The Ghost Theory of the Origin of Religion
Evolutionary Theory of the Origin of Religion. Facts misunderstood suggest ghosts, which develop into gods. This process lies behind history and experience. Difficulties of the Theory. The Theory of Lucretius. Objections Mr. Tyler’s Theory. The question of abnormal facts not discussed by Mr. Tylor. Possibility that such ‘psychical’ facts are real, and are elements in development of savage religion. The evidence for psychical phenomena compared with that which, in other matters, satisfies anthropologists. Examples. Conclusion.
Among the many hypotheses as to the origin of religion, that which we may call the evolutionary, or anthropological, is most congenial to modern habits of thought. The old belief in a sudden, miraculous revelation is commonly rejected, though, in one sense, religion was none the less ‘revealed,’ even if man was obliged to work his way to the conception of deity by degrees. To attain that conception was the necessary result of man’s reflection on the sum of his relations to the universe. The attainment, however, of the monotheistic idea is not now generally regarded as immediate and instinctive. A slow advance, a prolonged evolution was required, whether we accept Mr. Max Müller’s theory of ‘the sense of the Infinite,’ or whether we prefer the anthropological hypothesis. The latter scheme, with various modifications, is the scheme of Epicurus, Lucretius, Hume, Mr. Tylor, and Mr. Herbert Spencer. Man half consciously transferred his implicit sense that he was a living and rational being to nature in general, and recognised that earth, sky, wind, clouds, trees, the lower animals, and so on, were persons like himself, persons perhaps more powerful and awful than himself. This transference of personality can scarcely be called the result of a conscious process of reasoning. Man might recognise personality everywhere, without much more thought or argument than a kitten exerts when it takes a cork or a ball for a living playmate. But consciousness must have reached a more explicit stage, when man began to ask himself what a person is, what life is, and when he arrived at the conclusion that life is a spirit. To advance from that conclusion; to explain all life as the manifestation of indwelling spirits; then to withdraw the conception of life and personality from inanimate things, to select from among spirits One more powerful than the rest, to recognise that One as disembodied, as superior, then as supreme, then as unique, and so to attain the monotheistic conception, has been, according to the evolutionary hypothesis, the tendency of human thought.
Unluckily we cannot study the process in its course of action. Perhaps there is no savage race so lowly endowed, that it does not possess, in addition to a world of ‘spirits,’ something that answers to the conception of God. Whether that is so, or not, is a question of evidence. We have often been told that this or the other people ‘has no religious ideas at all’. But later we hear that they do possess a belief in spirits, and very often better information proves that, in one stage or other of advance or degradation, the theistic conception of a Maker and Judge of the world is also present. Meanwhile even civilised and monotheistic peoples also admit the existence of a world of spirits of the dead, of ‘demons’ (as in Platonism), of saints (as in Catholicism), of devils, of angels, or of subordinate deities. Thus the elements of religion are universally distributed in all degrees of culture, though one element is more conspicuous in one place or mood, another more conspicuous in another. In one mood the savage, or the civilised man, may be called monotheistic, in another mood atheistic, in a third, practically polytheistic. Only a few men anywhere, and they only when consciously engaged in speculation, assume a really definite and exclusive mental attitude on the subject. The orthodox monotheistic Mussulman has his afreets, and djinns; the Jew, or the Christian, has his angels, the Catholic has his saints; the Platonist has his demons; Superstition has its ghosts. The question is whether all these spiritual beings are only ghosts raised to higher powers: or (in the case of deity), to the highest conceivable power, while, even when this last process has been accomplished, we ask whether other ghosts, on lower grades, continue to be recognised. Meanwhile the whole anthropological hypothesis, whether valid or invalid, lies behind history, behind the experience of even the most backward races at present extant. If it be urged, as by Hume, that the conception of a supreme deity is only a reflection of kingship in human society, we must observe that some monarchical races, like the Aztecs, seem to have possessed no recognised monarchical Zeus; while something very like the monotheistic conception is found among races so remote from the monarchical state of society as to have no obvious distinctions of rank, like the Australian blacks. Moreover the evidence, on such difficult points, is obscure, and fluctuating, and capable of various interpretation. Even among the most backward peoples, the traceable shadow of a monotheistic idea often seems to bear marks of degradation and disuse, rather than of nascent development. There is a God, but He is neglected, and tribal spirits receive prayer and sacrifice. Just as in art there is a point where we find it difficult to decide whether an object is decadent, or archaic, so it is in the study of religious conceptions.
These are a few among the inevitable difficulties and obscurities which haunt the anthropological or evolutionary theory of the origin of religion. Other difficulties meet us at the very beginning. The theory regards gods as merely ghosts or spirits, raised to a higher, or to the highest power. Mankind, according to the system, was inevitably led, by the action of reason upon apparent facts, to endow all things, from humanity itself to earth, sky, rain, sea, fire, with conscious personality, life, spirit; and these attributes were as gradually withdrawn again, under stress of better knowledge, till only man was left with a soul, and only the universe was left with a God. The last scientific step, then, it may be inferred, is to deprive the universe of a God, and mankind of souls.
This step may be naturally taken by those who conceive that the whole process of ghost and god-making is based on a mere set of natural and inevitable fallacies, and who decline to recognise that these progressive fallacies (if fallacies they are) may be steps on a divinely appointed road towards truth; that He led us by a way that we knew not, and a path we did not understand. Yet, of course, it is plain that a conclusion may be correct, although it was reached by erroneous processes. All scientific verities have been attained in this manner, by a gradual modification and improvement of inadequate working hypotheses, by the slow substitution of correctness for error. Thus monotheism and the doctrine of the soul may be in no worse case than the Copernican theory, or the theory of the circulation of the blood, or the Darwinian theory; itself the successor of innumerable savage guesses, conjectures of Empedocles, ideas of Cuvier, of the elder Darwin, of Lamarck, and of Chambers.
At present, of course, the theistic hypothesis, and the hypothesis of a soul, do not admit of scientific verification. The difficulty is to demonstrate that ‘mind’ may exist, and work, apart from ‘matter’. But it may conceivably become verifiable that the relations of ‘mind’ and ‘matter’ are, at all events, less obviously and immediately interdependent, that will and judgment are less closely and exclusively attached to physical organisms than modern science has believed. Now, according to the anthropological theory of the origin of religion, it was precisely from the opposite of the scientific belief,—it was from the belief that consciousness and will may be exerted apart from, at a distance from, the physical organism,—that the savage fallacies began, which ended, ex hypothesi, in monotheism, and in the doctrine of the soul. The savage, it is said, started from normal facts, which he misinterpreted. But suppose he started, not from normal facts alone, but also from abnormal facts,—from facts which science does not yet recognise at all,—then it is possible that the conclusions of the savage, though far too sweeping, and in parts undeniably erroneous, are yet, to a certain extent, not mistaken. He may have had ‘a sane spot in his mind,’ and a sane impulse may have led him into the right direction. Man may have faculties which savages recognise, and which physical science does not recognise. Man may be surrounded by agencies which savages exaggerate, and which science disregards altogether, and these faculties and agencies may point to an element of truth which is often cast aside as a survival of superstition, as the ‘after-image’ of an illusion.
The lowest known stage, and, according to the evolutionary hypothesis, the earliest stage in religion, is the belief in the ghosts of the dead, and in no other spiritual entities. Whether this belief anywhere exists alone, and untempered by higher creeds, is another question. These ghosts are fed, propitiated, receive worship, and, to put it briefly, the fittest ghosts survive, and become gods. Meanwhile the conception of ghosts of the dead is more or less consciously extended, so that spirits who never were incarnate as men become credible beings. They may inform inanimate objects, trees, rivers, fire, clouds, earth, sky, the great natural departments, and thence polytheism results. There are political processes, the consolidation of a state, for example, which help to blend these gods of various different origins into a divine consistory. One of these gods, it may be of sky, or air becomes king, and reflection may gradually come to recognise him not only as supreme, but as, theoretically, unique, and thus Zeus, from a very limited monarchy, may rise to solitary all-fatherhood. Yet Zeus may, originally, have been only the ghost of a dead medicine-man who was called ‘Sky,’ or he may have been the departmental spirit who presided over the sky, or he may have been sky conceived of as a personality, or these different elements may have been mingled in Zeus. But the whole conception of spirit, in any case, was derived, it is argued, from the conception of ghosts, and that conception may be traced to erroneous savage interpretations of natural and normal facts.
If all this be valid, the idea of God is derived from a savage fallacy, though, of course, it does not follow that an idea is erroneous, because it was attained by mistaken processes and from false premises. That, however, is the inference which many minds are inclined to draw from the evolutionary hypothesis. But if the facts on which the savage reasoned are, some of them, rare, abnormal, and not scientifically accepted; if, in short, they are facts demonstrative of unrecognised human faculties, if these faculties raise a presumption that will, mind, and organism are less closely interdependent than science supposes, then the savage reasoning may contain an important element of rejected truth. It may even seem, at least, conceivable that certain factors in the conception of ‘spirit’ were not necessarily evolved as the anthropological hypothesis conceives them to have been.
Science had scarcely begun her secular conflict with religion, when she discovered that the battle must be fought on haunted ground, on the field of the ghosts of the dead. ‘There are no gods, or only dei otiosi, careless, indolent deities. There is nothing conscious that survives death, no soul that can exist apart from the fleshly body.’ Such were the doctrines of Epicurus and Lucretius, but to these human nature opposed ‘facts’; we see, people said, men long dead in our dreams, or even when awake: the Homeric Achilles, beholding Patroclus in a dream, instantly infers that there verily is a shadow, an eidolon, a shadowy consciousness, shadowy presence, which outlasts the death of the body. To this Epicurus and Lucretius reply, that the belief is caused by fallacious inferences from facts, these facts, appearances beheld in sleep or vision, these spectral faces of the long dead, are caused by ‘films peeled off from the surface of objects, which fly to and fro through the air, and do likewise frighten our minds when they present themselves to us awake as well as in sleep, what time we behold strange shapes, and “idols” of the light-bereaved,’ Lucretius expressly advances this doctrine of ‘films’ (an application of the Democritean theory of perception), ‘that we may not believe that souls break loose from Acheron, or that shades fly about among the living, or that any part of us is left behind after death’. 341a Believers in ghosts must have replied that they do not see, in sleep or awake, ‘films’ representing a mouldering corpse, as they ought to do on the Lucretian hypothesis, but the image, or idolon of a living face. Plutarch says that if philosophers may laugh, these long enduring ‘films,’ from a body perhaps many ages deep in dust, are laughable. 341b However Lucretius is so wedded to his ‘films’ that he explains a purely fanciful being, like a centaur, by a fortuitous combination of the film of a man with the film of a horse. A ‘ghost’ then, is, to the mind of Lucretius, merely a casual persistent film of a dead man, composed of atoms very light which can fly at inconceivable speed, and are not arrested by material obstacles. By parity of reasoning no doubt, if Pythagoras is seen at the same moment in Thurii and Metapontum, only a film of him is beheld at one of these two places. The Democritean theory of ordinary perception thus becomes the Lucretian theory of dreams and ghosts. Not that Lucretius denies the existence of a rational soul, in living men, 341c a portion of it may even leave the body during sleep, and only a spark may be left in the embers of the physical organism. If even that spark withdraws, death follows, and the soul, no longer warmly housed in the body, ceases to exist. For the ‘film’ (ghost) is not the soul, and the soul is not the film, whereas savage philosophy identifies the soul with the ghost. Even Lucretius retains the savage conception of the soul as a thing of rarer matter, a thing partly separable from the body, but that thing is resolved for ever into its elements on the death of the body. His imaginary ‘film,’ on the other hand, may apparently endure for ages.
The Lucretian theory had, for Lucretius, the advantages of being physical, and of dealing a blow at the hated doctrine of a future life. For the public it had the disadvantages of being incapable of proof, of not explaining the facts, as conceived to exist, and of being highly ridiculous, as Plutarch observed. Much later philosophers explained all apparitions as impressions of sense, recorded on the brain, and so actively revived that they seemed to have an objective existence. One or two stock cases (Nicolai’s, and Mrs. A.’s), in which people in a morbid condition, saw hallucinations which they knew to be hallucinations, did, and do, a great deal of duty. Mr. Sully has them, as Hibbert and Brewster have them, engaged as protagonists. Collective hallucinations, and the hallucinations of the sane which coincide with the death, or other crisis in the experience of the person who seemed to be seen, were set down to imagination, ‘expectant attention,’ imposture, mistaken identity, and so forth.
Without dwelling on the causes, physical or psychological, which have been said by Frazer of Tiree (1707), Ferrier, Hibbert, Scott, and others, to account for the hallucinations of the sane, for ‘ghosts,’ Mr. Tylor has ably erected his theory of animism, or the belief in spirits. Thinking savages, he says, ‘were deeply impressed by two groups of biological phenomena,’ by the facts of living, dying, sleep, trance, waking and disease. They asked: ‘What is the difference between a living body and a dead one?’ They wanted to know the causes of sleep, trance and death. They were also concerned to explain the appearances of dead or absent human beings in dreams and waking visions. Now it was plain that ‘life’ could go away, as it does in death, or seems to do in dreamless sleep. Again, a phantasm of a living man can go away and appear to waking or sleeping people at a distance. The conclusion was reached by savages that the phantasm which thus appears is identical with the life which ‘goes away’ in sleep or trance. Sometimes it returns, when the man wakes, or escapes from his trance. Sometimes it stays away, he dies, his body corrupts, but the phantasm endures, and is occasionally seen in sleeping or waking vision. The general result of savage thought is that man’s life must be conceived as a personal and rational entity, called his ‘soul,’ while it remains in his body, his ‘wraith,’ when it is beheld at a distance during his life, his ‘ghost,’ when it is observed after his death. Many circumstances confirmed or illustrated this savage hypothesis Breath remains with the body during life, deserts it at death. Hence the words spiritus, ‘spirit,’ πνευμα, anima, and, when the separable nature of the shadow is noticed, hence come ‘shade,’ ‘umbra,’ σκια, with analogues in many languages. The hypothesis was also strengthened, by the great difficulty which savages feel in discriminating between what occurs in dreams, and what occurs to men awake. Many civilised persons feel the same difficulty with regard to hallucinations beheld by them when in bed, asleep or awake they know not, on the dim border of existence. Reflection on all these experiences ended in the belief in spirits, in souls of the living, in wraiths of the living, in ghosts of the dead, and, finally, in God.
This theory is most cogently presented by Mr. Tylor, and is confirmed by examples chosen from his wide range of reading. But, among these normal and natural facts, as of sleep, dream, breath, life, dying, Mr. Tylor includes (not as facts, but as examples of applied animistic theory) cases of ‘clairvoyance,’ apparitions of the dying seen by the living at a distance, second sight, ghostly disturbances of knocking and rapping, movements of objects, and so forth. It is not a question for Mr. Tylor whether clairvoyance ever occurs: whether ‘death-bed wraiths’ have been seen to an extent not explicable by the laws of chance, whether disturbances and movements of objects not to be accounted for by human agency are matters of universal and often well-attested report. Into the question of fact, Mr. Tylor explicitly declines to enter; these things only concern him because they have been commonly explained by the ‘animistic hypothesis,’ that is, by the fancied action of spirits. The animistic hypothesis, again, is the result, naturally fallacious, of savage man’s reasonings on life, death, sleep, dreams, trance, breath, shadow and the other kindred biological phenomena. Thus clairvoyance (on the animistic hypothesis) is the flight of the conscious ‘spirit’ of a living man across space or time; the ‘deathbed wraith’ is the visible apparition of the newly-emancipated ‘spirit,’ and ‘spirits’ cause the unexplained disturbances and movements of objects. In fact it is certain that the animistic hypothesis (though a mere fallacy) does colligate a great number of facts very neatly, and has persisted from times of low savagery to the present age of reason. So here is a case of the savage origin and persistent ‘survival’ of a hypothesis,—the most potent hypothesis in the history of humanity.
From Mr. Tylor’s point of view, his concern with the subject ceases here, it is not his business to ascertain whether the abnormal facts are facts or fancies. Yet, to other students, this question is very important. First, if clairvoyance, wraiths, and the other alleged phenomena, really do occur, or have occurred, then savage man had much better grounds for the animistic hypothesis than if no such phenomena ever existed. For instance, if a medicine-man not only went into trances, but brought back from these expeditions knowledge otherwise inaccessible, then there were better grounds for believing in a consciousness exerted apart from the body than if there were no evidence but that of non-veridical dreams. If merely the dream-coincidences which the laws of chance permit were observed, the belief in the soul’s dream-flight would win less favourable and general acceptance than it would if clairvoyance, ‘the sleep of the shadow,’ were a real if rare experience. The very name given by the Eskimos to the hypnotic state, ‘the sleep of the shadow,’ proves that savages do make distinctions between normal and abnormal conditions of slumber.
In the same way a few genuine wraiths, or ghosts, or ‘veridical hallucinations,’ would be enough to start the animistic hypothesis, or to confirm it notably, if it was already started. As to disturbances and movements of objects unexplained, these, in his own experience, suggested, even to De Morgan, the hypothesis of a conscious, active, and purposeful will, not that of any human being present. Now such a will is hardly to be defined otherwise than as ‘spiritual’. This order of phenomena, like those of clairvoyance and wraiths, might either give rise to the savage animistic hypothesis, or, at least, might confirm it greatly. In fact, if the sets of abnormal phenomena existed, or were held to exist, savage man scarcely needed the normal phenomena for the basis of his spiritual belief. The normal phenomena lent him such terms as ‘spirit,’ ‘shadow,’ but much of his theory might have been built on the foundation of the abnormal phenomena alone. A ‘veridical hallucination,’ of the dying would give him a ‘wraith’; a recognised hallucination of the dead would give him a ghost: the often reported and unexplained movements and disturbances would give him a vui, ‘house spirit,’ ‘brownie,’ ‘domovoy,’ follet, lar, or lutin. Or these occurrences might suggest to the thinking savage that some discontented influence survived from the recently dead.
Four thousand years have passed since houses were haunted in Egypt, and have left some sane, educated, and methodical men to meet the same annoyances as the ancient Egyptians did, by the same measures. We do not pretend to discover, without examination, the causes of the sounds and sights which baffle trained and not superstitious investigators. But we do say that similar occurrences, in a kraal or an Eskimo hut, in a wigwam, in a cave, or under a gunyeh, would greatly confirm the animistic hypothesis of savages. The theory of imposture (in some cases) does undeniably break down, for the people who hold it cannot even suggest a modus operandi within the reach of the human beings concerned, as in the case of the Wesleys. The theory of contagious hallucination of all the senses is the property of Coleridge alone. The hypothesis of a nervous force which sets up centres of conscious action is confined to Hartmann, and to certain Highland philosophers, cavalierly dismissed by the Rev. Robert Kirk as ‘men illiterate’. Instead of making these guesses, the savage thinkers merely applied the animistic hypothesis, which they had found to work very well already, and, as De Morgan says, to colligate the phenomena better than any other theory. We cannot easily conceive men who know neither sleep nor dreams, but if the normal phenomena of sleep and dreams had not existed, the abnormal phenomena already described, if they occurred, as they are universally said to do, could have given rise, when speculated upon, to the belief in spirits.
But, it may reasonably be urged, ‘the natural familiar facts of life, death, sleep, waking, dreams, breath, and shadows, are all versæ causæ, do undeniably exist, and, without the aid of any of your abnormal facts, afford basis enough for the animistic hypothesis. Moreover, after countless thousands of years, during which superstition has muttered about your abnormal facts, official science still declines to hear a word on the topic of clairvoyance or telepathy. You don’t find the Royal Society investigating second sight, or attending to legends about tables which rebel against the law of gravitation.’
These are cogent remarks. Normal facts, perhaps, may have suggested the belief in spirits, the animistic hypothesis. But we do not find the hypothesis (among the backward races) where abnormal facts are not alleged to be matters of comparatively frequent experience. Consequently we do not know that the normal facts, alone, suggested the existence of spirits to early thinkers, we can only make the statement on a priori grounds. Like George Eliot’s rural sage we ‘think it sounds a deal likelier’. But that, after all, though a taking, is not a powerful and conclusive syllogism.
Again, we certainly do not expect to see the Royal Society inquiring into second sight, or clairvoyance, or thought transference. When the Royal Society was first founded several of its members, Pepys, F.R.S.; Mr. Robert Boyle, F.R.S.; the Rev. Joseph Glanvill, F.R.S., went into these things a good deal. But, in spite of their title, they were only amateurs. They had no professional dignity to keep up. They were well aware that they, unlike the late Mr. Faraday, did not know, by inspiration or by common-sense, the limits of the possible. They tried all things, it was such a superstitious age. Now men of science, or the majority of them, for there are some exceptions, know what is, and what is not possible. They know that germs of life may possibly come down on meteorites from somewhere else, and they produced an argument for the existence of a bathybius. But they also know that a man is not a bird to be in two places at once, like Pythagoras, and that nobody can see through a stone wall. These, and similar allegations, they reckon impossible, and, if the facts happen, so much the worse for the facts. They can only be due to imposture or mal-observation, and there is an end of the matter. This is the view of official science. Unluckily, not many years ago, official science was equally certain that the ordinary phenomena of hypnotism were based on imposture and on mal-observation. These phenomena, too, were tabooed. But so many people could testify to them, and they could be so easily explained by the suggestive force of suggestion, that they were reluctantly admitted within the sacred citadel. Many people, sane, not superstitious, healthy, and even renowned as scientific specialists, attest the existence of the still rarer phenomena which are said, in certain cases, to accompany the now more familiar incidents of hypnotism. But these phenomena have never yet been explained by any theory which science recognises, as she does recognise that suggestion is suggestive. Therefore these rarer phenomena manifestly do not exist, and cannot be the subject of legitimate inquiry.
These are unanswerable observations, and it is only the antiquarian who can venture, in his humble way, to reply to them. His answer has a certain force ad hominem, that is, as addressed to anthropologists. They, too, have but recently been admitted within the scientific fold; time was when their facts were regarded as mere travellers’ tales. Mr. Max Müller is now, perhaps, almost alone in his very low estimate of anthropological evidence, and, possibly, even that sturdy champion is beginning to yield ground. Defending the validity of the testimony on which anthropologists reason about the evolution of religion, custom, manners, mythology, law, Mr. Tylor writes:—
‘It is a matter worthy of consideration that the accounts of similar phenomena of culture, recurring in different parts of the world, actually supply incidental proof of their own authenticity.... The test of recurrence comes in.... The possibility of intentional or unintentional mystification is often barred by such a state of things as that a similar statement is made in two remote lands by two witnesses, of whom A lived a century before B, and B appears never to have heard of A.’
If for ‘similar phenomena of culture’ here, we substitute ‘similar abnormal phenomena’ (such as clairvoyance, wraiths, unexplained disturbances), Mr. Tylor’s argument in favour of his evidence for institutions applies equally well to our evidence for mysterious ‘facts’. ‘How distant are the countries,’ he goes on, ‘how wide apart are the dates, how different the creeds and characters in the catalogue of the facts of civilisation, needs no further showing’—to the student of Mr. Tylor’s erudite footnotes. In place of ‘facts of civilisation’ read ‘psychical phenomena,’ and Mr. Tylor’s argument applies to the evidence for these rejected and scouted beliefs.
The countries from which ‘ghosts’ and ‘wraiths’ and ‘clairvoyance’ are reported are ‘distant’; the dates are ‘wide apart’; the ‘creeds and characters of the observers’ ‘are ‘different’; yet the evidence is as uniform, and as recurrent, as it is in the case of institutions, manners, customs. Indeed the evidence for the rejected and abnormal phenomena is even more ‘recurrent’ than the evidence for customs and institutions. Polyandry, totemism, human sacrifice, the taboo, are only reported as existing in remote and semi-civilised countries. Clairvoyance, wraiths, ghosts, mysterious disturbances and movements of objects are reported as existing, not only in distant ages, but today; not only among savages or barbarians, but in London, Paris, Milan. No ages can be more wide apart, few countries much more distant, than ancient Egypt and modern England: no characters look more different than that of an old scribe under Pharaoh, and that of a distinguished soldier under Queen Victoria. Yet the scribe of Khemi and General Campbell suffer from the same inexplicable annoyance, attribute it to the same very abnormal agency, and attempt (not unsuccessfully) to communicate with that agency, in precisely the same way.
This, though a striking, is an isolated and perhaps a casual example of recurrence and uniformity in evidence. Mr. Tylor’s Primitive Culture is itself a store-house of other examples, to which more may easily be added. For example, there is the old and savage belief in a ‘sending’. The medicine-man, or medium, or witch, can despatch a conscious, visible, and intelligent agent, non-normal, to do his bidding at a distance. This belief is often illustrated in the Scandinavian sagas. Rink testifies to it among the Eskimo, Grinnell among the Pawnees: Porphyry alleges that by some such ‘telepathic impact’ Plotinus, from a distance, made a hostile magician named Alexander ‘double up like an empty bag,’ and saw and reported this agreeable circumstance. 352 Hardly any abnormal phenomenon or faculty sounds less plausible, and the ‘spectral evidence’ for the presence of a witch’s ‘sending,’ when the poor woman could establish an alibi for her visible self, appeared dubious even to Cotton Mather. But, in their Phantasms of the Living, Messrs. Gurney and Myers give cases in which a visible ‘sending’ was intentionally emitted by Baron Schrenck Notzing, by a stock-broker, by a young student of engineering, and by a French hospital nurse, to take no other instances. The person visited frequently by the ‘sendings’ in the last cases was a French physician engaged in the hospital, who reports and attests the facts. All the cases are given at first hand on the testimony of the senders and of the recipients of the sendings. Bulwer Lytton was familiar with the belief, and uses the ‘shining shadow’ in A Strange Story. Now here is uniform recurrent evidence from widely severed ages, from distant countries, from the Polar North, the American prairie, Neoplatonic Egypt and Greece, England and New England of the seventeenth century, and England and Germany of today. The ‘creeds and characters of the observers’ are as ‘different’ as Neoplatonism, Shamanism, Christianity of divers sects, and probably Agnosticism or indifference. All these conditions of unvarying testimony constitute good evidence for institutions and customs; anthropologists, who eagerly accept such testimony in their own studies, may decide as to whether they deserve total neglect when adduced in another field of anthropology.
Turning from ‘sendings,’ or ‘telepathy’ voluntarily brought to bear on one living person by another, we might examine ‘death-bed wraiths,’ or the telepathic impact—‘if that hypothesis of theirs be sound’—produced by a dying on a living human being. A savage example, in which a Fuegian native on board an English ship saw his father, who was expiring in Tierra del Fuego, has the respectable authority of Mr. Darwin’s Cruise of the Beagle. Instances, on the other hand, in which Australian blacks, or Fijians, see the phantasms of dead kinsmen warning them of their decease (which follows punctually) may be found in Messrs. Fison and Howitt’s Kamilaroi and Kurnai.
From New Zealand Mr. Tylor cites, with his authorities, the following example: 353 ‘A party of Maoris (one of whom told the story) were seated round a fire in the open air, when there appeared, seen only by two of them, the figure of a relative left ill at home. They exclaimed, the figure vanished, and, on the return of the party, it appeared that the sick man had died about the time of the vision.’ A traveller in New Zealand illustrates the native belief in the death-wraith by an amusing anecdote. A Rangatira, or native gentleman, had gone on the war-path. One day he walked into his wife’s house, but after a few moments could not be found. The military expedition did not return, so the lady, taking it for granted that her husband, the owner of the wraith, was dead, married an admirer. The hallucination, however, was not ‘veridical’; the warrior came home, but he admitted that he had no remedy and no feud against his successor. The owner of a wraith which has been seen may be assumed to be dead. Such is Maori belief. The modern civilised examples of death-wraiths, attested and recorded in Phantasms of the Living, are numerous; but statistics prove that a lady who marries again on the strength of a wraith may commit an error of judgment, and become liable to the penalty of bigamy. The Maoris, no statisticians, take a more liberal and tolerant view. These are comparatively scanty examples from savage life, but then they are corroborated by the wealth of recurrent and coincident evidence from civilised races, ancient and modern.
On the point of clairvoyance, it is unnecessary to dwell. The second-sighted man, the seer of events remote in space or not yet accomplished in time, is familiar everywhere, from the Hebrides to the Coppermine River, from the Samoyed and Eskimo to the Zulu, from the Euphrates to the Hague. The noises heard in ‘haunted houses,’ the knocking, routing, dragging of heavy bodies, is recorded, Mr. Tylor says, by Dayaks, Singhalese, Siamese, and Esths; Dennys, in his Folklore of China, notes the occurrences in the Celestial Empire; Grimm, in his German Mythology, gives examples, starting from the communicative knocks of a spirit near Bingen, in the chronicle of Rudolf (856), and Suetonius tells a similar tale from imperial Rome. The physician of Catherine de Médicis, Ambroise Paré, describes every one of the noises heard by the Wesleys, long after his day, as familiar, and as caused by devils. Recurrence and conformity of evidence cannot be found in greater force.
The anthropological test of evidence for faith in the rejected phenomena is thus amply satisfied. Unless we say that these phenomena are ‘impossible,’ whereas totemism, the couvade, cannibalism, are possible, the testimony to belief in clairvoyance, and the other peculiar occurrences, is as good in its way as the evidence for the practice of wild customs and institutions. There remains a last and notable circumstance. All the abnormal phenomena, in the modern and mediæval tales, occur most frequently in the presence of convulsionaries, like the so-called victims of witches, like the Hon. Master Sandilands, Lord Torphichen’s son (1720), like the grandson of William Morse in New England (1680), and like Bovet’s case of the demon of Spraiton. 355
The ‘mediums’ of modern spiritualism, like Francis Fey, are, or pretend to be, subject to fits, anæsthesia, jerks, convulsive movements, and trance. As Mr. Tylor says about his savage jossakeeds, powwows, Birraarks, peaimen, everywhere ‘these people suffer from hysterical, convulsive, and epileptic affections’. Thus the physical condition, all the world over, of persons who exhibit most freely the accepted phenomena, is identical. All the world over, too, the same persons are credited with the rejected phenomena, clairvoyance, ‘discerning of spirits,’ powers of voluntary ‘telepathic ’and ‘telekinetic’ impact. Thus we find that uniform and recurrent evidence vouches for a mass of phenomena which science scouts. Science has now accepted a portion of the mass, but still rejects the stranger occurrences. Our argument is that their invariably alleged presence, in attendance on the minor occurrences, is, at least, a point worthy of examination. The undesigned coincidences of testimony represent a great deal of smoke, and proverbial wisdom suggests a presumption in favour of a few sparks of fire. Now, if there are such sparks, the animistic hypothesis may not, of course, be valid,—‘spirits’ may not exist,—but the universal belief in their existence may have had its origin, not in normal facts only, but in abnormal facts. And these facts, at the lowest estimate, must suggest that man may have faculties, and be surrounded by agencies, which physical science does not take into account in its theory of the universe and of human nature.
We have already argued that the doctrines of theism and of the soul need not to be false, even if they were arrived at slowly, after a succession of grosser opinions. But if the doctrines were reached by a process which started from real facts of human nature, observed by savages, but not yet recognised by physical science, then there may have been grains of truth even in the cruder and earlier ideas, and these grains of gold may have been disengaged, and fashioned, not without Divine aid, into the sacred things of spiritual religion.
The stories which we have been considering are often trivial, sometimes comic; but they are universally diffused, and as well established as universally coincident testimony can establish anything. Now, if there be but one spark of real fire to all this smoke, then the purely materialistic theories of life and of the world must be reconsidered. They seem very well established, but so have many other theories seemed, that are long gone the way of all things human.
Footnotes
0a Fortnightly Review, February 1866, and in a lecture, 1895.
0b This diary was edited for private circulation, by a son of Mr. Proctor’s, who remembers the disturbances.
0c See essays here on Classical and Savage Spiritualism.
0d This was merely a cheerful obiter dictum by the learned President.
4 Not the house agent.
9 Porphyry, Epistola xxi. Iamblichus, De Myst., iii. 2.
11 The Port Glasgow story is in Report of the Dialectical Society, p. 200. The flooring was torn up; walls, ceilings, cellars, were examined by the police, and attempts were made to imitate the noises, without success. In this case, as at Rerrick in the end of the seventeenth century, and elsewhere, ‘the appearance of a hand moving up and down’ was seen by the family, ‘but we could not catch it: it quietly vanished, and we only felt cold air’. The house was occupied by a gardener, Hugh McCardle. Names of witnesses, a sergeant of police, and others, are appended.
12 Report of Dialectical Society, p. 86.
17a For ourselves, we have never seen or heard a table give any responses whatever, any more than we have seen the ghosts, heard the raps, or viewed the flights of men in the air which we chronicle in a later portion of this work.
17b Report on Spiritualism, Longmans, London, 1871.
18 Report, p. 229.
21 Mr. Wallace may be credited with scoring a point in argument. Dr. Edmunds had maintained that no amount of evidence would make him believe in certain obvious absurdities, say the lions in Trafalgar Square drinking out of the fountains. Mr. Wallace replied: ‘The asserted fact is either possible or not possible. If possible, such evidence as we have been considering would prove it; if not possible, such evidence could not exist.’ No such evidence exists for the lions; for the phenomena of so-called spiritualism, we have consentient testimony in every land, period and stage of culture. That certainly makes a difference, whatever the weight and value of the difference may be.
26a This illustration is not Mr. Lecky’s.
26b We have here thrown together a crowd of odd experiences. The savages’ examples are dealt with in the next essay; the Catholic marvels in the essay on ‘Comparative Psychical Research’. For Pascal, consult L’Amulette de Pascal, by M. Lélut; for Iamblichus, see essay on ‘Ancient Spiritualism’. As to Welsh, the evidence for the light in which he shone is printed in Dr. Hill Burton’s Scot Abroad (i. 289), from a Wodrow MS. in Glasgow University. Mr. Welsh was minister of Ayr. He was meditating in his garden late at night. One of his friends ‘chanced to open a window towards the place where he walked, and saw clearly a strange light surround him, and heard him speak strange words about his spiritual joy’. Hill Burton thinks that this verges on the Popish superstition. The truth is that eminent ministers shared the privileges of Mediums and of some saints. Examples of miraculous cures by ministers, of clairvoyance on their part, of spirit-raps attendant on them, and of prophecy, are current on Presbyterian hagiology. No ministers, to our knowledge, were ‘levitated,’ but some nearly flew out of their pulpits. Patrick Walker, in his Biographia Presbyteriana, vol. ii. p. 21, mentions a supernatural light which floated round The Sweet Singers, Meikle John Gibb and his friends, before they burned a bible. Mr. Gibb afterwards excelled as a pow-wow, or Medicine Man, among the Red Indians.
30 Teutonic Mythology, English translation, vol. ii. p. 514. He cites Pertz, i. 372.
31 A very early turning table, of 1170, is quoted from Giraldus Cambrensis by Dean Stanley in his Canterbury Memorials, p. 103. The table threw off the weapons of Becket’s murderers. This was at South Malling. See the original in Wharton’s Anglia Sacra, ii. 425.
35 See Mr. Tylor’s Primitive Culture, chap, xi., for the best statement of the theory.
38 Petitot, Traditions Indiennes du Canada Nord-Ouest, p. 434.
40 Very possibly the whirring roar of the turndun, or ρομβος, in Greek, Zuñi, Yoruba, Australian, Maori and South African mysteries is connected with this belief in a whirring sound caused by spirits. See Custom and Myth.
41a Proc. S. P. R., xix. 180.
41b Brough Smyth, i. 475.
42 Auckland, 1863, ch. x.
45a εν τινι στερεω χωριω, ωστε μη επιπολυ διαχεισθαι.—Iamblichus.
45b Kohl, Kitchi-Gami, p. 278.
48 Hind’s Explorations in Labrador, ii. 102.
50a Rowley, Universities’ Mission to Central Africa, p. 217: cited by Mr. Tylor.
50b Quoted in La Table Parlante, a French serial, No. I, p. 6.
51 Colonel A. B. Ellis, in his work on the Yorubas (1894), reports singular motions of a large wooden cylinder. It is used in ordeals.
52 The Natural and Morall History of the East and West Indies, p. 566, London, 1604.
53 February 9, 1872. Quoted by Mr. Tylor, in Primitive Culture, ii. 39, 1873.
57 Revue des Deux Mondes, 1856, tome i. p. 853.
60 Hallucinations, English translation, p. 182, London, 1859.
62 Laws, xi.
63 Records of the Past, iv. 134-136.
65a The references are to Parthey’s edition, Berlin, 1857.
65b και λεyομεναι αναyκαι θεων, 4, 3.
65c All are, for Porphyry, ‘phantasmogenetic agencies’.
66a Jean Bréhal, par P.P. Bélon et Balme, Paris, s.a., p. 105.
66b Procès de Condemnation, i. 75.
67a Appended to Beaumont’s work on Spirits, 1705.
67b See Mr. Lillie’s Modern Mystics, and, better, Mr. Myers, in Proceedings S. P. R., Jan., 1894.
68a Origen, or whoever wrote the Philosophoumena, gives a recipe for producing a luminous figure on a wall. For moving lights, he suggests attaching lighted tow to a bird, and letting it loose. Maury translates the passages in La Magie, pp. 58-59. Spiritualists, of course, will allege that the world-wide theory of spectral lights is based on fact, and that the hallucinations are not begotten by subjective conditions, but by a genuine ‘phantasmogenetic agency’. Two men of science, Baron Schrenk-Notzing, and Dr. Gibotteau, vouch for illusions of light accompanying attempts by living agents to transfer a hallucinatory vision of themselves to persons at a distance (Journal S. P. R., iii. 307; Proceedings, viii. 467). It will be asserted by spiritualists that disembodied agencies produce the same effect in a higher degree.
68b θορυβωδη μεν φερομενα τα ενυλα.
69 ηνικα αν αμαρτημα τι συμβαινη περι την θεουρyικην τεχνην.
70a Damascius, ap. Photium.
70b παθη εκ μικρων αιθυyματων εyειρομενα.
71 Life of Hugh Macleod (Noble, Inverness). As an example of the growth of myth, see the version of these facts in Fraser’s Magazine for 1856. Even in a sermon preached immediately after the event, it was said that the dreamer found the pack by revelation of his dream!
72 iii. 2. δοιζομενου εν τω εισιεναι.
73 Greek Papyri in the British Museum; edited by F. G. Kenyon, M.A., London, 1893.
74 See notice in Classical Review, February, 1894.
75a See oracles in Eusebius, Praep. Evang., v. 9. The medium was tied up in some way, he had to be unloosed and raised from the ground. The inspiring agency, in a hurry to be gone, gave directions for the unbinding. παυεο δη προφρων οαρων, αναπαυε δε φωτα ραμνων εκλυων πολιον τυπον, ηδ απο yυιων Νειλωην οθονην χερσιν στιβαραις απαειρας. The binding of the Highland seer in a bull’s hide is described by Scott in the Lady of the Lake. A modern Highland seer has ensconced himself in a boiler! The purpose is to concentrate the ‘force’.
75b Praep. Evang., v. 8.
75c Ibid., v. 15, 3.
78a Dr. Hodgson, in Proceedings S. P. R., Jan., 1894, makes Mr. Kellar’s evidence as to Indian ‘levitation’ seem far from convincing! As a professional conjurer, and exposer of spiritualistic imposture, Mr. Kellar has made statements about his own experiences which are not easily to be harmonised.
78b Proceedings S. P. R. Jan., 1894.
86 The Miraculous Conformist. A letter to the Honourable Robert Boyle, Esq. Oxford: University Press, 1666.
88a Fourth edition, London, 1726.
88b In Kirk’s Secret Commonwealth, 1691. London: Nutt, 1893.
90a In the Salem witch mania, a similar case of levitation was reported by the Rev. Cotton Mather. He produced a cloud of witnesses, who could not hold the woman down. She would fly up. Mr. Mather sent the signed depositions to his opponent, Mr. Calef. But Calef would not believe, for, said he, ‘the age of miracles is past’. Which was just the question at issue! See Beaumont’s Treatise of Spirits, p. 148, London, 1705.
90b Miracles and Modern Spiritualism, p. 7. London: Burns, 1875.
90c Popular Tales, iv. 340.
94 The anecdote is published by Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, in a letter of Lauderdale’s, affixed to Sharpe’s edition of Law’s Memorialls.
95 See Ghosts before the Law.
96 Proceedings S. P. R., xv. 33.
100a See many examples in Li Fiorette de Misser Santo Francesco.
100b Ch. cxviii.
101 D. D. Home; his Life and Mission, p. 307, London, 1888.
102 Sept. 18, vol. v., 1866.
107a See Colonel Yule’s Marco Polo.
107b Quarterly Journal of Science, July, 1871.
108a Proceedings S. P. R., xix. 146.
108b North American Review, 1893.
108c Proceedings S. P. R., x. 45-100; xix. 147.
109a Incidents in my Life, i. 170.
109b A Paris, chez la Veuve du Carroy, 1621.
110a Folklore of China, 1876, p. 79.
110b Op. cit., p. 74.
110c Paris. Quarto. Black letter. 1528. The original is extremely rare. We quote from a copy once in the Tellier collection, reprinted in Recueil de Dissertations Anciennes et Nouvelles sur les Apparitions. Leloup: Avignon, 1751, vol. ii. pp. 1-87.
112 Proceedings S. P. R., xix. 186. ‘C.’ is a Miss Davis, daughter of a gentleman occupying ‘a responsible position as a telegraphist’. The date was 1888.
114a Satan’s Invisible World Discovered. Edinburgh: Reid, 1685. Pp. 67-69.
114b Manuscript 7170, A, de la Bibliothèque du Roi. Dissertations, ut supra, vol. i. pp. 95-129.
115 Dufresnoy, op. cit., i. 95-129.
117 Compare Bastian, Mensch., ii. 393, cited by Mr. Tylor.
118 De Materia Daemon. Isagoge, p. 539. Ap. Corn. Agripp., De Occult. Philosoph. Lyons, 1600.
122 Aubrey gives a variant in his Miscellanies, on the authority of the Vicar of Barnstaple. He calls Fey ‘Fry’.
123a The Devonshire case, ‘Story of a Something,’ in Miss O’Neill’s Devonshire Idylls, is attested by a surviving witness.
123b Trials of Isobell Young, 1629, and of Jonet Thomson, Feb. 7, 1643. Darker Superstitions of Scotland, p. 593.
124 Witness Rev. E. T. Vaughan, King’s Langley. 1884.
125a Segraisiana, p. 213.
125b Crookes’s Notes of an Enquiry into the Phenomena usually called Spiritual. 86. London: Burns (second edition).
126a Satan’s Invisible World Discovered, p. 75.
126b A New Confutation of Sadducism, p. 5, writ by Mr. Alexander Telfair, London, 1696.
129 Primitive Culture, vol. i. 368; ii. 304.
130 The reader may also consult Notes on the Spirit Basis of Belief and Custom, a rough draft printed for the Indian Government. While rich in curious facts, the draft contains very little about ‘manifestations,’ except in ‘possession’.
131a Gregory, Dialogues, iv. 39.
131b De Rerum Varietate, xvi. cap. xciii.
132 De Praestigiis Daemon.
133 Si fallere possunt, ut quis videre se credat, cum videat revera extra se nihil: non poterunt fallere, ut credat quis se audire sonos, quos revera non audit? (p. 81).
135 Proceedings S. P. R., xv. 42.
137 There is one possible exception to this rule.
139 S. P. R., viii. 81.
140a Geschichte des Neueren Occultismus, p. 451.
140b Opera, 1605.
142 S. P. R., vi. 149.
146 Proc. S. P. R., viii. 133.
147 Proc. S. P. R., Nov., 1889, p. 269.
149 This is rather overstated; there were knocks, and raps, and footsteps (Proc. S. P. R., Nov., 1889, p. 310).
150 Proc. S. P. R., April, 1885, p. 144.
151 To be frank, in a haunted house the writer did once see an appearance, which was certainly either the ghost or one of the maids; ‘the Deil or else an outler quey,’ as Burns says.
153 London, 1881, pp. 184-185.
156 S. P. R., xv. 64.
158a Proceedings S. P. R., xvi. 332.
158b Sights and Shadows, p. 60.
165 British Chronicle, January 18, 1762.
166 Annual Register.
167 Praep. Evang., v. ix. 4.
170a Rudolfi Fuldensis, Annal., 858, in Pertz, i. 372. See Grimm’s Teutonic Mythology, Engl. transl., p. 514.
170b Pseudo-Clemens, Homil., ii. 32, 638. In Mr. Myers’s Classical Essays, p. 66.
178 Avignon, 1751.
183 Compare the case of John Beaumont, F.R.S., in his Treatise of Spirits (1705).
186 Proceedings S. P. R., viii. 151-189.
189 Mrs. Ricketts was a sister of Lord St. Vincent, who tried, in vain, to discover the cause of the disturbances. Scott says (Demonology and Witchcraft, p. 360): ‘Who has heard or seen an authentic account from Lord St. Vincent?’ There is a full account in the Journal of the S. P. R. It appeared much too late for Sir Walter Scott also complains of lack of details for the Wynyard story. They are now accessible. People were, in his time, afraid to make their experiences public.
190 The story is told by Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, in his Introduction to Law’s Memorialls, p. xci. Sharpe cites no source of the tradition.
191 We are not discussing Dreams, which are many, but waking hallucinations, which are, relatively rare, and are remembered, unlike Dreams, whether they are coincidental or not.
192 Gurney, op. cit., p. 187.
193a The writer knows a case in which a gentleman, who had gone to bed about eleven p.m., in Scotland, was roused by hearing his own name loudly called. He searched his room in vain. His brother died suddenly, at the hour when he heard the voice, in Canada. But the difference of time proves that the voice was heard several hours before the death. Here, then, is a chance coincidence, which looked very like a case of Telepathy. Another will be found in Mr. Dale Owen’s Debatable Land, p. 364. A gentleman died ‘after breakfast’ in Rhenish Prussia, and appeared, before noon, in New York. Thus he appeared hours after he died.
193b Polack, New Zealand, i. 269.
194a Proceedings S. P. R., xv. 10.
194b The writer has known a case in which a collector of these statistics, disdained non-coincidental hallucinations as ‘of no use’
195 Proceedings S. P. R., xv. 7.
196 Animal Magnetism, pp. 61-64, 1887.
199 The Psychical Society has published the writer’s encounter with Professor Conington, at Oxford, in 1869, when the professor was lying within one or two days of his death at Boston, a circumstance wholly unknown to the percipient. But no jury would accept this as anything but a case of mistaken identity, natural in a short-sighted man’s vague experiences. Mr. Conington was not a man easily to be mistaken for another, nor were many men likely to be mistaken for Mr. Conington. Yet this is what must have occurred. There was no conceivable reason why the professor should ‘telepathically’ communicate with the percipient, who had never exchanged a word with him, except in an examination.
205 Proceedings of Society for Psychical Research, viii. 111.
206 Proceedings of Society for Psychical Research, xiv. 442.
207a Modern Spirit Manifestations. By Adin Ballou. Liverpool, 1853.
207b Proceedings of Society for Psychical Research, xiv. 469.
209 Edinburgh, 1827, vol. i. p. xxxii.
214 In the author’s case the hypnagogic phantasms seem to be created out of the floating spots of light which remain when the eyes are shut. Some crystal-gazers find that similar points de repère in the glass, are the starting-points of pictures in the crystal. Others cannot trace any such connection.
215 Compare Blackwood, August, 1831, in Noctes Ambrosianæ.
216a Paus., ii. 24, I.
216b Bouché Leclercq, i. 339.
223 The accomplished scryer can see as well in a crystal ringstone, or in a glass of water, as in a big crystal ball. The latter may really be dangerous, if left on a cloth in the sun it may set the cloth on fire.
224 Animal Magnetism, second edition, p. 135.
228 Thus an educated gentleman, a Highlander, tells the author that he once saw a light of this kind ‘not a meteor,’ passing in air along a road where a funeral went soon afterwards. His companions could see nothing, but one of them said: ‘It will be a death-candle’. It seems to have been hallucinatory, otherwise all would have shared the experience.
231a Darker Superstitions of Scotland, p. 481, Edinburgh, 1834.
231b Op. cit., p. 473.
232a Op. cit., p. 470
232b It is, perhaps, needless to add that the unhappy patients were executed.
232c Miscellanies, 1857, p. 184.
233a Wodrow, i. 44.
233b Aulus Gellius, xv. 18. Dio Cassius, lib. lxvii. Crespet, De la Hayne de Diable, cited by Dalyell.
234 Miscellanies, 177.
235 A copy presented by Scott to Sir Alexander Boswell of Auchinleck is in the author’s possession; it bears Scott’s autograph.
237 Information from Mr. Mackay, Craigmonie.
238 2 Kings, v. 26.
244 i. 259. Longmans, London, 1811.
245 Tylor, Primitive Culture, i. 143.
246 This belief is not confined to the Highlands. Mr. Podmore quotes Ghost 636 in the Psychical Society’s collections: ‘The narrator’s mother is said to have seen the figure of a man’. The father saw nothing till his wife laid her hand on his shoulder, when he exclaimed, ‘I see him now’ (S. P. R., Nov., 1889, p. 247).
250 ‘Spectral evidence’ was common in witch trials. Wierus (b. 1515) mentions a woman who confessed that she had been at a witch’s covin, or ‘sabbath,’ when her body was in bed with her husband. If there was any confirmatory testimony, if any one chose to say that he saw her at the ‘sabbath,’ that was ‘spectral evidence’. This kind of testimony made it vain for a witch to take Mr. Weller’s advice, and plead ‘a halibi,’ but even Cotton Mather admits that ‘spectral evidence’ is inconclusive.
253 Papon. Arrets., xx. 5, 9. Charondas, Lib. viii. Resp. 77. Covarruvias, iv. 6. Mornac, s. v., Habitations, 27 ff., Locat. and Conduct. Other doctors do not deny hauntings, but allege that a brave man should disregard them, and that they do not fulfil he legal condition, Metus cadens in constantem virim. These doctors may never have seen a ghost, or may have been unusually courageous. They held that a man might get accustomed to the annoyances of bogles, s’apprivoiser avec cette frayeur, like the Procter family at Willington.
259 Miscellanies, p. 94, London, 1857.
262 Hibbert, Philosophy of Apparitions, second edition, p. 224. Hibbert finds Graime guilty, but only because he knew where the body lay.
263 Notices Relative to the Bannatyne Club, 1836, p. 191. Remarkable Trial in Maryland.
267 Paris, 1708. Reprinted by Lenglet Dufresnoy, in his Dissertations sur les Apparitions. Avignon, 1751, vol. iii. p. 38.
269 Second edition, Buon, Paris, 1605. First edition, Angers, 1586.
273 Dr. Lee, in Sights and Sounds (p. 43), quotes an Irish lawsuit in 1890. The tenants were anxious not to pay rent, but were non-suited. No reference to authorities is given. There was also a case at Dublin in 1885. Waldron’s house was disturbed, ‘stones were thrown at the windows and doors,’ and Waldron accused his neighbour, Kiernan, of these assaults. He lost his case (Evening Standard, February 23, 1885, is cited).
275 p. 195, London, 1860.
276 The account followed here is that of the narrator in La Table Parlante, p. 130, who differs in some points from the Marquis de Mirville in his Fragment d’un Ouvrage Inédit, Paris, 1852.
277 For bewitching by touch see Cotton Mather’s Wonders of the Invisible World, p. 150. ‘Library of Old Authors,’ London, 1862.
279a Cotton Mather, op. cit., p. 131.
279b Table Parlante, p. 151. A somewhat different version is given p. 145. The narrator seems to say that Cheval himself deposed to having witnessed this experiment.
283a Gazette des Tribunaux, February 2, 1846, quoted in Table Parlante, p. 306.
283b Table Parlante, p. 174.
300 Hibbert, Apparitions, p. 211.
303 Mather’s own account of the lost sermon (p. 298) is in his Life, by Mr. Barrett Wendell, p. 118. It is by no means so romantic as Wodrow’s version.
307 An account of the method by which the Miss Foxes rapped is given, by a cousin of theirs, in Dr. Carpenter’s Mesmerism (p. 150).
312 See Dr. Carpenter’s brief and lucid statement about ‘Latent Thought’ and ‘Unconscious Cerebration,’ in the Quarterly Review, vol. cxxxi. pp. 316-319.
317 A learned priest has kindly looked for the alleged spiritus percutiens in dedicatory and other ecclesiastical formulæ. He only finds it in benedictions of bridal chambers, and thinks it refers to the slaying spirit in the Book of Tobit.
319a S. P. R., x. 81.
319b London: Longmans, Green, & Co., 1877.
320 Quoted by Dr. Carpenter, op. cit., p. vii.
324 Tom. ii. pp. 312, 435, edition of 1768.
326 In the Quarterly Review, vol. cxxxi. pp. 336-337, Dr. Carpenter criticises an account given by Lord Crawford of this performance. He asks for the evidence of the other witnesses. This was supplied. He detects a colloquial slovenliness in a phrase. This was cleared up. He complains that the light was moonlight. ‘The moon was shining full into the room.’ A minute philosopher has consulted the almanack and denies that there was any moon!
327 Lord Crawford’s evidence is in the Report of the Dialectical Society, p. 214
328 Quarterly Review, vol. cxxxi. p. 303.
329 Observe the caution of the Mosstrooper, even in that agitating moment! How good it is, and how wonderfully Sir Walter forecasts a séance.
341a Lucretius, iv. 26-75, Munro’s translation.
341b Def. Orac., 19.
341c Ibid., iv. 193.
352 Porphyry, Vita Plotini.
353 Primitive Culture, i. 404.
355 In the Pandemonium, or Devil’s Cloyster, of Richard Bovet, Gent. (1684).