No. 45.—From Mr. Haynes.
In a letter to Mr. Hodgson, Mr. Haynes writes:—
"BOSTON, June 25, 1887.
"The name of the prisoner alluded to has passed from my recollection. He belonged in East Boston, and was sentenced for life for an assault upon a woman. I think he was pardoned some years ago, but am not certain about it. He had but one child, a boy about five years old, who always came with his wife to visit him. He seemed very fond of the child, always held him in his arms during the visit, and showed a good deal of feeling at parting.
"The following is an account of the affair made at the time:—
"'The following very singular incident I can vouch for as having actually occurred. I refer to it, not to illustrate a supernatural or any other unusual agency, as I am a sceptic in such matters, but as a remarkable instance of hallucination or presentiment.
"'I received a message from the wife of one of our convicts, in prison for life, that their only child, a bright little boy five years old, was dead, he having accidentally fallen into the water and been drowned. I was requested to communicate to the father the death of the child, but not the cause, as the wife preferred to tell him herself when she should visit him a week or two later.
"'I sent for him to the guard-room, and after a few questions in regard to himself, I said I had some sad news for him. He quickly replied, "I know what it is, Mr. Warden; my boy is dead!" "How did you hear of it?" I asked. "Oh, I knew it was so; he was drowned, was he not, Mr. Warden?" "But who informed you of it?" I again asked. "No one," he replied. "How, then, did you know he was dead, and what makes you think he was drowned?" "Last Sunday," he said, "your little boy was in the chapel; he fell asleep, and you took him up and held him. As I looked up and caught sight of him lying in your arms, instantly the thought occurred to me that my boy was dead—drowned. In vain I tried to banish it from my mind, to think of something else, but could not; the tears came into my eyes, and it has been ringing in my ears ever since; and when you sent for me, my heart sunk within me, for I felt sure my fears were to be confirmed."
"'What made it more remarkable was the fact that the child was missed during the forenoon of that Sunday, but the body was not found for some days after.'
"The foregoing is copied from my journal, the entry made on the day of the interview, and I can assure you is strictly correct in every particular.
"GIDEON HAYNES."
In answer to inquiries as to the name and address of the percipient, Mr. Haynes writes:—
"His name was Timothy Cronan. He was pardoned in 1873 or 1874. Mr. Darling, the officer in the guard-room to-day, occupied the same position when I had the interview with Cronan. He was present, and remembers distinctly all the circumstances of the case, which were discussed by us at the time. Cronan served some ten or twelve years. ... He has not been heard from at the prison since his discharge."
In this case it may perhaps be inferred, from the circumstances of its occurrence, that the impression was of a rudimentary visual character.
In the next case it seems clear that the percipient saw what she described, but the impression appears to have been of a purely inward nature.
No. 46.—From PROFESSOR RICHET.
"On Monday, July 2nd, 1888, after having passed all the day in my laboratory, I hypnotised Léonie at 8 P.M., and while she tried to make out a diagram concealed in an envelope I said to her quite suddenly: 'What has happened to M. Langlois?' Léonie knows M. Langlois from having seen him two or three times some time ago in my physiological laboratory, where he acts as my assistant. 'He has burnt himself,' Léonie replied. 'Good,' I said, 'and where has he burnt himself?' 'On the left hand. It is not fire: it is—-I don't know its name. Why does he not take care when he pours it out?' 'Of what colour,' I asked, 'is the stuff which he pours out?' 'It is not red, it is brown; he has hurt himself very much—the skin puffed up directly.'
"Now, this description is admirably exact. At 4 P.M. that day M. Langlois had wished to pour some bromine into a bottle. He had done this clumsily, so that some of the bromine flowed on to his left hand, which held the funnel, and at once burnt him severely. Although he at once put his hand into water, wherever the bromine had touched it a blister was formed in a few seconds—a blister which one could not better describe than by saying, 'the skin puffed up.' I need not say that Léonie had not left my house, nor seen any one from my laboratory. Of this I am absolutely certain, and I am certain that I had not mentioned the incident of the burn to any one. Moreover, this was the first time for nearly a year that M. Langlois had handled bromine, and when Léonie saw him six months before at the laboratory he was engaged in experiments of quite another kind." (Proc. S.P.R., vol. vi. pp. 69, 70.)
In the next case the mental picture seems to have been much more vivid than the visions of distant familiar scenes, or faces, which most of us can summon up by an effort of will; in fact, the impression probably approached very nearly to a hallucination. It is noteworthy, however, that it did not apparently form part of the external order, but replaced it. We have no means therefore of measuring the degree of vividness.