It may be remembered in the "Story of John Powles" that when, as a perfect stranger to Mr. Fletcher, I walked one evening into the Steinway Hall, I heard him describe the circumstances of my old friend's death in a very startling manner. It made such an impression on me that I became anxious to hear what more Mr. Fletcher might have to say to me in private, and for that purpose I wrote and made an appointment with him at his private residence in Gordon Square. I did not conceal my name, and I knew my name must be familiar to him; for although he had only just arrived from America, I am better known as an author in that country perhaps than in this. But I had no intention of gauging his powers by what he told me of my exterior life; and by what followed, his guide "Winona" evidently guessed my ideas upon the subject. After the sÉance I wrote thus concerning it to the Banner of Light, a New York Spiritualistic paper:—

"I had seen many clairvoyants before, both in public and private, and had witnessed wonderful feats of skill on their part in naming and describing concealed objects, and reading print or writing when held far beyond their reach of sight; but I knew the trick of all that. If Mr. Fletcher is going to treat me to any mental legerdemain, I thought, as I took my way to Gordon Square, I shall have wasted both my time and trouble upon him; and, I confess, as I approached the house, that I felt doubtful whether I might not be deceived against my senses by the clever lecturer, whose eloquence had charmed me into desiring a more intimate acquaintance with him. Even the private life of a professional person soon becomes public property in London; and had Mr. Fletcher wished to find out my faults and failings, he had but to apply to ——, say, my dearest friend, or the one upon whom I had bestowed most benefits, to learn the worst aspect of the worst side of my character. But the neat little page-boy answered my summons so promptly that I had no time to think of turning back again; and I was ushered through a carpeted hall, and up a staircase into a double drawing-room, strewn with evidence that my clairvoyant friend possessed not only artistic taste, but the means to indulge it. The back room into which I was shown was hung with paintings and fitted with a luxurious causeuse, covered with art needlework, and drawn against the open window, through which might be seen some fine old trees in the garden below, and Mr. Fletcher's dogs enjoying themselves beneath their shade. Nothing could be further removed from one's ideas of a haunt of mystery or magic, or the abode of a man who was forced to descend to trickery for a livelihood. In a few minutes Mr. Fletcher entered the room and saluted me with the air of a gentleman. We did not proceed to business, however, until he had taken me round his rooms, and shown me his favorite pictures, including a portrait of Sara Bernhardt, etched by herself, in the character of Mrs. Clarkson in L'EtrangÈre. After which we returned to the back drawing-room, and without darkening the windows or adopting any precautions, we took our seats upon the causeuse facing each other, whilst Mr. Fletcher laid his left hand lightly upon mine. In the course of a minute I observed several convulsive shivers pass through his frame, his eyes closed, and his head sunk back upon the cushions, apparently in sleep. I sat perfectly still and silent with my hand in his. Presently he reopened his eyes quite naturally, and sitting upright, began to speak to me in a very soft, thin, feminine voice. He (or rather his guide "Winona") began by saying that she would not waste my time on facts that she might have gathered from the world, but would confine herself to speaking of my inner life. Thereupon, with the most astonishing astuteness, she told me of my thoughts and feelings, reading them off like a book. She repeated to me words and actions that had been said and done in privacy hundred of miles away. She detailed the characters of my acquaintance, showing who were true and who were false, giving me their names and places of residence. She told me the motives I had had for certain actions, and what was more strange, revealed truths concerning myself which I had not recognized until they were presented to me through the medium of a perfect stranger. Every question I put to her was accurately answered, and I was repeatedly invited to draw further revelations from her. The fact being that I was struck almost dumb by what I had heard, and rendered incapable of doing anything but marvel at the wonderful gift that enabled a man, not only to read each thought that passed through my brain, but to see, as in a mirror, scenes that were being enacted miles away with the actors concerned in them and the motives that animated them. "Winona" read the future for me as well as the past, and the first distinct prophecy she uttered has already most unexpectedly come to pass. When I announced that I was satisfied, the clairvoyant laid his head back again upon the cushions, the same convulsive shudders passed through his frame, and in another minute he was smiling in my face, and hoping I had a good sÉance."

This is part of the letter I wrote concerning Mr. Fletcher to the Banner of Light. But a description of words, however strongly put, can never carry the same weight as the words themselves. So anxious am I to make this statement as trustworthy as possible, however, that I will now go further, and give the exact words as "Winona" spoke them to me on that occasion, and as I took them down from her lips. Some parts I must omit, not for my own sake, but because of the treachery they justly ascribed to persons still living in this world. But enough will, I trust, remain to prove how intimately the spirit must have penetrated to my inner life. This is, then, the greater part of what "Winona" said to me on the 27th of June, 1879:

"You are a Child of Destiny, who never was a child. Your life is fuller of tragedies than any life I ever read yet. I will not tell you of the past facts, because they are known to the world, and I might have heard them from others. But I will speak of yourself. I have to leave the earth-world when I come in contact with you, and enter a planetary sphere in which you dwell (and ever must dwell) alone. It is as if you were in a room shut off from the rest of mankind. You are one of the world's magnets. You have nothing really in common with the rest. You draw people to you, and live upon their life; and when they have no more to give, nor you to demand, the liking fades on both sides. It must be so, because the spirit requires food the same as the body; and when the store is exhausted, the affection is starved out, and the persons pass out of your life. You have often wondered to yourself why an acquaintance who seemed necessary to you to-day you can live perfectly well without to-morrow. This is the reason. More than that, if you continue to cling to those whose spiritual system you have exhausted, they would poison you, instead of nourishing you. You may not like it, but those you value most you should oftenest part with. Separation will not decrease your influence over them; it will increase it. Constant intercourse may be fatal to your dearest affections. You draw so much on others, you empty them, and they have nothing more to give you. You have often wondered, too, why, after you have lived in a place a little while, you become sad, weary, and ill—not physically ill, but mentally so—and you feel as if you must leave it, and go to another place. When you settle in this fresh place, you think at first that it is the very place where you will be content to live and die; but after a little while the same weariness and faintness comes back again, and you think you cannot breathe till you leave it, as you did the other. This is not fancy. It is because your nature has exhausted all it can draw from its surroundings, and change becomes a necessity to life. You will never be able to live long in any place without change, and let me warn you never to settle yourself down anywhere with the idea of living there entirely. Were you forced to do so, you would soon die. You would be starved to death spiritually. All people are not born under a fate, but you were, and you can do very little to change it. England is the country of your fate. You will never prosper in health, mind, or money in a foreign country. It is good to go abroad for change, but never try to live there. You are thinking of going abroad now, but you will not remain there nearly so long as you anticipate. Something will arise to make you alter your plans—not a real trouble—but an uneasiness. The plan you think of will not answer." (This prediction was fulfilled to the letter.) "This year completes an era in your professional career—not of ill-luck, so much as of stagnation. Your work has been rather duller of late years. The Christmas of 1879 will bring you brighter fortune. Some one who has appeared to drop you will come forward again, and take up your cause, and bring you in much money." (This also came to pass.) "You have not nearly reached the zenith of your success. It is yet to come. It is only beginning. You will have another child, certainly one, but I am not sure if it will live in this world. I do not see its earth-life, but I see you in that condition.

"Your nervous system was for many years strung up to its highest tension—now it is relaxed, and your physical powers are at their lowest ebb. You could not bear a child in your present condition. You must become much lighter-hearted, more contented and at ease before that comes to pass. You must have ceased to wish for a child, or even to expect it. You have never had a heart really at ease yet. All your happiness has been feverish.

"I see your evil genius. She is out of your life at present, but she crossed your path last year, and caused you much heart-burning, and not without reason. It seems to me that some sudden shock or accident put an end to the acquaintance; but she will cross your path again, and cause you more misery, perhaps, than anything else has done. She is not young, but stout, and not handsome, as it seems to me. She is addicted to drinking. I see her rolling about now under the influence of liquor. She has been married more than once. I see the name —— —— written in the air. She would go any lengths to take that you value from you, even to compassing your death. She is madly in love with what is yours. She would do anything to compass her ends—not only immoral things, but filth—filth. I have no hesitation in saying this. Whenever she crosses your path, in public or private, flee from her as from a pestilence." (This information was correct in every detail. The name was given at full length. I repeat it as a specimen of the succinctness of intelligence given through trance mediumship.) "1883 will be a most unfortunate year for you. You will have a severe illness, your friends will not know if you are going to live or die, and during this illness you will endure great mental agony, caused through a woman, one of whose names begins with ——. You will meet her some time before, and she will profess to be your dearest friend. I see her bending over you, and telling you she is your best friend, and you are disposed to believe it. She is as tall as you are, but does not look so tall from a habit she has of carrying herself. She is not handsome, strictly speaking, but dark and very fascinating. She has a trick of keeping her eyes down when she speaks. She is possibly French, or of French extraction, but speaks English. She will get a hold upon ——'s mind that will nearly separate you." (At this juncture I asked, "How can I prevent it?") "If I told you, that if you went by the 3 o'clock train from Gower Street, you would be smashed, you would not take that train. When you meet a woman answering this description, stop and ask yourself whether she is the one I have warned you against, before you admit her across the threshold of your house.

"——'s character is positive for good, and negative for evil. If what is even for his good were urged upon him, he would refuse to comply; but present evil to him as a possible good, and he will stop to consider whether it is not so. If he is to be guided aright, it must be by making him believe it would be impossible for him to go wrong. Elevate his nature by elevating his standard of right. Make it impossible for him to lower himself, by convincing him that he would be lowered. He is very conceited. Admiration is the breath of his life. He is always thinking what people will say of him or his actions. He is very weak under temptation, especially the temptation of flattery. He is much too fond of women. You have a difficult task before you, and you have done much harm already through your own fault. He believes too little in the evil of others—much too little. If he were unfaithful to those who trust him, he would be quite surprised to find he had broken their hearts. Your work is but beginning. Hitherto all has been excitement, and there has been but little danger. Now comes monotony and the fear of satiety. Your fault through life has been in not asserting the positive side of your character. You were born to rule, and you have sat down a slave. Either through indolence or despair of success, you have presented a negative side to the insults offered you, and in the end you have been beaten. You make a great mistake in letting your female friends read all your joys and sorrows. Men would sympathize and pity. Women will only take advantage of them. Assert your dignity as mistress in your own house, and don't let those visitors invite themselves who do not come for you. You are, as it were, the open door for more than one false friend. I warn you especially against two unmarried women—at least, if they are married, I don't see their husbands anywhere. They are both too fond of ——; one very much too fond of him, and you laugh at it, and give your leave for caresses and endearments, which should never be permitted. If I were to tell them that they visit at your house for ----, and not for you, they would be very indignant. They give you presents, and really like you; but —— is the attraction, and with one of them it only needs time, place and opportunity to cause the ruin of ---- and yourself. She has an impediment in walking. I need say no more. She wants to become still more familiar, and live under the same roof with you. You must prevent it. The other is doing more harm to herself than to anyone else. She is silly and romantic, and must dream of some one. It is a pity it should be encouraged by familiarity. —— has no feeling for them beyond pity and friendship, but it is not necessary he should love a woman to make her dangerous to him. As far as I can see your lives extend, —— will love you, and you will retain your influence over him if you choose to do so. But it is in your own hands what you make of him. You must not judge his nature by your own. You are shutting yourself up too much. You should be surrounded by a circle of men, so that you might not draw influence from —— alone. You should go out more, and associate with clever men, and hear what they have to say to you. You must not keep so entirely with ——. It is bad for both of you. You are making too great a demand upon his spiritual powers, and you will exhaust them too soon. A woman cannot draw spiritual life from women only. She must take it from men. There is another acquaintance I must warn you against ——; a widow, fair hair, light eyes, not clever, but cunning. She has but one purpose in visiting you. She would like to stand in your shoes. She would not hesitate to usurp your rights. Be civil to her if you will, but do not encourage her visits. It were best if she passed out of your lives altogether. She can never bring you any good luck. She may be the cause of much annoyance yet. —— should have work, active and constant, or his health will fail, living in idleness, spiritually and bodily. You tell him too often that you love him. Let him feel there is always a higher height to gain, a lower depth to fall to, in your esteem. He is not the only man in the world. Why should you deceive him by saying so? You are much to blame." (Considering that Mr. Fletcher had never seen, or, as far as I knew, heard of the persons he mentioned in this tirade, it becomes a matter of speculation where or from whom he gathered this keen insight to their character and personalities, every word of which I can vouch for as being strictly true.)

"Many spirits are round you. Some wish to speak.... A grand and noble spirit stands behind you, with his hands spread in blessing over your head. He is your father. He sends this message: 'My dear child, there were so many influences antagonistic to my own in your late married life, that I found it very difficult to get near you. Now they are removed. The present conditions are much more favorable to me, and I hope to be with you often, and to help you through the life that lies before you.' There is the face of a glorified spirit, just above your head, and I see the name 'Powles.' This spirit is nearer you, and more attached to you than any other in Spirit Land. He comes only to you, and one other creature through you—your second child. He says you will know him by the token, the song; you sung to him upon his death-bed. His love for you is the best and purest, and he is always by you, though lower influences sometimes forbid his manifesting himself. Your child comes floating down, and joins hands with him. She is a very pure and beautiful spirit. She intimates that her name on earth was the same as yours, but she is called by another name in the spheres—a name that has something to do with flowers. She brings me a bunch of pure white lilies, tinged with blue, with blue petals, tied with a piece of blue ribbon, and she intimates to me by gesture that her spirit-name has something to do with them. I think I must go now, but I hope you will come and sit with me again. I shall be able to tell you more next time. My name is 'Winona,' and when you ask for me I will come. Good-bye...."

This was the end of my first sÉance with Mr. Fletcher, and I think even sceptics will allow that it was sufficiently startling for the first interview with an entire stranger. The following year I wrote again to the Banner of Light concerning Mr. Fletcher, but will only give an extract from my letter. "I told you in my letter of last year that I had held a sÉance with Mr. Fletcher of so private a nature that it was impossible to make it public. During that interview 'Winona' made several startling prophecies concerning the future, which, it may interest your readers to know, have already been fulfilled. Wishing to procure some further proofs of Mr. Fletcher's power before I wrote this letter to you, I prepared a different sort of test for him last week. From a drawer full of old letters I selected, with my eyes shut, four folded sheets of paper, which I slipped into four blank envelopes, ready prepared for them—still without looking—and closed them in the usual manner with the adhesive gum, after which I sealed them with sealing wax. I carried these envelopes to Mr. Fletcher, and requested "Winona" to tell me the characters of the persons by whom their contents had been written. She placed them consecutively to the medium's forehead, and as she returned them to me, one by one, I wrote her comments on each on the side of the cover. On breaking the seals, the character of each writer was found to be most accurately defined, although the letters had all been written years before—(a fact which "Winona" had immediately discovered). She also told me which of my correspondents were dead, and which living. Here, you will observe, there could have been no reaction of my own brain upon that of the sensitive, as I was perfectly ignorant, until I reopened the envelopes, by whom the letters had been sent to me. Two months ago I was invited to join in a speculation, of the advisability of which I felt uncertain. I went therefore to Mr. Fletcher, and asked for an interview with "Winona," intending to consult her in the matter. But before I had time to mention the subject, she broached it to me, and went on to speak of the speculation itself, of the people concerned in it, and the money it was expected to produce; and, finally, she explained to me how it would collapse, with the means that would bring it to an end, putting her decided veto on my having anything to do with it. I followed "Winona's" advice, and have been thankful since that I did so, as everything has turned out just as she predicted."

I think those people who desire to gain the utmost good they can out of clairvoyance should be more ready to listen and learn, and less to cavil and to question. Many who have heard me relate the results of my experience have rushed off pell-mell to the same medium, perhaps, and came away woefully disappointed. Were they to review the interview they would probably find they had done all the talking, and supplied all the information, leaving the clairvoyant no work to do whatever. To such I always say, whether their aim is to obtain advice in their business, or news of a lost friend, Be perfectly passive, until the medium has said all he or she may have to say. Give them time to become en rapport with you, and quietude, that he may commune with the spirits you bring with you; for it is they, and not his controls, that furnish him with the history of your life, or point out the dangers that are threatening. When he has finished speaking, he will probably ask if you have any questions to put to him, and then is your turn for talking, and for gaining any particular information you may wish to acquire. If these directions are carried out, you are likely to have a much more satisfactory sÉance than otherwise.