SUMMARY AND
REFLECTIONS
THE facts
reported in this volume are but samples from a thousand-fold larger
mass, whose meaning is apparent. Whatever skepticism prevails regarding
them is due to various influences. Sometimes it is mere prejudice,
sometimes it is ignorance both of the problem and of the facts; and
there is much opposition that is based on neither prejudice nor
ignorance, but on mere intellectual obstinacy and pride. It is easy to
oppose any belief if you are so disposed. Reasons can always be given,
whether rational or not, against a theory, if one chooses to give them.
The "will to disbelieve" is quite as prevalent as the "will to believe,"
and is no more creditable. Much prejudice and ignorance are excusable,
when we consider how powerfully environment acts on our beliefs.
Unanimity of opinion is essential to any social order. We keep out of
perpetual war only by agreeing on something. Our interests are so bound
up with the opinion of the community that it is not safe for us to take
the part of rebels. Hence we accept the ideas in which we are born and
bred. Childhood trusts, and our beliefs are largely made in childhood.
The line of least resistance is to follow the ideas of the community.
Prejudice is, therefore, more or less unavoidable, at least on matters
about which we have little or no opportunity to work out systematic
beliefs. Ignorance is but an accompaniment of these influences and is
more excusable than prejudice, because the latter has a tendency to
include influences from the desire and the will.
Hostility, however, based upon
intellectual pride and obstinacy has no such excuse. It is irrefutable
except by ridicule and the resistance of public opinion. It infects all minds
sophisticated by knowledge and tending to defend preexisting ideas. It
causes a sort of obsession which has become fixed partly by personal
interests and partly by the extent to which this knowledge represents
accepted scientific truth. Nevertheless, all intelligent people are
called upon to keep preconceptions in abeyance in the presence of new
facts. No doubt the discoverer of new truth may exhibit too much haste
to revolutionize things, but this fault is not any worse than an
inflexible conservatism in a changing and progressing world. Truth is
always dependent on facts enough to make it clear that it represents
some sort of law in the world. Even if facts are exceptional, they must
be compatible with the unity in nature. Frequency of occurrence is the
evidence of law and of articulation with the cosmic order. This fact
explains, and at least half
justifies, the cautiousness of the average man in weighing every claim
that comes along for the
supernormal. But history has shown us that caution has its limits. Such an
influence might be invoked, as it was by the church, against any change of our
ideas whatever. But no such habit should characterize the scientific
mind. The very essence of science is the understanding of change as well
as of the constancies of nature. The scientist has always insisted that
we relax religious obstinacy and prejudice in the consideration of
hypotheses that might seem to conflict with preestablished ideas. It
therefore becomes obligatory upon him to practice his own preaching in
the consideration of supernormal phenomena.
The course
suggested, however, has not often been taken. From no one has psychic
research met more opposition than from the scientific man. His attitude
is explicable, but not always excusable. The conquests of physical
science are supposed to have eliminated the "supernatural" from human
belief, and most scientific men think that psychic research threatens to
restore that beast to power. But there is no danger that past
conceptions will again find currency, and no serious consequences can
happen from giving the term "supernatural" as clear a meaning as that of
"nature." Those who reduce everything to "nature" can hardly give an
intelligible account of what they mean by the term save as the order of
frequently observed facts. And yet this is made an idol for a worship as extravagant
as that of a savage for his
fetish.
The emphasis,
however, upon regularity is important. The systematic and rational
behavior of life depends upon the constancies of the cosmos. If it were
as changeable as the super naturalist assumes it to be, there would be
little opportunity for any ethical development and perhaps none for the
slow evolution of human life and its functions. It is the constancy of
"nature" that makes possible human character and development. The
scientific skeptic of the "supernatural" has in his hands the answer to the
question
cui bono, if only he will
use it instead of merely
making the concept of nature serve as the basis of a new dogmatism and a new intolerance. But
in order to defend regularity, he sacrifices all the benefits that come
from a spiritual conception of the world's order. His opponent insists
as strenuously on a conception that invokes caprice against law. Why are
not both law and caprice as reconcilable with nature as with the
supernatural? Why should either of them be regarded either as necessary
or as antagonistic to one or the other of these conceptions? It is certain
that both exist, whatever view we take of either nature or the supernatural.
What we want is facts; we can then decide whether they are natural or
supernatural.
It is wearisome
to insist on the meaning of such facts as I have cited in this volume.
Their import is clear. They certainly make a spiritistic hypothesis
acceptable. The illustrations quoted may not suffice to demonstrate the existence of a future life, if taken alone or regarded
as the total evidence in favor
of such a theory, and I do not quote them with the expectation that they
alone will settle the issue. They are but examples of phenomena as old
as history and as extensive and constant as any other phenomenon of
nature. But they are better accredited than most instances and so make it imperative for them
to be investigated.
The only
difficulty the spiritistic hypothesis faces is the ignorance and
prejudice of the public. That ignorance and prejudice may be excusable;
but they are obstacles, and the only obstacles, to the belief in
immortality. The objections based upon the triviality of the facts, the
fragmentary and confused nature of the communications, and the absurdity
of the revelations are beside the mark. They betray total ignorance of the
problem and of the process
involved in getting the data. The problem of the proof of personal identity is crucial, and nothing but trivial facts will satisfy
the conditions of such proof.
The fragmentary nature of the messages
and the apparent absurdities of revelations about the other world are
caused by the process of communicating and by the difficulties of
representing a different world in terms of our own. Untrained readers
assume too readily that the conditions of intercourse between the two
worlds are either like our own or so nearly like them as not to affect
the contents of the messages. The spiritistic hypothesis is not itself a
revelation, but an explanation. Its development and ramifications await
future work. At present it is
necessary as a means of making the main facts intelligible. It maintains only that
there is scientific evidence of the survival of personal consciousness,
and not that we know all about the nature and conditions of a
transcendental world. It establishes the main point, and leaves the accessories of
the hypothesis to be determined.
Personally I
regard the fact of survival after death as scientifically proved. I
agree that this opinion is not upheld in scientific quarters. But this
is neither our fault nor that of the facts. Evolution was not believed
until long after it was proved. The fault lay with those who were too
ignorant or too stubborn to accept the facts. History shows that every
intelligent man who has gone into this investigation, if he gave it
adequate examination at all, has come out believing in spirits; this
circumstance places the
burden of proof on the shoulders of the skeptic.
The present war
and the manner in which it is making multitudes think of the meaning of
life and death will do more than a hundred years of academic talk to
awaken interest in the problem. Thousands who suffer losses and ask what
they mean, would not think of the matter so keenly in the ordinary
vicissitudes of life. The person suffering the pangs of grief or asking
for a solution of the enigma of existence, and not afraid of his
neighbors, will think for himself; and, even if he does appear to have
an emotional bias, he will see facts more clearly than the man who
boasts of his exemption from the influence of personal interest, but
who, in reality, is only under the domination of another interest
equally strong and more dangerous because the man has the illusion that
he is free from it. Those who have to face the realities, both
economical and moral, will not trust their salvation to sophists or to
men who do not enter into the real problems of the world. They will go
straight to the solution that fits the facts, and as usual the academic
sophist will lose his hold on the forces of civilization. Insight has
more to do with the problem
and its solution than much learning. The public will go straight to the
heart of the matter, and those who assume academic authority without
scientific knowledge of the facts will find themselves shorn of power. Those who should have
led will have to follow. If they do not see their opportunity, we can only repeat the warning of the prophet:
Israel is joined to his idols, let him alone.
The
circumstance that gives so much power to skepticism is the uninterrupted
triumph of physical science, based on the easy observation and
reproduction of its phenomena. It has relied upon sense-perception for
its data and especially for such data as it can easily verify in human
experience. The more elusive phenomena of nature it either ignores or
questions, and thus has established a criterion of reality that makes
the claims of supersensible facts difficult to establish. Very early it
excluded spiritual reality from the causes of the world, even when it
admitted its existence. The earlier and later materialists in Greek
philosophy were at one on this
point. They all agreed that the gods existed, but they gave them no causal influence in the world. They were assigned to a place in the
intermundia where they were harmless and inefficient, where they were
equally unable to cause evil or to do good. Their position might be
envied by those who suffer from the pains of unremitting toil, but it
would offer no delightful
prospect to those who abhor idleness. They could not assuage grief and pain nor exercise any
benevolent force in the universe. They could only live in an idleness
that is as irksome to the ethical man as it is envied by the unethical.
They are
The Gods who haunt
The lucid interspace
of world and world, Where never creeps a cloud, or moves a wind, Nor
ever falls the least white star of snow, Nor ever lowest roll of thunder
moans, Nor sound of human sorrow mounts to mar Their sacred everlasting
calm.
Beings that only watch things go will
never be objects either of fear or reverence, nor appear as ideals for moral character,
But whatever we believe about immortality to-day, we cannot question the
causal influence of consciousness on the stream of physical phenomena.
If we once grant the existence of spirit, incarnate or discarnate, we
must admit it to a place among the causes in nature; indeed we shall
hardly discover its existence save through its effects. But we do not
question its causal power in the series of physical and mental phenomena
that come to our attention, and we do not accept the a priori theories
that defined the nature and limits of mind in the Epicurean and other
forms of materialism. All that we do is to insist on evidence; and only
the prejudices for a theory that relies as much on tradition as do the
orthodoxies of religion, now stand in the way of a ready belief in the
existence of discarnate spirit. The evidences of its causal influence in
the physical world are so plentiful that they are almost self-evident.
We have therefore only to
prove that it survives death, to prove that its causal action extends beyond the grave, as there is
no proof of survival which does not carry with it the implication of
some influence on the living as the condition of that proof.
The phenomena
of spiritual healing and of obsession well illustrate the extent of the
causal action of discarnate consciousness. The symptoms of hysteria, of
secondary personality, of some maladies diagnosed as dementia precox and
paranoia, and perhaps others, assure us of an immense field for the
practical application of psychic research, which will be recognized as
soon as the world accepts the fact of survival. In the recurrence of
spiritual healing, primitive Christianity will be revived. A new meaning will be put into the New
Testament and the work of Christ.
Moreover, the
ethical value of the belief in survival can hardly be measured. An age that has had to give
it up because of materialism and the lack of evidence pretends not to be
interested in it. It assumes the garb of courage and of Stoicism,
parading in self-righteousness what is but the virtue of necessity. It
is hardly to be blamed. Our duty always is to make the best of a bad
bargain, But why insist that life is a bad bargain? "All is well that ends well," even if we have
spilled the milk. Nature may not be a Medusa-head after all. Many of her
rougher actions and inflictions of pain are but the just discipline for our
own vices. The great fog-bank
into which materialism sails is more easily penetrated than it surmises.
It conceals a beautiful sun-lit sea and the happy isles, and psychic
research ventures on embarking where the philosophy of Immanuel Kant
only warned the sailor against rocky shoals and disaster. Mythology was sound in its psychology
and its ethics when, after allowing the escape of all the evils in the
world, it left Hope at the bottom of Pandora's box.
No
one can act rationally in life without hope. It is essential to every
desire we have and to every volition we exercise. There is no
rationality in any act save as we can hope for its fruition as the fulfillment of our
wishes. If personality has any
value in nature, we must appraise it as nature does. If consciousness
perishes at death it is clear that hope has no application beyond the
grave. If personality extends beyond the grave, hope has a wider sphere
of meaning, and so has life. Personality takes the chief place in the
estimation of values and both our individual and our social ethics may
be based upon it. The disposition to prolong consciousness and to value
the higher intellectual and emotional expressions of it above the lower
is so much testimony to that evaluation.
It
is not necessary to take an optimistic view of the world in dealing with
the question. The scientific problem is to guarantee survival, whether it
is desirable or not, whether the next world is ideal or unpleasantly
real. In saying a word for hope in the scheme of things, we may not
offer assurance of satisfaction for every specific desire we cultivate
or indulge. It will be enough to show that nature ensures the survival
of personal identity; and then, whatever curtailment of our selfish
expectations may follow, we still have the opportunity of correction.
Annihilation will allow neither progress nor correction of the past.
Desire and volition have no meaning except with reference to a future;
and, with no prospect of attainment of our aims, we can have little
reverence for an order that allows no genuine achievement, and only
keeps us at the eternal task of Sisyphus.
I
do not forget that the belief in immortality may be abused. It is as
easy to be too "other-worldly"
as to be too worldly. The truth is beneficial or harmful according to
the character of the man who accepts it. Guns and gunpowder are
exceedingly useful in the hands of the right man, but a dangerous evil
in the wrong hands. We prize liberty, but there is no conception which
cannot be abused more than this. There is probably not a single truth
which human nature cannot pervert. A belief in a future life is no
exception. But the fact that it was abused in the Middle Ages, or that
it may be too much stressed by some minds, is no reason for ignoring the
doctrine. Some tell us that nature or Providence does not intend for us to
know about a future life. But the same type of mind told us that we should
not inquire into the processes of nature. While maintaining that nature
is a product of the Divine and while enjoying the fruit of scientific
conquests over it, they counselled neglecting its revelations! There is
no truth that can be made more helpful to man than a belief in survival.
It will all depend on his balance of mind. Disregarding it leads to
emphasis on the materialism that has nearly wrecked civilization in the
greatest war of history. We do not want the belief established in order
to concentrate interest again on the hereafter, but to fix a balance in human endeavor. If nature values the inner life,
what man has called the
"spiritual" life, the virtues of reflection, gentility, unselfishness
and all the attitudes of mind and will that take him away from an
exclusively sensuous life, it is time that we have a philosophy and an
outlook that helps to sustain the higher ideals of consciousness. It is
for its reflex influence on the ethics of the present life that it is
important, not for its power
to make us ignore the imperative duties of the present.
We
are told that the interest in immortality is a selfish one. It is
probable that the belief can
be used as selfishly as any other, but he who lays too much stress on
this aspect of it does not know human nature. While I see many that have
only a personal interest in it and only desire to gain a further surplus
from nature after having an undue share of this world's goods, the most important feeling, in
my experience and observation, is the altruism which lies at the basis of
the most poignant grief. I find that those who suffer most from the
doubt of immortality, do not care so much for survival for themselves as
they do for their departed friends. They desire that their loved ones
shall "still hae a stake" in the clash of the world's forces. With them it is an altruistic, not an egoistic
hope, an unselfish, not a selfish desire. The bitterest pain and
perplexity come where the affection is the strongest. In such situations
it is quite as important to assuage grief as it is to satisfy appetites.
When a man has lived the properly ethical life it is natural for him to
feel disturbed at the thought of the interruption of life. He must seek
in some belief a means of interpreting nature consistently with his
moral ideals. He must find the clue to her purposes that he may be
reconciled to the temporary appearance of in harmony in the world's
ethical order. He wants to see far beyond in the future the trend of
events which may sustain his faith in an ethical order while it keeps the
torch of hope before him.
'Tis not for self we feet the glow
Of passion for continued life,
But love for those whose passage mars The growth of soul
and all its aims. For death, in his remorseless path,
Leaves here no evidence for hope,
And we must seek its
guerdon there Where chance may bring a cheering word From out the gates
of grief and pain. But when we bridge the sombre gulf Twixt life and
death, and learn that love Still waits upon the shining shores Of time
and fate to meet us there, We watch forever and forever The distant
purposes of God,
We may say that this is an emotional
attitude of mind, and I do not question the statement. I only say that
emotion has quite as legitimate a place in the world as intellect. It is
the basis of all the ethics we possess, and intelligence is only a
secondary acquirement in the cosmos. Science shows us that the chief
function of intelligence is to enable us to occupy a better place in the
struggle for existence; it is usually a thousand-fold more egoistic than emotions.
The neglect or
hostility which the subject receives is one of the curious problems of psychology. If a new
engine for an aeroplane is announced the inventor is acclaimed a benefactor of
the world. If some new substance to take the place of gasoline is
discovered, all the capitalists in the country tumble over each other to
get the control of it. A new element in chemistry is announced with all
the fervor of a miracle.
Anything that will fill the human belly with the husks that the swine do eat, is considered the
greatest thing in the world. But if a man offers evidence that he has a
soul and that he may expect to live after death, he is called insane,
though he may prove the prolongation of consciousness, which is the one
aspiration of every effort a man makes in life! No better indication of
the utter materialism of the age could be adduced. But at last the
consequences of war, bearing the fruits of materialism in the ugly
spectacle of death and grief, are forcing attention on the subject.
The belief in
immortality is the keystone to the arch of history, or the pivotal point
about which move the intellectual, the ethical, and the political forces
of all time. If science cannot protect our ethical ideals it will have to succumb to the same
corrosion that has worn away the church. Something must put an end to doubt.
There are many situations in life that call for heroic measures, and
skepticism on the outcome of life offers no inducement to the heroic
virtues.
Poetry has
probably done more than philosophy to redeem the human race. It sees
more than naked facts. These last we must see and respect, with all the
clearness that will prevent their discoloration from interest and
emotion. But if we suppose that knowledge achieves its ends without
feeling, we shall miss the main opportunities of life. Neither one nor
the other is the whole object of existence. They supplement each other.
Plato's myth of the chariot drawn by the two steeds of passion and
impulse, without the guidance of reason, illustrate the consequences of
unadjusted energies.
Wisdom and passion
Playing for place, Whichever winneth
Loses its grace.
When the two,
peaceful, Mingle and kiss, Then cometh sweetly
Power and bliss.
The Stoic, on the
one hand, and the Epicurean, on the other, equally miss the meaning of life. The
via media has
always been the path of sanity and common sense, and neither knowledge
nor emotion alone will give intellectual and moral health. Their
functions must be adjusted to each other; only on that condition will a
man be saved the ravages of skepticism and the consequences of libertinism.
The age is in
the throes of a search for certitude, and it is not limited, in that
search, to the problem of immortality. The belief in immortality, which
had been made important for many centuries, was doomed to decay unless
assurance could be given the human mind regarding it. It had been so
closely related to ethics that its decay threatened the destruction of
all ethical and spiritual endeavor. We take what is certain, if it is
only the sensuous life, but if we find that nature assigns this a
secondary place and means to preserve the inner spiritual life for
further cultivation the sacrifice of the physical and the sensuous is
rendered more easy and even when it has a place in our spiritual
development, it will not have the intensity of interest that it
possesses when we have the prospect of nothing else.
It
is easy for the man who has the comforts of life and who has stored up
much goods, who has been
successful in the struggle of existence, to congratulate himself on this
security and to neglect Lazarus lying at his gates. He may thank God that he is
not as other men are. But he should not blame the unsuccessful for taking a
less optimistic view of nature. If the world has any claims to be
regarded as good to its Creatures, we should find the evidence of it in
its outcome. We may endure temporary inequalities and suffering, if all
ends well. But when the misfortunes of life are not equally distributed, we must
not wonder that the victims of pain and disappointment are rebels. We
may become reconciled to pain, if it results in a healing discipline,
but if the chance for redemption and amelioration be forever cut off, the
ugly spectre of death will give the final touch of despair to human ideals and
hopes. We need to be in a position to see beyond the horizon, if the
conflicts of the present life are to be met with patience and endurance.
The wider outlook will soothe many a pain or give it a spiritual
significance.
Were we mere animals
without ideals or hopes, we might be indifferent to the course of nature.
We might live in the present moment without doing any violence to the
moral laws. But if ideals encourage in us a life above the sensual we need assurance
that nature will compensate us for the present loss; and if we find that
survival is a part of her scheme, the bitterness that would haunt us if we
were without hope will be less poignant. I do not emphasize the joys of
such a hope or of its fruition. But we need an interpretation of the world
which will do something to mitigate suffering, if we cannot escape it, or
to excuse it, if we find it a means to an end. The sadness of sunset is only
sublime pathos when we are assured of another dawn.