lve this
greatest of all problems, it is not enough that the communicators
should give us numerous details which would seem at a first glance to
establish their identity, though the few cases in which identity appears
to be proved furnish us with a strong presumption in favour of survival
after death. If George Pelham is what he says he is, future generations
will _owe_ him profound gratitude; he has done all that he could, under
circumstances which are, it appears, very unfavourable, although we are
not in a position to understand the difficulties.

It is not always easy to prove identity, even between the living.
Imagine a man in England, at the end of a telegraph or telephone wire;
imagine that a certain number of his friends at the other end of the
wire, in France, refuse to believe him when he says he is So-and-so, and
say, "Please prove your identity." The unfortunate man will be in
difficulties. He will say, "Do you remember our being together in such a
place?" The reply will be, "Nonsense; somebody has told you of that
incident, and it does not in the least prove that you are the person you
say you are." And so on, and so on. One fact is incontestable, however;
there is somebody at the end of the wire. The telepathic theory asserts
that, in spite of appearances, there is no one at the end of the wire,
or, at least, that no one is there but the medium, temporarily endowed
with powers as mysterious as they are extraordinary. But to return to
George Pelham.

Pelham is not his exact name. The last syllable has been slightly
modified, from motives of discretion. He belonged to a good family in
the United States, which counts Benjamin Franklin amongst its
ancestors. He had studied law, but when his studies were finished he
gave himself up exclusively to literature and philosophy. He had
published two works, which brought him much praise from competent
judges. He had lived for a long time in Boston or its neighbourhood. The
last three years of his life were passed in New York. In February 1892
he fell from his horse and was killed on the spot.

He had interested himself in Psychical Research, though very sceptical
about the matter. He was a member of the American Society, and later of
the American Branch of the Society for Psychical Research. Dr Hodgson
knew him very well, and liked to talk to him on account of the soundness
of his judgment and the liveliness of his intelligence. But neither time
nor circumstances h