We will begin by quoting two instances of the transference of simple sensation. The first we owe to the kindness of Mr. Ruskin. The percipient was Mrs. Severn, wife of the well-known landscape painter.
No. 41.—From MRS. ARTHUR SEVERN.
"BRANTWOOD, CONISTON,
October 27th, 1883.
"I woke up with a start, feeling I had had a hard blow on my mouth, and with a distinct sense that I had been cut and was bleeding under my upper lip, and seized my pocket-handkerchief, and held it (in a little pushed lump) to the part, as I sat up in bed, and after a few seconds, when I removed it, I was astonished not to see any blood, and only then realised it was impossible anything could have struck me there, as I lay fast asleep in bed, and so I thought it was only a dream!—but I looked at my watch, and saw it was seven, and finding Arthur (my husband) was not in the room, I concluded (rightly) that he must have gone out on the lake for an early sail, as it was so fine.
"I then fell asleep. At breakfast (half-past nine), Arthur came in rather late, and I noticed he rather purposely sat farther away from me than usual, and every now and then put his pocket-handkerchief furtively up to his lip, in the very way I had done. I said, 'Arthur, why are you doing that?' and added a little anxiously, 'I know you've hurt yourself! but I'll tell you why afterwards.' He said, 'Well, when I was sailing, a sudden squall came, throwing the tiller suddenly round, and it struck me a bad blow in the mouth, under the upper lip, and it has been bleeding a good deal and won't stop.' I then said, 'Have you any idea what o'clock it was when it happened?' and he answered, 'It must have been about seven.'
"I then told what had happened to me, much to his surprise, and all who were with us at breakfast.
"It happened here about three years ago at Brantwood, to me.
"JOAN R. SEVERN."
Mr. Severn wrote to us on the 15th November 1883, giving an account of the trivial accident described by the percipient, and adding that after leaving the boat he
"walked up to the house, anxious of course to hide as much as possible what had happened to my mouth, and getting another handkerchief walked into the breakfast-room, and managed to say something about having been out early. In an instant my wife said, 'You don't mean to say you have hurt your mouth?' or words to that effect. I then explained what had happened, and was surprised to see some extra interest on her face, and still more surprised when she told me she had started out of her sleep thinking she had received a blow on the mouth! and that it was a few minutes past seven o'clock, and wondered if my accident had happened at the same time; but as I had no watch with me I couldn't tell, though, on comparing notes, it certainly looked as if it had been about the same time.
"ARTHUR SEVERN."
(Phantasms of the Living, vol. i. pp, 188, 189.)
So far as I know, this is a unique instance, if we limit ourselves to first-hand evidence, of the spontaneous transference of a sensation of pain to a waking percipient.[86] Impressions of the kind, indeed, unless more definite and intense than the analogy of experiment gives us warrant for anticipating, would as a rule be quickly forgotten, or would be naturally ascribed to some other source than telepathy. We owe the record of the present instance to the fortunate chance that the agent and percipient met within an hour of the occurrence, and that the pain of the percipient, though slight, was not such as could be readily attributed to ordinary causes. In the next instance, also, where the impression belonged to a different sense, the agent and percipient were in the habit of meeting almost daily, otherwise it seems possible that the coincidence would have escaped notice.
No. 42.—From MISS X.
The percipient was Miss X.; the agent was her friend D., already referred to, who writes:—
"April 13th, 1888.
"In the spring of 1881, in the evening after dinner, I accidentally set fire to the curtains of a sitting-room, and put myself and several others into some danger. The next morning, on visiting X., I heard from her that she had been disturbed overnight by an unaccountable smell of fire, which she could not trace, but which seemed to follow her wherever she went. I was led to discover the fire, and so probably to save the house, by what seemed a chance thought of X. I had left the room, unconscious of anything wrong, and had settled to my work elsewhere, when I suddenly remembered I had not put away some papers I had been looking at, and which I had thought might wait for daylight, but a strong feeling that X. would insist upon order, had she been there, induced me to go back, when I found the whole place in flames."