In speaking of clairvoyance I shall again have recourse to my notes taken at the time of my American visit and on the spot.

I am quite convinced that where a life has been in any way eventful or at all marked, any fairly developed clairvoyant can in some way "sense" your mental and moral atmosphere.

In some three or four personal cases, the notes taken at the time of such visits, paid several thousands of miles apart, might almost be read as descriptive of the same interview, with different witnesses.

My travelling companion, who had led a very uneventful life, seemed to puzzle them much more. There was apparently nothing to lay hold of, and only a very shadowy, indistinct picture was given in consequence.

In my own case the colours were put on freely, firmly, and without the least hesitation, and in every single instance the sketch was remarkably truthful, and yet would not have described the life of one other woman in three or four hundred.

That there is a good deal of guesswork done even under the supposed influence of "trance" is quite evident to me. I am not prepared to say that such trances were in no case genuine, but the remarks made during them were frequently of a tentative nature, and the slightest good "hit" was followed up with as much ingenuity as Sir Richard Owen displayed in putting together his skeleton from a single bone.

I was told some six or seven times that my mother (who died during my infancy) was my guardian spirit, and six times her name was given to me, with some difficulty in one or two cases, but invariably without the smallest guessing on the part of the clairvoyant or any hint from me.

One of my most successful interviews in New York was with a Mrs Parks of Philadelphia—a very pleasant, good-looking, healthy woman, quite unlike the usual cadaverous medium with whom one is more familiar.

Her terms being rather higher than those usually asked in America (where competition has made mediums a cheap luxury), I demurred at first; upon which she said brightly: "Well, don't come if you don't feel like paying that; but I never alter my prices. But I won't take your money if I don't give you satisfaction. Some get satisfaction from one person and some from another—you will soon see if I am telling you the truth about your friends, and I won't take a penny from you if you are dissatisfied."

I left the house saying I would think it over, and Mrs Parks did not at all press me to come, and from my manner could hardly have expected to see me.

I had a most satisfactory interview with her next day.

After referring to my mother's presence, and giving her name without any hesitation, she gave me several messages with regard to character which were singularly appropriate, and finished up by saying: "Your mother does not wish you to go to mediums or mix yourself too much up with such persons. It is not necessary for you to do so; she says you have enough mediumistic power for her to be able to communicate with you directly."

I could not help saying: "Well, Mrs Parks, you are going very much against your own interests in giving me this message. I am a perfect stranger to you in this city. I have told you that I am making some little stay here, and as you have given me so much satisfaction I might have been induced to come and see you several times again before leaving."

She laughed, and answered: "That is quite true; but I am an honest woman, and I am bound to give you the message that is given to me for you, even when it goes against my interest."

Seeing her bright, pleasant home, with every trace of comfort about it, and having received personal proof that money alone was not her consideration, I could not help asking why she continued such an arduous life.

"Well," she answered, "the truth is that I do it now against my own wish. My husband has always objected to it more or less. He was afraid it might injure my health, and for two years I gave it up entirely. But," she added, "the spirits would not leave me alone. It seemed as if I had to come back to it, as if I were refusing to use the powers that had been given to me for the help and comfort of my fellow-creatures. I name a higher price than others, to limit my work and to keep away those who would only come from idle curiosity." She also told me that sometimes she had to give orders beforehand that certain people should not be admitted on any pretext whatever. "I can see their spirits round them before they reach the door very often, and I would not have such people, bringing such an atmosphere into my house—no, not if they gave me a hundred dollars for each sitting."

I must mention one more incident connected with this period of my investigations, because it throws a strong light on some obscure problems.

Whilst consulting these clairvoyants, in widely different parts of America, two very near relatives of mine were almost invariably described, and the names—one male and one female—were generally given. The mediums invariably went on to say that the female spirit was further on in development than the male spirit. Now there were circumstances which made this statement, viewed from this world's standpoint, not only absolutely mistaken, but almost ludicrously so. The woman's nature had been a far more faulty one—more impetuous, less balanced, and so forth. The male spirit described had been a man of very exceptional character and spirituality, whilst on earth.

In spite of these facts the same "mistake," as I considered it, had consistently been made by every clairvoyant who described them; which, by-the-by, rules out telepathy as an explanation of these special experiences. It certainly seemed strange that after giving accurate descriptions of the two relatives referred to—names included—each clairvoyant should make exactly the same mistake upon so obvious a matter as the question involved.

Some months later, in the course of my travels, I found myself at Denver in Colorado. We stayed here, at first, one day only, to break our journey farther up into the Rocky Mountains. The previous day, when wandering about Colorado Springs, my friend and I had come across a lady doctor by chance; and having asked some trivial question, we were invited into her pretty little house, where we chatted for half-an-hour on various subjects—including spiritualism. We gave no account of our experiences, but simply mentioned the fact that we had some interest in the investigation.

Hearing this, and that we were going on to Denver next day, this lady gave me the address of a young married friend who lived in that city, and who had during the previous two years suddenly developed strong mediumistic power, but was in no way a professional. She begged us to call if possible, and I took down the address, but said it was very doubtful if we could do so in the short time we should have at our disposal.

At the end of a long afternoon's drive to the most interesting points of view in Denver, we found ourselves close to the quarter where this young woman lived, and called at the house mentioned. The lady was not at home, and a friend who received us explained that it would be impossible for her to come down in the evening to see us, as she was delicate, and not allowed to go out at night.

As we were leaving Denver early next morning, this made a meeting impossible, so we left our cards, and a note to explain our visit. Going into the hotel office after dinner that evening, I heard a gentleman inquiring for me by name, saying he had brought his wife to see me. I explained that I was the lady he asked for, and he then said, with the stoical resignation of the typical American husband: "I did not like her to come out, but she was bound to have her own way."

The lady in question came into my bedroom upstairs after dismissing her husband, and said she "preferred a room already permeated by my influence." She then continued very simply: "I do not know whether I shall be able to help you at all, but it seems there is something I have to tell you or explain. When I read your note I felt bound to come, although my husband tried to dissuade me. It seemed to me as if the spirits came all the way with me in the cars."

She then gave me quite a good sitting, but on the ordinary lines, ending up by the description of the relatives mentioned, and by making the usual "mistake" about their relative spiritual positions.

This was all said in trance. When she returned to consciousness I said: "Now, Mrs Brown (her real name), I must tell you honestly that you have made one cardinal mistake, but I am also bound to say that five or six professional mediums have done just the same as regards the same matter." I then explained, and asked if she could account for such a persistent and obvious misconception.

"Wait a moment," she answered; "perhaps the spirits will tell me."

She looked up with a very intent expression for a minute, as though listening to some explanation which did not cover the ground of her own experience, and then said very quickly and in a monotonous voice, as though repeating a verbal message:

"It has nothing exactly to do with our earthly idea of 'goodness.' Spiritual life can only come to those prepared for it, within the limits of their capacity. The male spirit you mention was a clergyman of the Church of England. He was a very holy man, but he was in some way creed bound. He was a man of strong creed; he clung to his creed here, and cannot quite free himself from it even now, although he has advanced very much in spiritual perception. Now his wife had a very sympathetic, apprehending nature. She can therefore receive spiritual light more fully and freely. That is why she has risen to a higher plane. This is not a question of character so much as of spiritual capacity, and in this she is the more highly gifted of the two. She is on a different plane, but she is able to help her husband very much, and in time he will join her, and they will progress together."

All this was said in a quick, decided way, and without the smallest hesitation.

One would hardly have expected a young woman in the midst of the Rocky Mountains to know the exact meaning of the term "clergyman of the Church of England," for the word is almost unknown in America, where they speak invariably of a minister. Yet the words were given with quick, firm precision, exactly as written down.

Later, in San Francisco, a clairvoyant at once referred to my friend "Muriel," and described her, but in rather vague terms. When I pointed this fact out she said a little impatiently, as though we were wasting time in quibbling: "Oh, well, it does not matter. The spirit tells me you know perfectly well who it is. She has already appeared to you in New York."

I had gone to this particular medium with several young friends, who were all in a very sceptical and rather frivolous state of mind. She described "an uncle," apparently over the heads of two of my friends, and gave the further information that he was surrounded by water, and appeared to have been drowned; also that he was extremely musical.

This was declared to be perfectly untrue and without a grain of foundation, in fact.

The woman looked puzzled and a little mortified, but turned to others in the circle, with better success, let us hope!

On our return home, when the young people were telling their mother of the "awful humbug" amid shouts of laughter, the mother said quietly: "But surely you remember, my dear children, hearing of your Uncle Robert, who was drowned years ago, before any of you were born? He was a great musician. He wanted to give up his life to art, but he was persuaded to take up another profession."

I give this as an instance of the carelessness with which, when we are determined to find fraud, we may do so sometimes at the expense of truth. These young girls had doubtless heard of their uncle, but the fact had possibly escaped their memories for the moment, and probably they had no wish to recall anything which could cast a doubt on their preconceived notion that "the whole thing was a swindle!"

Before closing the chapter of my American experiences in the years 1885 and 1886, I must give one more personal detail.

When investigating various clairvoyants in the Eastern States in March and April of the year 1886, I had been told more than once that a guardian band of six spirits was forming round me, and would be later supplemented by another band of six protectors. Whether this had any bearing upon the following incident, I must leave my readers to decide.

About three months after this pronouncement I found myself at Victoria, Vancouver's Island. Miss Greenlow and I had gone there from San Francisco for a week or two, not being able at that time to make the further trip to Alaska. After a very stormy voyage of two or three days we reached Victoria one morning about six a.m. There was only one large double-bedded room available at the hotel, and we took this on the understanding that two separate rooms should be found for us before the evening.

As we lay on our beds for a few hours of much needed rest, quite suddenly I realised that I saw something abnormal in the air—just above and in front of my head. I mentioned this with much surprise to my companion, who at once suggested the effects of liver after a sea voyage so tempestuous as ours had been. For the first few moments I was inclined to agree with her, and said so; but very shortly my opinion was altered by the fact that what I saw first as an indistinct blur gradually assumed a definite shape, and I then found there were six little swallows in front of me, apparently connected with each other by a waving ribbon, or so it appeared to me.

Opening and shutting one's eyes did not affect the vision. There they remained, both at the moment and for several succeeding years, during which time I was constantly in the habit of seeing "my birds," as we used to call them. About six months after their first appearance in the pure, clear atmosphere of Victoria (Vancouver), I was driving across the Blackheath Common on a very bright, frosty day, and looking out of the open window of my carriage, I saw my six birds as usual; but for the first time, parallel with them and lower down, were six new birds of just the same size and appearance (about half-an-inch between the tips of the wings).

A few days later the new birds and the old ones had amalgamated, and twelve little swallows floated in the air before my eyes. I could not see them in the house. It needed the background of uninterrupted sky apparently to throw them into sufficient relief to be recognised. After some years, this special sign was withdrawn, and others have taken its place. For example, I have seen in the same way, during the last fourteen years, an anchor, with the chain attached to it, and caught through one end of the former, a short reaping hook. This, doubtless, has some symbolical meaning. Near the anchor I see a sacrificial altar, with flames rising up from it; then a triangle, with loops at the corners, which I was once told was the sign of Nostradamus. Then an old-fashioned mirror in a quaintly-shaped frame, and finally a long staff, with the sign of Aries at one end. I have since realised that this is very much like the "Staff of Faith" found on the top of many of the tombs in the Roman catacombs. All these latter emblems come together as a rule, with a connecting thread binding them to each other. I cannot see them at will, but when the atmosphere is at all clear they are rarely absent, when I have time to look for them. I was much amused once by an earnest Christian scientist, with whom I happened to be spending a few days on the coast of the eastern counties. She had warned me repeatedly against "phenomena" of every kind, spontaneous or induced. On a specially bright morning we were sitting together in a beautiful park, which is thrown open to strangers on special days, and, forgetting my companion's prejudices, I exclaimed involuntarily:

"I never saw my signs more clearly than just now!—there must be something very pure about the atmosphere."

This was too much for my friend, who bent forward eagerly, saying:—"Do let me try if I cannot see them too!"

Well, she "tried" for the greater part of two hours, but absolutely in vain, and then got up, and suggested going home to luncheon. She added naÏvely: "I thought they must have something wrong about them, and I am quite sure of it now, or I should have seen them."

But it had taken her two hours of failure to be absolutely convinced that they came straight from the devil!

One sign—also birds—appeared to me on one occasion only. We had returned to Denver, where Miss Greenlow and I were to separate after a year's constant travel together. She was going back to San Francisco to take steamer for the Sandwich Islands, and thence on to Australia; whilst I was returning to England for family reasons.

I had arranged to dine with the hospitable Dean of Denver the evening of the day of her departure, and I had not realised how much less lonely one would have felt had my journey East corresponded more closely with her journey West, especially as she was obliged to leave the hotel about nine o'clock in the morning.

Waking early, and lying in bed, feeling very melancholy at the idea of being left behind and alone in the very centre of America, I looked up, and, to my delight, saw a new sign.

Not my little birds this time, but two big, plump father and mother birds, with a short string attached, not horizontally as before, but perpendicularly. At the end of this little string was a tiny bird, even smaller than the swallows, being evidently guided by the two big birds, and quite safe in their charge.

My room communicated with that of my companion, whose door was open, and I told her of this new "sign in the heavens," adding that I hoped it had come to stay. Fortunately, I found a pencil, and made a rough sketch at the time, or I might have been tempted to imagine that I had never seen it at all, for the trio never appeared again, though I have longed to see them, and have certainly required the consolation quite as much, many times, since that far-away summer morning in Denver, Colorado.

On reaching home after this long American trip, I found a budget of letters awaiting me—amongst them a little registered box containing a kind birthday present from the brother who has been mentioned in the Introduction to this book. Was it another case of mental affinity which had induced him unconsciously to choose a gold brooch with two swallows in gold and pearls? Not an uncommon design; but the birds were exactly the same size as those I was in the habit of seeing just at that time.

I never told him how extraordinarily À propos his present had proved, but I have always looked upon that brooch as a mascot, and have certainly worn it every day since it came into my possession.