connecting the
clairvoyant with the scene or event. An interesting example of this last
mentioned phase is that related by W.T. Stead, the English editor and
author, as having happened to himself. Mr. Stead's recital follows:

"I got into bed and was not able to go to sleep. I shut my eyes and waited
for sleep to come; instead of sleep, however, there came to me a
succession of curiously vivid clairvoyant pictures. There was no light in
the room, and it was perfectly dark; I had my eyes shut also. But,
notwithstanding the darkness, I suddenly was conscious of looking at a
scene of singular beauty. It was as if I saw a living miniature about the
size of a magic-lantern slide. At this moment I can recall the scene as if
I saw it again. It was a seaside piece. The moon was shining upon the
water, which rippled slowly on to the beach. Right before me a long mole
ran into the water. On either side of the mole irregular rocks stood up
above the sea-level. On the shore stood several houses, square and rude,
which resembled nothing that I had ever seen in house architecture. No one
was stirring, but the moon was there and the sea and the gleam of the
moonlight on the rippling waters, just as if I had been looking on the
actual scene. It was so beautiful that I remember thinking that if it
continued I should be so interested in looking at it that I should never
go asleep. I was wide awake, and at the same time that I saw the scene I
distinctly heard the dripping of the rain outside the window. Then,
suddenly without any apparent object or reason, the scene changed.

"The moonlight sea vanished, and in us place I was looking right into the
interior of a reading-room. It seemed as if it had been used as a
school-room in the daytime, and was employed as a reading-room in the
evening. I remember seeing one reader who had a curious resemblance to Tim
Harrington, although it was not he, hold up a magazine or book in his hand
and laugh. It was not a picture--it was there. The scene was just as if
you were looking through an opera glass; you saw the play of the muscles,
the gleaming of the eye, every movement of the unknown persons in the
unnamed place into which you were gazing. I saw all that without opening
my eyes, nor did my eyes have anything to do with it. You see such things
as these as if it were with another sense which is more inside your head
than in your eyes. The pictures were apropos of nothing; they had been
suggested by