IV

Spiritualism, another member of the modern occult family, presents

a combination of features rather difficult to portray; but its

public career of half a century has probably rendered its tenets and

practices fairly familiar.[1] For, like other movements, it presents

both doctrines and manifestations; and, like other movements, it

achieved its popularity through its manifestations and emphasized the

doctrines to maintain the interest and solidarity of its numerous

converts. Deliberate fraud has been repeatedly demonstrated in a

large number of alleged "spiritualistic" manifestations; in many more

the very nature of the phenomena and of the conditions under which

they appear is so strongly suggestive of trickery as to render any

other hypothesis of their origin equally improbable and superfluous.

Unconscious deception, exaggerated and distorted reports, defective

and misleading observation, have been demonstrated to be most potent

reagents, whereby alleged miracles are made to throw off their

mystifying envelopings and to leave a simple deposit of intelligible

and often commonplace fact. That the methods of this or that medium

have not been brought within the range of such explanation may be

admitted, but the admission carries with it no bias in favor of the

spiritualistic hypothesis. It may be urged, however, that where there

is much smoke there is apt to be some fire; yet there is little

prospect of discovering the nature of the fire until the smoke has

been completely cleared away. Perhaps it has been snatched from

heaven by a materialized Prometheus; perhaps it may prove to be the

trick of a _ridiculus mus_ gnawing at a match. And yet, in this

connection, the main point to be insisted upon with regard to such

manifestations is that their interpretation and their explanation

demand some measure of technical knowledge and training, and of

special adaptability to such pursuits. "The problem cannot be solved

and settled by amateurs, nor by 'common sense' that

'Delivers brawling judgments all day long,

On all things unashamed.'"

Spiritualism represents a systematization of popular beliefs and

superstitions, modified by echoes of religious and philosophical

doctrines; it thus contains factors which owe their origin to other

interests than those which lead directly to the occult. Its main

purpose was to establish the reality of communication with departed

spirits; the means, which at first spontaneously presented themselves

and later were devised for this purpose, were in large measure not

original. The rappings are in accord with the traditional folk-lore

behavior of ghosts; their transformation into a signal code (although

a device discovered before) may have been due to the originality of

the Fox children; the planchette has its analogies in Chinese and

European modes of divination; clairvoyance was incorporated from the

phenomena of artificial somnambulism, as practiced by the successors

of Mesmer; the "sensitive" or "medium" suggests the same origin as

well as the popular belief in the gift of supernatural powers in

favored individuals; others of the phenomena, such as "levitation"

and "cabinet performances," have their counterparts in Oriental

magic; "slate-writing," "form materializations," "spirit-messages"

and "spirit photographs" are, in the main, modern contributions. Mr.

Lang has attractively set forth the resemblances between primitive

and ancient spiritualism and its modern revival; he suggests that

"the 'Trance Medium,' the 'Inspirational Speaker' was a reproduction

of the maiden with a spirit of divination, of the Delphic Pythia.

In the old belief, the god dominated her, and spoke from her lips,

just as the 'control' or directing spirit dominates the medium." He

suggests that it is for like reasons that "the Davenport Brothers,

like Eskimo and Australian conjurers, like the Highland seer in

the bull's hide," are swathed or bound; he notes that "the lowest

savages have their _séances_, levitations, bindings of the medium,

trance speakers; Peruvians, Indians, have their objects moved without

contact;" he surmises that the Fox children, being of a Methodist

family, may have been inspired by "old Jeffrey," who haunted the

Wesleys' house.

The phenomena now associated with modern Spiritualism, with their

characteristic _milieu_, breed the typical atmosphere of the séance

chamber, which resists precise analysis, but which in its extreme

form involves morbid credulity, blind prepossession, and emotional

contagion; while the dependence of the phenomena on the character

of the medium offers strong temptation alike to shrewdness,

eccentricity, and dishonesty. On the side of his teachings the

Spiritualist is likewise not strikingly original. The relations of

his beliefs to those that grew about the revelations of Swedenborg,

to the speculations of the German "pneumatologists," and to other

philosophical doctrines, though perhaps not intimate, are yet

traceable and interesting; and in another view the Spiritualist is as

old as man himself, and finds his antecedents in the necromancer of

Chaldea, or in the Shaman of Siberia, or the Angekok of Greenland, or

the spirit-doctor of various savage tribes. The modern mediums are

thus simply repeating with new costumes and improved scenic effects

the mystic drama of primitive man.

Spiritualism thus appeals to a deep-seated craving in human nature,

that of assurance of personal immortality and of communion with

the departed. Just so long as a portion of mankind will accept

material evidence of such a belief, and will even countenance the

irreverence, the triviality, and the vulgarity surrounding the

manifestations; just so long as those persons will misjudge their

own powers of detecting how the alleged supernatural appearances

are really produced, and remain unimpressed by the principles upon

which alone a consistent explanation is possible, just so long will

Spiritualism and kindred delusions flourish.

As to the present-day status of this cult it is not easy to speak

positively. Its _clientèle_ has apparently greatly diminished;

it still numbers amongst its adherents men and women of culture

and education, and many more who cannot be said to possess these

qualities. There seems to be a considerable class of persons who

believe that natural laws are insufficient to account for their

personal experiences and those of others, and who temporarily or

permanently incline to a spiritualistic hypothesis in preference to

any other. Spiritualists of this intellectual temper can, however,

form but a small portion of those who are enrolled under its creed.

If one may judge by the tone and contents of current spiritualistic

literature, the rank and file to which Spiritualism appeals present

an unintellectual occult company, credulously accepting what they

wish to believe, utterly regardless of the intrinsic significance

of evidence or hypothesis, vibrating from one extreme or absurdity

to another, and blindly following a blinder or more fanatic leader

or a self-interested charlatan. While for the most extravagant and

unreasonable expressions of Spiritualism one would probably turn to

the literature of a few decades ago, yet the symptoms presented by

the Spiritualism of to-day are unmistakably of the same character,

and form a complex as characteristic as the symptom-complex of

hysteria or epilepsy, and which, _faute de mieux_, may be termed

occult. It is a type of occultism of a particularly pernicious

character, because of its power to lead a parasitic life upon the

established growths of religious beliefs and interests, and at the

same time to administer to the needs of an unfortunate but widely

prevalent passion for special signs and omens and the interpretation

of personal experiences. It is a weak though comprehensible nature

that becomes bewildered in the presence of a few experiences that

seem homeless among the generous provisions of modern science, and

runs off panic-stricken to find shelter in a system that satisfies

a narrow personal craving at the sacrifice of broadly established

principles, nurtured and grown strong in the hardy and beneficent

atmosphere of science. It is a weaker and an ignorant nature that

is attracted to the cruder forms of such beliefs, be it by the

impulsive yielding to emotional susceptibility, by the contagion of

an unfortunate mental environment, or by the absence of the steadying

power of religious faith, or of logical vigor, or of confidence in

the knowledge of others. Spiritualism finds converts in both camps

and assembles them under the flag of the occult.[2]

The wane in the popularity of Spiritualism may be due in part to

frequent exposures, in part to the passing of the occult interest to

pastures new, and in part to other and less accessible causes. Such

interest may again become dominant by the success or innovations

of some original medium or by the appearance of some unforeseen

circumstances. The present disposition to take up "spiritual healing"

and "spiritual readings of the future" rather than mere assurances

from the dead, indicates a desire to emulate the practical success

of more recently established rivals. The history of Spiritualism, by

its importance and its extravagance of doctrine and practice, forms

an essential and an instructive chapter in the history of aberrant

belief; and there is no difficulty in tracing the imprints of its

footsteps on the sands of the occult.

V

The impress of ancient and mediæval lore upon latter-day occultism

is conspicuous in the survivals of Alchemy and Astrology. Phrenology

represents a more recent pseudo-science, but one sufficiently

obsolete to be considered under the same head; as may also Palmistry,

which has relations both to an ancient form of divination and to a

more modern development after the manner of Physiognomy. The common

characteristic of these is their devotion to a practical end. Alchemy

occupies a somewhat distinct position. The original alchemists sought

the secret of converting the baser metals into gold, in itself a

sufficiently alluring and human occupation. There is no reason why

such a problem should assume an occult aspect, except the sufficient

one that ordinary procedures have not proved capable to effect the

desired end. It is a proverbial fault of ambitious inexperience to

attack valiantly large problems with endless confidence and sweeping

aspiration. It is well enough in shaping your ideas to hitch your

wagon to a star, yet the temporary utility of horses need not be

overlooked; but shooting arrows at the stars is apt to prove an idle

pastime. If we are willing to forget for the moment that the same

development of logic and experiment that makes possible the mental

and material equipment of the modern chemist, makes impossible his

consideration of the alchemist's search, we may note how far the

inherent constitution of the elements, to say nothing of their

possible transmutation, has eluded his most ultimate analysis.

How immeasurably further it was removed from the grasp of the

alchemist can hardly be expressed. But this is a scientific and not

an occult view of the matter; it was not by progressive training

in marksmanship that the occultist hoped to send his arrows to the

stars. His was a mystic search for the magical transmutation, the

elixir of life or the philosopher's stone. One might suppose that,

once the world has agreed that these ends are past finding out,

the alchemist, like the maker of stone arrow-heads, would have

found his occupation gone and have left no successor. His modern

representative, however, is an interesting and by no means extinct

species. He seems to flourish in France, but may be found in Germany,

in England, and in this country. He is rarely a pure alchemist

(although so recently as 1854 one of them offered to manufacture gold

for the French mint), but represents the pure type of occultist.

He calls himself a Rosicrucian; he establishes a University of the

Higher Studies, and becomes a professor of Hermetic Philosophy. His

thought is mystic, and symbolism has an endless fascination for

him. The recondite significance of numbers, extravagant analogies

of correspondence, the traditional hidden meanings of the Kabbalah,

fairly intoxicate him; and verbose accounts of momentous relations

and of unintelligible discoveries run riot in his writings. His

science is not a mere Chemistry, but a Hyper-Chemistry; his

transmutations are no longer material, but assume a spiritual aspect.

Like all adept followers of an esoteric belief, he must stand apart

from his fellow-men; he must cultivate the higher "psychic" powers,

so that eventually he may be able by the mere action of his will to

cause the atoms to group themselves into gold.

The modern alchemist is apt to be a general occultist; he may be also

an astrologer or a magnetist or a theosophist. But he is foremost

an ardent enthusiast for exclusive and unusual lore--not the common

and superficial possessions of misguided democratic science. He goes

through the forms of study, remains superior to the baser practical

ends of life, and finds his reward in the self-satisfaction of

exclusive wisdom. In Paris, at least, he forms part of a rather

respectable _salon_, speaking socially, or a "company of educated

charlatans," speaking scientifically. His class does not constitute a

large proportion of modern occultists, but they present a prominent

form of its intellectual temperament. "There are also people," says

Mr. Lang, "who so dislike our detention in the prison-house of old

unvarying laws that their bias is in favor of anything which may tend

to prove that science in her contemporary mood is not infallible. As

the Frenchman did not care what sort of a scheme he invested money

in, provided that it annoys the English, so many persons do not

care what they invest belief in, provided that it irritates men of

science." Of such is the kingdom of alchemists and their brethren.