FURTHER THOUGHTS ON APPARITIONS.
by Harvey Goodwin,
the Bishop of Carlisle
(1818-1891)
THE
publication of an essay on the subject of apparitions in the
CONTEMPORARY REVIEW
(January, 1884) has been the cause
of a variety of communications, which have been addressed to me by
old friends as well as by strangers. Amongst them is one from the
well-known Cambridge mathematician, Dr. Percival Frost, in which
he writes inter alia as follows:
"I wish you had taken the case of hearing a sound in your mind's
ear quite as common as the apparition. I don't think you would
have spoken of the little anvils, and hammers, and harp-strings by
which the external vibrations would have been transmitted to the
brain."
This remark has suggested to me that it might be well to
consider generally the possibility of communications between one mind
and another mimicking (so to speak) any one of the senses not the
sense of sight only. The communication of an impression to the
brain, and so of a thought or perception to the mind, comes (as we
know) generally through the senses. The senses are the gateways
of knowledge; gateways of very different magnitudes and different
degrees of dignity all gateways, nevertheless; and in the normal
condition of communication between the external world and the
mind, there is commonly no doubt or question as to which gate it is
through which any given communication has been transmitted;
though even here it may be noted that the transmission itself, and
not the particular mode of transmission, is so much the more important
point, that frequently we forget, rapidly and without difficulty,
which gateway it was through which some particular knowledge
entered the mind. We know, for example, that a certain thing has
happened; but we sometimes cannot satisfy ourselves whether we
saw it in a newspaper, or whether we heard it from the mouth of some
informant. Hearing and seeing are, in fact, so completely recognized
as partners in the conveyance of knowledge, that they are not
unfrequently confused with each other, and either may pass under the
title of the other without offence or jealousy. Thus, in replying to
the letter of a friend, who announces his arrival at the end of a
journey, one writes naturally enough, "I am glad to hear of your
safe arrival," though the writer has never heard anything, but only
seen the news in a letter; and, on the other hand, a person listening
to an explanation from one with whom he is arguing by word of
mouth, says equally naturally, "Yes, I see what you mean," though
sight has, in fact, never been called in aid. Thus, one gateway of
knowledge may be familiarly changed for another without any evil
result; and, as I have already said, there may sometimes be a doubt
as to the particular gate by which any given piece of knowledge has
found access to the mind.
What will be the case, if it be possible as at least for argument
may be supposed for one mind to act upon another, not directly
through the senses, but by what I have called a mimicry of the
senses? This action upon the mind has acquired, amongst the
members of the Psychical Research Society, the name of Telepathy.
Let us adopt the name, for it seems to be a useful one adopt it, of
course, without absolutely assuming that it corresponds to anything real
and actual, but only as a convenient expression for something the reality
and actuality of which it is our purpose to investigate. Using then
this terminology, the question before us is, will telepathic
communication simulate one sense rather than another? Can that reverse
action, which in my former paper I speculatively suggested in the
case of the eye, be suggested as possible in the case of the ear, or of
any other organ of the senses?
The answer to such questions as these may well be prefaced by a
few remarks upon the position of sight amongst the senses. It will,
I suppose, be at once recognized as facile princeps amongst the
teachers of the mind. It is no doubt wonderful to what an extent
hearing can take the place of seeing when the eyes have become
blind. The mind seems almost to develop new powers, specially in
the direction of memory, and in drawing conclusions from slight
inarticulate sounds, scarcely perceived by those who can see. The
sense of touch, also, in the case of the blind, frequently strengthens
to a wondrous degree, and becomes almost a new sense. There are
even cases in which touch supplies a medium of communication to
those who are both blind and deaf. Moreover, the relative values of
seeing and hearing are different, if I am not mistaken, in different
persons: some acquire knowledge more readily by the eye, some by
the ear. Still, speaking generally, the eye is the chief and highest
organ of sense, the supreme external bodily instrument of mental
power; and thus it comes to pass that the kingly prerogative of
sight is stretched, as prerogatives are apt to be, beyond its due limit.
Language is framed not unfrequently upon the implied assumption
that the eye is the only test of the material and sensible, instead of
being the chief and most indubitable. Thus, for example, we speak
of visible and invisible as exhaustive of all that exists. In the Nicene
Creed the Almighty Father is described as "Maker of heaven and
earth, and of all things visible and invisible." The phrase is sufficient
for its purpose, and for use in a popular universally repeated
formula is better than one which might attempt more scientific
exactness better, for example, than if the phrase had been used
"material and spiritual." Nevertheless, the phrase, when carefully
examined, is certainly open to the objection that it arrogates to the
eye a prerogative of distinguishing between one department of creation
and another which does not belong to it, and for which it is
inadequate. Visible implies the quality of being seen; but seen by
whom or by what? An object may be visible to one eye and
invisible to another. Vision depends, also, upon the presence of some
illuminating power: objects are as material in a dark night as in
the daytime, but they may be quite invisible. It is probable
that vision in the case of insects is a very different power from what
it is in the case of quadrupeds or men. Moreover, there are portions
of the material universe, say the medium, the vibrations of which
constitute light, or the electric fluid, if there be such a thing,
concerning which it may possibly be asserted that they are actually
invisible. The luminiferous ether, in fact, must be invisible, because
it is the means by which everything is seen, and therefore cannot be
seen itself. So that visible and invisible will not mean exactly the
same thing as material and spiritual. Both phrases may be entirely
exhaustive of creation, because it may be said that whatever is not
included in the one category will be included in the other; but the
dividing line in the two classifications will not necessarily be the
same. You may have that which is material and which yet is
invisible; material and visible need not be co-extensive, and cannot in
fact be so.
Nevertheless, that visible and material are commonly regarded as
synonymes may be concluded from such a phrase as that which has
been adopted as the title of their book by the authors of the
"Unseen Universe." It gives a marvellous emphasis to the sublime
passage, "Let there be light, and there was light," to consider that
so far as we know the universe might have existed without light;
the non-existence of the luminiferous ether appears to be mentally
conceivable; and even if this be not so, there would seem to be no
necessary reason why the vibrations of the ether should find an
instrument such as the eye to receive them and to convert them
into sight. We have no such organ adapted to electric agency; it
is only in the most recent times that the action of electricity has
been so converted as to become perceptible by eye and ear. Yet
what a different creation a universe in this signification of the
term unseen must have been; unseen, not because in its nature
spiritual, and on that account invisible, but because the medium of
sight, or the optical mechanism, or both, had been left out of the
creational scheme.
Now let us return to the question which has been proposed
namely, whether a reverse action may not be conceived in the case
of other senses than that of sight. To make what is here advanced
intelligible, let me remind the reader of what is meant by the
reverse action of which I speak. I have urged in my former essay
that if, as is undoubtedly the case, an object affects the eye by means
of luminous vibrations, which, falling on the retina, convey their
effect to the brain, and there, by a mysterious process which it
baffles us to conceive, are transmuted into thought or mental
perception, then it is at least conceivable that the same thought or
mental perception may be produced by some other action upon the
mind, and that when so produced it may cause the belief that it
proceeds from an external object acting upon the brain, and so upon
the mind through the optical machinery of the eye. If it be asked,
supposing this true of sight, Why not of the other senses? I reply,
Why not? A priori, I know of no reason why it should be true of
one of the gateways of knowledge rather than of another, except
that, in accordance with the views above expounded, I should be
disposed to expect that sight, being beyond all doubt the grandest
and most important gateway, would exhibit more examples of the
process than any other.
And this expectation seems to me to coincide with fact and
experience, so far as fact and experience can be admitted to exist
in this mysterious region. Let us examine what the several senses
have to say for themselves.
1. First, take hearing. In the vulgar ghost story the ear has
sufficient occupation; clanking of chains, rustling of dresses, all
kinds of uncanny sounds, have their recognized place. A ghost
story would lack much of its creepiness if it confined itself to the
sense of sight, though undoubtedly many do so confine themselves.
But in apparition stories, of a kind which would be accepted by the
Psychical Research Society, sound is not always wanting. For
example: in a most strange tale, published in the July number of
the Nineteenth Century, by Messrs. Gurney and Myers, on the
personal testimony of Sir Edmund Hornby, the sense of hearing
plays almost, if not quite, as important a part as the sense of seeing.
Taking a broad view of apparition stories, the claims of which to
acceptance are respectable, I think it may be said that while sight,
as the very name apparition implies, is the sense chiefly simulated, it
is impossible to exclude narratives in which the sense of hearing
occurs. It may be a result of that marvellous instinct which lifts
Shakspeare almost out of the level of ordinary human intellect,
that the ghost of Hamlet's father is represented as appealing to
sight more frequently and (so to speak) more readily than to hearing.
Horatio, when he first opened the mystery to Hamlet, had seen the
ghost and was certain of its personality, but had never heard it
speak: speech first showed itself under the influence of Hamlet
himself.
If we look to the reason of the thing, it is difficult to suppose that
communications to the mind by some spiritual agency would be
confined to the mimicry of sight and not extend to hearing. For if the
communication be made for any special purpose, that purpose may
conceivably be unattainable by simple vision; vision may be enough,
but also it may be insufficient; if the purpose of the communication
be the giving of some definite knowledge, the latter would probably
be the case. Hence, I suppose, it is that those Divine communications
which are recognized in Holy Scripture universally involve
speech: "The Lord said unto him in a vision"
εἶπεν
πρὸς
αὐτὸν
ἐν
ὁράματι;*
the extraordinary conditions of the communication
are all implied in the term vision; but the vision is for the very
purpose, and only for the purpose, of conveying a direction which
could only be given under the form of speech. In fact, in the case
now cited there is no record of sight being called into play at all;
the command to Ananias is represented as being given by a voice,
and the utterer of the words remains, so far as the history informs
us, unseen throughout the interview.
To quote another case from Holy Scripture, we read of the first
revelation being made to Samuel by a voice: "The Lord called
Samuel, and he answered, Here am I." The whole of the interview
was vocal; in fact, it was He who is emphatically the unseen
God that revealed himself to the child prophet. Yet the writer tells
us that "Samuel feared to show Eli the vision."* The highest
attribute of God is that He is unseen and may not be represented by
a visible image; but the Word of God is the keynote both of the
Old Testament and of the New.
In reality, it is impossible to keep seeing and hearing clear of
each other. A word used by myself, in each of the two preceding
paragraphs may be cited as a witness. I have spoken of an interview
being vocal, and of a speaker being unseen in an interview; and
probably there is no incorrectness in doing so; yet an interview, by
the very composition of the word, implies sight; view cannot be
vocal. Nevertheless, in the interviewing of which, in these days, we
know so much, the mere seeing of some illustrious visitor is
manifestly of second-rate importance, or perhaps of no importance at
all; the essence of interviewing consists in the extraction of information
or the ascertaining of opinion. A newspaper correspondent
could carry on an interview from behind a curtain almost as easily
as in broad daylight; sight, which is the essence of the name, may
be disregarded in considering the thing.
To return, however, to the main question. I know of no good
reason why, if the reverse process suggested in the case of seeing be
possible, the same reversal should not take place in the case of
hearing. The difficulty which I feel is to assign a reason why, in
some cases, one sense should be chosen as the medium of communication
rather than the other. Supposing, for example, that it is
possible for a man who has been drowned to communicate the fact
to one yet in the body, it is difficult to say that an appearance to the
eye in clothes dripping with water is more appropriate than the
uttering of the sentence, "I have just been drowned while bathing."
But it is manifest that we have not data enough to enable us to deal
with the problem in this fashion; we cannot say what is appropriate
or inappropriate in such a subject; some may regard any kind of
communication with the mind, except through the senses, as
inappropriate, or even as impossible. But we are in the position of persons
having alleged facts with which to deal; and if the alleged facts have
sufficient evidence upon which to rest, it may be our duty to consider
whether they are so absolutely incredible, per se, as to make
them unworthy of discussion, and to render it waste of time to
attempt to bring them even approximately within the limits of
scientific thought. The mode of regarding the competing claims of
sight and sound which commends itself most to my own judgment
is this: grant the possibility of a communication to the mind made
directly and not through the senses, and it will then depend upon
conditions, of which we have no knowledge, whether the communication
presents itself under the form of sight or of hearing, or of the
two combined.
There is a fine passage in the Book of Job, in which this
combination is expressed in language of genuine poetry:&151;
"In thoughts from the visions of the night, when deep sleep falleth on
men,
"Fear came upon me, and trembling, which made all my bones to shake.
"Then a spirit passed before my face; the hair of my flesh stood up;
"It stood still, but I could not discern the form thereof; an image was
before mine eyes; there was silence, and I heard a
voice."*
2. I proceed now to discuss with reference to the subject in hand
the sense of feeling.
This shall be done by quoting from a letter written to me by a
medical correspondent in connection with my former article. My
correspondent writes as follows:
"With reference to your article in this month's
CONTEMPORARY, which I
have just read with very great pleasure, it occurred to me whilst reading it
that there are certain physiological facts which give support to your views of
reverse action. One, and perhaps the most striking, is the familiar one of
irritation of any part of a nerve being referred by the consciousness to the
terminal expansion of it, and this even when the end is cut off, as in the
case of the amputated limb. This is a clear case of reverse action. There
are also instances of hallucinations of sight, hearing, and taste, due
doubtless to the same mode of action, the cause in the latter instances being
morbid; but even a morbid activity establishes the possibility of such
activity, and where there is morbid action there is also a field for healthy
action.
"Granting the supposition of direct spiritual communications, it is in the
highest degree probable that the ideational centres of the brain will be
stimulated in action, and through them the nerves that lead to the senses,
and so the result to which you refer will be brought about. More
especially is this likely to be the case during sleep, which is a state highly
favourable to the objective projection of images in the mind."
The remarks here quoted cover a wider surface than that in
connection with which they have been adduced; but I have thought it
best to give them in their completeness, as illustrative of the whole
subject with which I am dealing. The physiological fact adduced
namely, that of apparent sensation in a foot after the foot has been
amputated, differs from the case of apparent vision when there is no
actual external object to stimulate the eye in this namely, that
although the foot is gone the nerves still exist, and are in
communication with the brain, although their extremities are removed;
whereas in the case of vision all the machinery is there, and we must
suppose the machinery put in motion in an absolutely abnormal
manner; but there is a strong analogy and resemblance between
the two cases nevertheless, for in both the mind is deceived by an
abnormal action; in the one case, the man sees, as he believes, an
object which has no existence; in the other he feels, as he believes,
pain or itching in a foot which equally has no existence. In this
way, therefore, one case explains and supports the other.
But regarding the sense of feeling with reference to telepathic
phenomena, no illustration can be more remarkable or more complete
than that afforded by the experience of Mrs. Arthur Severn, as
detailed in the May number of the Nineteenth Century. Here we
have testimony, apparently irrefragable, of a wife imagining herself,
or believing herself, to be the subject of a blow actually experienced
by the husband at a distance from the wife, and with no possibility
of any communication with her, saving such as may be called spiritual.
No apparition theory can easily be more wonderful, in a certain sense
more incredible, than this; yet it may be said, not only that it
would seem difficult to shake the evidence, but also that if in any
circumstances and under any conditions telepathy be possible, there
would seem to be no reason why the communication should not
mimic the sense of feeling as much as that of seeing or hearing.
3. My correspondent, whom I quoted not long ago, speaks of
hallucinations of taste being as certain as those of sight and hearing.
An instance which occurred within my own knowledge a short time
since may be enough for my present purpose.
A young woman, whom I will call A, suffered much from headache,
and asked another young woman, whom I will call B, whether
she could give her relief. B said she thought she could do so, and
went upstairs for a dose of sal volatile. Finding her bottle empty, with
the exception of a few drops, and wishing not to disappoint her friend,
she determined upon a bold experiment. Putting a drop or two into
a glass she filled the glass with water, and carried the dose to her
suffering friend. A put the amateur medicine to her lips, and
remarking that it was very nasty to the taste, swallowed it. The
result was that the headache departed; and so remarkable was the
success, that the dose was repeated for several days, always with the
like effect; and when A and B separated, A made petition that she
might have the prescription for this marvellous medicine. The
curative power of this harmless treatment is a matter upon which I
shall have something to say presently; the point to which I now
direct attention is the hallucination of taste. The nasty flavour
which A experienced could not have originated in the fluid (which
practically was merely water) acting upon the tongue; but must, I
suppose, have originated in the brain itself, or in that part of the
mind which deals with taste, if there be a department of the mind in
which such vulgar business is transacted. The result is parallel to
that of an apparition, or of a man having sensation in his toes when
his foot has been amputated. Cases such as that which I have
adduced do not illustrate directly the telepathic side of the subject;
but they show that the sense of taste, like the other senses, is subject
to hallucination, and I should not be surprised to hear of persons
being so brought into rapport that a taste experienced by one should
be imagined as an experience by the other.
4. The remaining sense is that of smelling, concerning which, I
confess, there is not much to be said. It is no doubt in a certain
manner and degree a gateway of the mind; but it has this
peculiarity, that it becomes more narrow and less passable as the mind itself
becomes elevated and refined. Taking a general view of the animal
kingdom, with man as the head of it, we may say that the sense of
smelling is of almost supreme importance in some departments of
the kingdom, but that with civilized man it has become nearly
extinct, and chiefly noticeable in connection with such things as
lavender-water and eau de Cologne.
Hence, although for the sake of completeness and symmetry I
have mentioned this almost discarded sense, I have nothing to advance
respecting it in furtherance of my general argument.
Passing away then from the consideration of the particular senses
into the general discussion of the subject which includes them
all, I think it may be maintained with some considerable force of
argument
(1) That there may be, and sometimes is, exhibited a reversal of
the ordinary process, according to which the senses are the inlets to
the mind of the perception of external things; so that the mind is
affected first, and produces as an effect either an actual or an
imagined sensation.
(2) That there is not a little evidence to show that this mental
affection sometimes arises from the sympathy of other minds, and
even from the influence of those who are no longer alive in the
body.
The first of these two propositions is much the simpler of the two;
it is only in the second that we trench upon the land of telepathy
and ghosts. Nevertheless, the first is important in itself, and helps
so much towards the second, that it may be worth while to dwell
upon it for a few moments.
Take as an illustration results which are said to arise from
imagination. We are told that the worst preparation for the
cholera is to be afraid of it, and that the belief that you have got
the complaint is not unlikely to verify itself. This may or may not
be true; but the same kind of result can be placed beyond all doubt
by actual observation in a less terrible field. Let me give an
example. A gentleman was leaving Ostend in company with a
friend who was an excessively bad sailor and dreaded
the passage.
Having two or three hours to wait until the tide served for the
starting of the steamer, the bad sailor retired to his berth and
prepared for the worst. After an hour or more his friend, going
down to see him, found him in the horrors of sea-sickness, although
the ship had all the time been as immovable as the pier to which
she was moored. Most persons have met with experiences similar
to that here related, and the common explanation is that "it is all
fancy." But why should fancy produce such results? One can
understand that a person dreading some particular misery may fall
asleep and dream that he is undergoing it, but that the mind by the
process of dread should produce the very physical condition which
is connected with the dread, is certainly a very remarkable result.
and one which would scarcely have been anticipated. And I do not
say that to speak of reversing the order of operations between the
senses, the brain, and the mind can really explain the phenomenon,
but certainly this theory of reversal seems to enable us to comprehend
better than we otherwise should what takes place; and the
phenomenon seems to indicate that this is the method of operation,
and that we have in this view at least a partial explanation of what
we mean when we say that a curious result is "all fancy" or "all
imagination." It is possible that in this view is to be found the key
to such strange experiences as the alleged stigmata of St. Francis.
It seems to me also that I may claim as corroborative evidence of
the view which I am now putting forward, the opinions of that
remarkable man, James Hinton. Those who have read his life will
remember how much importance he attached to the medical theory
which he described as curing by the emotions. It seemed to him
that the solution of the mysteries of homœopathy and the reconciliation
of homœopathists with the orthodox school of medicine was
to be found in the supposition that the emotions of the mind might
be made the originations of the curative process. Of course I, as
a layman in medical matters, pronounce no opinion upon a medical
question; but, in connection with the views of this paper, I venture
to introduce two or three passages from Mr. Hinton's letters. In
one of them he writes as follows:
"To come to my work. The last month has been an invaluable one to me.
I have made a great step in knowledge, and have gained a great accession of
humility. I have become wise, and discovered that I was a fool. . . . .
My grand discovery is nothing but that simple fact I told you of before,
which has been embodied in the common proverb that fancy kills or fancy
cures. . . . .
"Twenty years ago a doctor was walking through a field of peas. He took
a few in his hand, and as he meditated he rolled them between his fingers.
While thus engaged, he passed by a house where lived a woman deranged in
health. She thought if a doctor was rolling anything in his hand it must be
a pill, and asked him to give her some, for she had taken much medicine, and
could get no better. He gave her two peas; she took them; the next day he
called, and found that they had cured her. . . .
"Now, if he had studied that fact, as God commanded him, what might he
have done? First, he might have spared the world a great part of the
nonsense that has been talked about mesmerism, electro-biology, and homœopathy,
and have saved from pollution the paper on which have been printed the
cruel rules with which mankind have been persecuted on these subjects.
Secondly, he might have brought into practical use a mighty agent for the
relief of our suffering fellow-creatures that God has entrusted to us."
Again, in another letter:
"I'll tell you why women were made to blush. It is that I might discover
by means of it how it is that anything that acts on the emotions will cause
and cure disease.
"I think the matter is so plain that I can explain it to you in a very few
words. It is as plain as the reason why water rises in a pump namely,
that the air presses it; but that was as mysterious while people didn't know
that the air had any weight, as it is now how an infinitesimal dose should cure
a disease, the mystery being simply that people haven't yet discovered that
the emotions have weight.
"Mr. Astley Cooper published in his lectures (thirty years ago) that the
only cause he could discover for cancer was mental distress; and that, he was
sure, would produce it. The whole medical world has read these lectures
since; and yet, now go to a medical man, and tell him that a cancer has been
cured by the production of emotions, and he will laugh at you.
"If a person loses too much blood he has a headache, which is due to
there being too little blood in the brain, and the vessels, accordingly, too much
contracted. Now, we have seen that depressing emotions contract the
blood-vessels, and as such an emotion produces a headache precisely the same as
that which is caused by loss of blood, I presume that the same physical condition exists in both cases namely, a contracted state of the
blood-vessels in
the brain. Now, having got a headache arising from contraction of these
vessels, what is the cure? Of course, relax them. And how shall we do
that" One way will immediately suggest itself to you namely, to produce
a cheerful emotion, which, as you know, is seen to relax the vessels.
Suppose we excite hope; is not the thing done? that is to say, give the patient
a globule. I should think it would cure him. If it won't, my theory is
wrong; but I don't think it is, because a spoonful of water will cure, as
in this case that Mr. F. attended last week. A lady sent for him in a
great hurry, late in the evening. She was very ill, and her friends thought
that she was going to die. She had intense headache, restlessness, vomiting
upon the least movement, and so on in fact, the vessels in her brain were
constricted by fear. Mr. F., like a wise man (having profited by my
experience), gave her a teaspoonful of water. The first dose stopped the
sickness, cured the headache, and sent her to sleep. Is that a mystery 7
The interpretation of it is written easily on every woman's cheek. The hope
relaxed the vessels. I haven't selected this case because the affection was
nervous, but only because I could describe it easily in simple language. I
know of still more striking cases of real disease cured manifestly in the same
way."*
*
"Life and Letters of James Hinton," p. 60.
|
The reader will perceive how strongly these views of a speculative
yet practical medical man bear upon the subject of this essay. Curing
by the emotions of the mind, acting upon matter through mind,
beginning with the higher part of man's being, and making the
higher act upon the lower, may clearly be taken as an example of
that reverse action with which I am endeavouring to deal.
There is something elevating and inspiriting in the thought that the
emotions of the mind can really act as a medicine, that hope may in
some cases be more potent than calomel. If a teaspoonful of water
can act through the emotions, there is no quackery in administering
it; to be cured by fancy is as satisfactory as being cured by drugs;
and it may be that some of the cures which pass for miraculous, and
which it is easier to sneer at than to disprove, may belong to that
wide class in which the emotions play a prominent part. It might
be well to consider some of the tales of the grotto of Lourdes in our
own time, as well as some of more ancient date, in this light.
It is perhaps scarcely necessary to guard against the supposition
that it is intended to imply that there is any necessary connection
between the possibility of a reversed action of the mind and senses,
and the possibility of apparitions, or generally of what may be
described as telepathic phenomena. The reality or unreality of this
whole class of phenomena must, I apprehend, rest upon the question
of sufficiency or insufficiency of evidence. If the evidence be insufficient,
as in the case of a large number of instances it undoubtedly
is, there is an end of the matter; but if, after making every allowance
for superstition, exaggeration, error by transmission, positive blunders,
and intentional invention, there is still much of what commonly
passes for supernatural, and which yet cannot be easily contradicted,
much also which seems to indicate a region in which the ordinary laws
of matter do not possess a monopoly of influence, then it may be that
the consideration of these exceptional facts will be helped by perceiving
that such a reversal of the ordinary sequence of matter and mind
is in some cases demonstrable, and therefore in other cases at least
credible.
With regard to the general question of the possibility of telepathic
action, it may perhaps be asked, and I take this opportunity of
asking, whether antecedently the action of mind upon mind is more
difficult to conceive and believe than the action of matter upon
matter? Yet it is a simple fact, that each particle of matter in
existence is in what may almost be described as vital connection with
every other particle, whatever may be the distance and whatever
amount of matter may intervene. Professor Stokes, in his recently
published volume "On the Nature of Light," refers to a conversation
which he had with the late Sir David Brewster, who, with
reference to the undulatory theory, was "staggered by the idea of
filling space with some substance;" and he then adds, "I cannot
say that this particular difficulty is one which ever presented itself as
such to my own mind. To me the difficulty is rather that of conceiving
such an influence as that of gravitation to extend across an absolute
void." Professor Stokes then quotes a well-known but remarkable
passage from Sir Isaac Newton, who says, "Gravity must be caused
by an agent acting constantly according to certain laws; but whether
this agent be material or immaterial, I leave to the consideration of
my readers."*
*
"On the Nature of Light," p. 15.
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Thus Sir David Brewster had a difficulty in conceiving a universe
of matter, Professor Stokes has the opposite difficulty of conceiving
a vacuum, and Sir Isaac Newton will not exclude the notion of an
immaterial agent; meanwhile the fact remains that, in the case of
gravity, telepathic action takes place universally and invariably. In
the presence of this mysterious, unexplained, and possibly inexplicable
fact, there would seem to be some rashness in asserting the
incredibility of mental telepathy.
And having arrived at this point, I might perhaps bring this essay
to a close; but I am tempted to detain the reader one moment longer.
Amongst the criticisms which my former paper has called forth,
there is one which I think it important to notice, because it contains
a remark which ought to be refuted.
A writer in the periodical entitled Light writes thus:
"There is another matter which I am surprised the Bishop did not take into
consideration. It (i.e., my theory) destroys, I may say pulverizes, all our
confidence in the fact of the Resurrection. If the fact be so, what more
likely than that the Apostles, intensely and eagerly desiring the reappearance
of their Lord on earth according to His own promise, had the usual process
inverted in their own case, and that their minds set in motion the usual
process, instead of an external reality? Away goes all certainty in the
Resurrection away goes all certainty in the administration of justice."
The meaning of the last nine words I do not apprehend; but so
far as certainty in the Resurrection is concerned, I should be grieved
to think that any line written by me could tend to cause a doubt,
and I do not believe that such is likely to be the case. I may,
however, point out, as the suggestion of this possibility has been made,
the very remarkable care taken to guard against the supposition that
the Resurrection was of the nature of an apparition, and that our
Lord's risen body was a phantom body. Let me quote two passages.
"He said unto them, Why are ye troubled? and why do thoughts,
arise in your hearts? Behold my hands and my feet, that it is I
myself. Handle me and see; for a spirit hath not flesh and bone as
ye see me have; and when he had thus spoken he showed them his
hands and his feet."*
Again, in the palmary proof of the reality of
the Resurrection granted to the doubting Apostle Thomas we read:
"Reach hither thy finger, and behold my hands; and reach hither thy
hand, and thrust it into my side: and be not faithless, but
believing."✗
If it were necessary, it might be pointed out that the
notion of "the Apostles intensely and eagerly desiring the reappearance
of their Lord" is one which has no foundation in fact, and,
on the other hand, is contradicted by the historical record; but it
is sufficient for my purpose to observe that if it had been anticipated
by the writers of the New Testament that there would be,
in future ages, a tendency to explain away the Resurrection as an
apparition originating in the minds of the Apostles, and not
corresponding to an objective fact, they could not have framed their records
more carefully and more completely with the apparent intention of
making such a view of the Resurrection altogether untenable. The
universal acceptance of the Apostles' Creed as the symbol of the faith
of Christendom is the evidence of the measure of their success.
H. CARLISLE.
*
St. Luke xxiv. 39, 40.
✗
St. John xx. 27.
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(THE END)