Searchable Theosophical Texts
Theosophy House
Spiritualism and Theosophy
by
C
The
Secret Doctrine by H P Blavatsky
Return to Searchable Text Index
Spiritualism
and Theosophy
SCIENTIFICALLY
EXAMINED AND CAREFULLY DESCRIBED
BY C
THEOSOPHICAL PUBLISHING HOUSE
adyar,
madras,
1928
-------Cardiff Theosophical Society in Wales-------
206 Newport Road, Cardiff, Wales, UK. CF24-1DL
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.
-------
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
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.
-------
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
come
to investigate I usually find the
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
impressed
her that her child was born with only one hand, the other arm
bleeding.
The wife of a merchant of
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
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 (
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
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
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
Return to Searchable Text Index
Searchable Theosophical Texts
Theosophy House
Quick Explanations with Links to More Detailed Info
What is Theosophy ? Theosophy Defined (More Detail)
Three Fundamental Propositions Key Concepts of Theosophy
Cosmogenesis Anthropogenesis Root Races
Ascended Masters After Death States
The Seven Principles of Man Karma
Reincarnation Helena Petrovna Blavatsky
Colonel Henry Steel Olcott William Quan Judge
The Start of the Theosophical Society
History of the Theosophical Society
Theosophical Society Presidents
History of the Theosophical Society in Wales
The Three Objectives of the Theosophical
Society
Explanation of the Theosophical Society
Emblem
The Theosophical Order of Service (TOS)
Glossaries of Theosophical Terms
Index
of Searchable
Full
Text Versions of
Definitive
Theosophical
Works
H P Blavatsky’s Secret Doctrine
Isis Unveiled by H P Blavatsky
H P Blavatsky’s Esoteric Glossary
Mahatma Letters to A P Sinnett 1 - 25
A Modern Revival of Ancient Wisdom
(Selection of Articles by H P Blavatsky)
The Secret Doctrine – Volume 3
A compilation of H P Blavatsky’s
writings published after her death
Esoteric Christianity or the Lesser Mysteries
The Early Teachings of The Masters
A Collection of Fugitive Fragments
Fundamentals of the Esoteric Philosophy
Mystical,
Philosophical, Theosophical, Historical
and Scientific
Essays Selected from "The Theosophist"
Edited by George Robert Stow Mead
From Talks on the Path of Occultism - Vol. II
Obras
Teosoficas En Espanol
Theosophische
Schriften Auf Deutsch