Arthur & George

appropriate. Instead, he looks down at his watch. It is seven o’clock precisely. He is impressed by the punctuality; he somehow expected spiritualists to be more lax in their timekeeping.
    Mr George Craze of the Marylebone Spiritualist Association introduces himself as chairman of the meeting. He begins by reading a statement on behalf of Lady Conan Doyle:
    At every meeting all over the world, I have sat at my beloved husband’s side, and at this great meeting, where people have come with respect and love in their hearts to do him honour, his chair is placed beside me, and I know that in the spiritual presence he will be close to me. Although our earthly eyes cannot see beyond the earth’s vibrations, those with the God-given extra sight called clairvoyance will be able to see the dear form in our midst.
    I want in my children’s, and my own, and my beloved husband’s name, to thank you all from my heart for the love for him which brought you here tonight.
    There is a murmur round the hall; George is unable to tell if it indicates sympathy for the widow, or disappointment that Sir Arthur will not be miraculously appearing before them on stage. Mr Craze confirms that, contrary to the more foolish speculation in the press, there is no question of some physical representation of Sir Arthur manifesting itself as if by magic trick. For those unacquainted with the truths of Spiritualism, and especially for journalists present, he explains that when someone passes over, there is often a period of confusion for the spirit, which may not be able to demonstrate immediately. Sir Arthur, however, was quite prepared for his passing, which he faced with a smiling tranquillity, leaving his family like one going on a long journey yet confident they would all meet again soon. In such conditions it is expected that the spirit will find its place and its powers quicker than most.
    George remembers something Sir Arthur’s son Adrian told the
Daily Herald
. The family, he said, would miss the patriarch’s footsteps and his physical presence, but that was all: ‘Otherwise, he might only have gone to Australia.’ George knows that his champion once visited that distant continent, because a few years ago he borrowed
The Wanderings of a Spiritualist
from the library. In truth, he found its travel information of greater interest than its theological disquisitions. But he remembers that when Sir Arthur and his family – along with the indefatigable Mr Wood – were propagandizing in Australia, they were christened The Pilgrims. Now Sir Arthur is back there, or at least in the spiritualist equivalent, whatever that might be.
    A telegram from Sir Oliver Lodge is read out. ‘Our great-hearted champion will still be continuing his campaign on the Other Side, with added wisdom and knowledge.
Sursum corda
.’ Then Mrs St Clair Stobart reads from Corinthians, and declares that St Paul’s words are fitting to the occasion, since Sir Arthur was often in his life described as the St Paul of Spiritualism. Miss Gladys Ripley sings Liddle’s solo ‘Abide With Me’. The Revd G. Vale Owen speaks of Sir Arthur’s literary work and agrees with the author’s own view that
The White Company
and its sequel
Sir Nigel
were his best writings; indeed, he judges that the description in the latter work of a Christian knight and man of high devotion may serve as the very picture of Sir Arthur himself. The Revd C. Drayton Thomas, who took half the funeral service at Crowborough, praises Sir Arthur’s tireless activity as Spiritualism’s mouthpiece.
    Next they all stand for the movement’s favourite hymn, ‘Lead, Kindly Light’. George notices something different about the singing, which he cannot at first identify. ‘Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see/The distant scene; one step enough for me.’ For a moment he is distracted by the words, which do not seem especially appropriate to Spiritualism: as far as George understands it, the movement’s adherents have their eyes on the distant scene all the time, and have precisely laid down the steps it takes to get there. Then he shifts his attention from matter to manner. The singing
is
different. In church people sing hymns as if reacquainting themselves with lines familiar from months and years ago – lines containing truths so established that they need neither proving, nor thinking about. Here there is directness and freshness in the voices; also a kind of cheerfulness verging on passion