FOOTNOTES:
[37] Book on Mediums, p. 87.
PHANTASMS OF THE DEAD.
Ghosts.—Scientific Investigations.—Tentative Classification of Phenomena.—Power to create Phantasms demonstrated.—Investigations of the London Society for Psychical Research.—Spirit Photography.—Projection of the "Astral Body."—Witches.—Conditions necessary.—The same in all Cases.—Spirit "Materialization."—Magicians.—Ghosts the Creations of the Subjective Entity.—Eliphas Levi's Views.—Raising the Devil.—Crystal Visions.—Propositions established.—Embodied Thoughts.—Phantasms not Spirits.—Uniform Characteristics.—A New Classification.—Conditions of Objectivity and Persistency.—Haunted Houses.—No General Intelligence manifested.—D'Assier's Statements.—A Remarkable Case.—Ghosts Intensified Telepathic Visions.—Difference in Degree, not in Kind.—Ghosts not controllable by Suggestion.—Other Salient Peculiarities.—Ghosts neither prove nor disprove Immortality.—Mental Atmosphere of Houses.—Remarkable Cases.—Classification of Telepathic Phenomena.—Conclusions.
There is another class of phenomena which demands a brief notice, although it does not pertain directly to the development of the hypothesis under consideration. It is that of phantasms of the dead, or ghosts. Scientific investigations of modern times have demonstrated the fact that many of the ghost-stories which have terrified the timid in all ages of the world have a real foundation in fact; that is, it has been demonstrated that certain impalpable shapes, resembling persons deceased, do from time to time appear to the living. The world is indebted more than it can ever repay to the London Society for Psychical Research for its patient, untiring, and strictly scientific investigations of this subject. Many facts have been accumulated, but they have not yet been classified with reference to any special theory or hypothesis. It is perhaps too early to formulate any hypothesis pertaining to the subject-matter. It is certainly too early to dogmatize. The most that can safely be done is to speculate tentatively, and to suggest a line of thought and investigation for those who are devoting their time to the work. It is my purpose to do this, and this alone, in the hope that if the suggestions seem to be worthy of consideration, the subject may be pursued on the lines indicated until their fallacy is exposed or their correctness demonstrated.
It seems to me that sufficient facts have been accumulated to establish, provisionally at least, certain definite characteristics of all phantasms, whether of the living or the dead; and if a theory can be formulated, however startling it may be at first glance, that will harmonize with the well-established characteristics of the phenomena, it will be at least worthy of consideration. In attempting to do this, I shall not quote authorities to any extent to establish my premises, but shall state merely what seems to be well authenticated, and leave the verification of the premises, as well as the conclusions, to those who have more time, patience, and ability to devote to the work than I have.
First of all, then, it seems to be well authenticated that the subjective personality of man possesses the power to create phantasms, or visions, which in many instances are visible to the objective senses of others. The telepathic experiments recorded in "Phantasms of the Living" and in the Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research amply demonstrate the truth of this proposition. Every vision perceived by one in telepathic rapport with another must be presumed to have been created by one or the other. It is true that some of the visions may be merely perceived subjectively, but not all. Many cases are recorded where the phantasms have been perceived by more than one person at the same time, and others have been perceived under circumstances such as to leave no doubt that the percipient was in a completely normal condition, and saw the visions objectively. Moreover, the phenomena of so-called spirit photography amply demonstrate the fact that visions can be created of such tangible character that they can be caught and fixed upon the photographic plate. In saying this I am not insensible of the fact that many frauds have been committed in this species of phenomena, as well as in all others attributed to spirits of the dead. But this does not militate against phenomena of that character which have been produced under test conditions so strict that all possibility of fraud was eliminated. In admitting this class of phenomena to be genuine, in the sense that it is sometimes produced without fraud or legerdemain, it is also admitted that, in many instances, pictures of the sitter's dead friends have been produced which were such perfect likenesses of the deceased as to be unmistakable. Of course it will be understood that whilst I admit the phenomenon, I do not admit the claim that it has its origin in the spirit-world. Like all other so-called spirit phenomena, it is, in my opinion, directly traceable to the power of the subjective mind of the medium, aided by telepathic communion with the sitter. The latter, consciously or unconsciously, thinks of one or more of his dead friends. The medium, perceiving telepathically the image created by the mind of the sitter, re-creates it in such tangible shape that it is caught by the camera. Or it may be in some instances that the image is created by the sitter himself in such palpable shape as to be caught by the camera. Indeed, in many recorded instances, where the sitter has been a powerful medium, it seems probable that he created the image himself. In point of fact there is little doubt that the power resides, to a greater or less extent, in all human beings to create such images, their strength and clearness depending, of course, upon the power of the individual to recall vividly the remembrance of the person to be photographed, together with the power to concentrate his mind for a certain length of time upon the mental picture. Indeed, experiments have been made which demonstrate the power to produce the picture of any one, living or dead, in this manner.
This being true, two conclusions are obvious; namely, (1) That the phenomena of spirit photography are easily accounted for, without the necessity of attributing them to extramundane origin; and (2) That the power resides in the subjective mind of man to create phantasms perceptible to the objective senses of others. Again, it seems to be well established by experiment that some persons have the power, not only to create such phantasms, but to endow them with a certain degree of intelligence and power. Thus, the experiments recorded in "Phantasms of the Living," and quoted in a preceding chapter of this book, show that the image of the agent was not only created by him in his sleep, but was projected into the presence of others at a long distance from where he slept. The image was not only perceptible to the sight, as much so as the real presence would have been, but in some instances it was even tangible. The Orientalists call this the "projection of the astral body," and it is claimed that many persons in the East have acquired the power to produce the phenomenon at will. The fact that phantasms can thus be produced being well authenticated, many old stories of such phenomena acquire a new interest and importance, and assume an air of probability. Thus, the old stories of witches, in so far as the alleged phenomena seem to have been produced under the same conditions as those which are well authenticated, are elevated into the region of possibility, if not of probability. They are at least worthy of re-examination, in the light of modern experiments. It is foreign to my purpose to enter at large into the discussion of the alleged phenomena of so-called witchcraft, and this allusion is made here for the purpose of suggesting to those who desire to pursue the subject that if they will take for granted that which has been demonstrated to be true in regard to the power of the sub-conscious mind, or personality, to project tangible phantasms or images, and will apply the doctrine of duality and suggestion to the alleged facts, the old stories of the phenomena of witchcraft will be found to possess a scientific value and importance which cannot be ignored in the study of psychology.
For the purposes of this argument it will be assumed that the power of man, under certain conditions, to project phantasms is provisionally established. The next question is, What are the conditions? If we find that the conditions are practically the same in all cases, one great step in the classification of the phenomena will have been taken.
The one condition which seems to be necessary in all cases for the production of the phenomena is that of profound sleep, either natural or artificial. The objective senses must be locked in slumber, and the more profound the sleep, the greater the power seems to be. Thus, in the cases recorded in "Phantasms of the Living," the sleep was natural, but profound. It was at least so profound that the agent had no recollection of actually doing what he had resolved to do, and it was only brought to his knowledge by the subsequent statements made by the percipients. It is said, however, that sometimes the agent retains full recollection of what he did. Be this as it may, the fact remains that the one essential condition for the successful production of the phenomena is that of sleep. Again, the Orientalists tell us the same thing. Their adepts lock themselves in their rooms, which are carefully protected against invasion, and go into a sleep so profound as to simulate death. The witches were known to employ artificial means to produce sleep. Formulæ for producing what was known as "witches' ointment" are still extant. It was composed of the most powerful narcotics, made into an ointment by the addition of some fatty substance. The body of the witch was anointed from head to foot, and she then went to bed in some place secure from observation or disturbance, and lapsed into a profound sleep. This much is known, and many wonderful phenomena are alleged to have been produced, prominent among which was the creation of various shapes, such as the image of herself, images of cats, dogs, wolves, etc., which were sent to worry and annoy her neighbors or any one against whom she had a grudge. In fact, the shapes alleged to have been produced are protean.
Another alleged phenomenon of cognate character is that of so-called spirit materialization. In the production of this phenomenon the conditions are the same. The medium goes into a trance, or hypnotic state, and projects the shapes of various persons, generally of the deceased friends of some of those present. A good medium will produce any number of visions, of any number of persons, men and women, large and small. Spiritists believe, of course, that the real spirits of their friends are present, and are thus made visible to mortal eyes, and in many instances tangible, and able to hold a brief conversation with their friends. As the intellectual part of the performance of these alleged spirits is always on a par with that of other forms of spirit manifestation, subject to the same limitations and governed by the same laws, we must come to the same conclusion as to their origin, namely, that, whatever it may be, it is not due to spirits of the dead.
The old stories of the power of magicians to conjure alleged spirits are also raised into the region of probability by these considerations. They also observed the same conditions required in all the other cases mentioned. By the performance of certain impressive ceremonies, which they were taught to believe were necessary, they were said to be able to evoke so-called spirits and to do many other wonderful things. The ceremonies and incantations, together with the impressive environment with which they surrounded themselves, the incense, the slow music, the "dim religious light," the solemn invocations,—all had a tendency to throw them into the subjective condition, and thus enable them to evoke the shapes desired. That these shapes were literal creations of the subjective personality of the magician, rather than the actual spirits invoked, there is every reason to believe. Nor are we alone in that opinion. Eliphas Levi, than whom no modern writer on the subject of magic is better informed or more honest in the expression of his real convictions, gives utterance to the following:—
"Human thought creates what it imagines; the phantoms of superstition project their real deformity in the Astral Light, and live by the very terrors they produce. They owe their being to the delusions of imagination and to the aberration of the senses, and are never produced in the presence of any one who knows and can expose the mystery of their monstrous birth."[38]
Again, on page 160, he says:—
"The evokers of the Devil must before all things belong to a religion which believes in a Devil who is the rival of God. To have recourse to a power, we must believe in it. A firm faith being therefore granted in the religion of Satan, here is the method of communicating with this pseudo-god:—
Magical Axiom.
Within the circle of its action, every Logos creates what it affirms.
Direct Consequence.
He who affirms the Devil creates the Devil."
The author then goes on to give minute directions for performing the ceremonies necessary for raising the Devil, so to speak, with which we have nothing to do at present; these quotations being made merely for the purpose of showing that the greatest and most philosophical magician of this century was fully aware that the shapes evoked by the Magi, whether they be of angels or of demons, whether they be perceptible to the objective senses or merely subjective hallucinations, tangible or intangible, are the creations of the mind of the magician.
The phenomenon of crystal vision is another illustration of the power of the subjective mind to create visions. Ordinarily these visions are only perceptible to the operator; but cases are recorded where they were perfectly perceptible to the bystanders. The conditions necessary for successful crystal reading are practically the same as in all other cases, although the subjective condition is not ordinarily so pronounced. This phenomenon illustrates, however, the power of the subjective mind to create phantasms, and constitutes one of the many methods of bringing the operations of the subjective mind above the threshold of consciousness. It is one of the best methods known of exercising the power of telepathy, the visions being objective reproductions of what is real or perceived in the mind of the person who consults the medium. If no one is present besides the medium or operator, he sees merely what his own subjective mind creates. It is perhaps superfluous to remark that the phenomenon is governed by the same laws which pertain to all other subjective phenomena, and the intelligence displayed is hedged about by the same limitations.
I have now enumerated several different sub-classes of the phenomena which are concerned in the creation of visions. In each sub-class instances are recorded of the visions being made perceptible to the objective senses of others. As remarked in the beginning of this chapter, we do not propose to stop to verify the phenomena of each class. It is sufficient to know that the phenomena of one of the sub-classes is verified by scientific authority. For present purposes the rest must stand or fall by that. At any rate, we shall assume the right to hold that any cognate phenomenon, alleged to have been produced under the same conditions as those which have been demonstrated to be veridical, is entitled to tentative consideration and credit.
It is assumed, therefore, that the following propositions are sufficiently verified for the purpose of formulating a definite theory of proximate causation:—
1. The alleged phenomena are all produced under the same conditions.
2. The one essential condition is that of the partial or total suspension of objective consciousness.
3. The more complete the extinction of the objective consciousness, the more pronounced the success of the experiment; that is, the more tangible to the objective senses of others do the creations become.
From these facts it is fair to conclude,—
1. That the power to create phantasms resides and is inherent in the subjective mind, or personality, of man.
2. That the power becomes greater as the body approaches nearer to the condition of death; that is, as the subjective, or hypnotic, condition becomes deeper, and the subjective personality in consequence becomes stronger in its sphere of activity.
3. That at the hour of death, or when the functions of the body are entirely suspended, the power is greatest.
Hence, ghosts.
It will be understood from the foregoing that my theory is that ghosts, or phantasms of the dead, are produced exactly as phantasms of the living are produced; that is, they are creations of the subjective entity. How they are created is of course a question that may never be answered in terms comprehensible by the objective intelligence of man. It is as far beyond our finite comprehension as are the processes by which the Infinite Mind has brought the universe into being. All that we can know is the fact that phantasms are created by some power inherent in the subjective personality of man. They may be called "embodied thoughts," as man may be called the embodied thought of God. If, as the Scriptures teach us, "we are gods," that is, "sons of God" and "heirs of God and joint-heirs with Jesus Christ," it is fair to presume that that part of the Infinite which is embodied in each of us must partake, to a limited extent, of His power to create. Experimental psychology suggests to us that we have that power, and that it is thus that phantasms are produced.
To the supposition that phantasms of the dead are thus created is opposed but one other hypothesis, and that is, that the phantasms are the real spirits of the dead persons whom they represent. Granted that ghosts do exist and make themselves manifest to the living, one or the other of these hypotheses must be true, and the other false. To determine which is true, we must have recourse to the ghosts themselves; that is, we must collate the facts regarding the characteristics of these supposed dwellers on the border-land, and ask ourselves whether their known and admitted characteristics are those which would naturally belong to the real spirit of a man, or to an embodied thought of a man.
The salient characteristics which seem to belong to all ghosts, and which pertain to the question under consideration, are these:—
The ghosts which are best authenticated and which seem to possess the greatest longevity, so to speak,—that is, the greatest persistency of power and purpose,—are of those who have died violent deaths. There are exceptions to this rule, which will be noted later on.
The generally accepted theory which has been employed to account for this coincidence is that the soul, thus torn suddenly and prematurely from the body, retains more of the material elements of the body than it does when death is the result of gradual disintegration and the natural separation of the material from the immaterial. It is thought that the physical elements thus retained temporarily by the spirit enable it to make itself visible to the living, as well as to perform certain feats of physical strength attributed to some spirits. This is very plausible at first glance, and in the absence of any facts to the contrary might be accepted as the true theory. But, as before intimated, there are exceptions to the supposed rule. It is not true that all ghosts are those of persons who have died violent deaths. On the contrary, many of the best authenticated ghosts are of persons who have died at a good old age and in the due course of nature. Moreover, there is nothing to distinguish the one class of ghosts from the other, although it is true that those who have met death by violence far outnumber the others. This theory, therefore, accounts for nothing. Nevertheless, the fact that the majority of ghosts are of those who belong to a particular class must possess some significance. Now, if we can discover some state of facts which appears to accompany all, or to precede all, ghostly phenomena, a great point will be gained, and the real significance of the other facts may become apparent.
In looking the field over with this end in view, the first fact which forces itself upon our attention, and which seems to be universal and to possess a veritable significance, is that all phantasms of the dead are of those who have died under circumstances of great mental stress or emotion. No one whose death was peaceful and quiet, no one who left this life with no unsatisfied longing or desire present in the mind at the time of death, ever projected a phantasm upon the living objective world.
Again, the strength, persistency, and objectivity of the phantasm seem to be in exact proportion to the intensity of the emotion experienced at the moment of death.
It will thus be apparent why it happens that ghosts of those who have died violent deaths more frequently "revisit the glimpses of the moon" than those whose deaths have been less tragic and less calculated to inspire an intense desire or emotion. The murdered man feels, at the supreme moment, an intense longing to acquaint the world with the circumstances of his "taking off;" and he conceives the thought of reproducing the scene on the spot until its significance is understood and the murderer is brought to justice. The result is a haunted house; and those whose nerves are strong enough to withstand the shock may nightly witness a realistic reproduction of the tragedy. This may continue for days, months, or even years, but invariably ceases when the object is accomplished.
The character of the manifestations is as varied as are the phases of human emotion or the objects of human desire; but when the facts of a tragedy once come to light, the phantasm is always found to be significant of their important features.
When a mother dies at a distance from her children, she is often filled with an intense longing to see them once more before she passes away. The result often is that she projects a phantasm into their presence which takes a lingering look into the faces of the loved ones, and then fades away.
Two persons agree that whichever passes away first shall show himself to the other at or soon after the hour of death. The result often is that the agreement is carried out with startling fidelity. The object accomplished, the phantasm disappears forever.
Another salient characteristic, which seems to be universal and which possesses the utmost interest and importance in determining the true source of the phantasm, is that it possesses no general intelligence. That is to say, a ghost was never known to have more than one idea or purpose. That one idea or purpose it will follow with the greatest pertinacity, but utterly ignores everything else. In the rare instances where the phantasm has been conversed with, it manifests perfect intelligence on the one subject, but pays not the slightest attention to any question pertaining to any other, not even to cognate subjects. This characteristic pertains to every form and phase of visions which are tangible to the objective senses. Subjective hallucinations are governed by different laws, and are not taken into account in this connection.
M. Adolphe d'Assier, in his intensely interesting work entitled "Posthumous Humanity," mentions this peculiarity in a number of instances. Thus, on page 272 he says:
"The shade only talks about its personal predilections, and remains deaf to every question outside the limits it has prescribed for itself. All the colloquies that have been gathered upon this subject resemble that of Bezuel and Desfontaine (1697), reported by Dr. Brière de Boismont. They were two college comrades, two intimate friends, who had sworn to each other that the first who died should appear to the other to give him some news about himself."
Accordingly, the year following, the shade of Desfontaine appeared to Bezuel, and addressed him as follows:—
"I agreed with you that if I died first I should come and tell you. I was drowned in the Caen River the day before yesterday, at this same hour, in company of Such and Such;' and he related the circumstances which caused his death. 'It was his very voice,' says Bezuel. 'He requested me, when his brother should return, to tell him certain things to be communicated to his father and mother. He gave me other commissions, then bade me farewell and disappeared. I soon learned that everything he had told me was but too true, and I was able to verify some details that he had given. In our conversation he refused to answer all the questions I put to him as to his actual situation, especially whether he was in heaven, in hell, or in purgatory. One would have said that he did not hear me when I put such questions, and he persisted in talking to me of that which was upon his mind about his brother, his family, or the circumstances which had preceded his death.'"
It should be stated, in this connection, that this phantom does not appear to have been seen objectively by any one, save, possibly, by Bezuel himself. Others were present, who saw Bezuel apparently engaged in conversation with some invisible being. They could hear Bezuel's words, but neither saw nor heard those of the phantom. It seems probable, therefore, that it was a case of telepathic communion pure and simple; but it illustrates our point just as well as if it had been what it appeared to Bezuel to be,—a veritable apparition, perceptible to the objective senses. Moreover, it was a case of deferred percipience,—the death having occurred two days previously,—and is therefore more strongly illustrative of our position, as will presently be seen.
A moment's reflection will show how impossible it would be for the agent, in conveying a telepathic message on a given subject, especially in a case of deferred percipience, to do anything more than convey the message. When the agent has sent the message, the transaction is ended, so far as he is concerned. When the message rises above the threshold of the consciousness of the percipient, and he begins to ask questions foreign to the subject of the message, there is no one to answer them; the agent is no longer in telepathic rapport with him. It is just the same as if one should send a telegram to another on a given subject, and then disappear. The recipient of a message might ask all the questions he chose, on that or any other subject, but he could get no reply, for the reason that the original sender is out of reach.
It might be possible, if both the agent and the percipient were in the proper mental condition at the same time, for them to hold a general conversation; but we know of no recorded case of the kind. In all reported cases the agent telepaths the message, and the percipient takes cognizance of it by means of clairaudience, or by seeing a vision illustrating it, as the case may be, and that ends it. The message is a thought of the agent projected into the consciousness of the percipient through the medium of his subjective mind. When the message has once risen into the consciousness of the percipient, he is apparently no longer in a mental condition to communicate with the agent telepathically. At least, he never does so communicate, with the result of receiving further information in reply.
In the case under consideration the agent had been dead two days when the message was received by the percipient. If it was a telepathic message projected at the hour of death by the agent, it was manifestly impossible, for the reasons before stated, for him to respond to questions foreign to the subject of the message. If, on the other hand, the apparition was the real phantom, or spirit, of the deceased, it could have conveyed any information desired. The fact that it could not do so shows conclusively that said phantom was merely the embodied thought of the deceased, projected at the supreme moment for a specific purpose.
M. d'Assier affirms that the case here related is typical of all messages delivered by ghosts; that is, that they are apparently never able to enter into a general discussion of matters outside of the one dominant idea which called them into being. The history of all phantoms, so far as our reading extends, confirms the statement.
From these premises two conclusions seem inevitable:
1. That a phantom, whether it be of the living or of the dead, whether it is perceived subjectively or objectively, is not the subjective entity, or soul, of the person it represents. If it were, it would necessarily possess all the intelligence belonging to that person, and would, consequently, be able and willing to answer any and all questions propounded by the percipient. It is simply impossible to conceive any valid reason for the refusal of a friend or relative of the percipient to answer questions of vital interest and importance to all mankind.
2. The second conclusion is, that a phantom, or ghost, is nothing more or less than an intensified telepathic vision, its objectivity, power, persistency, and permanence being in exact proportion to the intensity of the emotion and desire which called it into being. It is the embodiment of an idea or thought. It is endowed with the intelligence pertaining to that one thought, and no more. Hence the astonishing limitations of the intelligence of ghosts, before noted.
The difference between a telepathic vision transmitted from one living man to another, and a phantom, or ghost, of a deceased person, is one of degree, and not of kind; of species, but not of genus. Both are creations of the subjective mind; both are created for the purpose of conveying intelligence to others. In each case the vision ceases the moment the object of its creation is accomplished. In telepathy between two living persons, the vision is created, and the intelligence is communicated direct to the percipient. Its mission accomplished, it fades away. It seldom displays physical power or becomes perceptible to the touch, although there are exceptions to the rule. (See the cases noted in a former chapter.) The reasons are: (1) that the emotions and desires which call it into being are seldom of great intensity, compared with the emotions of a man dying by violence; (2) that the conditions are not so favorable in a living person, in normal health, as they are in one whose objective senses are being closed in death; (3) that the object for which it was created being easily and quickly accomplished, and there being no further reason for its existence, it fades away, in accordance with the laws of its being.
On the other hand, the phantom of the dead is produced under the most favorable conditions. The objective senses are being closed in death. The emotions attending a death by violence are necessarily of the most intense character. The desire to acquaint the world with the circumstances attending the tragedy is overwhelming. The message is not for a single individual, but to all whom it may concern. Hence the ghost does not travel from place to place, and show itself promiscuously, but confines its operations to the locality, and generally to the room in which the death-scene occurred. There it will remain, nightly rehearsing the tragedy, for days and months and years, or until some one with nerves strong enough demands to know the object of its quest. When this is done, the information will be given, and then the phantom will fade away forever.
We have supposed two extreme cases,—one, a simple case of experimental telepathy, and one, of a death by violence. Between the two extremes there is every variety of manifestation and every grade of power. But they are all governed by the same laws and limitations.
That the posthumous phantom is not the soul, or subjective entity, of the deceased, is evidenced by many other facts, among which may be mentioned the following:—
1. It is not controllable by suggestion. This is abundantly shown by what has been said regarding its persistency in following the one idea which it represents, and ignoring every effort to obtain information pertaining to other matters. This peculiarity characterizes every phantasm, whether of the living or of the dead. Again, no ghost was ever laid by the power of exorcism until the object of its existence was accomplished. Obsessing spirits, so-called, can be exorcised, because the exorcist is dealing directly with the subjective mind of the obsessed, and amenability to control by suggestion is the law of its being. But a ghost is not amenable to that law; it cannot be scolded out of existence before the object of its existence has been accomplished. In this, therefore, the phantom possesses the characteristics which might be expected to distinguish an embodied thought of a soul from the soul itself.
2. If we are to suppose a phantom to be the soul of the person it represents, we must also be prepared to believe that inanimate things and animals possess souls. Ghosts, it will be remembered, are always well provided with wearing apparel. We must therefore suppose clothes to have souls, and that the soul of the dead, or dying, man provides himself with an outfit of the souls of his hat, coat, trousers, boots, etc. Moreover, ghosts are frequently seen riding in ghostly turnouts, comprising horses, carriage, harness, and all the paraphernalia of a first-class establishment. Are we to suppose that the souls of all these things are pressed into the service of the nocturnal visitant? The same is true of telepathic visions of all grades and kinds. In this, again, the vision, or phantom, possesses the characteristics which one can easily attribute to an embodied thought-creation, but not to the actual soul of a person, living or dead.
3. Another peculiarity of ghosts is that they invariably disappear, never to return, when the building which was the scene of their visitation has been destroyed. Another building may be erected on the same spot, but the ghost never reappears. There must be some valid reason for this, for it is impossible to attribute to coincidence that which so frequently and invariably happens. It would seem to be but another limitation of the power and intelligence of the embodied thought. Its mission seems to be confined, not only to conveying the one item of intelligence, but to the actual scene of the tragedy. The effect of changing the physical environment appears to have the same effect as an attempt to change the current of its thought by asking a question foreign to it. It disappears. Now, it is impossible to conceive of an intelligent entity, in full possession of all the faculties and attributes of a human soul, being so easily diverted from the pursuit of a given object.
4. M. d'Assier arrives at two conclusions regarding ghosts, neither of which can afford any satisfaction to those who seek, in their manifestations, for evidence of a happy or a continued life beyond the grave. One is that the continued existence of the shade is a burden too grievous to be borne; and the other is that it eventually disappears by atomic dispersion, and loses its identity. On page 270 of "Posthumous Humanity" he says:—
"Most of the manifestations by which the shades reveal themselves seem to indicate that the posthumous existence is a burden."
Again, on page 273, he says:—
"To sum up, one may say that the impression left upon the mind by the lamentations and rare replies of those shades who succeed in making themselves heard is almost always a sentiment of profound sadness."
On page 274 he has the following to say regarding the ultimate fate of posthumous man:—
"I have said that the existence of the shade is but a brief one. Its tissue disintegrates readily under the action of the physical, chemical, and atmospheric forces which constantly assail it, and it re-enters, molecule by molecule, the universal planetary medium. Occasionally, however, it resists these destructive causes, continuing its struggle for existence beyond the tomb."
M. d'Assier is undoubtedly right regarding his facts, but wrong in his interpretation of those facts, and consequently wrong in his conclusions.
It is undoubtedly true that the shade is always imbued with a sentiment of profound sadness. The circumstances under which it is produced, and the emotions and desires which call it into being, are necessarily of such a character as to project a profoundly sad thought. And this fact is another evidence of its being an embodied thought, rather than a human soul. If it were the latter, it would be subject to varying moods and emotions, modified by its environment for the time being. But, being an embodied thought, it never changes its attitude or sentiment, but goes on in its predetermined line of action, regardless of its surroundings and utterly oblivious of anything which may be said or done to divert it. Truly, "thoughts are things."
Again, M. d'Assier is right in his declaration that the shade sustains but a comparatively brief existence. Some ghosts persist for years, it is true, in haunting a given spot, but they all eventually disintegrate. Their capacity for continued existence depends upon the intensity of the emotion which produces them. Their actual longevity depends largely upon the importance of the thought or message which they personate. It depends principally, however, upon the successful performance of its mission. When that is accomplished, it disappears at once and forever. As has already been pointed out, an ordinary telepathic message between two individuals disappears at once upon its successful delivery; whereas a phantom of the dead may persist in haunting one spot for years. It will, however, eventually disintegrate and disappear, even if its mission has proved to be a failure.
If we are to consider, as M. d'Assier evidently does, the shade of a deceased person to be the soul of such person, we must arrive at the same conclusion that he has reached; namely, that posthumous existence is a burden, and that it is but a brief one at most. According to his view, the evidence of the phantom negatives the idea of a continued existence after the death of the body. According to our view, it neither proves nor disproves immortality; it leaves that question just where it found it. Like all so-called spiritual manifestations, it adds nothing to our stock of knowledge of what is in store for us beyond the grave. We must still look for immortality with the eye of faith alone, relying on the promises of the Master.
There is another alleged phenomenon connected with this general subject which deserves a passing notice. I refer to the popular belief that certain houses are pervaded by a mental atmosphere, so to speak, which corresponds to the mental condition of those who have inhabited it. There are many sensitive persons who, upon moving into a strange house or room, are influenced apparently by the mental attitude of those who previously occupied the premises. This is especially true if the former inhabitants were the victims of any great sorrow or strong emotion of any kind whatever. The influence is felt sometimes for years, and is frequently of such a character and force as to compel the victim to vacate the premises. No ghost is seen or heard, but the influence is felt, and cannot be thrown off. Doubtless many such experiences may be attributed to suggestion,—the person having been informed of some tragic event which once happened on the premises. But many cases are recorded which cannot be thus explained. Cases are numerous where the percipient knew nothing whatever of the history of the house or of its former inhabitants.
The phenomenon is explained by spiritists by referring it to the agency of spirits of the dead. Others explain it on the theory of psychometry. That the latter explanation is not the true one is evidenced by the fact that psychometry itself is explicable on the well-known principles of telepathy. That the spirit hypothesis is not the true one is evidenced by the fact that the influence is felt when there has been no death on the premises,—when all the former inhabitants of the house are still alive. Nor is the influence necessarily a bad one. Thus, a lady of my acquaintance, who is peculiarly sensitive to psychic impressions, informs me that in one house, which she occupied some years ago, she was seized with an intense longing to study art. She had passed the age at which people usually take up a new profession, and she had never been particularly interested in art. She had no acquaintances who were artists, and there was nothing in her environment specially to attract her attention to the subject. Nevertheless, her desire to become an artist grew stronger and stronger, until she felt forced to yield. She finally employed a teacher, and eventually became very proficient. It was afterwards ascertained that the tenant who occupied the house before she took possession was an enthusiastic devotee of art. He was not a particularly good artist, but his whole soul was bound up in his profession.
The same lady occupied a house some years later which she felt obliged to leave, on account of the evil influence which it seemed to exert upon her. It was an almost ideal house in its appointments and in the arrangement of its rooms; and when she first entered it she was enthusiastic in her admiration of it. But she never spent a comfortable day in that house. Naturally of a cheerful and happy disposition, she became gloomy and despondent, without any apparent cause, and was at last forced to yield to her feelings and vacate the premises. An inquiry into the history of the house revealed the fact that it had formerly been occupied by a lady whose husband had ill-treated her, and had finally deserted her, under circumstances of peculiar atrocity, to live with a mistress. The history of that house from the time when the afflicted lady left it has been one of constant change of tenants. Other houses in the same row, built upon the same plan and owned by the same person, have no such history. No death has ever occurred in the house, either tragic or otherwise, and consequently it cannot be said to be haunted in the ordinary acceptation of the term; that is, by spirits of the dead.
But is it not haunted, nevertheless? Is it not haunted by the thoughts engendered from the mental agony of that poor woman whose life was blasted by the perfidy of an unfaithful husband,—a man whose subsequent career was one of disgrace and infamy?
I make these suggestions tentatively, and for the purpose of directing the attention of those interested to a line of investigation which should not be ignored by students of the new psychology. It is cognate with the phenomenon of haunted houses, and may yet be found to be governed by the same laws. If it is true that a visible ghost is but an embodied thought of a dying man, may it not be true that any great emotion can leave its impress upon the locality in which it is experienced? It may not be visible to the objective senses, but it may have the power to impress the subjective minds of those who are brought within its environment, and to create in them the same emotions as those experienced by the former occupants of the premises. It seems to be another form of telepathy, cognate with the phantom of the dead, differing only in the strength and character of its manifestation. It may not be visible, for the reason that the thought cannot be pictured by a vision. It may be an abstract thought, idea, or emotion, which can be transmitted to others by impression only; or the emotion which created it may not have been strong enough to project a visible phantom.
Telepathy, therefore, appears to be divisible into three generic classes, differing principally in the methods or means of percipience,—the processes of projection being the same in all.
The first is a thought sent from one living person to another for the purpose of communicating information to that one individual. It is perceived by that person only,—usually by means of visions,—and it instantly fades away when its mission is accomplished.
The second is a thought sent from a dying person to the world at large to communicate some fact of portentous import. It is sometimes made visible to the objective senses, and is always confined to one locality, which it haunts till its object is accomplished.
The third partakes of the characteristics of the first and second. It is created by a living person, and is confined to one locality. It is not sent to any particular individual, but impresses whoever inhabits the house or room it haunts.
It will be understood by the intelligent reader that these three classes are not separated by any distinct lines of demarcation, but that each possesses characteristics common to the others.
In concluding this branch of the subject we have but one further remark to make concerning those hypothetical spirits which are popularly believed to be able to make themselves visible to mortal eyes. If it is true that the power exists in mankind to create phantoms, to project visions which may become visible to others, objectively or subjectively, we have the logical right to infer that all so-called spirits, such as elementals, elementaries, et id genus omne, are creations of the subjective minds of those who believe in their existence.
As remarked in beginning this chapter, it is written tentatively, hoping to suggest an enlargement of the field of investigation of the subject of telepathy. That power has been found to afford an explanation of so much of psychic phenomena which had before been referred to extramundane origin that it seems probable that it may be capable of still further service in that direction. The phenomena of ghosts and haunted houses seem to be the only demonstrated phenomena of which telepathy has not been shown to be at least a partial explanation; and if it can be shown that ghosts are also the creations of subjective power, there will be nothing left for superstition to fright the world withal.