Again, she foretold the arrival of an
important telegram upon a certain day, and even gave
the name of the deliverer of it--a most unlikely
person. Altogether, no one could doubt the reality of
her inspiration, though the lapses were notable. It
was like getting a good message through a very
imperfect telephone.
One other incident of the early war days stands out
in my memory. A lady in whom I was interested had died
in a provincial town. She was a chronic invalid and
morphia was found by her bedside. There was an inquest
with an open verdict. Eight days later I went to have
a sitting with Mr. Vout Peters. After giving me a good
deal which was vague and irrelevant, he suddenly said:
"There is a lady here. She is leaning upon an older
woman. She keeps saying 'Morphia.' Three times she
has said it. Her mind was clouded. She did not mean
it. Morphia!" Those were almost his exact words.
Telepathy was out of the question, for I had entirely
other thoughts in my mind at the time and was expecting
no such message.
Apart from personal experiences, this movement must
gain great additional solidity from the wonderful
literature which has sprung up around it during the
last few years.
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