"Who is dead? Is it one of my patients?"

"Limoges, the ropemaker--you know, in the Crimea--he has just died. Poor folks--poor folks!"

"Come, come, my child," said the doctor, "you are dreaming--it is only a bad dream."

"A dream," replied the somnambulist. "But I am not asleep. I see him--he has just drawn his last breath. Poor boy! Look at him."

And she pointed with her hand, as if to direct attention to the scene which was so vivid before her. At the same time she would have run away, but hardly had she risen to go when she fell back, unable to move. It was a long time before she became calm, but, on coming to herself, she had no recollection of anything which had occurred. Some time after, Limoges senior received news of the death of his son. It occurred near Constantinople on the same day that Marie had witnessed it in her clairvoyant vision.

On another occasion there was a seance at which ten or twelve persons were present. Marie was put to sleep and had told the contents of several pockets and sealed packages prepared for the purpose. Dr. Dufay came in late purposely, so as to be as much out of rapport with her as possible.

He had just received a letter from an officer in Algiers, stating that he had been very ill with dysentery from sleeping under canvas during the rainy season. This letter he had placed in a thick envelope, without address or postmark, and carefully stuck down the edges. This again was placed in another dark envelope and closed in like manner. No one but himself knew of the existence of this letter.

Un.o.bserved, he pa.s.sed the letter to a lady present, indicating that it was to be given to Dr. Gerault, who received it without knowing from whom it came, and placed it in Marie's hand.

"What have you in your hand?" asked the doctor.

"A letter."

"To whom is it directed?"

"To M. Dufay."

"By whom?"

"A military gentleman whom I do not know."

"Of what does he write?"

"He is ill--he writes of his illness."

"Can you name his illness?"

"Oh, yes; very well. It is like the old woodcutter's of Mesland, who is not yet well."

"I understand; it is dysentery. Now listen, Marie. It would give M. Dufay much pleasure if you would go and see his friend, the military gentleman, and find out how he is at present."

"Oh, it is too far; it would be a long journey."

"But we are waiting for you. Please go without losing time."

(A long pause.) "I cannot go on; there is water, a lot of water."

"And you do not see any bridge?"

"Of course there is no bridge."

"Perhaps there is a boat to cross in, as there is to cross the Loire at Chaumont."

"Boats--yes--but this Loire is a regular flood; it frightens me."

"Come, come; take courage--embark."

(A long silence, agitation, pallor, nausea.) "Have you arrived?"

"Nearly; but I am much fatigued, and I do not see any people on sh.o.r.e."

"Land and go on; you will soon find some one."

"There, now I see some people--they are all women, dressed in white. But that is queer--they all have beards."

"Go to them and ask where you will find the military gentleman."

(After a pause.) "They do not speak as we do--and I have been obliged to wait while they called a little boy with a red cap, who understands me. He leads me on, slowly, because we are walking in sand. Ah! there is the military gentleman. He has red trousers and an officer's cap. But he is so very thin and ill. What a pity he has not some of your medicine!"

"What does he say caused his illness?"

"He shows me his bed--three planks on pickets--over wet sand."

"Thanks. Advise him to go to the hospital, and now return to Blois."

The letter was then opened and read to the company and caused no little astonishment.

Remarkable instances of clairvoyance have not been frequently reported in America. Nevertheless, well-authenticated cases are by no means wanting.

Dr. S. B. Brittan, in his book ent.i.tled "Man and His Relations," relates several such cases. The following came under his own observation:--

In the autumn of 1855 he saw Mr. Charles Baker of Michigan, who, while out on a hunting excursion, had been accidentally shot by his companion. The charge pa.s.sed through his pocket, demolishing several articles and carrying portions of the contents of the pocket deep into the fleshy part of his thigh. The accident was of a serious character, causing extreme suffering, great debility, and emaciation, lasting several months, as well as much anxiety regarding his ultimate recovery.

He was in this low condition when seen by Dr. Brittan. The doctor soon after returned East, and called on Mrs. Metler of Hartford, with whose clairvoyant power he was familiar, and requested her to examine into the condition of a young man who had been shot. No information was given as to his residence, condition, or the circ.u.mstances attending the accident.

She directly found the patient, described the wound, and declared that there was a piece of copper still in the wound, and that he would not recover until it was removed.

Young Baker, however, was sure he had no copper in his pocket at the time of the accident; the medical attendant found no indications of it, so it was concluded that the clairvoyant had made a mistake.

Later, however, a foreign substance made its appearance in the wound, and was removed by the mother of the patient with a pair of embroidery scissors; it proved to be a copper cent. The removal of the foreign substance was followed by rapid recovery. The discovery of the copper coin was made by the clairvoyant while at a distance of nearly one thousand miles from the patient.

Mrs. H. Porter, while at her home in Bridgeport, Conn., in the presence of the same writer, declared that a large steamer was on fire on the Hudson River; that among other objects in the vicinity she could clearly distinguish the village of Yonkers, and that the name of the steamer was the Henry Clay. The whole sad catastrophe was described by her with minuteness, as if occurring in her immediate presence.

The next morning the New York papers gave a full account of the burning of the Henry Clay off the village of Yonkers--an occurrence which, doubtless, some of my readers may still remember--corresponding in every important particular with that given by the clairvoyant.

Mr. John Fitzgerald of Brunswick, Me., once a somewhat noted temperance lecturer, but at the time now referred to a bedridden invalid, saw, clairvoyantly, and fully described the great fire in Fall River, Ma.s.s., in 1874, by which a large factory was destroyed. He described the commencement and progress of the fire, the means employed to rescue the operatives, criticised the work of the firemen, shouted directions, as if he were present, and at last as the roof fell in, he fell back upon the pillow and said:

"It is all over--the roof has fallen, and those poor people are burned."

It was not until three days later that Mrs. Fitzgerald obtained a paper containing an account of the fire. This she read to her husband, who frequently interrupted her to tell her what would come next as "he had seen it all." The account corresponded almost exactly with the description given by Mr. Fitzgerald while the fire was in progress.

I have, myself, recently found a very excellent subject whom I will call A. B., whom I first hypnotized on account of illness, but who afterward proved to have psychic perception and clairvoyant powers of a remarkable character. Once, while in the hypnotic condition, I asked her if she could go away and see what was transpiring in other places, as for instance, at her own home. She replied that she would try. I then told her to go to her home, in a small town three hundred miles away and quite unknown to me, and see who was in the house and what they were doing. After a minute of perfect silence she said: "I am there." "Go in," I said, "and tell me what you find." She said: "There is no one at home but my mother. She is sitting in the dining-room by a window; there is a screen in the window which was not there when I left home. My mother is sewing." "What sort of sewing is it?" I asked. "It is a waist for D." (her little brother). I wrote down every detail of her description, and then awoke her. She had no recollection of anything which had transpired, but said she had had a restful sleep. I then desired her to write at once to her mother and ask who was in the house at four o'clock this same afternoon, where she was, and what she was doing.

The answer came, describing everything exactly as set down in my notes.