In cases of suicide, too, I think the nature of the Phantasms that subsequently appears largely depends on the life led by the suicide—if vicious the hauntings would be due to his earth-bound spirit, if moral to an Impersonating Elemental, but in either case Vice Elementals would in all probability be attached to the spot, when the hauntings would at once become dual (which so frequently happens). Where the suicide is a criminal lunatic or epileptic imbecile, I believe the phenomenon seen is his or her actual spirit—I do not think such people have souls. By spirit, I mean the mere animal side of man's nature—that Force, which is solely directed to the attainment and furtherance of carnal desires; by soul, that Force, which recognizes and strives after all that tends to make the mind pure and beautiful.
With regard to wraithes, i.e., apparitions seen shortly after death, I think that in the majority of cases at all events, it is the actual superphysical body of the deceased that appears, prior to its removal to other spheres, and that, except during this interval, the souls of the rational and moral never return to the material world. In all other cases of hauntings the phenomena are due either to the earth-bound spirits of the depraved, to the silly, i.e., those who, without being actually cruel or lustful, have no capacity for the culture of mind; to criminal lunatics, and epileptic imbeciles; or else to Elementals, benevolent, neutral and otherwise.
CASES.
Mrs. P., the wife of an Army Medical Officer, living in my neighbourhood, says: "Some years ago I was travelling to Southampton, with my little daughter, a child of four. My nephew, who lived in Mare Street, Hackney, asked me to pass the night at his house. It was a large building, with long passages, out of which many doors opened, and, close to the back of it, there lay a cemetery.
"We arrived, to find no one at home but the servants. My nephew had left a message for me, asking me to make myself thoroughly 'at home' and go to bed, if I felt tired after the journey.
"My little daughter and I shared a big room with a double bed. I did not sleep for some time on account of a curious noise. Though there was no wind, all the doors in the passage rattled on their hinges and bumped about, as if someone was going along trying the handles. The noise lasted for some time, and disturbed me a great deal so that I did not sleep at all well.
"In the morning my nephew said, 'Well, Aunt, I hope you were comfortable and had a good night?' 'Oh, everything was comfortable,' I replied, 'but I did not pass a good night. There is something very strange about the doors in your upstairs passage. They seemed to be kicking about on their hinges for hours.'
"He looked at me in rather a curious way, and said, 'I suppose you did not know that my mother died in the room where you slept—in fact, in the very same bed.'
"'Indeed, I did not,' I answered, 'and, if I had known it, I should never have accepted your hospitality.'
"Well, I went on my journey to India, and thought no more about the matter. But, when I returned, a year or two later, I happened to speak of it to one of my nieces, who instantly gave me her experience in the same house.