There are two kinds of vision, and each of these may be perceived in two different ways. The two sorts of vision are called the Direct Vision and the Symbolic Vision.

The first of these is an exact representation of some scene or incident which has taken place in the past or will subsequently be experienced in the future. It may have relation to the experience of the seer, or of those who are present at the sitting, or yet may have a general or public application.

The second order of vision is a representation by ideograph, symbol or other indirect means, of events similar to those conveyed by direct vision. The visions of Ezekiel and John of Patmos are of the symbolic order, and although to the seers themselves there probably was a very clear apperception of their import, yet for others they require interpretation. In most cases it will be found that the nature of the vision has relation to that sphere of life and interest in which the seer or those for whom he is serving are concerned. But this is not always the case, for there are some peculiarly sensitive seers whose visions have a wider range and a more general application. In the first case it would seem that the impressions latent in the individual sphere of subconscious activity are brought into evidence, and in the other case the seer comes into relations with the world-soul or earth-sphere, so that political, social and cosmic events are brought out of latency into conscious perception. In most cases it will be found that answers to questions are conveyed by symbols, though this is not an invariable rule, as will appear from the following remarks.

The vision, when it occurs, may be conveyed in one of two ways: first, as a vivid picture affecting the focus and retina of the eye, perfect in its outline and colouring, and giving the sense of nearness or distance; secondly, as a vivid mental impression accompanied by a hazy or dim formation in the “field” of vision. In this latter form it becomes an apperception rather than a perception, the mind receiving the impression of the vision to be conveyed before it has had time to form and define itself in the field.

As already intimated, there appears to be a connection between the temperamental peculiarities of the two classes of clairvoyants and the kind of vision developed in them. Thus the direct vision is more generally found in association with the passive temperament. The direct vision is neither so regular nor so constant as the symbolic vision owing to the peculiarities of the negative or passive subject. When it does develop, however, the direct vision is both lucid and actual, and has literal fulfilment in the world of experience and fact. It is an actual representation of what has actually happened or will have place in the future, or yet may be presently happening at some place more or less distant.

The symbolic vision, on the other hand, is more generally developed in the positive or active type of seer. It has the advantage of being more regular and constant in its occurrence than the direct vision, while at the same time being open to the objection that it is frequently misinterpreted. Nothing shows this better perhaps than the various interpretations which have been made of the Apocalypse.

The positive temperament appears to throw off the mental images as speedily as they are developed in the subconscious area, and goes out to meet them in a mood of speculative enquiry. But the passive temperament most frequently feels first and sees afterwards, the visionary process being entirely devoid of speculation and mental activity. In a word, the distinction between them is that the one sees and thinks while the other feels and sees.

The manner in which the visions appear to develop in the field requires some description, and for reasons which will presently appear it is essential that the earliest experiments should be made in the light of a duly informed expectancy.

At first the crystal or mirror will appear to be overclouded by a dull, smoky vapour which presently condenses into milky clouds among which are seen innumerable little gold specks of light, dancing in all directions, like gold-dust in a sunlit air. The focus of the eye at this stage is inconstant, the pupil rapidly expanding and contracting, while the crystal or mirror alternately disappears in a haze and reappears again. Then suddenly the haze disappears and the crystal looms up into full view, accompanied by a complete lapse of the seer into full consciousness of his surroundings.

This may be the only experience during the first few sittings. It may be that of many. But if it occurs it is an entirely satisfactory and hopeful symptom. For sooner or later, according to the degree of susceptibility or responsiveness in the subject, there will come a moment when the milky-looking clouds and dancing starlights will suddenly vanish and a bright azure expanse like an open summer sky will fill the field of vision. The brain will now be felt to palpitate spasmodically, as if opening and closing again in the coronal region; there will be a tightening of the scalp about the base of brain, as if the floor of the cerebrum were contracting; the seer will catch his breath with a spasmodic sigh and the first vision will stand out clear and life-like against the azure screen of space.

Now the danger at this supreme moment is that the seer will be surprised into full waking consciousness. During the process of abstraction which precedes every vision or series of visions, the consciousness of the seer is gradually but imperceptibly withdrawn from physical surroundings. He forgets that he is seated in a particular place or room, that he is in the company of another or others. He forgets that he is gazing into a crystal or mirror. He knows nothing, sees nothing, hears nothing, save that which is being enacted before the senses of his soul. He loses sight for the time even of his own identity and becomes as it were merged in the vision itself.

When, therefore, his attention is suddenly arrested by an apparition, startling in its reality and instantaneous production, the reaction is likely to be both rapid and violent, so that the seer is frequently carried back into full waking consciousness. When, however, the mind is previously instructed and warned of this stage of the process, a steady and self-possessed attitude is ensured and a subconscious feeling of expectancy manifests at the critical moment. I have known so many cases of people being surprised out of clairvoyance and so to have lost what has often been an isolated experience, that this treatise will be wholly justified if by the inclusion of this warning the novice comes successfully through his first experience of second sight.

We come now to the point where it becomes necessary to consider other important reactions which the development of any psychic sense involves. To some favoured few these supernormal faculties appear to be given without any cost to themselves. Perhaps they are direct evolutional products, possibly psychic inheritances; but to such as have them no price is asked or penalty imposed.

Others there are who are impelled by their own evolutional process to seek the development in themselves of these psychic powers; and to these a word of warning seems necessary, so that at the risk of appearing didactic I must essay the task. To some it may seem unwelcome, to others redundant and supererogatory. But we are dealing with a new stage in evolutional progress the waking up of new forces in ourselves and the prospective use of a new set of faculties. It is of course open to anybody to experiment blindly, and none will seek to deter them save those who have some knowledge of the attendant dangers, and which knowledge alone can help us to avoid. I should consider the man more fool than hero who, in entire ignorance of mechanics and aeronautics, stepped on board an aeroplane and started the engines running. Even the most skilful in any new field of experiment or research consciously faces certain but unknown dangers. The victims of the aeroplane brave pioneers of human enterprise and endeavour that they were fell by lack of knowledge. By lack of knowledge also have the humane efforts of many physicians been cut short at the outset of what might have been a successful career. It was this very lack of knowledge they knew to be the greatest of all dangers, and it was this they had set out to remedy.

It is not less dangerous when we begin to pursue a course of psychic development. The ordinary functions of the mind are well within our knowledge and control. There is always the will by which we may police the territory under our jurisdiction and government. It is another matter when we seek to govern a territory whose peculiar features and native laws and customs are entirely unknown to us. It is obvious that here the will-power, if directed at all, is as likely to be effectual for evil as for good. The psychic faculties may indeed be opened up and the unknown region explored, but at fatal cost, it may be, to all that constitutes normal sanity and physical well-being; in which case one may say with Hamlet it be better to “bear those ills we have, than fly to others that we know not of.”

Some of the conditions imposed upon those who, not being naturally gifted in this direction, would wish to experiment in clairvoyant development, may conveniently be stated and examined in another chapter.