FOOTNOTES:

FOOTNOTES:[38]Eliphas Levi: Waite's Digest, p. 118.

[38]Eliphas Levi: Waite's Digest, p. 118.

CHAPTER XXI.

SUSPENDED ANIMATION AND PREMATURE BURIAL.

Facts of Startling Import.—The Case of Washington Irving Bishop.—Other Instances of Suspended Animation.—Vampirism.—Catalepsy.—East Indian Fakirs buried alive for Months.—Fundamental Errors.—Catalepsy not a Disease.—A Recuperative Agent.—The Law of Suggestion governs the Phenomena.—Subjective Insensibility impossible.—Suggestion of Death deepens the Lethargy.—The Appalling Dangers of Catalepsy.—The Proper Treatment.

Thereis another psychic phenomenon which deserves a passing notice at our hands, not only because it is governed by the same laws which have been discussed, but because it is a matter of transcendent practical interest and importance. I refer to the subject of suspended animation, and consequent premature burial.

I know of but one physician in this country who has given serious attention to this subject. Nothing in authoritative form has yet appeared from his pen, but I am credibly informed that he has collected an array of facts of veritable significance. One assertion of startling import is that in the United States an average of not less than one case a week is discovered and reported. This statement alone attests the importance of the subject, although due allowance must be made for possible exaggeration. Be that as it may, the appalling possibility of premature burial as a result of a condition so common as catalepsy, the psychic aspects of which are so little understood in this country, invests the subject with more than ordinary interest.

The following cases have been personally investigated by the writer, and serve to illustrate the dangers which menace the cataleptic subject. Names are omitted, at the request of the parties interested.

The first case is that of a young lady, near Indianapolis, who came to life after fourteen days of suspended animation. Six doctors had applied the usual tests, and pronounced her dead. Her little brother clung to her, against the opinion of the doctors and the will of the parents, and frantically declared that she was not dead. In the excitement the bandage which held her jaw in place was accidentally pushed aside. The jaw fell, and the brother fancied that he saw his sister's tongue moving slowly.

"What do you want, sister?" cried the little fellow.

"Water," was the faint answer from the supposed corpse.

Water was administered, the patient revived, and is yet living.

A lady who is now at the head of one of the largest orphan asylums of a Western city has been twice pronounced dead by the attending physicians, twice prepared for the grave, and twice resuscitated by her friends. On the last occasion extraordinary precautions were taken, in view of her former experience. All the tests known to her physicians were applied, and all doubts were set at rest. She was a second time professionally declared to be dead, and the physicians left the house. In preparing the body for burial it was accidentally pricked by a pin. Soon afterwards it was discovered that a small drop of blood marked the spot where the pin entered. This once more roused the hope of the family, and vigorous treatment soon restored her to consciousness. She is living to-day, a vigorous, useful woman. It is proper to note here that upon being restored, the lady declared that she had never for a moment lost consciousness, that she knew all that went on around her, perfectly comprehended the significance of all the tests which were applied, but felt the utmost indifference as to the result, and was neither surprised nor alarmed when it was decided that she was dead.

A few years ago, a gentleman of Harrisburg, Pa., apparently died after a long period of suffering from inflammatory rheumatism, complicated with heart trouble. Preparations were made for the funeral; but his wife refused to allow the body to be packed in ice, fearing the possibility of a premature burial, and announced her determination to keep it for at least a week. The next day her hopes were realized by finding her husband with his eyes wide open, and one of his arms out of the position in which it had been placed. She called loudly for him to arise, and with assistance he did so, and was placed in a chair. Physicians were summoned, but before their arrival he was so far recovered that their aid was unnecessary, and he soon recovered from his illness. He states that during the time of suspended animation he was perfectly cognizant of all that occurred around him, heard the lamentations of the stricken family and the preparations for burial, but was unable to move a muscle or utter a sound.

The reading public has not forgotten the death of Washington Irving Bishop, the celebrated mind-reader, which occurred under circumstances that called forth the declaration on the part of his friends and relatives that he was not dead before the surgeon's knife penetrated his brain; that on several previous occasions he had been in a cataleptic state, resembling death, for many hours at a time; and that on one of these occasions his attending physicians had pronounced him dead. The public will not soon forget the thrill of horror which was felt when it was learned with what unseemly haste an autopsy was performed upon that unfortunate man.

These are not exceptional cases, nor is the phenomenon of modern origin. It can be traced back through all the ages of which there are records preserved, until it is lost in the twilight of tradition and fable.

In all human probability the ancient belief in vampirism had its origin in discovered cases of suspended animation. It will be remembered that whenever a corpse was suspected of being a vampire, the grave was opened and the body wasexamined. If it showed no signs of decomposition, the fact was held to be indubitable evidence of guilt. The punishment was summary, and fully as effective as a modern autopsy; it consisted in driving a stake through the heart. This simple process effectually laid the "vampire ghost," and it no longer possessed the power to "suck the blood of the living," and thus "continue to live on in the grave," to use the language of an ancient official document defining the characteristics of a vampire.

Revolting and gross as was the superstition relating to vampirism, is it not possible that, like most legendary tales, it had a basis of truth, and that an essential part of that truth consisted, as before remarked, of the fact that the cases referred to were cases of suspended animation? Many cases are reported which appear to be well authenticated, and they all seem to sustain this theory. One case (which was officially attested) is related, where the body of a man suspected of vampirism was exhumed after it had lain in the grave three weeks. No signs of decomposition being visible, a stake was driven through the heart, "upon which," says the report, "fresh blood gushed from the mouth and ears."

Another case is mentioned of one Arnold Paul, a Hungarian, whose body was exhumed after it had been buried forty days. "His body," says the narrator, "was red; his hair, nails, and beard had grown again, and his veins were replete with fluid blood." The stake was brought into requisition, and as it pierced his heart, he "uttered a frightful shriek, as if he had been alive."

Two erroneous impressions very generally prevail regarding catalepsy, or suspended animation. One is that depriving the subject of air will cause death in a few hours. Another is that catalepsy is a disease, or is always the result of disease. Both of these hypotheses are clearly disproved by the well-known experiments of the East Indian fakirs.

One of the most clearly attested instances of the kind alluded to is the experiment of the Fakir of Lahore, who, atthe instance of Runjeet Singh, suffered himself to be buried alive in an air-tight vault for a period of six weeks. This case was thoroughly authenticated by Sir Claude Wade, the then British Resident at the court of Loodhiana. The fakir's nostrils and ears were first filled with wax; he was then placed in a linen bag, then deposited in a wooden box which was securely locked, and the box was deposited in a brick vault which was carefully plastered up with mortar and sealed with the Rajah's seal. A guard of British soldiers was then detailed to watch the vault day and night. At the end of the prescribed time the vault was opened in the presence of Sir Claude and Runjeet Singh, and the fakir was restored to consciousness.

Lieutenant Boileau relates another instance where a man suffered himself to be buried for a period of ten days in a grave lined with masonry and covered with a large slab of stone, the whole strictly guarded day and night. On being restored to consciousness, the man offered to submit to burial for a year, if the lieutenant so desired.

Many other well-authenticated instances are related by British residents in India, but these must suffice. In all these cases the subjects were in perfect health when the experiments were made, and in each instance the body, when disinterred, was found to present all the characteristics indicating death, except decomposition.

Volumes might be filled with well-authenticated cases of suspended animation, varying in duration from a few hours to many months; but it would be foreign to the purpose of this chapter to cite any. Sufficient instances have been given to illustrate the points which I shall attempt to make, as well as to show the intrinsic importance of the subject and the danger to be apprehended from ignorance of the psychic principles involved.

The fundamental error into which many physicians have fallen consists in the assumption that catalepsy is,per se, a disease. It must be said, however, to the credit of the profession, that no one pretends to understand it. Most medical writers confess that if it is a disease, it is one of whichthe pathology is but little understood by the profession, and they aver that morbid anatomy throws no light upon it whatever. In fact, some well-known writers have doubted its existence, and have attributed the recorded cases to gross imposture. It is, however, generally held to be a functional nervous disorder; but the tendency of modern investigation is in the direction of its psychic aspects, and moral means are now largely employed in its treatment by the best physicians.

The truth appears to be that catalepsy is not a disease in any proper sense of the word. The most that can be said is that it may be considered a symptom of certain diseases. That is to say, inasmuch as it commonly attacks those who are suffering from certain nervous disorders, it might be said to be a symptom indicating the presence of such disorders. But, I repeat, it is not a diseaseper se; and one prominent medical authority goes so far as to admit that "in itself catalepsy is never fatal." He might have gone further, and said that other diseases are rarely fatal when catalepsy supervenes.

Catalepsy belongs exclusively to the domain of hypnotism. I employ this term in the broadest significance of its Greek radix; for no matter how the condition is induced, it is purely a sleep of the objective senses, a suspension of the vital functions, a rest of all the vital organs. It can be induced in perfectly healthy persons by the hypnotic processes on the one hand, or, on the other, it may supervene after a long period of illness or nervous exhaustion. In both cases the phenomenon is the same; and when the patient is intelligently treated, the effect is always salutary. It is, in the highest sense of the phrase, a manifestation of thevis conservatrix naturæ; it is, of a truth, "tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep."

Catalepsy is always easily induced in a hypnotic subject by the ordinary processes known to hypnotists, and the normal condition is as easily restored. It is always refreshing to the subject, especially when he is exhausted by mental or physical labor,—far more so than is ordinary sleep of thesame duration. The same is true of the catalepsy which supervenes after a long period of illness or of nervous exhaustion. That this statement is true of the first class, we have the testimony of all who have been subjects of intelligent experiment. That it is true of the second class also, is attested by the fact that suspended animation is nearly always followed by the recovery of the patient from illness. The cataleptic condition marks the crisis in many diseases, especially those of the nerves. If the patient is properly managed during that crisis, his convalescence is assured.

Catalepsy may properly be divided into four classes, differing from one another only in the causes which induce the condition. The first is catalepsy from hypnotic suggestion; the second, epidemic catalepsy; the third, self-induced catalepsy; the fourth, catalepsy arising from disease or nervous exhaustion. Suggestion is the all-potent factor in the production of the catalepsy of the first three classes, as it is in the production of all other hypnotic phenomena. The suggestion may come, first, from an operator who purposely induces the condition as an experiment. Secondly, it may arise from the patient seeing other cataleptic subjects. In such cases, catalepsy may run through a whole school or a neighborhood, precisely as does epidemic insanity, St. Vitus's dance, and many other nervous troubles. "Imitation," or the disposition to imitate, has generally been assigned as the cause of such manifestations becoming epidemic among children. But this is a palpable error. It arises rather from the fear that each one feels—the mental suggestion that each one makes—that he or she may be the next victim. Thirdly, self-induced catalepsy is illustrated in the experiments of the East Indian fakirs, and arises from auto-suggestion. In these cases the condition is purely hypnotic, and is self-induced by simple processes, well known to all who have made an intelligent study of hypnotism as practised in the Orient.

It is not, however, with these classes that we have to deal in this chapter, but rather with cases which arise from disease or nervous exhaustion. In such cases, suggestion can hardly be considered as an initial cause, although, as we shall see further on, it is a potent factor in deepening, prolonging, and terminating the condition.

I have said that catalepsy marks the crisis in certain diseases. It is, in fact, the supreme effort of nature to give the exhausted nerves their needed rest. When this fact is once appreciated, and the patient is intelligently treated on its basis, much needless alarm will be saved, and many fatal errors will be avoided. The patient in that condition is enjoying absolute rest. All the vital processes are practically suspended. He is free from all pain, and is enjoying a refreshing sleep,—a sleep so profound that it may be truly likened to its "twin-brother, death." The depth and duration of the trance will depend upon the necessities of the case. That is to say, it will be proportioned to the severity of the patient's illness, and his consequent need of rest and recuperation.

The primary mistake which many physicians make in managing cataleptic patients consists in seeking, by heroic treatment, to hasten restoration to consciousness. No greater mistake is possible. If the attempt is successful, it causes a fearful shock to the nerves, and the effort is thwarted which nature is making to relieve the patient and give rest to his already overstrained nervous system. If it is unsuccessful, the patient is threatened with the danger of being buried alive, or of an autopsy. These dangers are ever present; and as long as physicians fail to recognize the pregnant fact that an advanced stage of decomposition is the only infallible test of death, just so long will the human race be menaced with the horrors of premature burial.

The most important branch, however, of the subject of catalepsy is that pertaining to its psychological features. I have said that catalepsy belongs to the domain of hypnotism. I mean by this, not only that the phenomenon is identical with the condition which can be produced by the ordinary hypnotic processes, but that the cataleptic patientis amenable to precisely the same psychological laws which govern the ordinary hypnotic subject.

The two fundamental propositions which bear upon this subject are the following:—

First, a patient in a case of suspended animation or catalepsy, induced by disease or nervous exhaustion, is amenable to control by suggestion precisely as he is in the ordinary hypnotic state.

Second, a patient in that condition is always conscious, subjectively, of all that happens around him. That is to say, no matter how profoundly the objective senses are locked in slumber, the subjective faculties are ever alert, and the subject recognizes, often with great acuteness, everything that goes on around him. This fact is not always recognized by hypnotists, and it is safe to say that ignorance of this one truth has been the source of more erroneous conclusions regarding the significance of hypnotic phenomena than all other causes combined. Hundreds of cases are reported where the patients noted all the preparations for burial and all that was said and done, and yet were unable to move or make the fact known that they were alive. This seems to be the universal testimony, although it is possible that the patient might not, in all cases, remember what he had experienced. In fact, it is common for hypnotic subjects to forget their experiences during the sleep; but that does not militate against the fact that they were subjectively conscious at that time.

The conclusions derivable from these premises are as important as they are obvious. The first and most vital is that when a patient is suffering from a disease which will induce catalepsy, and begins to enter that state, the usual remarks and conversation of those at the bedside must inevitably tend to deepen and prolong the lethargy. The patient appears to be dying. The friends, by word and action, are conveying the impression that death is at hand. The physician feels the pulse, which grows fainter and fainter, until it is no longer perceptible. He examines the heart until its pulsations cease. Finally, he turns to thestricken friends, and in a solemn voice announces that all is over,—the patient is dead. Now, if it happens that it is merely a case of catalepsy, or suspended animation, the announcement by the physician that the patient is dead is an all-potent suggestion which is, and must inevitably be, seized upon by the subject and carried to its legitimate conclusion. A case of prolonged suspension of animation is the inevitable result, as the laws of hypnotism teach, if they teach anything. The patient actually believes that he is dead. The statement of this proposition seems almost ridiculous; but when it is remembered that no suggestion seems absurd or incongruous to the hypnotic subject, the proposition is seen at once to be an absolute verity. Who has not dreamed of being dead? Few, if any, have not had this experience; and yet the incongruity of the two ideas—of being dead and of calmly reflecting on the subject—never strikes the dreamer's subjective intelligence. Subjective impressions never seem absurd or incongruous to the subject. This principle runs through all subjective mental action, from the dreams of the healthy sleeper to the hallucinations of the monomaniac. Subjective intelligence, be it remembered, is capable of exercising but one form of reasoning,—the deductive. But it will reason deductively from any premise imparted to it, by any form of suggestion, with great acumen; and it never arrives at a conclusion inconsistent with the premise,—that is, the suggestion. All the facts known to the individual's objective experience which are inconsistent with that premise stand for nought in presence of the one ever-present idea. That idea is the major premise, unquestioned and indisputable, of a syllogism which he will inevitably complete with logical accuracy.

It is easy to see from what has been said what an appalling, ever-present danger menaces the patient who, from any cause, becomes cataleptic, especially the one who has reached the crisis of a lingering illness, and is surrounded by physicians and friends who are ignorant of the psychological principles involved. The natural language of theemotions of the surviving friends, the wail of hopeless grief, the administration of the sacraments of the Church, and, finally, the authoritative announcement of the doctor that "He is dead!" all tend to the one result. When to these are added the ice-pack or the embalmer's fluid, it remains only for the performance of an autopsy to give thecoup de grâce.

I shall not attempt to apply the principles here laid down to particular cases. Those who are cognizant of the circumstances of any case, either recorded or within their own private experience, will easily recognize their significance. Nor shall I attempt to prescribe the specific course to be pursued where suspended animation is suspected, as that is the province of the physician in attendance on each particular case. My object will have been accomplished if what I have said shall be the means of directing the attention of the medical profession to the psychic aspects of catalepsy, and to a more careful study of the psychology of that science which has suffered so much at the hands of charlatanism on the one hand, and prejudice on the other,—hypnotism.

Nevertheless, a few general observations regarding the proper course to be pursued may not seem impertinent. It is obvious that when catalepsy is suspected, or is possible, all allusion to or suggestion of death should be avoided, especially by the physician in attendance. It should not for a moment be forgotten that, however profoundly the objective senses may be locked in insensibility, subjectively the patient is awake and is taking cognizance of all that occurs, and appreciates with wonderful, acuteness the significance of every word that is uttered. It should be remembered that since suggestion can induce catalepsy, it can also deepen and prolong the period of its duration. Conversely, it is the most potent means of restoration. Other restoratives should rarely, if ever, be resorted to. Violent means should never be employed. The essential thing is a cheerful, confident demeanor in all present at the bedside. Time should always be given for theconservative forces and recuperative powers of nature to do their legitimate work, and in due season the patient, who "is not dead, but sleepeth," will awake; or, in obedience to suggestion, will "arise and come forth," saved from the jaws of death,—rescued from the horrors of a living grave.

CHAPTER XXII.

PRACTICAL CONCLUSIONS AND SUGGESTIONS.

The Normal Relations of the Objective and Subjective Faculties.—Their Distinctive Powers and Functions.—The Infinite Wisdom displayed in their Distribution.—It constitutes Man a Free Moral Agent.—Limitation of Subjective Powers and Responsibilities in this Life.—The Kinship of the Soul to God.—The Limitation of the Powers of the Objective Mind.—The Transcendent Powers of the Soul.—Errors of the Old Philosophers.—The Normal Functions of the Soul in Earthly Life.—Dangers of Abnormal Exercise of Subjective Power.—Nervous Disorders, Insanity, Imbecility, and Moral Degradation.—The Importance of a Knowledge of the Law of Suggestion.—Dangers of Mediumship.—Trance-speakers.—Immoral Tendency of Ignorant Mediumship.—Tendency towards Free Love.—The Causes.—The Orientalists.—Their Greater Powers and their Greater Facilities for Self-delusion.—Practical Conclusions.—Warnings.

Ihave now presented the propositions of my hypothesis, together with a brief outline showing its applicability to the leading psychic phenomena; and it remains only to draw a few practical conclusions which apply to every-day life. The first, and the most obviously important one, relates to the exercise of subjective power, and the normal relations of the objective and subjective faculties. In order to do so clearly and concisely, it will be necessary to recall the terms of the hypothesis.

The first proposition is that the mind of man is dual in character. This proposition, as we have already stated, has been more or less dimly recognized by many philosophers in all ages; and during the present century it has been gradually assuming a more definite status in mental philosophy. Assuming, therefore, this proposition to betrue, it necessarily follows that the two minds must, normally, bear a harmonious relation to each other. It follows that one of the two minds must, normally, be subordinated to the other. Otherwise there would be a conflict. Just here Liébault's discovery of the law of suggestion comes in, and shows that the subjective mind is constantly controlled by that power. It is true that Liébault and his followers have applied the law only to the elucidation of hypnotic phenomena; and in that have not always carried it to its legitimate conclusion. But it has seemed to me that if the law is applicable to one class of psychic phenomena, it must be equally applicable to all, as nature's laws admit of no exceptions. I have therefore declared, as the second proposition of my hypothesis, that the subjective mind is always controllable by suggestion.

Assuming, therefore, that these two propositions are true, it follows as a necessary consequence that there must be some distinctive line of difference between the methods of operation of the two minds. It is obvious that there is a limitation of power in the subjective mind, otherwise it could not be subordinated to the objective. Just where this line of distinction could be drawn, and how it could be formulated, was at first a perplexing question. There were no authorities on the subject who ever hinted at a possible limitation of reasoning power in either branch of the dual mind. On the contrary, those who have observed the phenomena of subjective mental activity, as seen in hypnotic subjects, in trance-speakers, and cognate exhibitions, have been so profoundly impressed with its transcendent powers that it has seemed impossible that it could be hedged about by limitations. Philosophers from time immemorial have recognized its tremendous powers of memory, and millions have sat entranced by the eloquence of subjective speakers, and noted with profound admiration their accuracy of logical deduction. So impressed has the world been by such exhibitions that the soul has been held up as the infallible guide to all that is pure and noble and good in humanity. It has been called the Ego(which it truly is), and as such it has been recognized as the inward monitor, whose monitions are always entitled to reverential consideration. It was difficult, therefore, to imagine any line of distinction between the two branches of the dual mind which would place the subjective in a subordinate position. But for the discovery of Liébault's law of suggestion that line would never have been recognized. It now becomes evident, however, that the point of its limitation of reasoning power is the starting-point. It has not the power to formulate its own premises. The subsidiary proposition of our general hypothesis is, therefore, thatthe subjective mind is incapable of inductive reasoning. It will readily be seen that it is a corollary of the law of suggestion; but the three propositions together furnish the key to the whole science of psychology.

I am aware that those who have hitherto regarded the soul as possessing all the intellectual powers, as well as all the moral attributes, will be shocked when they realize that the object of their admiration is hedged about with any limitations whatever. The first question they will ask is, "Why is it that God has given to man a soul possessing such transcendent powers in certain directions, and yet under the absolute control, in all its ideas and intellectual functions, of a finite, perishable intelligence?" The broad and comprehensive answer is,To constitute man a free moral agent. It needs no argument to show that if the soul were not so limited in its initiative power of reasoning, the finite, mortal man could not be held responsible for the moral status of his soul. God gave to objective man the powers of reason, inductive as well as deductive, for the purpose of enabling him successfully to struggle with his physical environment. He gave him the power to know the right from the wrong. He gave him supreme control of the initial processes of reasoning, and thus made him responsible for the moral status of his soul. The soul, in the mean time, so long as it inhabits the body, is charged with limited responsibilities. It is the life-principle of the body, and its normal functions pertain solely to the preservation of human life and the perpetuation of the human race. It possesses wonderful powers in other directions, under certain abnormal conditions of the body, it is true. But their exercise outside of those limits is always abnormal, and productive of untoward results. Those powers of which we catch occasional glimpses, and which so excite our admiration, are powers which pertain to its existence in a future world. They are powers which proclaim it as a part of God, as partaking of the nature and attributes of the Divine Mind. Its powers of perception of the fixed laws of nature demonstrate its kinship to Omniscience. It is independent of the feeble powers of inductive reasoning when it is freed from its earthly trammels; and there is not one power or attribute peculiar to the finite, objective mind that could be of any service to the soul in its eternal home. We boast of our powers of inductive reason, forgetting how little we have learned, or ever can know, compared with what there is to learn. We forget that they are the outgrowth of our physical wants and necessities, and simply enable us to grope in the dark for the means of subsistence, and to render our physical existence tolerable. The powers of the objective mind, compared with those of the subjective mind, may be likened to a man born in a cave, in which the light of the sun never entered, and supplied only with a rushlight with which to grope his way and find the means of subsistence. The light, feeble as it is, is invaluable to him; for by its means he is enabled gradually to learn his bearings, to take note of his environment, to make occasional discoveries of the necessities of life, and finally to achieve some of the comforts of existence. The more he discovers, the more he appreciates the value of his rushlight and the more he boasts of its transcendent powers of illumination. He hears vague reports of an outside world where the comforts and luxuries of life are comparatively easy to obtain, and he resolves to grope his way out. He is told that the outside world is lighted by a great luminary which will render his rushlight of no value to him except as a reminder of the limitations of his cave-life. But he is sceptical, and points with prideto his accumulations and the discoveries he has made with the aid of his "God-given illuminant," and refuses to believe that there is a possible state of existence which would be tolerable without rushlights. At length a cataclysm of nature throws him upon the outside world in the full blaze of the light of a midday sun. He then finds that he is in a world of light; that he can perceive things as they are, and observe their bearings and relations to each other, and he finds that the rays of his rushlight are no longer visible. It is obvious that this is but a feeble illustration of the difference between the powers of inductive inquiry into the laws of nature, and the powers of perception possessed by the subjective entity. When the soul is freed from its physical trammels it ascends to its native realm of truth, and, untrammelled by false suggestions arising from the imperfect knowledge of the objective mind, it "sees God as he is;" that is, it apprehends all his laws, and imbibes truth from its Eternal Source.

It must not be forgotten in this connection that the subjective mind is the soul, or spirit, and is itself an organized entity, possessing independent powers and functions; while the objective mind is merely the function of the physical brain, and possesses no powers whatever independently of the physical organization. The one possesses dynamic force independently of the body; the other does not. The one is capable of sustaining an existence independently of the body; the other dies with it. It is just here that the ancient philosophers made their greatest error; and that error has been transmitted down through all the ages. They recognized the dual character of the mind, but saw no fundamental difference in the functions of the two minds. It never occurred to them that there was, or could be, any limitation of power in either that was not common to both. They recognized man as a trinity, the three elements of which are "body, soul, and spirit." The soul, in their system of philosophy, corresponds to the objective mind, and the spirit to the subjective mind. They considered only the functions of the two minds as minds,and constantly regarded the two as possessing only co-ordinate powers. Or, if they regarded them as entities, they considered that while each was an entity, it was, somehow, inseparably joined to the other in function and destiny. Hence, according to their philosophy, if one survived the death of the body, both must survive it. This fundamental error shows itself, in various forms, in every system of philosophy, from Plato down; and it will continue to breed confusion and uncertainty in the human mind until the fact is recognized that the subjective mind, or spirit, as Plato designates it, is a distinct entity, possessing independent powers and functions; whereas the objective mind, or the "soul," of the ancient philosopher, is merely the function of the physical brain. This latter proposition is demonstrated by every consideration of its powers, functions, and limitations. Its powers wholly depend upon the physical condition of the brain. They decline as the body weakens. They become deranged and useless as the brain becomes disorganized from physical causes. Its distinctive functions pertain solely to physical existence. It has the power of independent inductive reasoning to compensate for its total want of power to perceive by intuition. But, as I have already pointed out, inductive reasoning is merely a laborious method of inquiry, and pertains wholly to our physical existence. It would be as useless to the spirit in an existence where all truth is perceived by intuition, as a tallow-dip in the full blaze of a noonday sun. It may be set down as a maxim in spiritual philosophy that there is not one power or function of the objective mind which distinguishes it from those of the subjective entity, that could be of any service to the latter when it is freed from its earthly environment.

The peculiar functions of the physical brain are therefore no more entitled to be considered as an immortal entity, or as any necessary part or function of an immortal entity, than are the physical functions of deglutition or digestion, or the physical power of pedal locomotion.

It is not for man to question the wisdom of God in soordaining the relations of the soul to the body as to subordinate the eternal to the perishable. But it is man's duty so to exercise his powers of induction as to ascertain those relations; and, having done so according to his best lights, so to order his conduct as to do his whole duty to himself and his Creator. As we find those relations exist, the whole responsibility rests upon the objective man. He is a free moral agent, and has it in his power to train his soul for weal or woe, for this life and for eternity.

It is of the relations which exist between objective and subjective man in this life that I propose to offer a few practical suggestions at this time. I have already shown that the normal functions of the subjective mind are apparently limited to the preservation of human life and the perpetuation of the human race. These functions are manifested in what are known as instincts. The first is the instinct of self-preservation; the second is the instinct of reproduction; and the third pertains to the preservation of the offspring. In the last may be included the instinctive desire to preserve human life generally. Outside of these limits all phenomenal subjective mental activity appears to be abnormal. I sayappearsto be abnormal, for the reason that we have no means of judging, except from a consensus of facts. The facts which pertain to the subject can be found in the greatest abundance in spiritistic circles, for the reason that it is there that subjective activity is greatest in modern times. I venture to say that no one of the better class of spiritists will deny the fact that most professional mediums eventually become physical wrecks; many are overtaken by mental derangement, and some by a moral degradation too loathsome to be described. Few, if any, escape serious physical trouble. This, of itself, is sufficient evidence of abnormality, and should serve as a warning against the too frequent exercise of subjective power. The majority of spiritistic mediums are more or less afflicted with nervous disorders, and many of them are hysterical to the last degree. Most of them complain of extreme nervous exhaustion after a séance, and manyrequire days to recover from the effects of a prolonged exercise of subjective power. It may be said that I mistake the cause for the effect; that is, that it may be only weak and nervous physical organisms that are capable of exercising subjective power. I am aware that the question is not free from difficulty, and that one is liable to fall into error in discussing a subject that is so little understood. The fact remains, nevertheless, that nervous disorders and mediumship are generally associated, and that fact alone is indicative of abnormality. Whether we are to regard the exercise of subjective power as productive of abnormal physical conditions, or are to suppose that it requires an abnormal physical organism to produce subjective phenomena, matters little. The conclusion must be the same,—that the exercise of subjective power is abnormal, and should be avoided until more is known of the proper conditions of its exercise than has yet been discovered.

There is a further difficulty attending the consideration of this subject which must not be lost sight of, and that is the question how far suggestion may enter as a factor in the case. It is well known that some mesmeric healers fancy that "they take on the conditions of the patient," as they phrase it. That is, they feel the symptoms which afflict the patient. There is no question of the fact that those who enter upon the treatment of a case with that idea firmly fixed in their minds will experience the anticipated sensations, often to a marked degree. But late scientific experiments disclose the fact that such phenomena are always the effect of suggestion. The physical exhaustion which some healers feel after the treatment of a case is also largely due to suggestion. These effects may always be counteracted by a vigorous auto-suggestion; and, moreover, the same means may be effectively employed to produce exactly the opposite effects upon the operator. That is to say, the mental healer, by whatever method he does his work, may always cause his treatment of a patient to redound to his own benefit, as well as to that of the patient, by the exercise of the power of auto-suggestion. It istherefore impossible to say just how far suggestion enters as a factor in the production of untoward physical results from the exercise of mediumistic power. It is certainly traditional among the fraternity that nervous exhaustion ensues from its exercise, and the results are appalling. How far the effects may be counteracted by intelligent auto-suggestion, remains to be settled by the process of evolution. There is, however, little hope of any change for the better so long as the spiritistic medium believes himself to be under the domination of an extraneous force which is beyond his control, and the effects of which he is powerless to mitigate.

This phase of the subject is, however, of little importance compared with the mental effects produced by the too persistent exercise of the subjective faculties in the production of phenomena. Again we must draw our illustrations from spiritistic circles. It is undeniable that the tendency of mediumship is to unhinge the mind, to destroy the mental balance, and often to produce the worst forms of insanity. And it is noticeable that the more thoroughly sincere the medium is in his belief in the genuineness of his power to evoke the spirits of the dead, the greater is the tendency to insanity. The reason is obvious. If he sincerely believes himself to be under the control of an extraneous power, he yields implicit obedience to that power; especially if it assumes to be a superior mentality, as it generally does. Instead of assuming control of the power, he allows it to control him. As a matter of course, he is ignorant of the laws pertaining to it. He is ignorant of the fact that the force which controls him resides within himself, and is not a superior being commissioned from Heaven to convey a message from the Source of all knowledge. He is dazed by its wonderful exhibitions of superior intelligence, is captivated by its eloquence, and awed by its assumption of authority. In short, he knows nothing of its source, or the limitations of its powers of reasoning. The result is that he yields implicit obedience to its guidance in all things. His reason has abdicated its throne and abandoned its functions, and he is at the mercy of his subjective mind, which, in turn, is controlled by the false suggestions of his own disorganized and subjugated objective intelligence. His physical degeneracy keeps pace with his mental decline, his whole nervous system is prostrated by excessive exercise of subjective power, and too frequently the end is acute mania or drivelling imbecility.

One of the most fascinating and seductive forms of subjective mental activity is exhibited in trance, or inspirational, speaking. A medium of fair intelligence and some education, obtained, perhaps, by desultory reading of spiritistic and miscellaneous literature, develops himself into an inspirational speaker. As a sincere spiritist, he believes himself to be controlled by some great spirit who in life was celebrated for his eloquence. He ascends the rostrum and amazes his audience by his wonderful oratory, his marvellous command of the resources of his mind, and, above all, by the clearness and cogency of his reasoning. Those who have known him before and are aware of the limits of his education are the most surprised of all, and no argument can convince them that he is not inspired by some almost superhuman intelligence from another world. They know nothing of the wonders of subjective mental power; they have no knowledge of the perfection of subjective memory, which gives the speaker perfect command of all he has ever read, or of the logical exactitude of the deductive reasoning of the subjective intelligence. The speaker, on his part, finds himself in possession of such wonderful powers and resources, emanating, as he believes, from an extraneous source, abandons his old pursuits, and devotes himself to the work of his inspiration. It is an easy and pleasurable existence for the time being. He finds that there is no need of taking thought of what he is to say, for ideas, and words with which to clothe them, flow from him like a mountain torrent. He finds himself in possession of knowledge which he has no objective recollection of ever having acquired, and of ideas which were foreign to his objective intelligence. He believes, and, from his standpoint, has every reason to believe, that he is inspired by some lofty spirit whose knowledge is unlimited and whose resources are unfailing. He feels that he has no need of further reading or study, and the work of objective intellectual labor soon becomes a drudgery. The result is that his objective intellectual growth soon comes to a stand-still, and at length his objective intellect begins to deteriorate. In the mean time his subjective powers may continue to grow in brilliancy for a time, or at least they shine with a new lustre, as they are compared with the deepening dulness of his objective intellect. At length he becomes fitful, erratic, eccentric. As his objective powers deteriorate, they no longer have any semblance of control over his subjective mind. The suggestions which reason, in its best estate, may have given to his subjective mind, as a starting-point for his discourses, are no longer available, for his power to reason is failing. His friends, who follow him from place to place, begin to notice that he talks one thing at one place, and the opposite at another. They attribute the fact to the control of different spirits at different times, and for a time they are consoled. Eventually the fact is forced upon them that in his normal, or objective, condition he is growing more and more erratic, and that at times his conversation is the merest drivel. As in all the other forms of subjective development mentioned, his physical deterioration keeps pace with his mental decline. In the mean time his subjective powers appear to deteriorate. It is not true, in fact, that his subject mind,per se, deteriorates, for that is impossible. But as it is always controlled by suggestion, it necessarily takes its cue from the suggestions conveyed to it by the objective mind. When that ceases to develop, the subjective mind keeps on in its old rut, for the obvious reason that no new ideas are imparted to it. When the objective mind begins to deteriorate, its suggestions are no longer coherent, and the subjective mind is necessarily incoherent in exact proportion. Its deductions from a false or imbecile suggestion will be logically correct; but, as a matter of course, a false,extravagant, or imbecile premise, followed to its legitimate, logical conclusion, necessarily leads the mind into a corresponding maze of extravagance and imbecility. It is therefore no indication of a decline of subjective powers, but it is a demonstration of the universality of the law of suggestion. It goes without saying that if an inspirational speaker were aware of the source of his power, and of the laws which govern it, and would constantly keep it under the control of his reason, he could utilize it to the very best advantage. A cultured man of well-balanced intellect would then formulate his own premises according to the best lights obtainable through the processes of inductive reasoning, and "inspiration would do the rest." If his premises were correct, the subjective mind could always be depended upon to deduce the correct conclusions, and to illustrate them by drawing upon the resources of its perfect memory of all that the individual has ever seen, heard, or read bearing upon the subject. Such a man would be known as a man of "genius," in whatever direction he exercised his powers. And just in proportion to the natural powers and cultivation of his objective mind and the extent of his objective information would his subjective manifestations be brilliant and powerful.

I do not say that such an exercise of subjective power would not be abnormal and productive of untoward physical consequences. Men of genius in all ages of the world have unconsciously exercised this power. But men of genius the world over have been too often noted for abnormalities of character and conduct. Profane history furnishes but one example where a man of genius appears to have been in possession of objective and subjective powers perfectly balanced, and who was able to utilize his enormous objective advantages, resulting from constant and intimate association with the greatest minds of his generation, in the subjective production of works which must always stand pre-eminent. It is unnecessary to say that I allude to Shakspeare. So little is known of his private life that it is impossible to judge whether abnormal physical effectsresulted from his labors. But his works are full of internal evidence that his subjective powers were under the constant control of a well-trained and perfectly balanced objective intellect.

It is of course impossible to say just how far subjective power might, normally, be employed in the direction indicated, in the absolute dearth of examples where it has been employed with a full knowledge of the laws which govern it. But certain it is that so long as it is exercised under the delusion that it is an extraneous and superior power, over which the objective man possesses no control, just so long will the victim of the delusion be subject to the caprice of an irresponsible power, which will eventually drive him to the horrors of insanity or leave him in the darkness of imbecility.

Of greater importance than either the physical or mental deterioration of the one who habitually exercises subjective power in the production of phenomena, is the moral aspect of the question. One may escape serious physical consequences of mediumship, or he may succeed in maintaining a sufficient outward semblance of mental equilibrium to keep out of the insane asylum; but no well-informed spiritist of the better class will attempt to deny or weaken the force of the statement that a mephitic moral atmosphere surrounds the average spiritistic medium. I do not assert by any means that all mediums are immoral. On the contrary, there are many noble men and pure women who habitually exercise mediumistic power. Otherwise, the tendency to looseness of morals which characterizes so many of them would be difficult to account for on other than physiological grounds. Books have been written to account for this tendency, on the hypothesis that immorality is a consequence of the nervous derangement which follows the practice of mediumship. This hypothesis necessarily presupposes the invariable connection of immorality with a nervous disorder, and the latter with mediumship. The common experience of mankind may be invoked to prove that there is no invariable connection of the kind existing.Another cause must therefore be sought for the too-frequent association of immorality with mediumship.

Those who have followed me in my brief analysis of the causes which conspire to bring about the mental deterioration of the spiritistic medium will anticipate me in what I have to say concerning the causes of the moral degradation of the same class. The medium, if he is sincere in his professions of belief in the alleged communication of spirits of the dead through him, believes himself to be under the care and control of a higher and purer mentality than his own. He believes in its lofty assumptions of mental and moral superiority, and he becomes accustomed to ask its advice in all things pertaining to his personal well-being. He frequently finds its advice to be of the best, and he gradually accustoms himself to submit to its guidance in all things. He assumes and believes that in the clearer light of the world of spirits many of the artificialities of mundane civilization are held in pitying contempt, and he frequently comes to believe that many of the restraints of human society are purely artificial, and have no foundation in true morality or religion. He generally regards himself as a reformer, having broken away from the orthodox creed, and becomes the advocate of a new religion. Like most radical reformers who find the world all wrong in one respect, he immediately assumes that it is wrong in everything; and nothing will satisfy his ambition short of destroying the whole fabric of civilized society, and instituting a new order of things more suited to his ideas of human progress and felicity. It all too frequently happens that one of the first "artificial" institutions of society which becomes the object of private attack by the spiritual medium is the marriage relation. He sees much domestic infelicity surrounding him, and is perhaps tired of the restraints which it imposes upon himself, and he consults his spirit guide as to the propriety of setting at defiance the laws of human society in that regard. Now, if his "spirit guide" were what he believed it to be, or what it assumed to be,—a pure and lofty spirit, disenthralled from the temptationsand weaknesses of the flesh, and drawing inspiration from the society of just men made perfect,—there could be no doubt of the character of the advice it would give him. But, being the medium's own subjective entity, bound by the laws of its being to control by the power of suggestion, it necessarily follows the line of thought which is uppermost in the medium's objective mind, and it gives the advice most desired. Moreover, from the premises suggested by the unhallowed lusts of the medium, it will frame an argument so plausible and convincing to his willing mind that he will fancy that, in following the advice of his "control," he is obeying the holiest impulses implanted in his nature by a God of love.

I do not charge spiritists as a class with being advocates of the doctrines of free love. On the contrary, I am aware that, as a class, they hold the marriage relation in sacred regard. I cannot forget, however, that but a few years ago some of their leading advocates and mediums proclaimed the doctrine of free love in all its hideous deformity from every platform in the land. Nor do I fail to remember that the better class of spiritists everywhere repudiated the doctrine and denounced its advocates and exemplars. Nevertheless, the moral virus took effect here and there all over the country, and it is doing its deadly work in secret in many an otherwise happy home. And I charge a large and constantly growing class of professional mediums with being the leading propagandists of the doctrine of free love. They infest every community in the land, and it is well known to all men and women who are dissatisfied or unhappy in their marriage relations that they can always find sympathy by consulting the average medium, and can, moreover, find justification for illicit love by invoking the spirits of the dead through such mediums.

As before remarked, I do not charge mediums as a class with immoral practices, nor do I say that the exercise of subjective power,per se, has a tendency to induce immoral practices. What I do say is, that through a want of knowledge of the laws which pertain to subjective mental activity,the one who exercises that power in the form of mediumship is in constant danger of being led astray. He invokes a power that he knows nothing of,—a power which may, at any time, turn and rend him.

The man or woman whose heart is pure, in whom the principles of virtue and morality are innate, is in no danger of being corrupted by the exercise of mediumistic power. The auto-suggestions of such are constantly on the side of virtue, and a corrupt communication could not emanate from such a source. But to the young, whose characters are not formed, and to those whose notions of morality are loose, the dangers of mediumship are appalling.

I have felt obliged to draw my illustrations from spirit mediums for the reason that mediumship is the form which subjective activity takes in the Western world. Other forms, however, are being introduced from the Orient, and may soon become common in this country. The Western world is threatened with a revival of the arts of the magician, the conjurer, and the wizard. It may be true, and doubtless is, that the Eastern adepts know more of the practice of subjective arts than is dreamed of by spiritists. The fact that they denounce as dangerous to health, morals, and sanity the practice of mediumship, is a hopeful sign. That they are aware that the power which controls the medium emanates from himself, is demonstrative of their advancement in practical knowledge of the subject. But that they are reliable guides to the safe exercise of subjective power has not been demonstrated. It is certain that they are yet ignorant of the fundamental principles which underlie the science of the soul, for they have yet to learn the law of suggestion, and to appreciate the subtlerôlewhich that power plays in every psychic phenomenon. Their whole system of spiritual philosophy has been built up in ignorance of that law, and hence they are necessarily subject to the same delusions, arising from the same sources of error, that have misguided all mankind, in all the ages of the world, prior to the discovery of that law. They believe in their power to communicate with the spirits of another world,precisely the same as do the modern spiritists. The foundation of their belief is the same; namely, psychic phenomena produced by themselves, in ignorance of the fundamental laws which govern it. The only difference resides in the fact that the Orientalists have the power to produce a greater variety of startling phenomena, and hence are in possession of greater facilities for deceiving themselves. No advantage, therefore, can be gained by studying their philosophy or practising their arts, except as a means of gaining general information or for purposes of scientific experiment; and the warning against indulging in the indiscriminate practice of mediumship holds good against the too frequent exercise of subjective power in any direction, or for any purpose save that of scientific investigation or healing the sick.

It should be remembered always that the power of the subjective entity is the most potential force in nature, and when intelligently directed the most beneficent. But, like every other power in nature misdirected, its destructive force is equally potent.

In conclusion, I desire again to impress upon the reader the absolute necessity of always holding the subjective entity under the positive domination of objective reason; and I here repeat, what I have again and again sought to enforce, that insanity consists in the usurpation by the subjective mind of the throne of reason. The terrible potentialities of the subjective entity are as much to be feared as admired, and no faculty that it possesses is more to be dreaded and guarded against than its awful power and inexorable exactitude of logical deduction, when reasoning from premises that have not been demonstrated by the processes of induction.

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE PHYSICAL MANIFESTATIONS AND PHILOSOPHY OF CHRIST.

The Great Stumbling-block, Unbelief in the Physical History of Christ.—Modern Science confirms the New Testament.—Internal Evidence of the Truth of the History of Jesus.—The Scientific Accuracy of his Statements.—The Exoteric and the Esoteric Doctrines.—Parables.—Esoteric Doctrines Reserved for Modern Science to discover.—The Spirit of Truth.—Jesus the first to proclaim the Scientific Truth.—The Doctrine of Faith.—Healing the Sick.—Natural Law.—Faith essential then as now.—Illustrative Incidents.—Jairus' Daughter.—Seven Scientific Steps.—Secrecy enjoined.—Scientific Reasons.—-Rediscovery of the Science of Mental Therapeutics in Modern Times.—Nothing discovered that Jesus did not know.—Absent Treatment.—The Power to heal transmitted to all Future Generations.—The Conditions.—Conclusions.

Itwas no part of my original intention in writing this book to enter upon the discussion of theological questions, or to speculate upon the possible condition of the soul after the death of the body. Nor shall I, to any great extent, enter upon that prolific field of discussion at this time. Nevertheless, I cannot refrain from presenting a few thoughts which have forced themselves upon me concerning the relation which the hypothesis under consideration bears to the history and doctrines of the man Jesus Christ. In doing so I hope to offend no man's theology, and to avoid the accusation of seeking to "open the secret of spiritual life in the criminal court of empirical philosophy."

It has often been said that the laws which enable man to perceive spiritual truths, or to apprehend the relation which his spiritual nature bears to the Christ, cannot beformulated by any known methods of finite reasoning, that spiritual truth must be approached from the spiritual side, and that it must be perceived by the eye of faith. Nevertheless, there are many who have never been able to attain that faith in the spiritual nature of Christ, for the reason that they persist in approaching him by and through the finite processes of reasoning. Their conceptions of him come through the history of his physical life, and their doubts arise through their unbelief in the verity of the history of his physical manifestations. The history of critical warfare upon Christianity will bear out the statement that this is, and has ever been, the great stumbling-block. The assaults of scepticism have always been upon the man Christ; and, being unable to reconcile the accounts of his physical history and manifestations with the laws of nature, as understood by his critics, sceptics have ignored the spiritual side of his character, and ended in total unbelief in his divine attributes.

If, therefore, the discoveries of modern science can be made to throw any light upon the history of the man Jesus; if they confirm all that has been said of the physical phenomena which characterized his career,—the first great obstacle which stands in the way of the acceptance of the essential spiritual doctrines which he promulgated will be removed.

If, in addition to that, it can be shown that the discoveries of modern science not only confirm the story of his physical manifestations, but demonstrate the essential truth of the central idea which he promulgated concerning man's immortality, show the philosophy of his mission on earth, and prove that he was, and is, as a matter of scientific truth, the Saviour of the souls of men, there will be little left upon which scepticism can hang a reasonable doubt.

I undertake to say that modern science can do all this, and more.

It has often been said that the New Testament bears internal evidence of its own truth. This is true. But it is not true in the sense in which it has been stated. It hasbeen said that such evidence consists in the alleged fact that at the time when Christ lived, there was no one else capable of formulating the code of ethics and morals which he promulgated. That this is not true is evidenced by the writings of many who preceded him. The golden rule itself, which may be said to embody the noblest conception which has been given to mankind of man's duty to his fellow-man, is found in the writings of Confucius. The code of ethics found in the writings of the ancient Greek philosophers will compare favorably with anything found in the New Testament. It is not in this, therefore, that the internal evidence of the truth of the New Testament is to be found.

But I undertake to say that in view of the state of scientific knowledge which existed at the time when Christ appeared on earth, it was absolutely impossible that a fictitious character could have been created, embodying the salient features of the physical history and character of Christ, by any one of his day and generation. The writers of the New Testament must have had an original from which to write the history, draw the character, and state the attributes of Christ. This is especially true of his physical history and manifestations; for no one but he was at that time capable of doing his work or of formulating with scientific accuracy the secret and source of his power. Nor was any one of his day capable of conceiving the ideas which he promulgated concerning his spiritual mission on earth, or of stating, as he did, the exact conditions upon which mankind must depend for salvation and immortality. He did not formulate the scientific principles which underlie his doctrines, for the world was not ready to receive, nor capable of appreciating, them; he only stated the facts. It has been left for the discoveries of modern science to demonstrate the scientific accuracy of his statements. That he understood the principles which underlie his doctrines and constitute the secret of his power, goes without saying; but his biographers did not understand them, or, if they did, they were as reticent as he was.Nor is it important to know whether they were or were not in possession of that knowledge. The point is, that they could not have created the character without the original to draw from, and,a fortiori, they could not have formulated the doctrines which, after the lapse of nineteen hundred years, prove to be scientifically correct. But it is said that they were inspired. Leaving out of consideration the theological idea of inspiration, it is certain that they were inspired in the highest and best sense of the word. They were inspired by the authoritative declarations of the Master,—by his statement of the great principles of his philosophy; by the words of him "who spake as never man spake,"—words of which he made the declaration, that, "though heaven and earth shall pass away, my words shall not pass away." With this view of the source of the inspiration of the writers of the New Testament, the internal evidence of the essential truth of the history of Jesus Christ is demonstrative.

If Jesus had formulated the scientific principles which pertain to his doctrines and his works, and had taught them to his disciples, there would have been no internal evidence whatever of the truth of his history, or that he ever existed. The reason is obvious. If his biographers had been in possession of that knowledge, no matter from what source they obtained it, it would have been possible for them to create a fictitious character possessing all the powers and attributes of Christ. A few years ago it would have been impossible for the most lively imagination to picture two men, standing a thousand miles apart, transmitting oral messages to each other over a wire stretched between them. If, however, a statement had been made by any one that he had seen the feat performed, the existence of the telephone to-day would be demonstrative evidence of the truth of his statement, however sceptical his own generation might have been. In other words, the discoveries of modern science would have developed the fact that he spoke the truth. If it were known that the man who made the statement knew absolutely nothing of thescience of electricity, the internal evidence of its truth would be all the stronger; for a man well versed in the science of electricity might be supposed to be capable of imagining the possibility of such an invention, and stating its existence as a fact. But a man ignorant of electrical laws could by no possibility conceive the idea of the telephone; he must be presented with the concrete fact in order to be able to state it intelligently.

It was so with the biographers of Jesus. They knew nothing of the scientific principles involved in the performance of his wonderful works. They knew only the facts, and they recorded them. He gave to his apostles just enough information to enable them to continue his work. He stated the conditions of success, and promised the world that whosoever complied with those conditions should be able to do even greater works than he had done. He formulated the doctrine of immortality, and stated the conditions of its attainment. His biographers have recorded his words, but not his reasons, for he gave none. If, therefore, science demonstrates that the powers that he possessed are possible, that the conditions of their exercise are precisely what he declared them to be, and that they cannot be exercised without a strict compliance with those conditions, the internal evidence for the truth of his history is overwhelming. Modified by the nature of the subject, and of the proofs required, the same may be said of his spiritual doctrines.

His practical wisdom is nowhere shown more conspicuously than in his reticence. He had two very important reasons for withholding a full disclosure of the underlying principles of his philosophy, or of the laws which pertain to his physical manifestations. The first was that the world was not ready to receive the whole truth. This was said to his disciples during his last interview with them previous to his crucifixion. "I have yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now." He had given to his followers all that it was expedient to give in that age. He had told them the conditions of salvation. He had taught themhow to heal the sick. He had taught them how to employ their powers in doing good, both physically and spiritually. But he knew that the same power which he taught them how to use for the physical benefit of mankind might also, in the hands of wicked men, be employed for doing evil. He knew that the condition of its exercise for evil purposes was a full knowledge of the laws which pertain to it. He knew that in the hands of the majority of the men of his day and generation it was a dangerous power,—too dangerous to be intrusted to the world in its then stage of public and private virtue, morality, religion, and enlightenment.

There was an exoteric doctrine which he promulgated to the world, and an esoteric doctrine which he deemed it inexpedient to divulge before the world was prepared to receive it. His whole career illustrates this important fact.

His habit of speaking to the multitude in parables, together with his reasons for so doing, constitutes the strongest evidence of his determination to conceal his esoteric doctrines from the common people.

"And the disciples came, and said unto him, Why speakest thou unto them in parables?"He answered and said unto them, Because it is given unto you to know the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it is not given...."Therefore speak I to them in parables: because they seeing see not; and hearing they hear not, neither do they understand...."For this people's heart is waxed gross, and their ears are dull of hearing, and their eyes they have closed...."All these things spake Jesus unto the multitude in parables; and without a parable spake he not unto them:"That it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophet, saying, I will open my mouth in parables; I will utter things which have been kept secret from the foundation of the world."[39]

"And the disciples came, and said unto him, Why speakest thou unto them in parables?

"He answered and said unto them, Because it is given unto you to know the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it is not given....

"Therefore speak I to them in parables: because they seeing see not; and hearing they hear not, neither do they understand....

"For this people's heart is waxed gross, and their ears are dull of hearing, and their eyes they have closed....

"All these things spake Jesus unto the multitude in parables; and without a parable spake he not unto them:

"That it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophet, saying, I will open my mouth in parables; I will utter things which have been kept secret from the foundation of the world."[39]

These passages make it as clear as words can formulate a proposition that he deemed it inexpedient to divulge tothe people anything more than they could understand and assimilate. His estimate of men and his knowledge of their needs were perfect; and he gave to each class with whom he had to deal, just what was necessary to enable it to perform the work assigned to it. He taught the multitude the principles of morality and justice among men, and pointed the way to eternal life; but he did not teach them how to heal the sick. He taught his chosen ones the true method of healing the sick, and divulged the exact conditions of its exercise; but he did not teach them the scientific principles upon which his system of healing was founded. They were no more capable of understanding those principles than were the multitude capable of acquiring the power to heal the sick. He gave to each according to his needs; and, true to his spiritual mission, Christ enjoined upon all men the necessity of first seeking the kingdom of heaven, when all other needful things would be added unto them. It was not necessary for his disciples to know the esoteric science of healing, in order to enable them to heal the sick, any more than it is for us to-day. We may know how little the knowledge of true scientific principles involved in the exercise of that power has to do with success in healing, when we observe the diversity of views entertained on the subject by the successful healers of modern times. Christ gave to the world all the knowledge necessary for the successful exercise of that power in the one wordfaith. He was the first who taught that lesson to mankind; and it holds as good to-day as it did when he first proclaimed it to the multitude upon the banks of the Jordan.

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