In the fifth class the reader’s credence will be much tested. Many of the Scripture miracles were not a whit more difficult to believe. In fact, some were precisely the same. Professional frauds have created much hostility to the idea of anyone possessing clairvoyance. But the somewhat amusing fact is that every human being is a clairvoyant—which could be shown beyond disagreement if the doubter were placed in the mesmeric trance. An instructive experiment has lately been told me, in which the same patient, Grace ——, was used. A Mrs. Fuller, an invalid in the hospital, was anxious about her daughter, who had not lately written. Dr. Chapin, one of the house doctors, was the actuator. Under his will the faculties of Grace —— were made to see the child, then about thirty miles off. She described Mrs. Fuller’s home, its interior, the daughter coming from school with her books, whom she talked to, what she said, the precise time on a peculiar old clock in the room, and a call on a neighbor then made by the daughter—all of which was afterward proved to have been correctly reported. I mention Dr. Chapin’s work because it relieves me of some of the seeming egotism which a recital of this kind enforces, and because my own experiments, which were, in effect, precisely the same, though different in detail, have been published elsewhere.[16]
As if these facts were not astounding enough, we come finally to a sixth class, in which we find that these marvels can be produced by one’s own will-power acting on one’s own interior faculties—the proofs of which I have already published.
Now here, I submit, we get our right clew to the true position of man in history. We now see why great men had always to be possessed of peculiar will-power. They were great when the intensities of their ambitions, desires, or necessities forced from their soul-faculties some portions of knowledge which gave them a temporary ascendency, such, for instance, as would provide an advantage in strategy, statecraft, duplicity, treachery, or any other qualities which have assisted men who were leaders. There was no limit to this, for the experiments show that there is some quality in the soul of man that seems to be omniscient, or in direct correspondence with omniscience.
It was always through stress. None have become great in idleness or slackened energies. And as soon as the stress ceased, after the occasion for the intense strivings of years passed, when the fruits of victory were being enjoyed, when the aim of life was simply to hold and not to gain, then the man ceased to be markedly different from others. Then other men lead, because nature’s leaderships are gained by that intensest concentration which forces the best methods from the soul-faculties. Apply this system of nature to any great event of history and you will invariably find it accomplishing the known results. There you will find a man making a name for himself, and, in a sense, making history. Always through stress, strain, and necessity, in the same ways that extraordinary ingenuity comes to men and animals to assist their escape from situations of dire peril. Lock up the human wild beasts who agonize for liberty, and you will find that few jails will hold them. And their escapes may well be called miraculous.
The question then comes back for answer: What about this “universal causation”?—Fate?—the will of God? Here it must be said, as before, that no event of history can be selected which cannot be honestly referred to the intelligence of man when this has been assisted by a partial use of his soul-faculties. When human projects ran foul of natural laws, disaster followed. For instance, the acquirement of a new territory may take a vast amount of energy and heroic fighting—and the will of one man may then be paramount in making a fact of history coupled with his name; but if the army of occupation dies in the swamps of the conquered country, shall the disaster be attributed to God? Shall we not rather say that if the events of history were in His intended control they would be less cruel, less human, less bestial? Can anyone trace a lasting benefit that arose from Napoleon’s career? The meteor disappeared into impalpable dust. The conquered lands returned to their owners. Was any country improved by his coming? He left a bloody trail through Egypt, but not till the last decade has the Egyptian fellah known a whiff of liberty or justice for two thousand years. The only outcome that lasts to the present day is the assisted vanity of the French people, a vanity built on the abilities of one man, which were lost to the country when he died. Does anyone see a trace of the will of God in all this? I do not.
His Corsican mother bore him while she attended her husband in his battles. The offspring was marked for war in his mother’s womb. He was preëminently a natural product; and in him we find indomitable will continually concentrated on faculties which yielded the discernments that made him master of men and master of war. No man came under his scrutiny without feeling that he was read to the core. The weaknesses, strengths, vanities, braveries, and ambitions of others were all read, used, and played upon for one man’s ends. And from Bismarck back to Cyrus we find all the great ones ruling in the same way—through the discernments that are will-forced from the soul-faculties.
But among lesser men, and in everyday life? Here, the same, only in lesser degrees; not with a knowledge of the processes at work, and thus without the conscious direction of effort which would produce more satisfactory results; though often the world is astonished when the extraordinary introspection of some business men enables them to make money in all their dealings. This is not luck. Their amassed wealth is the proof of their life’s strain—almost another name for it. And it should be remarked, in passing, that most of the great ones have been deeply religious in their own ways. Jay Gould was deeply religious in his own way, though I am told he wrecked many. So is Bismarck. So were Wellington and Von Moltke—men who guided frightful carnage. We may smile at the religion which wrecks and kills and prays, but we do not remove the combination; and it is probable that the great ones have been too closely conscious of their own sudden discernments to find a gross materialism possible. It was the same with the pagans. Even Bonaparte had an implicit belief in what he called his lucky star.
The followers of Buckle claim that man is personally hardly more than a cipher in history, that his name is hardly worth writing in the great scroll. But how is this when the fate of Europe rests, as it may rest at this moment, wholly and solely in the faculties of one man? The instinct of hero-worship is too deep-set to be valueless. And the experiments which do so much to explain the sources of increased human knowledge point to the fact that it is in the man of the hour that the history of the hour is written. One leads; the others follow. Gifted he may be, even before he is born; endowed he may be, by forefathers who were clean; but when the event approaches there is always one who more than others realizes the stress, strain, or peril, and in a mighty effort creates from his own faculties a scheme or plan which others are glad to follow.
That is greatness. That is history. That is creation. For creation is of spirit; and man, as these seemingly trivial experiments prove, is also, in part, of spirit. The disasters that may result through other causes from his action are only the proof of his humanness—proof that his strain for enlightenment was not continued. In these ways history is human, but always with a partly secreted and godlike faculty awaiting demand. “Seek, and ye shall find. Knock, and it shall be opened unto you.” The greatest man that ever lived taught this. And whatever he was, or was not, he knew more than any other man.
This article is by no means intended to suggest that the will of God need not be considered in the study of history. When it is proved that human privacy is impossible, and that any ordinary person’s soul may be made to see us at all times, then we may be quite sure that the Giver of these faculties to man possesses them himself and that we are watched both personally and nationally. But the article is intended to suggest that man has progressed and has been great when the exercise of his will-power, or the concentrated desire of prayer, has forced his interior faculties, perhaps through their correspondences, to help him through enlightenment. We find ourselves placed on this planet in total ignorance as to why we came or where we go, but there seems to be one continuous purpose through all—that man shall improve. It may be that high intelligence, combined with experience in all grades of life, is required somewhere else. It may be that in order to gain such experience it must be lived through. There would certainly be no striving if everything came to us as an unearned gift. The disasters resulting from one man’s action are a warning to the next venturer; and if experience is not, or cannot be, sent into a soul as an unearned gift, then the higher wisdom may be non-interference.