FOOTNOTES:[34]John ix. 6.
[34]John ix. 6.
[34]John ix. 6.
CHAPTER XV.
THE PHENOMENA OF SPIRITISM.
If a Man die, shall he live again?—The Problem not solved by Spiritistic Phenomena.—The Phenomena admitted.—Their Supernatural Origin denied.—Explained by the Hypothesis.—Subsidiary Hypothesis.—An Intelligent Dynamic Force.—Its Characteristics.—Limited by Medium's Intelligence.—It is controlled by Suggestion.—Phenomena fail in Presence of Scepticism.—Reasons.—Mediumistic Frauds.—The Primary Lesson in Spiritistic Investigation.—Mediums not necessarily dishonest.—Their Honest Belief in the Phenomena.—Suggestion explains all.—Illustrations from Hypnotism.—Convincing Character of Alleged Communications.—Telepathic Explanations.—General Conclusions.
If a Man die, shall he live again?—The Problem not solved by Spiritistic Phenomena.—The Phenomena admitted.—Their Supernatural Origin denied.—Explained by the Hypothesis.—Subsidiary Hypothesis.—An Intelligent Dynamic Force.—Its Characteristics.—Limited by Medium's Intelligence.—It is controlled by Suggestion.—Phenomena fail in Presence of Scepticism.—Reasons.—Mediumistic Frauds.—The Primary Lesson in Spiritistic Investigation.—Mediums not necessarily dishonest.—Their Honest Belief in the Phenomena.—Suggestion explains all.—Illustrations from Hypnotism.—Convincing Character of Alleged Communications.—Telepathic Explanations.—General Conclusions.
Thenext subject which claims our attention in connection with the hypothesis under consideration is that of modern spiritism. It is approached with much diffidence and some misgivings, not because of any doubt as to the applicability of the hypothesis to the vast range of so-called spiritual phenomena, but because of the transcendent interest and importance of the subject to all mankind. It cannot be forgotten that millions of human beings base their hopes of a life beyond the grave upon their belief that in the phenomena of spiritism they have tangible evidence of the immortality of the soul, and that by means of such phenomena they can be put into communication with the spirits of the loved ones who have gone before. The fact cannot be ignored that there are millions of stricken hearts whose wounds have been healed by the consolation afforded by that conviction. The great question, "If a man die, shall he live again?" has been by these phenomena satisfactorily answered for many whom revealed religion failedto satisfy, for many whose reasoning powers have failed to grasp the logic of the theologian. It were an unwelcome task to throw a shade of doubt upon the validity of evidence which to many seems to be "confirmation strong as proofs of Holy Writ;" and if in the perusal of the following pages such doubt arises, the reader is begged to discriminate between the question of the validity of evidence and the question of fact. For, be it remembered, I shall not undertake to prove that the souls of men do not live after the death of the body. That question stands just where it has always stood. It is a problem which, outside of revelation, is no nearer a solution than it was when Job propounded the momentous question. Neither will I undertake to say that the spirits of the dead do not and cannot communicate with the living. I do not know. But I do undertake to say, and will attempt to prove, that the phenomena of spiritism, so-called, do not constitute valid evidence of the ability of spirits of the dead to hold intercourse with the living. In doing so, no attempt will be made to deny the phenomena of spiritism. On the contrary, I shall not only admit the possibility of every phenomenon alleged by any respectable number of reputable witnesses to have occurred, but I shall also assume the substantial accuracy of the general statements made by spiritists regarding the leading phenomena of spiritism. But I shall attempt to explain their origin on other grounds than the supposition that they are caused by the spirits of the dead. In other words, I admit the alleged phenomena, but deny the alleged cause.
I will not waste time, however, by attempting to prove by experiments of my own, or of others, that such phenomena do occur. It is too late for that. The facts are too well known to the civilized world to require proofs at this time. The man who denies the phenomena of spiritism to-day is not entitled to be called a sceptic, he is simply ignorant; and it would be a hopeless task to attempt to enlighten him. I shall indulge in the hope, however, that by explaining the origin of the phenomena on rationalprinciples, and thus removing them from the realm of the supernatural, those who now assume to be sceptical may be induced to investigate for themselves. It is easy to deny the existence of that for which we cannot account by reference to known laws, and it is easy to believe in that which can be thus explained. This is especially true in regard to phenomena which are popularly attributed to a supernatural origin. Modern scientists have an easy way of treating such phenomena, which consists in denying their existence and refusing to investigate. Such men would plug their own ears and deny the phenomenon of thunder if they could not account for it by reference to laws with which they are familiar. And such a proceeding would be no more senseless than, at this day, to deny the phenomena of spiritism.
In justice, however, to those scientists who have sought to investigate the subject, and have failed to witness the phenomena promised, it must be said that in many instances their failure is attributable, not to any fault of their own, or lack of earnest purpose on their part, but to a want of knowledge of the fundamental laws which pertain to the production of such phenomena. The reasons for the frequent failure to produce psychic phenomena in presence of avowed sceptics has been fully discussed in a previous chapter of this book, to which the reader is referred. But at the risk of repetition they will be restated in their proper place in this chapter, as they pertain to the subject of so-called spirit phenomena.
The laws which govern the production of the phenomena under consideration are precisely the same as those which pertain to all the other phenomena which have been discussed; and the fundamental propositions of our hypothesis apply with equal force to them all. Again, the reader is asked to recall those propositions, in order that their force and logical sequence may remain clear to his mind in this connection. They are:—
1. The mind of man is dual in its nature,—objective and subjective.
2. The subjective mind is constantly controlled by suggestion.
These two propositions would seem to have been so well established as to need no further elucidation at this time. The subsidiary proposition, which applies to the phenomena under consideration, is that,—
3. The subjective mind, or entity, possesses physical power; that is, the power to make itself heard and felt, and to move ponderable objects.
This may seem at first glance to be begging the question; but its truth must be assumed provisionally, for the sake of the argument which follows. It will readily be seen that if those three propositions can be established, all the physical phenomena of spiritism can be accounted for on the ground that living man possesses inherently the power to produce them. And this is the position which we must assume, for it appears to be the truth.
It must be acknowledged by all who have witnessed, under test conditions, any of the physical phenomena, that there is a dynamic force residing somewhere that is capable of moving ponderable objects without physical contact, and that this force, whatever it is, or from whatever source it emanates, possesses intelligence, oftentimes to a remarkable degree. Now, this intelligent force either emanates from the spirits of the dead, or it does not. If it does not, it necessarily follows that it emanates from the living. That this last supposition is the true one is evidenced by many of the characteristics of the intelligence which it manifests, among which the following are prominent:—
It is essentially a human intelligence, and neither rises above nor sinks below the ordinary intelligence of humanity.
The intelligence is always on a level with that of the medium through whom it manifests itself. That is, it never rises so far above that of the medium as to preclude the possibility of its having its origin in the medium's subjective mind. That it often rises above the medium's known objective intelligence, is well known and admitted. But we have already seen what remarkable powers the subjective mindpossesses in certain lines of intellectual activity, and with what limitations it is hedged about; and we find that the intellectual feats of mediums possess all the characteristics belonging to subjective intelligence,—the same wonderful powers, and the same limitations. That so-called spirit communications always correspond to the nature of the medium's mind and character, and are limited by his capacity, is admitted by all the ablest writers on spiritism; and their greatest ingenuity is taxed to account for the fact. Alleged communications from the greatest philosophers who have gone before, amount to the merest twaddle when filtered through an ignorant medium.
Again, we find that the intelligence is controllable by the power of suggestion. This is shown in the readiness with which "spirits" can be made to respond to calls made upon them, whether they have any real existence or not. It is well known that any one can as readily obtain a communication from an imaginary person as from a real one, from a living person as from the dead, providing the medium does not happen to know the facts. The writer has had frequent and very affectionate communications from an imaginary dead sister, and has occasionally had a very touching communication from himself, the medium believing the name to represent a dead brother. The fact that he never had either brother or sister made the communication all the more convincing.
This perfect amenability to control by suggestion is evinced in another most remarkable way. It is well known to every person who has been in the habit of attending spiritual séances how necessary it is that "harmonious conditions" should prevail. The very presence of an avowed sceptic will often prevent any manifestations. It frequently happens that some one present remarks, in a despairing tone, that he does not expect any manifestations, "because it always happens that when I am present no communications can be had." When such a remark is made, the chances are ten to one that the "spirits" will refuse to respond. Why this happens, spiritists have laboriously attempted to explain,but never satisfactorily, except to themselves. The fact that a spirit, possessing sufficient power to move a table, raise a piano to the ceiling, or levitate the medium, should be paralyzed in presence of one who does not believe in spirits, is simply inexplicable, except upon the one hypothesis, namely, that the power evoked is that of the subjective mind of the medium, which is amenable to control by the mysterious power of suggestion. It is inconceivable that the spirit of Napoleon Bonaparte, who, when living, swayed the destinies of nations, used kings and popes as his puppets, and led his hosts to successful battle against the combined armies of Europe, should, when dead, shrink, abashed and powerless, in presence of some one man who happens not to believe in spiritism. But it can be readily understood how a séance should prove a failure when we assume that the power that moves the table or writes the communications is exercised by the subjective intelligence of the medium, and that the presence of an avowed sceptic operates as an ever-present and all-potent suggestion that the promised manifestations are impossible in his presence. It is in strict accordance with the universal law of suggestion that such should be the result. It is this constant amenability to control by suggestion which always hampers mediums when they are giving test séances in the presence of sceptical investigators; and I undertake to say that no medium ever was, or ever can be, powerful enough to produce his phenomena under test conditions in presence of a hostile and aggressively sceptical investigating committee. It is no fault of the medium that this is the case, and it is no test whatever of the genuineness of his phenomena. But it is presumptive, if not conclusive, evidence that the source of his phenomena resides within himself, and hence is amenable to the universal law which governs the action of all subjective intelligence and power. Neither is it any reflection upon the sincerity of the investigator that he fails to witness the phenomena that have been promised. His ignorance of the law which governs the subject-matter, together with his desire to be frank and honest enough withthe medium to put him in possession of a knowledge of his sentiments and prejudices, leads him unwittingly to place an insuperable barrier in the way of success. It unfortunately happens that many professional mediums, despairing of success in producing the genuine phenomena, and more than ordinarily anxious to earn the reward of success, will, under such circumstances, resort to fraud and legerdemain. The temptation to do so is great when he reflects upon how much is at stake, the immediate monetary reward promised being the least consideration. His professional pride, his love of approbation, his hope of future fame and emolument in case he succeeds in convincing a sceptical scientific investigator,—all operate to constitute a temptation too great to be always successfully withstood. Besides, he knows that, under favorable conditions, he can produce the genuine phenomena, that he has produced them again and again, and he quiets his conscience by reflecting that it can do no harm to resort to legerdemain to simulate that which he knows to have a genuine existence.
In this connection it may be well to state what must already be obvious to the intelligent reader; namely, that the only way to secure the production of genuine phenomena is, first, to secure the confidence of the medium by assuming to be in hearty sympathy with him, and by giving him to understand that you thoroughly believe in his honesty and his power to produce genuine phenomena. Give him all the time he wants, and assure him that you are in no hurry; remembering always that quiet passivity and undisturbed serenity of mind on the part of a medium is an indispensable prerequisite to success, not only in producing the phenomena, but in entering the subjective condition. It is precisely the same in this respect as it is in hypnotism. The condition of the medium, when in a trance or partial trance, is precisely the condition of a hypnotized person, and he is subject to the same laws, and the same conditions are necessary and indispensable to his success. Every hypnotist knows that it would be madness to antagonize a hypnotic subject by suggesting to him in advance that he isan impostor, or that hypnotic phenomena are mere humbug, and then expect to hypnotize him and produce the phenomena. When investigators realize this one fact they will have taken the primary lesson in spiritistic investigation. Every one who understands the first principles of hypnotism knows what folly it would be to subject the science to the test of allowing a sceptical investigator to take a subject in hand and begin the operation of trying to hypnotize him by assuring him that hypnotism is imposture, and all subjects are mere pretenders. And yet one who investigates hypnotism in that way does, in effect, precisely what the sceptical investigator of spiritistic phenomena does when he avows his scepticism to the medium in advance. If investigators would observe the rule here suggested, and always endeavor to put the medium at his ease and accede to all the conditions prescribed by him, instead of insisting upon test conditions of their own devising, they would soon find that they would witness all the phenomena desired, and under conditions that preclude the possibility of fraud or legerdemain. Any other course almost of necessity defeats the object sought.
It will be seen, therefore, that a failure to produce phenomena at a given time does not necessarily indicate fraud on the part of the medium; and in strict justice to professional mediums, who as a class have been brought into disrepute by the fraudulent practices of some of their number, it must be said that the detection of a medium in fraudulent practices does notper seprove that he was consciously guilty; for it is an undoubted fact that when a medium is unconscious, and his subjective mind is in control, it often acts capriciously, and presumably fraudulent practices might be indulged in without the objective knowledge or consent of the medium. Therefore, until the laws governing the subject-matter are better understood, we should extend the broadest charity over the professional medium, except in cases where it is discovered that the paraphernalia necessary for the perpetration of fraud have been prepared by the medium in advance.
At this point the question will naturally be asked, "How can a medium, professional or otherwise, be entitled to credit for honesty, who represents himself as being able to hold communion with the spirits of the dead, or to be an instrument through which communications from spirits of the dead can be obtained, if, in point of fact, such communications have their origin wholly within his own personality?"
This is perhaps the most pertinent and the most far-reaching question that could be formulated in regard to the hypothesis under consideration. If it could not be fairly answered from a purely scientific standpoint, our hypothesis would not be worthy of further discussion; for it is simply impossible to presuppose that all the immense number of mediums, professional and private, who may be found in all ranks of society throughout the civilized world, are deliberately and consciously perpetrating a fraud upon mankind. On the contrary, I here take occasion to say that there is no system of religious belief which is so thoroughly fortified by facts as that of spiritism, when its phenomena are viewed from the standpoint of the investigator who is unacquainted with the latest scientific discoveries in the domain of experimental psychology. But with that knowledge in possession, the evidential value of the phenomena of spiritism is vastly depreciated, and the high character of the medium for truth and sincerity loses all its weight as a factor in the case.
The intelligent reader has already anticipated the answer to the foregoing question. It is simply this: that the subjective mind of the medium, being controlled by suggestion, believes itself to be the spirit of any deceased person whose name is suggested. It has been educated to that belief through the objective education and environment of the individual. It is, by the laws of its being, absolutely controlled by the objective belief of the medium, and the suggestions embraced in that belief. It is true that it often acts capriciously and independently, but it is always in pursuance of the auto-suggestion or belief of the mediumthat it is an extraneous and, therefore, an independent power.
No one who has witnessed even the stage exhibitions of the phenomena of hypnotism will doubt the substantial truth of this proposition. An intelligent subject can be made to assume any number of characters, diverse as the antipodes, and in each one he will imitate the original in thought, word, and action with perfect fidelity, so far as he knows the character, habits, and idiosyncrasies of the individual personated, firmly believing himself to be the individual he represents. He may, with the same facility, be transformed into an angel or a devil or an animal; and he will never doubt the truth of the suggestion, or fail to act the character suggested, so far as it is physically possible. These facts are well known to all hypnotists, as well as to all who witness the common stage exhibitions of the phenomena. Some stage hypnotists have much difficulty in preventing their subjects from exhibiting spiritistic phenomena on the platform. This was a common experience of Professor Cadwell, an American performer, who was himself a spiritist. When it became known to his audiences and subjects that the latter were liable to be "controlled by spirits," the trouble became very marked, and the professor was greatly annoyed by the frequency with which his subjects were seized upon by "passing spirits," and made to receive communications and perform other antics in the name of the spirits of their dead acquaintances. The phenomena exhibited through these subjects were identical with those shown through ordinary mediums, and indeed some of his best subjects afterwards became successful professional mediums. That the liability of the professor's subjects to lapse into mediumship was the result of suggestion is shown by the fact that Professor Carpenter, who was Cadwell's pupil, and operated by his methods, and was in every sense his peer as an operator, never had any trouble with mediumistic phenomena, for the simple reason that he was careful to avoid suggesting the idea to his subjects that such a thing was possible. In point of fact it is well known to many hypnotists that all the phenomena of spiritism can be reproduced through their subjects by simply suggesting to them that they are under the control of spirits. Of course it may be said that the spirits do actually take possession of a hypnotic subject when permitted to do so, and that it is the genuine control of spirits after all. The answer to this is that it is also just as easy to obtain communications from a living person through a hypnotic subject as from a dead one, and from an imaginary person as from a real one, by merely making the proper suggestion. The same is true of any medium, for that matter, as will presently be shown.
It is obvious, therefore, that the universal law of suggestion operates upon the subjective mind of a medium with the same force and certainty as upon all others. He is in the subjective, or hypnotic, condition. The suggestion that he is about to be controlled by the spirits of the dead is ever present to his mind, and is all potent. It is a part of his education. It is his religious belief. No other explanation of the mysterious phenomena is known to him. He knows only that he is moved by a power, an intelligence, over which he exerts no conscious control. It gives utterance to thoughts beyond his comprehension, and possesses knowledge of matters of which he consciously knows nothing. His conclusion is, first that the intelligence is something extraneous to his personality, and secondly that it must be that of an inhabitant of another world. From his standpoint it is the only rational conclusion. His hereditary belief in the immortality of the soul confirms it. His reading of the Bible sanctions the belief in the power of spirits to hold communion with the living. His hope of a life beyond the grave, and his longing to hold communion with the loved and lost, combine to give his conclusions a welcome reception in the chambers of his mind.
A more potent suggestion was never forced upon the subjective mind of man than this; and in obedience to the universal law, it must be believed by the medium's subjective mind, and acted upon accordingly. And the subjective minddoesbelieve the suggestion most implicitly. If it didnot, the law of suggestion would have no place in experimental psychology, and all the conclusions deducible therefrom would have to be revised. So believing, it follows that, when questioned, it will unhesitatingly affirm that it is the spirit of whatever person is suggested; and so far as the medium knows the character or antecedents of the spirit invoked, that spirit will be personated with all the preternatural acumen characteristic of subjective mental activity.
If the chain of reasoning by which the medium and his friends have arrived at the conclusion that the phenomena must proceed from disembodied spirits seems to them to be perfect, their conviction rises to the dignity of a certainty, in their estimation, when the supposed spirit begins to forward alleged communications from the hypothetical border-land of another world. They find that his alleged "control" is able to tell them secrets which they supposed to be safe in their own custody, or perhaps only known to themselves and the deceased whose spirit has been invoked. He will describe the character and personal appearance of deceased persons whom it was impossible that he should have known in life, sometimes even giving their names and ages; he will tell of incidents in their career known only to the person for whose benefit the communication is given.
If the sitter is sceptical, and has learned something of telepathy, his ready objection is that all this is "mind-reading." But presently the medium will describe some one of whom the sitter has not thought for years, who was utterly unknown to the medium, and of whom he never heard. It is then that the sitter is confounded. His telepathic explanation is exploded, for he "was not thinking of the deceased at all; it could not, therefore, be mind-reading," he declares, with all the enthusiasm of a new convert whose last objection has been answered.
There is no more common or popular explanation of certain phases of spiritistic phenomena than attributing them to mind-reading. When a medium relates to you incidents of your life of which you know he has no previous knowledge, the most obvious explanation is that he reads your mind,—that is, if you do not believe that he is controlled by spirits; and you are undoubtedly right. But when he tells you of things that you had forgotten, and describes persons of whom you are not thinking, you jump to the conclusion that thought-reading does not explain that particular phenomenon. And it is just here that you make a mistake, for the reason that you do not understand the first principles of mind-reading. But when it is once understood that mind-reading is the communion of two subjective minds, and that the objective or conscious thoughts of the sitter have no necessary effect upon the character of the communications, it will be seen that the fact that the sitter was not consciously thinking of the person described, or had forgotten the incident recalled, has no evidential value whatever. The sitter may or may not be thinking consciously of the subject of the communication; he may even be endeavoring to cause the medium to speak of some particular one with whom he earnestly desires to communicate. It makes no difference whatever, for it is the uppermost thought of the subjective mind that is read, and of that the sitter has neither knowledge nor conscious control. That the medium relates incidents of the sitter's life which he had forgotten until reminded of them, is not at all strange or unaccountable, when we remember that the memory of the subjective mind is perfect. Neither is there any evidential value in the fact that the sitter cannot remember an incident related by the medium; for he must remember that objective memory retains little, comparatively, of the incidents of life, while the subjective mind retains all.
It will thus be seen that in order to explain the phenomena of spiritism on the hypothesis that it has its origin wholly within the sub-conscious mind of the medium, it is not necessary to presuppose that he is dishonest or insincere when he attributes it to disembodied spirits. In the absence of knowledge on his part of the recent discoveries in psychological science, he has the best of reasons for so believing, for up to the present time no other hypothesis hasbeen advanced which will account for all the phenomena on any other rational supposition. But the two great laws—duality of mind and suggestion—clear away the greatest stumbling-block in the way of scientific investigation of this, the greatest problem of the ages. It is now no longer necessary to deny the phenomena, since they can all be accounted for on scientific principles, outside the domain of the supernatural. It is no longer necessary to consider the spiritual medium either a fool or an impostor, since the phenomena are genuine, and their explanation on scientific principles is impossible, except in the light of very recent discoveries in psychic science.
Having set forth the fundamental principles underlying the production of so-called spirit phenomena, we will now proceed briefly to examine their various phases and leading characteristics, and to show how the hypothesis under consideration applies to each of them with the same force and pertinency as in the case of the other psychic phenomena which have been considered.
CHAPTER XVI.
THE PHENOMENA OF SPIRITISM (continued).
Various Classes of Phenomena.—Clairvoyance.—Its Field not yet clearly defined.—Telepathy invades its Ancient Domain.—Simple Experiments in Telepathy.—Their Significance.—Telepathic Power in Mediums.—Telepathic Visions.—A Typical Séance.—Wonderful Exhibition of Telepathic Power.—An Affecting Interview of the Sitter with Himself.—Deductions.—Visions of Inanimate Things as well as of Deceased Persons.—Spirit of the Jack of Clubs.—Subjective Memory.—Spirit Identity.—Allan Kardec's Observations.—His Illogical Conclusions.—His Supreme Test.—Telepathic Explanation.—Four Ways of explaining his Test Case.
Various Classes of Phenomena.—Clairvoyance.—Its Field not yet clearly defined.—Telepathy invades its Ancient Domain.—Simple Experiments in Telepathy.—Their Significance.—Telepathic Power in Mediums.—Telepathic Visions.—A Typical Séance.—Wonderful Exhibition of Telepathic Power.—An Affecting Interview of the Sitter with Himself.—Deductions.—Visions of Inanimate Things as well as of Deceased Persons.—Spirit of the Jack of Clubs.—Subjective Memory.—Spirit Identity.—Allan Kardec's Observations.—His Illogical Conclusions.—His Supreme Test.—Telepathic Explanation.—Four Ways of explaining his Test Case.
Thereare several ways by which the operations of the subjective mind can be brought above the threshold of consciousness. When this is done by any one of the various methods, a phenomenon is produced. Each of these phenomena has been, at some time in the history of mankind, attributed to the agency of disembodied spirits.
The leading phenomena above alluded to are clairvoyance, clairaudience, telepathy, mesmerism, or hypnotism, automatic writing, percussive sounds (spirit-rapping), movement of ponderable bodies (table-tipping), and phantasmic appearances.
Of these, clairvoyance, telepathy, and hypnotism have generally ceased to be regarded as proceeding from supernatural agencies. They are now recognized as powers inherent in mankind, and, as will be seen, are largely employed to explain other phenomena.
Of clairvoyance little will be said, for the reason that it is still an open question among scientists who have been, and are still, investigating the subject, whether independent clairvoyance exists as a power of the human mind. Sufficient evidence has not been brought to my attention to demonstrate its existence. Certainly the great bulk of phenomena which are popularly regarded as evincing clairvoyant power must now be referred to telepathy. It must be said, however, that many phenomena have been produced which cannot at present be accounted for on any other hypothesis than that of independent clairvoyance. Yet it is not impossible that, when the laws of telepathy are better understood, all so-called clairvoyant phenomena may be referred to that agency. For the purposes of our argument, however, it is not specially important that the distinction should be clearly drawn between the two, inasmuch as telepathy, which is an undoubted power of the subjective mind, sufficiently explains all the so-called spiritistic phenomena involving the perception by the medium of facts not within his own experience or his previous knowledge. I will therefore first treat of those phenomena the mysteries of which are directly and primarily referable to telepathy.
A very simple experiment will enable almost any one to demonstrate telepathic power. Let a person be securely blindfolded, by taking a pair of kid gloves, folding them into pads, placing them over his eyes, and binding them on by means of a handkerchief. Then let a circle be formed by a few persons, with their hands joined, the percipient forming one of the circle. Let a card be selected at random from a pack, taking care that no one sees any other card of the pack, even for an instant, until the experiment is over. Then place the card in plain sight of all but the percipient, and let them fix their minds and gaze upon the card, and in silence await the result. In the mean time the percipient should be and remain in a perfectly passive and tranquil frame of mind, and simply watch for visions. He will soon begin to see indistinct objects floating in the darkness, andthese objects will presently begin to form themselves into shapes more distinct. They may be evanescent, and disappear at intervals; but they will soon return in still more definite form, and will eventually assume some shape that will suggest the card selected. It may be that a vision of the whole card will be presented, exactly as it is, or it may be that there will be a sort of allegorical representation of it. For instance, in an experiment tried in presence of the author the ten of diamonds had been selected. Instead of seeing a vision of the card, there was an appearance of ten real diamonds, arranged in rows corresponding to the rows of spots on the card, each one sending forth rays of light and scintillations of color. As it was the first experiment the percipient had ever tried, he was at a loss to know the meaning, if it had any, of the vision; but as it persisted in coming, he finally ventured to remark, hesitatingly, that he had an "impression of the ten of diamonds." The applause which followed told him that his subjective mind had conveyed to his consciousness by means of an allegorical vision the information it had telepathically received. It may here be remarked parenthetically that the subjective mind of man appears to be fond of allegory as a means of conveying its thoughts or information above the threshold of consciousness. The history of mankind is full of illustrations of this fact.
When the next card was selected, the percipient saw the vision of a single heart spot floating in the darkness, unattached to anything like a card; whereupon he ventured to name the ace of hearts, which was correct. In all, five cards were selected at this sitting, and each one was named correctly, with the exception of the last, which was the five of spades. The five of clubs was named; but the percipient explained his mistake by saying that one-half of each spot was concealed from his view, namely, the points of the spade spots, which appeared to be thrust into the darkness, so to speak, leaving only the handle end of the spades exposed to view. As that half of the spade spot corresponds exactly to the corresponding half of a club spot, the mistake was natural, and was really of as great, if not greater, evidential value than if the card had been correctly named.
Others of the company tried the same experiment, generally without physical contact with any one else, and each one was able to name some of the cards correctly. But no one was able to name correctly a card which was not seen by some one else,—which showed clearly that the power to see the card resulted from telepathy, and not from independent clairvoyance. It should be here stated that there were six in the company, each one of whom tried the experiment, and each scored a sufficient number of successes to remove the result from the domain of coincidence.
These experiments were as simple as could well be devised, and to the unreflecting mind may seem trifling. But I shall endeavor to show that they possess unmeasured significance.
Before proceeding to do so, it may be well to state that visions resulting from telepathic communion are as varied as is the character of the communicants or the subjects of the messages. They are often seen by the percipient as plainly as the objective reality could be seen; and events are depicted by means of visions that re-enact the scenes, with all the characters and actors represented, as perfectly as the reality itself.[35]
It now remains to show how this faculty of reading the minds of others is unconsciously employed by spirit mediums to impart to their clients information regarding persons and events of which the medium has no previous knowledge.
We will consider, for this purpose, the case of a medium who develops no physical phenomena, but who simply receives his visitor, tells him of the events of his past life, describes his spirit-friends, conveys oral communications from them, and occasionally drops into prophecy. The visitor may or may not be a professed believer in spiritism; but the fact that he is there to consult a medium shows a faith sufficient for the purpose in view, and propinquity places his subjective minden rapportwith that of the medium. We will suppose that this is the first time that the two have met, and that the medium is entirely unacquainted with the character, the antecedents, or the deceased friends of the sitter. The first thing that the medium does is to become wholly or partially self-hypnotized. He may go into the state only partially, and appear to the visitor to be in his normal condition. He may, and probably does, believe that his "control" takes possession of his body and talks through him; he has, as we have already seen, every reason for this belief. He is taken possession of by some unseen force, is guided by some unseen intelligence which possesses powers and attributes of which he is not conscious in his normal condition. He has no other hypothesis to account for the extraordinary manifestations of which that intelligence is the source. To make assurance doubly sure, the intelligence tells him that it is the spirit of some deceased person, and gives him a detailed and very plausible account of itself. He is forced to believe the statements of his subjective entity, for he knows no reason for believing otherwise, and it, in turn, is compelled by the laws of its being to believe itself to be what it represents; for the suggestion has been made to it that it is the spirit of a deceased person. That suggestion having been made in a general way, to begin with, his subjective mind will proceed to fill in the details in some way with marvellous acumen, and with such logical circumstantiality of detail as to deceive "the very elect." It is just as it is in the case of a hypnotized person, who, in pursuance of a post-hypnotic suggestion, having done some absurd act, when questioned as to why he did it, will, on the instant, invent some reason so plausible that the act will seem perfectly natural to one who does not know its origin.
Again, the subjective mind of the sitter is also controlled by a suggestion, more or less strong, that spirits of the deadare about to be invoked; and it is also ready with its logical deductions from the premises suggested, and will perform its part in the séance with the same alacrity and acumen. Here, then, we have two subjective mindsen rapport, and the telepathic conditions for a successful séance are established. The shrewd and successful medium usually begins by making some very complimentary remarks concerning the character and mental attributes of the sitter. This puts the latter at his ease, and gives him an exalted opinion of the good sense and judgment of the medium. Some incidents of the sitter's life may then be related, and his occupation indicated. It will generally be done in terms such as indicate the fact that the medium obtains his impressions by means of visions. For instance, the writer once heard a medium in New York city describe the occupation of an examiner in the United States Patent Office. The two had never met before, and did not know of each other's existence ten minutes before the séance. Even the name of the sitter had been withheld from the medium, for the purpose of testing her telepathic powers, and for the further purpose of convincing one of those present that spirits of the dead had nothing to do with the manifestations. The members of the party introduced each other by fictitious names, and talked spiritism to the medium until "harmonious conditions" were established, when the séance began. "I see an immense building," she began, "with a great number of rooms in it. In one of these rooms I see you, seated at a large desk, with a great many papers upon it. I see drawings, apparently of machinery, spread out upon the desk before you. It seems to me that you must have something to do with patent rights." She was informed that her conjecture was thus far correct. It should here be remembered that a medium should always be encouraged by a frank acknowledgment when he is correct. It encourages him, puts him at his ease, and constitutes a suggestion that he is able to perceive the truth in reference to that particular person; and, consequently, helps him to proceed correctly with other manifestations.
"But," continued the lady, "this is not your only occupation. I see you in your library at home, surrounded by books and manuscripts. You appear to be writing a book."
She then went on to describe correctly all the bookcases and other furniture in the room, and then said,—
"I see the pathway by which you have arrived at your present conclusion in reference to the subject of your book. It is all strewn with rubbish and weeds, all of which you have thrown aside. But you see a great light ahead, and are pursuing that with perfect confidence and steadiness of purpose."
"Am I in the right path?" inquired the examiner.
"I cannot tell, for I cannot perceive the subject on which you are writing. I think you are, however, for the light ahead seems so clear."
After a pause she added,—
"You are making one mistake. You think that you are doing it all yourself. But you are not. You are constantly guided by a great spirit."
"Who is he?" was asked, with all the greater interest because the gentlemanwaswriting a book, and, like every other author, felt that he had perceived "a great light;" moreover, if he was sure of anything connected with it, he was sure that he was doing it himself, without the aid of any spirit or spirits. "Give me the name of my spirit friend and guide," he added.
"I cannot do that to-day," she replied, with the true commercial instinct of the professional medium; "come to-morrow, and I will try to give you the name."
Accordingly, the same party visited her the next day, when she made every effort to obtain the name, but without success. It should be stated here that the lady was a slate-writing medium. Communication after communication was written, but without signature, and all efforts to obtain the name were futile. Finally the gentleman said, in an aside apparently not intended for the ears of the medium, "I think I know who it is. It must be eitherA B [naming a living friend in Washington], or my brother, C D [giving his own name]," for he had no brother, living or dead. Immediately a communication was written out, signed by the supposed spirit brother, announcing the fact that he, and he alone, was the inspiring power in charge of the literary work named, that he was the "guardian spirit" of the gentleman, over whom he was "constantly watching," etc.
The emotions created by the affecting terms of the communication can be imagined when it is stated that all present, save the medium, knew that the name was that of the sitter, and that he never had a brother. But these emotions quickly gave place to wonder and admiration when it was discovered that the signature was an almost exact reproduction of his own, with all its salient peculiarities faithfully reproduced.
Comment upon this wonderful admixture of genuine telepathic power and conscious or unconscious fraud will not be indulged in, save to remark that the first day's proceedings exhibited marvellous telepathic power under the most perfect test conditions. As to the second day's performance, it need only be said that if the communication had been from a genuine spirit, struggling in vain to remember his own name, it shows that even spirits are controlled by the subtle power of suggestion; for he had no hesitation in assuming the name of the sitter when that name was suggested, and he so completely identified himself with that person as to reproduce his signature with marvellous accuracy. It may be said that a fraud was perpetrated upon the medium. To this the plea of guilty must be entered, together with a plea of extenuating circumstances, in that it was done in pursuit of scientific truth. Whether the interests of truth were subserved, the reader must judge for himself. To that end he must ask himself the question whether it is not more probable that this manifestation was of the subjective entity of the medium rather than of an independent, disembodied spirit. Conceding the inherent power in mankind to convey and receive telepathic communications,it must be evident that telepathy is a sufficient explanation of what occurred the first day. It is true that the medium thought that the information thus obtained was conveyed to her by disembodied spirits. But that does not change the facts; and when a phenomenon is explicable by reference to known natural laws, we have neither occasion nor logical right to seek an explanation in the realm of the supernatural. The second day's performance is as easily explicable under the well-known laws of hypnotism. The medium was in a partially hypnotic state, her subjective mind was active and in control of her physical powers, and was necessarily perfectly amenable to control by suggestion from any source. In obedience to the law of auto-suggestion, it believed itself to be a disembodied spirit. It acted in that capacity far enough to write communications of the standard, indefinite character common to such productions, but could give no name, for the simple reason that there was no name to give, and none had been suggested. But the instant a name was suggested it seized upon it, and, in pursuance of the suggestion that it represented the sitter's brother, wrote just such a communication as the logic of the situation dictated, believing, without a doubt, that it was actually the spirit of the deceased brother of the sitter. It may be asked why, if the medium was possessed of such wonderful telepathic power, did she not perceive the fact that she was being imposed upon, that the sitter was not sincere in his professions of a belief in spiritism, and that he had not a brother in the spirit-land. Simply because she was controlled by the universal law of suggestion, and the oral suggestions had been made that he was a believer, and that he had a brother deceased. If she had disbelieved the statement, it would have constituted an exception to the operation of a natural and universal law,—a suspension, in fact, of the laws of nature.
On the other hand, if we are to discard the foregoing explanation and hold that it was actually a disembodied spirit controlling the medium, we must presuppose a spirit without a name, or without sufficient intelligence to rememberhis name. Either supposition, if it does no violence to common-sense, is contrary to all the teachings of spiritists, who have led us to believe that the law of spirit-life is that of eternal progress; that all truth stands revealed to the perception of the disembodied soul. It would cause one to lose confidence in his guardian angels if he were forced to believe that a short residence in the spirit-land could reduce the immortal mind to such a state of imbecility.
This digression is indulged in for the purpose of illustrating the fact that one of the means by which telepathic impressions are conveyed from one to another is by visions. The percipient sees a vision representing the incident sought to be communicated by the agent. He sees the image of the object or person which the agent desires him to see. Thus, when a person consults a medium he generally expects and desires to learn something of his deceased friends. The medium goes into the subjective condition for that purpose. The visitor's mind is full of anticipation and hope that he will be put into direct communication with the loved and lost. Presently the medium sees a vision of some person. He believes that he sees a spirit. He describes it, and it is found to correspond with one of the visitor's deceased friends. The visitor recognizes the description, and says so. He asks for the name, and it is given. Then the medium sees a vision representing some incident known only to the visitor and the deceased. He describes the incident, not, perhaps, as a vision which he sees, but as a statement of fact imparted to him by the spirit. The visitor very likely knows that the medium knew nothing of him or of the deceased before that hour. He is convinced that the medium has seen and conversed with the spirit of his dead friend, and he is a convert to spiritism from that moment. Now, has the medium actually seen a spirit, or has he merely read the sitter's subjective mind? Is there any more reason for supposing that he has seen a spirit of a dead man than there is for supposing that a mind-reader sees the spirit of the Jack of clubs when the image of that card is telepathedto him? Obviously not. The conditions are precisely the same in both cases. The percipient sees the image of that which is in the mind of the agent. In the one case, it is a card; in the other it is an individual. If it is the spirit of the individual that is seen in the one case, it is the spirit of the card that is seen in the other. In the case of the New York medium, did she see the spirit of the Patent Office, the spirits of the papers, the drawings, the desks, and the spirit of the examiner seated at the spirit of one of the desks, examining the spirits of the drawings and of the specifications?
I repeat it, the percipient sees the image of that which is in the mind of the agent, and he never sees more than that. It often happens that the image of some one is seen, of whom the agent is not consciously thinking at the moment. This has been already explained, on the obvious ground that it is the subjective, or unconscious, mind of the agent that is read. It sometimes happens that some fact is related, some scene described, which the sitter cannot recall to mind, and he conscientiously declares that he never knew the fact related, nor witnessed the incident depicted. But when it is remembered that the subjective mind of man retains all that he has ever seen, heard, or read, and that he retains comparatively little in his objective recollection, it is extremely unsafe for him to declare that any one fact has never been known to him. It is merely negative evidence at best, and amounts only to a declaration that he does not recall the fact. When we consider how little we retain, in our objective recollection, of what we have seen, heard, or read, we may well wonder that it does not oftener happen that so-called spirits tell us of circumstances which we do not remember. On the whole, it may be safely assumed that no medium has ever yet been able to impart any information that is not known either to the medium or to some living person with whom he isen rapport. There is certainly nothing but the merest negative evidence, such as has been described, that such a thing ever happened. On the other hand, there is the strongest possible evidence to the contrary, in the fact that there is room for a doubt on that question. It is self-evident that if facts, known neither to the medium nor those surrounding him,—that is, facts not known to him nor obtainable by means of telepathy,—can be perceived or obtained by him from independent sources, the evidence of that fact would be thrust upon us from ten thousand different sources every hour. This is also negative evidence, it is true, but it is all but conclusive. Thus, the question of spirit identity has given spiritists no end of trouble. Their ablest writers have sought in vain for a solution of the question why it is that spirits constantly fail to give conclusive evidence of their identity by means which could not be referred to the knowledge of the medium or to telepathy.
On this subject Allan Kardec, one of the ablest writers on the subject, discourses as follows:—
"The identity of contemporaneous spirits is much more easily proved,—those whose character and habits are known; for it is precisely these habits, which they have not yet had time to throw aside, by which they can be recognized."[36]
"The identity of contemporaneous spirits is much more easily proved,—those whose character and habits are known; for it is precisely these habits, which they have not yet had time to throw aside, by which they can be recognized."[36]
This may be true; but it is also true that where the "character and habits" of a supposed spirit are known to the medium, or to those who are in telepathic rapport with him, simulation of that character and those habits is perfectly easy to the expert medium. The more generally the character and habits are known, the less evidential value is to be attached to their reproduction.
Our author then proceeds:—
"Without doubt the spirit can give the proofs if asked, but he does not always do so, unless it is agreeable to him, and generally the asking wounds him; for this reason it should be avoided. In leaving his body the spirit has not laid aside his susceptibility; he is wounded by any question tending to put him to the proof.It is such questions as one would not dare to propose to him, were he living, for fear of overstepping the bounds of propriety; why, then, should there be less regard after his death? Should a man enter a drawing-room and decline to give his name, should we insist, at all hazards, that he should prove his identity by exhibiting his titles, under the pretext that there are impostors? Would he not, assuredly, have the right to remind his interrogator of the rules of good breeding? This is what the spirits do, either by not replying or by withdrawing. Let us make a comparison. Suppose the astronomer Arago during his life had presented himself in a house where no one knew him, and he had been thus addressed; 'You say you are Arago; but as we do not know you, please prove it by answering our questions; solve this astronomical problem; tell us your name, your Christian name, those of your children, what you did such and such a day, at such an hour, etc.' What would he have answered? Well, as a spirit he will do just what he would have done during his lifetime; and other spirits do the same."
"Without doubt the spirit can give the proofs if asked, but he does not always do so, unless it is agreeable to him, and generally the asking wounds him; for this reason it should be avoided. In leaving his body the spirit has not laid aside his susceptibility; he is wounded by any question tending to put him to the proof.It is such questions as one would not dare to propose to him, were he living, for fear of overstepping the bounds of propriety; why, then, should there be less regard after his death? Should a man enter a drawing-room and decline to give his name, should we insist, at all hazards, that he should prove his identity by exhibiting his titles, under the pretext that there are impostors? Would he not, assuredly, have the right to remind his interrogator of the rules of good breeding? This is what the spirits do, either by not replying or by withdrawing. Let us make a comparison. Suppose the astronomer Arago during his life had presented himself in a house where no one knew him, and he had been thus addressed; 'You say you are Arago; but as we do not know you, please prove it by answering our questions; solve this astronomical problem; tell us your name, your Christian name, those of your children, what you did such and such a day, at such an hour, etc.' What would he have answered? Well, as a spirit he will do just what he would have done during his lifetime; and other spirits do the same."
The above is considered the best reason that can be given for the fact that spirits whose character and habits in life are not generally known, or not known to the medium or to those surrounding him, invariably refuse to give proofs of their identity. But is his comparison pertinent? I think not. It might be considered impertinent, nay, the very height of ill-breeding, if one should insist on proofs of identity when a stranger is casually introduced, or introduces himself, in a drawing-room. But let us make another comparison. Suppose a stranger—we, too, will say Arago the astronomer—calls us up by telephone, and makes a statement of the most transcendent interest and importance to us,—a statement which, if true, will change the whole course of our lives and our habits of thought. He states that his special mission is to make this portentous announcement to us, and that his name is Arago, the astronomer. We know Arago the astronomer by reputation, but have never had the honor of his personal acquaintance. We know enough of him, however, to be certain that he would tell us the exact truth as he understood it; and we would stake our dearest interests upon a statement of his regarding that about which he professed to have positive personal knowledge. Under such circumstances would it be likely to wound his feelings or shock his sense of propriety if we should reply through the telephone something like this:—
"Sir, your message is of portentous import to us, and we cannot hesitate to believe it if we can be assured that you are Arago the astronomer, as you represent. We can hear you, but we cannot see you, and you are not vouched for by any one we know. Please give us some proof of your identity."
Would Arago the astronomer, or any other sensible man, wrap himself in the mantle of offended dignity and treat us with silent contempt, or remind us of "the rules of good-breeding"? Certainly not, especially if the object of his existence was to make the communication, not only for our individual benefit, but for the purpose of giving to all mankind that direct and positive assurance, that tangible evidence, for which all humanity has sought in vain since the dawn of creation.
Our author then continues:—
"While spirits refuse to answer puerile and impertinent questions which a person would have hesitated to ask during their lives, they often spontaneously give irrefutable proofs of their identity by their character, revealed in their language, by the use of words that were familiar to them, by citing certain facts,—particularities of their life sometimes unknown to the assistants, and whose truth has been verified. Proofs of identity will spring up in many unforeseen ways, which do not present themselves at first sight, but in the course of conversations. It is better, then, to wait for them, without calling for them, observing with care all that may flow from the nature of the communications. (See the fact given, No. 70.)"
"While spirits refuse to answer puerile and impertinent questions which a person would have hesitated to ask during their lives, they often spontaneously give irrefutable proofs of their identity by their character, revealed in their language, by the use of words that were familiar to them, by citing certain facts,—particularities of their life sometimes unknown to the assistants, and whose truth has been verified. Proofs of identity will spring up in many unforeseen ways, which do not present themselves at first sight, but in the course of conversations. It is better, then, to wait for them, without calling for them, observing with care all that may flow from the nature of the communications. (See the fact given, No. 70.)"
Turning now to page 82 of the volume, we find the statement above alluded to, and it reads as follows:—
"On a vessel of the Imperial French navy, stationed in the Chinese seas, the whole crew, from the sailors up to the staff-major, were occupied in making tables talk. They hit upon the idea of invoking the spirit of a lieutenant of this same vessel, some two years dead. He came, and after various communications, which astonished every one, he said, by rapping, what follows: 'I pray you instantly to pay the captain the sum of (hementioned the sum), which I owe him, and which I regret not having been able to repay before my death.' No one knew the fact; the captain himself had forgotten the debt,—a very small one; but on looking over his accounts, he found there the lieutenant's debt, the sum indicated being perfectly correct. We ask, of whose thought could this be the reflection?"
"On a vessel of the Imperial French navy, stationed in the Chinese seas, the whole crew, from the sailors up to the staff-major, were occupied in making tables talk. They hit upon the idea of invoking the spirit of a lieutenant of this same vessel, some two years dead. He came, and after various communications, which astonished every one, he said, by rapping, what follows: 'I pray you instantly to pay the captain the sum of (hementioned the sum), which I owe him, and which I regret not having been able to repay before my death.' No one knew the fact; the captain himself had forgotten the debt,—a very small one; but on looking over his accounts, he found there the lieutenant's debt, the sum indicated being perfectly correct. We ask, of whose thought could this be the reflection?"
Here, then, we find the supreme test applied,—the best conditions possible, as prescribed by one of the ablest and most thoughtful writers on the subject. It will be observed that he is not blind to the possibilities of telepathy, and counts it as a factor in the case. "Of whose thought could this be the reflection?" he asks triumphantly. "No one knew the fact; the captain himself had forgotten the debt." It must be admitted that if this test is conclusive, their case has been proved a thousand times over. But in view of what is now known of the laws of telepathy, it is self-evident that it proves nothing. Telepathy, as we have again and again repeated, is the communion of two or more subjective minds. It is not that of which we are consciously thinking that the subjective mind of the medium perceives. Doubtless the captain had forgotten, objectively, all about the loan. It was a very small amount, and the lieutenant had been dead two years. But the subjective mind of the captain, which remembers all things, great and small, could not forget it, and it was telepathed to the subjective mind of the medium. Besides, there was another very potent agency at work to bring this loan into prominence. We have already seen, in former chapters, that the normal function of the subjective mind is to watch over and protect the life of the individual. It is the strongest instinct of all animate nature. The protection of the material interests of the individual is as much a part of the function of the subjective mind as the protection of his life. Indeed, the promotion of the one is but a means to secure the other. It was, therefore, simple obedience to the first law of nature that prompted the subjective mind of the captain to thrust this loan upon the attention of those present and thus secure its payment.
It may be said, however, that there was no evidence that the captain was present at the séance; and it may be assumed by some that telepathic communion with his mind was impossible in his absence from the circle. The former supposition is possibly correct, but the latter is not probable, in view of the well-known facts of telepathy. But assuming both to be true,—that the captain was absent from the immediate circle, and that the circumstance would prevent telepathic communion with his mind,—there still remain two or three other ways of accounting for the phenomenon. In the first place, it is extremely probable that the captain's accounts were kept by a subordinate, who was present, and who, subjectively at least, remembered the account. It is distinctly stated that all the subordinates were present, "from the sailors up to the staff-major." This would necessarily include the one whose duty it was to keep the books. His subjective mind would be just as available as that of the captain for the production of what, in those days, was considered a test case. Again, supposing that the entry of the account was made by the captain's hand, it is extremely probable that some one else had access to the books; and however superficially the knowledge was impressed upon his consciousness, it was forever fixed upon the tablets of his subjective memory, and was instantly available for use when a test case was needed. To those who regard independent clairvoyance as an established principle, or faculty, of the human mind, the explanation is easy; for there would be no difficulty in supposing the mind of the independent clairvoyant to be capable of taking cognizance of all that was to be found in the ship's records.
It is extremely improbable, however, that any third party figured in the transaction, or that it is necessary to assume that any third party knew of the loan. It is sufficient to know that the captain was aboard the ship, and that everyone on the vessel was necessarilyen rapportwith him. Besides, if any one in the circle was in telepathic rapport with the captain, it would be an all-sufficient explanation of the phenomenon; for it is well known that specific information, not known to any one in the circle, can be obtained from some one having the knowledge who happens to been rapportwith any person in the circle.
Thus it will be seen that there are at least four ways of accounting for the phenomenon, on well-established principles, without the necessity of resorting to the assumption of supernatural agencies.
The subtlerôlewhich telepathy plays in so-called spirit manifestations must now be apparent. It is not only in the class of phenomena to which we have alluded that its power is manifest, but it reappears in all classes and phases of phenomena popularly attributed to spirits. The greater part of the mystery which surrounds these manifestations, aside from the purely physical phenomena, is directly traceable to telepathy; and it explains that which, without its aid, would be inexplicable on any other hypothesis than that the manifestations proceed from disembodied spirits.
In concluding the discussion of this branch of the subject, I desire distinctly to impress upon the mind of the reader an important proposition which seems to have been lost sight of by many who are otherwise inclined to give full credit to telepathy as a means of explaining many so-called spirit phenomena. It is this:—
It is not necessary that any member of a circle should be in possession of objective knowledge of a fact in order to be able to communicate it telepathically to the medium.
The reason will be obvious, after a moment's reflection, to any one who admits the existence of the power of telepathy. If the power is possessed by A to communicate a telepathic message to B, it follows that B can communicate the same message to C, and C can convey it to D, and so on,ad infinitum. This proposition will not be gainsaid by any one who admits that A can convey a telepathic message to B. D may have no objective knowledge of A or of B, but isen rapportwith C. Now, we will suppose that a disaster happens to A. He is missing; he is drowned; but no one possesses any objective knowledge of the fact, and his friends institute a vain search, noone having the remotest idea of what has happened to him. B, his mother, receives a telepathic message, conveyed by A at the moment of his death to her subjective mind, informing her of the sad accident. But not being sensitive to subjective impressions, it is impossible for her subjective mind to convey the message above the threshold of her consciousness. She is, therefore, objectively ignorant of the fact, although her subjective mind is fully cognizant of all its sad details. In the mean time, C, a sympathetic neighbor,en rapportwith B, subjectively perceives that which is so strongly impressed upon the subjective mind of the mother. C is also unable to elevate the knowledge above the threshold of her consciousness; but she is a believer in spiritism, and volunteers to visit a neighboring city and consult a medium. She does so; and the moment she becomesen rapportwith the medium, the telepathic message is delivered, and the medium perceives, objectively as well as subjectively, the details of the disaster which befell A. He describes the whole transaction, and locates the exact spot where the body may be found. Subsequent investigation demonstrates the exact knowledge possessed by the medium, for the whole environment is found to be exactly as described, and the body is found in the very spot indicated.
Now, the spiritists say that this occurrence cannot be explained by reference to telepathy, for the reason that D was noten rapportwith A, nor with B. Nor was Cen rapportwith A, for the latter was dead before C could have become cognizant of the facts. The obvious answer to this is, as before indicated, that if the power exists in man to convey a telepathic message to his fellow-man, it presupposes the existence of the power in the percipient to repeat the message to a third person, and so on indefinitely, until some one receives it who has the power to elevate the information above the threshold of his consciousness, and thus convey it to the objective intelligence of the world. Nor is the element of time necessarily an adverse factor in the case; for there is no reason tosuppose that such messages may not be transmitted from one to another for generations. Thus, the particulars of a tragedy might be revealed many years after the event, and in such a way as to render it difficult, if not impossible, to trace the line through which the intelligence was transmitted. For the spiritist the easy and ever-ready explanation of such a phenomenon is to ascribe it to the intervention of spirits of the dead. But to those who have kept pace with the developments of modern scientific investigation, and who are able to draw the legitimate and necessary conclusions from the facts discovered, the explanation is obvious, without the necessity of entering the domain of the supernatural.