“Sept. 8, 1803.—Among other guests invited to C—— castle, came the Rev. Henry A——, of Redburgh, and rector of Greystoke, with Mrs. A——, his wife, who was a Miss S——, of Ulverstone. According to previous arrangements, they were to have remained with us for some days; but their visit was cut short in a very unexpected manner. On the morning after their arrival, we were all assembled at breakfast, when a chaise and four dashed up to the door in such haste that it knocked down part of the fence of my flower-garden. Our curiosity was, of course, awakened to know who could be arriving at so early an hour; when, happening to turn my eyes toward Mr. A——, I observed that he appeared extremely agitated. ‘It is our carriage!’ said he; ‘I am very sorry, but we must absolutely leave you this morning.’
“We naturally felt and expressed considerable surprise, as well as regret at this unexpected departure; representing that we had invited Colonel and Mrs. S——, some friends whom Mr. A—— particularly desired to meet, to dine with us on that day. Our expostulations, however, were vain; the breakfast was no sooner over than they departed, leaving us in consternation to conjecture what could possibly have occasioned so sudden an alteration in their arrangements. I really felt quite uneasy lest anything should have given them offence; and we reviewed all the occurrences of the preceding evening in order to discover, if offence there was, whence it had arisen. But our pains were vain; and after talking a great deal about it for some days, other circumstances banished it from our minds.
“It was not till we some time afterward visited the part of the country in which Mr. A—— resides, that we learned the real cause of his sudden departure from C——. The relation of the fact, as it here follows, is in his own words:—
“Soon after we went to bed, we fell asleep: it might have been between one and two in the morning when I awoke. I observed that the fire was totally extinguished; but although that was the case, and we had no light, I saw a glimmer in the centre of the room, which suddenly increased to a bright flame. I looked out, apprehending that something had caught fire, when, to my amazement, I beheld a beautiful boy, clothed in white, with bright locks, resembling gold, standing by my bedside, in which position he remained some minutes, fixing his eyes upon me with a mild and benevolent expression. He then glided gently away toward the side of the chimney, where it is obvious there is no possible egress, and entirely disappeared. I found myself again in total darkness, and all remained quiet until the usual hour of rising. I declare this to be a true account of what I saw at C—— castle, upon my word as a clergyman.”
I am acquainted with some of the family, and with several of the friends of Mr. A——, who is still alive, though now an old man, and I can most positively assert that his own conviction, with regard to the nature of this appearance, has remained ever unshaken. The circumstance made a lasting impression upon his mind, and he never willingly speaks of it; but when he does, it is always with the greatest seriousness, and he never shrinks from avowing his belief, that what he saw admits of no other interpretation than the one he then put upon it.
Now, let us see whether in this department of the phenomenon of ghost-seeing, namely, the lights that frequently accompany the apparitions, there is anything so worthy of ridicule as Grose and other such commentators seem to think.
Of God, the uncreated, we know nothing; but the created spirit, man, we can not conceive of independent of some organism or organ, however different that organ may be to those which form our means of apprehension and communication at present. This organ, we may suppose to be that pervading ether which is now the germ of what St. Paul calls the spiritual body, the astral spirit of the mystics, the nerve-spirit of the clear-seers; the fundamental body, of which the external fleshly body is but the copy and husk—an organ comprehending all those distinct ones which we now possess in the one universal, or, as some of the German physiologists call it, the central sense, of which we occasionally obtain some glimpses in somnambulism, and in other peculiar states of nervous derangement; especially where the ordinary senses of sight, hearing, feeling, &c., are in abeyance; an effect which Dr. Ennemoser considers to be produced by a change of polarity, the external periphery of the nerves taking on a negative state; and which Dr. Passavent describes as the retreating of the ether from the external to the internal, so that the nerves no longer receive impressions, or convey information to the brain; a condition which may be produced by various causes, as excess of excitement, great elevation of the spirit, as we see in the ecstatics and martyrs, over-irritation producing consequent exhaustion; and also artificially, by certain manipulations, narcotics, and other influences. All somnambules of the highest order—and when I make use of this expression, I repeat that I do not allude to the subjects of mesmeric experiments, but to those extraordinary cases of disease, the particulars of which have been recorded by various continental physicians of eminence—all persons in that condition describe themselves as hearing and seeing, not by their ordinary organs, but by some means the idea of which they can not convey further than that they are pervaded by light, and that this is not the ordinary physical light is evident, inasmuch as they generally see best in the dark, a remarkable instance of which I myself witnessed.
I never had the slightest idea of this internal light, till, in the way of experiment, I inhaled the sulphuric ether; but I am now very well able to conceive it: for, after first feeling an agreeable warmth pervading my limbs, my next sensation was to find myself, I can not say in this heavenly light, for the light was in me—I was pervaded by it: it was not perceived by my eyes, which were closed, but perceived internally, I can not tell how. Of what nature this heavenly light was—and I can not forbear calling it heavenly, for it was like nothing on earth—I know not, nor how far it may be related to those luminous emanations occasionally seen around ecstatics, saints, martyrs, and dying persons; or to the flames seen by somnambules issuing from various objects, or to those observed by Von Reichenbach’s patients proceeding from the ends of the fingers, &c. But at all events, since the process which maintains life is of the nature of combustion, we have no reason to be amazed at the presence of luminous emanations; and as we are the subjects of various electrical phenomena, nobody is surprised when, on combing their hair or pulling off their silk-stockings, they hear a crackling noise, or even see sparks.
Light, in short, is a phenomenon which seems connected with all forms of life; and I need not here refer to that emitted by glow-worms, fire-flies, and those marine animals which illuminate the sea. The eyes also of many animals shine with a light which is not merely a reflected one—as has been ascertained by Rengger, a German naturalist, who found himself able to distinguish objects in the most profound darkness, by the flaming eyes of a South American monkey.
“The seeing of a clear-seer,” says Dr. Passavent, “may be called a solar seeing, for he lights and inter-penetrates his object with his own organic light, viz., his nervous ether, which becomes the organ of the spirit;” and under certain circumstances this organic light becomes visible, as in those above alluded to. Persons recovering from deep swoons and trances, frequently describe themselves as having been in this region of light—this light of the spirit, if I may so call it—this palace of light, in which it dwells, which will hereafter be its proper light; for the physical or solar light, which serves us while in the flesh, will be no longer needed, when out of it, nor probably be perceived by the spirit, which will then, I repeat, be a light to itself: and as this organic light—this germ of our future spiritual body—occasionally becomes partially visible now, there can not, I think, be any great difficulty in conceiving that it may, under given circumstances, be so hereafter.