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Spiritualism and Theosophy
by
C
The Secret Doctrine by H P Blavatsky
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Spiritualism and Theosophy
SCIENTIFICALLY EXAMINED AND CAREFULLY DESCRIBED
BY C
THEOSOPHICAL PUBLISHING
HOUSE
adyar, madras,
1928
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Chapter I
SPIRITUALISTIC PHENOMENA
A quarter of a century
ago I wrote a book called The Other Side of Death,
in which I described the condition of the next world, quoting many
illustrative
stories. This book has been out of print for some years, so I have
just issued a
new edition, much enlarged and brought up to date. Some of its
chapters deal
with spiritualism; in them I recount many of my own experiences,
and offer my
readers such explanation of the phenomena as has been suggested to
me by my
forty-five years’ study of Theosophy. I am now publishing these
chapters
separately as a smaller book, hoping that it may be of interest to
my
spiritualistic brethren, and may perhaps even help a little towards
bringing
about a better understanding between the two camps of Theosophists
and
Spiritualists, who have so much in common that they surely ought to
co-operate
and never to waste their time in disputation.
THE PHENOMENA NATURAL
The investigation of the
phenomena which take place at spiritualistic
seances is one of the lines along which information with regard to
man’s
survival after death might have been obtained. Just as many of the
facts so
clearly stated for us by Theosophy might have been deduced from
careful
observation and comparison of the records of apparitions, so also
many of them
might have been inferred from equally careful examination and
comparison of the
accounts given in spiritualistic literature. They were not so
inferred, however,
except by the spiritualists themselves, and not usually clearly
expressed as a
coherent system even by them. But just as, now that we know the
facts from
Theosophical sources, we can see how all the various types of apparitions
fall
into place and are explained by them, so we may also see how
spiritualistic
manifestations can be classified and comprehended by means of the
same
knowledge.
It has always seemed to
me that our spiritualistic friends ought to welcome
the Theosophical system, for much of the difficulty which they find
in
obtaining acceptance for their phenomena arises from the belief
that their
claims are in opposition to science, and not in harmony with any
reasonable
scheme. This idea is an entirely mistaken one, yet spiritualism
does little to
dispel it; it continues (quite rightly) to insist upon its facts,
but does not
usually attempt to harmonize them with science. There is, it seems
to me, rather
a tendency to cry: “How marvellous! how wonderful! how beautiful!”
and to be
lost in admiration and awe, instead of realizing how entirely
natural it all
is, and more beautiful because it is so natural. For all that is
really natural
is beautiful; it is only we, reduced to pessimism by our own
corruption of and
interference with Nature’s methods, who fall back in doubt, and say
hesitatingly that certain things are too good, too beautiful to be
true — not
yet understanding that it is precisely because a thing is good and
beautiful
that it must also be true, and that a far more accurate expression
would be: “It
is too good not to be true”. For God is Truth, and He is good.
How theosophy explains
them
The Theosophical
explanation as to the planes of nature, and the existence
of many varieties of more finely subdivided matter, with their
appropriate
forces playing through them, at once opens the way to a
comprehension of many of
the phenomena of the seance-room. When we further come to
understand the
possession by man of vehicles corresponding to each of these
planes, in each of
which he has new and extended powers, much that was before
difficult becomes
clear as noonday. I have written fully of these capacities in my
little book on
Clairvoyance, so I need not repeat that account here. It will be
sufficient to
remark that when we grasp their nature we see at once how it is
possible for the
dead man, if he is so disposed, to find a passage in a closed book,
to read a
letter inside a locked box, to see and report what is happening at
any distance,
or to read the thoughts of any person, present or absent.
All that the dead man
does along any of these lines can be done with equal
facility by the living man who has developed his latent powers of astral
vision,
and we thus realize that for a man residing in and functioning
through an astral
body, these actions which to us appear phenomenal and marvellous
must bear a
different aspect, for to him they are simply his ordinary everyday
methods of
procedure. The man who has not studied such matters is unused to
these
manifestations, and cannot comprehend how they are produced; he
feels toward
them just as a savage might towards our use of the electric light
or the
telephone. But the intelligent and cultured man is familiar to some
extent with
the mechanism in each of these cases, and so he regards the results
obtained no
longer as magical, but as natural; he looks upon the matter in an
entirely
different light.
A classification
By the light of
Theosophical knowledge of the astral plane and its
possibilities, then, we may proceed to attempt some sort of
classification of
the phenomena of the seance-room. Perhaps we shall find it easiest
to arrange
them according to the powers employed in their production, and in
this way they
fall readily into five divisions:
Those which involve simply
the use of the medium's body — trance-speaking,
automatic writing, drawing or painting, and personation; and sometimes
the
working of the planchette.
Those which are dependent
upon the possession of the ordinary astral sight,
such as the finding of a passage in a closed book, the reading of
writing
enclosed within a locked box, the answering of mental questions, or
the finding
of something or some person that is missing.
Those which involve partial
materialization — usually not carried to the point
of visibility. Under this head would come raps, the tilting or
turning of
tables, the moving and floating of objects, slate-writing, or any
kind of
writing or drawing done directly by the hand of the dead man, and
not through
the agency of the medium; the touches by the hand of the dead, or
the sound of
their voices — “the touch of a vanished hand, and the sound of a
voice that is
still,” for which the poet yearned. Almost all of the minor
activities of the
seance come in under this head, for to it we must assign the
playing of various
musical instruments, the winding up and floating about of the
musical box, and
even the cold wind which is so constant a phenomenon in the earlier
stages of
the sittings. Probably the working of the planchette or the
message-board called
the “ouija” usually comes under this category.
Those miscellaneous
activities which demand a somewhat greater knowledge of
the laws of astral physics, such as the precipitation of writing or
of a
picture, the intentional production of the various kinds of lights,
the
duplication of objects, their apport from a distance or their
production in a
closed room, the passage of matter through matter, or the handling
or the
production of fire.
Visible materialization.
I propose to take up each
of these classes, and endeavour to illustrate and
explain them as far as I can, drawing examples sometimes from
recognized books
upon the subject, and sometimes from my own experience. I spent
much time during
a good many years in patient investigation of spiritualism, and
there is
scarcely a phenomenon of any sort of which I read in the books
which I have not
repeatedly seen under test conditions, so that this is a subject
upon which I
feel myself able to speak with a certain amount of confidence. It
may perhaps be
useful for me, as an introduction to our detailed consideration of
the subject,
to describe how I came to make my first feeble experiments along
this line.
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Chapter II
PERSONAL EXPERIENCES
the silk hat experiment
The first time that, so far
as I can recollect, I ever heard spiritualism
mentioned was in connection with the seances held by Mr. D. D. Home
with the
Emperor Napoleon III. The statements made with reference to those
seemed to me
at that time quite incredible, and when reading the account of them
aloud to my
mother one evening I expressed strong doubts as to whether the
description could
possibly be accurate. The article ended, however, with the remark
that anyone
who felt unable to credit the story might readily convince himself
of its
possibility by bringing together a few of his friends, and
inducing them to sit
quietly round a small table either in darkness or in dim light,
with the palms
of their hands resting lightly upon the surface of the table. It
was stated that
a still easier plan was to place an ordinary silk hat upon the
table brim
upwards, and let two or three people rest their hands lightly upon
the brim. It
was asserted that the hat or table would presently begin to turn,
and in this
way the existence of a force not under the control of any one
present would be
demonstrated.
This sounded fairly simple,
and my mother suggested that, as it was just
growing dusk and the time seemed appropriate, we should make the experiment
forthwith. Accordingly I took a small round table with a central
leg, the normal
vocation of which was to support a flower-pot containing a great
arum lily. I
brought in my own silk hat from the stand in the hall and placed it
on the
table, and we put our hands upon its brim as prescribed. The only
person
present besides my mother and myself was a small boy of twelve,
who, as we
afterwards discovered, was a powerful physical medium; but I knew
nothing about
mediums then. I do not think that any of us expected any result
whatever, and I
know that I was immensely surprised when the hat gave a gentle but
decided
half-turn on the polished surface of the table.
Each of us thought the
other must have moved it unconsciously, but it soon
settled that question for us, for it twirled and gyrated so
vigorously that it
was difficult for us to keep our hands upon it. At my suggestion we
raised our
hands; the hat came up under them, as though attached to them, and
remained
suspended a couple of inches from the table for a few moments
before falling
back upon it. This new development astonished me still more, and I
endeavoured
to obtain the same result again. For a few minutes the hat declined
to respond,
but when at last it did come up as before, it brought the table
with it! Here
was my own familiar silk bat, which I had never before suspected of
any occult
qualities, suspending itself mysteriously in air from the tips of
our fingers,
and, not content with that defiance of the laws of gravity on its
own account,
attaching a table to its crown and lifting that also! I looked down
to the feet
of the table; they were about six inches from the carpet, and no
human foot was
touching them or near them! I passed my own foot underneath, but
there was
certainly nothing there — nothing physically perceptible, at any
rate.
Of course when the hat
first moved it had crossed my mind that the small boy
must somehow be playing a trick upon us; but in the first place he
obviously was
not doing so, and in the second he could not possibly have produced
this result
unobserved. After about two minutes the table dropped away from
the hat, and
almost immediately the latter fell back to its companion, but the
experiment
was repeated several times at intervals of a few minutes. Then the
table began
to rock violently, and threw the hat off — a plain hint to us, if
any of us had
known enough to take it. But none of us had any idea of what to do
next, though
we were keenly interested in these extraordinary movements. I was
not myself
thinking of the phenomenon in the least as a manifestation from the
dead, but
only as the discovery of some strange new force.
I spoke of these curious
occurrences next day to some friends, and found one
among them who had once or twice seen something of the sort, and
was familiar
with the rudiments of spiritualistic procedure. I promptly invited
him to join
us on the following evening, and to assist in our experiments. The
same
phenomena were reproduced, but this time, by our friend’s aid, we
asked
questions and found that the table would tilt intelligently in
response to them.
The communicating entity, however, could not have been a man of
any great
knowledge, for nothing of any importance was said, either then or
afterwards,
and the manifestations were always rather of the nature of
horse-play. Their
most remarkable feature was the enormous physical strength
displayed on several
occasions. Heavy furniture was frequently dashed violently about,
and sometimes
considerably damaged, yet none of us was really hurt. Once, later
on, an
especially sceptical friend had the end of a heavy brass fender
dropped upon his
foot, but I think he distinctly brought it upon himself by his
impolite remarks!
violent demonstrations
The silk hat was ruined at
the second seance, so thereafter we placed our
hands directly upon the table — or at least we commenced by doing
so, for after
a few minutes it was usually waltzing about so wildly that we could
only
occasionally touch it. At the third sitting (if that term be not a
misnomer as
applied to an evening spent mainly in jumping about to avoid the
charges of
various articles of furniture) our little table suffered considerably.
During a
moment of comparative rest, when we were able to keep our hands on
it, we beard
a curious whirring sound underneath it, and some small object fell
to the floor.
Picking it up we found it to be a screw, and wondered where the
“spirits” had
obtained such a thing, and why they had brought it. Twice more the
same
whirring sound was heard, and two more screws were presented to
us, but even
yet we did not realize what was being done.
Suddenly we were startled
by what I can only describe as an exceedingly heavy
kick on the under side of the table, which dashed it upwards
against our hands
and all but threw us over. The effect precisely resembled that of a
vigorous
kick from a heavy boot, and it was repeated three or four times in
rapid
succession until the top of the table was broken away from the leg.
The leg
waltzed off by itself, while the top fell to the floor, but by no
means to lie
quiet there. If a coin be set spinning with the thumb and fingers
upon a smooth
surface it displays a peculiar wobbling rotation just as it is in
the act of
settling down to rest. That was exactly the motion of this table
upon the floor,
and two strong men, kneeling upon it, and exerting all their force
to hold it
down, were unable to do so, but were thrown off apparently with the
utmost ease.
As we were holding it as
nearly down upon the carpet as we could, the same
prodigious kicks came underneath it as before, so that whoever
kicked could
evidently do so through the carpet and the floor of the room
without the
slightest hindrance. It was only after the performance was over,
and we came to
examine our table, that we understood what had happened. The entity
who was
playing with us had apparently wished to separate the top of the
table from the
lower part, and had somehow contrived to extract three of the
screws as though
with a screw-driver; but the fourth had been rusted in and could
not be
removed—hence apparently the kicks which broke it out and
accomplished the
separation.
This exhibition of
prodigious strength at a seance is by no means unusual. In
describing one which took place on Staten Island in the spring of
1870, Mr.
Robert Dale Owen remarks:
“Then — probably
intensified by the darkness — commenced a demonstration
exhibiting more physical force than I had ever before witnessed. I
do not
believe that the strongest man living could, without a handle fixed
to pull by,
have jerked the table with anything like the violence with which it
was now, as
it seemed, driven from side to side. We all felt it to be a power,
a single
stroke from which would have killed any one of us on the spot.”
(The Debatable
Land, p. .)
evidence of unknown power
These phenomena, which thus
came so unexpectedly into my life, would no doubt
have been despised as frivolous by the veteran spiritualist, but to
me they were
exceedingly interesting. They took place in my own house, they were
entirely
unconnected with any professional medium, and they were
incontrovertibly free
from any suspicion of trickery. Consequently here were certain
indubitable
facts, absolutely new to me, and needing investigation. I had no
knowledge then
that there was a considerable literature upon the subject, and I
was not
expecting from this study any proof of the life after death. So
far, I had had
evidence only of the existence of some unseen intelligence, capable
of wielding
enormous power of a kind quite different from any recognized by
science. But it
was precisely that power which interested me, and I was anxious to
discover
whether there was any method by which it could be utilized for the
general
benefit.
We never advanced much
further in these home investigations. My mother feared
the destruction of her furniture, and in deference to her
objections we simply
suspended operations when the forces became too boisterous,
resuming our sitting
only when things quieted down. We had no raps, and no direct
voices; any
communications which came were always given by the tilting or
rising of the
table. The entity concerned seemed willing enough to give tests
along its own
peculiar lines. For example, it occurred to us one evening to ask
whether the
table could rise in the air without our hands resting upon it; it
promptly
responded that it could and would, so we all drew back hastily, and
watched that
table rise till its feet were about a yard from the ground, while
it was
entirely out of the reach of every member of the party. It remained
suspended
for perhaps a minute or rather more, and then sank gently to the
carpet.
lights
Lights of various kinds
frequently appeared, but usually they gave us the
impression not so much of being intentionally shown as of
manifesting
incidentally in the course of other phenomena. They were of three
varieties:
(a) little sparkling lights like those of fireflies, which used to
play over and
about our hands, while they rested on the table; (b) large pale
luminous bodies,
several inches in diameter and often crescent-shaped; (c) a vivid
flash
resembling lightning, which on one occasion crossed the room and
struck and
overthrew a large plant in a pot, leaving upon it distinct marks of
scorching,
much as I suppose lightning might have done. The first and third
varieties gave
us the impression of being electrical, while the second appeared to
be rather
phosphorescent in nature. Nothing occurred that we could definitely
call
materialization, though dark bodies of some sort occasionally
passed between us.
These phenomena usually took place by firelight, though on one
occasion we
obtained a few much modified manifestations in full daylight. The
room appeared
to become charged with some kind of force, as though with
electricity; for at
least an hour after the seance was closed the furniture continued
to creak
mysteriously, and the table on several occasions moved out two or
three feet
from its corner after its flowerpot had been replaced upon it.
The messages were quite a
subordinate feature, and it seemed difficult for the
entity, whatever it may have been, to curb its exuberant spirits
long enough to
go through the tedious process of spelling out a message by tilts.
We made many
attempts to obtain definite information in this way, but met with
no success. It
always gave us the impression of being in a condition of wild
rollicking
enjoyment, too much excited to be patient or coherent. Frequently
the table
would dance vigorously and untiringly, keeping time with any music
that we
played or sang. Its favorite tune appeared to be the well-known
spiritualistic
hymn, “Shall we gather at the river?” and if at any time the power
seemed
deficient or the manifestations lethargic, we had only to sing that
air to rouse
it at once into a condition of the wildest enthusiasm and agility.
Sometimes it
was decidedly mischievous, and when it could be induced to deliver
a message it
was by no means always consistent or truthful. It appeared to be
capable of
annoyance; certainly on one occasion when I denounced one of its
statements as
false, the table leaped straight at me, and would apparently have
struck me
severely in the face, if I had not caught it on its way. Even so,
as I held it
in the air, it made violent efforts to get at me, and had to be
dragged away
forcibly by my friends, just as though it had been an infuriated
animal. But in
a few moments its strength or its passion seemed to give out, and
it was
harmless once more.
Prominent in my memory is
one occasion on which the forces engaged in these
demonstrations actually drove us out of the room. From the
beginning of the
seance the control of the proceedings was taken entirely out of
our hands.
Chairs rushed about like living creatures, a heavy sofa swung out
from its place
by the wall into the middle of the floor, and a tall piano, of the
obsolete type
which used to be called an upright grand, leaned over me at a
dangerous angle.
Trying to save it from a heavy fall, I braced myself against it and
called one
of my friends to assist me. He struck a match and lit a candle,
which he placed
on a table, hoping that the light would check the manifestations.
The table,
however, gave a kind of leap which threw the candle on to the floor
and
extinguished it, and at once pandemonium reigned all round us,
heavy articles of
furniture crashing together.
It was manifest that our
lives were in danger, so, holding back the piano with
all my strength, I shouted to my friend to open the door. After
frenzied efforts
he succeeded in tearing it open, I sprang back from the toppling
piano, and we
all fled ignominiously into the hall. The door banged behind us,
and for a
minute or more the crashes inside continued; then silence ensued.
After five
minutes or so we opened the door and entered with lights, and found
all the
massive furniture piled in a vast heap in the middle of the room —
some of it
badly broken, of course; and yet on the whole there was far less
damage than one
would have expected from the tremendous noise made. After this
demonstration my
mother banished us and our experiments to an outhouse!
professional mediums
Stimulated by these
experiences, I began to make further enquiries, and soon
found that there were books and periodicals devoted to this
subject, and that I
might carry my investigations much further by coming into connection
with
regular mediums. I attended a large number of public seances, and
saw many
interesting things at them, but the most remarkable and
satisfactory results, I
soon found, were obtainable only when the circles were small and
harmonious. I
therefore frequently had private seances, and often invited mediums
to my own
house, where I could be perfectly certain that there existed no
machinery by
means of which trickery could be practiced. In this way I soon
acquired a good
deal of experience, and was able to satisfy myself beyond all doubt
that some at
least of the manifestations were due to the action of those whom we
call the
dead.
I found mediums of all
sorts, good, bad and indifferent. There were some who
were earnest and enthusiastic, and honestly anxious to aid the
enquirer to
understand the phenomena. Others were incredibly ignorant and
illiterate, though
probably honest enough; others again impressed me as sanctimonious,
oleaginous
and untrustworthy. A little experience, however, soon taught me
upon whom I
could depend, and I restricted my experiments accordingly. I
pursued them for a
good many years, and during that time saw many strange things —
many which would
probably be deemed incredible by those unfamiliar with these
studies, if I
should endeavour to describe them. Such of them as aptly illustrate
our various
classes I may perhaps cite as we go on; but to give the whole of
those
experiences would need a much larger book than this.
Let us turn now to our
classification.
-------Cardiff Theosophical Society in Wales-------
206 Newport Road, Cardiff, Wales, UK. CF24-1DL
Chapter III
UTILIZATION OF THE MEDIUM’S BODY
what mediumship is
It seems obvious that the
easiest course for a dead man who wishes to
communicate with the physical plane is to utilize a physical body,
if he is able
to find one which it is within his power to manage. This method
does not involve
the learning of unfamiliar and difficult processes, as
materialization does; he
simply enters into the body provided for him and uses it precisely
as he was in
the habit of using his own. One of the characteristics of a medium
is that his
principles are readily separable, arid therefore he is able and
usually willing
thus to yield up his body for the temporary use of another when
required. Such
resignation of his vehicle may be either partial or total; that is
to say, the
medium may retain his consciousness as usual, and yet permit his
hand to be
employed by another for the purposes of automatic writing; or in
some cases his
vocal organs may also be thus employed by another while he is still
in
possession of his body, and understands fully what is being said.
On the other
hand he may retire from his body just as he would do in deep sleep,
allowing the
dead man to enter and make the fullest possible use of the deserted
tenement. In
this latter case the medium himself is quite unconscious of all
that is said or
done; or at least, if he is able to observe to some extent by means
of his
astral senses, he does not usually retain any recollection of it
when he resumes
control of his physical brain.
trance-speaking
A certain type of
spiritualism — one which has a large number of adherents —
is almost entirely occupied with this phase of mediumship. There
are many groups
to whom spiritualism is a religion, and they attend a Sunday
evening meeting and
listen to a trance-address just as people of other denominations go
to church
and hear a sermon. Nor does the average trance-address in any way
differ from
the average sermon in intellectual ability; its tone is commonly
vaguer, though
somewhat more charitable; but its exhortations follow the same
general lines.
Broadly speaking, there is never anything new in either of them,
and they both
continue to offer us the advice which our copy-book headings used
to give us at
school — “Be good and you will be happy,” “Evil communications
corrupt good
manners,” and so on. But the reason that these maxims are eternally
repeated is
simply that they are eternally true; and if people who pay no
attention to them
when they find them in a copy-book will believe them and act upon
them when they
are spoken by a dead man or rapped out through a table, then it is
emphatically
well that they should have their pabulum in the form in which they
can
assimilate it.
Trance-speaking of the
ordinary type is naturally less convincing as a
phenomenon than many others, for it is undeniable that a slight
acquaintance
with the histrionic art would enable a person of average
intelligence to
simulate the trance-condition and deliver a mediocre sermon. I have
heard some
cases in which the change of voice and manner was so entire as to
be of itself
convincing; I have seen cases where speech in a language unknown to
the medium,
or reference to matters entirely outside his knowledge, assured one
of the
genuineness of the phenomenon. But on the other hand I have heard
many a trance
address in which all the vulgarities, the solecisms in grammar and
the hideous
mispronunciations of an illiterate medium were so closely
reproduced that it was
difficult indeed to believe that the man was not shamming. Such
cases as this
last have no evidential value, yet even in them I have learnt that
it is well to
be charitable, and to allow the medium as far as possible the
benefit of the
doubt; for I know, first, that a medium attracts round him dead men
of his own
type, not differing much from his level of advancement or culture;
and
secondly, that any communication which comes through a medium is
inevitably
coloured to a large extent by that medium’s personality, and might
easily be
expressed in his style and by means of such language as he would
normally use.
automatic writing
The same remarks apply in
the case of automatic writing. Sometimes the dead
man controls the medium’s organism sufficiently to write clearly,
characteristically, unmistakably; but more often the handwriting is
a compromise
between his own and that of the medium, and frequently it
degenerates into an
almost illegible scrawl. Here again I have seen cases which carried
their own
proof on the face of them, either by the language in which they
were written or
by internal evidence. Sometimes also curious tricks are attempted
which make any
theory of fraud exceedingly improbable. For example, I have seen a
whole page of
writing dashed off in a few minutes, but written backward, so that
one had to
hold it before a mirror in order to be able to read it. In another
case, before
a sitting with Mrs. Jencken (better known by her maiden-name of
Kate Fox, as the
little girl who first discovered in 1847 that raps would answer
questions
intelligently, and so founded modern spiritualism), her little
baby-in-arms,
perhaps twelve months old, took a pencil in its tiny hand and wrote
— wrote
firmly and rapidly a message purporting to come from a dead man.
What
intelligence guided that baby hand I am not prepared to say, but it
certainly
could not have been that of its legitimate owner, and it was
equally certainly
not that of its mother, for she held the child away from her while
it wrote.
the private archangel
Frequently people who are
not mediums in any other sense of the word appear to
be open to influence along this line. A large number of persons are
in the habit
of receiving private communications written through their own
hands; and the
vast majority of them attach quite undue importance to them. Again
and again I
have been assured by worthy ladies that the whole Theosophical
teaching
contained nothing new for them, since it had all been previously
revealed to
them by their own special private teacher, who was of course a
person of
entirely superhuman glory, knowledge and power — an Archangel at
least! When I
come to investigate I usually find the Archangel to be some worthy
departed
gentleman who has either been taught, or has discovered for
himself, some
portion of the facts with regard to astral life and evolution, and
is deeply
impressed with the idea that if he can only make this known to the
world at
large it will necessarily effect a radical change and reform in the
entire life
of humanity. So he seeks and finds some impressible lady, and urges
upon her the
conviction that she is a chosen vessel for the regeneration of
mankind, that she
has a mighty work to do to which her life must be devoted, that
future ages will
bless her name, and so on.
In all this the worthy
gentleman is usually quite serious; he has now realized
a few of the elementary facts of life, and he cannot but feel what
a difference
it would have made in his conduct and his attitude if he had
realized them while
still on the physical plane. He rightly concludes that if he could
induce the
whole world really to believe this, a great change would ensue; but
he forgets
that practically all that he has to say has been taught in the
world for
thousands of years, and that while he was in earth-life he paid no
more
attention to it than others are now likely to pay to his
lucubrations. It is the
old story over again: “If they hear not Moses and the prophets,
neither will
they be persuaded though one rose from the dead”.
Of course a little common
sense and a little acquaintance with the literature
of this subject would save these worthy ladies from their delusion
of a mission
from on high; but self-conceit is subtle and deeply-rooted, and the
idea of
being specially chosen out of all the world for a divine
inspiration is, I
suppose, pleasurable to a certain type of people. Usually the
communications are
infinitely far from “containing all the Theosophical teaching”;
they contain
perhaps a few fragments of it, or more often a few nebulous
generalizations
tending somewhat in the Theosophical direction.
Occasionally also the
instructor is a living man in the astral body — usually
an Oriental; and in that case it is perfectly natural that his
information
should have a Theosophical flavour. It must be recollected that
Theosophy is in
no sense new, but is the oldest teaching in the world, and that the
broad
outlines of its system are perfectly well known everywhere outside
of the limits
of the extraordinary cloud of ignorance on philosophical subjects
which
Christianity appears to bring in its train. It is therefore small
wonder that
any glimpse of a wider and more sensible theory should seem to have
something of
Theosophy about it; but naturally it will rarely be found to have
either the
precision or the fullness of the scheme as given to us by the
Masters of Wisdom
through Their pupil Madame Blavatsky.
It appears to make the
process of writing through the hand of the medium even
easier for the dead man when that hand is rested upon the little
board called
planchette. This form of manifestation, however, does not always
belong to our
present category. Sometimes it seems that the hand of the medium
moves the
planchette, though it is not by his intelligence that it is
directed, for it
often writes in languages or about matters of which he is ignorant.
But on other
occasions it appears to move rather under his hand than with it,
suggesting
that it is charged with the vital force from his hand, just as the
hat or the
table was in the experiments previously described. In that case
the movement of
the board would probably be directed by another partially
materialized hand, and
so the phenomenon would belong to our third class.
drawing or painting
The phenomenon of automatic
drawing or painting is of exactly the same nature
as that of writing, though it is not nearly so common, because the
art of
drawing is much less widely diffused than is that of writing. Still
it sometimes
happens that a dead man has a talent for rapid drawing, and can
quickly produce
a pretty little landscape or a passable portrait through the hand
of a
readily-impressible medium. There are certain mediums who make a
speciality of
this obtaining of portraits of the dead, and they apparently find
that it pays
them exceedingly well. I have myself seen passable work produced in
this way,
though not equal to that done directly by the hand of the dead man,
or by
precipitation. There are also cases in which such portraits are
drawn by a
living person who is himself clairvoyant; but that is obviously not
an example
of mediumship at all, and so does not come into our present
category.
It must be remembered that
for the production of a portrait of a dead person
by any of these methods it is not in the least necessary that he
should be
present, though of course he may be. But when surviving friends
come to a seance
expecting and earnestly hoping for a portrait of some dead man,
their thought of
him, so strongly tinged with desire, makes an effective image of him
in astral
matter, and this is naturally clearly visible to any other dead
man, so that the
portrait can be drawn quite easily from it. It is, however, also
true that this
same strong thought about the dead man is certain to attract his
attention, and
he is therefore likely to come and see what is being done. So it is
always
possible that he may be present, but the portrait is not proof of
it.
personation
I am employing this term in
a technical sense which is well known to those who
have studied these phenomena. I am aware that it has also been
employed to
describe those cases in which a dishonest medium has presented
himself before
his audience as a “spirit-form”, but I am dealing with occurrences
of a type
quite different from that. All who have seen good examples of
trance-speaking
will have noticed how the entire expression of the medium’s face
changes, and
how he adopts all kinds of little tricks of manner and speech,
which are really
those of the man who is speaking through his organism.
There are instances in
which this process of change and adaptation goes much
further than this — in which a distinct temporary alteration
actually takes
place in the features of the medium. Sometimes this change is only
apparent and
not real, the fact being that the earnest effort of the ensouling
personality to
express himself through the medium acts mesmerically upon his
friend, and
deludes him into thinking that he really sees the features of the
dead man
before him. When that is so the phenomenon is of course purely
subjective, and a
photograph taken of the medium at that moment would show his face
just as it
always is.
Sometimes, however, the
change is real and can be shown to be so by means of
the camera. When this is so, there are still two methods by which
the effect may
be produced. I have seen at least one case of apparent change of
feature in
which what really took place may best be described as the partial
materialization of a mask; that is to say, such parts of the
medium’s face as
corresponded fairly well with that to be represented were left
untouched,
whereas other parts which were entirely unsuitable were covered
with a thin mask
of materialized matter which made them up into an almost perfect
imitation,
though slightly larger than the original. But I have also seen
other cases in
which the face to be represented was much smaller than that of the
medium, and
the exact imitation secured undoubtedly involved an alteration in
the form of
the medium’s features. This will naturally seem an absolute
impossibility to one
who has not made a special study of these things, for the majority
of us little
recognize the extreme fluidity and impermanence of the physical
body, and have
no conception how readily it may be modified under certain
conditions.
impressibility of the
physical body
There is plenty of evidence
to show this, though the circumstances which call
into operation forces capable of producing such a result are
fortunately rare.
In Isis Unveiled, vol. i, p. 368, Madame Blavatsky gives us a
series of ghastly
examples of the way in which the thought or feeling of a mother can
change the
physical body of her unborn child. Cornelius Gemma tells of a child
that was
born with his forehead wounded and running with blood, the result
of his
father's threats towards his mother with a drawn sword which he
directed towards
her forehead. In Van Helmont's De Injectis Materialibus it is
reported that the
wife of a tailor at Mechlin saw a soldier’s hand cut off in a
quarrel, which so
impressed her that her child was born with only one hand, the other
arm
bleeding. The wife of a merchant of Antwerp, seeing a soldier who had
just lost
his arm, brought forth a daughter with one arm struck off and
bleeding. Another
woman witnessed the beheading of thirteen men by order of the Duc
d’Alva. In her
case also the child, quite perfect in other respects, was born
without a head
and with bleeding neck.
The whole question of the
appearance of stigmata on the human body, which
seems so thoroughly well authenticated, is only another instance of
the
influence of mind upon physical matter; for just as the mind of the
mother acts
upon the foetus, so do the minds of various saints, or of women
like Catherine
Emmerich, act upon their own organism. On p. 384 of The Night Side
of Nature we
find another rather horrible example of the action of violent
emotion upon the
physical body.
A letter from Moscow,
addressed to Dr. Kerner in consequence of reading the
account of the Nun of Dulmen, relates a still more extraordinary
case. At the
time of the French invasion, a Cossack having pursued a Frenchman
into a cul de
sac, an alley without an outlet, there ensued a terrible conflict
between them,
in which the latter was severely wounded. A person who had taken
refuge in this
close, and could not get away, was so dreadfully frightened that
when he reached
home there broke out on his body the very same wounds that the
Cossack had
inflicted on his enemy.
We shall have to refer to
this question when dealing with materializations;
but in the meantime, and as far as personation is concerned, I can
myself
testify that it is possible for the physical features of a medium
to be
completely changed for a time into the exact resemblance of those
of the dead
man who is speaking through him. This phenomenon is not common, so
far as I have
seen or heard, and we may presume that the reason for its rarity is
that
ordinary materialization would probably be easier to produce. The
personation,
however, took place in full daylight on each occasion when I
witnessed it;
whereas materialization is usually performed by artificial light,
and there must
not be too much even of that, for reasons which will be explained
when we come
to deal with that side of the question.
using force thbough the
medium
Speaking, writing and
drawing are by no means the only actions performed
through the body of the medium. Sometimes it is used for more
extensive and even
violent activities. M. Flammarion records a striking case of the
kind (After
Death, p. 100) in which the “spirit” took possession of the medium
in order to
attempt to revenge himself. The case first appeared in Luce e Ombra
(Rome,
1920), and the Revue Spirite (1921, p. 214), and was witnessed by
M. Bozzano,
the writer. Though the incident occurred in 1904, M. Bozzano felt
that he could
not publish an account of it before the death of the chief person
concerned. He
writes:
Today I can speak of it in
the general interest of metaphysical research,
omitting, however, the name of the person chiefly concerned.
Seance held on April 5, . —
The following were present: Dr. Guiseppe
Venzano, Ernesto Bozzano, the Cavaliere Carlo Perefcti, Signore X—,
Signora
Guidetta Peretti, and the medium L. P. The seance was begun at ten
o’clock in
the evening.
From the beginning we noted
that the medium was troubled, for some unknown
reason. The spirit-guide Luigi, the medium's father, did not
manifest himself,
and L. P. gazed with terror toward the left corner of the room.
Shortly
afterward he freed himself from his “spirit-controls”, rose to his
feet, and
began a singularly realistic and impressive struggle against some
invisible
enemy. Soon he uttered cries of terror, drew back, threw himself to
the floor,
gazed toward the corner as though terrified, then fled to the other
corner of
the room, shouting: “Back! Go away. No, I don’t want to. Help me!
Save me!” Not
knowing what to do, the witnesses of these scenes concentrated
their thoughts
with intensity upon Luigi, the spirit-guide, and called upon him to
aid. The
expedient proved effective, for little by little the medium grew
calmer, gazed
with less anxiety toward the corner of the apartment; then his eyes
took on the
expression of someone who looks at a distant spectacle, then a
spectacle still
more distant. At last he gave vent to a long sigh of relief and
murmured: “He’s
gone! What a bestial face!”
Soon afterwards, the
spirit-guide Luigi manifested himself. Expressing himself
through the medium, he told us that in the room in which the seance
was being
held there was a spirit of the basest nature, against which it was
impossible
for him to struggle; that the intruder bore an implacable hatred
for one of the
persons of the group. Then the medium exclaimed in a frightened
voice: “There he
is again! I can't defend you any longer. Stop the ...”
It is certain that Luigi
wished to say, “stop the seance”, but it was already
too late. The evil spirit had taken possession of our medium. He
shouted; his
eyes shot glances of fury; his hands, lifted as though to seize
something, moved
like the claws of a wild beast, eager to clutch his prey. And the
prey was
Signore X—, at whom the medium’s furious looks were cast. A
rattling and a sort
of concentrated roaring issued from our medium’s foam-covered lips,
and suddenly
these words burst from him: “I’ve found you again at last, you
coward! I was a
Royal Marine. Don't you remember the quarrel in Oporto? You killed
me there. But
today I’ll have my revenge and strangle you.”
These distracted words were
uttered as the hands of the medium, L. P., seized
the victim’s throat, and tightened on it like steel pincers. It was
a fearful
sight. The whole of Signore X—’s tongue hung from his wide-open
mouth, his eyes
bulged. We had gone to the unfortunate man’s assistance. Uniting
our efforts
with all the energy which this desperate situation lent us, we
succeeded, after
a terrible hand-to-hand struggle, in freeing him from the desperate
grip. At
once we pulled him away, and thrust him outside, locking the door.
We barred the
medium’s access to the door; exasperated, he tried to break through
this barrier
and run after his enemy. He roared like a tiger. It took all four
of us to hold
him. At last, he suffered a total collapse and sank down upon the
floor.
On the following day we
prepared to clear up this affair — to seek information
which might enable us to confirm what “the Oporto spirit” had said.
We were, in
fact, already quite certain of the truth of the accusation, for it
was
noteworthy that Signore X— had not protested in the least while the
serious
charge of homicide had been hurled at him.
The words uttered by the
furious spirit served me as a means for arriving at
the truth. He had said, “I was a Royal Marine”. And I knew vaguely
that Signore
X— had, himself, in his youth, been an officer of marines; that he
had witnessed
the battle of Lissa, and that after resigning his commission he had
devoted
himself to commercial enterprises. With these facts as a basis, I
proceeded to
ask a retired vice-admiral for other details; he, too, had fought
at Lissa. As
for Dr. Venzano, he questioned a relative of Signore X—, with whom
the latter
had broken off all relations years before. Between us we gathered
separate bits
of information which tallied amazingly, and which, brought
together, led us to
these conclusions:
Signore X— had indeed
served with the Royal Marines. One day, being upon a
battle-ship on a training cruise, he had landed for some hours at
Oporto,
Portugal. During his stay, while he was walking in the city, he
heard a noise of
drunken, furious voices coming from an inn. He perceived that the
language was
Italian, and, realizing that it was a quarrel between men of his
vessel, he went
into the room, recognized his men, and commanded them to return to
their ship.
One of the drinkers, more intoxicated than the others, answered him
back, and
even went so far as to threaten his superior officer. Angered by
his attitude,
the officer drew his sword and plunged it into the insolent
fellow’s breast; the
latter died soon afterward. As a result of this adventure, the
officer was
court-martialled, was sentenced to six months’ imprisonment, and,
on the
expiration of his term, was asked to resign his commission.
Those are the facts; it
follows from them that the disturbing spirit had not
lied. He had exactly stated his rank as a Royal Italian Marine. He
had
remembered that Signore X— had killed him. He had, moreover — and
this was a
particularly remarkable statement—indicated the place where he had
died, the
setting for the drama, Oporto.
A painstaking enquiry
confirmed the authenticity of all this. By what
hypothesis could one explain occurrences so strikingly in
agreement — those
which were revealed to us at the seance of April 5, 1904, and those
which had
taken place in Portugal many years before?
-------Cardiff Theosophical Society in Wales-------
206 Newport Road, Cardiff, Wales, UK. CF24-1DL
Chapter IV
CLAIRVOYANCE IN SPIRITUALISM
clairvoyant faculties
Many of the phenomena
commonly displayed at a spiritualistic gathering are
simply the manifestation of the ordinary powers and faculties
natural to the
astral plane, such as are possessed by every dead man. I have
already explained
in my little work on Clairvoyance what these powers are, and any
one who will
take the trouble to read that will see how clearly the possession
of such senses
accounts for the faculty so often exhibited by the dead of reading
a closed book
or a sealed letter, or describing the contents of a locked box. I
have had
repeated evidence through many different mediums of the possession
of this
power; sometimes the knowledge obtained by its means was given out
through the
medium’s body in trance-speaking, and at other times it was
expressed directly
by the dead man, either in his own voice or by slate-writing.
These astral faculties
sometimes include a certain amount of prevision, though
this is possessed in varying degrees; and they also frequently give
the power of
psychometry and of looking back to some extent into events of the
past. The way
in which this is sometimes done is shown in the following story,
given to us by
Dr. Lee, in his Glimpses of the Supernatural, vol. ii, p. .
the missing papers
A commercial firm at
Bolton, in Lancashire, had found that a considerable sum
of money which had been sent to their bank by a confidential clerk
had not been
placed to their credit. The clerk remembered the fact of taking the
money,
though not the particulars, but at the bank nothing was known of
it. The clerk,
feeling that he was liable to suspicion in the matter, and anxious
to elucidate
it, sought the help of a spirit-medium. The medium promised to do
her best.
Having heard the story, she presently passed into a kind of trance.
Shortly
after, she said: “I see you go to the bank — I see you go to such
and such a
part of the bank — I see you hand some papers to a clerk — I see
him put them in
such and such a place under some other papers — and I see them
there now.”
The clerk went to the bank,
directed the cashier where to look for the money,
and it was found; the cashier afterwards remembering that in the
hurry of
business he had there deposited it. A relation of mine saw this
story in a
newspaper at the time, and wrote to the firm in question, the name
of which was
given, asking whether the facts were as stated. He was told in
reply that they
were. The gentleman who was applied to, having corrected one or two
unimportant
details in the above narration, wrote on November 9, 1847: “Your
account is
correct. I have the answer of the firm to my enquiry at home now.”
The description given does
not make it absolutely clear whether this was a
case of clairvoyance on the part of the medium, or of the use of
ordinary
faculty by a dead man; but since the medium passed into a
trance-condition the
latter supposition seems the more probable. The dead man could
easily gather
from the clerk’s mind the earlier part of his story, and thus put
himself en
rapport with the scene; and then by following it to its close he
was able to
supply the information required. Here is the authenticated record
of another
good example of such a case, in which the power of thought-reading
is much more
prominently exhibited, since all the questions were mental. It is
extracted
from the Report on Spiritualism, published by Longman, London, in
1871, and is
to be found in the Examination of the Master of Lindsay, p. .
A lost will
A friend of mine was very
anxious to find the will of his grandmother, who had
been dead forty years, but could not even find the certificate of
her death. I
went with him to the Marshalls’, and we had a seance; we sat at a
table, and
soon the raps came; my friend then asked his questions mentally; he
went over
the alphabet himself, or sometimes I did so, not knowing the
question. We were
told (that) the will had been drawn by a man named William Walter,
who lived at
Whitechapel; the name of the street and the number of the house
were given. We
went to Whitechapel, found the man, and subsequently, through his
aid, obtained
a copy of the draft; he was quite unknown to us, and had not always
lived in
that locality, for he had once seen better days. The medium could
not possibly
have known anything about the matter, and even if she had, her
knowledge would
have been of no avail, as all the questions were mental.
As I have already said, the
faculty of clairvoyance is often possessed by
living persons, as well as by the dead. Even in this case, in which
the
information was communicated by means of raps, it is still within
the bounds of
possibility that it may have been acquired by the living and
transmitted to the
physical-plane consciousness by this external means. There is an
ever-increasing
volume of testimony to the fact of this clairvoyance; Dr. Geley has
done
splendid service by giving much that is new and valuable in his
recent work
Clairvoyance and Materialization. In his account of the
clairvoyance of Mr.
Ossowiecki, which includes many tests of his ability to read
sentences enclosed
in sealed opaque envelopes, he tells us that this seer has from
time to time
been able to discover articles which have been lost or stolen. In
contact with
the loser he was able after brief concentration to say where the
object was
lost, and sometimes also where it could be found.
the lost brooch
He gives the following
account of one such case which was sent to him by Mme
Aline de Glass, wife of a Judge of the Supreme Court of Poland. The
account is
also attested by her brother, M. Arthur de Bondy:
warsaw, wspolna, 7
July 22, 1922
Sir,
I have the honour to inform
you of an actual miracle that Mr. Ossowiecki has
worked here. I lost my brooch on Monday morning, June 6th. In the
afternoon of
the same day I visited the wife of General Krieger, Mr.
Ossowiecki’s mother,
with my brother, Mr. de Bondy, an engineer, who witnessed the
event.
Mr. Ossowiecki came in, my brother introduced me to his friend, and
I said that
I was delighted to make acquaintance with one so gifted with occult
powers. All
Warsaw is talking of him. He told us many interesting things, and
warmed up in
his talk as I listened. Then in a moment of silence I told him:
“I have lost my brooch today. Could you tell me anything about it?
But if you
are tired or it is troublesome, do not put yourself out.”
“On the contrary, madame, I will tell you. The brooch is at your
house in a box;
it is a metal brooch, round, with a stone in the middle. You wore
it three days
ago, and you value it.”
“No,” I said, “not that one.” (He had given a good description of a
brooch kept
in the same box with that which I had lost.) Then he said:
“I am sorry not to have guessed right; I feel tired ... ”
“Let us say no more about it.”
“Oh no, madame, I will try to concentrate. I should like to have
some material
thing that concerns the brooch ...”
“Sir, the brooch was fastened here, on this dress.”
He placed his fingers on the place indicated, and after a few
seconds said:
“Yes, I see it well. It is oval, of gold, very light, an antique
which is dear
to you as a family souvenir; I could draw it, so clearly do I see
it. It has
ears, as it were, and it is two parts interpenetrating, like
fingers clasped
together . . .”
“What you say, sir, is most extraordinary. It could not be better
described.
Miraculous.”
He went on: “You lost it a long way from here.” (This was actually
about two and
a half miles.) “Yes, in
Mokotowska Street at the Koszykowa corner.”
“Yes,” I said, “I went there today.”
“Then,” he said, “a poorly dressed man, with black moustache, stoops
down and
picks it up. It will be very difficult to get it back. Try an
advertisement in
the papers.”
I was dazzled by the minute description, which left me no doubt
that he could
see the ornament. I thanked him warmly for the rare pleasure of
meeting a real
clairvoyant, and went home.
On the following evening my brother came to see me and exclaimed:
“What a miracle! Your brooch has been found. Mr. Ossowiecki
telephones to me
that you have only to go tomorrow at about 5 o’clock to Mme. Jacyna
(Mr.
Ossowiecki’s sister), and he will give it to you.”
The next day, June 7th, I went with my brother to the lady’s house,
where there
was company. I asked to see Mr. Ossowiecki, and asked him: “Have
you my brooch?”
I was much upset.
“Compose yourself, madame; we shall see.” And he handed me my
brooch. It was a
real miracle. I turned pale and could not speak for a few minutes.
He told me the story very simply: “The day after our meeting I went
to the bank
in the morning. In the vestibule I saw a man I remembered to have
met somewhere
or other, and it struck me that this was the man whom I had seen
mentally to
have picked up your brooch. I took his hand gently, and said: ‘Sir, yesterday
you found a brooch at the corner of Mokotowska and Koszykowa
Streets . . .’
‘Yes,’ he said, very much astonished. ‘Where is it?’ ‘At home. But
how do you
know?’ I described the brooch and told him all that had taken
place. He turned
pale and was much upset, like you, madame. He brought me the
brooch, saying that
he had intended to advertise its finding. That is the whole story.”
I was much moved. I thanked Mr. Ossowiecki warmly, not so much for
the recovery
of the brooch as for meeting such a diviner, and having a small
part in this
miracle. Now this fine old brooch is worn by me constantly and
considered as a
talisman. The incident has gone all over Poland, and Mr. Ossowiecki
has become
all the more celebrated. He is besieged by people who come to
consult him on
lost property, on men missing during the war, etc. And this modest
and
extraordinary man devotes much time and trouble to them with good
grace and
complete disinterestedness. He is a true diviner, who does much
good by his
gift without any personal reward. I ask pardon for so long an
account, which I
wished to make as exact as possible,
I am, Yours,
aline de glass,
née de Bondy
As an example of the test conditions under which Mr. Ossowiecki has
done many
readings, I may mention the case of the letter which was written
for the purpose
by Mme. Sarah Bernhardt, which we reproduce below from Clairvoyance
and
Materialization (p. 55).
.
.
This letter was delivered to Dr. Geley, who handed it unopened to
the
clairvoyant. His reading of this was not perfect, but nevertheless
striking and
evidential. Dr. Geley says:
“His description of the letter was, however, very precise: La vie,
la vie, la
vie, . . . (three times). There are four or five lines, and below
them Sarah
Bernhardt’s signature, sloping upwards.” That is correct, but he
might have seen
her signature in some magazine article. He continued: “La vie
semble humble.” He
repeated ‘humble’ two or three times. “There is reference to
humanity, but the
word ‘humanity’ is not written. There is an idea conjoining life
and humanity.
Parcequ’il у а
bеаисоир
de haine. Non, il n’y a pas ‘haine’; il у a seulement
seulement . . . It is a very difficult word of eight letters! There
is an
exclamation mark.”
Then before opening the letter, which I had previously examined by
reflected,
direct and transmitted light and found absolutely opaque, I wrote
down the
following, which may be taken as Ossowiecki's final answer: “La vie
semble
humble parcequ’il у а
bеаисоир
de haine, (pas haine, mais un mot qui n’est pas
compris et qui est de huit lettres); signature Sarah Bernhardt.”
The word
éphémère was not known to Ossowiecki, as he told us after the
letter had been
opened. We asked several Poles who spoke French well if they knew
this word:
they did not.
The fact that Mr. Ossowiecki does see the actual form in some
manner sometimes
is confirmed by his vision on occasion of drawings enclosed along
with the
letters. Judging by the third experiment of September 21st, 1921,
at Prince
Lubomirski’s (p. 39), when the test letter contained four written
items, and
also the drawing of a fish, the picture seemed to impress him more
than the
written portion of the test, and he not only spoke about it, but
said that he
would draw it, which he did, though he reversed the picture,
putting the head on
the left whereas in the original it was on the right.
clairvoyant “readings”
This power of clairvoyance is also frequently displayed in a minor
way at the
weekly meetings of which I have spoken. After the trance address is
over, the
medium usually expresses her readiness to give descriptions, or
“readings”, as
they are often called, of the surroundings of various members of
the audience.
Where the circle is a small one, something is said to each of its
members in
turn; if there be a large number gathered together, individuals are
selected and
called up for special attention.
I have heard striking fragments of private family history brought
out in this
way — cases which bore every mark of genuineness; but in the
majority of such
meetings as I have attended the descriptions were exceedingly
vague, and had a
rather suspicious adaptability about them. The conversation usually
ran somewhat
along these lines:
Medium (supposed to be entranced, but speaking with exactly her
normal contempt
for aspirates and grammatical rules). “There's an old gent with
white ‘air
a-standin’ be’ind that lady in the corner.”
Enthusiastic and Credulous Sitter.
“Lor! that must be my father!”
Medium. “Yes; he smiles, he
nods his ‘ed, he’s so pleased that you know him. I
can see his white beard regularly shaking, he's so glad.”
Sitter. “Ain't it wonderful! But father didn’t have no beard before
he passed
over; p’raps he’s grown one since, or p’raps it’s my uncle Jim; he
used to have
a beard.”
Medium. “Ah! yes, that’s who it is; he nods his ‘ed again, and
smiles; he wants
to tell you ‘ow ‘appy he is.”
Sitter. “Well, now! just to
think of poor uncle Jim coming like this! Why, it’s
more than thirty years ago he was drowned at sea, when I was quite
a girl;
‘an‘some young chap he was, too! not more than five-and-twenty, and
to be
drowned like that!”
Medium. “Um! yes—yes—ah! I
see him more clearly now — yes, you're right. It’s
not a white beard — it’s the white undershirt what sailors wears —
that’s what
it is!”
Chorus. “How lovely! how
wonderful! Ain’t it beautiful to think they can come
back like this!”
I have heard just about that sort of conversation a score of times;
and it is
naturally not calculated to produce a robust faith in that
particular medium.
Yet perhaps through the same illiterate woman there would come on
another
occasion some message about a matter of which she could by no
possibility have
known anything — a message which she could never have evolved from
her sordid
consciousness by any amount of clumsy guess-work.
A private test
I remember on one such occasion applying a little private test of
my own to a
medium in a poor London suburb. She was a coarse-looking woman,
whom I had never
seen before, but she seemed earnest enough, though far from
cultured. She went
on from one member of the circle to another, monotonously
describing behind each
of them spirits with flowing robes and smiling faces; she varied
the story a
little in my own case by giving me “a dark-looking foreign
gentleman, with
something white round his head”, which may possibly have been true
enough, or
may have been merely a coincidence.
It occurred to me to try whether she could see a thought-form, so
as a change
from all these reverend white-haired spirits with flowing robes, I
set myself to
project as strong a mental image as I could construct of two chubby
boys in Eton
jackets, standing behind the chair of the member of the circle who
was next in
order for examination. Sure enough, when that person’s turn came,
the medium (or
the dead man speaking through her, if there was one) described my
imaginary boys
with tolerable accuracy, and represented them as sons of the lady
behind whom
they stood. The latter denied this, explaining that her sons were
grown men, and
the medium then suggested grandchildren, which was also repudiated,
so the
mystery remained unsolved. But from the incident I deduced two
conclusions:
First, that either the medium was genuinely clairvoyant, or there
really was a
dead person speaking through her; and secondly, that whoever was
concerned had
not yet sufficient discernment to distinguish a thought-form
materialized on the
astral plane from a living astral body.
-------Cardiff Theosophical Society in Wales-------
206 Newport Road, Cardiff, Wales, UK. CF24-1DL
.
Chapter V
.
SOME RECENT TEST CASES
test conditions
The recent researches of many learned doctors, and other
investigators
associated with the Societies for Psychical Research in different
countries,
offer us increasing confirmation of the facts announced by the
earlier
experimenters. The attitude of many of these distinguished
explorers into the
domain of the occult inclines at the beginning towards scepticism
— a fact
which renders their evidence all the more valuable, though it makes
the
phenomena more difficult to obtain. It constitutes a positive
mental influence
acting against the manifestation of unusual psychic powers — powers
which it is
difficult enough to use, even under the most favourable conditions.
It is only
fair to add, however, that such scepticism is rarely a prejudice,
but simply the
scientific attitude which declines to admit the existence of any
facts which
have not been carefully observed, or the truth of any deductions
which have not
been studiously and impartially considered.
The attitude and method adopted by Dr. Gustave Geley, and described
in his
invaluable volume Clairvoyance and Materialisation, is becoming
more and more
popular among experimenters. He says that the best results for
scientific
purposes are not to be obtained under conditions which cast
suspicion upon the
medium, and that the end to be sought by observers is not to
protect themselves
with absolute certainty at all times against any possible or
conceivable fraud,
but to obtain phenomena so powerful and complex that they carry
their own proof
and undeniable witness under the conditions demanded by the
control.
I may add that my own experience, extending over many years, fully
confirms what
Dr. Geley has written. I have always found it best to make friends
with both the
medium and the spirit-guide and to discuss the manifestations
frankly with them.
Dr. Geley continues:
If experimenters waste time on poor or elementary phenomena, they
will find the
greatest difficulty in getting a control that will satisfy them at
all points.
If they are wise enough to consider elementary phenomena, and such
minor frauds
as they may suspect, both negligible; if they allow phenomena to
develop without
checking them at the outset by untimely demands, they will
certainly obtain
facts so various and important, also (sometimes) of such beauty,
that their
conviction will be complete, unshakable, and conclusive (p. 25).
MOTHER MARIUS AND THE CONVICT
In the comparatively recent general literature of spiritualism and
psychical
research there are many cases which satisfy these conditions. There
are examples
in which the accuracy of information communicated by these methods,
and
previously entirely unknown to those who receive it, almost certainly
announces
the actual presence of the entity who is claiming to communicate. I
will select
one typical case from M. Flammarion’s book After Death (p. 21),
relating to the
death of a charwoman of Nantes, generally known as Mother Marius.
The narrator
says that he used to frequent a cafe where there was a charwoman, a
native of
Brittany, whose family name was Keryado, although she was always
called Mother
Marius. He then continues:
Every week I used to leave Nantes on Saturday evening and spend
Sunday on a farm
in the very midst of the countryside. One Saturday I left as usual
— took leave
of the proprietor, of my friends, and said goodbye to this same
charwoman, who
was in excellent health. So, late on Saturday night, I found myself
in the
country as usual, but I must explain that this time, through exceptional
circumstances, I was to remain there for the whole week. The
farm-house had two
rooms; a kitchen and another room. On Thursday, at one o’clock in
the
afternoon, I was talking in the other room with the young girl of
the house.
There was no one in the kitchen. The doors and windows were closed.
We were
talking, when both of us heard a noise in the kitchen, as though
the fire-tongs
had fallen on to the hearthstone. Out of precaution, thinking that
the cat might
be getting into the jars of milk, I went to see what it was. There
was nothing;
everything was shut up. Scarcely had I come back into the room when
there was
the same noise. I turned. Nothing! Since I had already taken up
spiritualism, I
said to the young girl, laughing: “It's a spirit, perhaps” —
attaching no
importance to my words. However, I then had the idea of using a
little round
table, with which we had already experimented, and we waited, both
of us sitting
at it, our hands upon it. Almost immediately we got a communication
through
rapping, according to the usual alphabetic code. “Is this a
spirit?” — “Yes” —
“You lived on earth?” — “Yes” — “You knew me?” — “Yes” — “What was
your name?” —
“Keryado”. At this odd name (I did not remember the charwoman's
family name) I
was about to leave the table, thinking that the reply was pointless,
when the
young girl said to me: “That is the family name of the charwoman in
the café”.
“That is true,” I answered, and then I began a series of questions.
I was
unwilling to believe that she was dead, having left her in perfect
health only
five days before. I asked her for details, and learned that she had
been taken
ill at eight o’clock on Tuesday evening, that she had been carried
to her home,
and that she had died at eleven o’clock, of a haemorrhage ... On
Saturday when I
returned to Nantes, as soon as I got out of the train, I went to
the café, and
there, to my stupefaction, they gave me confirmation of this
woman’s death, and
of all the details she had given me.
Unquestionably also there are other cases in which only telepathy
is at work.
Professor Ernest Wood relates an example, which was told to him by
his father,
who used to investigate these things. On the occasion in question
the medium,
who was a personal friend also, said that he saw standing behind
his visitor the
“spirit” of a man dressed in convict garb. He described him in
detail, saying
that he was looking through prison bars, and adding that he thought
the spirit
wished to communicate. But the fact of the matter was that, a short
time before,
the enquirer had been to see the exhibition at the opening of the
Manchester
Ship Canal, in which was shown one of the old Botany Bay convict
ships fitted up
realistically with wax-work figures. He had stood for some time
looking at one
of these, and wondering what the unfortunate convicts must have
felt, and though
the incident had passed from his mind and been forgotten, that was
the figure of
which the medium gave him a description.
Perhaps the first great mistake which many people make in thinking
about these
things is to assume that one law governs all the cases, and
therefore that they
are either all due to discarnate intelligences, or are all caused
by some form
of simple or complicated telepathy. There is a variety of causes
for the
phenomena produced during psychical research investigations, some
of them being
due to ideas in the mind of the medium or of the sitters, others to
discarnate
intelligences, others to thought-forms casually present or magnetically
attracted, and others again to the psychometric influence of
objects which may
be near.
the pearl tie-pin case
Another good example of successful communication from the other
side of death,
which has been called the pearl tie-pin case, is given in Sir William
Barrett’s
On the Threshold of the Unseen, as follows:
Miss C., the sitter, had a cousin, an officer with our army in
France, who was
killed in battle a month previously to the sitting; this she knew.
One day,
after the name of her cousin had been unexpectedly spelt out on the
ouija board,
and her name given in answer to her query “Do you know who I am?”,
the following
message came:
“Tell mother to give my pearl tie-pin to the girl I was to marry. I
think she
ought to have it.” When asked what was the name and address of the
lady, both
were given; the name spelt out included the full Christian and
surname, the
latter being very unusual and quite unknown to both sitters. The
address given
in London was either wrong or taken down incorrectly, as a letter
sent there was
returned, and the whole message was thought to be fictitious.
Six months later, however, it was discovered that the officer had
been engaged,
shortly before he left for the front, to the lady whose name had
been given; he
had, however, told no one of this. Neither his cousin nor any of
his own family
in Ireland were aware of the fact, and they had never seen the lady
nor heard
her name, until the War Office sent over the deceased officer’s
effects. Then
they found that he had put the lady’s name in his will as his next
of kin, both
Christian and surname being precisely the same as given through the
automatist;
and what is equally remarkable, a pearl tie-pin was found among his
effects.
Both the ladies have signed a document which they sent to me,
affirming the
accuracy of the above statement. The message was recorded at the
time, and not
written from memory after verification had been obtained. Here
there could be no
explanation of the facts by subliminal memory, or telepathy from
the living, or
collusion, and the evidence points unmistakably to a message from
the deceased
officer.
the bird’s-nesting case
Another striking case appeared in The Harbinger of Light for
February, . A
New Zealand gentleman gives what appears to be a good test of
identity from his
soldier son, who was killed on the Somme in September, . The
communication
came to another gentleman through the medium of his wife, who was
known to the
soldier before he left for the war. In the course of his statement
the soldier
says:
Will you convey my love to father and mother, and my brothers?
Thank God they
have not gone to the war. Tell my dear mother not to hold any
fanciful ideas of
me, or to believe every so-called message she may receive. Tell her
I owe her
all that is best in me, for she is brave and good, and I would do
anything
possible to smooth her path in life. Tell her one particular thing
that will
assure her of my presence — tell her that on the day when she
prevented me from
going out bird’s-nesting, and took so much trouble to instruct us
in the right,
I decided always to try to do what was right. Tell her the
recollection of the
anecdote she told us always haunted me. Tell her I have not gone to
any restful
spiritual home yet, and probably will not till the war ends. Tell
her I cannot
be a shirker in the body or out of it, but having been trained with
many good
comrades to do my duty, I try to do it still, and if I were
permitted I could
tell you so much we do to help those still fighting — much that is
sanctioned
and assisted, too, by others higher than ourselves, but I dare not
say. Tell
mother that I was quite suddenly shot out of the body, and felt no
pain
whatever, and thanks to the insight I received through my parents,
and you, and
others, I simply folded my arms and had a good look at my body, and
thought:
“Well, is that all?” I could not wrench myself away from the body
immediately,
and accompanied it when carried off by stretcher-bearers to the
dressing-station, because the body was not quite dead, but I felt
no pain. How
long it was before I lost the consciousness of my material body I
cannot say,
but the freedom I now feel, and the active part I am taking in what
occupied me
so much before death is my duty, and it seems natural and right.
Besides, Mr.
A.—, there are many pledges my comrades and I made to each other in
the face of
death, which are sacred, and must be kept, if possible. But I
cannot stop now.
Goodbye, Mr. A.—, goodbye. I am so delighted to have spoken to you.
Tell father
and mother they need have no regrets, and that my present
activities are more
valuable than when I was in the flesh, and quite as natural. They
will know it
is the right and proper course till time changes affairs. Goodbye.
The father writes that the bird’s-nesting incident was known only
to the boy and
his mother; some years before when he had spoken of going on such
an expedition
his mother had earnestly told him how cruel it was to break down
the home so
care-fully prepared by the parents for their young, and illustrated
her lesson
with the idea of some great giant coming and ruthlessly smashing up
her home and
destroying her children.
This case is also interesting for its simple and straightforward
account of the
soldier’s experiences and feelings when he found himself outside
his body.
cross references
When one portion of a message is given to one medium and another
portion to
another, at a distance from or unknown to the first, so that the
two portions
fit together and make a rational whole, we have what is called a
cross-reference. A well known instance of this is the
Kildare-street Club case,
published in The International Psychic Gazette, and reprinted in
Mr.
Carrington’s Psychical Phenomena and the War (p. 284). The account
of the
incident was furnished by Count Hamon, as follows:
On Monday, May 14, 1917, I attended in a private house a seance at
which Mrs.
Harris was the medium. There were present on this occasion, amongst
several
others whose names I am not authorized to mention, Miss Scatcherd,
Mrs.
Dixon-Hartland, and Dr. Hector Munro.
After many convincing conversations with spirits by means of the
“direct voice”
had occurred, a spirit visitor came and said very distinctly: “I
want to send a
message to my father.”
“Who are you?”, we asked.
The spirit replied: “I am an officer recently killed at the front
in Flanders;
my name is . . .” We could not hear the name very distinctly, so
after some
repeated efforts to get it, we said: “Well, leave the name alone
for the moment
and try to give us the message.”
Speaking very slowly at first, the spirit said, “My father lives
near Dublin;
you will find him at the well-known club there.”
A gentleman present asked: “Which club do you mean?”
The spirit replied: “The Kildare-street Club; you know it well, and
you also
know my father.”
As no one had caught the name of the father exactly right, the
gentleman
referred to said: “I know the Kildare-street Club very well, but I
do not think
I know your father; but give us the message.”
Continuing, the spirit went on: “My father is always worrying and
unhappy about
me; he can't seem to get оver it. I want some one to tell
him that I came here
tonight to get this through as a test message to him, to tell him
not to worry
about me, as I am all right, and glad to have gone through it, and
I want him
not to worry and be unhappy any more.”
After a slight pause he continued, “My father also goes to mediums
in Dublin,
and I try to give him messages through them, but I want this sent
on to him as a
test message.”
We again asked him to try to give us the name, and we got one part
— the
Christian name — very distinctly, but the surname was always so
slurred that we
were unable to catch it clearly, and after many efforts had to give
it up. But
before we did so, I promised that I would do all I could to send on
his message.
The next morning I wrote a letter to the name I thought it had
sounded like,
addressing it to the Kildare-street Club. In about a week this
letter was
returned to me through the Post Office marked “Name not known”.
I was considerably worried as to what I should do next, until the
thought came
to me that I should write to the secretary of the Club, simply
saying that I was
anxious to find the gentleman who, I believed, was a member of his
club, whose
son had recently been killed in Flanders; that the name was
something like
so-and-so, and that I had a message to give him about his son.
Now comes the strangest part of this strange story. In a few days I
received a
letter from the gentleman in question, saying that the secretary
had sent him my
letter, and adding: “I have had a message from my son who was
recently killed in
Flanders, saying he had sent me a message through a medium in
London, that he
had difficulty in getting the name and address through but he
wanted to give me
a test.” The father added: “If you understand this I hope you will
send me his
message.”
the deer IN the Bois
One of the most strikingly successful instances of cross
correspondence is
published in the Journal of the American Society for Psychical
Research, vol.
viii, p. 413, it being a translation from a paper read at a meeting
of the
French Society for Psychical Research by Dr. Geley, M. Camille
Flammarion being
in the chair. In this case the operating entity composed a little
story,
dictated the major portion of it to a medium at Wimereux, near
Bordeaux,
omitting only three sentences, which were dictated separately but
at the same
time to a medium in Paris. The lady in Paris declared that she
could see the
spirit operators, the chief of whom gave his name as Roudolphe, in
the form of
lights, and that one of these lights came and went rapidly. Her
three sentences
were:
“As well behaved as the pupils in a convent for well-trained young
ladies”
“Their large sweet eyes are used to watching the passing”
“The modern lady of fashion whose eyes.”
The following day the post brought to Paris the main part of the
story which had
been written in Wimereux the previous evening. Roudolphe first
explained the
idea of his experiment, and then wrote as follows:
Have you sometimes met, dear friend, as you walked in the thickets,
the deer
that live and roam through the leafy branches, at times . . . (here
the
automatist noted a pause in the writing) ... at times the flock,
jumping and
frightened, so graceful and fascinating? Have you ever asked
yourself what those
pretty animals were thinking, and what they would become later? Far
be it from
me to draw their horoscope (which would after all be of no interest
to them),
but it seems to me that their mentality must be very different from
that which
animates the deer of the forest . . . (another pause) . . . strange
vehicles
running without the aid of an animal’s legs, and in those carriages
or along the
more or less frequented paths, they have contemplated women with
elongated eyes
like their own, delicate and stylish women. Who can ever tell us if
. . .
(another pause) . . . become so unnaturally large under the dash of
the pencil,
is not a doe of the forest in the throes of retrospective
recollection?
Dear friend, I have had some trouble because Miss R. tried to
understand — but
trust I have succeeded with this childish story. Affectionate good
night.
roudolphe.
We will leave it to the reader to put the two portions together and
see how
perfectly they fit. Dr. Geley remarks that both mediums were
ignorant of the
meaning and intention of the sentences they were writing, and that
they both
acted as machines worked by the single direction of an independent
intelligence.
the fiR-tRee test
In New Evidences in Psychical Research, by Mr. J. A. Hill, a
lengthy account is
given of the efforts at cross correspondence between various
mediums. From that
source I will take one case, that of the fir-trees:
On August 28, 1901, Mrs. Verral’s script had some Latin, of which
the following
is a translation: “Sign with
the seal. The fir-tree that has been already
planted in the garden gives its own portent.” This script was
signed with a
scrawl and three drawings representing a sword, a suspended bugle
and a pair of
scissors.
On the same day Mrs. Forbes’s script purporting to come from her
son (who had
been killed in the South African War) said that he was looking for
a sensitive
who wrote automatically, in order that he might obtain
corroboration for her own
writing. This script was apparently produced earlier in the day
than Mrs.
Verrall’s script above mentioned.
The interest of the incident lies in the fact that a suspended
bugle surmounted
by a crown was the badge of Talbot Forbes’s regiment. Further, Mrs.
Forbes has
in her garden four or five small fir-trees grown from seed sent her
from abroad
by her son; these she calls Talbot’s trees. These facts were
totally unknown to
Mrs. Verrall. As bearing on the question of chance coincidence, it
is to be
remarked that on no other occasion has a bugle appeared in Mrs.
Verrall’s
script, nor has there been any other allusion to a planted fir-tree
(p. 172).
Sir Oliver Lodge has expressed a favourable opinion of the
evidential value of a
number of cross-correspondences between Mrs. Forbes, Mrs. Piper,
Mrs. Thompson
and Mrs. Verrall. Many of these tests came from a soi-disant
Frederick Myers.
Sir Oliver said that the scholarship in some cases singularly
corresponds with
that of F. W. H. Myers when living, and surpasses the unaided
information of any
of the receivers. Mr. J. A. Hill, on p. 204 of the book
above-mentioned, adds:
Some of the communications are strikingly appropriate to and
characteristic of
Mr. Myers, in many subtle ways; and this psychological kind of
evidence, made up
of many strokes, some bold, some faint, but all tending to bring
out the
lineaments of this one personality — this psychological evidence, I
say, even
apart from anything else, is as impressive as isolated correct
facts about the
communicator’s past life, which is the kind of evidence most
sought for
hitherto. And, adding to this evidence the cross-correspondences,
which are also
in some instances of characteristic kind — e.g., the anagrams
characteristic of
Dr. Hodgson, and the Dante, Tennyson, and Browning incidents
suggestive of Mr.
Myers, there results a body of recent evidence stronger perhaps
than anything
that has previously been published by qualified investigators, in
favour of
communication from disembodied human beings.
Referring to the telepathic theory as to the cause of these and
similar
occurrences, Mr. Hill writes (p. 203):
If telepathy from the living is to explain all, we shall have to
believe that it
can occur in a very definite and continuous way between people who
do not know
each other, as in the earlier script of Mrs. Holland and in some of
the
trance-speech of Mrs. Thompson. We shall also have to assume a very
complicated
system of telepathic cross-firing among the automatists concerned,
the
cross-firing, moreover, occurring at subliminal depths, leaving the
normal
personalities quite ignorant of all this remarkable activity. I
confess that I
am unable to accept this. To quote Mr. Lang . . . “there is a point
at which the
explanations of common sense arouse scepticism”. And I do not think
that a
telepathic theory of this extended kind can be called an
explanation of common
sense. If it were presented on its own merits, and not as a refuge
from
“spirits”, it would be described, by common-sense people, as a
piece of uncommon
nonsense.
the Two drowned sailors
What amounts practically to a cross-reference, though it was
apparently not
intentional, is related by Mr. W. Britton Harvey, Editor of The
Harbinger of
Light, Melbourne, in his booklet They All Come Back! One evening in
a circle in
his home the intelligence controlling the medium gave his name as
Walter
Robinson, and stated that Fred Field was with him, and added that
they had both
been drowned at sea. Mr. Harvey had known a Walter Robinson, and
had learnt that
he had been drowned, but he had never even heard of Fred Field.
More than a year later an acquaintance happened to tell Mr. Harvey
that some
years before, in a sitting with a Melbourne medium, he had been
greeted by
Walter Robinson and Fred Field, who declared they had been drowned.
I will
complete the story in Mr. Harvey’s own words:
“I knew Walter and Fred well,” continued my informant, “but I had
never heard of
their deaths. They were shipmates of mine at one time, and it was
not for nine
months after they had purported to speak to me that I found out
that they had
been drowned.” I then learnt for the first time that this casual
acquaintance
used to live a few miles from the town in which I resided in the
Old Country. At
that time he went to sea, and that was how he got to know Walter
Robinson and
Fred Field. I had not mentioned either of these names to him
previously. In
fact, this was the first chat we had had together, and this will
account for my
not knowing before that he once resided so close to me in England
(p. 15).
the book tests
In 1922 the Rev. Charles Drayton Thomas put forth a book entitled
Some New
Evidence for Human Survival. In this he opens up on a large scale a
method of
investigation but slightly touched upon hitherto, in the form of
book and
newspaper tests. These tests are stated to come from his father,
the Rev. John
Drayton Thomas (who died some years ago) acting through Mrs.
Leonard, with the
assistance of a control who calls herself Feda.
The general method of book-tests, of which some hundreds are
related, is for the
“spirit” to go into Mr. Thomas’s library (some distance from the
house where the
sittings are held), select a book, observe some ideas on a certain
page or pages
in that book, and then announce them. Several of these observations
are written
down on one occasion; they are afterwards verified, and have been
found to be
for the most part correct.
The operators have apparently certain difficulties in seeing the
actual print of
the book, but in some manner not easy to comprehend they can grasp
the idea
involved in the printed words. They cannot apparently see the
numbers printed on
the pages, but they can count the pages from the beginning of the
printed
matter, and so indicate exactly those to which they wish to refer.
Some of the
tests are taken from books on the shelves, but others with equal
success were
performed with books belonging to other people, made up into
carefully sealed
parcels, the contents of which were quite unknown to the
experimenters until the
parcels were opened in order to verify the test messages.
I will give two typical examples of book-tests from the many
recorded by Mr.
Thomas, which range variously over description, humour, topics of
the day,
philosophy and religion.
In your study, close to the door, the lowest shelf, take the sixth
book from the
left, and page 149; three-quarters down is a word conveying the
meaning of
falling back or stumbling.
Rather more than half-way down the page was the following sentence:
... to whom a crucified Messiah was an insuperable stumbling-block.
Very low down on the page he seemed to get something about great
noise, not a
sharp, thin sound, but a heavy one, more of a roaring noise.
Close to the bottom of this page was the sentence:
I chanced to come that time along the coast, and heard the guns for
two or three
days and nights successively, (pp. 15-.)
Mr. Drayton Thomas says that these book-tests were given, so it was
claimed by
the “spirit friends,” not so much as a proof of identity, as
illustrating the
ability of a spirit to obtain information unknown to the sitter or
medium, and
yet capable of easy verification.
In Chapter XII Mr. Thomas gives a series of book-tests which were
communicated
for Lady Glenconnor, who has also herself written about them in The
Earthen
Vessel. The messages were transmitted from the late Hon. Edward
Wyndham Tennant
through the same medium, the late Rev. John Drayton Thomas and Feda
communicating. This time they used the books in the libraries at
Lady
Glenconnor’s house in Scotland, at her town house, and also at
Wilsford Manor.
Summing up the results of two years’ work the author finds that out
of 209 book
tests spontaneously given 147 were good, 26 indefinite, and 36
apparent failures
(p. 98).
A test by madame blavatsky
Before closing this subject of book-tests, let me recount one such
example also
from the record of Madame Blavatsky. Her life was full of incidents
showing
remarkable powers in many directions; of these one may read
especially in The
Occult World and Incidents in the Life of Madame Blavatsky, by A.
P. Sinnett,
and in Old Diary Leaves, by Col. H. S. Olcott. Mr. G. Baseden Butt
has recently
written a careful and thoughtful account of her life in his volume
entitled
Madame Blavatsky. From that I take the following “test” related by
Countess
Wachtmeister (p. 153):
An experience related by the Countess Wachtmeister cannot be
explained save on
the assumption that the Masters really exist and were able to
communicate with
her. In the autumn of 1885, before she had met Madame Blavatsky,
and before she
knew that she was likely to meet her, the Countess was making
preparations to
leave her home in Sweden in order to spend the winter with some
friends in
Italy, intending to visit Madame Gebhard at Elberfeld en route.
While she was
laying aside the articles she intended to take with her, the
Countess, who was
clairvoyant and clairaudient, heard a voice saying: “Take that
book, it will be
useful to you on your journey.” The book referred to was a
manuscript collection
of notes on the Tarot and passages in the Kabbalah compiled by a
friend.
Countess Wachtmeister could conceive of no purpose for which this
book might be
required, but, obedient to her clairaudient injunction, she laid it
in the
bottom of one of her travelling trunks. At Elberfeld, Madame
Gebhard persuaded
the Countess to go to Würzburg and spend the winter with Madame Blavatsky
there
instead of going to Italy. When the Countess arrived at Würzburg,
and was going
into the dining-room to take some tea, Madame Blavatsky said
abruptly, as if the
matter had been dwelling on her mind:
“Master says you have a book for me of which I am much in need.”
The Countess Wachtmeister denied that any books were with her, but
Madame
Blavatsky bade her think again, as Master said that her visitor had
been told in
Sweden to bring a book on the Tarot and the Kabbalah. “Then,” adds
the Countess,
“I recollected the circumstances I have related above. From the
time I had
placed the volume in the bottom of my box it had been out of my
sight and out of
my mind. Now, when I hurried to the bedroom, unlocked the trunk,
and dived to
the bottom, I found it in the same corner I had left it when
packing the box in
Sweden, undisturbed from that moment to this. But that was not all.
When I
returned to the dining-room with it in my hand, Madame Blavatsky
made a gesture
and cried: ‘Stay, do not open it yet. Now turn to page ten, and on
the sixth
line you will find the words . . .’ And she quoted a passage.
I opened the book, which, let it be remembered, was no printed
volume of which
there might be a copy in H. P. B.’s possession, but a manuscript
album in which,
as I have said, had been written notes and excerpts by a friend of
mine for my
own use, yet on the page and at the line she had indicated I found
the very
words she had uttered.
When I handed her the book I ventured to ask her why she wanted it.
‘O,’ she replied, ‘for The Secret Doctrine.’ ”
Surely this incident establishes at one and the same time the
existence of the
Masters and the reality of Madame Blavatsky’s power of
clairvoyance.
the newspaper tests
Satisfactory as the book-tests are, what are known as the
newspaper-tests are
still more effective. These messages, instead of relating to books
existing in
libraries, in closed parcels or even in locked iron boxes, refer to
tomorrow’s
paper. Various newspapers were used, but chiefly the London Times,
and the
communications related therefore to what had not yet been printed;
enquiries at
the office of the paper resulted in the information that at the time
of the
sitting the type-matter had not yet been assembled, and probably
some of it had
not even been set up. Respecting these tests Mr. Thomas says also:
It is important to realize that a copy of these notes was made the
same evening,
and posted in London so that it would be delivered early the
following morning.
It was sent to the Secretary of the Society of Psychical Research
in accordance
with my invariable custom, a practice adopted many months
previously, when I
realized that the tests from the papers of the day after the
sitting were
becoming a regular feature of conversations with my father through
Mrs. Leonard
and Feda. (p. .)
There is generally a certain vagueness about these tests, as in the
book-tests,
but that the communicating intelligences do make a connection
between words in
the newspaper and names or facts familiar to the enquirers is
certain. For
example, they say (p. 131) “On page 1, column 2, near the top,
there is the name
of a minister with whom your father was friendly at Leek.” The name
Perks was
found in the place indicated, and he had known a minister of that
name at Leek.
There are many carious approximations in these tests. For example,
it was
announced that in a certain column, one-quarter down, would appear
Mr. Thomas’
father’s name, his own, his mother’s, and that of an aunt. In the
position
indicated the names John and Charles appeared. These were correct,
but instead
of Emily and Sarah (the names of an aunt and Mr. Thomas' mother)
were the words
Emile Sauret! Similarly in the place stated to contain the maiden
name of the
mother “or one very like it” was the word Dorothea, while her name
was Dore.
Notwithstanding this vagueness these messages do present a valuable
addition to
the evidence for the existence of intelligence beyond that of the
sitters, and
this record is especially useful because Mr. Thomas sent his tests
to the
Secretary of the Society for Psychical Research before the newspapers
were
printed.
In twelve such sittings, containing 104 tests, Mr. Thomas finds
that there were
73 successes, 12 inconclusive items, and 19 failures, and in
another set of
trials there were 51 successes out of 53 tests (p. 153). Many tests
were also
received for persons other than the sitters, and relating to facts
entirely
unknown to them.
the source of the messages
In studying the probable source of these messages, Mr. Drayton
Thomas feels
assured that they do come from his deceased father, for all his
sittings abound
in references to his doings and surroundings which would normally
be unknown to
Mrs. Leonard, also with references to his father’s earth-life, and
besides “they
include a wide range of elusive touches which are unproducible in
cold print,
but in which I see my father’s personality ringing true to that
which I knew so
well during his life on earth” (p. 190). We must, of course,
consider that the
medium of Feda might read his mind, but as to this he says: “Up to
the present
all my experiments with Feda have failed to find in her any trace
of ability to
explore my thought or reproduce my memories; the evidence all
points the other
way.” (p. .)
He mentions also that it is a curious experience, after having
received correct
references through pages of books scattered about his library to
hear the
control struggling to spell out a name which he himself knows to be
that which
is required for completing some explicit description, and to find
that such
efforts usually fail to pass beyond the initial letter of the
required name, and
that his own concentration upon the name appears to make things not
one whit
easier. He concludes: “That my father links his former memories
with matter
discovered in preparation for the morrow’s press is the only
explanation
logically fitting with the facts.” (p. .)
As to the views of the “spirits” themselves upon the way in which
they obtain
the newspaper tests, Mr. Thomas received the following
communication:
These tests have been devised by others in a more advanced sphere
than mine, and
I have caught their ideas. This may be done even when we do not
realize whence
the thought originates, much as when minds on earth receive
inspiration. We can
visit these higher helpers, and, even when away from them, may be
very conscious
of their assistance. I am not yet aware exactly how one obtains
these tests, and
have wondered whether the higher guides exert some influence
whereby a suitable
advertisement comes into position on the convenient date; I have
thought of
this, but do not know. These tests will be better than the
book-tests, because
more definite, and their object will be to prove that we can obtain
information
from other quarters than the mind or surroundings of the sitter; it
will be
useless to invoke “the subconscious mind” as an explanation here. I
was taken to
the Times office, and did not find the way there by myself; helpers
are
plentiful when we are engaged on work of this kind. (p. .)
In another communication given later, in reply to the question: “Do
you now
understand what it actually is that you operate upon at the
Times office?”' the
father said:
It is still a puzzle. On one occasion I thought I saw the complete
page set up;
it certainly appeared to be so, and I noticed certain items in it
which I
believe proved correct. But on returning to the office a little
while after —
for I frequently go twice to make sure of the tests — I found that
the page was
not yet set up, and this astonished me and was most perplexing. (p.
.)
In other communications the deceased clergyman speculates variously
upon the
possible methods by which future events may be known, but
apparently in that
world as in this the mystery of time is not yet solved.
-------Cardiff Theosophical Society in Wales-------
206 Newport Road, Cardiff, Wales, UK. CF24-1DL
.
Chapter VI
.
PARTIAL MATERIALIZATION
varieties op materialization
All the most interesting phenomena of the seance room are connected
in some way
or other with materialization — that is to say, with the building
of physical
matter round some astral form, in order that through it the ego
inhabiting that
astral form may be able to produce results upon the physical plane.
But of this
materialization there are three varieties. Let me here quote a
passage from my
own little book upon The Astral Plane, p. 118:
The habitues of seances will no doubt have noticed that
materializations are of
three kinds: First, those which are tangible but not visible;
second, those
which are visible but not tangible; and third, those which are both
visible and
tangible. To the first kind, which is much the most common, belong
the invisible
spirit hands which so frequently stroke the faces of the sitters or
carry small
objects about the room, and the vocal organs from which the “direct
voice”
proceeds. In this case an order of matter is being used which can
neither
reflect nor obstruct light, but is capable under certain conditions
of setting
up vibrations in the atmosphere which affect us as sound. A
variation of this
class is that kind of partial materialization which, though
incapable of
reflecting any light that we can see, is yet able to affect some of
the
ultra-violet rays, and can therefore make a more or less definite
impression
upon the camera, and so provide us with what are known as “spirit
photographs.”
When there is not sufficient power available to produce a perfect
materialization we sometimes get the vaporous-looking form which
constitutes our
second class, and in such a case the “spirits” usually warn their
sitters that
the forms which appear must not be touched. In the rarer case of a
full
materialization there is sufficient power to hold together, at
least for a few
moments, a form which can be both seen and touched.
Nearly all the phenomena coming under this third subdivision of
ours are
effected by means of the first of these types of materialization,
for the hands
which cause the raps or tilts, which move objects about the room or
raise them
from the ground, are not usually visible, though to be able to act
thus upon
physical matter they must themselves be physical. Occasionally, but
comparatively rarely, they may be seen at their work, thus
explaining to us how
that work is done in the far more numerous instances in which the
mechanism is
invisible to us. Such a case is given to us by Sir William Crookes,
F.R.S., in
his interesting book Researches in the Phenomena of Spiritualism,
p. 93:
A luminous hand
I was sitting next to the medium, Miss Fox, the only other persons
present being
my wife and a lady relative, and I was holding the medium’s two
hands in one of
mine, whilst her feet were resting on my feet. Paper was on the
table before us,
and my disengaged hand was holding a pencil. A luminous hand came
down, from the
upper part of the room, and after hovering near me for a few
seconds, took the
pencil from my hand, rapidly wrote on a sheet of paper, threw the
pencil down,
and then rose up over our heads, gradually fading into darkness.
The raps and the tilts are too well known to need description, but
cases in
which heavy objects are raised and suspended without the contact of
visible
hands are somewhat less commonly seen, so it may perhaps be well to
cite one or
two of them. In the book just quoted, on p. 89, Sir William Crookes
tells us:
On five separate occasions, a heavy dining-table rose between a few
inches and a
foot and a half off the floor, under special circumstances, which
rendered
trickery impossible. On another occasion a heavy table rose from
the floor in
full light, while I was holding the medium’s hands and feet. On
another occasion
the table rose from the floor, not only when no person was touching
it, but
under conditions which I had prearranged so as to assure
unquestionable proof of
the fact.
It will be seen, therefore, that the similar experience of my own,
which I have
described a few pages back, is by no means unique. Mr. Robert Dale
Owen, in his
Footfalls on the Boundary of Another World, p. 74, gives a
remarkable case of
similar nature:
cases of levitation
In the dining-room of a French nobleman, the Count d’Ourches,
residing near
Paris, I saw, on the first day of October, 1858, in broad daylight,
at the close
of déjèuner à la fourchette, a dining-table seating seven persons,
with fruit
and wine on it, rise and settle down, as already described, while
all the guests
were standing round it, and not one of them touching it at all. All
present saw
the same thing. Mr. Kyd, son of the late General Kyd, of the
British army, and
his lady told me (in Paris, in April, 1859) that in December of the
year 1857,
during an evening visit to a friend, who resided at No. 28 Rue de
la Ferme des
Mathurins, at Paris, Mrs. Kyd, seated in an armchair, suddenly felt
it move, as
if someone had laid hold of it from beneath. Then slowly and
gradually it rose
into the air, and remained there suspended for the space of about
thirty
seconds, the lady’s feet being four or five feet from the ground;
then it
settled down gently and gradually, so that there was no shock when
it reached
the carpet. No one was touching the chair when it rose, nor did
anyone approach
it while in the air, except Mr. Kyd, who, fearing an accident,
advanced and
touched Mrs. Kyd. The room was at the time brightly lighted, as a
French salon
usually is; and of the eight or nine persons present all saw the
same thing in
the same way. I took notes of the above, as Mr. and Mrs. Kyd
narrated to me the
occurrence; and they kindly permitted, as a voucher for its truth,
the use of
their names.
People have not infrequently been lifted in this way in their
chairs, though
rarely, I fancy, to the height of five feet. Sir William Crookes
saw several
instances of the same phenomenon, and thus describes them in his
Researches, p.
.
On one occasion I witnessed a chair, with a lady sitting in 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,
remaining suspended for about ten seconds, and then slowly
descended. Another
time two children, on separate occasions, rose from the floor with
their chairs,
in full daylight, under (to me) the 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. Home’s
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.
Colonel Olcott, in his People from the Other World, also mentions
having heard
this account from the lips of one of the witnesses. He gives us,
too, some
striking instances of levitation upon the part of the Eddy
brothers.
I have myself on three occasions been present when the medium,
seated in a heavy
armchair, was lifted clear over our heads as we sat round the
table, and placed
in the centre of it. On two of these occasions I was myself holding
one of the
medium’s hands, and continued to hold it during his aerial
excursion, while a
trustworthy friend held the other. Although this took place in
darkness, we were
certain that no one from the physical plane lifted that chair;
though as a
matter of fact we did not need that assurance, for there was no one
in the room
at all capable of such a feat of herculean strength. The moment
that the medium
and his big chair were safely landed on the table, raps called for
a light by
the prearranged signal, so that we might see what had been done,
our dead
friends being evidently rather proud of their achievement.
lifted то the CEiling
I myself was once lifted at a seance in rather an unusual way — at
least I have
not heard of any other case exactly similar. It was at one of the
earliest of
the public seances which I attended, and many people entirely
unknown to me were
present. Some ladies on the opposite side of the table cried out
that a hand was
patting and caressing them, but this in absolute darkness did not
seem to be
entirely convincing; so that when their exclamations of delight and
gratitude to
the “dear spirit” were becoming a little monotonous I asked
quietly: “Will the
spirit be so kind as to come across and touch me?” I had hardly
expected any
response, but the “spirit” took me promptly at my word; my hand
was instantly
seized in a strong grasp, and pulled upwards so that I was
compelled to rise
from my chair. Even when I stood upright, the upward pull still
continued, so I
hastily stepped on to the seat of my chair. Still the steady
irresistible pull,
and a moment later I was hanging in the air by one hand, and still
ascending. My
knuckles touched the smooth, cold surface of the plastered ceiling
— the room
was a lofty one —and then, apparently through the ceiling, another
hand patted
mine softly, and I felt myself sinking. Directly afterwards my feet
touched the
chair, and only then the firm grasp loosened, giving me a final
hearty
hand-shake as it left me. I climbed down from my chair, convinced
that “the
clasp of a vanished hand” might sometimes be a fairly strong one.
When I told this story to sceptics afterwards I was always met with
one of two
explanations. First, that there was a trap-door in that ceiling,
and that some
mechanical device was employed; secondly, that the medium was
standing on the
table in the darkness, and lifted me himself. To the first
suggestion I reply
that the ceiling was plain, smooth, whitewashed plaster, with never
a crack in
it, for I climbed again upon my chair in full light afterwards to
examine it;
and though it was some distance beyond my reach, it would have been
utterly
impossible to miss seeing a crack if one had been there. Besides,
my request
could not have been foreseen, and arrangements made to grant it in
so striking a
manner. As to the second hypothesis, the medium was a small, spare
man, and I
weigh over thirteen stone; perhaps the sceptic who suggests this
will himself
stand upon the edge of a circular dining-table with one central
support, and
then with one hand lift a much heavier man than himself straight up
above his
own head, holding him suspended merely by one of his hands all the
while.
тRUе levitation
The probabilities are that all the cases of lifting which I have
quoted or
described were performed by materialized hands, just as in this last
experience
of my own. There is quite another method of levitation which is
occasionally
practiced in Oriental countries — a much more occult and scientific
method,
dependent for its success upon the knowledge and use of a power of
repulsion
which balances the action of gravitation. I have also seen that,
and indeed
every student of practical magic is familiar with its employment;
but it does
not seem to me at all probable that this power was called into
requisition in
any of the above cases.
Gravitation is in fact a force of a magnetic nature, and may be
reversed and
changed into repulsion, just as ordinary magnetism can be. Such a
reversal of
this peculiar type of magnetism can be produced at will by one who
has learnt
its secret, but it has also frequently been produced
unintentionally by
ecstatics of various types. It is related, for example, both of St.
Teresa and
of St. Joseph of Cupertino that they were often thus levitated
while engaged in
meditation. But I fancy that those who are levitated at a
spiritualistic seance
are generally simply upborne by the materialized hands of the dead.
These same materialized hands manage all the smaller business of
the seance;
they wind up the perennial musical box and wave it over the heads of
the
sitters; they play (sometimes quite sweetly) upon that curious kind
of miniature
zither which is usually euphoniously termed “fairy bells”; they
sprinkle water
or perfume sometimes; they bring flowers and fruits and even lumps
of sugar,
which I have known them deftly to insert into the mouths of their
friends.
It is usually they also that are employed in slate-writing, though
this may
sometimes be managed still more rapidly by means of precipitation,
to which we
shall make reference presently. But generally the fragment of
pencil enclosed
between the slates is guided by a hand, of which only just the tiny
points
sufficient to grasp it are materialized.
A slate-wRiting seance
One well-known medium in London used to carry this slate-writing to
a high
degree of perfection some fifty years ago. It was the finest
possible
performance to which to take the bigoted sceptic, who boasted that
nothing ever
happened or would happen while he was present. One made an
appointment with the
medium for, say, eleven o’clock on a bright summer morning; one
took the sceptic
into a stationer’s shop on the way and made him buy two ordinary
school slates,
put a tiny crumb of slate-pencil between them (or sometimes two or
three
fragments of different colours) and then have them packed up in
brown paper and
strongly tied. One then purchased a stick of the best sealing wax
and requested
the sceptic to seal the string with his own seal in as many places
as he wished
— the more the better — and on no account whatever to allow that
parcel to go
out of his hands.
Then we proceeded to the medium’s house and commenced the seance,
cautioning the
sceptic to sit upon his parcel in order to make sure that no one
tampered with
his slates. The medium commenced operations with slates of his
own, which were
always lying upon the table for examination before the seance
began; and the
sceptic had usually elaborate theories about these, as to how
messages had
already been written upon them, and washed out with alcohol so that
they would
presently reappear; or else that of course they would presently be
dropped out
of sight and others substituted for them by sleight-of-hand. It was
best as a
rule to let him talk, and take no notice, knowing that one could
afford to bide
one’s time.
The medium usually held a single slate pressed with one hand
against the under
surface of the table — a little plain wooden table with no drawers,
and
obviously no contrivance of any sort about it — not even a cloth
upon it. Under
these conditions answers were written to any simple question, or
any sentence
dictated was faithfully taken down. Here the sceptic usually
interposed by
requesting that a sentence might be written in Sanskrit or Chinese
or the
Cherokee dialect, and was hugely triumphant if the controlling
“spirit”
confessed that he did not happen to know these languages.
Occasionally he
fetched somebody who did know them, and then the sceptic was
somewhat staggered,
though he still clung to the idea that somehow or other the whole
thing was a
fraud.
Presently, however, when the seance got into full swing, one
insinuatingly asked
the directing entities whether they could write upon our own
slates; and though
I have once or twice been told that they feared the power was not
sufficient, in
three cases out of four the reply was in the affirmative. Then one
turned to the
sceptic and requested him to produce his parcel, asking him to
examine the seals
so as to be perfectly certain that it had not been touched. He was
then
courteously requested to hold the sealed parcel in his own hands
above the
table, the medium perhaps taking hold of one corner of it, or
perhaps merely
laying his hand lightly upon it. Then the sceptic was further
requested to
formulate a mental question, but on no account to give any
indication as to its
nature. He did this, and it was generally an interesting study to
watch the
expression of his face when he heard the sound of rapid writing
going on in the
parcel between his hands. In a few moments three quick taps
signified that the
message was finished, and the medium removed his hand, gravely
asking the
sceptic to examine his seals and make sure that they were intact.
He then cut his parcel open, and found the inside surfaces of his
new slates
covered with fine writing on the subject of his mental question.
Usually for the
time he was speechless, and went home to think it over; but by the
end of the
week he had generally made up his mind that we had been in some
inexplicable way
deceived or hallucinated, and that “of course we did not really see
what we
thought we saw.” Nevertheless it was a hard nut to crack, and his
frequent
references later to “that clever but ridiculous performance” showed
that it
remained in his mind, and had perhaps done him more good than he
was willing to
own.
The answers given in this way sometimes displayed considerable
intelligence and
knowledge. It appeared to me, however, that they were often
considerably
modified by decided opinions on the part of the questioner —
whether from a
friendly desire to please him, or because the ideas were largely a
reflection
of those in his own mind, there was not sufficient evidence to
show. For
example, I remember myself receiving a perfectly definite statement
regarding
the existence of certain persons in whom I was deeply interested;
the
communicating entity not only positively asserted this existence,
but adopted
towards them precisely my own attitude. Yet I afterwards discovered
that only a
week previously what professed to be the same entity had, in
writing answers for
another person, totally denied that any such personages existed at
all! It may
have been that here we had to deal with two entirely different
communicating
entities, one masquerading for some reason or other under the name
and title of
the other; but it is at least significant that in each case the
opinion
expressed agreed precisely with that of the questioner. On the
other hand, I am
bound to admit that in many cases the answers given were not at all
what any of
us expected, and contained information which could by no
possibility have been
known to any of those present.
It is not difficult to see why this slate-writing should be one of
the easiest
forms of conveying a message, and indeed the only kind of writing
that can
readily be performed in full daylight. For the fact is that it
never is
performed in daylight, even though the surrounding conditions are
so absolutely
satisfactory to us. Between the two slates or between the slate and
the table
there is always the darkness which makes materialization easy. When
a physical
body is slowly grown and built together in the ordinary way, when
it is
thoroughly permeated by the vital principle and definitely
energized by the
spirit, it becomes a relatively permanent organism, and can
withstand the impact
of vibrations from without, within certain limits.
We must remember that materialization is a mere imitation of this —
a mere
concourse of fortuitous atoms, temporarily put together in
opposition to the
ordinary laws and arrangements of nature. It therefore needs to be
constantly
held together with care and difficulty, and any violent vibration
striking it
from without readily breaks it up. It must also be remembered that
the matter
employed in materialization is almost all withdrawn from the body
of the medium,
and is therefore subject to a strong attraction which is constantly
drawing it
back to him. The strong and rapid vibrations of ordinary light will
therefore
dissolve a materialization almost instantaneously, except under
exceptional
circumstances.
It can be maintained for some time in presence of a faint light,
such as that
given by gas turned low, or by what is called a “luminous slate”,
which is
usually a piece of wood or cardboard coated with luminous paint,
and exposed to
the sun during the day, so that at night it may give out a faint
phosphorescent
radiance. It is, however, among the resources of the astral plane
to produce a
soft light the effect of which seems to be far less violent; and in
this it is
sometimes possible for the hand which writes to maintain its
corporeal existence
for a considerable period, as is evidenced by the following
extract from a
description of a seance held with Kate Fox by Mr. Livermore on
August 18, .
an hour’s writing
The cards became the center of a circle of light a foot in
diameter. Carefully
watching this phenomenon, I saw the hand holding my pencil over one
of the
cards. This hand moved quietly across from left to light, and when
one line was
finished, moved back to commence another. At first it was a
perfectly shaped
hand, afterwards it became a dark substance, smaller than the human
hand, but
still apparently holding the pencil, the writing going on at
intervals, and the
whole remaining visible for nearly an hour. I can conceive of no
better evidence
for the reality of spirit-writing. Every possible precaution
against deception
had been taken. I held both hands of the medium throughout the
whole time. I
have the cards still, minutely written on both sides; the
sentiments there
expressed being of the most elevated character, pure and spiritual.
(The
Debatable Land, p. .)
This account gives us an example of the difficulty, even under
these
exceptionally favourable conditions, of maintaining a
materialization for so
long a period. It seems to have been impossible to preserve the
shape of the
hand, but something visible which could still hold and guide the
pencil was
somehow kept together until the necessary work was finished.
It seems probable that the working of the little board called
planchette is
sometimes accomplished by means of a partial materialization, for I
have seen
cases in which it distinctly moved underneath the fingers which
were resting
upon it, and was in no way moved by them. When it is clearly the
hand which
moves the board, this phenomenon of course belongs to our first
class, in which
the body of the medium is utilized, though that medium may be
entirely
unconscious of what is being done.
direct painting
I have also seen some good specimens of painting which were
probably executed in
the same manner as the writing above described. I say probably,
because as they
were executed in darkness, it is impossible to be absolutely sure;
they may have
been precipitations, although as that is a more difficult process,
I do not
think that it is likely to have been employed. There have been
mediums who have
made a specialty of this production of pictures, and it is
certainly a very
pleasing exhibition of astral power. I have twice seen a little
landscape,
perhaps eight inches by five, produced in total darkness on a
marked piece of
paper in from fifteen to twenty minutes. The execution was fair,
the colours
were natural and harmonious, and some of the paint was still wet
when the lights
were turned up. I am perfectly sure that the sheet of paper
employed was in each
case that which I brought with me. In one instance, just before the
lights were
turned down, I tore a curiously jagged fragment off one of the
corners of the
piece and kept it in my own possession until the picture was
completed, and
found when the lights were turned up that it fitted exactly into
the tear in the
sheet upon which the landscape was drawn.
On neither of these occasions was the landscape one which I
recognized, though
at the house of the same medium I have seen well-executed paintings
of scenes
with which I was familiar, which I was told had been produced in
exactly the
same manner. In both of these cases a box of water-colours, a
palette and
brushes were provided, and after the seance they bore signs of
having been used.
I have also on another occasion, and with a different medium, seen
a much larger
drawing in coloured chalks produced in darkness in even less time,
but in this
case the execution, though bold and dashing, was certainly crude
and erratic.
The subject in this case was a lady’s head, and the likeness was
recognizable,
though not flattering. On all these occasions it was absolutely
certain that the
medium was in no way concerned in the production of the pictures,
his hands
being held during the whole time, and the outline of his form being
sufficiently
visible in two of the cases to prevent him from moving without
instant
detection.
musical performances
A man who has attained facility during life in the management of
any kind of
instrument does not lose his power when he drops his physical body.
I have heard
both a violin and a flute played fairly well by invisible hands,
when there was
light enough to see that the instruments were not being touched by
any of the
persons present in the physical body. I have also many times seen a
concertina
played in the same way, sometimes while I myself held the other end
of the
instrument. Many times also a piano has been played in my presence
by invisible
hands, and it seemed to make no difference whether the lid
enclosing the
keyboard was open or shut. Sometimes, before beginning to play, the
dead man
would dash back the lid, and then we could see the keys depressed
as the playing
went on precisely as though we ourselves had been operating upon
the instrument.
If during the performance we closed the piano, the playing usually
went on just
as if it had remained open. On two occasions I have heard the wires
of a piano
played without moving the keys, just as the strings of a harp might
be.
Another instance of a man who after death retained his power to
operate a
machine to which he had been accustomed during life is given by Sir
William
Crookes on p. 95 of his book. The operator was not exactly using
his instrument,
but he undoubtedly showed that he still possessed the power to do
so, had the
instrument been there. The story is as follows:
the telegRaph opeRatoR
During a seance with Mr. Home, a small lath, which I have before
mentioned,
moved across the table to me, in the light, and delivered a message
to me by
tapping my hand; I repeating the alphabet, and the lath tapping me
at the right
letters. The other end of the lath was resting on the table, some
distance from
Mr. Home’s hands.
The taps were so sharp and clear, and the lath was evidently so
well under
control of the invisible power which was governing its movements,
that I said:
“Can the intelligence governing the motion of this lath change the
character of
the movements, and give me a telegraphic message through the Morse
alphabet by
taps on my hand?” (I have every reason to believe that the Morse
code was quite
unknown to any other person present, and it was only imperfectly
known to me.)
Immediately I said this, the character of the taps changed, and the
message was
continued in the way I had requested. The letters were given too
rapidly for me
to do more than catch a word here and there, and consequently I
lost the
message; but I heard sufficient to convince me that there was a
good Morse
operator at the other end of the line, wherever that might be.
the direct voice
In the case of the flute above mentioned it is obvious that the
performer must
have materialized not only finger-tips to press the keys, but also
a mouth with
which to blow. It is by no means uncommon at a seance for the dead
man to
construct vocal organs sufficiently to produce intelligible sound,
though this
appears to be (as indeed one would naturally suppose) a much more
difficult feat
than the production of a hand. Often the construction of such
organs seems to be
imperfect, and the resulting voice is a hoarse whistling whisper. I
think almost
invariably the first attempts of an unaccustomed ghost to
materialize a voice go
no further than the softest of whispers; but on the other hand the
“spirit
guide” of a regular medium, having practiced the art of
materializing organs and
speaking through them many hundreds of times, often possesses a
perfectly
natural and characteristic voice.
All those who have been in the habit of attending the seances of
certain
well-known mediums during the last half-century must be familiar
with the round,
sonorous voice of the director who elects to be known by the name
of “John
King”, and the hearty, friendly manner in which he greets those
whom he has come
to know and trust. I well remember an occasion when, having invited
a medium
down to my cottage in the country, we were walking together across
a
wheat-field, and a well-known “spirit-voice” joined in our conversation
in the
most natural way in the world, just exactly as if a third person
had been
walking with us.
I am quite aware that the ordinary explanation of a “spirit-voice”
is that it is
an effort of ventriloquism on the part of the medium, but when one
recognizes
the voice as one well known in earth-life that explanation seems a
trifle
unsatisfactory. Also it seems to me to fail to account for the fact
that on one
occasion, at a seance in my own house, the unseen performers
treated us to a
song in which all four parts were distinctly audible, two of them
being taken by
very good female voices — and that although the medium was of the
male sex (and
in a deep trance anyhow) and none but men (trusted friends of my
own) were
physically present in the room.
Under this head of partial materialization we must also include
what are
sometimes called “spirit photographs”; for whatever can be
photographed must of
course be physical matter, capable of reflecting some of the rays
of light which
can act upon the sensitized plate of the camera. It does not at all
follow that
it need be composed of matter visible to us, for the camera is
sensitive to a
large range of actinic ultra-violet rays which produce no
impression whatever
upon our eyes as at present constituted.
I know enough of photography to realize how easily a so-called
“spirit-photograph” could be produced by trickery, but I also know
that there
are a great many which were as a matter of fact not so produced. I
have seen a
large number of those which were taken under test conditions for
Mr. W. T. Stead
when he was investigating this curious form of mediumship, and I
have also been
favoured with a sight of several of those taken by and for our late
Vice-President, Mr. A. P. Sinnett.
interesting photographs
. A
good typical case of this photography of the partially materialized
dead was
related to me by a veteran army officer. It seems that he had lost
(as we
usually call it) three daughters by death, within a comparatively
short space of
time. One day in a large city, hundreds of miles from home, he saw
an
advertisement of a photographer who professed to be able to produce
portraits of
the dead, so he turned into his studio then and there, and asked to
be taken. He
gave no indication of what he expected, or indeed that he expected
anything at
all beyond his own portrait; and he asserts that it was absolutely
impossible
that he could have been, in any way known to the photographer. Yet
when he
called for the portraits three floating faces appeared grouped
about his own,
fainter than his, but unmistakably recognizable. He showed me the
photograph,
and also the portraits of his daughters taken during their physical
life; they
were unquestionably the same young ladies as those in the picture
taken after
their death.
In Photographing the Invisible Dr. James Coates gives us a number
of examples of
photographs on which appear psychic “extras,” as they are sometimes
called.
Many of these were produced under conditions which precluded any
sort of
preparation of the plates, and were developed in the presence of
reliable
witnesses. A curious example on the photograph of a Chinese man is
recounted by
Mr. Edward Wyllie, a well-known American “spirit-photographer”.
(pp. 167-.)
.
I
had been giving tests to some gentlemen in Los Angeles in
connection with the
Psychic Research Society. Some were convinced of the fact of
psychic
photography, and others were not. It was suggested by one member it
would be a
good thing if I could obtain “extras” on the plate of someone
wholly ignorant of
both the subject and of spiritualism. Then it could not be said
that their
knowledge or attitude had anything to do with the results. It was
not easy to
get someone with the qualifications desired. When one day
“Charlie,” a Chinese
laundryman, called for my clothes, it struck me to ask him:
“Charlie, like to
have your picture taken?” “No,” he replied. “No likee that.” He
knew that I was
a photographer, but had a dislike, I think, to photography, as most
Chinese
have. I tried to persuade him after he had called two or three
times. I showed
him that there could be no harm in it, and I would take a “glass”
(as negatives
are called) for nothing, and print him some nice pictures of
himself. Charlie
wanted to go home and change his clothes, but I knew it would not
do to let him
slip, and got him to sit. He was very much scared. I made his mind
easy and
asked him to come in a few days, and I would give him the pictures.
When I
developed the negative there were two “extras “on it — a Chinese
boy and some
Chinese writing. When Charlie came round I showed him the print,
and he said:
“That my boy; where you catchee him? “I asked him if it was not one
of his
cousins in the city. He said, “No, that my boy. He not here; where
you catchee
him?” I asked him where his boy was, and he said, “That my boy.
He’s in China.
Not seen him for three years.”
Charlie would not believe that I had not by some magic got his “boy
here”.
Charlie then brought other Chinamen — friends of his own — to see
the picture,
and they all recognised the youngster. Charlie did not know that
his son was
dead. As far as he knew, he was alive and well.
Mr. Wyllie also had remarkable success in obtaining the same sort
of psychic
impressions upon photographs of letters and locks of hair. Dr.
Coates relates
(p. 197 et seq.) that before Mr. Wyllie was induced to visit
Scotland, a test of
his photography was proposed in The Two Worlds (1st Jan., 1909). In
consequence
about forty people sent locks of hair to be photographed. All got
some “extras,”
some of which were identifiable portraits of departed friends.
Among the experimenters were Mrs. A. S. Hunter, widow of Dr.
Archibald Hunter of
Bridge of Allan, and Mme. A. L. Pogosky, also a widow, director of
the Russian
Peasant Industries in London. The photograph of Mme. Pogosky’s card
had two
psychic faces upon it — one of Dr. Hunter, and the other that of
the deceased
wife of Mr. Auld, a friend of Dr. Coates’. Mrs. Hunter's photograph
showed, in
addition to the letter and lock of hair which she had sent, three
forms,
identified as an old schoolfellow, and a niece and nephew, all
dead. Referring
to the picture of Mrs. Auld, Dr. Coates remarks:
.
Here we have an identified portrait of a lady, taken by a stranger
six thousand
miles away, wholly ignorant of Mr. Auld or ourselves. I had not
written this
medium (Mr. Wyllie) till the 17th of March, 1909, nearly two months
after this
picture was obtained, and of its existence none in Rothesay were
aware till . .
. nearly fourteen months afterwards. Truly truth is stranger than
fiction.
Later Mr. Wyllie visited Dr. and Mrs. Coates in Scotland, and took
many “spirit”
photographs there. When he was packing up his things preparatory to
taking his
departure Mrs. Coates (who was herself psychic) had a sudden
impulse to ask for
a sitting. Mr. Wyllie had packed away his favourite camera, but
there were still
in the room a Kodak camera and some plates purchased locally, that
is, in
Rothesay. One of the plates was exposed on Mrs. Coates, and when
developed
showed also a good likeness of her grandmother (p. 223),
That Mr. Wyllie’s “extras” could be produced under test conditions
was proved by
the report of a test committee, appointed by the Glasgow Association
of
Spiritualists. They stipulated that they should provide the camera
and plates;
the former belonged to one of the committee, the latter, eight in
number, were
bought at the nearest chemist’s twenty minutes before the meeting,
and were put
into slides in the chemist’s dark room. After the plates were
exposed they were
immediately placed in the camera bag and taken away by the
committee and
developed. Under these test conditions several of the plates showed
psychic
impressions. (pp. 253-.)
-------Cardiff Theosophical Society in Wales-------
206 Newport Road, Cardiff, Wales, UK. CF24-1DL
Chapter VII
.
THE
MANIPULATION OF PSYCHIC RODS
the goligher circle
In three valuable little books — The Reality of Psychic Phenomena
(1916),
Experiments in Psychical Science (1919), and Psychic Structures
(1921) — the
late Mr. W. J. Crawford, D.Sc., of Belfast, Ireland, has given us a
carefully
classified account of a long series of investigations into the
telekinetic
phenomena of the Goligher Circle, his studies having been carried
on especially
from the mechanical point of view. The circle is so called because
it is
composed of the principal medium, Miss Kathleen Goligher, and other
members of
her family, namely her three sisters, brother, father and
brother-in-law, with
only occasional visitors.
recording the sounds
It is characteristic of Dr. Crawford’s methods that at the very
beginning of his
research he should seek to convince himself and the rest of the
circle that they
were merely subjects of hallucinatory sense-images induced by the
peculiar
conditions of the seance-room. This he did by taking a number of
phonograph
records. He explained to the invisible operators, with whom he was
in
communication by means of raps, that he was about to make a record,
and
requested them to give as complete a selection as possible of the
various sounds
which they had been producing in the circle, and all within the
space of time
permitted by the revolutions of the recording cylinder. About this
he says:
.
I
then asked the operators if all was ready, and on their replying by
three raps
in the affirmative I called out, “Start”. Immediately a thunderous
blow
resounded on the floor and I started the machine. Half a dozen
sledgehammer
blows, varieties of double and treble knocks, and shufflings like
sand-paper
rubbing the floor were given in succession; the hand-bell was
lifted and rung;
the legs of the table were raised and knocked on the floor; the
sound of wood
being apparently sawn was heard; and so on. They kept up this
terrific noise
until I called out, “Stop”; when, at the word, perfect silence
reigned. We then
tried the record, and found that most of the noises had been
recorded; but the
bell, owing to its being rung too far away, was almost inaudible. I
therefore
suggested to the operators that they should ring the bell right in
the middle of
the circle and as near the trumpet of the phonograph as possible,
and I promised
not to upset their conditions of equilibrium by attempting to touch
it.
Accordingly, during the taking of the next record the bell was rung
within an
inch or two of my hand, and so close to the trumpet that it
accidently touched
it and knocked it off the instrument. This partly spoiled the
record.
In all, three good records and the partly spoiled one were taken,
and these show
beyond dispute, as was anticipated, that the sounds are ordinary
objective
sounds. (R. P. P., pp. 30-.)
weighing the medium
Further on in the same book Dr. Crawford records a number of
experiments in
which he weighed the medium before and during the levitation of the
table or
stool placed in the center of the circle of the sitters, it being
never in
contact with any portion of the body or dress of the medium or any
other sitter.
His conclusions as to this are given as follows:
(a) When the
table is steadily levitated, a weight is added to
the medium very nearly equal to the weight of the table.
(b) The seat
of the reaction would therefore appear to be chiefly
the medium herself.
(c) Taking an
average over the six cases, the increased weight
on the medium seems to be about 3 per cent less than the weight of
the levitated
table. (pp. 44-.)
Wishing then to discover if any of the weight of the steadily
levitated table
was added to other members of the circle, he asked Mr. Morrison
(the
brother-in-law) to sit on the chair on the weighing machine which
had previously
been occupied by the medium, while she sat on an ordinary chair in
the circle.
When the table was levitated, Mr. Morrison’s weight rose two
ounces. As this
might have been due to other causes, Dr. Crawford balanced the
steelyard of the
weighing machine and then, asked the operators to jerk the table up
and down in
the air. While it was moving, the steelyard went up and down
lightly against the
stops, in synchronism with the movement of the table. After a
number of such
experiments he drew the conclusion that when the table is steadily
levitated the
reaction falls upon the body of the medium to the extent of at
least 95%, and
that a small proportion is distributed over the bodies of the other
sitters.
Thus:
.
As
Admiral Moore suggests, when a table is steadily levitated the
effect is
precisely the same as it would be if the medium lifted it herself
with her
hands, aided by a very slight assistance from the members
constituting the
circle — say, the help that could be given by a force applied by
one finger
each. (p. .)
the lines oF force
Dr. Crawford goes on to relate that in the course of many
investigations, when
he and others sought to press down the levitated table they
encountered an
elastic resistance, but to their surprise, when they tried to push
the table
towards the medium they found a perfectly rigid or solid
resistance. Whenever a
visitor undertook to try to prevent the table from rising, it did
so
nevertheless; first the two legs nearest to the medium rose, as
though the table
were being tilted at the inclination most suitable for a projection
from the
medium to gain the shortest and most powerful grasp. As this
occurred wherever
the visitor might be standing (though it must be understood that he
was in no
case permitted to do so directly between the medium and the table)
it would seem
that there is a projection in the direction suggested by the
diagram reproduced
herewith. (Fig. 4, p. .)
.
Further experiments with a compression spring-balance under the
table, when the
operators were requested to levitate the table in their usual
manner, gave the
result, to take one example, that the vertical reaction for the
seance table
weighing103/8 lb, was greater than 28 lb, and showed that there was
also a
horizontal pressure against the balance and away from the medium,
amounting to
about 5 lb. (p. 120). A stool weighing 23/4 lb when levitated above
a drawing
board weighing 51/2 lb resting upon a compression spring-balance,
registered a
downward force of about 24 lb. In this class of experiments it is
evident that
in the total we have pressing upon the drawing-board the weight of
the stool
plus that of the pillar of psychic matter which is supporting it.
In the earlier
type of experiment mentioned above, we have evidently a cantilever
support from
the medium, not resting on the floor. The full researches into
these matters
showed Dr. Crawford that in most cases the cantilever form was used
when it
would not inconvenience the medium by tending to overbalance her.
(p. .)
Dr. Crawford next invented a very delicate “contact-maker”. Two
pieces of
cardboard (c) and wood (w) were hinged together as shown in the
diagram (Fig.
22, p. 139). Two small strips of clock-spring (ss) were attached to
these, and
to an electric bell circuit, so that when any pressure was exerted
upon the
wood and cardboard sides so as to bring the two strips into contact
the bell
would ring. The instrument was so delicate that heavy breathing
upon it was
sufficient to cause contact. With this instrument Dr. Crawford
explored the
field under the levitated table and near to the medium, and thus
found the
situation of the stress-lines of the force from the medium to the
table, as in
both cases the bell rang at certain points and the levitation was
then
interrupted in some degree. On this he writes as follows:
I have some reason to believe that the establishing of these
stress-lines (the
links) is for the operators a difficult process, and that once
formed they
remain more or less in situ for the duration of the seance. I think
they may be
likened to tunnels somewhat laboriously cut through resisting
material. Their
basis seems to be physical, for I have actually felt the motion of
material
particles near the ankles (and proceeding outwards from them) of
the medium (the
stress-lines seem to commence sometimes at the wrists and ankles of
my medium),
and I have noticed during the rapping that when my hand interferes
with the
particle flow — which seems to correspond with a stress-line — the
rapping has
ceased for quite a long time and could seemingly only be restarted
with
difficulty. In other words, the path had been obliterated. I do not
think the
particles of matter (for such I am assuming them to be) are the
cause of the
pressure which lifts the table. I think they are the connecting
links which
allow the psychic pressure to be transmitted, much in the manner
that a wire is
a path which enables electricity to flow. (pp. 140-1).
feeling the substance
In Experiment 65 (p. 145) Dr. Crawford describes what this
substance feels like
to the touch. He says:
. I
felt no sense of pressure whatever, but I did feel a clammy, cold,
almost oily
sensation — in fact, an indescribable sensation, as though the air
there were
mixed with particles of dead and disagreeable matter. Perhaps the
best word to
describe the feeling is “reptilian”. I have felt the same substance
often — and
I think it is a substance — in the vicinity of the medium, but
there it has
appeared to me to be moving outwards from her. Once felt, the
experimenter
always recognizes it again. This was the only occasion on which I
have felt it
under the levitated table, though perhaps it is always there, but
not usually in
such an intense form. Its presence under the table and also in the
vicinity of
the medium shows that it has something to do with the levitation;
and in short
I think there can be little doubt that it is actual matter
temporarily taken
from the medium’s body and put back at the end of the seance, and
that it is the
basic principle underlying the transmission of psychic force.
The above-mentioned test was made with his hand under the table
near the top
while it was levitated. When he moved his hand to and fro among the
psychic
stuff the table soon dropped. On page 225 he also mentions that he
has often
felt the same cold, clammy, reptile-like sensation near the ankles
of the medium
when rapping was taking place close to her feet at the commencement
of a seance,
though he would never experiment in this way at an important
sitting, because he
found that it interrupted the flow of matter and put a stop to the
phenomena for
the time being.
The sensation would lead him to believe that the same quality of
matter is
present during rapping as under the levitated table, and he noticed
that in the
former case it is in motion in the direction from the body of the
medium
outwards; this, he says, can easily be observed by the spore-like
sensation as
of soft particles moving gently against the hand. He adds that
during levitation
of the table he never actually interrupted the line of stress from
the medium to
the table with his hand, but he sometimes placed delicate
pressure-recording
apparatus in that line, which showed that there was some mechanical
pressure
close to the body of the medium and acting outwards from her
towards the
levitated table. In every case the placing of the apparatus in that
line soon
caused the table to drop.
In Psychic Structures (p. 61) he adds that he distinctly felt a
cold breeze
issuing from the neighbourhood of the medium’s ankles and the
region just above
her shoes, which appeared to be caused by material particles of a
cold,
disagreeable, spore-like matter. As his investigations proceeded
he came to
know quite certainly that what he was really doing was to cut
across the part of
the structure which was not heavily materialized, as is the end
with which its
work is done.
Sometimes Dr. Crawford did come in contact with the end of a rod.
On some
occasions the operators held the end of a rod stationary in the air
while he
pressed against it and kicked it, and found it “softish but very
dense”. He says
(Psychic Structures, p. 31) that during one of the tests, when he
was poking
about the floor in the medium's neighbourhood with a wooden rod,
he accidently
came against the end of a psychic rod which happened to be out an
inch or two up
in the air. In the same place he mentions that the suckers on the
ends of the
rods can often be heard slipping over the wood, when they are
presumably being
forced off or are taking new grips. He mentions (p. 32) an occasion
when the
table suddenly dropped about six inches in the air and
simultaneously there was
heard a swishing noise.
A visitor to the Circle, Mr. Arthur Hunter, also describes what he
himself felt,
as follows:
Towards the end of the seance I asked the “operators” (having first
obtained the
permission of the leader of the circle) if they could place the end
of the
structure in one of my hands. On the reply “Yes” I went inside the
circle, lay
down on my right side on the floor alongside the table, and placed
my gloved
right hand between the two nearest legs of the table. Almost
immediately I felt
the impact of a nearly circular rod-like body about 2 inches in
diameter on the
palm of my hand, which was held palm upwards. (The back of my hand
was towards
the floor and at a distance of about 5 in. from it.) This circular
rod-like body
was flat at the end, i.e., as if the rod were sawn across. It
maintained a
steady pressure evenly distributed over the area of impact, and
was soft but
firm to the sense of touch. I estimate the magnitude of pressure at
from 4 to 6
oz. Without being requested to do so, the “operators” moved this
rod-like
structure until I felt the clearly defined edges of the circular
blunt end. This
was accompanied by a sensation of roughness, as though the edge
were serrated,
such a feeling, I believe, as would be given by a substance similar
to very fine
emery paper, (pp. 21-.)
In addition to this feeling, he had occasionally had fitful
glimpses of the
psychic matter in the ordinary red light of the seance room, but
in 1919 Dr.
Crawford made a discovery which enabled the form to be much more
easily seen. A
sheet of cardboard about one foot square was covered with luminous
paint,
exposed to sunlight for some hours and then placed on the floor
within the
circle. In the dark seance-room such luminous sheets shone quite
strongly. While
the medium had her feet and ankles locked in a box the operators
were asked to
bring out the structure and hold it over the phosphorescent sheet.
In a short
time a curved body somewhat resembling the toe of a boot advanced
into the
light. The operators modified it into many shapes, while Dr.
Crawford watched
the changes. The end portion would contract and gradually lengthen
until a
pointed shape was produced, and then that would sometimes curl
round into a
hook, twisting and untwisting before his eyes. It could also spread
out sideways
until it resembled a mushroom or a cabbage. The flexibility, he
says, was
marvellous. (pp. 111-3).
the cantilevers
Following upon a great number and variety of experiments Dr.
Crawford put
forward his cantilever theory for levitation of light tables, based
upon the
fact that (1) during steady levitation with no apparatus or other
impedimenta
below the table, the weight of the table is practically added to
that of the
medium; (2) the medium is under stress, the muscles of her arms
from wrist to
shoulder being rigid, and other parts of the body being similarly
affected,
though to a less degree, and (3) there is no reaction on the floor
under the
table. The idea that the force employed is in the form of a
cantilever issuing
direct to the table from the body of the medium is also supported
by the facts
that vertical pressure meets with elastic resistance, while
pressure towards the
medium meets with solid resistance. His summation of the theory,
after
considering all mechanical evidence, and after conversing on the
subject with
the operators by means of raps, was that:
The cantilever arm gets under the table — probably a more or less
straight arm
in this case, as there is little stress. Whatever the physical
composition of
the substratum of the end of the arm may be, it has the power to
take an
adhesive grip on certain substances, such as wood, with which it
comes into
contact. The broad columnar end of the arm grips adhesively the
under surface of
the table. (R.P.P., p. 167).
On page 230 (R. P. P.) this theory is confirmed by a lady
clairvoyant who
happened to be present at some of the experiments. She said that
she saw under
the table, close to the under surface and extending down a little
way, a whitish
vapoury substance which increased in density when the table was
levitated. She
was able to call out that a movement was about to occur before it
actually took
place, by noticing the increase of density and opacity. She
explained that the
column did not reach to the floor, but that a band of it came from
the medium
and was continuous with that under the table, and also that there
were very thin
bands, like ribbons, coming from all the other sitters as well, and
joining it.
She also saw various “spirit forms” and “spirit hands” manipulating
the psychic
material.
But the culmination of proof arrived when Dr. Crawford succeeded in
taking
photographs of the structure. Quite a number of photographs of
matter thus
issuing from the medium and forming these structures have been
published in
Psychic Structures. The first of these faces page 10, and shows the
general form
of the structure as above described, and the fact that it is
connected not only
with the medium but also with other sitters,
.
In Experiments in Psychical Science (p. 14) Dr. Crawford recounts
how he
obtained from the operators a description of the dimensions and
shape of a
normal levitating cantilever. They said that the top of the
columnar part of the
cantilever is spread out into a broad flat surface of area approximating
to the
under surface of the table, that the vertical and horizontal
sections are about
4 inches in diameter, the latter being 3 or 4 inches above the
floor, and that
just before entering the body of the medium the rod widens out to a
diameter of
about 7 inches. Dr. Crawford drew the figure which we reproduce
herewith (Fig.
6, E.P.S., p. 15) to show these facts.
.
It was found in certain experiments (E.P.S., p. 31), that when the
levitated
table was heavily weighted the medium’s body swung gently forward,
and she said
that she felt herself being urged forward, though she was not
conscious of any
mechanical pressure. When she swung strongly forward the table
dropped. Dr.
Crawford then told her to hold on with her hands to the arms of the
chair, while
he placed an additional weight on the table, increasing the whole
to nearly 48
lbs. “When the table levitated the medium’s chair tilted forward on
its two
front legs and the table dropped.
.
All
this was further confirmation of the cantilever method. The
operators explained
(p. 33) that they prefer to work with a cantilever, for when they
rest the
structure on the floor, as is necessary in some kinds of
demonstration, it is
badly strained and much energy is required to maintain its
rigidity. So for all
moderate weights, that is up to about 80 lbs. a true cantilever is
employed, but
for greater and variable forces they use a supported structure.
The question arose (E.P.S., p. 117) as to how the ends of rods and
cantilevers
could be acting at their junction with the medium’s body, for
certainly a
structure several feet long and supporting 30 or 40 lbs. weight at
its end, if
it were a rigid bar, would cause serious pressure, and indeed
injury. Dr.
Crawford thinks that the explanation is to be found in the
different condition
of the matter. He speaks of X-matter, which can transmit through
itself direct
and shear stresses, but cannot transmit them from itself to
ordinary matter.
Then he posits Y-matter, a modified form of the former, which is
what is usually
called materialized substance. Then he says:
.
The
Y-matter at the free end of, say, the psychic cantilever, grips
the wood of the
under-surface of the table, which is then levitated. Weight of
table is
transmitted to this Y-matter, and from the latter to the X-matter
of the body of
structure. The mechanical stress is transmitted along the X-matter
right into
the body of the medium. At the place where the structure enters the
body of the
medium, no stress of any kind is transmitted to her flesh, because,
at this
particular place, we have X-matter and ordinary physical matter in
juxtaposition, and stress cannot be directly transmitted from the
former to the
latter. Within the interstices of the medium’s body the X-matter
of the psychic
structure probably ramifies, and each ramification at its extremity
becomes
Y-matter, and this Y-matter is attached to various interior
portions of the
medium’s body, which thus finally and indirectly take the weight of
the table,
(p. .)
the raps
Similar observations and methods of weighing showed that the weight
of the
medium began to diminish just before light raps were heard. Soon
afterwards the
weight began to decrease in successive fluxes of 2 to 5 lbs. When
a loud blow
was given the weight would diminish as much as 20 lbs., and then in
the course
of six or seven seconds it would come nearly back to what it was
before.
Numerous observations led to the following conclusions:
.
From various parts of the body of the medium psychic semi-flexible
rods are
projected, the end portions of which, being struck sharply on the
floor, table,
chair, or other body, cause the sharp sounds known generally as
raps.
These rods have apparently all the characteristics of solid bodies;
they are
more or less flexible, and can be varied in length and diameter.
Several of the
smaller rods, or one of the largest size, may project from the medium
at any one
time. Each one, especially near its extremity, is more or less
rigid, and the
rigidity can be varied within limits depending upon conditions of
light, the
psychic energy available, and so forth. The rigidity is probably
ultimately
brought about by some kind of molecular action concerning which we
are as yet
perfectly ignorant — the kind of action that produces the same
effect on the
cantilever. (p. 193, R. P. P.)
In Experiments in Psychical Science (p. 16), the operators’ own
account as to
how the raps are produced in two ways is given as follows:
Soft raps, bounding-ball imitation, etc. — by beating the side of
the rod on the
floor, as one uses a stick for beating a carpet.
.
Hard raps—by beating the rod on the floor more or less axially.
Dr. Crawford says that while he was obtaining this explanation the
operators
illustrated the various styles of raps under consideration by
actually rapping
on the floor. When he asked them what were the approximate
dimensions of a rod
used to give a fairly hard blow, they gave a sample blow on the
floor and told
him that the rod used was about 2 inches in diameter and of uniform
thickness
until just before entering the body of the medium, where it
increased to about 3
inches. They also said that the same rod could be used to make a
variety of
raps: light taps, as though a lead pencil were striking the floor,
the bouncing
ball imitations, and also hard blows.
type writing
The Reality of Psychic Phenomena (p. 201) describes an experimental
attempt at
typewriting, on a very old Bar-Lock machine. The keys were struck
lightly and
rapidly as though a pair of hands was playing over them, but they
became jammed
as though several had been struck simultaneously. Dr. Crawford then
explained to
the operators that they must strike each key separately and allow
time for its
return before striking another. The advice was followed by the
operators, who,
however, succeeding in writing only the following:
mbx: gcsq'
Dr. Crawford remarks that the experiment is chiefly interesting as
showing that
the keys can be struck with just the force necessary to produce the
correct
result. He adds that the letters on the keys were in some cases
much worn, so
that perhaps the operators found some difficulty in reading them.
A more successful attempt at typewriting was made at one of the
sittings of Mr.
Franek Kluski, and is recorded in Dr. Greley’s book Clairvoyance
and
Materialization (p. 269). The seance was one of those intended for
the
production of paraffin moulds of materialized hands, of which we
will give an
account in a later chapter. Splashing was heard in the paraffin and
the hands
were seen by Mr. Broniewski and Prince Lubomirski above the tank,
and at the
same time a typewriter which was on the table, fully illuminated by
red light,
began to write. The keys were operated quickly, as by a skilful
typist. There
was no one near the machine, but the persons holding Mr. Kluski’s
hands observed
that the reaction was upon him, for they twitched during the
writing. The typed
words were: “Je suis le sourire de 1’équilibre; mon poème d’amour
et de vie
emplit les siècles.”
impressions in clay
.
A
large number of Dr. Crawford’s experiments were performed by
requesting the
operators to press the ends of rods into basins or trays of clay or
other
substance which would take the mould, which were placed under the
table.
Although the ankles of the medium were securely fastened in various
ways, and
the feet and legs of the other sitters were also tied so that they
could not get
within 18 in. of the clay, quite frequently, at first somewhat to
the surprise
of the investigators, many of the impressions were found to be
lined with what
resembled stocking marks, while others seemed similar to
impressions which might
be made with the sole of boot or shoe. All these were examined most
carefully,
the conclusion being that the forms which resembled the marks of
the sole of a
shoe could not possibly have been so made, but were due to the
elastic
distortion of the ends of psychic rods, which have the following
peculiarities:
.
When the free end of the psychic rod is flat it can press on
material substances
and grip them by adhesion.
.
The
gripping action is a true suction, being due to a difference of air
pressure,
the air being squeezed out from the space between the flat end of
the rod and
the body which it is contacting.
In order to produce this suction effect, the end of the rod is
covered with what
appears to be a thin, pliable skin. As a matter of fact the end of
one of these
large flat-ended rods often feels soft and plasm-like to the touch.
The very
finely divided, crater-like appearance of most of the suction marks
also shows
decisively that the suction end of such rods must possess a soft,
pliable
surface. (P.S., pp. 39-.)
The concave impressions varied in size from the mark one could make
with one’s
little finger to a size of 4 or 5 sq. in., but the largest was less
than half
the size of the largest flat marks. Their peculiarity was that most
of them had
the imprint of stocking fabric. This was the usual effect, but on
request to the
operator they could also be made quite smooth (p. 53). The
impression is,
however, altogether sharper than anything that can actually be made
with a
stockinged foot, for in the latter case there is a dull, blunt
outline owing to
the foot behind the stocking exerting a squeezing effect, no matter
how lightly
it may be applied. But the psychic impression has little raised
edges projecting
upwards from the impression left by each thread.
The reason why this impression should appear is given as follows.
The actual
psychic structure is covered by a film which is formed against the
medium’s
feet out of psychic matter oozing round about the little holes in
the fabric of
her stockings. It is at first in a semi-liquid state, and it
collects and partly
sets on the outer covering of the stocking, and being of a
glutinous, fibrous
nature, it takes almost the exact form of the stocking fabric. It
is pulled off
the stocking by the operators and then built round the end of the
psychic rod.
The large flat impressions, which involve heavy pulls and pushes,
have this
surface further thickened and strengthened by the application of
additional
materialized matter, which wholly or partly covers the impression
of the
stocking (pp. 56-7).
transportation of clay
It was soon observed that some of the clay was carried back when
the material
returned to the medium, and streaks were found upon and within her
shoes and
stockings, and on the floor between the medium and the bowl of
clay. In a few
cases, when a sitter felt that he or she had been touched by the
rod, marks were
also found upon them. All this led Dr. Crawford to try to discover
where the
structures emerged from the medium. On page 71 he says that the
floor all round
the medium’s shoes was covered with patches of clay, but where her
feet rested
on the floor it was clean, which proved that they could not have
moved. The clay
had been deposited on the edge of the sole of the shoes and in the
slight clear
space between the edge of the sole and the floor, but had not been
able to
penetrate where the sole was in actual contact with the floor. It
was apparent
that the material had then moved up the shoe and gone into it
through the
lace-holes and over the top, and there were generally particles of
clay on the
flat of the shoes inside, wherever parts of the foot of the medium
were not
pressing tightly on the leather. It had also been noticed that
there were
sometimes peculiar rustling noises in the neighbourhood of the
medium’s feet and
ankles just prior to the phenomena, and that these were probably
due to psychic
stuff being sent in fluxes down the material of the stocking. There
were also
slight flapping noises on the floor as the material was brought out
and placed
there (p. 81).
the path op the teleplasm
These observations led Dr. Crawford to experiment extensively with
various
powders and colouring matters, in order to trace the path of the
material. These
investigations are recorded at length in Psychic Structures. I will
here give
only one or two examples. The following is an account of experiment
Z (p. 128):
.
The
medium had her feet on a specially modified electrical apparatus.
She had her
feet in the seance shoes and wore white stockings. The operators
could be heard
working away at the legs of the medium. After about twenty minutes
they said
they wished to deliver a message. This was taken by means of the
alphabet and
was to the effect that the white colour of the medium’s stockings
was affecting
the plasma, and that it would be necessary for her to change into
black ones.
This was done, and phenomena soon commenced. A dish containing
flour was placed
well beyond the reach of the medium on the floor, and the operators
pushed their
psychic structures into it. At the end of the seance the shoes and
stockings
were examined.
Result: Only the right shoe and stocking were affected by the
flour. On this
stocking there was a large flour-mark right across the interior
side, just above
the shoe, and there were marks and smudges on the stocking below
the level of
the shoe to the sole. The magnifying glass showed that the whole
sole was
covered with flour particles from end to end, and there were
particles at the
toes.
.
There was flour all up the front and over the laces of the right
shoe, as though
the plasma had retreated along the floor, up the front of the shoe
to the ankle
of the medium on the interior side, and then down between the
stocking and the
shoes to the sole of the foot. Also there were small particles of
flour right to
the top of the stocking.
In experiment CC gold paint was used:
.
Medium had on shoes treated with gold paint, as in the previous
seance. At the
end many gold particles were found on one stocking along the sole
to the heel
and up over the heel. Also many particles were found on the
stocking fabric to
the very top of the stocking. A close inspection showed that there
was a regular
stream of gold particles right up both stockings to the top, this
stream being
most prominent about the region of the knees.
Dr. Crawford’s conclusions from these experiments are given on
pages 133-4 as
follows:
.
The
data given above concerning the movement of powdered substances,
such as carmine
or flour, from the interior of the shoes of the medium up the sides
of her shoes
and up her stockings can only lead to one conclusion. The plasma
must get into
the medium’s shoes in some manner or other. It either originates in
her feet and
makes its way to the outside by coming up between her shoes and her
stockings,
or it goes into her shoes first, accomplishes some process there,
and then comes
out again. It usually issues round the sides of the shoes, up from
the middle of
the sole of the foot, where the contact between shoe and stocking
is slight,
although usually there is also a considerable movement up the back
of the heel.
As I have already indicated, this outward and inward movement of
the plasma
occurs even if the medium’s feet are laced up in long boots.
In many of the experiments already described, as well as a
well-defined carmine
path from the feet, there were visible distinct traces of carmine
up the
stockings as far as the knees, and even up to the top of the
stockings. Usually
these carmine paths were thickest and most plainly visible round
about the ball
of the calves at the back, and usually there was more carmine on
the stockings
between the legs than on the outside. The question then arose as to
whether
there was a flow of plasma from the medium’s body down the legs, as
well as the
flow from the feet upwards, or, indeed, whether the whole of the
plasma did not
come from the trunk of the medium, flow down the legs and then, in
some peculiar
manner and for some particular reason connected with the building
up of the
psychic structures, enter her shoes and fill up the space between
stockings and
leather. For, after all, it has to be remembered that our feet and
legs are
only pieces of apparatus to enable us to move about, analogous to
the wheels of
a cart, and that the great centres of nervous energy and reproductive
activity
are within the body proper.
Further experiments were performed in order to discover whether the
plasma
issues from the lower part of the trunk as well as returns by it.
The following
is one such experiment, with the investigator’s conclusions:
.
A
little slightly damp carmine was carefully rubbed on the inside of
the legs of
the knickers some inches up, and the medium put the knickers on
very carefully.
At the end of the seance it was found that the carmine had traced
paths right
down the legs of the knickers, had spread out round the embroidery
at the edge,
had gone on the stockings, made paths right down the stockings,
mostly along the
ball of the leg, and had even gone into the shoes, which were clean
ones.
Therefore it is certain that plasma issues from the trunk as well
as returns
thereby.
The quantity of plasma must be considerable, for the carmine had
spread round
the medium’s legs right to the posterior, and in between the legs
to the base of
the backbone; i.e. the plasma had at one time or another during
the seance
occupied practically all the space which did not make close contact
with her
chair. This result suggests that during interruptions in phenomena,
or when
light is temporarily lit during a seance, the plasma conceals
itself round about
the top of the medium’s legs under her clothing, and does not
necessarily all
return to her body. If it always went back into her body, a
considerable time
would have to elapse between each burst of phenomena, but this does
not usually
occur. So long as the plasma is away from the temporary disturbing
influence,
such as rays of light, the purpose of the operators is served
(pp.136-7).
the photographs
At last came the time when it became possible to take photographs.
This could
only be done after a careful study of the effect of the phenomena
upon the
medium. Dr. Crawford had observed (p. 146) that when the medium was
sitting on
her chair in the ordinary way, and he placed his hands upon her
haunches, and
the development of psychic action was going on, parts of the flesh
seemed to
cave in. Then, as the psychic material came back, little round
lumps could be
felt filling in on the back of the thighs and on the interior of
the thighs.
For about a year Dr. Crawford took one photograph each seance
night, in the
hope that he might ultimately obtain success. The operators had informed
him by
raps that he might finally expect this, though he had to take care
to prevent
injury to the medium, as it was necessary gradually to work her up
to withstand
the shock of the flashlight upon the plasma. He found that the
pulse of the
medium, which was 84 at the beginning, rose to 120 just before the
flash (while
the operators were endeavouring to exteriorize a psychic structure
fit to be
photographed) and then went back to normal gradually, Observation
showed that
generally during all kinds of phenomena the pulse of the medium
rose, the palms
of the hands became a little moist and the fingers cool, but
neither temperature
nor respiration seemed to be affected to any degree. (p. 143).
Ultimately, as we have already said, he succeeded in his
photography. As Dr.
Crawford puts it:
.
After innumerable attempts, however, very small patches of plasma
were obtained
in full view between the medium’s ankles. As time went on these
increased in
size and variety until great quantities of this psychic material
could be
exteriorized and photographed. Then the operators began to
manipulate it in
various ways, building it up into columns, or forming it into
single or double
arms, moulding it into the different shapes with which I had been
long familiar
in a general way from previous investigation. Not only did they do
this, but
they showed unmistakably, by means of set photographs, from what
part of the
medium’s body the plasma issued, and by means of ingenious
arrangements devised
by themselves brought out many of its properties. (p. 148).
the direct voice
Dr. Crawford also describes, in Experiments in Psychical Science,
his
experiments in direct voice phenomena in his own house with a
medium known as
Mrs. Z. He sat her upon a weighing machine with the weight
balanced, while two
trumpets were placed upright on the floor within the circle. After
about fifteen
minutes the lever of the machine fell lightly on the bottom stop,
which
indicated that her weight was decreasing, and he found that this
decrease
amounted to about 21/2 lbs. Then suddenly a voice called out from
somewhere near
the roof within the circle “Weigh me” and a trumpet dropped to the
floor, while
the medium’s weight immediately returned to its original value.
Fifteen minutes
later the same thing happened again, the same words were heard, a
trumpet
dropped and the same weight was recorded.
Although these phenomena took place in the dark, and the weighing
was merely
felt by Dr. Crawford, it was quite impossible for the medium to
have done
anything but sit quite still. She weighed nearly 20 stone, and her
slightest
movement would have been detected, while her lifting anything would
have
increased, not decreased the weight. Dr. Crawford asked the control
if he had
been weighing her or the trumpet, but she did not seem to know.
In a later experiment (p. 184) Dr. Crawford arranged to record the
direct voice
on a phonographic cylinder. He asked the control to bring the
mouth of the
trumpet up to the horn of the phonograph, and when she said that
she was ready,
requested her to begin to speak as soon as she heard the buzzing of
the machine.
Dr. Crawford then says:
The cylinder had made only a few revolutions when the control
commenced to sing
a song into the horn. This song was three verses in length, and at
the end of
each verse she interjected remarks such as “How’s that?” etc. I
told her to sing
a little louder, and during the third verse she sang quite loudly.
.
I
plainly felt the movement of the air just at the mouth of the
phonograph horn as
the song was being sung, which would seem to indicate that the end
of the
trumpet was moving to and fro at the spot. Moreover, the control’s
voice
emanated from a position just at the mouth of the horn. I did not
attempt to
touch the trumpet, as I knew from experience that if I did so it
would be likely
to drop. If an end of the trumpet was thus at the mouth of the
phonograph horn
as it appeared to be, the nearest distance of the other end of the
trumpet from
the medium must have been well over four feet. At the conclusion of
the song,
and after I had stopped the instrument, I asked the sitters on
either side of
the medium if they still had hold of her hands, and they replied in
the
affirmative. These sitters afterwards told me that during the
taking of the
record the medium’s hands were vibrating rapidly, as though they
were under
great nervous stress. (pp. 184-5).
As to these records, Dr. Crawford says that there is in them
internal evidence
that the voice must have been speaking close to the horn of the
phonograph and
not from some distance away. He adds that it is well known among
people who are
continually making records that if the voice speaks too close into
the horn a
kind of tinny, metallic sound is produced, which phonographic manufacturers
call “blasting”. In several places in the two records of the
control’s voice
this “blasting” is heard, indicating that the voice must have been
very close
to, if not within, the horn of the phonograph.
-------Cardiff Theosophical Society in Wales-------
206 Newport Road, Cardiff, Wales, UK. CF24-1DL
Chapter VIII
.
MISCELLANEOUS PHENOMENA
precipitation
I have already mentioned in connection with the phenomenal
production of
paintings or writings that there is another method by which this
may be done,
more rapid and efficient, but requiring greater knowledge of the
possibilities
of the astral plane. This method is usually described as
precipitation, and
broadly speaking its modus operandi is as follows: The man wishing
to write or
paint takes a sheet of paper, forms a clear mental image of the
writing or the
picture, distinct down to the minutest detail, and then by ah
effort of will
objectifies that image and throws it upon the paper, so that the
whole picture
or the whole sheet of writing appears instantaneously. It will be
seen at once
that this demands far greater power and fuller command of resources
than is
likely to be possessed by the ordinary man, either before or after
his death;
but just as those who have been trained along that line are capable
of producing
such a result while still in the physical body, so there are a few
among the
dead who have learnt how such powers may be exercised.
I have seen cases in which the writing was precipitated not all at
once but by
degrees, so that it appeared upon the paper in successive words,
just as it
would have done if written in the ordinary way, except that this
process was
much more rapid than any writing could ever be. In the same way I
have seen a
picture form itself slowly, beginning at one side and passing
steadily across to
the other, the effect being just as though a sheet of paper which
had concealed
it was slowly drawn off from an already existing picture.
Some persons in performing this feat require to have their
materials provided
for them; that is to say, if they have to write a letter, the
writing material —
ink or coloured chalk — must be by their side, or if they have to
precipitate a
picture the colours must be there either in powder or already
moistened. In this
case the operator simply disintegrates as much of the material as
he requires,
and transfers it to the surface of his paper. A more accomplished
performer,
however, can gather together such material as he needs from the
surrounding
ether; that is to say, he is practically able to create his
materials, and so
can sometimes produce results which cannot readily be imitated by
any means at
our disposal upon the physical plane.
In Photographing the Invisible (pp. 301-3), Dr. J. Coates quotes an
experience,
recounted by Vice-Admiral W. Usborne Moore, relating to the
precipitation of a
portrait, which presents a good example of the process often
employed:
.
The
next day a portrait was precipitated on to a Steinbach canvas
within two feet of
me. The Bangs sisters each held one side of the canvas, which was
put up against
the window, while I sat between them and watched the face and form
gradually
appear. A few minutes after they began to appear, the psychics
(apparently under
impression) lowered the canvas toward me until it touched my
breast. Mary Bangs
then got a message by Morse alphabet on the table: “Your wife is
more accustomed
to see me in the other aspect.” Up went the canvas again, and I saw
the profile
and bust, but turned round in the opposite direction; instead of
the face
looking to the right, it was looking to the left. The portrait then
proceeded
apace, until all the details were filled in, and in twenty-five
minutes it was
practically finished. Beyond a little deepening of the colour, and
touches here
and there by the invisible artist, the picture is the same now as
when we arose
from the table. The precipitated portrait is very much like a
photograph of the
person, taken thirty-five years ago (shortly before death), that I
had in my
pocket during the sitting, which the Bangs, of course, had never
seen. The
expression of the face, however, is far more ethereal and satisfied
than in the
photograph.
.
These instances are but two out of many manifestations I witnessed
at the Bangs
sisters’ house.
The Admiral refers as follows to a full-length portrait which he
obtained in the
same way:
.
On
this occasion the canvases arrived from the shop wet, and we had to
wait half an
hour for them to dry. The next day I went to the shop and
complained. The woman
who attended said: “The boy who brought your order said you wanted
stretched
canvases. When he came to take them away, we found he wanted the
paper as well,
so we put it on at once, and of course they left the shop wet.” I
relate this
little incident for the benefit of those who vainly imagine that
the phenomenon
of precipitation may be due to normal causes.
Mr. G. Subba Rau, editor of the West Coast Spectator, Calicut,
India, gives an
account (p. 317) of the manner in which he received a precipitated
portrait of
his deceased wife, her photograph being in his pocket without the
knowledge of
the mediums. Although somewhat incredulous as to the powers of the
Bangs
sisters, he arranged to have a sitting with them. He mentions that
the sisters
stated that they saw “apparently a life-size image of the
photograph I had with
me, and described it correctly in the details. For instance, they
saw that I
sat, that my wife stood behind, with her hand on my shoulder; that
her face was
round; that she wore a peculiar jewel on the nose and that her hair
was parted;
that a dog lay at my feet, and so on.” As to the precipitation of
the picture,
he adds (p. 318):
They asked me to pick out any two canvas stretchers that lay
against the wall,
adding that I might bring my own stretchers if I liked. I took out
two which
were very clean and set them on the table against the glass window.
I sat
opposite, and the two sisters on either side. Gradually I saw a
cloudy
appearance on the canvas; in a few moments it cleared into a bright
face, the
eyes formed themselves and opened rather suddenly, and I beheld
what seemed a
copy of my wife’s face in the photograph. The figure on the canvas
faded away
once or twice, to reappear with clearer outline; and round the
shoulder was
formed a loose white robe. The whole seemed a remarkable enlargement
of the
face in the photograph. The photograph had been taken some three or
four years
before her death, and it was noteworthy that the merely accidental
details that
entered into it should now appear on the canvas. For instance, the
nose ornament
already referred to, she had not usually worn. Some ornaments were
clumsily
reproduced. One that she had always worn, which was not distinctly
visible in
the photograph, was omitted on the canvas. I pointed out these
blemishes, and as
the result, when I saw the portrait next day, all the ornaments had
disappeared.
I was satisfied that the portrait had been precipitated by some
supernormal
agency. As soon as the portrait was finished, I touched a corner of
the canvas
with my finger, and greyish substance came off. The portrait is
still in my
possession, and it looks as fresh as ever. It was all done in
twenty-five
minutes.
The same volume contains several chapters dealing with psychographs,
especially
written messages impressed on photographic plates which have never
been exposed.
For example, the Ven. Archdeacon Colley, Rector of Stockton,
delivered an Easter
sermon on Sunday evening, 3rd April, 1910, in the parish church.
This sermon was
found written on a half-plate which had been sealed up in a
light-proof packet,
and held between the hands of six persons for thirty-nine seconds
only. Under
these circumstances 1710 words were written in eighty-four lines
within the
small compass of the half-plate. The Archdeacon says (p. 378):
The smallness of the copper-plate-like writing readers it
impossible to be
reproduced by any engraving; while at times, with our greatly
esteemed unpaid
mediums in various circles, the writing on our usual quarter-plates
is so
microscopic, that to enable us to read it a higher power lens is
necessary; and
the character of the calligraphy in English, archaic Greek, Latin,
Hebrew,
Italian, French, Arabic, varies continually in our several
separate, devotional,
and private gatherings, in places from twenty-four to seventy-seven
miles apart.
Proofs of the Truth of Spiritualism, by the Rev. Prof. G. Henslow,
also contains
illustrations and descriptions of many remarkable psychographs (pp.
187 et seq.)
The next point for our consideration is the question of what are
called “spirit
lights,” that is to say the different varieties of illumination
which are
produced at a seance by the non-physical participators therein. Sir
William
Crookes gives a comprehensive catalogue of these on p. 91 of his
book before
quoted:
various kinds of lights
.
Under the strictest test conditions I have seen a solid
self-luminous body, the
size and nearly the shape of a turkey’s egg, float noiselessly
about the room,
at one time higher than any one present could reach standing on
tip-toe, and
then gently descend to the floor. It was visible for more than ten
minutes; and
before it faded away it struck the table three times, with a sound
like that of
a hard solid body. During this time the medium was lying back,
apparently
insensible, in an easy chair.
. I
have seen luminous points of light darting about and settling on
the heads of
different persons; I have had questions answered by the flashing of
a bright
light a desired number of times in front of my face. I have seen
sparks of light
rising from the table to the ceiling, and again falling upon the
table, striking
it with an audible sound. I have had an alphabetic communication
given by a
luminous cloud floating upwards to a picture. Under the strictest
test
conditions, I have more than once had a solid, self-luminous,
crystalline body
placed in my hand by a hand which did not belong to any person in
the room. In
the light, I have seen a luminous cloud hover over a heliotrope on
a side-table,
break a sprig off, and carry the sprig to a lady; and on some
occasions I have
seen a similar luminous cloud visibly condense to the form of a
hand, and carry
small objects about.
I have already described the three varieties of lights which showed
themselves
to me during my preliminary home experiments without a recognized
medium; and
though I have seen many such lights since, they have been almost
all of the same
general character as those. On several occasions, however, I have
seen a light
much brighter than any of those, apparently of an electrical
character, capable
of fully lighting up the room, and in one case of blinding
brilliance. This
latter manifestation is rare at a seance, as, for reasons
previously described,
it would break up any partial materializations which might be
necessary for the
production of other phenomena.
Another interesting power at the command of experimenters on the
astral plane is
that of disintegration and of reintegration, to which we have
already referred
when speaking of precipitation. This is simply the process of
reducing any
object to an impalpable powder — in fact, into an etheric or even
atomic
condition. This may be brought about by the action of extremely
rapid vibration,
which overcomes the cohesion of the molecules of the object. A
still higher rate
of vibration, perhaps of a somewhat different type, will further
separate these
molecules into their constituent atoms. A body thus reduced to the
etheric or
atomic condition can be moved with great rapidity from one place to
another; and
the moment that the force which had been exerted to bring it into
that condition
is withdrawn, it will at once resume its original state.
How foRm Is retained
To answer an obvious objection which will at once occur to the mind
of the
reader I may be allowed to quote once more a few sentences from The
Astral
Plane.
Students often at first find it difficult to understand how in such
an
experiment the shape of the article can be preserved. It has been
remarked that
if any metallic object — say, for example, a key — be melted and
raised to a
vaporous state by heat, when the heat is withdrawn it will
certainly return to
the solid state, but it will no longer be a key, but merely a lump
of metal. The
point is well taken, though as a matter of fact the apparent
analogy does not
hold good. The elemental essence which informs the key would be
dissipated by
the alteration in its condition — not that the essence itself can
be affected by
the action of heat, but that when its temporary body is destroyed
(as a solid)
it pours back into the great reservoir of such essence, much as the
higher
principles of a man, though entirely unaffected by heat or cold,
are yet forced
out of a physical body when it is destroyed by fire.
Consequently, when what had been the key cooled down into the solid
condition
again, the elemental essence (of the “earth” or solid class) which
poured back
into it would not be in any way the same as that which it contained
before, and
there would be no reason why the same shape should be retained. But
a man who
disintegrated a key for the purpose of removing it by astral
currents from one
place to another would be careful to hold the same elemental
essence in exactly
the same shape until the transfer was completed, and then when his
will-force
was removed it would act as a mould into which the solidifying
particles would
now, or rather round which they would be re-aggregated. Thus,
unless the
operator’s power of concentration failed, the shape would be
accurately
preserved.
It is in this way that objects are sometimes brought almost
instantaneously from
great distances at spiritualistic seances, and it is obvious that
when
disintegrated they could be passed with perfect ease through any
solid
substance, such, for example, as the wall of a house or the side
of a locked
box, so that what is commonly called “the passage of matter through
matter” is
seen, when properly understood, to be as simple as the passage of
water through
a sieve, or of a gas through a liquid in some chemical experiment.
.
Since it is possible by an alteration of vibrations to change
matter from the
solid to the etheric condition, it will be comprehended that it is
also possible
to reverse the process and to bring etheric matter into the solid
state. As the
one process explains the phenomenon of disintegration, so does the
other that of
materialization; and just as in the former case a continued effort
of will is
necessary to prevent the object from resuming its original state,
so in exactly
the same way in the latter phenomenon a continued effort is
necessary to prevent
the materialized matter from relapsing into the etheric condition.
OBJECTS BROUGHT FROM A DISTANCE
The apport of objects from some other room, or sometimes from a far
greater
distance, is one of the most favourite methods by which the dead
men managing a
seance elect to manifest their especially astral powers. Sir
William Crookes, on
p. 97 of the book which I have so often quoted, tells us how at a
seance with
Miss Kate Fox the controlling entities announced that “they were
going to bring
something to show their power,” and then brought into the room a
small hand-bell
from the library, the door between being carefully locked, and the
key in Sir
William’s pocket.
I have myself frequently had all sorts of small objects brought to
me from a
distance — flowers and fruit being among the most common. In some
cases tropical
flowers and fruit, obviously perfectly fresh, have been thus
presented to me in
England. When interrogated as to whence these things came, the
controlling
entities have always most emphatically asserted that they were not
permitted to
steal any person’s property in this way, but had to search for
their flowers and
fruits where they grew wild. I have had a rare fern and a rare
orchid brought to
me in this way — thrown down upon the table with the fresh earth
still clinging
to their roots. I was able to plant both of them afterwards in my
garden, where
they took root and grew in the most natural manner.
The best stories that I know of the bringing of plants to a seance
are contained
in Madame d’Espérance’s book Shadowland. The first is quoted from
p. . (It
should be premised that “Yolande” is the name given to a
materialized “spirit”
who took a prominent part in all the seances of Madame
d’Espérance.)
.
Yolande crossed the room to where Mr. Reimers (a gentleman well
known throughout
Europe as a prominent spiritualist) sat, and beckoned him to go
nearer the
cabinet and witness some preparations she was about to make. Here
it is as well
to say that on previous occasions when Yolande had produced flowers
for us, she
had given us to understand that sand and water were necessary for
the purpose;
consequently a supply of fine clean white sand and plenty of water
were kept in
readiness for possible contingencies. When Yolande, accompanied by
Mr. Reimers,
came to the centre of the circle, she signified her wish for sand
and water,
and, making Mr. R. kneel down on the floor beside her, she directed
him to pour
sand into the water-carafe, which he did until it was about half
full. Then he
was instructed to pour in water. This was done, and then by her
direction he
shook it well and handed it back to her.
Yolande, after scrutinizing it carefully, placed it on the floor,
covering it
lightly with the drapery which she took from her shoulders. She
then retired to
the cabinet, from which she returned once or twice at short
intervals, as though
to see how it was getting on.
In the meantime Mr. Armstrong had carried away, the superfluous
water and sand,
leaving the carafe standing in the middle of the floor covered by
the thin veil,
which, however, did not in the least conceal its shape, the ring or
top edge
being especially visible.
We were directed by raps on the floor to sing, in order to
harmonize our
thoughts, and to take off the edge, as it were, of the curiosity we
were all
more or less feeling.
While we were singing we observed the drapery to be rising from the
rim of the
carafe. This was perfectly patent to every one of the twenty
witnesses watching
it closely.
Yolande came out again from the cabinet and regarded it anxiously.
She appeared
to examine it carefully, and partially supported the drapery as
though afraid of
its crushing some tender object underneath. Finally she raised it
altogether,
exposing to our astonished gaze a perfect plant, of what appeared
to be a kind
of laurel.
Yolande raised the carafe, in which the plant seemed to have firmly
grown; its
roots, visible through the glass being closely packed in the sand.
She regarded it with evident pride and pleasure, and, carrying it
in both her
hands, crossed the room and presented it to Mr. Oxley, one of the
strangers who
were present — the Mr. Oxley who is so well known by his
philosophical writings
on spiritual subjects, and the pyramids of Egypt.
He received the carafe with the plant, and Yolande retired as
though she had
completed her task. After examining the plant Mr. Oxley, for
convenience sake,
placed it on the floor beside him, there being no table near at
hand. Many
questions were asked and curiosity ran high. The plant resembled a
large-leafed
laurel with dark glossy leaves, but without any blossom. No one
present
recognized the plant or could assign it to any known species.
We were called to order by raps, and were told not to discuss the
matter, but to
sing something and then be quiet. We obeyed the command, and after
singing, more
raps told us to examine the plant anew, which we were delighted to
do. To our
great surprise we then observed that a large circular head of
bloom, forming a
flower fully five inches in diameter, had opened itself, while
standing on the
floor at Mr. Oxley’s feet.
The flower was of a beautiful orange-pink colour, or perhaps I
might say that
salmon-colour would be a nearer description, for I have never seen
the same
tints, and it is difficult to describe shades of colour in words.
The head was composed of some hundred and fifty four-star corollas
projecting
considerably from the stem. The plant was twenty-two inches in
height, having a
thick woody stem which filled the neck of the water-carafe. It had
twenty-nine
leaves, averaging from two to two and a half inches in breadth, and
seven and a
half inches at their greatest length. Each leaf was smooth and
glossy,
resembling at the first glance the laurel which we had first
supposed it to be.
The fibrous roots appeared to be growing naturally in the sand.
.
We
afterwards photographed the plant in the water-bottle, from which,
by the way,
it was found impossible to remove it, the neck being much too small
to allow the
roots to pass; indeed, the comparatively slender stem entirely
filled the
orifice.
The name, we learnt, was Ixora Crocata, and the plant a native of
India.
How did the plant come there? Did it grow in the bottle? Had it
been brought
from India in a dematerialized state and rematerialized in the
seance-room?
These were questions which we put to one another without result. We
received no
satisfactory explanation. Yolande either could not or would not
tell us. As far
as we could judge — and the opinion of a professional gardener
corroborated our
own — the plant had evidently some years of growth.
We could see where other leaves had grown and fallen off, and
wound-marks which
seemed to have healed and grown over long ago. But there was every
evidence to
show that the plant had grown in the sand in the bottle, as the
roots were
naturally wound around the inner surface of the glass, all the
fibres perfect
and unbroken as though they had germinated on the spot and had
apparently never
been disturbed. It had not been thrust into the bottle, for the
simple reason
that it was impossible to pass the large fibrous roots and lower
part of the
stem through the neck of the bottle, which had to be broken to take
out the
plant.
Mr. Oxley, in his account, which was afterwards published, says:
I had the plant photographed next morning, and afterwards brought
it home and
placed it in my conservatory under the gardener’s care. It lived
for three
months, when it shrivelled up. I kept the leaves, giving most of
them away
except the flower and the three top-leaves which the gardener cut
off when he
took charge of the plant; these I have yet preserved under glass,
but they show
no signs of dematerializing as yet. Previous to the creation or
materialization
of this wonderful plant, the Ixora Crocata, Yolande brought me a
rose with a
short stem not more than an inch long, which I put into my bosom.
Feeling
something was transpiring, I drew it out and found there were two
roses. I then
replaced them, and withdrawing them at the conclusion of the
meeting, to my
astonishment the stem had elongated to seven inches, with three
full-blown roses
and a bud upon it, with several thorns. These I brought home and
kept till they
faded, the leaves dropped off and the stem dried up, a proof of
their
materiality and actuality.
We gather from further statements that this interesting present was
made to Mr.
Oxley in fulfilment of a promise, for it seems that he was making a
collection
of plants in order to demonstrate some theory, for which he needed
a specimen of
this particular kind, but had been unable to obtain it by any ordinary
method.
The remarkable point about the arrival of this plant is its gradual
appearance.
It is not brought as a whole and thrown down upon the table, as my
fern was, but
it is seen to be slowly increasing under the drapery, precisely as
though it
were really growing at a most abnormal rate; and even after it has
been
presented to Mr. Oxley it still continues this apparent growth, for
it develops
a flower during the singing.
It seems, however, evident that this apparent growth is not really
anything of
the kind, since the plant is seen on examination to be clearly
several years
old; so we are driven to the conclusion that the plant was, as it
were, brought
over in sections and built up gradually. If a living plant can be
dematerialized
and put together again without damaging it permanently, it may just
as easily be
taken to pieces bit by bit as pulverized at one blow by a mightier
effort of
will; indeed, one can see that the former might be the simpler
process,
demanding less expenditure of force. It may quite conceivably not
have been
within the power of those who were assisting Yolande to bring the
entire
vegetable at one fell swoop, and it may therefore have been absolutely
necessary
to make several journeys for it. It would appear that they first
arranged the
roots in the sand, disposing them with care exactly as they had
naturally grown,
and then gradually added the rest of the plant, bringing the flower
over later
with dramatic effect as the crowning glory of the experiment.
It may be that the apparently rapid growth of the mango-tree in the
celebrated
Indian feat of magic is managed in this same manner, by successive
acts of
disintegration and reintegration, instead of by enormously
hastening the
ordinary processes of development, as is usually suggested.
Clearly, as the
author remarks, it could not have been thrust into the bottle, but
particle by
particle had been carefully arranged in the proper place among the
damp sand.
The operation must have been difficult and delicate, and we can
hardly wonder
that Yolande regarded the eventual result with considerable pride.
Mr. Oxley seems to have regarded the plant as a temporary
materialization, and
expected that it would disappear in due course; but it is quite
evident that it
was definitely a case of apport, and that the gift was intended to
remain, as
indeed it did until its death — which, however, may quite possibly
have been
accelerated by its abrupt removal from warmer climes to the
inclement latitude
of England. The photograph taken of the plant in the bottle is
reproduced as one
of the illustrations in the book from which this account is
extracted. It seems
clear that the rose to which Mr. Oxley refers must also have been
brought
piecemeal in the same way, since it would obviously be impossible
for a cut
flower to grow in the way which he describes.
In the same book, at p. 326, we find an account of a still more
wonderful
achievement of the same nature on the part of Yolande. In this case
there is the
additional and interesting complication that the plant was only
borrowed, and
had to be returned.
Yolande, with the assistance of Mr. Aksakof, had mixed sand and
loam in the
flower-pot, and she had covered it with her veil, as she had done
in the case of
the water-bottle in England when the Ixora Crocata was grown.
.
The
white drapery was seen to rise slowly but steadily, widening out as
it grew
higher and higher. Yolande stood by and manipulated the
gossamer-like covering
till it reached a height far above her head, when she carefully
removed it,
disclosing a tall plant bowed with a mass of heavy blossom, which
emitted the
strong sweet scent of which I had complained.
Notes were taken of its size, and it was found to be seven feet in
length from
root to point, or about a foot and a half taller than myself. Even
when bent by
the weight of the eleven large blossoms it bore, it was taller than
I. The
flowers were very perfect, measuring eight inches in diameter; five
were fully
blown, three were just opening and three in bud, all without spot
or blemish,
and damp with dew. It was most lovely, but somehow the scent of
lilies since
that evening has always made me feel faint.
Yolande seemed very pleased with her success and told us that if we
wanted to
photograph the lily we were to do so, as she must take it away
again. She stood
beside it and Mr. Boutlerof photographed it and her twice.
The plant was a Lilium auratum, the golden-rayed lily of Japan, and
the date of
this very interesting seance was June 28, . The photographs
mentioned are
reproduced in the book, and show a fine specimen of the plant.
A curious feature of the account is that the materialized figure
Yolande became
anxious about the affair because, having apparently borrowed this
giant lily,
she found herself unable to return it at the proper time. The
available power
seems to have been exhausted in the effort of bringing it, so that
when she
tried to take it back again she failed. She appears to have been
much distressed
at her inability to keep her promise, and begged that every care
might be taken
of the plant. Her physical friends did all that they could for it,
but it seems
(and no wonder) to have languished somewhat. The weather, too,
proved
unfavourable for her purposes, and it was nearly a week before she
finally
succeeded in restoring it to its original owner, whoever he may
have been. One
would like to hear the other side of this story — the surprise and
regret at the
mysterious disappearance from somebody’s garden or conservatory of
so
magnificent a specimen, and their equal but much pleasanter astonishment
over
its inexplicable reappearance a week later, when probably all hope
of tracing
the thieves had been abandoned!
The question of the influence of weather on the production of
psychic phenomena
is one of considerable interest. It is evident that electrical
disturbances of
any sort present difficulties in the way of attempts at either
materialization
or disintegration, presumably for the same reason that bright light
renders them
almost impossible — the destructive effect of strong vibration. It
is quite
conceivable that while the air was full of strong electrical vibrations
Yolande
may have found it impossible safely to carry her disintegrated
vegetable matter
from one place to another, lest it should be so shaken up and
disarranged that
restoration to its original form might become difficult or
impracticable.
In many cases of the apport of objects from a distance the
fourth-dimensional
method is obviously easiest, though in these efforts of Yolande’s
it would seem
from the gradual growth of the plant that it was not employed. But
there are
many instances of which it offers the neatest and readiest explanation.
There
are nearly always several ways in which almost any phenomenon can
be produced,
and it is often not easy to determine merely from a written account
which of
them was actually employed in a given case.
Another instance either of the passage of matter through matter, or
of the
employment of fourth-dimensional power, is given when a solid iron
ring too
small to go over the hand is passed on to one’s wrist. This has
three times been
done to me, and in each case I had to trust to our dead friends for
its removal,
since it would have been quite impossible to get it off by any
physical means
except filing. I have also again and again had the back of a chair
hung over my
arm while I was grasping the hand of the medium. Once I watched
that process in
a moderately good light, and though the phenomenon was quickly
performed it yet
seemed to me that I saw part of the back of the chair fade into a
sort of mist
as it approached my arm. But in a moment it had passed round or
through my arm
and was again solid as ever.
A much rarer phenomenon at a seance, so far as my experience goes,
is that of
reduplication. When it does occur, this is produced simply by
forming a perfect
mental image of the object to be copied, and then gathering about
it the
necessary astral and physical matter. For this purpose it is
needful that every
particle, interior as well as exterior, of the object to be
duplicated should be
held accurately in view simultaneously, and consequently the
phenomenon is one
which requires considerable power of concentration to perform.
Persons unable to
extract the matter required directly from the surrounding ether
have sometimes
taken it from the material of the original article, which in this
case would be
correspondingly reduced in weight.
A fieRy test
Another striking but not very common feat displayed occasionally at
a seance is
that of handling fire unharmed. On one occasion at a seance in
London a
materialized form deliberately put his hand into the midst of a
brightly burning
fire, picked out a lump of red-hot coal nearly as large as a
tennis-ball, and
held it out to me, saying quickly: “Take it in your hand.”
I hesitated for a moment, perhaps not unnaturally, but an impatient
movement on
the part of the dead man decided me. I felt that he probably knew
what he was
about, that this was perhaps a unique opportunity, and that if it
burnt me I
could drop it before much harm was done. So I held out my hand and
the glowing
mass was promptly deposited in my palm. I can testify that I felt
not even the
slightest warmth from it, though when the dead man immediately took
a sheet of
paper from the mantelpiece and applied it to the coal, the paper
blazed up in a
moment. I held this lump of coal for a minute and a half, when, as
it was
rapidly growing dull, he motioned to me to throw it back into the
fire. Not the
slightest mark or redness remained upon my hand — nothing but a
little ash — nor
was there any smell of burning.
Now how was this done? I could not in the least understand at the
time, and
could get no intelligible theory out of the presiding entities. I
know now from
later occult studies that the thinnest layer of etheric substance
can be so
manipulated as to make it absolutely impervious to heat, and I
assume that
probably my hand was for the moment covered with such a layer,
since that is
perhaps the easiest way of producing the result. Be that as it may,
I can
certify that the event occurred exactly as described.
It is within the resources of the astral plane to produce fire as
well as to
counteract its effect. I have seen this done only once myself, and
then as a
special “test” to prove that spontaneous combustion was a
possibility, but from
the accounts given by Mr. Morell Theobald in Spirit Workers in the
Home Circle
it would appear that with him the phenomenon was quite ordinary.
The deceased
members of his household seem to have taken almost as great a part
in its work
as the living members did, and to light the family fires
spontaneously was one
of the least of their achievements. Their action in this respect
is said to
have been paralleled on several occasions in Scotland by the
brownies, a variety
of nature-spirits or fairies, but I have not at hand the
particulars of any case
for quotation.
the production of fire
My own experience in this line was at a seance in England. We were
directed by
raps to procure a large flat dish, place it in the middle of the
table and make
in it a little pile of shavings and of the fragments of a cigar
box. We obeyed,
and were then directed to turn out the lights and sing. We sat
solemnly round
the table holding hands and singing in total darkness for what
seemed at least
half an hour, though it may have been less than that in reality.
Towards the end
of that time a curious dull red glow showed itself in the heart of
our
loosely-built pile of wood, waxing and waning several times, but
eventually
bursting into flame. It is quite certain that none of us touched
the pile or
indeed could have touched it without the connivance of several
others, sitting
as we were; and it is also certain that the combustion commenced in
a manner
entirely precluding the idea of its being set in motion from
outside by a match.
I infer, since heat is after all simply a certain rate of
vibration, that it is
only necessary for the astral entities to set up and maintain that
particular
rate of vibration, and combustion must ensue; and this is most
probably what was
done. An obvious alternative would be to introduce
fourth-dimensionally a tiny
fragment of already glowing matter, (such as tinder, for example)
and then blow
upon it until it burst into flame; or again, chemical combinations
which would
produce combustion could easily be introduced. There are plenty of
stories told
in India about the way in which spontaneous fires break out in
certain villages
if the village deity is neglected, and does not receive his expected
offerings;
so it is evident that the production of fire presents no
difficulty to an
experienced entity functioning upon the astral plane.
-------Cardiff Theosophical Society in Wales-------
206 Newport Road, Cardiff, Wales, UK. CF24-1DL
.
Chapter IX
.
VISIBLE MATERIALIZATIONS
intangible forms
We must consider now materializations of our second and third types
— those
which are visible, but not tangible, and in many cases manifestly
diaphanous;
and the full materializations, which seem in all respects
indistinguishable for
the time from persons still in the physical body. The second type
is not
uncommon, and though such materializations usually avoid coming
within reach of
the sitters I was on one occasion especially asked by a direct
voice to pass my
hand gently through a form of this nature. I can only say that my
sense of touch
detected absolutely nothing, though a distinctly visible, but
semi-transparent
form stood in front of me, smiling at my futile efforts. When I
closed my eyes,
I could not tell whether my hand was inside or outside the body
which looked so
perfect and so living. Forms of this nature are probably easier to
construct
than the more solid kind, for I have once or twice had startling
evidence that
one which appeared entirely solid was in reality so only in part. A
hand which
is strong enough to give a vigorous grasp is often joined to an arm
which does
not exist as far as the sense of touch is concerned, though appearing
to the eye
just as solid as the hand. Materializations of this second type are
described by
Sir William Crookes as follows, at p. 94 of his Researches.
.
In
the dusk of the evening during a seance with Mr. Home at my house,
the curtains
of the window about eight feet from Mr. Home were seen to move. A
dark, shadowy,
semi-transparent form like that of a man was then seen by all
present standing
near the window, waving the curtain with his hand. As we looked the
form faded
away and the curtain ceased to move. The following is a still more
striking
instance. As in the former case Mr. Home was the medium. A phantom
form came
from a corner of the room, took an accordion in his hand, and then
glided about
the room placing the instrument. The form was visible to all
present for many
minutes, Mr. Home also being seen at the same time. Coming rather
close to a
lady who was sitting apart from the rest of the company, she gave a
slight cry,
upon which it vanished.
mattes from the medium
When materialization is performed for any reason by a living person
thoroughly
trained in the resources of the astral plane — one of the pupils of
an Adept,
for instance — he condenses the surrounding ether into the solid
form, and
builds in that way so much of a body as may be necessary without in
any way
interfering with any one else. But at a seance this is not usually done,
and the
simpler expedient is adopted of withdrawing a large amount of
matter from the
body of the medium. This matter may under favourable conditions be
seen pouring
out from his side in great wreaths of mist; in Mr. W. Eglinton’s
remarkable
book, ’Twixt Two Worlds, there will be found three interesting
illustrations
showing successive stages of the development of this mist, from its
first faint
appearance until the entranced medium is almost entirely hidden by
wreaths like
those of thick, heavy smoke.
This mist rapidly condenses into a form — sometimes apparently into
an exact
double of the medium in the first place. I remember at a seance
with the
well-known medium, Mr. Cecil Husk, after a period of silent
waiting, a brilliant
light suddenly blazed out, showing everything in the room quite
clearly. The
medium was crushed together in his chair — shrunk into himself in a
most
extraordinary way, apparently in a deep trance, and breathing
stertorously; but
just in front of him stood an exact duplicate of himself, alert and
living,
holding out in front of him in the palm of his hand an egg-shaped
body, which
was the source of the brilliant light. He stood thus for a few
moments, and then
in an instant the light went out, and the form addressed us in the
well-known
tones of one of the regular “guides” — showing how entirely he
built himself out
of the substance of the medium.
There is no sort of doubt that it is not only etheric matter which
is thus
temporarily withdrawn from the medium’s body, but also often dense
solid and
liquid matter, however difficult it may be for us to realize the
possibility of
such a transference. I have myself seen cases in which this
phenomenon
undoubtedly took place, and was evidenced by a considerable loss of
weight in
the medium’s physical body, and also by a most curious and ghastly
appearance of
having shrivelled up and shrunk together, so that his tiny
wizened-face was
disappearing into the collar of his coat as he sat. The “guides”
directing a
seance rarely allow their medium to be seen when he is in this
condition, and
wisely, for it is indeed a terrible and unwholesome sight, so
uncanny, so
utterly inhuman that it would inevitably seriously frighten any
nervous person.
In that manual of materializations, People from the Other World (p.
243),
Colonel Olcott describes the manner in which he carefully weighed
the
materialized form which called itself Honto. At his first attempt
this Red
Indian girl weighed eighty-eight pounds, but at the Colonel’s
request she
promptly reduced herself to fifty-eight pounds, and then again
increased to
sixty-five, all within ten minutes, and without changing her dress.
Nearly all
this mass of physical matter must have been withdrawn from the body
of the
medium, who must consequently have lost proportionately.
On p. 487 of the same book the Colonel tells us how he tested in
the same way
the materialized form of Katie Brink, who weighed at first seventy-seven
pounds,
and then reduced herself to fifty-nine and fifty-two, without
affecting her
outward appearance in any way. In this case we are confronted with
the
astonishing phenomenon of the total disappearance of the medium
during the
materialization, though the Colonel had secured her with sewing
cotton, sealed
with his own seal, in a peculiar and ingenious way which would
absolutely
prevent her from leaving her chair in any ordinary way without
breaking the
cotton. Nevertheless, when he was permitted during the seance to
enter the
cabinet, that chair was empty; and there was not only nothing to be
seen, but
also nothing to be felt, when he passed his hands all round the
chair. Yet when
the seance was over, the medium was found seated as before,
half-fainting and
utterly exhausted, but with cotton and seal intact! Most wonderful,
truly; yet
not unique; see Un Cas de Dématerialisation, by M. A. Aksakow.
This matter does not always flow out through the side only;
sometimes it appears
to ooze out from the whole surface of the body, drawn out by the
powerful
attraction or suction set up by the guides. Its flowing forth is
thus described
by Madame E. d’Espérance:
Then began a strange sensation, which I had sometimes felt at
séances.
Frequently I have heard it described by others as of cobwebs being
passed over
the face, but to me, who watched it curiously, it seemed that I
could feel fine
threads being drawn out of the pores of my skin. Shadowland (p.
229).
madame d’espérance
.
Many mediums have written autobiographies, but I have met with none
which
impressed me so favourably as this of Madame d’Espérance. It is not
only that it
has about it an attractive ring of earnestness and truthfulness,
but that the
author seems far more closely and intelligently observant than most
mediums have
been, and more anxious to understand the real nature of the
phenomena which
occur in her presence.
She takes a rational view of her abnormal faculty, and sets herself
to study it
with an earnest and loyal desire to arrive at the truth about it
all. While
heartily admiring the lady’s courage and determination, one cannot
but regret
that it did not fall in her way to study Theosophical literature,
which would
have told her in the beginning every detail that she has slowly and
in many
cases painfully discovered, at the cost of much unnecessary
suffering and
anxiety. Her book begins with the pathetic story of a
much-misunderstood
childhood, and goes on to describe the years of mental struggle
during which the
medium slowly freed herself from the trammels of the narrowest
orthodoxy. When
her mediumship was fully developed it certainly seems to have been
of a
wonderful and varied character, and some of the instances given
might well
appear incredible to any one ignorant of the subject. I have
myself, however,
seen phenomena of the same nature as all those which she describes,
and
consequently I find no difficulty in admitting the possibility of
all the
strange occurrences which she relates.
She realizes strongly and describes forcefully the exceedingly
intimate relation
which exists between the medium and the body materialized out of
his vehicles.
We are so entirely accustomed to identify ourselves with our bodies
that it is a
new and uncanny and almost a horrible sensation to find the body
going through
vivid and extraordinary experiences in which nevertheless its true
owner has no
part whatever. On p. 345 of her book above quoted she gives us a
realistic
description of the strangely unnatural situation in which a
materializing medium
must so often be placed; and I think that no one can read it
without
understanding how thoroughly undesirable, how utterly unhealthy on
all planes
and from all points of view such an experience must be.
“anna oR I?”
.
Now
comes another figure, shorter, slenderer, and with outstretched
arms. Somebody
rises up at the far end of the circle and comes forward, and the
two are clasped
in each other’s arms. Then inarticulate cries of “Anna! O Anna! My child! My
loved one!”
Then somebody else gets up and puts her arms round the figure; then
sobs, cries,
and blessings get mixed up. I feel my body swayed to and fro, and
all gets dark
before my eyes. I feel somebody’s arms around me, although I sit on
my chair
alone. I feel somebody’s heart beating against my breast. I feel
that something
is happening. No one is near me except the two children. No one is
taking any
notice of me. All eyes and thoughts seem concentrated on the white
slender
figure standing there with the arms of the two black-robed women
around it.
It must be my own heart I feel beating so distinctly. Yet those
arms round me?
Surely never did I feel a touch so plainly. I begin to wonder which
is I. Am I
the white figure, or am I that on the chair? Are they my hands
round the old
lady’s neck, or are these mine that are lying on the knees of me,
or on the
knees of the figure, if it be not I, on the chair?
Certainly they are my lips that are being kissed. It is my face
that is wet with
the tears which these good women are shedding so plentifully. Yet
how can it be?
It is a horrible feeling, thus losing hold of one’s identity. I
long to put out
one of these hands that are lying so helplessly, and touch some
one just to
know if I am myself or only a dream — if “Anna” be I, and I am lost, as it
were, in her identity.
I feel the old Lady’s trembling arms, the kisses, the tears, the
blessings and
caresses of the sister, and I wonder in the agony of suspense and
bewilderment,
how long can it last? How long will there be two of us? Which will
it be in the
end? Shall I be “Anna” or “Anna” be I?
Then I feel two little hands slip themselves into my nerveless
hands, and they
give me a fresh hold of myself, as it were, and with a feeling of
exultation I
find I am myself, and that little Jonte, tired of being hidden
behind the three
figures, feels lonely and grasps my hands for company and comfort.
How glad I am of the touch, even from the hand of a child! My
doubts as to who I
am are gone. While I am feeling thus the white figure of “Anna”
disappears in
the cabinet, and the two ladies return to their seats, excited and
tearful, but
overcome with happiness.
.
There was a great deal more to happen that night, but somehow I
felt weak and
indifferent to all around me, and not inclined to be interested in
what
occurred. Strange and remarkable incidents took place, but for the
moment my
life seemed dragged out of me and I longed for solitude and rest.
This feeling of lassitude and of having the life dragged out of
them is
naturally terribly common among mediums. Sir William Crookes
remarks on p. 41 of
his Researches:
.
After witnessing the painful state of nervous and bodily
prostration in which
some of these experiments have left Mr. Home — after seeing him
lying in an
almost fainting condition on the floor, pale and speechless — I
could scarcely
doubt that the evolution of psychic force is accompanied by a
corresponding
drain on vital force.
This entirely agrees with my own experience; I have frequently seen
a medium
absolutely prostrate after a seance, and I fear that many of them
fancy
themselves compelled to resort to alcoholic stimulants in order to
recover from
the terrible drain upon their strength. So much of their vitality
necessarily
goes into the materialized form, and the disturbance to the system
is so
serious, that after the seance is over, they are in a condition
closely
resembling the shock which follows a surgical operation. And no
wonder; for that
would indeed be a terrible surgical operation which removed forty
to eighty
pounds of matter from the body, and then restored it again.
On the curious connection between the medium and the materialized
form, Madame
d’Espérance writes as follows as to the relation between herself
and Yolande:
an intimate Relation
There seemed to exist a strange link between us. I could do nothing
to ensure
her appearance amongst us. She came and went, so far as I am aware,
entirely
independent of my will, but when she had come, she was, I found,
dependent on
me for her brief material existence. I seemed to lose, not my
individuality, but
my strength and power of exertion, and though I did not then know
it, a great
portion of my material substance. I felt that in some way I was
changed, but the
effort to think logically in some mysterious way affected Yolande,
and made her
weak. (Shadowland, p. .)
The medium is conscious of her own individuality in the background
all the time;
but any attempt to assert it, or to think connectedly, immediately
weakens the
form, or brings it back to the cabinet. And this is natural, for to
think
logically means to set up chemical action — to produce oxidation of
the
phosphorus of the brain; whereas it is only under conditions of
perfect
passivity in the physical vehicle that so much matter can be spared
from it
without danger to life. As a matter of fact, there is always a
possibility of
such danger; and in case of sudden shock or disturbance it may come
terribly
near realization. It is for that reason that the attempt of the
ignorant and
boastful sceptic to seize the “spirit form” is so criminal as well
as so
brainless an action; and the person whose colossal stupidity leads
him to commit
such an atrocity runs a serious risk of occupying the position of
defendant in a
trial for murder. Beings at that level of intelligence ought not to
be permitted
to take part in experiments of a delicate nature. What harm may be
done by this
dangerous variety of the genus blockhead is shown by the following
extract from
the experiences of Madame d’Espérance, given upon p. 298 of her
book:
A scandalous outrage
.
I
do not know how long the seance had proceeded, but I knew that
Yolande had taken
her pitcher on her shoulder and was outside the cabinet. What
actually occurred
I had to learn afterwards. All I knew was a horrible excruciating
sensation of
being doubled up and squeezed together, as I can imagine a hollow
guttapercha
doll would feel, if it had sensation, when violently embraced by
its baby owner.
A sense of terror and agonizing pain came over me, as though I were
losing hold
of life and was falling into some fearful abyss, yet knowing
nothing, seeing
nothing, hearing nothing, except the echo of a scream which I heard
as at a
distance. I felt I was sinking down, I knew not where. I tried to
save myself,
to grasp at something, but missed it; and then came a blank from
which I
awakened with a shuddering horror and sense of being bruised to death.
My senses seemed to have been scattered to the winds, and only
little by little
could I gather them sufficiently together to understand in a slight
degree what
had happened. Yolande had been seized, and the man who had seized
her declared
it was I.
This is what I was told. The statement was so extraordinary that
if it had not
been for my utter prostration I could have laughed, but I was
unable to think or
even move. I felt as though very little life remained in me, and
that little was
a torment. The haemorrhage of the lungs, which my residence in the
south of
France had apparently cured, broke out again and the blood almost
suffocated me.
A severe prolonged illness was the result; and our departure from
England was
delayed for some weeks, as I could not be moved.
No wonder that the “guides” take every precaution in their power
to save their
medium from such brutality. Even they themselves may suffer through
the
temporary vehicle which they have assumed, trusting themselves to the
honour and
good-feeling of those who are present on the physical plane. Mr. R.
D. Owen, in
The Debatable Land (p. 273), thus refers to this matter:
.
Two
highly intelligent friends of mine, now deceased, Dr. A. D. Wilson
and Professor
James Mapes, both formerly of New York, each on one occasion firmly
grasped what
seemed a luminous hand. In both cases the result was the same. What
was laid
hold of melted entirely away — so each told me — in his grasp. I
have had
communications to the effect that the spirit thus manifesting its
presence
suffers when this is done, and that a spirit would have great
reluctance in
appearing, in bodily form, to any one whom it could not trust to refrain
from
interference with the phenomena, except by its express permission.
In my
experiments I have always governed myself accordingly, and I
ascribe my success
in part to this continence.
I do not know whether the “spirit” would suffer in such a case as
this, though
it certainly does when a materialized form is struck or wounded.
For that reason
a sword constantly waved round a man who is haunted is supposed to
be a
protection (and indeed often really is so, as has been seen in some
of the
narratives previously quoted), and the sword was also an important
part of the
outfit of the mediaeval magician.
No physical weapon could affect the astral body in the slightest
degree; a sword
might be passed through it again and again without the owner being
even aware of
it; but as soon as there is any materialization (and wherever
physical phenomena
occur there must be some materialization, however little) physical
weapons may
act through it upon the astral body and produce sensation, much as
was the case
with the more permanent physical body during life. But undoubtedly
the medium
may be seriously injured by any unauthorized interference with the
materialized
form, as is seen by Madame d’Espérance’s story.
I most heartily endorse the sentiments expressed above by Mr. Owen,
and I have
always been governed by them in my own investigations. There are
some persons
who enter upon an enquiry of this kind with the fixed conviction
that they are
going to be deceived, and (with some idea that they can obviate a
result so
humbling to their self-conceit) they endeavour to invent all kinds
of
complicated contrivances, which they think will render fraud
impossible. It is
quite true that in many cases phenomena do not take place under the
conditions
which they prescribe, for naturally the dead man is not especially
disposed to
go out of his way to take a great deal of trouble for a person who
meets him
from the beginning with unfounded suspicion expressed in terms of
egregious
self-confidence. Often also the conditions prescribed by the
ignoramus are
really such as to render phenomena impossible.
Dr. Alfred R. Wallace once very truly remarked:
.
Scientific men almost invariably assume that, in this enquiry, they
should be
permitted at the very outset to impose conditions; and if under
such conditions
nothing happens, they consider it a proof of imposture or delusion.
But they
well know that in all other branches of research, Nature, not they,
determines
the essential conditions without a compliance with which no
experiment will
succeed. These conditions have to be learnt by a patient
questioning of Nature,
and they are different for each branch of science. How much more
may they be
expected to differ in an enquiry which deals with subtle forces, of
the nature
of which the physicist is wholly and absolutely ignorant!
In just the same way, a man might easily render electrical
experiments
impossible, if he chose to regard the insulating arrangements as
suspicious, and
insisted upon seeing the same results produced when the wires were
uninsulated;
and then, when it was gently explained to him that insulation was a
necessary
condition, he might raise the same old parrot-cry of fraud, and
declare that
these pretended electrical marvels could never be worked under his
conditions!
Instances of the extent to which folly and cruelty can go in this
direction are
given with full illustrations in Colonel Olcott’s People from the
Other World
(pp. 36-40).
.
I
have myself always adopted the plan of giving the dead man credit
for honest
intention until I saw evidence to the contrary; I have allowed him
to arrange
his own conditions, and to show exactly what he chose, endeavouring
first of all
to establish friendly relations; and I have invariably found that
as soon as he
gained confidence in me, be would gladly describe the limits of his
power, so
far as he knew them, and would frequently himself suggest tests of
various kinds
to show to others the genuineness of the phenomena.
Attempts have been made to cheat me on several occasions; and when
I saw this to
be the action of the medium, I held my peace, but troubled that
medium no
further. On the other hand, I have also seen cases of deceit where
I felt
convinced that the medium’s intentions were perfectly honest, and
that the
deception lay entirely with the unseen actors in the drama. I have
known the
medium’s physical body, when in a condition of trance, to be
wrapped up in
materialized gauzy drapery, and passed off as “a spirit form” —
apparently for
no other reason than to save the operators the trouble of producing
a genuine
materialization, or possibly because in some way or other the power
to produce
the real manifestation was lacking. In this case the medium, on
hearing what had
happened after recovery from his trance, protested most earnestly
and with every
appearance of real sincerity that he had had no conception of what
was being
done; and, having many times before seen unmistakably genuine
manifestations
through him, I believed him. Exactly the same story was told to me
by a
well-known medium with regard to an “exposure” of him which was
triumphantly
trumpeted abroad in many newspapers; and it is at least perfectly
possible that
the statement may have been equally true in that case also. My
experience
therefore warrants me in saying that even when a clear case of
fraud is
discovered, it is not always safe to blame the medium for it. On
the other hand,
I have known a medium come to give a seance with half-a-yard of
muslin hanging
out of her pocket, and I have recognized the aforesaid muslin
appearing as
spirit drapery at a later stage of the proceedings — in its
original form, I
mean, for even in cases of genuine materialization of drapery it is
frequently
formed from the material of the clothes of the medium. Once more we
may turn to
Madame d’Espérance for an instance showing this to be the case.
“spiRit” drapery
It was at one of those seances in Christiania that a sitter
“abstracted” a piece
of drapery which clothed one of the spirit-forms. Later I
discovered that a
large square piece of material was missing from my skirt, partly
cut, partly
torn out. My dress was of a heavy dark woollen material. The
“abstracted” piece
of drapery was found to be of the same shape as that missing from
my skirt, but
several times larger, and white in colour, the texture fine and
thin as
gossamer.
Something of the kind had happened once before in England, when
some one had
begged the little Ninia for a piece of her abundant clothing. She
complied,
unwillingly, it seemed, and the reason for her unwillingness was explained
when, after the seance, I found a hole in a new dress which I had
put on for the
first time. This being nearly black, I had attributed the mishap
more to an
accident on the part of Ninia than to any psychological cause. Now
that it
happened a second time, I began to understand that it was no
accident, and that
my dress, or the clothing of the persons in the seance, was the
foundation of,
or the stores from which the dazzling raiment of the spirit form
was drawn.
(Shadowland, p. .)
There are various types of this materialized drapery — some quite
coarse and
some exceedingly fine — finer indeed than even the production of
Eastern looms.
Sometimes the manifesting entity will encourage a favoured sitter
to feel this
drapery or even to cut a piece from it. I have had such pieces
given to me on
several occasions; some of them lasted for years, and appear to be
permanent,
while others faded away in the course of an hour or so, and one
within ten
minutes. Though light and filmy white drapery seems to be the
regular fashion
among materialized forms, I have also seen them show themselves in
the ordinary
garb of civilization, and sometimes in a uniform or some special
dress
characteristic of their position during life.
materialization in full view
The following very good account of the materialization and
dematerialization of
a form is given in Shadowland (p. 254), and was written by a member
who had
frequently formed part of that circle:
.
First a filmy, cloudy patch of something white is observed on the
floor in front
of the cabinet. It then gradually expands, visibly extending itself
as if it
were an animated patch of muslin, lying fold upon fold, on the
floor, until
extending about two and a half by three feet and having a depth of
a few inches
— perhaps six or more. Presently it begins to rise slowly in or
near the centre,
as if a human head were underneath it, while the cloudy film on the
floor begins
to look more like muslin falling into folds about the portion so
mysteriously
rising. By the time it has attained two or more feet, it looks as
if a child
were under it and moving its arms about in all directions as if
manipulating
something underneath.
It continues rising, oftentimes sinking somewhat to rise again
higher than
before, until it attains a height of about five feet, when its form
can be seen
as if arranging the folds of drapery about its figure.
Presently the arms rise considerably above the head and open
outwards through a
mass of cloud-like spirit drapery, and Yolande stands before us
unveiled,
graceful and beautiful, nearly five feet in height, having a
turban-like head
dress, from beneath which her long black hair hangs over her
shoulders and down
her back.
Her body-dress, of Eastern form, displays every limb and contour of
the body,
while the superfluous white veil-like drapery is wrapped round her
for
convenience, or thrown down on the carpet out of the way till
required again.
All this occupies from ten to fifteen minutes to accomplish.
When she disappears or dematerializes it is as follows. Stepping
forward to show
herself and be identified by any strangers then present, she slowly
and
deliberately opens out the veil-like superfluous drapery; expanding
it, she
places it over her head, and spreads it round her like a great
bridal veil, and
then immediately but slowly sinks down, becoming less bulky as she
collapses,
dematerializing her body beneath the cloud-like drapery until it
has little or
no resemblance to Yolande. Then she further collapses until she has
no
resemblance to human form, and more rapidly sinks down to fifteen
or twelve
inches. Then suddenly the form falls into a heaped patch of drapery
— literally
Yolande’s left-off clothing, which slowly but visibly melts into
nothingness.
The dematerializing of Yolande’s body occupies from two to five
minutes, while
the disappearance of the drapery occupies from half a minute to two
minutes. On
one occasion, however, she did not dematerialize this drapery or
veil, but left
the whole lying on the carpet in a heap, until another spirit came
out of the
cabinet to look at it for a moment, as if moralizing on poor
Yolande’s
disappearance. This taller spirit also disappeared and was
replaced by the
little, brisk, vivacious child-form of Ninia, the Spanish girl, who
likewise
came to look at Yolande’s remains; and, curiously picking up the
loft-off
garments, proceeded to wrap them round her own little body, which
was already
well clothed with drapery.
I have myself seen both these processes, almost exactly as
described above. In
my case the form was that of an unusually tall man, and he did not
begin by
forming drapery, but appeared as a patch of cloudy light on the
floor, which
rose and increased until it looked somewhat like the stump of a
tree. It grew on
until it was a vague pillar of cloud towering above our heads, and
then
gradually condensed into a definite and well-known form, which
stepped forward,
shook me warmly by the hand, and spoke in a full clear voice,
exactly as any
other friend might have done. After talking to us for about five
minutes and
answering several questions, he again shook hands with us and
announced that he
must go. Bidding us good-bye, he immediately became indistinct in
outline, and
relapsed into the pillar of cloud, which sank down fairly rapidly
into the small
cloudy mass of light upon the floor, which then flickered and
vanished.
I have seen three materialized forms together — one of them an Arab
six inches
taller than the medium, another a European of ordinary medium
height, and the
third a little girl of dark complexion, claiming to be a Red Indian
— while the
medium was securely locked up inside a wire cage of his own
invention, which was
secured by two keys (both in my pocket) and a letter-lock which
could only be
operated from the outside. Later in the same evening we were
requested to unlock
this cage, and the two forms first described brought out the
entranced medium
between them, one supporting him by each arm. We were allowed to
touch both the
medium and the materialized forms, and were much struck to find the
latter
distinctly firmer and more definite than the former. They did not
in this case
return him to his cage, but laid him upon a sofa in full view of us
all,
cautioned us that he would be exceedingly exhausted when he woke,
and then
incontinently vanished into thin air before our eyes. All this took
place in a
dim light, the two gas-jets in the room being both turned very low,
but there
was all the time quite sufficient illumination to enable us to
recognize
clearly the features both of the medium and of our dead visitors,
and to follow
their movements with absolute certainty.
It is only when the conditions are favourable that one may hope to
find the
materialized forms able to move about the room as freely as in the
cases above
described. More generally the materialized form is strictly
confined to the
immediate neighbourhood of the medium, and is subject to an
attraction which is
constantly drawing it back to the body from which it came, so that
if kept away
from the medium too long the figure collapses, and the matter which
composed it,
returning to the etheric condition, rushes back instantly to its
source. It is
excessively dangerous to the medium’s health, or even to his life,
to prevent
this return in any way; and it was no doubt precisely this that
caused such
terrible suffering in the case of poor Madame d’Espérance, above
quoted. It
would seem from her own account as though the majority of her
etheric matter,
and probably a great deal of the denser also, was with Yolande
rather than in
the cabinet; and since the form of Yolande was so unwarrantably
detained it is
probable that what was left in her body would rush into Yolande’s,
and so it
would in one sense be true that she was found outside the cabinet
and in the
hands of the ignorant vulgarian who had seized the materialized
form. All this
makes it increasingly obvious that no one who has not sufficient
education to
comprehend a little of the conditions ought ever to be permitted to
take part in
a seance.
Another reason for great care in the selection of sitters is that
in the case of
materialization matter is borrowed to some extent from all of them
as well as
from the medium. There is no doubt, therefore, a considerable
intermixture of
such matter, and undesirable qualities or vices of any kind in any
one of the
sitters are distinctly liable to react upon the others, and most of
all upon the
medium, who is almost certain to be the most sensitive person
present — from
whom, in any case, the heaviest contribution will be drawn. Yet
again we may
obtain an example of this from Madame d’Espérance’s invaluable
book. On p. 307
she writes:
evil effect of tobacco
.
From the very beginning of our experiments in this line I had
always more or
less suffered from nausea and vomiting after a seance for
materialization, and I
had grown to accept this as a natural consequence and not to be
avoided. This
had always been the case, except when surrounded only by the
members of our
home circle or children. During the course of seances for
photography this
unpleasantness increased so much that I was usually prostrate for a
day, or
sometimes two, after a sitting, and, as the symptoms were those of
nicotine
poisoning, experiments were made and it was discovered that none of
these
uncomfortable sensations were felt when seances were held with
non-smokers.
Again, when sick persons were in the circle, I invariably found
myself feeling
more or less unwell afterwards. With persons accustomed to the use
of alcohol
the discomfort was almost as marked as with smokers.
.
These seances were to me fruitful in many respects; I learned that
many habits,
which are common to the generality of mankind and sanctioned by
custom, are
deleterious to the results of a seance, or, at any rate, to the
health of a
medium.
A “guide” who has been working for some years, and has learnt to
know fairly
well the possibilities of the plane, has often interesting
phenomena connected
with materialization which he is willing to exhibit to special
friends when the
power is strong. One such exhibition was sometimes given by him
who calls
himself “John King” many
years ago, and may perhaps be given by him still. He
would sometimes take one of the painted luminous slates and lay his
hand upon
it. A fine, strong, muscular, well-shaped hand it was, and its
outline of course
stood forth perfectly distinctly against the faintly luminous
background. Then
as we watched it, he would cause that hand to diminish visibly
until it was a
miniature about the size of a small baby's hand, though still
perfect in its
resemblance to his own. Then slowly and steadily under our eyes it
would grow
again until it became gigantic, and covered the whole slate, and
would finally
return by degrees to its normal size. Now of course this
manifestation might
easily have been a mere case of mesmeric influence if only one
person had seen
it; but since every one in the circle saw precisely the same, and
there was
nothing to indicate that any attempt at mesmerism was being made,
it seemed on
the whole more probable that it was really an exhibition of
augmentation and
diminution in the materialized hand — a result which could readily
be brought
about by any one who understood how to manipulate the matter.
A dead man’s joke
Occasionally the materialization takes some other shape than the
human. One such
case which I recollect vividly shows that our departed friends by
no means lose
their sense of humour when they pass over into astral life. At a
certain seance
we were much annoyed by the presence of a man of the boastful
sceptic genus. He
swaggered in the usual blatant way, and showed his entire
ignorance by every
word he uttered in the loud, coarse voice which constantly
reiterated that he
knew that all these things were nonsense, and that we might be sure
that nothing
would happen so long as he was there.
This went on for some time as we sat round the table, and at last
the medium,
who was a mild, inoffensive sort of man, quietly advised him to
moderate his
tone, as on several occasions the “spirits” had been known to treat
rather
roughly persons who talked in that manner. The sceptic, however,
only became
coarser and more offensive in his remarks, defying any spirit that
ever existed
to frighten him, or even to dare to show itself in his presence. We
had now been
sitting for a good while in the darkness, and nothing whatever had
happened
beyond a few brief words from one of the “guides” at the
commencement of the
seance, which had informed us that they were storing up power. As
the time
passed on we all became somewhat wearied, and I at least began to
think that
perhaps our sceptic really was so inharmonious an influence that it
would be
impossible to obtain any good results — wherein, however, it seems
that I was
wrong.
To make clear what did happen I must say a few words as to the room
in which the
seance was being held. It was a tiny apartment at the back of the
house on the
second floor, opening out of a much larger front room by great
folding-doors
which reached up to the ceiling. We were seated round a large
circular table, so
much out of proportion to the room that the backs of our chairs
were all but
touching the walls and the big door as we sat round it. There was
another door
in the corner of the room leading to a flight of stairs; that was
locked, the
key being in the lock on the inside, and the great doors were also
secured by a
bolt on our side. We sat, as I say, with practically no
manifestations for about
three-quarters of an hour, and I at least was heartily tired of the
whole thing.
Suddenly in the adjoining room we heard extraordinarily ponderous
footsteps, as
of some mighty giant; and even as we raised our heads to listen the
great doors
burst violently open, crashing into the backs of the chairs on that
side,
driving them and their occupants against the table, and so pushing
the table
itself against those on the opposite side. A pale, rather ghastly
luminosity
shone in through the opened door, and by its light we saw — we all
saw — an
enormous elephant stepping straight in upon us, dashing the chairs
together
with his stride! A gigantic elephant in a room of that size is not
exactly a
pleasant neighbour; nobody stopped to think of the impossibility of
the thing —
nobody waited to see what would happen next; the great beast was on
the top of
us, as it were, and the man nearest to the back door tore it open,
and before we
had time for a second thought we were all rushing madly down those
stairs.
A roar of Homeric laughter followed us, and in a moment we realized
the
absurdity of the situation, and some of us ran back, and struck a
light. No one
was there, and both the rooms were empty; there was no way out of
either of them
but the doors which opened side by side upon the head of the stair,
which had
been within our sight all the time; there was no place to which
anybody could
have escaped, if any one could have been playing a trick upon us;
not a trace of
an elephant, and nothing to show for our fright, except the bolt
torn off the
folding-door with the force of the bursting open, and three broken
chairs to
testify to the speed of our departure! We gathered again in our
room, and gave
way (now it was over) to unrestrained mirth — all but our sceptic,
who had
rushed straight out of the house; and he was so terrified that he
would not even
return into the hall below for his coat and hat, and they had to be
carried out
into the street for him. I have never seen him since, but I have
sometimes
wondered exactly how he explained to himself afterwards the deception
which he
must have supposed to be practised upon him.
In this case the guides controlling the seance evidently thought it
desirable to
administer a salutory lesson; but this is rarely done, as it is not
usually
considered worth while to waste so large an amount of energy over
so unworthy an
object as the conceited and blatant sceptic. It is one of the rules
of the
higher life that force should be economized, and employed only
where there is at
least reasonable hope that good can be done. We have an instance
of the
application of this rule in the life of our Great Exemplar, for is
it not
recorded that when Christ visited His own country “He did not many
mighty works
there because of their unbelief”?* His power could unquestionably
have broken
down their obstinate scepticism; but it is His Will to knock at the
door of the
human heart, not to force Himself upon those who are as yet unready
to profit by
His ministrations.
__________
· Matthew, xiii, .
-------Cardiff Theosophical Society in Wales-------
206 Newport Road, Cardiff, Wales, UK. CF24-1DL
.
Chapter X
.
SOME RECENT MATERIALIZATION PHENOMENA
ectoplasms
.
It
is only lately that scientific men have undertaken an enquiry into
the nature of
the curious material produced at seances, out of which visible and
tangible
phantoms are built. It has long been understood in a general way by
spiritualists that the visiting entities use some sort of matter
derived from
the medium, and to some extent from the other persons present, with
which to
densify their superphysical forms. Bat only comparatively recently
has it been
realized that the material so employed comes not merely from the
etheric body,
but even to a large extent from the tissues of the dense physical
body, and that
it therefore has in some way impressed upon it the habit of the
organic
structures from which it comes.
Apparently, then, the operating entities find it necessary to allow
that
material to follow its own lines of growth in the production of
forms as it
densifies, adapting these only so far as may be absolutely
necessary; the aim
being, no doubt, to conserve energy as much as possible. This
physiological
aspect of materialization phenomena has called forth much
scientific interest,
and up to date we have the results of extensive research upon it in
several
volumes, particularly in Dr. Geley’s Clairvoyance and Materialization
and Baron
von Schrenck-Notzing’s Phenomena of Materialization.
.
The
substance in question appears to be of precisely the same
character from
whatever medium it may come. It issues in an invisible form, which
may sometimes
be felt as a wind. It then becomes vaporous, and finally condenses
into a white,
grey or black material of various textures. This is then moulded
into human
limbs and faces and sometimes entire figures, apparently by unseen
sources of
intelligence. Sometimes, however, the operating intelligences are
seen by the
medium or other clairvoyant persons who may be present, and also
other than
human forms are produced, as in the case of Mr. Kluski, about whom
a perfectly
formed eagle has frequently been seen and even photographed. On
account of the
plastic quality of this material and the fact that it can be
moulded into forms
at a little distance from the medium’s body, it goes by the name of
teleplasm,
and to the forms made out of it Professor Richet gave the name
ectoplasms some
years ago. Afterwards, some writers modified Professor Richet’s
nomenclature,
and designated the substance itself ectoplasm.
In the case of the famous medium Eusapia Palladino the first
manifestation
appeared in the form of a cool wind issuing from her forehead,
especially from
an old wound on one side of her head, and from other parts of the
body. This
wind would billow out the curtains of the cabinet or the material
of her dress,
and within the protection of the dark space behind them would
proceed to densify
into a form, which might then emerge into some degree of light. The
endeavours
of later investigators have been to induce the operating entities
to perform the
entire process in full view as far as possible, for the sake of
scientific
research, and this no doubt accounts for the fact that many of the
materialized
forms photographed in various stages of growth are not as perfect
as some of the
earlier phenomena, such as the appearance of Katie King through the
mediurnship
of Florence Cook.
the phEnomEna of eUsapia palladino
The following typical account of Madame Palladino’s work appears in
Mr.
Carrington’s Eusapia Palladino and her Phenomena, p. 205:
.
After the medium had resumed her chair, we felt her head with our
hands, to see
if the cold breeze was issuing from her forehead. We all clearly
perceived it
with our hands, placed at a distance of about three inches from the
medium’s
head. F. held his hand over her mouth and nose, and we all did
likewise, holding
our noses and mouths and refraining from breathing, and the breeze
was still
distinctly perceptible. B. then held a small paper flag to the
medium’s forehead
— her nose and mouth, as well as our own, still being covered. The
flag blew out
several times, and then out so forcibly that it turned completely
over and
wrapped itself once round the flagstaff, to which it was attached.
The objective
nature of this breeze was thus established — though a thermometer
held to her
head failed to record any lowering of temperature.
A fair example of the phenomena produced by what was presumably a condensation
of this wind was given in the experiments made at Turin in 1907 by
Professor
Lombroso and his two assistants, Dr. Imoda and Dr. Audenino. These
seances were
held in the clinical chamber of psychiatry in the University, and
were attended
by a number of eminent men. The unanimous opinion was that “even
the cleverest
trickery could not begin to explain the majority of the phenomena
observed”. The
phenomena took place in the light of an electric lamp of ten
candle-power. In
the second and later seances there were heavy blows on the table as
well as the
usual lighter raps, and various musical instruments were played.
The persons
present were tapped and pulled, and various objects were thrown
about.
. A
footstool of common wood, which was inside the medium’s cabinet,
shook and fell;
the curtain also shook; behind it a hand grasped repeatedly the
extended hands
of those present; shook them and caressed them. Suddenly, to the
surprise of
all, a little closed hand, the arm covered with a dark sleeve,
showed itself in
the full light, quite visibly; it was pink, plump and fresh.
“Surprise did not
prevent our at once giving attention to the control of the medium;
her hands
were firmly enclosed in those of the two watchful doctors.” A few
minutes later
a cold wind came from behind the curtain, which suddenly opened as
if it had
been opened by two hands, a human head came out, with a pale,
haggard face, of
sinister evil aspect. It lingered a moment and then disappeared.
The wooden stool rose up in the air and seemed to want to leave the
cabinet,
pushing aside the curtains. It was liberated from the curtains,
then it
continued to ascend in an inclined position toward the circle.
Several hands
stretched out, following the curious phenomenon, and lightly
touched the object.
The woman’s small hand then reappeared near the curtain, seized one
of the feet
of the footstool, and pushed it. Signor Mucchi broke the chain,
and, by a rapid
action, seized the warm hand, which at once seemed to dissolve and
disappeared.
Immediately observations were made to ascertain if the medium’s two
hands were
well controlled; such was found to be the case. The footstool kept
on rising,
and passed over the heads of the sitters, but at this moment the
medium seemed
in distress, and cried out: “It will kill us! Catch it!” The hands
that were
following the movements of the small piece of furniture then
seized hold of it
to withdraw it from this perilous position, but an invisible force
withdrew it
to the centre of the table, where it finally remained in repose.
.
At
the close of the seance, the reporter placed his hand on the deep
scar which the
medium has on the left side of her head, and felt a strong, cold,
continuous
breeze issuing from it, like a human breath. He subsequently felt
the same cold
breeze issuing, though less strongly, from the tips of her fingers.
(p. 90).
In some cases a complete form appeared, as in the following record,
on page 96:
.
The
medium rested her head against the shoulder of the controller on
the right; her
hands were held in his; suddenly the curtain shook violently, a
cold wind passed
out, then a human form covered by the thin material of the curtain
was visible
against this light background. The head of a woman, unstable and
staggering,
approached the face of the old man; she moved tremblingly like an
old woman;
perhaps she kissed him; the old man encouraged her; she withdrew,
returned,
seemed as if she was afraid to venture, then advanced resolutely.
the telEplasm of eva C.
One of the most successful materializing mediums of recent years is
the lady
known as Eva C. More than a hundred scientific men, especially
physicians, have
had an opportunity of observing her phenomena. Dr. Geley had two
sittings a week
with her for twelve months, and has fully and carefully described
the teleplasm
or ectoplasm. In a lecture given on the 28th of January, 1918, to
the members of
the Psychological Institute in the medical lecture theatre of the
College de
France, in which Dr. Geley discusses his observations with Eva C.,
he gave a
description of the material which has been summarized as follows.
(Phenomena of
Materialization, p. .)
.
A
substance emanates from the body of the medium, it externalizes
itself, and is
amorphous, or polymorphous, in the first instance. This substance
takes various
forms, but, in general, it shows more or less composite organs. We
may
distinguish (1) the substance as a substratum of materialization;
(2) its
organized development. Its appearance is generally announced by
the presence of
fluid, white and luminous flakes of a size ranging from that of a
pea to that of
a five-franc piece, and distributed here and there over the
medium’s black
dress, principally on the left side.
This manifestation is a premonitory phenomenon, which sometimes
precedes the
other phenomena by three quarters of an hour, or an hour. Sometimes
it is
wanting, and it occasionally happens that no other manifestation
follows.
The substance itself emanates from the whole body of the medium,
but especially
from the natural orifices and the extremities, from the top of the
head, from
the breasts, and the tips of the fingers. The most usual origin,
which is most
easily observed, is that from the mouth. We then see the substance
externalizing
itself from the inner surface of the cheeks, from the gums, and
from the roof of
the mouth.
The substance occurs in various forms, sometimes as ductile dough,
sometimes as
a true protoplastic mass, sometimes in the form of numerous thin
threads,
sometimes as cords of various thickness, or in the form of narrow
rigid rays,
or as a broad band, as a membrane, as a fabric, or as a woven
material with
indefinite and irregular outlines. The most curious appearance is
presented by a
widely expanded membrane, provided with fringes and rucks, and
resembling in
appearance a net.
The amount of externalized matter varies within wide limits. In
some cases it
completely envelops the medium as in a mantle. It may have three
different
colours — white, black, or grey. The white colour is the most
frequent, perhaps
because it is most easily observed. Sometimes the three colours
appear
simultaneously. The visibility of the substance varies a great
deal, and it may
slowly increase or decrease in succession. To the touch it gives
various
impressions. Sometimes it is moist and cold, sometimes viscous and
sticky, more
rarely dry and hard. The impression created depends on the shape.
It appears
soft and slightly elastic when it is expanded, and hard, knotty, or
fibrous when
it forms cords. Sometimes it produces the feeling of a spider’s web
passing over
the observer's hand. The threads are both rigid and elastic.
The substance is mobile. Sometimes it moves slowly up or down,
across the
medium, on her shoulders, on her breast, or on her knees, with a
creeping motion
resembling a reptile.
Sometimes the movements are sudden and quick. The substance appears
and
disappears like lightning and is extraordinarily sensitive. Its
sensitiveness is
mixed up with the hyperaesthetic sensibility of the medium. Every
touch produces
a painful reaction in the medium. When the touch is moderately
strong, or
prolonged, the medium complains of a pain comparable with the pain
produced by a
shock to the normal body.
The substance is sensitive to light. Strong light, especially when
sudden and
unexpected, produces a painful disturbance in the subject. Yet
nothing is more
variable than the action of light. In some cases, the phenomena
withstand full
daylight. The magnesium flash-light acts like a sudden blow on the
medium, but
it is withstood, and flash-light photographs can be taken.
The substance has an intrinsic and irresistible tendency towards
organization.
It does not remain long in the primitive condition. It often
happens that the
organization is so rapid that the primordial substance does not
appear at all.
At other times one sees at the same time the amorphous substance,
and some forms
or structures, more or less completely embedded in it, e.g., a
thumb suspended
in a fringe of the substance. One even sees heads and faces
embedded in the
material.
.
As
to actual experiments, Dr. Geley gives the following case from his
note book:
.
A
cord of white substance proceeds slowly from the mouth down to
Eva’s knees,
having the thickness of about two fingers. This band assumes the
most varied
forms before our eyes. Sometimes it expands in the form of a
membraneous fabric,
with gaps and bulges. Sometimes it contracts and folds up,
subsequently
expanding and stretching out again. Here and there projections
issue from the
mass, a sort of pseudopods, and these sometimes take, for a few
seconds, the
form of fingers, or the elementary outline of a hand, subsequently
returning
back into the mass. Finally, the cord contracts into itself,
extending again on
Eva’s knees. Its end rises in the air, leaves the medium, and
approaches me. I
then see that the end condenses itself in the form of a knot or
terminal bud,
and this again expands into a perfectly modelled hand. I touch this
hand; it
feels quite normal. I feel the bones and the fingers with the
nails. This hand
is then drawn back, becomes smaller, and vanishes at the end of the
cord. The
latter makes a few further motions, contracts, and then returns
into the
medium’s mouth. (p. .)
Again:
.
A
head suddenly appears about 30 inches from the head of the medium,
above her and
on her right side. It is a human head of normal dimensions, well
developed, and
with the usual relief. The top of the skull and the forehead are
completely
materialized. The forehead is broad and high. The hair is short and
thick, and
of a chestnut or black colour. Below the line of the eyebrows the
design is
vague, only the forehead and skull appearing clearly. The head
disappears for a
moment behind the curtain, and then reappears in the same condition,
but the
face, imperfectly materialized, is covered with a white mask. I
extend my hand,
and pass my fingers through the bushy hair, and touch the bones of
the skull.
The next moment everything had disappeared. (p. .)
Speaking from the physiological point of view the doctor adds:
.
Both normal and supernormal physiology tend to establish the unity
of the
organic substance. In our experiments we have observed, above all,
that a
uniform amorphous substance externalizes itself from the medium’s
body, and
gives rise to the various ideoplastic forms. We have seen how this
uniform
substance organized and transformed itself under our eyes. We have
seen a hand
emerging from the mass of the substance; a white mass developed
into a face. We
have seen how in a few moments the form of a head was replaced by
the shape of a
hand. By the concurrent testimony of sight and touch we have
followed the
transition of the amorphous unorganized substance into an
organically developed
structure which had temporarily all the attributes of life — a
complete
formation, so to speak, in flesh arid blood.
We have watched the disappearance of these formations as they sank
back into
primitive substance, and have even observed how, in an instant,
they were
absorbed into the body of the medium. In supranormal physiology
there are no
different organic substrata for the various substances, as, e.g., a
bone
substance, a muscular, visceral, or nervous substance; it is simply
then a
single substance, the basis and substratum of organic life.
In normal physiology it is exactly the same, but it is not so
obvious. In some
cases it appears quite clear that the phenomenon which takes place
in the black
seance cabinet, takes place also, as already mentioned, in the
chrysalis of the
insect. The dissolution of tissues reduces a large proportion of
the organs, and
their various parts, to a single substance, that substance which is
destined to
materialize the organs and the various parts of the adult form. We,
therefore,
have the same manifestation in both physiologies. (p. .)
But it is Baron von Schrenck-Notzing of Munich who has given us the
fullest
account of Eva’s mediumship, in his great work Phenomena of
Materialization, a
large volume containing no less than 225 illustrations, mostly from
actual
photographs of the occurrences. These are derived from literally
hundreds of
sessions, extending from May, 1909 to June, . The phenomena
described in
this book are of the same nature as those of Dr. Geley, but as they
relate to an
earlier period of Eva’s work they show a gradual development of the
power, at
any rate with respect to that condition of the teleplastic
substance in which it
is capable of being photographed. Madame Bisson, who lives with
Eva, and has
taken care of her for many years, describes a number of occasions
on which she
was able to handle the teleplasm, and she confirms the sensations
of it which
are described by Dr. Geley.
The teleplasm is rarely, if ever, entirely separated from the
medium, and though
it possesses no organized nerves, impressions made upon it by touch
and by light
appear in the medium’s consciousness as her own sensations.
Incidentally, this
proves that the nervous system is not absolutely necessary for the
communication
of sensations to the brain. Generally speaking, any pressure given
to the
substance, or any sudden and powerful light, such as that from a
pocket electric
lamp, hurts the medium. The
pain seems to appear in the body of the medium in
that part of the body from which the material was probably drawn.
The following
example illustrates this to some extent.
.
Eva
took my right hand in both her hands. This time the material was
thrown on my
right hand and on her hands, completely enclosing our hands. I then
commenced to
pull again and to draw the material outwards, proceeding as
tenderly as
possible, in order not to hurt the medium. When I began to examine
the material,
it had curled right round my hand. Suddenly Eva made a movement
with her hands,
lying on my arm, and involuntarily pulled at the material held by
me. It
obviously frightened and hurt her, for she screamed, and gave me
great anxiety.
I tried to soothe her, but she complained of a strong nausea. The
nausea
continued for about ten minutes (p. .)
. At
a later sitting (p. 131) when a female head showed itself, the
Baron heard Eva
speak at the same time, and request Madame Bisson to cut a lock
from the head.
Madame Bisson took a pair of scissors, and while under the careful
observation
of the Baron, cut off a lock of hair about four inches long and
gave it to him.
The materialized structure then suddenly disappeared in the
direction of the
medium, accompanied by a scream from her. After the sitting a lock
of the
medium’s hair was cut, with her permission. While Eva’s hair showed
an entirely
brunette character, that taken from the small head (which
represented a female
form whom Eva called Estelle) was blonde, and the fact that the two
samples of
hair were quite different was further proved by the
microphotographical and
chemical examinations made by experts (p. 133).
SCIENTIFIC PRECAUTIONS
It should be mentioned that the scientists engaged in this research
work always
made every possible examination of the medium as well as of the
place of meeting
beforehand. As to this Dr. von Schrenck-Notzing writes:
.
Not
one of the observers during these four years has ever found on the
medium’s
body, or in the seance costumes anything which could have been used
for the
fraudulent production of the phenomena. The author was a witness to
the thorough
performance of this task on no less than 180 occasions. The honesty
of the
medium is therefore not a probability, but a certainty placed
beyond all
question. She has never introduced any objects into the cabinet
with which she
could have fraudulently represented the teleplastic products. The various
seance
rooms, in different houses, had no secret passages or trap-doors,
and were
regularly examined, both before and after every sitting. (p. .)
If many of the faces and forms which appear look to the casual
observer as
though drawn upon and cut out of paper, and are even marked by
lines as though
that paper, had been folded up, nevertheless it cannot be assumed
that paper
figures were smuggled into the seances. Both the rigidity of the
searches and
the control of the medium prevent not only their being introduced,
but also
their being handled if introduced. The examination of the
photographs by
experts, and their fruitless attempt to produce similar effects
with paper
figures photographed under exactly the same conditions, also show
fraud to be
impossible; and the exgurgitation hypothesis, which has been
proposed by some
speculators, also stretches the imagination too far from possible
facts;
besides, in some of the experiments bilberry jam was given to Eva
to eat shortly
before the sitting, and this must inevitably have coloured the
entire contents
of the stomach (p. 206).
the development of the forms
.
On
the other hand, it does often appear that the intelligences
operating in the
production of the forms have some difficulty in their
materialization, which
they can overcome only by methods of production resembling those of
the artist
and the sculptor on our own plane. For example, as to the
experiment of the 10th
of September, 1912, the Baron mentions (p. 196) that the head which
appeared
showed in several respects faults of drawing. Sometimes the same
phantom appears
a number of times, with or without a considerable interval. In such
cases Baron
von Schrenck-Notzing finds that while there is the same head and
dress, and
position of the arms crossed over the breast, there are a great
number of small
differences. He concludes that the differences between the pictures
taken of the
same type but on different evenings may be compared with the
different poses of
a person at a photographer’s, and that they are due principally to
different
positions of the body, owing to displacement and changes in the
external lines
and the folds of the dress. The differences, he adds, indicate
mobility and
variability of the artistic will behind the scenes in the details
and shades of
the conception, for the “elementary formative principle” never
produces rigid
and unchangeable products,
“but the photographed emanations always indicate a
mobile, soft material basis, which is highly changeable and rapidly
perishable.”
(p. .)
The same distinguished investigator had also a number of seances
with a Polish
medium, a girl of nineteen years, named Stanislava P. (p. 251 et
seq.) From her
he obtained phenomena very similar to those presented by Eva C. In
this series
of investigations some cinema pictures were taken — on one
occasion as many as
four hundred, and on another three hundred and sixty (p. 258). The
films show
the recession of the material into the mouth of the medium, and one
of them also
shows the broadening and narrowing of the mass of substance.
In 1922 Baron von Schrenck-Notzing devoted several months to
demonstrations of
the reality of ectoplasm to members of the liberal professions, in
this case
with a medium named Willy Schneider, an Austrian boy of . Through
these
phenomena a large number of scientists became convinced of the
reality of
materializations.
the clothing oF phantoms
The question is sometimes asked why the materialized forms of
persons who have
been dead for a considerable time still present themselves in the
clothing which
they used to wear. This is not always strictly the case, but it is
generally so
even when the departed person may have changed his habit in the
astral world.
One reason for this is that many of them would not be recognized in
their new
condition, but it appears also that when they come within earth
influence their
old earth condition closes in upon them, as it were, and reproduces
the old
material forms. Through Mrs. Coates in trance (Photographing the
Invisible, p.
208) the reply given to this question was :
When we think what we were like upon the earth, the ether condenses
around us
and encloses us like an envelope. We are within those ether-like
substances
which are drawn to us, and our thoughts of what we were like and
what we would
be better known by, produce not only the clothing, but the
fashioning of our
forms and features. It is here the spirit chemists step in. They
fashion
according to their ability that ether substance quicker than
thought, and
produce our earth features so that they may be recognized ... When
I was
photographed ... at Los Angeles, that etherealized matter was
attracted or clung
to me, taking on the features fashioned by my thoughts, which were,
by some
sudden impulse or mysterious law, those of my last illness on
earth.
A somewhat unusual modification of this process is recounted in Mr.
J. Arthur
Hill’s New Evidences in Psychical Research. At a sitting on Feb.
7th, 1908, the
medium Watson said that he saw in the room the dead mother of one
of the
sitters. He described her as attired in a brown silk dress, high in
the neck,
trimmed with white, and having a lined or watered effect in its
texture. He said
that there was some history attached to this dress, about which the
sitter ought
to enquire from her sister. On enquiry from the lady mentioned they
learned that
the old lady had ordered a dress such as that described, but it was
delivered
only the day before she died, and so was never worn. Mr. Hill
remarks that, if
the supposition of fraud be dismissed, this incident suggests :
Neither telepathy nor a rummaging among passive memories in a
cosmic reservoir,
but rather the activity of a surviving mind, able to marshal its
earth-memories
and to select from them for presentation to the medium such details
as will
constitute the strongest possible evidence of identity. (p. .)
the wax glovEs
It would be difficult to imagine anything more effective in the way
of proof of
the actual presence of solid materialized human forms than those
products which
have become popularly known as the wax gloves. These are paraffin
wax moulds of
various human members. Dr. Geley gives us a full account of a
number of seances
in which these were produced. (Clairvoyance and Materialization,
pp. 221 to
.) The medium for these experiments was Mr. Franek Kluski, of
Warsaw. This
gentleman, who has been psychic from childhood, is described by Dr.
Geley as a
member of a liberal profession, a writer and a poet, a sympathetic
and
attractive personality, very intelligent, well educated, speaking
several
languages, and adds that he has placed his wonderful gifts freely
and
disinterestedly at the service first of his own compatriots and
then of the
Metapsychic Institute, by frank devotion to science. The phenomena
are
plentiful, including exhibitions of the primary substance and
luminous
phenomena, materializations of human members, of human faces and
animal forms,
and the movement of objects without apparent contact, as well as
phenomena of a
mental order.
We will, however, confine ourselves here to a brief account of the
wax moulds.
In these sittings a tank of melted paraffin wax was set upon an
electric heater,
the materialized entity was asked to plunge a hand or foot or even
part of the
face into the paraffin several times. This action results in the
formation of a
closely fitting envelope, which sets quite rapidly. When the form
dematerializes
the glove or envelope remains, and if it be desired plaster can
afterwards be
poured into the mould, giving a perfect cast of the hand or other
member upon
which it had been formed. In one short series of sittings nine
moulds were
produced, of which seven were all hands, one was a foot and one a
mouth and
chin. The following is Dr. Geley’s account of the tenth experiment
in this
series:
Control was perfect — right hand held by Professor Richet and left
by Count
Potocki. The controllers kept repeating “I am holding the right
hand,” or “I am
holding the left hand.” After fifteen or twenty minutes splashing
was audible in
the tank, and the hands operating, covered with warm paraffin,
touched those of
the controllers. Before the experiment Professor Richet and I had
added some
blue colouring matter to the paraffin, which then had a bluish
tinge. This was
done secretly, to be an absolute proof that the moulds were made on
the spot and
not brought ready-made into the laboratory by Franek or any other
person, and
passed off on us by legerdemain. The operation lasted as before,
from one to two
minutes.
Two admirable moulds resulted, of right and left hands of the size
of the hands
of children five to seven years old. These were of bluish wax, the
same colour
as that in the tank.
Weight of paraffin before experiment: 3 kilograms 920 grams.
Weight of paraffin after the experiment: 3 kilograms 800 grams.
Weight of the moulds: 50 grams.
The difference is represented by a considerable quantity of wax
scattered on the
floor, about 15 grams near the medium and also some far from him,
31/2 yards
distant, in a place to which he could not have gone, near the
photographic
apparatus. We did not scratch up this last, which was adherent to
the floor, for
weighing, but there was a good deal of it — about 25 grams. Mr.
Kluski had not
been near that place either before or during the experiment. There
was also
paraffin on the hands and clothes of the medium. His hands had
never been
released from the hold of the controllers. (p. .)
The appearance of paraffin on Mr. Kluski’s hands and clothes
reminds us of the
same occurrences in Mr. Crawford’s experiments in the Goligher
circle, already
described in Chapter VII. The moulds mentioned above show hands
with fingers
bent down, and thumbs turned over them or over the palm of the
hand, and in some
cases two hands are shown with fingers interlocked in various ways.
For these
and other reasons it is quite certain that the wax moulds have been
made upon
human members afterwards dematerialized.
In the second series of experiments conducted at Warsaw (those
above mentioned
took place in Paris) some of the materializations were at the same
time visible.
Dr. Geley says:
We had in this case a new and hitherto unpublished proof. We had
the great
pleasure of seeing the hands dipped into the paraffin. They were
luminous,
bearing points of light at the finger-tips. They passed slowly before
our eyes,
dipped into the wax, moved in it for a few seconds, came out, still
luminous,
and deposited the glove against the hand of one of us. (p. .)
-------Cardiff Theosophical Society in Wales-------
206 Newport Road, Cardiff, Wales, UK. CF24-1DL
Chapter XI
.
OUR ATTITUDE TOWARDS SPIRITUALISM
much in common
“but,” some spiritualists have said to me, “we always thought that
you
Theosophists supposed all our phenomena to be the work of
elementals, or
fairies, or devils or something of that sort!” No Theosophist who
knows anything
about it has ever made any such foolish assertion. What may have
been said is
that some part of the phenomena were occasionally produced by
agencies other
than dead men or women; and that is perfectly true. It has often
seemed to me
that there has frequently been a good deal of entirely unnecessary
mistrust and
misconception between Theosophists and spiritualists. Various
spiritualistic
organs have frequently abused Theosophy in no measured terms, and
there is no
doubt that on our side also both speakers and writers have often
referred to
spiritualism with much scorn, but with little knowledge. But I hope
that with
more knowledge each of the other we shall come to respect one
another more as we
understand one another better, for we each have our part to fill in
the great
work of the future. It would indeed be foolish of us to quarrel,
for we have
more in common with each other than either of us has with any of
the other
shades of opinion.
points of agreement
We both hold strenuously to the great central idea of man as an
immortal and
ever-progressive being; we both know that as is his life now, so
shall it be
after he has cast aside this body, which is his only that he may
learn through
it; we both hold the Fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man
as fundamental
tenets; and we both know that the gains and rewards of this world
are but as
dross compared with the glorious certainties of the higher life
beyond the
grave. Let us stand side by side on this common platform, and let
us postpone
the consideration of our points of difference until we have
converted the rest
of the world to the belief in these points upon which we agree.
Surely that is
wise policy, for these are the points of importance; and if the
life is lived in
accordance with these all the rest will follow.
We have a magnificent system of philosophy; our spiritualistic
brother does not
care for it. Well, if his thought does not run along that line, why
should we
seek to force it upon him? Perhaps presently he will feel the need
of some such
system; if he does, then there it is all ready for his study. I
believe that in
due course I shall return to live again upon this earth; herein
some of my
spiritualistic brothers agree with me, and some do not; but, after
all, what
does that matter? To us this doctrine of reincarnation is luminous
and helpful,
because it seems to explain so much for which otherwise there is no
solution;
but if another man does not yet feel the need of it, it is no part
of our policy
to try to force it upon him.
We hold the idea of continued progress after death by means of
further lives
upon this earth, after the life on subtler planes is over; the
spiritualist
prefers the idea of passing on to other and higher spheres
altogether. We both
agree that there is a progress hereafter; let us live so as to make
the best use
of this existence as a preparation for that, for if we do that we
shall surely
come out successfully, whichever of us is right as to the place of
our future
meeting. When all the world is living its highest in the
preparation for that
life of progress, it will be time enough to begin to argue about
where it will
be lived.
untrained observation of little value
As to the spiritualistic phenomena, we have no quarrel whatever
with them; we
know well that they take place, and we know that they have had
great value as
demonstrating the reality of superphysical life to many a sceptical
mind. There
are many men who seem constitutionally incapable of profiting by
the experience
of others; they must go and see everything for themselves, not
realizing that,
even if they do see, their untrained observations will be of
little value. On
this point Mr. Fullerton has well said:
To ensure observations with any worth there must be long and
careful discipline;
natural errors must through repeated experience be guarded against,
distinctions
and qualifications and illusions be learned. This is true of the
physical plane;
much more of the astral plane, where phenomena are so different,
conditions so
unlike, misguidance so multiform. He who assumes that his untutored
observation
for the first time of the contents and facts of the astral world
would better
determine them than does the trained faculty of long and
accomplished students,
presupposes really that he is an exception to universal rule,
superior to other
men and of different mould. But what is this save a form of vanity,
a case of
that strange delusion as to personal worth which the smallest
observation of
human nature might have cured? It is akin to the supposition that
his first
introduction to an unknown continent, he not being a naturalist, a
physicist, or
a botanist, would be more conclusive in its results than the
protracted
researches of scientists long familiar with the region and mutually
comparing
their investigations. (The Proofs of Theosophy, p. .)
If a man must see for himself, and is unable to rest upon the basis
of
intellectual conviction, by all means let him attend the
spiritualistic seance,
and learn by experience, as so many others have done. It is not a
course that we
should advise except to such a man as this, because there are
certain serious
drawbacks to it from our point of view.
drawbacks
The greatest of these is one at which the sceptic would laugh — the
danger of
believing too much! For if the sceptic has determination and
perseverance, he
will assuredly be convinced sooner or later; and when he is, it is
quite likely
that the pendulum will swing to the other extreme, and that he will
believe too
much, instead of too little. He may readily grow to regard all the
words of the
dead as gospel, all communications which come through the tilts of
a table as
divinely inspired.
There is also another danger — that of being uncomfortably haunted.
Often there
come to a seance most undesirable dead people, men of depraved
morals, seeking
to gratify vicariously obscene lower passions. And besides these,
there are
those dead men who are mad with fear, who are clutching desperately
at any and
every opportunity to seize a physical vehicle, to get back at any
cost and by
any means into touch with the lower life which they have lost. The
“guide”
usually protects his medium from such influences, and will not
allow such a man
to communicate; but he cannot prevent him from attaching himself to
other
sitters and following them home. The sceptic may think himself
strong-minded and
non-sensitive, and therefore proof against any such possibility;
some day he may
be unpleasantly undeceived as to this; but even if that be so, does
he wish to
run the risk of bringing home an influence to his wife or his
daughter? Of
course, I fully recognize that this is only a possibility — that a
man might
attend a score of seances and encounter nothing of this sort; yet
these things
have happened, and they are happening even now. People driven to
the verge of
insanity by astral persecution have come to me again and again; and
in many
cases it was at a seance that they first encountered that ghostly
companion. The
strong can resist; but who knows whether he is strong until he
tries?
Resolution needed
When, however, this unfortunate thing has already happened to a
person — when he
already feels himself haunted or obsessed — there is only one thing
to be done,
and that is to set the mind steadily against it in determined
resistance.
Realize firmly that the human will is stronger than any evil
influence, and that
you have a right to your own individuality and the use of your own
organs — a
right to choose your company astrally as well as on the physical
plane. Assert
this right persistently, and all will be well with you. Take
resolutely to heart
the common sense advice given by Miss Freer, in her Essays in
Psychical
Research:
If you believe yourself obsessed, if planchette swears, if your
table-raps give
lying messages, and you fall into trances at unreasonable moments,
drop the
subject. Get a bicycle, or learn Hebrew, or go on a walking tour,
or weed the
garden! If you are sane, you can do as you like with your own mind;
if you can
not, consult the staff of Colney Hatch! Want of self-restraint is
either sin or
disease.
possibility of decepTIon
Then there is always the possibility of deception — not so much of
deception by
the medium, or by any one on the physical plane, as by entities
behind. I have
known many cases in which such deceptions were well-intentioned;
but of course
they remain deceptions nevertheless. It may happen that one dead
man personates
another from the best of motives — it may be simply to comfort
surviving
relations, by taking the place of one who does not care
sufficiently, or perhaps
is ashamed to come. Sometimes one man will take the place of
another who has
already passed on to the heaven-world and so is out of reach, in
order that his
surviving relations may not feel themselves neglected or abandoned.
In such a
case it is not for us to blame him; his action may be right or it
may be wrong,
but that is a matter exclusively for his own conscience, and we are
not called
upon to judge him. I simply note the fact that such cases occur.
It must be remembered that the man who has passed on into the
heaven-world has
left behind him his astral corpse, which is at the stage of decay
of the shade
or of the shell, according to the time which has elapsed since he
abandoned it.
Obviously to utilize and revivify this will be the easier way of
personating
him, and it is therefore the plan usually adopted.
It is not even in the least necessary that the communicating entity
should be
human at all; many a joyous and obliging nature-spirit is proud to
have the
opportunity of playing the part of a being belonging to a superior
evolution,
and will continue assuring his delighted audience that he is “so
happy” as long
as they like to listen to him.
The entity who poses at a seance as Shakespeare or Julius Caesar,
as Mary Queen
of Scots or George Washington, is usually of this class, though he
is sometimes
also a human being of low degree, to whom it is a joy to strut even
for a few
minutes in such borrowed plumes, to enjoy even for a single evening
the respect
due to a well-known name. Also, if he has something to say which he
considers
useful or important, he thinks (and quite rightly) that credulous
mortals are
more likely to pay attention to it if it be attributed to some
distinguished
person. His motives are often estimable, even though we cannot
approve of his
methods.
There is any amount of such personation as this; it is one of the
commonest
facts which we encounter in our researches. There is a book on
Spiritualism, for
example, by Judge Edmonds of the Supreme Court of New York, which
consists
chiefly of communications purporting to come from Swedenborg and
Bacon, with
occasional observations from Washington and Charlemagne; but none
of these great
people seem to have risen at all to the level of their earthly
reputation, and
their remarks do not, differ appreciably from the deadly dullness
of the
ordinary trance-address, while many of their statements are of
course wildly
inaccurate.
Another fine example is the list of signatures appended to the
prolegomena of
The Spirits’ Book, by Allan Kardec, which is as follows: “John the
Evangelist,
St. Augustine, St. Vincent de Paul, St. Louis, the Spirit of Truth,
Socrates,
Plato, Fenelon, Franklin, Swedenborg, etc., etc.” One wonders who
is covered by
the mystic “etc., etc.,” and whether the other names were all that
the
communicating entity could think of at the moment!
All such extravagant pretensions as these are so obviously
ridiculous that they
are easy of detection. But when the man personated is one of
ordinary type, it
is quite another matter; so that at a seance, unless the sitter is
himself a
trained clairvoyant of no mean order, he simply cannot tell what it
is that he
sees, however much he may flatter himself that his discernment is
perfect. Let
me quote once more what I wrote some years ago in The Astral Plane,
p. .
A manifesting “spirit” is often exactly what it professes to be,
but often also
is nothing of the kind; and for the ordinary sitter there is
absolutely no means
of distinguishing the true from the false, since the extent to
which a being
having all the resources of the astral plane at his command can
delude a person
on the physical plane is so great that no reliance can be placed
even on what
seems the most convincing proof.
If something manifests which announces itself as a man’s long-lost
brother, he
can have no certainty that its claim is a just one. If it tells him
of some fact
known only to that brother and to himself, he remains unconvinced,
for he knows
that it might easily have read the information from his own mind,
or from his
surroundings in the astral light. Even if it goes still further and
tells him
something connected with his brother, of which he himself is
unaware, which he
afterwards verifies, he still realizes that even this may have been
read from
the astral records, or that what he sees before him may be only the
shade of his
brother, and so possess his memory without in any way being
himself. It is not
for one moment denied that important communications have sometimes
been made at
seances by entities who in such cases have been precisely what they
said they
were; all that is claimed is that it is quite impossible for the
ordinary person
who visits a seance ever to be certain that he is not being cruelly
deceived in
one or other of a dozen different ways.
Once more, I know that these are possibilities only, and that in
the majority of
cases the dead man gives his name honestly enough; but the
possibilities exist
nevertheless, and often materialize themselves into actualities.
harm to the medium
Another point is the harm which must to a greater or less extent be
done to the
medium — not only the extreme physical prostration which I have
mentioned,
leading sometimes to nervous break-down, and sometimes to excessive
use of
stimulants in order to avoid that break-down — but also along moral
lines. Here
I must protest emphatically against the ordinary type of paid
seances to which
anyone may come on payment of so much per head. It places the
unfortunate medium
in an utterly false position, and exposes him to a temptation to
which no man
ought ever intentionally to be exposed. Anyone who knows anything
at all about
these phenomena knows that they are erratic, that they are
dependent upon many
causes of which as yet he knows only a few, and that therefore
sometimes they
can be had and sometimes they cannot. This is the experience of
every
investigator. Miss Goodrich Freer corroborates it in the preface to
her Essays
in Psychical Research, p. vi:
If I know anything, I know that psychic phenomena are not to be
commanded, be
their origin what it may . . . He who ordains the services of
Angels as well as
of men may send His messengers — but not, I think, to produce
poltergeist
phenomena. The veil of the future may be lifted now and then — but
not, I take
it, at the bidding of a guinea fee in Bond Street. That we may
momentarily
transcend time and space, the temporary conditions of our
mortality, I cannot
doubt; but such phenomena are not to be commanded, nor of everyday
occurrence,
nor hastily to be assumed.
Now if the medium is in the position of having been paid beforehand
for their
production, and then he finds that they will not come, what is he
to do to
satisfy all these people who are sitting round him expecting their
money’s
worth? It is so easy to deceive them; they lend themselves to it so
readily;
nay, it is often quite sufficient just to allow them to deceive
themselves. It
is not fair to put any man in such a position as that; and if the
medium
sometimes falls into cheating, it is surely not he alone who is to
blame.
haRm to the dead
Then there is the whole question of possible harm to the dead. I
have already
admitted that the dead man sometimes wishes to communicate in order
to unburden
his mind in some way, and when this is the case it is well that he
should have
the opportunity of doing it. But these cases are comparatively
rare. If the
dead want us they will seek to reach us; but we should invariably
let the
movement come from their side — we should never seek to draw them
back. It may
be said, perhaps: “But is it
not a natural desire on the part of a mother to
see her dead child again?” Surely it would be more natural for the
mother to be
entirely unselfish, and to think first of what was best for the
child, before
she considered her personal longings. In many cases communication
with the
physical plane may do a man but little harm during the earliest
stages of his
astral life; but it must always be remembered that in every case it
intensifies
and prolongs his attachment to the lower levels of the plane — that
it sets up
in him a habit of remaining closely in touch with the earth-life.
the place and woRk op spiRitualism
Yet, with all this, spiritualism has assuredly its place and its
work, and it
has been of incalculable value to many thousands of men and women.
The Catholic
Church and the Salvation Army are both sections of Christianity,
yet they appeal
to widely different types of people, and those who are attracted by
one would
have been little likely to come to the other. So each has its place
and its work
to do for the broad idea of Christianity. In the same way it seems
to me that
Theosophy and spiritualism have each their clientele. Those who
study the
philosophy which we set before them would never have been satisfied
with the
trance-speaking and the constantly repeated phenomena of the
spiritualistic
seance; those who desire such phenomena, and those who yearn after
what good old
Dr. Dee used to call
“sermon-stuffe” would never have been happy with us, while
they find exactly what they want in spiritualism. For among
spiritualists, as
among any other body of men, there are several types. There are
those who are
chiefly interested in the trance-speaking, who make this their
religion and take
their trance-address followed by a clairvoyant reading of
surroundings every
Sunday evening, just as mortals who are otherwise disposed go to
church or to a
Theosophical lecture. Then there is the type whose interest is
purely personal —
whose one and only idea in connection with the whole affair is the
gratification
of their private and particular wish to see their own dead
relations. There is
another type who honestly and unselfishly set themselves to the
task of trying
to help and develop the degraded, the unevolved and the ignorant
among the dead;
and there is no doubt that they really achieve a great deal of good
with that
unpromising class of people. Others there are who are really
anxious to learn
and understand scientifically the facts of the higher life; and
these people,
while intensely delighted and interested for a time, usually find
presently that
beyond a certain point they can get no further; and then perhaps we
can do
something for them in Theosophy.
A question which is constantly asked is: “Why do not these dead men
who return
to us with the knowledge of a higher plane teach us the doctrine of
reincarnation?” The answer is perfectly simple; first of all, some
of them do
teach it. All spiritists of the French school of Allan Kardec hold
this doctrine
during life, and consequently when they return after death they
have still the
same story to tell. Those who return in England or America usually
say nothing
about it, because they have no means of knowing anything more about
it now than
they knew when they were upon earth. As we explained in an earlier
chapter, it
is the soul himself in his causal body who passes from life to
life, and he has
no more knowledge or memory of that wider existence on the astral
plane than he
had on the physical. So he repeats only what he has known on earth,
unless he is
so fortunate as to meet with someone who is able to teach him
something of this
grand truth — an Oriental for example, or a Theosophist.
Still, even in spiritualism evidence of reincarnation occasionally
appears, as,
for example, in Claude’s Book, by L. Kelway-Bamber, first published
in 1918,
wherein the young British officer, communicating from the astral
plane, devotes
a chapter to a description of the subject; and naturally it is
usually of that
rapid type of reincarnation of which Monsieur Gabrielle Delanne
collected so
many examples in the address which he delivered some years ago
before one of the
spiritualistic societies. Here, for example, is a curious case,
extracted from
the pages of The Progressive Thinker of December 13th, . It appears
in the
form of a letter to the editor, signed with the initials S.O., and
dated
somewhat vaguely from New Mexico.
A story OF reincarnation
I offer my personal experience as an absolute fact — not as
supporting any
theory. At the time I passed through the experience (28 years ago),
I knew
absolutely nothing of mediumship in any phase and probably had
never heard the
word reincarnation. I was then sixteen years of age and had been
married one
year.
The knowledge that I was to become a mother had just dawned upon
me, when in a
vague way I became conscious of the almost constant presence of an
invisible
personality. I seemed to know intuitively that my invisible
companion was a
woman, and quite a number of years older than myself. By degrees
this presence
grew stronger. In the third month after she first made her presence
felt, I
could receive impressionally long messages from her. She manifested
the most
solicitous care for my health and general welfare, and as time wore
on her voice
became audible to me, and I enjoyed many hours of conversation with
her. She
gave her name and nationality, with many details of her personal
history. She
seemed anxious that I should know and love her for herself, as she
expressed it.
She made continual efforts to become visible to me, and towards the
last
succeeded. She was then as true a companion to me as if she had
been clothed in
an embodiment of flesh. I had merely to draw my curtains, shrouding
the room
in quiet tones, to have the presence manifest, both to sight and
hearing.
Two or three weeks before the birth of my baby she informed me that
the real
purport of her presence was her intention to enter the new form at
its birth, in
order to complete an earth-experience that had come to an untimely
end. I
confess I had but a dim conception of her meaning, and was
considerably troubled
over the matter.
On the night before my daughter’s birth, I saw my companion for the
last time.
She came to me and said: “Our time is at hand; be brave and all
will be well
with us.”
My daughter came, and in appearance was a perfect miniature of my
spirit friend,
and totally unlike either family to which she belonged, and the
first remark of
everyone on seeing her would be:
“Why, she does not look like a baby at all.
She looks at least twenty years old.”
I was greatly surprised some years later when I chanced to find in
an old work
the story of the woman, whose name and history my spirit-friend
claimed as her
own in her earth-life, and the fragments of her story, as she had
given them to
me, were in accord with history, except some personal details not
likely to have
been known to anyone else. All this experience I kept to myself as
a profound
secret, for, young as I was, I realized what judgement the world
would place
upon the narrator of such a story.
Once when my daughter was in her fifteenth year, the first name of
my
spirit-friend happened to be mentioned in her presence. She turned
to me quickly
with a look of surprise on her face and said: “Mamma, didn’t my papa call me by
this name?” (Her father died when she was one year old.) I
said: “No, dear, you
were never called this name.” She replied: “Well, I surely remember
it, and
somebody somewhere called me by it.”
In conclusion I will add that in character my daughter is very much
like the
historic character of the woman whose spirit said she would inhabit
the new
form.
These are my facts. I offer no explanation; if they chance to fit
anybody’s
theory, so much the better for the theory. Theories usually need
some facts to
prop them up; facts are independent and able to stand on their own
feet.
Madame d’Espérance, who seems to be in so many respects in advance
of the
majority of mediums, appears to have been taught not only
reincarnation but much
other Theosophical doctrine by one of her dead friends, as is set
forth in her
book Shadowland. Perhaps the most striking incident in that very
interesting
work is the occasion on which the author leaves her body and is
shown a
remarkable symbolical vision of her life; for in that one
experience her eyes
are opened to the doctrine of cause arid effect, of evolution and
reincarnation,
and to the absolute realization of the fundamental unity of all,
however dimly
and imperfectly it may be expressed. For the law of cause and
effect is involved
in the statement made by the spirit-friend as to the path of life:
“It is the
road you have made; you have no other”. Evolution is taught when
she is shown
“that it is the same life which, circling for ever and ever through
form after
form, dwelling in the rocks, the sand, the sea, in each blade of
grass, each
tree, each flower, in all forms of animal existence, culminates in
man’s
intelligence and perception.”
As to reincarnation she remarks :
I could see that the fact of the spirit first taking on itself the
form of man
did not bring it to its utmost earthly perfection, for there are
many degrees of
man. In the savage it widens its experience and finds a new field
for education,
which being exhausted, another step is taken; and so step by step,
in an ever
onward, progressive, expansive direction the spirit develops, the
decay of the
forms which the spirit employs being only the evidence that they
have fulfilled
their mission, and served the purpose for which they were used.
They return to
their original elements, to be used again and again as a means
whereby the
spirit can manifest itself, and obtain the development it requires.
(p 376).
M. L. Chevreuil’s book Proofs of the Spirit World contains a chapter
entitled
“Previous Lives”, in which he vigorously supports the truth of
reincarnation.
He says:
The soul is an entity distinct from the body; it accompanies the
essential part
of the human being in the course of the numerous incarnations
necessary to our
evolution. From the time of Plato the majority of men have lived in
the
knowledge of this truth, and tomorrow they will dwell in scientific
certainty
that this ancient philosophy has not deceived them. (p. .)
He describes at considerable length some of the labours of M. de
Rochas upon the
regression of memory. M. Chevreuil explains that every subject
describes in the
same manner his or her going back to the past:
They are transported back to six months of age, two months, into
the body of the
mother, where they take the position of the foetus; the regression
is continued
and they are in space. A brief lethargy, and we are present at a
new scene, the
death of an old person. It is the beginning of the life which
preceded the
present incarnation, manifesting itself backwards, and continuing
back to a
still older incarnation. (p. .)
Considering the mode of the “spirit’s” coming to birth, M.
Chevreuil says that
the vision described is always the same, that before birth the
subject sees
himself in space in the form of a ball or as a slightly luminous
mist, and sees
in the mother’s womb the body in which he is to be incarnated; all
agree, he
adds, that the spiritual body enters little by little, and that the
complete
incorporation occurs at about seven years of age.
reincarnations in india and japan
Rao Bahadur Shyam Sundar Lal, C. I. E., a distinguished Minister of
the Gwalior
and Alwar States, has devoted many years to the study of
reincarnation. Among
the evidence collected by him is a case which was recounted as
follows in The
New York Times, September 16th, 1923:
Within the Maharajah of Bharatpur’s extensive territory was found a
boy of four
years, Prabhu by name, the son of a Brahman called Khairti, who
with childish
prattle and laughter told with the greatest detail of his supposed
former
existence. He gave his former name, the year of his other birth,
his personal
appearance on his earlier visit to this earth, and recounted
events, such as
famines, which had happened more than fifty years before his last
birth. He told
of his former wife, his daughters and his sons, giving their names
and the money
he received on their marriages, and described his former home and
neighbours.
The child, the savants vouch, had not been tutored and had no means
outside of
himself to learn of these details, or to know anything of the
transmigration of
souls. The neighbourhoods he described were visited by the savants,
with the
child, and in nearly every detail his statements were found to be
correct, even
to the names of his supposed former children and wife. He had some
difficulty in
locating his supposed former home, but this, it was claimed, may be
accounted
for by the fact that it is now a mass of ruins and much different
from what it
had been.
A somewhat similar account, but coming this time from Japan,
appears in Lafcadio
Hearn’s Gleanings in Buddha Fields, Chapter X, and is entitled “The
Rebirth of
Katsugoro”. Mr. Hearn cites it as a good illustration of the common
ideas of the
people of Japan concerning pre-existence and rebirth. He takes it
from a series
of documents, very much signed and sealed by various officials,
Priests and
Daimyos. The full story is translated as follows.
Some time in the eleventh month of the past year, when Katsugoro
was playing in
the rice-field with his elder sister, Fusa, he asked her, —
“Elder Sister, where did you come from before you were born into
our household?”
Fusa answered him: —
“How can I know what happened to me before I was born?”
Katsugoro looked surprised and exclaimed:
“Then you cannot remember anything that happened before you were
born?”
“Do you remember?” asked Fusa.
“Indeed I do,” replied Katsugoro. “I used to be the son of Kyubei
San of
Hodokubo, and my name was then Tozo — do you not know all that?”
“Ah!” said Fusa, “I shall tell father and mother about it.”
But Katsugoro at once began to cry, and said:
“Please do not tell! — it would not be good to tell father and
mother.”
Fusa made answer, after a little while :—
“Well, this time I shall not tell. But the next time that you do
anything
naughty, then I will tell.”
After that day whenever a dispute arose between the two, the sister
would
threaten the brother, saying: “Very well, then — I shall tell that
thing to
father and mother.” At these words the boy would always yield to
his sister.
This happened many times; and the parents one day overheard Fusa
making her
threat. Thinking Katsugoro must have been doing something wrong,
they desired to
know what the matter was, and Fusa, being questioned, told them the
truth. Then
Genzo and his wife, and Tsuya, the grandmother of Katsugoro,
thought it a very
strange thing. They called Katsugoro, therefore; and tried, first
by coaxing,
and then by threatening, to make him tell what he had meant by
those words.
After hesitation, Katsugoro said: — “I will tell you everything. I
used to be
the son of Kyubei San of Hodokubo, and the name of my mother then
was O-Shidzu
San. When I was five years old, Kyubei San died; and there came in
his place a
man called Hanshiro San, who loved me very much. But in the
following year, when
I was six years old, I died of smallpox. In the third year after
that I entered
mother’s honorable womb, and was born again.”
The parents and the grandmother of the boy wondered greatly at
hearing this, and
they decided to make all possible inquiry as to the man called
Hanshiro of
Hodokubo. But as they all had to work very hard every day to earn a
living, and
so could spare but little time for any other matter, they could not
at once
carry out their intention.
Now, Sei, the mother of Katsugoro, had nightly to suckle her little
daughter
Tsune, who was four years old; — and Katsugoro therefore slept with
his
grandmother, Tsuya. Sometimes he used to talk to her in bed; and
one night when
he was in a very confiding mood, she persuaded him to tell her what
happened at
the time when he had died. Then he said: — “Until I was four years
old I used to
remember everything; but since then I have become more and more
forgetful; and
now I forget many, many things. But I still remember that I died of
smallpox; I
remember that I was put into a jar; I remember that I was buried on
a hill.
There was a hole made in the ground; and the people let the jar
drop into that
hole. It fell pon! I remember that sound well. Then somehow I
returned to the
house, and I stopped on my own pillow there. In a short time some
old man —
looking like a grandfather — came and took me away. I do not know
who or what he
was. As I walked I went through empty air as if flying. I remember
it was
neither night nor day as we went; it was always like sunset-time. I
did not feel
either warm or cold or hungry. We went very far, I think; but still
I could hear
always, faintly, the voices of people talking at home; and the
sound of the
Nembutsu being said for me. I remember also that when the people at
home set
offerings of hot rice-cake before the household shrine, I inhaled
the vapour of
the offerings. Grandmother, never forgot to offer warm food to the
honorable
dead (Hotoke Same), and do not forget to give to priests — I am
sure it is very
good to do these things ... After that, I only remember that the
old man led me
by some roundabout way to this place — I remember we passed the
road beyond the
village. Then we came here, and he pointed to this house, and said
to me: ‘Now
you must be reborn, for it is three years since you died. You are
to be reborn
in that house. The person who will become your grandmother is very
kind; so it
will be well for you to be conceived and born there.’ After saying
this, the old
man went away. I remained a little time under the kaki-tree before
the entrance
of this house. Then I was going to enter when I heard talking
inside: some one
said that because father was now earning so little, mother would
have to go to
service in Yedo. I thought, “I will not go into that house”; and I
stopped three
days in the garden. On the third day it was decided that, after
all, mother
would not have to go to Yedo. The same night I passed into the
house through a
knot-hole in the sliding-shutters; — and after that I stayed for
three days
beside the kitchen range. Then I entered mother’s honorable womb
... I remember
that I was born without any pain at all. —Grandmother, you may
tell this to
father and mother, but please never tell it to anybody else.”
The grandmother told Genzo and his wife what Katsugoro had related
to her; and
after that the boy was not afraid to speak freely with his parents
on the
subject of his former existence, and would often say to them: “I
want to go to
Hodokubo. Please let me make a visit to the tomb of Kyubei San.”
Genzo ... asked
his mother Tsuya, on the twentieth day of the first month of this
year, to take
her grandson there.
Tsuya went with Katsugoro to Hodokubo; and when they entered the
village she
pointed to the nearer dwellings, and asked the boy, “Which house is
it? — is it
this house or that one?” “No,” answered Katsugoro, — “it is further
on — much
further,” — and he hurried before her. Reaching a certain dwelling
at last, he
cried, “This is the house!” — and ran in, without waiting for his
grandmother.
Tsuya followed him in, and asked the people there what was the name
of the owner
of the house. “Hanshiro,” one of them answered. She asked the name
of Hanshiro’s
wife. “Shidzu,” was the reply. Then she asked whether there had
ever been a son
called Tozo born in that house. “Yes,” was the answer; “but that
boy died
thirteen years ago, when he was six years old.”
Then for the first time Tsuya was convinced that Katsugoro had
spoken the truth;
and she could not help shedding tears. She related to the people of
the house
all that Katsugoro had told her about his remembrance of his former
birth. Then
Hanshiro and his wife wondered greatly. They caressed Katsugoro and
wept; and
they remarked that he was much handsomer now than he had been as
Tozo before
dying at the age of six. In the meantime, Katsugoro was looking all
about; and
seeing the roof of a tobacco shop opposite to the house of
Hanshiro, he pointed
to it, and said: “That used not to be there.” And he also said, —
“The tree
yonder used not to be there.” All this was true. So from the minds
of Hanshiro
and his wife every doubt departed.
reincarnations in burma
Some interesting cases are mentioned by Mr. H. Fielding-Hall in his
charming
book on Burma, The Soul of a People. He writes:
A friend of mine once put up for the night at a monastery far away
in the
forest, near a small village. Talking in the evening round the
fire, he remarked
that the monastery was very large and fine for so small a village;
it was built
of the best and straightest teak, which must have been brought from
very far
away; it must have taken a long time and a great deal of labour to
build.
In explanation he heard a curious story. It appeared that in the
old days there
used to be only a bamboo and grass monastery there, such as most
jungle villages
have; and the then monk was distressed at the smallness of his
abode and the
little accommodation there was for his school (for a monastery is
always a
school). So one rainy season he planted with great care a number of
teak
seedlings round about, and he watered and cared for them.
“When they are grown up,” he would say, “these teak-trees shall
provide timber
for a new and proper building; and I myself will return in another
life, and
with those trees I will build a monastery more worthy than this.”
Teak-trees take a hundred years to reach a mature size, and while
the trees were
still but saplings the monk died and another monk taught in his
stead. And so it
went on, and the years rolled by, and from time to time new
monasteries of
bamboo were built-and rebuilt, and the teak-trees grew bigger and
bigger. But
the village grew smaller, for the times were troubled, and the
village was far
away in the forest. So it happened that at last the village found
itself without
a monk at all; the last monk was dead, and no one came to take his
place.
It is a serious thing for a village to have no monk. To begin with,
there is no
one to teach the lads to read and write and do arithmetic; and
there is no one
to whom you can give offerings and thereby acquire merit, and there
is no one to
preach to you and tell you of the sacred teaching. So the village
was in a bad
way.
Then at last one evening, when the girls were all out at the well
drawing water,
they were surprised by the arrival of a monk from the forest, weary
with a long
journey, footsore and hungry. The villagers received him with
enthusiasm, and
furnished up the old monastery in a hurry for him to sleep. But the
curious
thing was that the monk seemed to know it all. He knew the
monastery and the
path to it, and the ways about the village, and the names of the
hills and the
streams. It seemed as though he must have lived there in the
village, and yet no
one knew him or recognized his face, though he was but a young man
still, and
there were villagers who had lived there for seventy years. Next
morning the
monk came into the village with his begging-bowl, as monks do, and
collected his
food for the day: and that evening, when the villagers went to see
him, he told
them he was going to stay. He recalled to them the monk who had
planted the
teak-trees, and how he had said that when the trees were grown he
would return.
“I,” said the young monk, “am he who planted these trees. Lo, they
are grown up
and I have returned, and now we will build a monastery as I said.”
When the villagers, doubting, questioned him, and old men came and
talked to him
of traditions of long-past days, he answered as one who knew all.
He told them
he had been born and educated far away in the South, and had grown
up not
knowing who he had been; then he had entered a monastery, and in
due time became
a Pongyi. The remembrance came to him, he went on, in a dream of
how he had
planted the trees and had promised to return to that village far
away in the
forest.
The very next day he had started, and travelled day after day and
week upon
week, till at length he had arrived, as they saw. So the villagers
were
convinced, and they set to work and cut down the great boles, and
built the
monastery which my friend saw. And the monk lived there all his
life, and taught
the children, and preached the marvellous teaching of the great
Buddha, till at
length his time came again and he returned; for of monks it is not
said that
they die, but that they return.....
About fifty years ago in a village called Okshitgon were born two
children, a
boy and a girl. They were born on the same day in neighbouring
houses, and they
grew up together and played together, and loved each other. In due
course they
married and started a family, and maintained themselves by
cultivating the
fields about the village. They were always known as devoted to each
other, and
they died as they had lived — together. The same death took them on
the same
day; so they were buried without the village and were forgotten,
for the times
were serious ... Okshitgon was in the midst of one of the most
distressed
districts, and many of its people fled; and one of them, a man
named Maung Kan,
went with his young wife to the village of Kabyu and lived there.
Now, Maung Kan’s wife had borne to him twin sons. They were born at
Okshitgon
shortly before their parents had to run away, and they were named,
the first
Maung Gyi (which means Brother Big-fellow) and the second Maung Ngé
(which means
Brother Little-fellow). These lads grew up at Kabyu, and soon
learnt to talk;
and their parents were surprised to hear them calling to each other
at play, not
as Maung Gyi and Maung Ngé, but as Maung San Nyein and Ma Gywin.
The latter is a
woman’s name, and the parents remembered that these were the names
of the man
and wife who had died at Okshitgon about the time the children were
born.
So the parents thought that the souls of the man and wife had
entered into the
children, and they took them to Okshitgon to try them. The children
knew
everything in Okshitgon; they knew the roads, the houses and the
people, and
they recognized the clothes they used to wear in the former life:
there was no
doubt about it. One of them, the younger, remembered how she had
borrowed two
rupees once from a woman, Ma Thet, unknown to her husband, and left
the debt
unpaid. Ma Thet was still living, so they asked her, and she
recollected that it
was true she had lent the money long ago....
Shortly afterwards I saw these two children. They were then just
over six years
old. The elder, into whom the soul of the man entered, is a fat,
chubby little
fellow, but the younger twin is smaller, and has a curious dreamy
look in his
face, more like a girl than a boy. They told me much about their
former lives.
After they died they said they lived for some time without a body
at all,
wandering in the air and hiding in the trees. Then, after some
months they were
born again as twin boys. “It used to be so clear,” said the elder
boy, “I could
remember everything; but it is getting duller and duller, and I
cannot now
remember as I used to do.”
Another little boy told me once that the way remembrance came to
him was by
seeing the silk he used to wear made into curtains, which are given
to the monks
and used as partitions in their monasteries, and as walls to
temporary erections
made at festival times. He was taken when some three years old to a
feast at the
making of the son of a wealthy merchant into a monk. There he
recognized in the
curtain walling in part of the bamboo building his old dress, and
pointed it out
at once.*
__________
· Op. cit., p. 291 et
seq.
Most of the examples of reincarnation given above are taken from
Oriental
countries — not because the great law of rebirth is operative only
in those
lands, but because for various reasons it is easier to trace its
action there.
The law is universal, but the interval between lives differs
widely. For some it
is a matter of many centuries; for others it may be only a few
months, or even
days. With the Burmese, as we have just seen from Mr. Fielding
Hall’s account,
very short intervals seem to be the rule, and the Burman evidently
has also the
peculiarity that he usually takes birth over and over again in the
same race
before transferring himself to another. These two habits of his are
specially
convenient for the student of reincarnation who, by researches
among that race,
can readily convince himself of the truth of the general principle
before
extending his inquiries into other fields where the investigation
is more
difficult.
There is plenty of testimony available of quite another kind, for
there are a
certain number of people who have a clear memory of at least some
of their own
former births; and it is sometimes possible for those who have
lived
simultaneously in the past to compare notes, and so obtain some
sort of
verification of their recollections. I remember once, years ago,
when I had
given a lecture upon reincarnation to an Indian audience, and asked
at the
conclusion of it for questions on any point which I had not made
quite clear, a
highly-cultured Indian gentleman rose, and with the utmost courtesy
said:
“Sir, this theory of reincarnation is familiar to us from
childhood; we all of
us begin by accepting it, and it is only when we grow up and absorb
your
European culture that we come to doubt it. Have you any objection
to telling us
how it happens that you, an Englishman, whose education and
surroundings must
have been so entirely different, are able to speak to us so
convincingly and
with such apparent certainty on this subject?”
I in my turn put a question to him: “Do you wish me to rehearse for
you the
stock arguments which show so conclusively that reincarnation is
the only
rational theory of life, the only hypothesis which enables us to
account in any
degree equitably for the conditions which we see around us? Or do
you want me to
unveil something of my own inner life, and give you my real
reason?”
He replied: “Sir, if I may venture to put so intimate, so almost
impertinent a
question (though I assure you that it is not asked impertinently)
it is
precisely that real inner reason that it would mean so much to me
to hear.”
Seeing how genuine and how serious was his query, I answered him
openly: “Very
well then,” I said, “I speak definitely and certainly about
reincarnation
because I know it to be a fact, because I can clearly remember a
large number of
my own past births, and in the case of some of them I have been
able to satisfy
myself by exterior evidence that my recollection is accurate. But
of course
that, however satisfactory to me, is no proof to you.”
He thanked me heartily, assuring me that that was exactly what he
had wanted to
hear.
-------Cardiff Theosophical Society in Wales-------
206 Newport Road, Cardiff, Wales, UK. CF24-1DL
Chapter XII
.
CONCLUSION
I have tried to describe the life on the other side of death just
as it is, just
as it is seen to be by those who, taking part in it (as we all do
every night of
our earthly lives) have unfolded within themselves the power to
remember clearly
what they see and do, so that to them it is familiar, simple,
straightforward —
part of their everyday existence. And I have gathered together from
many sources
a large number of illustrative cases, a vast amount of concurrent
testimony to
show you that the account I give is not a dream or a hallucination,
but a plain
statement of the facts as commonly experienced.
For those who are able to accept this, all fear of death should be
eradicated,
all grief for those whom we call the dead should automatically
cease. Yet so
strong is this ingrained habit of mourning, so firmly implanted
within us is
this hereditary, though baseless, sense of separation, that even
those who
intellectually grasp the truth, who fully believe all that is
written herein,
may at times find themselves slipping back under its influence into
that old and
harmful attitude of
despondency, of longing, of never-fading regret.
So sad is this, so injurious both to the living and the dead, that
I feel it my
duty to close this book with a final and urgent appeal to my
readers to raise
themselves once and forever above the possibility of any such
relapse, to take
their stand firmly in God’s sunlight, and never for a moment allow
it to be
obscured by man-made clouds of doubt or fear. To the man, then,
whose sky is
dark because one whom he loves deeply has left this physical world,
I would
address myself thus:
an earnest appeal
My brother, you have lost by death one whom you loved dearly — one
who perhaps
was all the world to you; and so to you that world seems empty, and
life no
longer worth the living. You feel that joy has left you for ever —
that
existence can be for you henceforth nothing but hopeless sadness —
naught but
one aching longing for “the touch of a vanished hand and the sound
of a voice
that is still”. You are thinking chiefly of yourself and your
intolerable loss;
but there is also another sorrow. Your grief is aggravated by your
uncertainty
as to the present condition of your beloved; you feel that he has
gone you know
not where. You hope earnestly that all is well with him, but when
you look
upward all is void; when you cry, there is no answer. And so
despair and doubt
overwhelm you, and make a cloud that hides from you the Sun which
never sets.
Your feeling is most natural; I who write understand it perfectly,
and my heart
is full of sympathy for all those who are afflicted as you are. But
I hope that
I can do more than sympathize; I hope that I can bring you help and
relief. Such
help and relief have come to thousands who were in your sad case.
Why should
they not come to you also?
You say: “How can there be relief or hope for me?”
There is the hope of relief for you because your sorrow is founded
on
misapprehension; you are grieving for something which has not
really happened.
When you understand the facts you will cease to grieve.
You answer: “My loss is a fact. How can you help me — unless,
indeed, you give
me back my dead?”
I understand your feeling perfectly; yet bear with me for awhile,
and try to
grasp three main propositions which I am about to put before you —
at first
merely as broad statements, and then in convincing detail.
Your loss is only an apparent fact — apparent from your point of
view. I want to
bring you to another view-point. Your suffering is the result of a
great
delusion — of ignorance of Nature’s law; let me help you on the
road towards
knowledge by explaining a few simple truths which you can study
further at your
leisure.
You need be under no uneasiness or uncertainty with regard to the
condition of
your loved one, for the life after death is no longer a mystery.
The world
beyond the grave exists under the same natural laws as this which we
know, and
has been explored and examined with scientific accuracy.
You must not mourn, for your mourning does harm to your loved one.
If you can
once open your mind to the truth, you will mourn no more.
Before you can understand your lost friend’s condition you must
understand your
own. Try to grasp the fact that you are an immortal being, immortal
because you
are divine in essence — because you are a spark from God’s own
Fire; that you
lived for ages before you put on this vesture which you call a
body, and that
you will live for ages after it has crumbled into dust. “God made
man to be an
image of His own eternity.” This is not a guess or a pious belief,
it is a
definite scientific fact, capable of proof, as you may see from the
literature
of the subject if you will take the trouble to read it. What you
have been
considering as your life is in truth only one day of your real life
as a soul,
and the same is true of your beloved; therefore, he is not dead —
it is only his
body that is cast aside.
Yet you must not, therefore, think of him as a mere bodiless
breath, as in any
way less himself than he was before. As St. Paul said long ago:
“There is a
natural body, and there is a spiritual body.” People misunderstand
that remark,
because they think of these bodies as successive, and do not
realize that we all
of us possess both of them even now. You, as you read this, have
both a
“natural” or physical body, which you can see, and another inner
body, which you
cannot see, that which St. Paul called the “spiritual”. And when
you lay aside
the physical, you still retain the other finer vehicle; you are
clothed in your
“spiritual body”. If we symbolize the physical body as an overcoat
or cloak, we
may think of this spiritual body as the ordinary house-coat which
the man wears
underneath that outer garment.
If that idea is by this time clear to you, let us advance another
step. It is
not only at what you call death that you doff that overcoat of
dense matter;
every night when you go to sleep you slip it off for awhile, and
roam about the
world in your spiritual body — invisible as far as this dense world
is
concerned, but clearly visible to those friends who happen to be
using their
spiritual bodies at the same time. For each body sees only that
which is on its
own level; your physical body sees only other physical bodies, your
spiritual
body sees only other spiritual bodies. When you resume your
overcoat — that is
to say, when you come back to your denser body. and wake up (or
down) to this
lower world — it occasionally happens that you have some recollection,
though
usually considerably distorted, of what you have seen when you were
away
elsewhere; and then you call it a vivid dream. Sleep, then, may be
described as
a kind of temporary death, the difference being that you do not
withdraw
yourself so entirely from your overcoat as to be unable to resume
it. It follows
that when you sleep, you enter the same condition as that into
which your
beloved has passed. What that condition is I will now proceed to
explain.
Many theories have been current as to the life after death — most
of them based
upon misunderstandings of ancient scriptures. At one time the
horrible dogma of
what was called everlasting punishment was almost universally
accepted in
Europe, though none but the hopelessly ignorant believe it now. It
was based
upon a mistranslation of certain words attributed to Christ, and it
was
maintained by the mediaeval monks as a convenient bogey with which
to frighten
the ignorant masses into well-doing. As the world advanced in
civilization, men
began to see that such a tenet was not only blasphemous, but
ridiculous. Modern
religionists have, therefore, replaced it by somewhat saner suggestions;
but
they are usually quite vague and far from the simplicity of the
truth.
All the Churches have complicated their doctrines because they
insisted upon
starting with an absurd and unfounded dogma of a cruel and angry
Deity who
wished to injure His people. They import this dreadful idea from
primitive
Judaism, instead of accepting the teaching of Christ that God is a
loving
Father. People who have grasped the fundamental fact that God is
Love, and that
His universe is governed by wise eternal laws, have begun to
realize that those
laws must be obeyed in the world beyond the grave just as much as
in this. But
even yet beliefs are vague. We are told of a far-away heaven, of a
day of
judgement in the remote future, but little information is given us
as to what
happens here and now. Those who teach do not even pretend to have
any personal
experience of after-death conditions. They tell us not what they
themselves
know, but only what they have heard from others. How can that
satisfy us?
The truth is that the day of blind belief is past; the era of
scientific
knowledge is with us, and we can no longer accept ideas unsustained
by reason
and common-sense. There is no reason why scientific methods should
not be
applied to the elucidation of problems which in earlier days were
left entirely
to religion; indeed, such methods have been applied by the
Theosophical Society
and the Society for Psychical Research; and it is the result of
those
investigations, made in a scientific spirit, that I wish to place
before you
now.
Let us consider the life which the dead are leading. In it there
are many and
great variations, but at least it is almost always happier than the
earth-life.
As an old scripture puts it: “The souls of the righteous are in the
hand of God,
and there shall no torment touch them. In the sight of the unwise
they seem to
die, and their departure is taken for misery, and their going from
us to be
utter destruction; but they are in peace.”* We must disabuse
ourselves of
antiquated theories; the dead man does not leap suddenly into an
impossible
heaven, nor does he fall into a still more impossible hell. There
is indeed no
hell in the old wicked sense of the word; and there is no hell
anywhere in any
sense except such as a man makes for himself. Try to understand
clearly that
death makes no change in the man; he does not suddenly become a
great saint or
angel, nor is he suddenly endowed with all the wisdom of the ages;
he is just
the same man the day after his death as he was the day before it,
with the same
emotions, the same disposition, the same intellectual development.
The only
difference is that he has lost the physical body.
__________
· Wisdom of Solomon,
iii, .
In this spiritual world no money is necessary, food and shelter are
no longer
needed, for its glory and its beauty are free to all its inhabitants
without
money and without price. In its rarefied matter, in the spiritual
body, a man
can move hither and thither as he will; if he loves the beauteous
landscape of
forest and sea and sky, he may visit at his pleasure all earth’s
fairest spots;
if he loves art he may spend the whole of his time in the
contemplation of the
masterpieces of all the greatest painters, and may himself produce
masterpieces
by the exercise of the wonderful magic of his thought-power; if he
be a
musician, he may pass from one to the other of the world’s chiefest
orchestras,
he may spend his time in listening to the most celebrated performers,
or with
the willing aid of the great Angels of music he may himself give
forth such
strains as are never heard on earth.
Whatever has been his particular delight on earth — his hobby, as
we should say
— he has now the fullest liberty to devote himself to it entirely
and to follow
it out to the utmost, provided only that its enjoyment is that of
the intellect
or of the higher emotions — that its gratification does not
necessitate the
possession of a physical body. Thus it will be seen at once that
all rational
and decent men are infinitely happier after death than before it,
for they have
ample time not only for pleasure, but for really satisfactory
progress along the
lines which interest them most.
Are there then none in that world who are unhappy? Yes, for that
life is
necessarily a sequel to this, and the man is in every respect the
same man as he
was before he left his body. If his enjoyments in this world were
low and
coarse, he will find himself unable in that world to gratify his
desires. A
drunkard will suffer from unquenchable thirst, having no longer a
body through
which it can be assuaged; the glutton will miss the pleasures of
the table; the
miser will no longer find gold for his gathering. The man who has
yielded
himself during earth-life to unworthy passions will find them still
gnawing at
his vitals. The sensualist still palpitates with cravings that can
never now be
satisfied; the jealous man is still torn by his jealousy, all the
more that he
can no longer interfere with the action of its object. Such people
as these
unquestionably do suffer — but only such as these, only those whose
proclivities
and passions have been coarse and physical in their nature. And
even they have
their fate absolutely in their own hands. They have but to conquer
these
inclinations, and they are at once free from the suffering which
such longings
entail. Remember always that there is no such thing as punishment;
there is only
the natural result of a definite cause; so that you have only to
remove the
cause and the effect ceases — not always immediately, but as soon
as the energy
of the cause is exhausted.
“Do the dead then see us?” it may be asked; “do they hear what we
say?”
Undoubtedly they see us in the sense that they are always conscious
of our
presence, that they know whether we are happy or miserable; but
they do not hear
the words that we say, nor are they conscious in detail of our
physical actions.
A moment’s thought will show us what are the limits of their power
to see. They
are inhabiting what we have called the “spiritual body” — a body
which exists in
ourselves, and is, as far as appearance goes, an exact duplicate of
the physical
body; but while we are awake our consciousness is focussed
exclusively in the
latter. We have already said that just as only physical matter
appeals to the
physical body, so only the matter of the spiritual world is
discernible by that
higher body. Therefore, what the dead man can see of us is only our
spiritual
body, which, however, he has no difficulty in recognizing.
When we are what we call asleep, our consciousness is using that
vehicle, and
so to the dead man we are awake; but when we transfer our consciousness
to the
physical body, it seems to the dead man that we fall asleep,
because though he
still sees us, we are no longer paying any attention to him to able
to
communicate with him. When a living-friend falls asleep we are
quite aware of
his presence, but for the moment we cannot communicate with him
unless we arouse
him. Precisely similar is the condition of the living man (while he
is awake) in
the eyes of the dead. Because we cannot usually remember in our
waking
consciousness what we have seen during sleep, we are under the
delusion that we
have lost our dead; but they are never under the delusion that they
have lost
us, because they can see us all the time. To them the only difference
is that
we are with them during the night and away from them during the
day; whereas,
when they were on earth with us, exactly the reverse was the case.
All life is evolving, for evolution is God’s law; and man grows
slowly and
steadily along with the rest. What is commonly called man’s life
is, in reality,
only one day of his true and longer life. Just as in this ordinary
life man
rises each morning, puts on his clothes, and goes forth to do his
daily work,
and then when night descends he lays aside those clothes and takes
his rest, and
then again on the following morning rises afresh to take up his
work at the
point where he left it — just so when the man comes into the
physical life he
puts upon him the vesture of the physical body, and when his
work-time is over
he lays aside that vesture again in what you call death, and passes
into the
more restful condition which I have described; and when that rest
is over he
puts upon himself once more the garment of the body, and goes forth
yet again to
begin a new day of physical life, taking up his evolution at the
point where he
left it. And this long life of his lasts until he attains that goal
of divinity
which God means him to attain.
One of the saddest cases of apparent loss is when a child passes
away from this
physical world and its parents are left to watch its empty place,
to miss its
loving prattle. What then happens to children in this strange new
spiritual
world? Of all those who enter it, they are perhaps the happiest and
the most
entirely and immediately at home. Remember that they do not lose
the parents,
the brothers, the sisters, the playmates whom they love; it is
simply that they
have them as companions during what we call the night instead of
the day; so
that they have no feeling of loss or separation.
During our day they are never left alone, for there as here,
children gather
together and play together — play in Elysian fields full of rare
delights. We
know how here a child enjoys “making believe”, pretending to be
this character
or that in history — playing the principal parts in all sorts of
wonderful fairy
stories or tales of adventure. In the finer matter of that higher
world thoughts
take to themselves visible form, and so the child who imagines
himself a certain
hero promptly takes on temporarily the actual appearance of that
hero. If he
wishes for an enchanted castle, his thought can build that
enchanted castle. If
he desires an army to command, at once that army is there. And so
among the dead
the hosts of children are always full of joy — indeed, often even
riotously
happy.
If you have been able to assimilate what I have already said, you
will now
understand that, however natural it may be for us to feel sorrow at
the death of
our relatives, that sorrow is an error and an evil, and we ought to
overcome it.
There is no need to sorrow for them, for they have passed into a
far wider and
happier life. If we sorrow for our own fancied separation from
them, we are, in
the first place, weeping over an illusion, for in truth they are
not separated
from us; and, secondly, we are acting selfishly, because we are
thinking more of
our own apparent loss than of their great and real gain. We must
strive to be
utterly unselfish, as indeed all love should be. We must think of
them and not
of ourselves — not of what we wish or we feel, but solely of what
is best for
them and most helpful to their progress.
If we mourn, if we yield to gloom and depression, we throw out from
ourselves a
heavy cloud which darkens the sky for them. Their very affection
for us, their
very sympathy for us, lay them open to this direful influence. We
can use the
power which that affection gives us to help them instead of
hindering them, if
we only will; but to do that requires courage and self-sacrifice. We
must forget
ourselves utterly in our earnest and loving desire to be of the
greatest
possible assistance to our dead. Every thought, every feeling of
ours influences
them; let us then take care that there shall be no thought which is
not broad
and helpful, ennobling and purifying.
If it is probable that they may be feeling some anxiety about us,
let us be
persistently cheerful, that we may assure them that they have no
need to feel
trouble on our account. If, during physical life, they have been
without
detailed and accurate information as to the life after death, let
us endeavour
at once to assimilate such information ourselves, and to pass it on
in our
nightly conversations with them. Since our thoughts and feelings
are so readily
mirrored in theirs, let us see to it that those thoughts and
feelings are always
elevating and encouraging. “If ye know these things, happy are ye
if ye do
them.”*
__________
· St. John, xiii, .
Not only should we abstain from mourning; we should go further than
that; we
should earnestly try to develop within ourselves positive
joyousness. It is the
duty of every man to be happy, that he may radiate happiness on
others; and most
especially is that true of those who have dear friends who have
recently passed
over into the higher life. The best anodyne for sorrow is active
work for
others; and that also is the surest way to peace and joy.
That great truth we can impress upon these friends of ours, if they
do not
already know it; for the opportunities for helpful work are greater
far in the
astral world than in the physical. Among the vast hosts of those
whom we call
the dead there are many who are bewildered by their surroundings,
many who
through erroneous religious teaching on earth are in a state of
painful
uncertainty and even acute terror, many who are causing themselves
unnecessary
suffering by perpetuating earthly desires and passions in that
higher life where
there is no assuagement for them. What occupation can be nobler and
happier than
to help these poor souls from darkness to light, to relieve their
sufferings, to
explain these things that puzzle them, and to guide their feet into
the way of
peace?
Into the splendid corps of Invisible Helpers who are ceaselessly
engaged in this
benevolent activity we can introduce our newly-arrived friends,
thus assuring
them of happy and useful work during the whole of their stay in
this wonderful
astral world which God has provided for the training and enjoyment
of His
people, even though it be but a stage on the way to that still
higher realm
whose glories eye hath not seen, neither hath it entered into the
heart of man
to conceive it.
Try to comprehend the unity of all; there is one God, and all are
one in Him. If
we can but bring home to ourselves the unity of that Eternal Love,
there will be
no more sorrow for us; for we shall realize, not for ourselves
alone, but also
for those whom we love, that whether we live or die, we are the
Lord’s, and that
in Him we live and move and have our being, whether it be in this
world or in
the world to come. The attitude of mourning is a faithless
attitude, an ignorant
attitude. The more we know, the more fully we shall trust, for we
shall feel
with utter certainty that we and our dead alike are in the hands of
perfect
Power and perfect Wisdom, directed by perfect Love.
__________
All taint of grief and mourning we firmly lay aside,
Our seeming loss forgetting, since they are glorified.
We know they stand before us and love us as of old;
God grant we may not fail them, nor let our love grow cold!
With heart and soul we trust Thee; Thy love no tongue can tell;
Thou art the All-Commander, Who doest all things well.
__________
peace to all beings
ODE TO THE LIVING DEAD
Loved ones! though our waking vision
Know your forms no more,
Earth’s illusion shall not hold us;
Well we know your loves enfold us
Even as before.
Death? ’Tis but a stepping forward —
No divorce at all;
Swifter than of old the meeting,
Warmer, heartier the greeting
When you hear our call.
And at night, when softest slumber
Seals these earthly eyes,
Lo, a new day dawneth brightly;
From our fetters slipping lightly
To your world we rise;
There to work and there to wander
In the sweet old way —
Drink of upper springs and nether,
Learn what Love hath knit together
Standeth fast for aye.
Praise and glory for this knowledge
To the One in Three;
For the sting from death is taken,
Nevermore are we forsaken
Through eternity.
D. W. M. Burn
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