eal names and
places of residence. _Mrs. Smiley_, whose admirable patience under
investigation makes her an almost ideal subject, is the chief figure
among my "mediums," and I have tried to give her attitude toward us and
toward her faith as she expressed it in our sittings, although the
conversation is necessarily a mixture of imagination and memory. _Mrs.
Hartley_ is a very real and vigorous character--a professional psychic,
it is true, but a woman of intelligence and power. Those in private life
I have guarded with scrupulous care, and I am sure that none of them,
either private or professional, will feel that I have wilfully
misrepresented what took place. My aim throughout has been to deal
directly and simply with the facts involved.

I have not attempted to be profound or mystical or even scientific, but
I have tried to present clearly, simply, and as nearly without bias as
possible, an account of what I have seen and heard. The weight of
evidence seems, at the moment, to be on the side of the biologists; but
I am willing to reopen the case at any time, although I am, above all,
a man of the open air, of the plains and the mountains, and do not
intend to identify myself with any branch of metapsychical research. It
is probable, therefore, that this is my one and final contribution to
the study of _the shadow world_.

HAMLIN GARLAND.
CHICAGO, _July, 1908_.

THE SHADOW WORLD

I

A hush fell over the dinner-table, and every ear was open and inclined
as Cameron, the host, continued: "No, I wouldn't say that. There are
some things that are pretty well established--telepathy, for instance."

"I don't believe even in telepathy," asserted Mrs. Quigg, a very
positive journalist who sat at his right. "I think even _that_ is mere
coincidence."

Several voices rose in a chorus of protest. "Oh no! Telepathy is real.
Why, I've had experiences--"

"There you go!" replied Mrs. Quigg, still in the heat of her opposition.
"You will all tell the same story. Your friend was dying in Bombay or
Vienna, and his spirit appeared to you, _a la Journal of Psychic
Research_, with a message, at the exact hour, computing difference in
time (which no one ever does), and so on. I know that kind of thing--but
that isn't telepathy."

"What is telepathy, then?" asked little Miss Brush, who paints
miniatures.

"I can't describe a thing that doesn't exist," replied Mrs. Qu