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Showing results for tags 'An Evening with the Spirits'.
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The protoplasmic ooze results in man. It arrives at thoughts and emotions, it builds lofty ideals and great civilisations. The objector urges that this proof of progress is no proof of the permanence of any personality. No proof, but certainly no suggestion of disproof. Again, we find no trace of waste. Change and the revolution of one form of matter into another are evident to us, but no waste, no loss, is anywhere discoverable. The noblest product of the universe so far as we are certain of it is the rounded and accomplished personality of man. Why should nature everywhere display her absolute incapacity to cast away an atom of her lowest product, and yet be able to plunge into nothingness her very greatest? – the Occult Review, January 1905 A pretense of civility, the height of anthropocentric arrogance: a lime-washed gentleman’s fougere with a pinch of snuff, an insouciant whiff of gin, and the memory of an amorphous, sluggish, protoplasmic greenness. This is what Arthur Conan Doyle’s Tobias Gregson would smell like. A Victorian man, rough-edged but not uncivilized; not outstanding, but dogged; he gets the job done — no matter what. Lime and gin in the bottle. Goes on as a fresh lime cologne. A light tobacco note comes in — is that the snuff? Continues into a masculine cologne and finishes as a somewhat generic lime aftershave. A first cousin to John Watson (the scents, not the characters). This would probably be amazing on a gentleman, but I am a lady.
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Inquiries into the Philosophy and Phenomena of Spiritualism should procure admission to Mr. Morse’s Seances at 15, Southampton Road Holborn, London on Friday Evenings at Eight O’Clock. Don’t be late: polished teakwood, pipe smoke, sugar-clouded absinthe, vetiver, and rum musk. This smells like manly butterscotch at first! Or perhaps like Hot Buttered Whiskey and Tag Upon Avon had a love child. It's a very warm scent, and the tobacco and rum mix to create a sweet, chewy, butteriness. I don't really get much absinthe except maybe when I first put it on, but that's probably part of what's reminding me of Tag Upon Avon. The teakwood is subtle at first, but comes out more in the dry down and grounds the fragrance, keeping the sweetness from turning syrupy, like it is (IMHO) in Hot Buttered Whiskey. This is boozy, but gentler than HBW. I think it could be a cousin of Perversion actually. Very nice. I would totally want to nibble on a guy who smelled like this, but I think it would equally well for a woman.
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The second series commenced at 15, Southhampton Row, on Wednesday evening. Into the present course, the medium, Mr. Shepherd will introduce some of the more marked peculiarities of his singular performance. He sings at each concert in the soprano voice. A marked peculiarity: tonka bean and red sandalwood with orris, lemon peel, and leather. In the imp: A very light, almost powdery scent. I'm getting mainly the orris, with just a touch of leather and vague sweetness - maybe the tonka? There's a hint of a zing at the tail end, which I'm guessing is the lemon peel, although it's not identifiable as so at this stage. Wet: The orris is still dominant, although now the leather runs a close second. No zing, lemon-y or otherwise, though. No tonka or sandalwood that I can detect, alas. Dry: Tonka and sandalwood arrive to save the day! Now the orris/leather (mainly orris at this point, tbh) combo is elegant and subtle, not overwhelmingly powdery. This now smells like the dusting powder an elegant Victorian or Edwardian lady would use. Still no lemon peel that I can pick up, but perhaps that will improve with age.
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Sir, — After sitting for a short time in darkness, we heard raps on the table and on our chairs, after which the whole room vibrated powerfully. The medium, Mr. Herne, was entranced, but was unable to speak. Mr. Kent then described a female spirit as standing behind Mrs. Berry, with arms extended over her head. Mr. Kent took a concertina from the table, and after playing a few airs, Mrs. Berry requested our invisible friends to whistle an accompaniment, which they immediately did through Mr. Kent I the most magnificent manner I ever heard. Every air which was asked for was at once played, and cadences and shakes were whistled in the most finished style. “Home, sweet home!” was the last air played, and a lovely accompaniment like the singing of birds was given by the invisibles. This terminated a most interesting séance. – M. Pearson, 5 July 1870 The tittering whistles of phantasms: rosewood and rose geranium prickled with pink peppercorn, cardamom, white sandalwood, and frankincense. Cadences and Shakes goes on my skin as a pink-peppered rose geranium on white sandalwood. I find a touch of rosewood when I hunt for it. The rose geranium smells similar to the one in The Fox Sisters. The pink pepper is fun and quirky with it; the pepper and sandalwood give spice and texture to the geranium. In drydown, I start to catch a mild frankincense. It reminds me of the soft frank in Season of Ghosts. I'm not yet sure what I think of this one. I feel like it needs a bit of time to come together more -- it hasn't been here long. I'm interested in how it ages, because I think it might mesh and fill out nicely.
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Now, suppose this is to be accepted as the rational and scientific explanation of all the phenomena of this order which have been observed since the human race began to conserve records of its own experience. To what conclusion should we be logically forced? The believe in the objective reality of apparitions under such conditions would have to make way for a new conception, but the point which is really at issue between the materialist and the spiritualist would remain untouched. That issue relates to the permanence of the human personality after death. The spiritualist will point you to his own experiences as affording evidence of the permanence of personality. The materialist is certain that all the experiences of which the spiritualist is conscious result from the operation of natural law. But the eternal question of the soul – “Am I an immortal thing?” – is not to be decided either by the proof of the existence of whole armies of ghosts, or by the rational explanation of all apparitional phenomena whatsoever. The spiritualist falls into an easy error in the supposition that a continuance of personality on a new plane implies a permanence of continuity. What guarantee has a ghost of being immortal? Me not he also perish out of his appointed sphere? And why might we not fancy a whole procession of lives in phantom state – each more ghostly, more attenuated than its forerunner – the ghost of a man, the ghost of a man’s ghost, the ghost of a “ghost’s” ghost, until the thin thing fades into nonentity and slips back into the universal element? The materialist falls into an error parallel with that of the spiritualist when he conceives that a rational explanation of all ghostly phenomena has disposed of a belief in immortality. The concept is as independent of evidence, and as unsupportable by evidence as it is indestructible by evidence. We can neither prove nor disprove, but the balance of reason is still upon the side of the believer and it favours strongly the hope of a continued existence and a continued growth. We can but argue from things known. In all nature we find the clearest evidence of law of progress. – the Occult Review, January 1905 Falling into nonentity and slipping back into the universal element: pallid oakmoss and earthy patchouli tumbling into a void of misty lavender, cistus, and white agarwood. Misty lavender, oakmoss, and a whiff of patchouli. Misty is right! This is wispy, ghostly lavender. Medium throw and wear length.
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As performed by Griffiths Quadrille Band in a Mysteriously Effective Manner and Dedicated to all Lovers of “the Mysterious”. It really was a thing. Rose musk with pink and black pepper, a splash of bay rum, tobacco absolute, and toffee. In the bottle: Dark toffee with something sharp in the background, perhaps the rum. Fresh out of the mailbox this did not smell good but now that it's rested a bit it's much better. Wet on skin: The rose musk and the pink and black pepper come out. The pepper is making this unexpectedly spicy, almost a bit savory until the rum and tobacco come more to the foreground. Dry: I'm getting a sweet musky, spicy tobacco. I tend to amp sweetness so this would probably smell great on a man as well. I would imagine this will get even better with age.
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I can only consider departed spirits and ministering angels, as one innumerable company continually surrounding us. And are they not as nearly united to their fellow soldiers now, as when in the body ! What should hinder ? Gratitude and affection are natives of heaven, and live for ever. Forgetfulness is a property of mortality, and drops off with the body. Therefore, they that loved us in the Lord, will surely love us for ever. Can anything material interrupt the sight or presence of a spirit ? Nay,— ‘Walk within walls no more the passage bar, Than unopposing space of liquid air.’ – the British Spiritual Telegraph, Vol. 3 No. 6, April 1859 Blackened opoponax and frankincense smoke shrouded in wilted roses, black taffeta, and tear-stained lace. A deliciate, somber, soft rose...this scent reminds me of Antique Lace and the Best Lies with some incense wafting through. The rose is pink and faded but still slightly juicy, with a bit of muskiness, but darkened to a lovely sepia around the edges. Wistful and unassuming, but still well estabilished.... I can see this scent fitting in nicely anywhere.
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Undoubtedly the greatest marvel of Spiritualism is the materialisation of the spirit form. It is highly interesting to study the gradual development of this phenomenon. It was not till some years after the advent of modern Spiritualism that materialisation was heard of. At first the spirits had power only to materialise a hand or foot, and that very imperfectly; then they were able to produce faces, several sometimes showing at one séance; but even at that time the spirits prophesied that the time would shortly come when they should be able to materialise a complete human form, and walk about in our midst. That time has now come. On two occasions I have witnessed the phenomenon of a spirit reincarnating itself — putting on a material body and dress — the body to all intents a human body, and the dress fabric of earthly produce. The spirit has not suddenly burst on my view in a perfected form, but slowly evolved out of nothingness before my eyes, and again melted away, repeating the process again and again! – Experiences in Spiritualism: A Record of Extraordinary Phenomena Witnessed Through the Most Powerful Mediums, With Some Historical Fragments Relating to Semiramide, Given by the Spirit of and Egyptian Who Lived Contemporary With Her by Catherine Berry A quiet perfume that emerges slowly out of nonbeing: white musk, ambergris accord, coconut, almond milk, and honeysuckle. Wispy, ethereal and enchanting. When first applied, the coconut leads the way, accompanied by the ambergris and almond milk, but it never strikes me as foody. Once it settles in, the musk and honeysuckle show up and I find I'm in love. Almost defies classification. It's not gourmand, not especially floral, but utterly lovely. Definitely back up bottle worthy.
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During the year 1896 considerable stir was created by the investigation of Dr. Hippolyte Baraduc, of Paris, in the line of “Thought Photography,” which is of interest to psychic investigators generally. Dr. Baraduc claimed to have gotten photographic impressions of his thoughts, “made without sunlight or electricity or contact of any material kind.” These impressions he declared to be subjective, being his own personal vibrations, the result of a force emanating from the human personality, supra-mechanical, or spiritual. The experiments were carried on in a dark room, and according to his statement were highly successful. In a communication to an American correspondent, printed in the New York Herald, January 3, 1897, he writes: “I have discovered a human, invisible light, differing altogether from the cathode rays discovered by Prof. Roentgen.” Dr. Baraduc advanced the theory that our souls must be considered as centers of luminous forces, owing their existence partly to the attraction and partly to the repulsion of special and potent forces bred of the invisible cosmos. A number of French scientific journals took up the matter, and discussed “Thought Photography” at length, publishing numerous reproductions of the physician’s photographs; but the more conservative journals of England, Germany and America remained silent on the subject, as it seemed to be on the borderland [Pg 199]between science and charlatanry. On January 11, 1897, the American newspapers contained an item to the effect that Drs. S. Millington Miller and Carleton Simon, of New York City, the former a specialist in brain physiology, and the latter an expert hypnotist, had succeeded in obtaining successful thought photographs on dry plates from two hypnotized subjects. When the subjects were not hypnotized, the physicians reported no results. As “Thought Photography” is without the pale of known physical laws, stronger evidence is needed to support the claims made for it than that which has been adduced by the French and American investigators. “Thought Photography” once established as a scientific fact, we shall have, perhaps, an explanation of genuine spirit photographs, if such there be. – Hours With the Ghosts; Or XIX Century Witchcraft by Henry R. Evans Mercury-limned lavender, palo santo, and ambrette seed. First impressions from a bottle that landed this morning: I know some people associate lavender with sleep scents, old lady smells and/or medicine, and kudos for all of those things, but thought photography is a blend that shows her potential as a sophisticated note in an elegant perfume. Beautiful strong musky lavender, reminding me of bpal's 18 June 1860. Not getting much Palo Santo at this time. Big throw and great longevity.
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Herewith we present the public with a most accurate, well executed likeness of Dr. Henry Slade, the celebrated medium and clairvoyar who has so confounded science, startled orthodoxy, given the lie to old beliefs, and lead minds into new channels, through his powerful mediumship. As the pubic are always anxious to see the faces of extraordinary men, they will scan carefully the likeness here given. – Pomeroy’s Democrat, September 20, 1873. Bay rum and lemongrass with black pepper, cardamom pod, pine resin, red sandalwood, and cedar. the bay rum and lemongrass give this a centerpiece of rich magical voodoo oils, surrounded by a very light hint of spices and an absolutely swoonworthy woods combo. the whole blend is fantastic, gorgeous, amazing, kinda classy. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VmSRcOUmLK8
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In Mr. Campbell Holms book, The Facts of Psychic Science, which is, and will be always, a most exact and valuable book of reference, there are a number of cases given where people have been transported through solid objects. Inexperienced and foolish people may jeer, but they will find it easier to do so than to refute the evidence. For example, upon June 3rd, 1871, Mrs. Guppy was floated from her own house in Highbury, and appeared upon the table of a room at 61 Lambs Conduit Street, where a séance was being held behind locked doors. A document was signed by the eleven sitters to testify to the fact and they had no possible object in perjuring themselves about the matter. Mrs. Guppy said that the last thing she could remember was sitting with her friend Miss Neyland. That lady deposed that Mrs. Guppy had suddenly vanished from her sight. Four of the sitters accompanied Mrs. Guppy home and heard what her friend had to say. It is difficult to find any flaw in such evidence and it would certainly have been conclusive in a court of law had it been a criminal case. But surely such a transposition is more remarkable than any of Houdinis, and had she done similar things in public her reputation would have been similar to his own. the Edge of the Unknown, Arthur Conan Doyle A séance in progress: polished oak and oxblood leather, rivulets of beeswax, a splash of rose water, and a pulsating throb of ectoplasm. This makes me happy. It's a rather masculine blend, and what comes across when I spray it ON something is mostly the oak with a hint of leather. It smells like a very nice "man office/study" with polished wood cabinets and svelte, leather furniture. In the AIR, the beeswax becomes the dominant feature to my nose, with a bit of spicy wood filling in the background. It's not a heavy scent, and there's something lovely and clean about it, along with something decidedly proper.
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UNCANNY STORY FROM THE ONSET SPIRITUALISTS Wealthy Widow Becomes a Ghost’s Bride The Bangs Sisters, May and Lizzie, Continue to Startle the Peaceful Residents of a Massachusetts Town – the Spirit Bridegroom Charming May Bands and her sister, the great spiritualists, who, when at home, reside in Chicago, have lately startled the natives of Onset, Mass. This statement means more than might appear on the surface when it is added that that little town is almost wholly made up of spiritualists. Thither the Bangs sisters hied themselves some weeks ago to take part in the summer assembly of the eastern societies. They made their headquarters at Happy Home cottage, where they were daily visited by pilgrims in search of friends and relatives long since in the “other world.” Among those visitors was a rich widow from the far west, who wanted to see her lover, who had been a captain in the United States army. The captain, who came from Maryland, died on the eve of his marriage to the rich widow. For a year she has worn widows’ weeds and longed for even a visit from the spirit of her departed lover. Miss Bangs informed her that she could not only produce the captain’s spirit, but that the marriage ceremony that had been cut off by death would be performed in Happy Home cottage. A few days ago an item was given out for publication to the effect that the ceremony had been effectually performed some days before. In speaking of it May Bangs said: “I materialized the form and the lover came out of the cabinet attired in the uniform of an army officer. The premises had been previously examined to prove that there was no mortal about. The materialized spirit asked that the curtains be drawn for a while to shut off the front parlor. The bride wanted him to put on her slipper, and he did. “Only a faint light shone through the room where the minister and others were waiting. He kissed her numerous times. The bride was in a new wedding dress. Then the materialized spirit lover requested that the marriage ceremony be performed, and the request was granted. He placed a ring on her finger. They were together a long time that evening.” – Fort Wayne Sentinel, September 10, 1894 Misted roses and the memory of cologne, salt-wet and bittersweet. The Spirit Groom is gentle rose and salt water on me, like roses and tears. The 'memory of cologne' is very subtle, almost an insinuation more than a note. The first time I tested this, I wasn't sure it would be 'me', despite the lovely rose. But the second time I tested it, it really bloomed on my skin and I found that I kept bringing my wrist to my nose for the watery rose. So I guess this one is a keeper!
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You have it, everyone has it for everyone is born a hypnotist. Would you like to develop your hypnotic powers and wield an influence over others? Would you like to sway the minds of men, make friends and achieve success? You can develop this power in the privacy of your room. Influence the minds, health, and actions of others (results not guaranteed): lavender, mugwort and hops with sandalwood, jasmine sambac, bourbon vanilla, and a mesmerizing wave of white musk. I love the label on this atmo! And I don't know how this is possible, but this is reminding me a bit of a non-floral Erebos. Jasmine-haters, I don't get a lot of jasmine from this at all. Lavender is the primary note, with everything else rounding it out. It's a dry, herbal, musky, vanilla lavender—I only get the sandalwood and jasmine if I'm really looking for them. Another fantastic sleep/chill out scent that I'll keep in the bedroom for dusting linens before bed.
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A tribute to Lajos Pap, a spiritualist medium whose specialty was apporting snakes, lizards, rats, and frogs – live and dead – during séance. A pattering of night-creatures: indigo musk and patchouli croaking with oakmoss and a skittering of gleaming black olibanum. In the Bottle: Inky and dry in the bottle. Very intriguing. The oakmoss is apparent On the Skin: That indigo musk is stunning - slinky and velvety dark. Quite resinous, initially but the musk adds a gorgeous elegance. I like the use of the word "skittering" in the description because this is slick, dark and dry reminiscent of an insect carapace. On the Drydown: I almost get a dark purple (indigo?) floral from this. It is truly magnificent and dark as night.
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My most remarkable experience has been with Dr. H. Slade of New York, for whom I have formed a high regard. I first met him at his residence last November, when, without announcing my name, in three consecutive sittings, at eleven o’clock in the morning, seated at a small, bare table in the centre of a light room, there written on the under side of a slate placed on the table, several communications addressed to me, purporting to come from my deceased friends. I pass over the other manifestations – such as the movement of heavy articles of furniture in plain view, without visible contact – and confine myself to the writing on the slate, which I regarded with most interest… – Thos. W. Waterman, Binghamton, NY, July 14, 1873 The result of a physical law which is not yet understood, and the existence of which has hitherto scarcely been suspected: beeswax candles, chalk, and dust. In the Bottle: Rich beewax and a little bit of a dusty background On the Skin: The beautiful lab beeswax note, rich and sweet. The dry chalky note and dust emerges quite quickly to dry out the blend and tone down the sweetness of the beeswax. I am loving the chalkiness. On the Drydown: Stays fairly consistent through the drydown as a dusty beeswax but the beeswax amps up every now and then. I love it.
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On my arrival (June 5) all appeared fair enough. I found the mediums established on the second floor of a small house in Ninth Street near Arch. There were but two rooms on the floor, a front parlor and a bedroom; the lower floor under both rooms being occupied as a shop for the sale of musical instruments. In a back corner of the parlor was a walnut cabinet, seven feet wide and eight feet high, with a door that opened into the parlor, and two apertures, five and six feet high respectively, both curtained with black cloth. We had lamp-light, shaded but sufficient to enable us to recognize faces and to see everything that passed in the room. After we had examined the cabinet, the medium entered it, closing the door. Soon at one of the apertures appeared a fair, thoughtful young face, a girl of eighteen apparently, by whom I was cordially welcomed in a low, pleasant voice. She returned and spoke to us several times. At the close of the sitting she twice appeared, robed in white, just within the cabinet door; not coming out, however, into the room: the first time (so I was told) that she had ever shown herself in full form. It was evidently a living, moving, thinking being. Yet I suspended judgment. One of the mediums was out of our sight. Then there was a door locked, padlocked, and otherwise effectually secured, it seemed, but yet a door from the cabinet into the bedroom adjoining. The possibility of a confederate suggested itself. Forty memorable sittings followed. Gradually test conditions were perfected, and every imaginable ground for suspecting deception was removed; and then, instead of failure, all the phenomena came out in greater perfection than before. I select the more remarkable; to copy my notes in full would involve tedious repetition. June 7. Katie allowed Dr. Child to feel her pulse; its beats were distinct, about seventy-two a minute. A lady offered her a gold ring, and asked me to put it on her finger. I did so. The hand, beautifully formed, was like that of a mortal woman, nearly of the same temperature as my own, and slightly moist. At the close of the sitting she advanced into the room, dropped a finger on my head, and touched several other persons. June 9. I gave her a long chain, composed of Violets hair, a present to myself more than forty-five years ago: hoping, as I told Katie, thereby to attract Violet herself in accordance with her promise. I observed that Katie wore the gold ring. But when, at the close of the sitting, examined with a light every nook and corner in the cabinet, neither ring nor chain was to be found. June 10. Katie called me up to the aperture, handed me back the hair chain, and said: Violet wishes you to keep this, in memory of her, until you are called to meet her in her spirit-home. Touching Visitants From a Higher Life, Robert Dale Owen In memory of her: green cognac, rose water, and Italian bergamot. In the bottle, its a beautiful, sweet green scent. The first few hours, it is a well-balanced blend of the bergamot and the cognac, with just the faintest bit of rose to keep it from being foody or boozy. It has a slightly sparkling feel to it, and it is really wonderful... I feel like is almost more like something you could get at a store, except that it isnt artificial-smelling or overpowering. I cant think of how to describe it exactly? Its just gentle and sweet but still unique. As time passed, the rose came out more... and the balance shifted to be more rose-bergamot with the cognac sweetness but no distinct cognac-ness. At the end it was just rose, which turned a little powdery. Overall I really like this one a lot and really recommend it. Its also the type of scent that I think would make a nice gift because I feel like a lot of people would enjoy it.
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This has occurred in my presence on four occasions in darkness. The test conditions under which they took place were quite satisfactory, so far as the judgment was concerned; but ocular demonstration of such a fact is so necessary to disturb our pre-formed opinions as to the naturally possible and impossible, that I will here only mention cases in which the deductions of reason were confirmed by the sense of sight. On one occasion I witnessed a chair, with a lady sitting on it, rise several inches from the ground. On another occasion, to avoid the suspicion of this being in some way performed by herself, the lady knelt on the chair in such a manner that its four feet were visible to us. It then rose about three inches, remained suspended for about ten seconds, and then slowly descended. At another time two children, on separate occasions, rose from the floor with their chairs, in full daylight, under (to me) most satisfactory conditions; for I was kneeling and keeping close watch upon the feet of the chair, and observing that no one might touch them. The most striking cases of levitation which I have witnessed have been with Mr. Home, on three separate occasions have I seen him raised completely from the floor of the room. Once sitting in an easy chair, once kneeling on his chair, and once standing up. On each occasion I had full opportunity of watching the occurrence as it was taking place. There are at least a hundred recorded instances of Mr. Homes rising from the ground, in the presence of as many separate persons, and I have heard from the lips of the three witnesses to the most striking occurrence of this kind the Earl of Dunraven, Lord Lindsay, and Captain C. Wynne their own most minute accounts of what took place. To reject the recorded evidence on this subject is to reject all human testimony whatever; for no fact in sacred or profane history is supported by a stronger array of proofs. The accumulated testimony establishing Mr. Homes levitations is overwhelming. It is greatly to be desired that some person, whose evidence would be accepted as conclusive by the scientific world if indeed there lives a person whose testimony in favour of such phenomena would be taken would seriously and patiently examine the alleged facts. Most of the eyewitnesses to these levitations are now living, and would, doubtless, be willing to give their evidence. But, in a few years, such direct evidence will be difficult, if not impossible, to be obtained. Notes of an Enquiry into the Phenomena called Spiritual during the years 1870-1873, William Crookes Well-worn leather, bay rum, vetiver, cigar smoke, and amber oudh. The tobacco note here is the same as the one in Gaueko, because in the bottle they both read to me as a slightly chemical caramel flavour. That doesn't happen on my skin, thankfully, just a weirdness in vitro (love me a Gaueko). The leather is soft and not at all shiny or "new-smelling", receding into the background as the tobacco and bay rum form the foreground. Amber bridges the two and I can't tell where exactly the vetiver is lurking, but it's not prominent. It could be my skin doing strange things, but on me this was very sweet, and not as masculine as you'd think from the notes. I loved the image of 19th century Mulder types in a gentlemen's club talking about ghosts and such, so I was actually hoping for a bit more dudeliness, but I'd say this is just a spicy, warm unisex scent.
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But on what could an impression be left? An impression of such a nature becomes a material thing and implies a material nexus, however subtle. So far as we know there are only two things there, the air and the ether. The air is a mobile thing and could not carry a permanent impression. But is the ether a mobile thing? It is pictured as a most delicate medium with vibrating currents flowing in it, but it seems to me that a most tenuous jelly with quivers and thrills would be a closer analogy. We could conceive the whole material universe embedded in and interpenetrated by this subtle material, which would not necessarily change its position since it is too fine for wind or any coarser material to influence it. I feel that I am rushing in where even Lodges fear to tread, but if it should prove to be as I suggest then we should have that permanent screen on which shadows are thrown. The block of ether upon the stairs is the same that it always was, and so conveys the impression from the past. the Edge of the Unknown, Arthur Conan Doyle Gentle, almost imperceptible, permeating all things: pale amber vibrating with ambergris and a thread of lavender. This is one of the purest, most beautiful lavenders I've ever smelled. It's up there with Hidden Purpose bath oil! It's the perfect balance between floral and herbal lavender, with just a hint of salty, spicy ambergris enhancing it. The ambergris gets more prominent as it dries down, with more of a 50/50 balance between that soft ocean scent and the lavender. It's amazingly, and yes, a little ethereal. I'm probably going to need more bottles.
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The new discovery of “Table Moving,” by means of an unseen power from the human hand, has only been introduced into England within the last few weeks; but it would be difficult to dingle out any scientific subject which has with such rapidity, taken so extensive a hold of the popular mind. If we travel by railway carriage, steamboat, or omnibus, this is the universal topic of conversation. From the aristocratic saloons of Belgravia to the “Parlours” of Whitechapel – the Green Park to the Cat and Mutton Fields, “table moving” is all the rage. From the Royal Institution, where the secretary pokes his head through a forest of electrical apparatus, to inform the audience that the facts are established, down to the humblest Mechanics’ Institute, all are full of it, and the tables, to quote the words of the old song – “are all a moving, move, move, moving,” – Every evening party must of course have its experiments; accordingly, gentlemen come provided with very elegant chapeaux for the occasion, and many an innocent flirtation occurs consequent on the proper arrangement of the little fingers of some of the fair operators. As “sweet eighteen,” with her blue eyes and golden locks, gracefully links her little finger with Charles’s, in a retired corner, what wonder if the hat should tremble? And Charles, being of course fond of poetry (his very name is a guarantee for that), cannot resist softly breathing into Lucy’s ear, that exquisite line from Waller, on his fair one’s harp – “Touched by that hand – who would not tremble too?” And after a little more conversation of a strictly scientific character, they feel quite satisfied with the success of the experiment. Mamma, who has been watching the progress of the magnetic influence at a distance, “has no patience with such nonsense, and wonders young men and young women cannot find something better to do.” She forgets that there was a magnetic influence at work about twenty years since, and what little trifles served as conductors then. – Table Moving, its causes and phenomena: with directions how to experiment A spirit-touched courtship: sweet orange blossom, white honey, jasmine tea, white sandalwood, green apple, and lily of the valley. In the bottle - Very buoyant, happy greenery. Wet - Warm. I get lots of honey. Sweet green springtime scent. Drydown - I'm smelling honey, but thinking nectar. It actually reminds me of the Nectar hair gloss, and I'm picturing a miniature butterfly garden. Tickles my nose a bit. I'd have to re-sniff my decant, but my mind is drawing parallels between this and Venus Verticordia, which I also liked. This has more going on, though. Less grass, more tea. It gets less heavy as it wears. By the end of the day, this was a spectral memory of spring. Verdict - Just lovely. I can't see anyone being offended by this. Might even be a good work scent, since it doesn't have much throw.
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Just twenty-three years ago yesterday the youngest daughter of John D. Fox, residing in a haunted house in Hydesville, Wayne county N.Y., made the interesting discovery that she could receive communications from the other world through the medium of raps upon tables, doors, chair-legs, wooden walls, and other timbered articles. On the night of March 31, 1848, the family were kept awake by the incessant rat-tat of unseen knuckles upon the floors and walls of the rooms in which they slept. Little Kate, then only ten years old, was in a merry mood. While her elders were shivering and shaking with fear, she took it into her head that with her fingers and toes she could raise as much racket as the ghosts, and began forthwith. At first the mysterious noises were silenced, but in a minute or two the invisible rappers responded to every snap of the child’s fingers. Kate was not slow to improve her opportunity to experiment. “If they will rap when I snap,” she said to her terrified sisters, “why won’t they count as we do at school at the call of the teacher?” “Now,” said she, “count 1, 2, 3, 4, as I do,“ striking her hands together. Four distinct raps were given in response. – Democrat and Chronicle, Rochester NY, April 3, 1871 Tea rose and teak, and black tea with a drop of cream. The teak and black tea are most prominent in this blend. They blend very well creating a base of light, smooth wood. The roses are very subtle, and I would say they have a dried quality, rather than fresh and bold. I might get a hint of cream if I search, but it's not very prominent and probably helps to keep the blend from going too dry. Perfect scent for your Victorian parlor or library!
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At a late period in the evening, after nearly three hours of experiment, Mrs Hayden having risen, and talking at another table while taking refreshment, a child suddenly called out, Will all the spirits who have been here this evening rap together? The words were no sooner uttered than a hailstorm of knitting-needles was heard, crowded into certainly less than two seconds; the big needle sounds of the men, and the little ones of the women and children, being clearly distinguishable, but perfectly disorderly in their arrival. Augustus de Morgan Polished mahogany and black tea with a clatter of vanilla husk and oak wood. In the bottle this is vanilla tea with a little bit of dark polished wood underneath and it stays true on my skin. A deep rich vanilla tea, with the woods coming in for support. Elegant and cozy.
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The desire to inflict a mortal wound on the monster, Superstition, which, from a similar origin, a few centuries ago, inflicted on European society so vast an amount of misery, and by whose influence not hundreds, but thousands, of innocent persons died in tortures, on the rack and at the stake; the desire made me wish to make the experiment, if possible, of bringing a highly sensitive person, by night, to a churchyard. I thought it possible that they might see, over graves where mouldering bodies lay, something like that which Billing had seen. Eucalyptus blossom, lime rind, and white mint coalescing into a green-tinged amber glow. In the bottle this is soft and green. Sweet lime, zingy but not sour and puckering with the softest most gentle eucalyptus I have ever smelled. I normally think of eucalyptus as purely utilitarian for use in aromatherapy bath products, but I never find it pleasant or wearable (in regards to perfume). Beth has completely transformed the possibilities of this note for me. It dries down into a truly eerie green scent. Light mint (not a chilly mint) with the lime, eucalyptus, and amber all softly mingling. I cannot stress enough how gentle this blend is, despite the potential of the notes for being bright or bracing. Very soothing and relaxing, perfect for hectic winter celebrations.
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In the month of December, another fair American medium arrived in England. This lady and her husband, Dr. Roberts, attended a course of lectures I was then delivering in Providence Chapel, upon Mesmerism and Animal Magnetism. They introduced themselves to me, and invited me to visit them. I did so, many times; and to them do I owe much; for, through the information I received from them, I have been enabled to inquire more fully into this soul-stirring, and very important subject, after several Seances at Mrs. Roberts's in Dyer's Buildings, Holborn [MD: original], where I witnessed the moving of the table in various directions. This is what is called “Table-turning,” and which has been attributed to Electricity or Animal Magnetism, by many intelligent and scientific persons… I have seen a loo-table suspended in the air, at least six inches from the ground, without anyone in the body touching it. —Hardinge, 1854 A heavy, tactile scent that thrums with voices from beyond: black polished teakwood, gullies of ectoplasm, and ghostly white musk. Wet: Starts out unpleasant. Strong camphor scent and sharp lemon. Dry down: This ones a real morpher. Camphor goes away almost immediately and the sharpness of the lemon starts to subside. Musk makes its appearance and I swear I smell vanilla. Dry: Okay, this is not what I was expecting but its actually very nice. Sweet lemony tea, vanilla, and musk with a wood smell underneath. I never would have said that it was specifically Teakwood.
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A peculiar manifestation of light produced by physical mediums during ectoplasmic séances: otherworldly snaps of ozone glowing with unearthly light. This is a tough one for me to describe. It's definitely heavy on the ozone, but unlike any of the lab's other ozone scents. It is unisex/masculine with a subtly sweet cologne-y note, aquatic, and something that smells kinda like basil without being bitter. It has a vague tinny quality that would make it suitable for the Steamworks line, but also something that reminds me of smooth, light-coloured wood.
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They are imps of the kitchen, or drawing-room at most; and, if any spirit answers to their sphere, it must be those of unclaimed and disaffected ghosts, who, having no substance within themselves, out of which to compound a spiritual body, wander about church-yards, or haunt the localities where they enacted old crimes, or lived frivolous and disjointed lives. … It may be that the spirits called the Rappers… belong to this class. They are in, what Dante would call Limbo, driven to and fro, perturbed and lonely. These eagerly question the finer spirits, who pass through their realm on their way to higher spheres, of all the gossip that used to interest them on earth. But, inasmuch as the companionship of these people was in no way desirable while they lived in this world, they become less so when separated from the body. They are the gossips of ghost land, poor, frivolous, flimsy wretches, who receive the shred of thought here, and the shadows only of through in the spirit world, for all thought has a body and a substance as it were to itself, so that we say a thought may be grasped in anticipation of the fact hereafter; hence, thought finding no lodgment in these thin poor spirits, floats right through them. They have a restless desire for tangibility, and are perpetually trying to command material objects in a way to make themselves known. —d’Espérance, 1897 Idle poltergeists and truant phantoms loitering in darkened corners and shadowed hallways: black cedar, patchouli, and tea leaf spiked with a tittering cackle of pink peppercorn, mate, and lime rind. Gossips of Ghost Land is kind of a wild olfactory ride. First applied, it's definitely cedar and patchouli, with something that feels minty but might be the lime? The tea leaf, mate, and pink peppercorn add color and movement so it does smell restless, like different spirits moving around in the dark. Dry, this is primarily patchouli and tea leaf on me, with cedar lingering but not dominant. (I don't amp cedar, though, for the record.) The pink peppercorn and lime smooth into an interesting layer that adds subtle spice and freshness. The sillage smells a bit like chocolate, which is so weird and fun. The overall effect is really unusual and perfectly evocative—there's something a bit disturbing about this one, in the best way. I'm definitely hanging on to my bottle because the progression is so fascinating and the patch/tea leaf drydown is really nice.
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