way to our own development of the direct voice.

Some psychic gifts seem, to some extent, “infectious”. There must, of course, be the psychic power latent, but sometimes a fillip is given to its development by contact with a medium possessing the same gift.

Dennis Bradley “caught” the direct voice from Valiantine;  we “caught” it from Decker.

We had both the direct voice and materialization phenomena that night, Decker’s mediumship, of course, being responsible.

We were sitting quietly in the darkness when suddenly Decker’s guide, White Eagle, gave his “war cry”.

It was so loud and sudden we all nearly jumped out of our skins and the wires of the piano vibrated.

Later, Patsy, another of Decker’s guides, shouted out, “Good night.”

I felt a materialized hand laid upon mine and, at the same time, Decker said he saw clairvoyantly the word “Test”. He wondered what it meant.

White Shadow explained that White Eagle intended the materialized hand to be a test for “the man who writes for the paper”.

He could not speak, as he was not controlling the medium, so he had caused the word to be seen clairvoyantly.

At this sitting, Decker told us that we had latent the power for developing direct voice mediumship.

We asked White Shadow about it and he agreed and encouraged us to try to develop it.

With his permission, we started sitting with trumpets on the floor in the centre of the circle. Within eight months, we heard the direct voice independently of the trumpet.

Then, six weeks after Decker visited us again, the trumpet was used and longer talks in the direct voice were possible.

When I joined the circle, we had two good trance mediums, used by White Shadow and Silver Birch. Gradually, as the physical phenomena developed, Silver Birch took the place of White Shadow as the teacher, while the other medium was used more and more for direct voice.

Both spirits, though they claimed to be simple “savages” – later communications have convinced us that they are really highly evolved spirits, using the astral bodies of the Indians as “mediums” – were most eloquent.

Their language would put any earthly orator to shame. But, as White Shadow’s medium could be used better as the “focal point” of the direct voice, Silver Birch became the teacher.

It was explained to us that all the sitters and their guides had been carefully chosen by the spirit people.

For over two years they had been working for a perfect circle, one in which all the sitters and all the guides would blend in harmony.

At last they were satisfied they had got it. Each sitter brought some necessary power for the phenomena; each guide and spirit helper had some special task.

Gradually the sitters would develop their mediumistic gifts. Each had some special work in front of him.

The guides took us into their confidence, told us what they had to do and encouraged us to question them about their work.

Their descriptions were supplemented by those who could see the spirits at work.

We began to learn psychic laws and cooperation reached a fine point.

For weeks before we heard the direct voice we saw the trumpet moved in graceful motions in all directions.

The guides told us the voice was nearly ready.

“We have had rehearsals,” they said. “We can make the voices all right, but we cannot make them heard in your world.”

On that first night, we heard just a few words.

The guide spoke from the floor, from near the ceiling, from positions all over the circle, but mostly from the floor.

He said it was easier to speak from there. The voice did not come through the trumpet, though this was moved with perfect control.

Each sitter was gently touched by the trumpet, in the order we asked, and one of us felt a materialized hand.

The guides had never used the vocal cords of the medium, even in trance.

They said there was healing power in her voice and if they used her cords that property might be impaired.

They used vocal cords of their own construction. When Anny Ahlers, the actress, controlled the medium a few weeks after her death, she complained that it was very difficult because White Shadow would not let her use the medium’s vocal cords.

The materialization phenomena grew as the direct voice developed. The father of White Shadow’s medium was able to materialize his hands sufficiently to make, for evidence, the loud clicking noise peculiar to his habit during earth life, and strum on the wall in his accustomed manner.

The favourite dog of one of the sitters was sometimes materialized and we heard its tail wagging against the leg of a chair.

A pet cat scratched at the carpet and a bird which the medium had taken into shelter when she found it injured used to materialize and fly about the room.

Often ornaments were moved from a high mantelshelf and were found after the sitting in the middle of the circle.

We often felt materialized hands.

One of the guides must have been huge – he told us that on the earth he was over seven feet tall, which was corroborated by the medium’s clairvoyant vision – for I would sometimes feel both my ankles grasped in one large hand. We heard the heavy tread of the guides going about the room and one of them, for our amusement, repeated a dance he used on earth, chanting, while he did it, an Indian tune which was always played for that particular dance.

At one sitting I shook hands with my “dead” sister, who passed on at the age of seven about twelve years before. I had been told that she acted as my guide, and I had had various messages from her, but this was the first occasion on which she had spoken directly to me. She controlled White Shadow’s medium in trance and spoke so quietly we could hardly hear what she said. She asked me to stretch out my hand towards the medium and she grasped it with her own – one she had manufactured out of ectoplasm.

She told us that trance control was very difficult as White Shadow would not allow the vocal cords to be used. Usually, cords were made of ectoplasm for the spirits’ use, but in her case, she told us, a different system had been specially arranged. By some method of using compressed air – we would not have understood, she said, even if she were able to explain it exhaustively – she was able to make her voice heard without using any vocal cords.

At this sitting, one of the guides explained to us that the circle was formed as much for the “dead” as for the living. Many in the spirit world, it was said, are held back by their desire to communicate with their friends on this side of the veil.

Until they are able to do this, their advance is impeded. We were also told something of the difficulties experienced by the guides.

Before any new phenomenon was introduced, consideration had to be given to the mental reactions of the sitters, for on that depended, to a large extent, the psychic power that was available.

Frank Decker sat with us again in 1933 – about nine months after his first visit – and a few weeks later our own trumpet was used for the direct voice.

When Decker was there, one of the guides was speaking to us through a trance medium and we were surprised suddenly to hear Patsy, Decker’s newspaper-boy guide, announce himself in the direct voice.

Later on, Patsy sang two songs, White Eagle, another of Decker’s guides, spoke to us and White Shadow had a talk with his medium.

This was the first time she had heard White Shadow speak, as always before she was in trance when he manifested.

We saw wonderful control of the trumpet at this sitting, Patsy taking it all round the circle at lightning speed.

The whizzing trumpet came so near to us that we felt a distinct breeze as it went by, but no one was touched by it.

Then, a few weeks later, after Decker had gone back to America and we had no outside help, we experienced our first voice through our own trumpet.

It had taken three years of constant sittings to reach this stage and that voice gave us all a thrill.

Only one word was spoken.

The spirit merely announced her name – it was ‘Lottie’, Hannen Swaffer’s “dead” sister-in-law – but it showed that our own direct voice phenomena had started.

At the next sitting, a guide said two or three words to his medium.

The next time there were seven voices, and so it went on, gradually improving until we were able to hold long, sustained conversations directly with those living in another world, hearing their own voices speaking to us and giving us evidence of their continued existence.

At first the voices were weak, though each was distinctive, and the “personality” spread even to the movements of the trumpet.

In many cases, we were able to tell who was about to speak by the way in which the trumpet was moved.

One guide always traced in the air the letter “S”, the initial of his name.

Another always made peculiar movements which suggested the name by which he was known.

One spirit, the father of White Shadow’s medium, always tapped the trumpet with his fingers before speaking, recalling an earthly habit as a means of identification.

Each of the regular communicators had a special way of introducing himself before the voice was heard.

In the early stages of the direct-voice phenomena, White Shadow’s medium was in trance. The communicating spirits seemed to get additional power from her for, after leaving the floor, the trumpet would always move towards her before a voice was heard.

Later, she was sometimes able to hear the voices while she remained out of trance.

Within the first month of hearing our first voice, we had talks with four of the guides of the circle, the father and sister of White Shadow’s medium, the mother, father and brother of the medium’s husband, Hannen Swaffer’s sister- in-law, my sister, Hall Caine, Gilbert Parker and Lord Northcliffe, Swaffer’s former “Chief” in the newspaper world.
There once occurred at our circle an incident that should warn all home circles who are sitting for physical phenomena.

One of the sitters, a trusted member of the circle, interfered with the phenomena, with the result that the trumpet medium’s health was endangered and all physical phenomena were stopped for weeks.

Again and again, the sitters had been warned not to touch the trumpet, the materializations or any of the phenomena made tangible to them, without the permission of the guides.

For several weeks, the guides had been experimenting with materializations and with the movement of various objects in the room. Unknown to the rest of us, one of the sitters interfered with the phenomena.

The medium’s coat had been taken from her, and moved round the room by spirit agency.

We were surprised to hear the voice of White Shadow, the chief guide, speaking through his medium in trance, telling us that one of the sitters, whom he named, had snatched this coat, with serious effect on his medium.

He said it was “most lamentable.” His medium would wake up very cold, and must go straight to bed. He would bring a spirit healer to try to repair the damage she had sustained.

When White Shadow had gone, the medium came out of trance, sobbing and groaning, obviously in great pain. She spent a night in agony, and found the next morning bruises near her solar plexus.

As White Shadow said, “Each one of you is entrusted with the power of the Great Spirit. None of you can play with it.”

The following week, there were no physical phenomena and no voices were heard through the trumpet. The trumpet medium had not fully recovered from the effects of the previous sitting. She still had bruises as a result.

During the sitting, as well as for a few hours before, she felt pain. Two other members of the circle also complained of pain in the region of the solar plexus, which suggests that the power for the physical phenomena was drawn from other sitters as well as from this medium.

“You are not to worry about things that have passed,” a guide told us. “We must go on with that which we have to do. Remember the great purpose which calls us all together. Remember that we work for the Great Spirit.

All the power and all the love that we have must be used to build up this temple, from which there will radiate a light and a force that will enable many who are sad to find comfort. That work cannot be stopped, because it is part of the work of the Great Spirit.”

At this and following sittings, the remaining members of the circle – the one who interfered did not come any more – had to link hands. That meant I was unable to take notes. Once, when messages of some importance were given, White Shadow was asked whether I could break the link to make notes.

The guide would not allow that, but promised that when his medium was coming out of trance, and the red light was on, he would tell her what were the messages and she would repeat them. This he did, and I was able to take notes of the messages I wanted.

Then, about a month after the interference, we had the first signs of the return of the physical phenomena. There were no voices, but the trumpet left the floor several times. One of the sitters twice saw a psychic rod connecting the trumpet with the medium. There were, also, partial materializations. And an ornament was moved by a spirit hand.

An interesting incident occurred at this sitting, when we were sitting at the table, which we always used at the beginning of the séances. We were discussing a play, the name of which all the sitters had forgotten. The table suddenly started spelling out a word. It got as far as “Scricti . . . “, and then one of the circle remembered the name of the play that was being discussed. It was “Strictly Dishonourable”.

The trumpet and materialization phenomena returned in time and we went on from strength to strength until a crisis came in the history of the circle.

Owing to a personal disagreement among some sitters, one in no way connected with psychic matters and which is now forgotten and forgiven, the circle was reconstructed.

Four of the original members, including the medium of Silver Birch, remained, and two others joined us. The venue of the sittings was changed. At our first séance after the change a fairly heavy table was tilted after we had been sitting for about ten minutes.

With the reconstruction of the circle, and the consequent loss of our trumpet medium, we lost for a considerable period the majority of our physical phenomena and the work of the circle became to a large extent the reception of teaching from the spirit guide Silver Birch.

But there was an occasional slight outburst of physical mediumship, as for instance when Dr. Carl Wickland attended one of our sittings with Mrs Nellie Watts, his secretary.

“Your little lady is here,” Silver Birch said – Wickland’s wife had recently passed on – She is happy, but she is not as happy as she will be. She puts her arm on your shoulder and she puts her other arm on yours” – this was to Mrs Watts – “and she stands between you and says that even death cannot separate you.”

“I can feel her touching me,” said the doctor.

Sir Oliver Lodge and the Direct Voice

 H. Dennis Bradley writes here about Sir Oliver Lodge’s first experience of the Independent Direct Voice. The medium was George Valiantine.

Friday, February 27, 1925.

This sitting was held in my study at Dorincourt at about eight forty-five p.m. In accordance with the usual procedure, none of the sitters were introduced to the medium, Valiantine.

Mr Valiantine sat in my study, and those who were present walked straight in when the lights were turned off within a few seconds.

There were present Sir Oliver Lodge, Admiral Wilfred Henderson, Mr Lionel Corbett, Mrs Bovill, my wife, and myself.

It may be presumed that Valiantine would know Sir Oliver Lodge, since his portrait has appeared in so many papers, but he was not introduced, neither did Valiantine know any of the names of the other sitters.

Although my study is well warmed by central heating, during a séance the atmosphere often changes and the room becomes quite cold.

I therefore advised the sitters to take in wraps with them, and Sir Oliver Lodge took in and wore a fur coat.

The two luminous trumpets were placed in the centre of the room.

The conditions appeared to be very good.

During the time the first four records were played on the gramophone, many of the sitters were touched on knee, hands or head, by what may be presumed to be materialized hands.

The first voice to be heard was that of Dr Barnett, speaking in deep clear tones, close to the floor, in the centre of the circle. He gave us a greeting

A little later the loud tones of Kokum were heard speaking, whilst a gramophone record was being played.

During the evening, from high up in the room, there came the shrill voice of Bert Everett, who also spoke with us on two or three occasions later. Hawk Chief, on request, gave a penetrating whoop. Pat O’Brien, in his rich Irish brogue, carried on a conversation with Sir Oliver Lodge.

Bobby Worrall talked with us and with two or three of the sitters, and referred to watching Pat playing with a toy railway during the day in the nursery.

Feda came through, and spoke with several of the sitters, including Sir Oliver Lodge, and gave her peculiar little laugh.

All these spirits spoke independently, without using the trumpet, and their voices appeared from different parts of the room.

Of the personal spirits, quite early in the evening, we heard an independent voice close to Sir Oliver Lodge, calling: “Father!”

Almost immediately following this, the luminous trumpet was lifted, and taken very close to Sir Oliver, whowas touched on the head and on the body.

The voice then said: “It’s Pat, father!”

And then added, as if announcing himself to us all: “Pat Raymond Lodge.”

Sir Oliver Lodge told us that Raymond was often addressed by the family as “Pat”.

A conversation ensued between Sir Oliver and Raymond on family matters, which lasted for some little time. Names were volunteered by the spirit. Three times during the evening Raymond came through to Sir Oliver Lodge.

An independent voice came through, addressing me, giving full Christian and surnames. This was George, my sister’s young son.

He talked with me and with my wife, and said that he was going to make the endeavour to speak to my son Dennis at Cambridge on the following evening.

After this incident a voice came through, announcing itself as George Hunt, my wife’s father (full Christian and surnames being given), and talked with me and with my wife. He said that he was anxious to have the opportunity of speaking to his wife.

Two individual spirits came through and spoke to Mrs Bovill, and also to Mr Lionel Corbett. These spirits gave full Christian and surnames, and a short personal conversation ensued between them.

Suddenly, in the middle of the sitting, one of the luminous trumpets was lifted, and it was whirled round the circle at a lightning speed. It was then taken up to the ceiling – high up in the air – and the ceiling was rapped.

Towards the end of the sitting, Dr Barnett spoke to us again, and there then ensued between Dr Barnett and Sir Oliver Lodge a long discussion upon the ether.

Sir Oliver Lodge asked questions of Dr Barnett with regard to the make-up of the human body. The manner in which Dr Barnett replied to each of Sir Oliver’s questions was fluent and intelligent.

The discourse went on for over a quarter of an hour. The methods by which spirit communication in the actual voice could be obtained was discussed between them.

Sir Oliver asked whether, on their side, this was a question of the fourth dimension, and Dr. Barnett, giving, as he did several times throughout, his characteristic and stentorian laugh, replied saying that there were several dimensions beyond ours.

Dr Barnett dealt with the various forms of life of humans, animals, trees, plants, and so on, and stated that life survives in every form and that it is impossible to destroy life.

In answer to a question from Mr Lionel Corbett with regard to psychic upheavals, Dr Barnett again gave a very grave warning about the secret preparations of Japan and Germany for war in the air.

On several occasions Dr Barnett has referred to this, and although any forecast is problematic, yet he insists on the point that the next war will be comparatively soon and that it will be the most terrible that human civilization has had to endure.

I referred to the coming sittings we had arranged to give in Tavistock Square to the Society for Psychical Research, and said that I hoped we would get good results, although I was not certain that the conditions there would be entirely satisfactory.

Dr Barnett laughed and said: “We will do our best, but you should ask yourselves whether your intellects are not superior to theirs.”

This, of course, is quite true. As a matter of fact, I, personally, have learnt so much during the last two years of study, with my own mediumship, and with the enormous number of sittings I have had – not only with Valiantine, but with other mediums – that my experience in those two years amounts to more than the whole of the Society for Psychical Research put together for the forty odd years of their existence.

And it must also be borne in mind that present at this sitting was Sir Oliver Lodge, past President of the Society and the greatest scientist in Great Britain.

All those who were present were impressed by the phenomena that had occurred.

I had a chat afterwards with Sir Oliver Lodge, who presses his conviction of spirit communication far more freely and convincingly in conversation than he does in his public writings.

He referred to the communications he had received during recent years from the spirit of F. W. H. Myers.

Since the publication of his excellent book, “Raymond”, he has not, I believe, published any further work on psychical research; his genius has been devoted to the solution of material scientific problems.

In the compilation of “Raymond” Sir Oliver based his evidence of survival chiefly on the communications received through clairvoyant mediums – that is communications made through these mediums’ mouths and lips.

To appreciate the great advance that has been made recently it may be noticed that there is no record whatever in “Raymond” of evidence obtained by the direct and independent voice speaking from space, which is the rarest and most dramatic form of phenomenon yet discovered.

At the time that “Raymond” was published Sir Oliver had, apparently, no persona experience whatever of this form, and, although since that date he has heard the “independent voices”, I gathered from him that his knowledge of “voice” phenomena is extremely limited.

This is not to be wondered at since “voice mediums” are so rare that only a handful are known to the world.

In fact, only a year ago Sir Oliver told me that he did not think the chief research officers of the Society for Psychical Research had ever heard the independent voice.

Footnote by Zerdini: Dennis Bradley’s circle developed the direct voice after sitting with George Valiantine as did Hannen Swaffer’s Circle after sitting with Frank Decker.

Could any Oriental scholar ever sanely dream of sitting at the feet of Confucius, listening to his words of wisdom, and hearing him chant archaic Chinese – a dead language of which only about twelve sounds are definitely known as pronounced 2,500 years ago, and with which only a handful of scholars in the world have acquaintance at all?

Yet this was precisely the adventure which befell Mr. Neville Whymant, a well-known scholar, in New York in October 1926.

Mr. Whymant, who is the master of more than thirty languages, was invited by judge and Mrs. William Cannon to meet, on October 15th, 1926, in their apartment “some people interested in discussing psychical research” and kindly to help interpreting Oriental languages.

Not until they arrived did Mr. Whymant and his wife know that they had accepted an invitation to a spiritualist séance.

They had had no similar experience before and were but little impressed with the personality of George Valiantine, the famous direct-voice medium. “His speech,” writes Mr Whymant in his Psychic Adventures in New York “was far from polished, he seemed to lack imagination … he made amusing blunders in speech … he was, in that company, a fish out of water.”

The room which they were invited to examine appeared to be fool-proof and fake-proof. There was no appearance or suspicion of trickery.

They sat in the dark, said the Lord’s Prayer, played gramophone records, until suddenly voices exploded in the air.

The first one, which proved of scholarly interest, “was roared at full lung force” in pure and clear Italian, and soon dropped into a Sicilian dialect of which Mr. Whymant knew nothing.

After some personal messages to the regular sitters, which made Mr. Whymant feel as an eavesdropper, there came a sound very difficult to describe. It was the sound of an old wheezy flute not too skilfully played.

“Those who have wandered through Chinese streets in the evening will readily recall the sound,” he writes.

“In a few seconds it had carried me back to sights and experiences in the old Celestial Kingdom. In that indefinable fashion known only to those who have sat for some hours on end in pitch darkness waiting for something to happen, I sensed the eager thrill that ran through all the people there gathered as they heard this sound and waited for what was to follow.

“There was a rustling of silks as women straightened themselves in their chairs. There was the sharp intake of breath around the circle, and I noticed at the same moment the heavy, languorous breathing of Valiantine, whose position, directly facing me, I kept in the forefront of my mind.

“The flute-like sound faded, then stopped.

“The next sound seemed to be a hollow repetition of, a Chinese name – K’ung-fu-tzu – the name by which Confucius was canonized.

“I was not quite sure that I had heard aright, but I did recognize the sound for some variety of Chinese speech and so I asked, in Chinese, for another opportunity of hearing what had been said before.

“This time, without any hesitation at all, came the name K’ung-fu-tzu.

“Now, I thought, was my opportunity. Chinese I had long regarded as my own special research area, and he would be a wise man, medium or other, who would attempt to trick me on such soil.

“If this tremulous voice were that of the old ethicist who had personally edited the Chinese Classics, then I had an abundance of questions to ask him.”

As the voice went on Mr. Whymant kept calling for repetitions.

“Then it burst upon me,” he says, “that I was listening to Chinese of a purity and delicacy not now spoken in any part of China … The style … was identical with that of the Chinese Classics, edited by Confucius 2,500 years ago.

“Only among the scholars of archaic Chinese could one now hear that accent and style, and then only when they intoned some passage from the ancient books.”

The language being as dead colloquially as Sanskrit or Latin, Whymant determined to test the matter to the full limit.

He asked for details of Confucius’ life and “style”; for particulars of his preoccupations on this earth, and set some posers of the type with which all students of Chinese have wrestled in their studies of the Confucian Canon.

“All my questions were answered at once, without any pose or fumbling; in fact, the answers came so swiftly upon the question that all too often I had to ask the voice to repeat its answer, as I had been unable to follow.

“The voice grew stronger with the passing of the moments, so that although the early part of the conversation was to some extent lost or doubtful, the succeeding phrases were quite clear so far as I was able to understand them.”

He thought of a supreme test. Several poems in the Shih King – Classic of Poetry – have baffled the commentators ever since Confucius himself edited the work and left it to posterity as a model anthology of early Chinese verse.

Both Western and Chinese classical scholars have long ago given up trying to understand them.

So, using the flowery language of Chinese honorifics, he asked the Master:

“This stupid one would know the correct reading of a verse in the Shih King. It has been hidden from understanding for long centuries, and men look upon it with eyes that are blind. The passage begins thus: Ts’ai ts’ai chuan erh …

“I could certainly not have repeated another line of this poem for I did not know any one of the remaining fifteen lines; but there was no need or even opportunity, for the voice took up the poem at once and recited it to the end.

I was somewhat distracted by people in the circle whispering to each other, “He’s chanting,” or similar remarks, and could not therefore pay full attention to the voice. I had, however, a pad of paper and a pencil, and as well as I was able in the darkness I made notes of what the voice said and jotted down keys to the intonation used. It was necessary, however, to ask the voice to go through the whole thing again, so that I could make my notes as complete as possible.

It is perhaps little to be wondered at if I say that my mind was by this time in a state of turmoil. In declaiming the ode the voice had put a new construction on the verses and made the whole thing hang together as a normal poem. It was, I was told, a psychic poem, and it was well known that the Chinese recognized psychic literature as a thing apart from ordinary literary compositions. “

“‘Read in this way,’ the voice had said, ‘does not its meaning become plain?’

“Surprised as I was, I did not intend to let matters rest there.”

There is a difficult passage in the Lun Yu, or Analects of Confucius, which in the standard version of the book makes no sense at all. But Professor H. A. Giles, of Cambridge, gave it balanced sense by suggesting brilliant textual emendations. The voice had talked now for about ten minutes.

“Shall I ask of one passage in the Master’s own writing ?’ queried Mr. Whymant. “In Lun Yu, Hsia Pien, there is a passage which is wrongly written. Should it not read thus … ?

“But before I could get even the details of the passage in question,” writes Mr. Whymant, “the voice took up my sentence and carried it through to the end … You were going to ask me about the two characters which end the last two phrases; you are quite right. The copyists were in error. The character which is written se should be i, and the character which is written yen is an error for fou.’ Again the wind had been taken out of my sails.”

Whymant had assisted at about a dozen sittings. He heard altogether fourteen foreign languages spoken. They included Chinese, Hindi, Persian, Basque, Sanskrit, Arabic, Portuguese, Italian, Yiddish, German and modern Greek.

He could not find a satisfactory normal explanation.

“Even if the medium had been a first-class linguist, it was manifestly impossible for him to be speaking in Chinese and American English at one and the same time, and yet all the sitters had heard Valiantine carrying on a conversation with his neighbour while other voices – two and three at one time – were speaking foreign languages fluently …

“Voices seemed to come from the far corners of the room, out of the very wall against which the back of one’s chair was pressed, from the ceiling, and from the floor.”

The great Chinese Mystery did not end with Whymant’s departure from New York. In 1927 Valiantine was tested, for the third time, in London.

Countess Ahlefeldt-Laurvig brought an ancient Chinese shell to a sitting in the apartment of Lord Charles Hope.

At the top of the shell circular folds ended in a small hollow mouthpiece.

In China such a shell is used as a horn and is blown on occasions as a “call”.

The sitters tried it, but could produce no sound whatever. Yet at one period, during the sitting, from high up in the room, the shell horn was blown, and the peculiar notes were rendered in the correct Chinese fashion.

Moreover, on March 2nd, 1927, in Lord Charles Hope’s apartment in London, by special arrangement with the Columbia Gramophone Company, the voice of Confucius was recorded. Its curious flute-like tones rose and fell and sometimes broke into a peculiar sing-song tone.

Mr. Whymant, on being invited to hear the record, could only interpret a few sentences because the voice was faint and became blurred in the recording. But he recognized a number of the peculiar intonations. He could gather the meaning of the recorded speech by the tonal values.

The voice was apparently identical with the one he heard in New York.

I do not envy the task of those who would explain this amazing tale by fraud.

Note by Zerdini:

My friend, Eileen E. McAlpine, told me she knew Neville Whymant well in the last years of his life and “I can say with certainty that he never felt any reason to revise his original account of the event.”

“A few days before his passing to spirit, he told me that he had a brief black-out when saw two old friends of his, holding out their hands to receive him. They were Mr F.T. Cheng, the pre-Mao ambassador to the UK and Lionel Giles – keeper of oriental books at the British Museum. They were great friends of his in life.”

“I subsequently had a sitting with F. Jordan Gill, and Neville told me, through him, that they had indeed been the first friends who greeted him after he died.”

Jordan Gill was a medium who I first met at the SAGB in London in the late sixties and I can confirm that he was indeed a first class medium.

“A LITTLE CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM. . .”

This chapter presents Silver Birch in a different light. The reader is acquainted with this guide as a teacher, as a bringer of comfort and encouragement and as a merciless critic of man-made dogma. Now read of his gentleness and simplicity with children. This chapter, written by Paul Miller, is reprinted from “Psychic News”.

TWO little children sat on the knees of Silver Birch’s medium and talked with the spirit as though he were a lifelong friend. They agreed to ignore the adults in the circle, and the questions and answers from the beloved guide made for the children a picture of the spirit world of great beauty.

These children, Ruth, a girl of eight, and Paul, a boy of six, had prepared a list of questions that the guide had forecast would be harder to answer than most of the problems put to hint by grown-ups. It was the first time they had seen anyone being entranced, but it had been explained to them that the medium would go to sleep and that the guide would take possession of his body.

As the medium was overshadowed their bright eyes were fixed on his face as though they could see a change coming over it. Later, when they asked him how he looked, Silver Birch asked them to stand back a little and watch while he transfigured the medium’s face. The change in appearance was striking.

“You are different front the medium!” said the little boy. “You are beautiful!” said his sister, who declared almost as soon as the guide began with his blessing: “What a beautiful voice you have!” To her that was most important for she forms estimates of character by voices.

What was the purpose of the sitting? It was at the request of the guide that it was held, for he has repeatedly told the parents of the children that the girl is very psychic and has explained that she must be watched carefully for her powers would soon begin to manifest. He has even forecast the first spirit she will see.

“Oh, Great White Spirit,” said the guide in his invocation, “may we be able to approach Thee with the simplicity of the child’s heart and mind and learn those great truths that are revealed only to those who have the perfect trust of children in a loving and all-wise Parent. May we learn to approach Thee without fear, knowing that Thou art perfect wisdom and love and kindness.”

When the guide had asked the little ones to sit, one on each knee, with his head nestling against theirs, he said to them: “I have brought some real fairies for you to play with, and I am going to leave them with you so that they will watch over your beds all through the night and keep you company.

“I am going to try to make you see them, for they are real fairies, not out of books, but out of the fairy kingdom. We will not talk to the big children tonight; we will pretend they are not there. You know, I often come to play with you and bring my own little wigwam.

“What is a wigwam?” asked Paul.

“You call it a tent,” the guide replied.

“When I lived on earth as an Indian I lived in a wigwam.”

“You have such a beautiful voice, and I can hear you so easily,’’ said Ruth.

“This is my voice and not the voice of my medium. I make it specially.”

“How do you talk in spirit land?” was her next question.

“We don’t speak. We send out our thoughts out to each other on little wings, and they fly quickly through space carried by the stars. And then we receive other thoughts in reply, so that we do not have to find words. When we have a beautiful picture in our minds we can send it at once. We have so many beautiful things here; many more than you have—trees and flowers and birds and streams. Whenever we want a beautiful picture we can make it immediately for ourselves. We can make everything we need.”

Then the girl asked whether the guide would help a neighbour who had passed that week and who had been aided by Silver Birch and his band during an illness that invariably ends in great pain. She asked that the two children left behind should be cared for by the Great Spirit. The guide said he had already helped and would look after them.

‘‘Will he be a great spirit like you?’’ asked Paul.

“Yes, but it will take some time – a few hundred years.”

‘‘That is a long time,’’ was Ruth’s comment.

“Does it seem a long time to you?  No, you get used to it, and then even a long time seems like a little time,’’ the spirit replied.

“How long is it since you were born?” was her next question.

“I have been in the spirit world neatly 3,000 years – and I am still very young.”

“I don’t call that very young,” she said, and added, “When we die will we become spirits?”

‘‘You are little spirits growing up to become big spirits.’’

“But we are not the same as you,” Paul said.

“We are all children of the Great Spirit you call God, and as all the little parts of the Great Spirit are linked together we are one family of the spirit.”

“God must be very big,’’ was the boy’s next comment.

“He is as big as the whole wide world. And there is much that you cannot see.”

“But did God make the Great Spirit?” was his next question.

He did not make it, for God is the Great Spirit Who is always there.”

“Does He ever come to earth?” Ruth inquired.

“Yes, He comes to earth every time a baby is born, for then He puts a part of Himself into it.”

When the children said that they were glad they believed in spirits, the guide replied that they were very lucky children. “You are fortunate,” he said, “because you know you are surrounded by the light and love from those who have passed from your world to mine. They are protecting you always.”

“Is your world bigger than ours?” was Ruth’s next question.

“Yes. It is much, much bigger and it contains many more beautiful things than you have in your world – such beautiful colours, such wonderful music, such great big trees, and flowers and birds and animals.”

“Do you have any animals?” Paul asked.

“We have animals, but they are not wild.”

The boy then said: “1 don’t expect you kill them as you used to when you were on earth.”

“We don’t kill anything at all.”

“Do you get hungry?” he asked.

“No, never, because we are surrounded always by life, and when we get a little tired, we just breathe in more life. When you go up to your little bed at night you stand up and breathe in air, and when you do that you also breathe in life.”

Then the children talked about not being able to remember their life in the spirit world, and they added that it seemed like their first life on earth because they could not remember any other existence.

Ruth next asked: “How many lives do we have?”

“You have as many lives as a cat. You know that in your world a cat is said to have nine lives.”

“And then does it change into something else?” was the boy’s eager query.

“No, a cat is always a cat, but it becomes a more beautiful cat, just as little children coming from your world into mine grow more beautiful the longer they are here. We have no ugliness, no cruelty, no darkness, no fear in our world, which is always a land of sunshine.”

This puzzled Paul. “No rain! No rain!” he said. “But if we don’t have rain in our world we die.”

“But your world is very small. It is only the beginning of life. There are lots of other worlds. There are other worlds in the stars and in the planets where other children live.”

Ruth then surprised her hearers with these words: “In Psychic News, it says ‘All Worlds Are One’” (a reference to a weekly heading of comments in Psychic News)

“That is true, but you must know that there are millions and millions of worlds, and there are millions and millions of children, and they are all children of the Great Spirit. They are all one in the Great Spirit, and He is in all.”

“Are you tired of speaking?” she then asked.

“No, no. I can speak for a long time yet.”

“When shall I see with my spirit eyes, if I have them?” was her next question.

“You have spirit eyes and ears, hands and fingers, and legs with spirit toes, for you have another body—that is the body of the spirit. You can see with your spirit eyes now, but you do not remember what you see while you are in the little physical body you have now. But gradually you will be able to catch what you have seen and hold it.”

“Will my spirit eyes be ever so big?” she asked.

“It does not matter, for the eyes of the spirit can see ever so far.”

“Can they see right over the world?” Paul inquired.

“They are very like a telescope which can bring distant things into the range of your vision.”

Like a bolt from the blue came the boy’s next question:  “Is there going to be another war?”

“There is always a little war going on, but you don’t have to worry about it. You have to think of peace and send the thought from your little mind out into the great world stream of peace and swell its note so that all men in their hearts will desire peace and that will help them to push war away.”