h can at times be externalized beyond the
normal bodily limits, which is operative in mesmeric "passes," and which
plays so large and hitherto unsuspected a part in the production of many
physical and psychical phenomena.

15. As we know, it is this "fluid" which is drawn upon, so it is said,
by materializing mediums for the production of their phantoms, and the
following interesting experience seems to confirm this view. I quote
_verbatim_:

"It was an autumn afternoon, about six o'clock. I had returned from
a stroll in the garden, and was in my own room, sitting on a
single-backed easy-chair, leisurely dipping into _Vanity Fair_.
While turning over the pages in search of some favourite passage, I
became aware of an abnormal and quite indescribable sensation. My
chest and breathing seemed inwardly oppressed by some ponderous
weight, while I became conscious of some presence behind me,
exerting a powerful influence on the forces within. On trying to
turn my head to see what this could be, I was powerless to do so,
neither could I lift a hand or move in any way. I was not a little
alarmed and began immediately to reason. Was it a fainting fit
coming on, epilepsy, paralysis--possibly even death? No, the mind
was too much alive, though physically I felt an absolutely passive
instrument, operated upon by some powerful external agent, as if
the current of nerve-force within seemed forcibly drawn together
and focussed on a spot in front of me. I gazed motionless, as
though fascinated, on what was no longer vacant space. There an
oval, misty light was forming, elongatory, widening--yes, actually
developing into a human face and form! Was this hallucination, or
some vision of the unseen, coming in so unexpected fashion? Before
me had arisen a remarkable figure, never seen before in picture or
life--dark-skinned, aged, with white beard, the expression
intensely earnest, the features small, the bald head finely
moulded, lofty over the forehead, the whole demeanour instinct with
solemn grace. The hands, too, how unlike any hands I knew, yet how
expressive! They were dark, long in fingers and narrow in palms,
the veins like sinews, standing out as they moved to and fro in
eager gesture. He was speaking to me in deep tones, as if in urgent
entreaty. What would I not give to hear words from