<h2><SPAN name="APPENDIX" id="APPENDIX"></SPAN>APPENDIX.</h2>
<p>I have referred in the preceding pages to the loss of several letters,
which I should have been glad to insert here.</p>
<p>The following very interesting ones I have fortunately retained. I give
them verbatim, only suppressing the names of the writers, as requested.</p>
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<h3>LETTER I.</h3>
<p class="right"><i>Aug. 18, 1854.</i></p>
<p><span class="smcap">Madam</span>,</p>
<p>I have received your kind favor of the 15th, and I really feel that I
must now apologize to you, for venturing so quickly to call in question
the accuracy of your details. Being unaware, however, of the marvellous
coincidence of the <i>two dreams</i>, I feel assured you at once appreciated
the motives which alone impelled me to write.</p>
<p>Allow me, then, to attempt a narration of the particulars referred to in
my last, as having come under my own observation.</p>
<p>Two intimate friends of mine (clergymen of the Church of England) and
one of whom is unmarried, have for the last three years occupied a large
old-fashioned house in the country. It is a very pretty place—stands
within its own grounds—and is quite aloof from any other dwellings. It
has long had the reputation in the neighbourhood of being haunted, in
consequence, it is said, of a former proprietor having committed suicide
there. The story goes thus, he was <i>laid out</i> in a chamber which is now
called the spare room, and is the scene of what I am about to relate. I
may as well tell you that it was only on my last visit, some six weeks
since, that I became at all aware of the <i>character</i> of the mansion, for
my friends felt so annoyed at what has taken place, that they purposely
avoided communicating to their visitors what they thought might make
them anything but comfortable.</p>
<p>On that occasion there happened to be on a visit to my friend's wife, a
lady very nearly related to him. She had the spare room assigned to her
as a chamber, and on the very first night of her arrival was so
terrified by what took place that she would not again sleep there
without company.</p>
<p>She stated that in the middle of the night she was alarmed by the most
unearthly groanings and lamentations—the voice seemed close to her
bedside. It was afterwards attended by a rustling noise, and she
distinctly felt the curtains at the foot of the bed removed. Now, as my
knowledge of what was going on could not be disputed, my friends
admitted that it was not the <i>first</i> time these noises had been heard,
nay, that in two instances the apparition of a form in grave-clothes had
been seen; the one occurring to a young gentleman of about twenty years
of age, who happened to be visiting them, and the other to one of their
own servants. In the former case, it appears that the young man was
sitting rather late at night in the study reading—all the family being
in bed—when the form emerged, apparently, from the wall dividing the
study from the haunted chamber. It remained a short time only and then
melted away. So great was the young man's terror that he has never been
near the place since. The servant also described a similar appearance,
and no one in the house who saw her terror could believe it acted.
Independently of all this, no less than four gentlemen, two of them from
the University, have experienced all the unearthly groanings and
be-wailings before mentioned, and in nearly every instance the parties
were, like myself, ignorant of the character attributed to the house.
But I now come to my own experience.</p>
<p>I was on a visit to my friends about twelve months since, when I met a
gentleman who had just left the army for the church. He appeared about
21 years of age, and there was that indescribable <i>something</i> in his
manner which charmed me immediately. Without any pretence to being set
up—so to speak—in piety, there was yet <i>that</i> in his sunny countenance
and air of cheerfulness, which made you feel that he had been called to
a brighter path of usefulness. I certainly very much admired him, and I
have since learnt that he is a general favourite. On retiring to rest I
found that he was to occupy the next room—not the study side.</p>
<p>From a variety of causes I could not sleep—but the imaginative powers
were not particularly aroused—my thoughts were of very prosy and
worldly things. As near as I could recollect, about an hour after I had
been in bed, I heard the most dreadful groans followed by exclamations
of the most horrible kind. The voice certainly <i>seemed</i> in the room, and
was continued for at <i>least two hours</i>, at intervals of about ten
minutes. It was that of a man who had committed a deadly sin which could
never be pardoned! The agony seemed to me to be intense.</p>
<p>Will you believe it, Madam, in spite of what I thought of my
acquaintance of the next chamber, I ascribed it to him. I believed
little in the supernatural, and concluded it to be some dreadful dream.
It is astonishing the thought never struck me that a <i>continuous</i> dream
of such a character was scarcely possible. It did not, however, and
despite of its unearthly character, and the apparent woe of the
unfortunate one—the despair, as I said before, of a lost soul—I
continued to associate it all with my neighbour next door, until the
events which occurred at my last visit entirely upset my conviction, and
I became at once assured I had been doing him a great injustice.</p>
<p>Like some of the cases in the "Night Side of Nature," you will perceive
here a great difference in the manifestations—to some it was given to
<i>hear</i>, to others to <i>see</i>. Are you still of opinion that this results
from what you term comparative freedom of <i>rapport</i>! Do you not think
there <i>are</i> times when the material may give place to the supernatural?
I admit freely the truth of spectral illusions—I have myself
experienced one—but knew it to be nothing more. Still, notwithstanding
this, and my further belief in a <i>certain</i> connection of mind and
matter, I cannot altogether cast from me the persuasion that the
Almighty One may <i>at times</i> think fit to exercise a power independent of
all rule, for the attainment of certain ends to us, perhaps, unknown.</p>
<p>I cannot conclude without telling you that with regard to what I have
mentioned above, nothing in the shape of <i>trick</i> could possibly have
been practised. Trusting I may not have trespassed too much on your
patience, I will now remain, Madam, yours very respectfully,</p>
<p class="right">J. H. H.</p>
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<h3>LETTER II.</h3>
<p class="right"><i>Gloucestershire, June 10, 1854.</i></p>
<p><span class="smcap">Madam</span>,</p>
<p>Being not long ago on a visit of some days at the house of a friend, I
happened to meet with your work, entitled "The Night side of Nature."</p>
<p>The title struck my imagination, and opening the book I was delighted to
find that it treated of subjects which had long engaged my serious
thoughts. I was much pleased to see in you such an able and earnest
protester against the cold scepticism of the age in reference to truths
of the highest order, and those too sustained by a body of evidence
which in any other case would be esteemed irresistible. I must also say
that I never met with so great a number of well authenticated facts in
any other work as you have given us, whilst the truly catholic spirit of
your theological reflections, was to me pecularly refreshing. I once had
a thought of making a similar collection, that design I have however
abandoned, the state of my health not admitting of much literary labour.
I could relate to you many things as remarkable as any you have
described, for the truth of which I can vouch. I will mention one of a
most singular nature, and should you be inclined to read anything more
from me on these matters, I shall feel a pleasure in the communication.
Writing letters I find to be a relief from a melancholy, induced some
two years ago by a variety of heavy afflictions, and this must be my
apology for addressing you. But to my narrative:—</p>
<p>Shortly after I entered the ministry, I was introduced to a gentleman of
very superior mind who belonged to the same profession, and whom I had
never seen equalled for the genius and eloquence which his conversation
displayed.</p>
<p>I became at once attached to him, and for some reason or other he
evinced a desire to cultivate my friendship. After some months of most
agreeable intercourse had elapsed, he was taken seriously ill, and one
evening I was hastily summoned to his house. On my entering his chamber
he requested that we might be left alone, and he then told me that it
was his impression that his disease was mortal—that many supernatural
occurrances had marked his life, which he desired might be given to the
world when he was gone, and that he wished me to perform this office.
Having expressed my willingness to gratify him, he commenced the chapter
of extraordinaries. Here is one event in his remarkable history. Prior
to his becoming a minister and when in humble circumstances, he lodged
at the house of a tradesman at a certain sea-port town in W—s. He was
then in perfect health. One night he retired to rest in peculiarly good
spirits, and as his custom was (for it was then summer) he sat near the
window and gazed for some time on the beauties of nature. He then amused
himself for a while by humming a tune, when presently on looking towards
the door, he saw the figure of a man enter—his dress was a blood red
night cap, flannel jacket, and breeches. The man approached the bed (his
countenance and walk indicating extreme illness), threw himself upon it,
gave several groans and apparantly expired. My friend was so filled with
horror that he lost all power of speech and motion, and remained fixed
on his seat till morning, when he told his landlord the occurrence of
the night, and declared that unless they could find him other apartments
he would leave them that very day. The honest people were disinclined to
part with him and agreed to accommodate him on the ground-floor. About
<i>twelve months after this</i>, he went out on a market day for the purpose
of purchasing some provisions, and when he returned, he heard that his
old room was taken; but what was his surprise to find in the new lodger
the very form, with the very same dress that had so terrified him a year
before!</p>
<p>The man was then very ill: he died in a few weeks, and the circumstances
were without <i>any exception</i> the same as those which my friend had
witnessed. This is one of those cases in which it is extremely difficult
to ascertain the design of the appearance.</p>
<p>I should much like to know what conjecture you would form, as to the
<i>modus</i> and end of such a singular incident.</p>
<p>Of the veracity of the narrator it was impossible for me to doubt. As
this minister is still <i>living</i> I am not at liberty to mention his
name.</p>
<p>Pray excuse the freedom of thus addressing you, and believe me to be</p>
<p><span style="margin-left: 25em;">Madam, with every sentiment</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 30em;">of respect and esteem,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 35em;">Yours, very truly,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 25em;">Mrs. C. Crowe. R. I. O.</span></p>
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<h3>LETTER III.</h3>
<p class="right"><i>Gloucestershire, June 21, 1854.</i></p>
<p><span class="smcap">Madam</span>,</p>
<p>As I find that another communication will not be unacceptable, I proceed
to detail a few cases. My first relates to the minister, a part of whose
history I have given you, and belongs to the class of prophetic dreams.
When he had resolved to study for the ministry and through the influence
of friends, had obtained admission to a Dissenting College; as the day
affixed for his departure drew near, he was filled with anxiety, from
the fact that he had not even money to pay his travelling expenses.</p>
<p>He did not like to borrow, and he had no reason to conclude that any
one suspected the miserable state of his finances. The evening before
his expected removal, he laid down to rest with a troubled heart. This
was in the very same seaport where the circumstance happened which I
have already told you. After some hours of great mental suffering sleep
came to his relief, and in his dream there seemed to approach him one of
a most pleasing form, who told him that he not only saw that he was in
distress, but that he well knew the cause of it, and that if he would
walk down on the beach to a certain place which he pointed out as in a
picture, he would find under some loose stones enough for his present
necessities. In the morning, accordingly, almost as soon as it was light
he hastened to the indicated spot and to his great surprise and delight
found a sum amounting to a trifle more than was absolutely necessary for
his journey. I would just, in passing, remark that he said that on
another occasion, his father who died many years before appeared to him
with an angry countenance, and assured him that he would suffer much
from something he had done in reference to his family, but as this was
evidently an unpleasant and even painful topic I did not wish him to
enlarge upon it. The other fact I shall mention, happened to my
grandfather who was also a minister. I am well aware that it is of such
a nature that the relation of it would in most companies excite a burst
of laughter or at least a contemptuous and sceptical smile, but I know I
am addressing one who has studied in a very different school of
philosophy. It was in the large town of B—m where my grandfather
resided for many years, that the event took place. He himself my
grandfather, my aunts, and my mother used often to tell it to their
friends when the conversation turned on the supernatural. I have
probably heard it a hundred times and I am not ashamed to say that on
the testimony of such a man as my grandfather I cannot but yield to it
my belief.</p>
<p>One morning when <i>breakfast had just commenced</i>, my grandfather went
from the table, at which my grandmother also was sitting, into the
passage, for what purpose I have now forgotten, and there he found (for
the front door had been standing open,) a strange looking man in black,
with a shuffling gait and a club foot. He declared that he had an
instantaneous conviction that this was a supernatural appearance, and
that a spirit of evil stood before him. The man in black exclaimed,
moving towards the breakfast room, "I am come to take breakfast with you
this morning." My grandfather convulsively seizing the handle of the
door, said, with a stern look, "you are too late sir," to which the
other instantly replied, "I am not too late for the remnant," and then
rushed into the street. My grandfather followed, and to his amazement
saw this creature at the top of the street, which was of great length,
and in a moment or two he vanished. My grandmother heard a loud talking,
and when my grandfather returned to the table in considerable agitation,
she naturally wished to know what had occurred, but as she was near her
confinement he of course concealed the matter from her. The mysterious
words of the stranger followed him continually, and he puzzled himself
in seeking to explain their meaning. In a few days my grandmother was
confined. The child was dead-born and her life for some time hung in
jeopardy. He now believed he had arrived at the solution of the
difficulty—the infant was the "remnant" referred to.</p>
<p>I am not the subject of remarkable dreams. I had one, however, lately,
and I give it you because it stands connected in my mind with the
knowledge of a singular psychical fact which I am confident will greatly
interest you, if you have not yet fallen upon it in the course of your
reading. About a fortnight ago I thought I saw in my sleep, a young man,
who is assistant to our principal surgeon, come into my room, looking
exceedingly unwell. He laid himself on the other bed in my chamber, and
I thought that he had come there to linger out his last illness, at
which I felt not the least surprise or objection. He seemed to be
perfectly resigned, and presently he began to converse with me, and
after we had talked for some time, whilst he was replying to something I
had said, I distinctly saw his spirit rise up out of his body. He gazed
at the corpse with the deepest interest and pleasure. One moment he
would stand by the head and survey the face, and the next move to the
feet, and then gaze at the entire body. He called me to come and stand
by his side and view this lifeless frame, which I did with as much
placidity as he seemed himself to possess, and without the slightest
idea of their being anything absurd in what I saw. I could not,
however, help saying "O, that I could leave my body and have such a view
of it as you have now of yours!" I remember no more. In the morning I
had occasion to call on a friend, who has a large library containing
many rare books. Not being in the humour for close reading (for I spend
many hours at a time there) I took up from a centre table a volume of a
lighter kind. It happened to be Mrs. Child's "Letters from New York."
Turning the leaves over carelessly, my eye lighted on a chapter headed
"The spirit surveying its own body!" She there says that she was told by
a pious lady, that when once in a swoon, she felt that she left the body
and was <i>standing by it</i> during the whole time it lasted; that she
distinctly heard every word spoken by the doctor and her family, and saw
every movement of their countenances, and all that was done with her
body. I may observe that I have not heard that anything has occurred to
the young man I saw. If I have not already tired your patience you may
draw on my memory for something more. A line to that effect will oblige,</p>
<p><span style="margin-left: 30em;">Yours, very truly,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 25em;">Mrs. C. Crowe. R. I. O.</span></p>
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<h3>LETTER IV.</h3>
<p class="right"><i>Edinburgh, Aug. 10th.</i></p>
<p><span class="smcap">Madam</span>,</p>
<p>In consequence of a long absence abroad, I never had, till recently, an
opportunity of reading your agreeable work, "The Night side of Nature,"
which contains a mass of evidence in favour of your theories, to which I
take the liberty of adding a few cases from my own experience.</p>
<p>Many years ago I lived in a house in Edinburgh, which belonged to my
mother's relatives, and in which my maternal grandfather had died,
several years antecedent to my own birth. The room in which I slept was
that (but at the time unknown to me) in which my relative had expired.
There were two beds in the room—one a large four-poster and the other a
sort of couch. The latter was next the door, and both lay between it and
the window, which was barred and bolted, and opposite to them was the
fireplace, with rather a high mantlepiece. Being summer, the "board" was
on the chimney. It was about eleven o'clock at night; the rest of the
family had retired to rest. As there were only about two inches of
candle left, I placed the candlestick on the mantlepiece, intending to
allow it to burn out, and went to my bed, which was on the couch. I had
just lain down, and was looking towards the candle, when, to my extreme
horror, I perceived a tall old man in his night dress, standing by the
mantlepiece. His sight seemed impaired, for he put forth his hand <i>and
felt for something</i>, and then moved across the fireplace, in doing
which, <i>he obscured the light on passing it</i>. My gaze was riveted on
him. He then turned towards the large bed on my left, and stretching out
his hands attempted with a feeble effort to lay himself down, and in
doing so I heard him <i>sigh</i> distinctly. He disappeared almost at the
same moment. He did not appear to have noticed me. I immediately sprang
out of bed and opening the door on my right hand, called out loudly, but
<i>never left the doorway</i>, as I was resolved that if the figure were that
of a living person there should be no means of egress. On the assembling
of the family in my room, a search was made; but there was nothing to be
seen, and there had been no possibility of a human being having been in
the room; the affair was put down to an <i>illusion</i>. Yet so strong an
impression did it leave on my mind, that a few years since (1851 or 52),
when in India, I published in "Saunder's Magazine," printed at the Delhi
Gazette press, an account of this apparition, in a narrative, which I
wrote called "Idone, or Incidents in the life of a dreamer," and which
with the exception of this introductory vision, was, in reality, a
series of actual dreams of which I had kept a record, and this I
endeavoured to weave into a vague story, with the view of illustrating
how a person might live <i>two distinct lives</i>!</p>
<p>Sometime after the above were published, I read with much interest,
"Swedenborg's Theory of the Spiritual World;" and lately when reading
your work, I was struck with some peculiar resemblances between my own
experience and the cases you cite.</p>
<p>But to return to the family and house in Edinburgh, of my grandfather.
Other members of the family have seen unaccountable figures in the same
house. An aunt of mine and a cousin, one night, met an old woman on the
stairs with a large bunch of keys, and were in the greatest alarm. On
another occasion, on going to open a room which had been locked up for
some time, in order to prepare it for the reception of my eldest uncle,
who had just returned that night from abroad, two members of the family
started back and locked the door again, for on entering they had both
seen the <i>mattrass &c. violently heaved up</i>. On returning with the
servants, nothing was visible of an unusual description. Again, two
relatives occupied the same room, and one night, as the fire was burning
low, after they had gone to bed (the door being locked) they were
alarmed by a sound like wings, over their beds, and by a <i>dusky form</i>
moving about the room. It walked up to the fireplace and seemed
restless. When it had disappeared, they both rose and <i>unlocked</i> the
door, called for assistance, but, as usual, nothing of their visitor was
to be seen. A still more remarkable incident occurred in the same house.
As two of my aunts were sitting opposite the window, at night, they were
startled by the apparition of an absent brother-in-law looking in, and
with a pen in his hand. A few days afterwards the intelligence of his
death arrived. He had been <i>signing his will</i> at the exact time they
had seen his apparation. My eldest uncle shortly after his return from
abroad went to Musselburgh to visit an old school-master, and as he
entered the yard he observed him limping into the school. He tried to
overtake him, and on reaching the door he met one of the tutors, who
informed him that the Dr. had been confined to his bed for some time
with a broken leg.</p>
<p>The same uncle, who was an officer in the army, dreamt that he had
obtained his captaincy by the retirement of an officer of the name of
Patterson (so far as I remember.) There was no such officer then in the
regiment, and he mentioned it as strange that he should have dreamt of a
<i>particular</i> name. A few Gazettes afterwards my uncle obtained his
promotion by an officer of <i>this</i> name being <i>brought in from the
half-pay to sell out in the same Gazette</i>.</p>
<p>I have myself heard the most remarkable and unaccountable noises in my
grandfather's house. The servants were often in the greatest terror. I
have heard, seemingly, the whole of the furniture, in a particular room,
thrown violently about, accompanied with the noise of something rolling
on the floor. At other times I have distinctly heard, as it were, a
boy's marble falling step by step down the stairs and striking against
my door, which was at the foot of them, and yet this was at night, and
there were no children in the house. This annoyance, with that of steps
heard round my bed, was so common as to cease to make any impression on
me.</p>
<p>I may mention that my grandfather was not happy in his family relations,
and died in an uneasy frame of mind, on Christmas eve, 1820. Since my
family sold his house, I have never heard that its new occupants were
disturbed.</p>
<p>I have at different periods of my life had <i>groups</i>, as it were, of very
remarkable allegorical dreams.</p>
<p>It is somewhat singular that involuntary efforts may be made during
sleep, which are I believe beyond the bounds of possibility during
waking moments. Indeed the curious phenomena which you have so ably
criticised, are without limit.</p>
<p>Though you do not approve of the concealment of names, I hope you will
excuse my asking you to do so in the present instance as many of the
parties concerned might be displeased.</p>
<p><span style="margin-left: 25em;">I have the honour to remain,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 30em;">Madam,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 27em;">Your obedient servant,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 20em;">Mrs. Catherine Crowe. H. A.</span></p>
<p>"P.S. I know two remarkable instances of prophetic denunciation or the
power of will, under, of course, the control of Providence. In one
instance, the death of the party denounced, followed on the week
predicted, although at the time he was well. Moreover, the denunciation
was never mentioned to him.</p>
<p>"In the other instance, the accomplishment of the denunciation was
accomplished to the exact day, and under very remarkable circumstances.
I believe this power to be <i>involuntary</i>, and more of the nature of
inspiration."</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2>SECOND PART.</h2>
<h3>LEGENDS OF THE EARTHBOUND.</h3>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />