CHAPTER XI.

WORTH CONSIDERING.

I failed for a long time yet to get any new light on the essential

nature of the agent with which I was operating, and remained still

undecided in my own mind whether it was a spiritual person, superhuman

and invisible, or a simple elemental force of nature, placed at the

command of every man who knows how to use his own powers. The answers I

obtained to my questions were vague, contradictory, and unsatisfactory.

I had no doubt that I was doing what in the eyes of ignorance and

superstition was called dealing with the devil, and practising what had

been denounced, and in former times punished, by the civil law as

sorcery or witchcraft. So much was clear and undeniable. But had not all

the world misunderstood the real nature of what it had condemned as

witchcraft, sorcery, maleficia, and magic? Had they not assumed

unnecessarily a preternatural agency, and an evil agent, where there was

really only a natural, a good, and a benevolent agent?

The bearing of this question on the Christian religion was very obvious,

and I well understood the significance of what Voltaire said, one day,

to a theologian, “_Sathan! c’est le Christianisme tout entier_; PAS DE

SATHAN, PAS DE SAUVEUR,” and I felt that there was truth in what Bayle,

the ablest and acutest of all modern authors opposed to Christianity,

had said: “Prove to unbelievers the existence of evil spirits, and you

will by that alone force them to concede all your dogmas.” In any point

of view, Christianity was pledged to assert the existence of Satan and

his intervention in human affairs, for according to it, Christ was

revealed from heaven and came into the world that he might destroy the

devil and his works. If there was no devil, the mission of Christ had no

motive, no object, and Christianity is a fable.

Moreover, all Christians, whether Catholics asserting the infallibility

and authority of the Church, or Protestants asserting simply the

infallibility and authority of the Bible, were bound to assert the

existence of evil spirits, and the reality of demonic obsession and

possession, of witchcraft, sorcery, and magic, in the common and

opprobrious sense of the terms. As to Catholics, there could be no

question. The Church plainly and unequivocally recognizes the existence

of Satan, as may be gathered from the prayers and ceremonies of Baptism,

as well as from the significance of the Sacrament itself; and not only

his existence, but his power over the natural man, and even material

objects. Thus when the priest, in administering the Sacrament, breathes

gently three times in the face of the child, he exclaims, “Exi ab eo,

immunde spiritus, et da locum Spiritui Sancto Paraclito:” Go out of him,

impure spirit, and give place to the Holy Ghost, the Paraclete; and also

after the prayer _Deus patrum nostrorum_: “Exorcizo te, immunde

spiritus, in nomine Patris et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti, ut exeas, et

recedas ab hoc famulo Dei. Ipse enim tibi imperat, maledicte damnate qui

pedibus super mare ambulavit, et Petro mergenti dextram porrexit. Ergo,

maledicte diabole, recognosce sententiam tuam, et da honorem Deo vivo et

vero, da honorem Jesu Christo Filio ejus, et Spiritui Sancto; et recede

ab hoc famulo Dei, quia istum sibi Deus et Dominus noster Jesus Christus

ad suam sanctam gratiam, et benedictionem, fontemque, Baptismatis vocari

dignatus est.” The candidate, before receiving baptism, is asked, “Dost

thou renounce Satan?” and answers, “I renounce him.” “And all his

works?” “I renounce them.” “And all his pomps?” “I renounce them.” So,

in blessing the salt which is used in administering the Sacrament, the

priest says, “Exorcizo te, creatura salis, in nomine Dei Patris

omnipotentis, et in charitate Domini nostri Jesu Christi, et in virtute

Spiritus Sancti, exorcizo te per Deum vivum, per Deum verum, per Deum

sanctum,” &c. The whole proceeds on the supposition that Satan is to be

expelled, dislodged, and the Holy Ghost to be placed, so to speak, in

possession, or the grace of Jesus Christ is to be infused, so that the

Holy Ghost shall henceforth dwell in the heart of the baptized, instead

of Satan, who previously held dominion over it. The Church has also her

exorcists, and her forms of exorcising of evil spirits.

The Bible is no less clear and explicit on the subject than the Church.

It teaches that Satan, in the form of a serpent, seduced Eve to eat of

the forbidden fruit; it relates the doings of the Egyptian magicians; it

forbids necromancy and evocation of the dead, and commands the Jews not

to suffer a witch to live; declares that all the gods of the Gentiles

are devils; tells us that the devil is the prince of this world, that he

goeth about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour; bids us

resist the devil and he will flee from us. St. Paul speaks of the prince

and the powers of the air that besiege us, and against whom we must put

on the whole armor of God, and do valiant battle. Moreover it speaks of

demoniacs, or persons possessed with devils; and among the marvellous

works ascribed to Jesus Christ, is that of expelling demons, or casting

out devils. All Christians, then, must admit that there is a devil, and

that there are evil spirits, who may, and who do, interfere with men,

harass them, and sometimes take literal possession of them. A recent

French author, a sincere Christian believer, has felt this. “The

question,” he says, “at the Christian point of view, is by no means

indifferent, but is, as it were, the mother question, the question of

questions. It is no less than to determine whether the Bible and the

Church have or have not been really mistaken in one of their fundamental

principles. For a man filled with Christian desires, and cherishing at

the same time a respect for evidence, the question is most grave. It

touches the whole of faith, neither more nor less; and as it will not do

to admit in the sacred Scriptures, whose language is assumed to be

inspired, what is called _manners of speaking_, or _complaisances_ for

the age, or _remains of ignorance_, we must be permitted to say, that if

it were proved that the Bible in the time of Pharaoh mistook simple and

miserable jugglers for real _magicians_, poor charlatans for

_enchanters_, a few knavish and lying priests for the false gods of the

Gentiles, simple mummeries for real _evocations_, delirious cataleptics

for spirits of Python, &c.; if it were proved that Jesus Christ, in

granting to his disciples the gift, and prescribing to them the rules,

of expelling demons, mistook a fact of pure physiology; if it were

proved that the Church, in instituting exorcism, and prescribing for it

precise and learned formulas, and, moreover, practising it for eighteen

centuries, has been deceived during all that period,—we should feel that

it is all over with Christianity; we should regard it as condemned, and

hasten to renounce an authority so little judicious, and so little to be

depended upon.” Christians may, undoubtedly, dispute as to this or that

particular case, and say that the evidence of demonic intervention, in

this or that particular instance, is not conclusive; but they cannot,

without renouncing their faith, and becoming Sadducees, deny that such

intervention is possible, or assert that it is improbable. They must

concede its possibility, its probability, and its susceptibility of

proof; and therefore when the evidence in any particular instance is

sufficient to establish the reality of any other class of facts, they

are bound, as reasonable beings, to admit it. To them there is, and can

be no _à priori_ difficulty, for they already believe in the reality of

demonic agents adequate to produce the mysterious phenomena that they

are called upon to accept. Hence, in those ages and countries in which

nobody doubted Christianity, all men of science, physicians,

magistrates, as well as the clergy and the people, readily admitted the

demonic character of the phenomena like those produced in our day by

mesmerism.

But, if the belief in the reality of demonic intervention is integral in

Christianity, the most obvious way of getting rid of Christianity and

its restraints would be to deny that reality, and to explain the

phenomena commonly held as evidence of such intervention, on

physiological and other natural principles. This has been the aim of

science, especially medical science, during the last two hundred years.

This aim was adopted by the so-called wits and philosophers of the last

century, and during this it has begun to be adopted by jurisprudence,

and even to be acquiesced in by a large portion of professed Christian

ministers. Literary men, like Sir Walter Scott; founders of new sects,

like the late Hosea Ballou, of Boston; neologist theologians everywhere;

and that “fourth estate,”—journalism, have all combined to reason,

explain, or laugh away, every thing pertaining to demonology, and to

make the world believe that there is no devil, that evil spirits are

only the creatures of a disordered brain, that apparitions or ghosts are

only hallucinations, possession a peculiar kind of madness or insanity,

and magic mere charlatanry or sleight-of-hand. All this, for an

anti-Christian purpose, was admirable, since even the conservative

portion of the clergy seemed to acquiesce in it.

Nevertheless, this could suffice only to a certain extent. It might

serve to emancipate the intelligent classes, but could not emancipate

the people. The latter half of the eighteenth century—a century of

anti-Christian light, philosophy, physical science, and materialism—was

more distinguished for the mysterious phenomena, usually called

demoniacal, than any other period since the Christianizing of the Roman

Empire, with the single exception of the sixteenth century. Weishaupt,

Mesmer, Saint-Martin, and Cagliostro, did far more to produce the

revolutions and convulsions of European society at the close of that

century, than was done by Voltaire, Rousseau, D’Alembert, Diderot,

Mirabeau, and their associates. These men had no doubt a bad influence,

but it was limited and feeble. It was not they who stirred up all

classes, produced that revolutionary madness, that wild ungovernable

fury of the people which we everywhere witnessed, and nowhere more than

in Paris, the politest and most humane city in the world. The masses

were possessed, they were whirled aloft, were driven hither and thither,

and onward in the terrible work of demolition, by a mysterious power

they did not comprehend, and by a force they were unable, having once

yielded to it, to resist.

You feel this in reading the history of those terrible events. It seems

to you that Satan was unbound, and hell let loose. The historians of

that old French Revolution, such as Mignet, Thiers, Lamartine, Carlyle,

all feel that there was something _fatal_ in it, and have been led, at

least all except the last, to defend it on the ground of fatalism. The

Royalist and Catholic historians, who oppose it, seem never to seize its

spirit. They declaim, denounce, find fault here, find fault there, now

with this action and now with that, but they never explain any thing,

solve any problem which comes up, and they leave the whole a mystery, or

an enigma.

The same phenomena, only on a reduced scale, were observable in the

revolutions of 1848. Everywhere there seemed to be an invisible power at

work. Good, honest Father Bresciani, would explain all this by the

Secret Societies. It is in vain. They did much, those secret societies;

but how explain the existence of those societies themselves, their

horrible principles, and the fidelity of their members in submitting to

what they must know is a thousand times more oppressive than the

institutions they are opposing? Tell me not that all these

revolutionists were incarnate devils; that they cooly, and deliberately,

from ordinary human motives and influences, planned and carried out

their revolutionary enterprise. There were in their ranks men of the

highest intelligence, the purest virtue, and the humanest feelings; men,

all of whose antecedents, whose tendencies, whose studies, professions,

interests, and, I may say, convictions, placed them in the ranks of the

conservatives, were carried away by an invisible force, and shouted out,

Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, and hurled the brand of the incendiary at

temple, palace, and castle, which sheltered them, as if it was not they

who did it, but a spirit that possessed them. Men caught the infection,

they knew not how, they knew not when, they knew not where. The

revolutionary spirit seemed to float in the air, as it undoubtedly did.

Without Weishaupt, Mesmer, Saint-Martin, Cagliostro, you can never

explain the revolution of 1789, and without me and my accomplices you

can just as little explain those of 1848. There was at work in the

former a power that the wits ridiculed, that science denied, philosophy

disproved, and the clergy hardly dared assert. There was there the

mighty power, whatever it be, which it is said once dared dispute the

empire of heaven with the Omnipotent, and which all ages have called

Satan, whether it is to be called evil with the Christian, or good with

the philanthropist, a person with the believer, or a primitive and

elemental force with the mesmerist. France, Europe was mesmerized. So

was it again in 1848, though with less terrible external convulsions.

It is impossible to bring the great body of the people of any age to

agree with our Voltarian philosophers—to be genuine Sadducees. In the

first place, the writings of the philosophers and academicians do not

reach the mass; and, in the second place, there are constantly occurring

phenomena which, in their apprehension, give the lie to Sadduceism. At

the very time when the philosophers of pagan Rome were losing all faith

in their national religion, doubting almost the existence of the

Divinity and the immortality of the soul, and laughing at augurs and

soothsayers, the people were more superstitious than ever. It was then

that magicians from Asia and Africa flocked to the Eternal City, and

that Isiac, Bacchic, and other Eastern superstitions, with all their

impurities and wild fanaticism, in comparison with which the national

religion was pure, reasonable, and moral, were introduced, and spread as

an epidemic; and the laws of the earlier emperors show how hard and how

ineffectually authority labored to suppress them.

The enemies of Christianity may accept the mysterious phenomena,

commonly regarded as diabolical, and explain them and the miracles of

the Bible and the alleged miracles of the Church on natural principles,

and if they cannot explain them on any known natural principles, they

may make them the basis of an induction of a new natural principle; or,

in other words, invent a natural principle to explain them, as Baron

Reichenbach has done—a principle, element, substance, or force, which he

calls _od_. They may do this, or they may recognize their real spiritual

and superhuman origin, but ascribe them to good, not to evil spirits, or

what is the same thing, maintain that what the world has hitherto

worshipped as good is evil, and what it has been taught to avoid as evil

is good. That is, that Satan is God, and God is Satan.

Swedenborg, in founding his New Jerusalem, or New Church, and Joe Smith,

in founding the Church of the Latter Day Saints, as Mahomet in the

seventh century, virtually adopted the latter course. Swedenborg became,

in the later years of his life, a somnambulist, and could throw himself

into the state which some mesmerists call sleep-waking, in which he was

a clairvoyant, and had the power of second sight. He fancied himself a

prophet, and capable of teaching angels as well as men. But he held the

power he found himself able to exercise, to be good as well as

supernatural.

The same was the case with Joe Smith, an idle, shiftless lad, utterly

incapable of conceiving, far less of executing the project of founding a

new church. He was ignorant, illiterate, and weak, and of bad

reputation. I knew his family, and even him also, in my boyhood, before

he became a prophet. He was one of those persons in whose hand the

divining-rod will operate, and he and others of his family spent much

time in searching with the rod for watercourses, minerals, and hidden

treasures. Every mesmerizer would at once have recognized him as an

impressible subject. He also could throw himself, by artificial means,

that of a peculiar kind of stone, which he called his Urim and Thummim,

into the sleep-waking state, in which only would he or could he

prophesy. In that state he seemed another man. Ordinarily his look was

dull, and heavy, almost stupid; his eye had an inexpressive glare, and

he was rough, and rather profane. But the moment he consulted his Urim

and Thummim, and the spirit was upon him, his face brightened up, his

eye shone and sparkled as living fire, and he seemed instinct with a

life and energy not his own. He was in those times, as one of his

apostles assured me, “awful to behold.”

Much nonsense has been vented by the press about the origin of his

Bible, or the Book of Mormon. The most ridiculous as well as the most

current version of the affair is, that the book was originally written

as a novel, by one Spalding, a Presbyterian minister in Pennsylvania,

and that Joe got hold of the manuscript and published it as a new Bible.

This version is refuted by a simple perusal of the book itself, which is

too much and too little to have had such an origin. In his normal state,

Joe Smith could never have written the more striking passages of the

Book of Mormon; and any man capable of doing it, could never have

written any thing so weak, silly, utterly unmeaning as the rest. No man

ever dreamed of writing it as a novel, and whoever had produced it in

his normal state, would have made it either better in its feebler parts,

or worse in its stronger passages.

The origin of the book was explained to me by one of Joe’s own elders,

on the authority of the person who, as Joe’s amanuensis, wrote it. From

beginning to end, it was dictated by Joe himself, not translated from

plates, as was generally alleged, but apparently from a peculiar stone,

which he subsequently called his Urim and Thummim, and used in his

divination. He placed the stone in his hat, which stood upon a table,

and then taking a seat, he concealed his face in his hat above it, and

commenced dictating in a sleep-waking state, under the influence of the

mysterious power that used or assisted him. I lived near the place where

the book was produced. I had subsequently ample means of investigating

the whole case, and I availed myself of them to the fullest extent. For

a considerable time the Mormon prophets and elders were in the habit of

visiting my house. They hoped to make me a convert, and they spoke to me

with the utmost frankness and unreserve.

Numerous miracles, or what seemed to be miracles—such miracles as evil

spirits have power to perform—and certain marvellous cures were alleged

to be wrought by the prayers and laying on of the hands of the Mormon

elders. Some of these were wrought on persons closely related and well

known to me personally; and I have heard others confirmed by persons of

known intelligence and veracity, whose testimony was as conclusive for

me as would have been my own personal observation. That there was a

superhuman power employed in founding the Mormon church, cannot easily

be doubted by any scientific and philosophic mind that has investigated

the subject; and just as little can a sober man doubt that the power

employed was not Divine, and that Mormonism is literally the Synagogue

of Satan.

It matters little to the enemies of Christianity, whether the public

deny altogether the marvellous phenomena heretofore regarded as

diabolical, whether they accept and explain them by means of a primitive

force or primordial law of nature, or simply ascribe them to Satanic

invasion, provided it be held that Satan is a philanthropist, the friend

and benefactor of the race, not the enemy; for in any case, Christianity

is denied or undermined. But the purely sceptical theory answers only

for the few, who, it is to be remarked, never see any of these

marvellous phenomena, and who, if they did see them, might be led to

embrace Christianity; but it will never suffice for the many, and can

never subserve the views of reformers who would operate upon the masses.

It however makes no practical difference which of the other two

hypotheses is adopted. For myself, I in some sense adopted both, though,

as I have said, I inclined to the naturalistic theory. But even then I

had begun to contemplate an ulterior object, which might make it more

convenient to adopt the latter hypothesis, for it might become necessary

to overthrow Christianity by the introduction, apparently by

supernatural means, of another religion—a religion in harmony with the

wants of the flesh. It is impossible to overthrow a positive religion by

a pure negation, or to get rid of Christianity without substituting

something positive in its place; for it is to be remarked, that

sceptical ages are the most credulous, and that as Christian faith

recedes, superstition advances. Hence we see in Scandinavia unmistakable

evidences of a revival of the worship of Odin; and only a short time

since, the government had to adopt measures to repress it in the north

of Norway. In many parts of Germany we see a decided tendency to revive

the superstition which Christianity supplanted. When men have no longer

religion, they take refuge in superstition; and when they cease to

worship God, they begin to worship the devil. The most interesting

people to the Englishman Layard that he found in the East, were the

devil-worshippers.

But all this is premature. World-Reform, as I had sketched it to myself,

had for its object unbounded liberty, and was to be accomplished, on the

one hand, by the overthrow of all existing governments, and the complete

disruption of all political and civil society; and on the other, by the

total demolition of the Christian Church, and extirpation of the

Christian religion. Of course it would not do to avow all this, for if I

did, I should defeat my own purposes. Faith still lurked in many a

heart; and the persuasion was very general, that some kind of

government, some kind of political, civil, and even moral restraint was

very generally entertained, even by those whom I must make my

accomplices, and use as my tools. It was necessary to keep one’s own

counsel, or to confide it to the smallest number possible. To the world

it would do to avow only the design of divorcing religion from politics,

and of democratizing the church and society. This might be avowed

without shocking the public at large. For this the public mind was in a

measure prepared. A pious priest could be persuaded to advocate

ecclesiastical democracy, as we have seen in the work of the excellent

Rosmini, in the Five Wounds of the Church.

A popularizing tendency among Catholics had been much encouraged by that

powerful priest, the Abbé de La Mennais, and his enthusiastic

associates. It is true, he had fallen under censure, and had been

excommunicated, _eo nomine_, by Rome; but the party he formed, though

disavowing him, still retained somewhat of his spirit, and followed his

tendency. There was a growing party in France, even among the clergy,

who wished to divorce the church from the state, and induce her to

abandon the courts, and cement an intimate alliance with the people, and

lend her powerful influence to the democratic movements of the day. They

had much that was plausible in their favor. The royal and nobiliaire

governments of Europe had always labored to convert the dignitaries of

the church into courtiers, and to make her their tool for enslaving and

fleecing the people. The greatest injury religion had ever received, it

had received from courtier bishops, and the tyranny of the state over

the church, equally fatal to her and to the people. The real interests

of the church would therefore seem to demand of her to make common cause

with the people against kings and aristocrats, and in favor of

democratic institutions. This conviction was becoming very general among

the more earnest and influential Catholic laymen. A corresponding

conviction was also becoming general among the great mass of the

Protestant populations. It was possible, then, to labor to democratize

society without alarming religious convictions; nay, it was possible to

enlist them to a great extent in the same work. Nobody, it is well

known, helped us on more effectually in Europe than many of the most

distinguished among the Catholic clergy and laity. I need only mention

Ventura and Gioberti in Italy, Montalembert, Lacordaire, Cormenin,

Maret, and Archbishop Affre, in France.

But, after all, great movements are never carried on by simple human

means alone, and never get beyond brilliant theories unless inspired and

sustained by a superhuman power, either from heaven or from hell.

Christianity had taught us the weakness of human nature, and I found

that weakness confirmed by experience. Between the power to conceive and

to execute there is a distance. Men might form the most brilliant

ideals, bring out the soundest, most attractive and perfect theories of

reform, but it would avail nothing unless endued with a power not their

own, to realize them in practice. Here was the defect in the plan of

Signor Urbini and Young Italy. It was skilfully devised, it had all of

human wisdom on its side, but it was ideal, and had no power or energy

to realize itself. No man lifteth himself by his own waistbands. Without

the Whereon to stand, Archimedes, with all his mechanical contrivances,

cannot move the world. It is necessary to have a support outside of man;

a source of power which is not human, and as the world would say, either

Divine or Satanic, to be able to accomplish any thing.

But had I not this very power in the agent I had been experimenting

with? What else was this mesmeric agent, whether a primitive, an

elemental force of nature, or indeed a superhuman spirit endowed with

intelligence and will? Mr. Winslow was, in the main, right. Mesmeric

clubs or circles must be formed on all points on which it is necessary

to operate, and batteries be erected everywhere, so that anywhere, and

at any moment, a mesmeric current may be sent instantaneously through

the masses, infusing into them a superhuman resolution and energy, and

making them stand up and march as one man. This, then, was the first

thing to be done. I would erect my mesmeric batteries in every country

in Europe, all connected by an invisible, but unbroken magnetic chain.

This plan, as far as I thought it prudent, I forthwith communicated to

Priscilla, without whose coöperation I could not carry it into effect.

She approved it, and was ready to coöperate in any way I wished. The

poor lady, I may remark, had no longer any will of her own. She had

craved liberty, and had induced me to aid her in establishing it, and

was now only my slave, bound to me in chains, which, struggle as she

might, she could not, of herself alone, break or unfasten.

The spirit-rapper; an autobiography · 第 11 / 26 章