SPIRITUALISTIC EXPERIENCES 363 



Ou vais-je? et quelle scene a mes yeux se deploie 

 Des bords du lit funebre, ou palpite sa proie 

 Aux lugubres clartes de son pale flambeau, 

 L'impitoyable mort me montre le tombeau. 

 Eternite profonde : Ocean sans rivage ; 

 De ce terme fatal c'est toi que j'envisage; 

 Sur le fleuve du temps, quoi? c'est la que je cours? 

 L'eternite pour l'homme? il vit si peu de jours. 



" Esprit C." 



At San Francisco my time was short, and my experiences 

 were limited to a slate-writing seance of a striking and very 

 satisfactory nature. I went with my brother John who had 

 lived in California nearly forty years, and who, the day 

 before, had bought a folding-slate bound with list to shut 

 noiselessly. The seance was in the morning of a bright 

 sunny day, and we sat at a small table close to a window. 

 Mr. Owen, the editor of the Golden Gate, with a friend (a 

 physician), accompanied us; but they sat a little way from 

 the table, looking on. The medium, Mr. Fred Evans, was 

 quite a young man, whose remarkable gift had been developed 

 under Mr. Owen's guidance. 



From a pile of small slates on a side-table four were taken 

 at a time, cleaned with a damp sponge, and handed to us to 

 examine, then laid in pairs on the table. All our hands were 

 then placed over them till the signal was given, and on our- 

 selves opening them writing was found on both slates. Two 

 other pairs were then similarly placed on the table, on one of 

 which the medium drew two diagonal pencil lines, and on that 

 slate writing was produced in five different colours — deep 

 blue, red, light green-blue, pale red-lilac, deep lilac, and these 

 could be seen all superposed upon the pencil crosslines. My 

 brother's folding-slate was then placed upon the floor a foot 

 or two away from the table, and after we had conversed 

 for a few minutes, keeping it in sight, it was found to be 

 written on both the inner sides. It then occurred to me to 

 ask the medium whether writing could be produced on paper 

 placed between slates. After a moment's pause, as if asking 

 the question of his guides, he told me to take a paper pad, tear 

 off six pieces, and place them all between a pair of slates. 



