We have already discussed some cases of this sort which seemed to be psychorrhagic—to have occurred without will or purpose on the part of the invader. What we must now do is to collect cases where there may probably have been some real projection of will or desire on the invader's part, leading to the projection of his phantasm in a manner recognisable by the distant friend whom he thus invades—yet without subsequent memory of his own. These cases will be intermediate between the psychorrhagic cases already described and the experimental cases on which we shall presently enter.
In the case of Canon Warburton—in Chapter IV.—the person undergoing the accident did recollect having had a vivid thought of his brother at the moment;—while his brother on the other hand was startled from a slight doze by the vision of the scene of danger as then taking place;—the steep stairs and the falling figure. This is an acute crisis, much resembling impending death by drowning, etc.; and the apparition may be construed either way—either as a scene clairvoyantly discerned by Canon Warburton, owing, as I say, to a spasmodic tightening of his psychical link with his brother, or as a sudden invasion on that brother's part, whose very rapidity perhaps helped to prevent his remembering it.
The case given in Appendix VI. E is interesting, both evidentially and from its intrinsic character. The narrative, printed in Phantasms of the Living, on the authority of one only of the witnesses concerned, led to the discovery of the second witness—whom we had no other means of finding—and has been amply corroborated by her independent account.
The case stands about midway between psychorrhagic cases and intentional self-projections, and is clearly of the nature of an invasion, since the phantasm was seen by a stranger as well as by the friend, and seemed to both to be moving about the room. The figure, that is to say, was adapted to the percipient's environment.
Cases of this general character, both visual and auditory, occupy a great part of Phantasms of the Living, and others have been frequently quoted in the S.P.R. Journal during recent years.[123]
Of still greater interest is the class which comes next in order in my ascending scale of apparent intensity; the cases, namely, where there is recollection on both sides, so that the experience is reciprocal.[124] These deserve study, for it is by noting under what circumstances these spontaneously reciprocal cases occur that we have the best chance of learning how to produce them experimentally. It will be seen that there have been various degrees of tension of thought on the agent's part.
And here comes in a small but important group—the group of what I may call death-compacts prematurely fulfilled. We shall see in the next chapter that the exchange of a solemn promise between two friends to appear to one another, if possible, after death is far from being a useless piece of sentiment. Such posthumous appearances, it is true, may be in most cases impossible, but nevertheless there is real ground to believe that the previous tension of the will in that direction makes it more likely that the longed-for meeting shall be accomplished. If so, this is a kind of experiment, and an experiment which all can make.
Now we have two or three cases where this compact has been made, and where an apparition has followed—but before and not after the agent's death—at the moment, that is to say, of some dangerous accident, when the sufferer was perhaps all but drowned, or was stunned, or otherwise insensible.[125]
Lastly, the lessons of these spontaneous apparitions have been confirmed and widened by actual experiment. It is plain that just as we are not confined to noting small spontaneous telepathic transferences when they occur, but can also endeavour to reproduce them by experiment, so also we can endeavour to reproduce experimentally these more advanced telepathic phenomena of the invasion of the presence of the percipient by the agent. It is to be hoped, indeed, that such experiment may become one of the most important features of our inquiry. The type of the experiment is somewhat as follows. The intending agent endeavours by an effort at self-concentration, made either in waking hours or just before sleep, to render himself perceptible to a given person at a distance, who, of course, must have no reason to expect a phantasmal visit at that hour. Independent records must be made on each side, of all attempts made, and of all phantoms seen. The evidential point is, of course, the coincidence between the attempt and the phantom, whether or not the agent can afterwards remember his own success.[126]
Now the experimental element here is obviously very incomplete. It consists in little more than in a concentrated desire to produce an effect which one can never explain, and seldom fully remember. I have seen no evidence to show that any one can claim to be an adept in such matters—has learned a method of thus appearing at will.[127] We are acting in the dark. Yet nevertheless the mere fact that on some few occasions this strong desire has actually been followed by a result of this extremely interesting kind is one of the most encouraging phenomena in our whole research. The successes indeed have borne a higher proportion to the failures than I should have ventured to hope. But nowhere is there more need of persistent and careful experimentation;—nowhere, I may add, have emotions quite alien from Science—mere groundless fears of seeing anything unusual—interfered with more disastrous effect. Such fears, one hopes, will pass away, and the friend's visible image will be recognised as a welcome proof of the link that binds the two spirits together.