THE COMING LIFE
Now, leaving this large and possibly contentious subject of the
modifications which such new revelations must produce in Christianity,
let us try to follow what occurs to man after death. The evidence on
this point is fairly full and consistent. Messages from the dead have
been received in many lands at various times, mixed up with a good deal
about this world, which we could verify. When messages come thus, it
is only fair, I think, to suppose that if what we can test is true,
then what we cannot test is true also. When in addition we find a very
great uniformity in the messages and an agreement as to details which
are not at all in accordance with any pre-existing scheme of thought,
then I think the presumption of truth is very strong. It is difficult
to think that some fifteen or twenty messages from various sources of
which I have personal notes, all agree, and yet are all wrong, nor is
it easy to suppose that spirits can tell the truth about our world but
untruth about their own.
I received lately, in the same week, two accounts of life in the next
world, one received through the hand of the near relative of a high
dignitary of the Church, while the other came through the wife of a
working mechanician in Scotland. Neither could have been aware of the
existence of the other, and yet the two accounts are so alike as to be
practically the same.[2]
[2] Vide Appendix II.
The message upon these points seems to me to be infinitely reassuring,
whether we regard our own fate or that of our friends. The departed
all agree that passing is usually both easy and painless, and followed
by an enormous reaction of peace and ease. The individual finds
himself in a spirit body, which is the exact counterpart of his old
one, save that all disease, weakness, or deformity has passed from it.
This body is standing or floating beside the old body, and conscious
both of it and of the surrounding people. At this moment the dead man
is nearer to matter than he will ever be again, and hence it is that at
that moment the greater part of those cases occur where, his thoughts
having turned to someone in the distance, the spirit body went with the
thoughts and was manifest to the person. Out of some 250 cases
carefully examined by Mr. Gurney, 134 of such apparitions were actually
at this moment of dissolution, when one could imagine that the new
spirit body was possibly so far material as to be more visible to a
sympathetic human eye than it would later become.
These cases, however, are very rare in comparison with the total number
of deaths. In most cases I imagine that the dead man is too
preoccupied with his own amazing experience to have much thought for
others. He soon finds, to his surprise, that though he endeavours to
communicate with those whom he sees, his ethereal voice and his
ethereal touch are equally unable to make any impression upon those
human organs which are only attuned to coarser stimuli. It is a fair
subject for speculation, whether a fuller knowledge of those light rays
which we know to exist on either side of the spectrum, or of those
sounds which we can prove by the vibrations of a diaphragm to exist,
although they are too high for mortal ear, may not bring us some
further psychical knowledge. Setting that aside, however, let us
follow the fortunes of the departing spirit. He is presently aware
that there are others in the room besides those who were there in life,
and among these others, who seem to him as substantial as the living,
there appear familiar faces, and he finds his hand grasped or his lips
kissed by those whom he had loved and lost. Then in their company, and
with the help and guidance of some more radiant being who has stood by
and waited for the newcomer, he drifts to his own surprise through all
solid obstacles and out upon his new life.
This is a definite statement, and this is the story told by one after
the other with a consistency which impels belief. It is already very
different from any old theology. The Spirit is not a glorified angel
or goblin damned, but it is simply the person himself, containing all
his strength and weakness, his wisdom and his folly, exactly as he has
retained his personal appearance. We can well believe that the most
frivolous and foolish would be awed into decency by so tremendous an
experience, but impressions soon become blunted, the old nature may
soon reassert itself in new surroundings, and the frivolous still
survive, as our seance rooms can testify.
And now, before entering upon his new life, the new Spirit has a period
of sleep which varies in its length, sometimes hardly existing at all,
at others extending for weeks or months. Raymond said that his lasted
for six days. That was the period also in a case of which I had some
personal evidence. Mr. Myers, on the other hand, said that he had a
very prolonged period of unconsciousness. I could imagine that the
length is regulated by the amount of trouble or mental preoccupation of
this life, the longer rest giving the better means of wiping this out.
Probably the little child would need no such interval at all. This, of
course, is pure speculation, but there is a considerable consensus of
opinion as to the existence of a period of oblivion after the first
impression of the new life and before entering upon its duties.
Having wakened from this sleep, the spirit is weak, as the child is
weak after earth birth. Soon, however, strength returns and the new
life begins. This leads us to the consideration of heaven and hell.
Hell, I may say, drops out altogether, as it has long dropped out of
the thoughts of every reasonable man. This odious conception, so
blasphemous in its view of the Creator, arose from the exaggerations of
Oriental phrases, and may perhaps have been of service in a coarse age
where men were frightened by fires, as wild beasts are seared by the
travellers. Hell as a permanent place does not exist. But the idea of
punishment, of purifying chastisement, in fact of Purgatory, is
justified by the reports from the other side. Without such punishment
there could be no justice in the Universe, for how impossible it would
be to imagine that the fate of a Rasputin is the same as that of a
Father Damien. The punishment is very certain and very serious, though
in its less severe forms it only consists in the fact that the grosser
souls are in lower spheres with a knowledge that their own deeds have
placed them there, but also with the hope that expiation and the help
of those above them will educate them and bring them level with the
others. In this saving process the higher spirits find part of their
employment. Miss Julia Ames in her beautiful posthumous book, says in
memorable words: "The greatest joy of Heaven is emptying Hell."
Setting aside those probationary spheres, which should perhaps rather
be looked upon as a hospital for weakly souls than as a penal
community, the reports from the other world are all agreed as to the
pleasant conditions of life in the beyond. They agree that like goes
to like, that all who love or who have interests in common are united,
that life is full of interest and of occupation, and that they would by
no means desire to return. All of this is surely tidings of great joy,
and I repeat that it is not a vague faith or hope, but that it is
supported by all the laws of evidence which agree that where many
independent witnesses give a similar account, that account has a claim
to be considered a true one. If it were an account of glorified souls
purged instantly from all human weakness and of a constant ecstasy of
adoration round the throne of the all powerful, it might well be
suspected as being the mere reflection of that popular theology which
all the mediums had equally received in their youth. It is, however,
very different to any preexisting system. It is also supported, as I
have already pointed out, not merely by the consistency of the
accounts, but by the fact that the accounts are the ultimate product of
a long series of phenomena, all of which have been attested as true by
those who have carefully examined them.
In connection with the general subject of life after death, people may
say we have got this knowledge already through faith. But faith,
however beautiful in the individual, has always in collective bodies
been a very two-edged quality. All would be well if every faith were
alike and the intuitions of the human race were constant. We know that
it is not so. Faith means to say that you entirely believe a thing
which you cannot prove. One man says: "My faith is THIS." Another
says: "My faith is THAT." Neither can prove it, so they wrangle for
ever, either mentally or in the old days physically. If one is
stronger than the other, he is inclined to persecute him just to twist
him round to the true faith. Because Philip the Second's faith was
strong and clear he, quite logically, killed a hundred thousand
Lowlanders in the hope that their fellow countrymen would be turned to
the all-important truth. Now, if it were recognised that it is by no
means virtuous to claim what you could not prove, we should then be
driven to observe facts, to reason from them, and perhaps reach common
agreement. That is why this psychical movement appears so valuable.
Its feet are on something more solid than texts or traditions or
intuitions. It is religion from the double point of view of both
worlds up to date, instead of the ancient traditions of one world.
We cannot look upon this coming world as a tidy Dutch garden of a place
which is so exact that it can easily be described. It is probable that
those messengers who come back to us are all, more or less, in one
state of development and represent the same wave of life as it recedes
from our shores. Communications usually come from those who have not
long passed over, and tend to grow fainter, as one would expect. It is
instructive in this respect to notice that Christ's reappearances to
his disciples or to Paul, are said to have been within a very few years
of his death, and that there is no claim among the early Christians to
have seen him later. The cases of spirits who give good proof of
authenticity and yet have passed some time are not common. There is,
in Mr. Dawson Roger's life, a very good case of a spirit who called
himself Manton, and claimed to have been born at Lawrence Lydiard and
buried at Stoke Newington in 1677. It was clearly shown afterwards that
there was such a man, and that he was Oliver Cromwell's chaplain. So
far as my own reading goes, this is the oldest spirit who is on record
as returning, and generally they are quite recent. Hence, one gets all
one's views from the one generation, as it were, and we cannot take
them as final, but only as partial. How spirits may see things in a
different light as they progress in the other world is shown by Miss
Julia Ames, who was deeply impressed at first by the necessity of
forming a bureau of communication, but admitted, after fifteen years,
that not one spirit in a million among the main body upon the further
side ever wanted to communicate with us at all since their own loved
ones had come over. She had been misled by the fact that when she first
passed over everyone she met was newly arrived like herself.
Thus the account we give may be partial, but still such as it is it is
very consistent and of extraordinary interest, since it refers to our
own destiny and that of those we love. All agree that life beyond is
for a limited period, after which they pass on to yet other phases, but
apparently there is more communication between these phases than there
is between us and Spiritland. The lower cannot ascend, but the higher
can descend at will. The life has a close analogy to that of this
world at it its best. It is pre-eminently a life of the mind, as this
is of the body. Preoccupations of food, money, lust, pain, etc., are
of the body and are gone. Music, the Arts, intellectual and spiritual
knowledge, and progress have increased. The people are clothed, as one
would expect, since there is no reason why modesty should disappear
with our new forms. These new forms are the absolute reproduction of
the old ones at their best, the young growing up and the old reverting
until all come to the normal. People live in communities, as one would
expect if like attracts like, and the male spirit still finds his true
mate though there is no sexuality in the grosser sense and no
childbirth. Since connections still endure, and those in the same
state of development keep abreast, one would expect that nations are
still roughly divided from each other, though language is no longer a
bar, since thought has become a medium of conversation. How close is
the connection between kindred souls over there is shown by the way in
which Myers, Gurney and Roden Noel, all friends and co-workers on
earth, sent messages together through Mrs. Holland, who knew none of
them, each message being characteristic to those who knew the men in
life--or the way in which Professor Verrall and Professor Butcher, both
famous Greek scholars, collaborated to produce the Greek problem which
has been analysed by Mr. Gerald Balfour in The Ear of Dionysius, with
the result that that excellent authority testified that the effect
COULD have been attained by no other entities, save only Verrall and
Butcher. It may be remarked in passing that these and other examples
show clearly either that the spirits have the use of an excellent
reference library or else that they have memories which produce
something like omniscience. No human memory could possibly carry all
the exact quotations which occur in such communications as The Ear of
Dionysius.
These, roughly speaking, are the lines of the life beyond in its
simplest expression, for it is not all simple, and we catch dim
glimpses of endless circles below descending into gloom and endless
circles above, ascending into glory, all improving, all purposeful, all
intensely alive. All are agreed that no religion upon earth has any
advantage over another, but that character and refinement are
everything. At the same time, all are also in agreement that all
religions which inculcate prayer, and an upward glance rather than eyes
for ever on the level, are good. In this sense, and in no other--as a
help to spiritual life--every form may have a purpose for somebody. If
to twirl a brass cylinder forces the Thibetan to admit that there is
something higher than his mountains, and more precious than his yaks,
then to that extent it is good. We must not be censorious in such
matters.
There is one point which may be mentioned here which is at first
startling and yet must commend itself to our reason when we reflect
upon it. This is the constant assertion from the other side that the
newly passed do not know that they are dead, and that it is a long
time, sometimes a very long time, before they can be made to understand
it. All of them agree that this state of bewilderment is harmful and
retarding to the spirit, and that some knowledge of the actual truth
upon this side is the only way to make sure of not being dazed upon the
other. Finding conditions entirely different from anything for which
either scientific or religious teaching had prepared them, it is no
wonder that they look upon their new sensations as some strange dream,
and the more rigidly orthodox have been their views, the more
impossible do they find it to accept these new surroundings with all
that they imply. For this reason, as well as for many others, this new
revelation is a very needful thing for mankind. A smaller point of
practical importance is that the aged should realise that it is still
worth while to improve their minds, for though they have no time to use
their fresh knowledge in this world it will remain as part of their
mental outfit in the next.
As to the smaller details of this life beyond, it is better perhaps not
to treat them, for the very good reason that they are small details.
We will learn them all soon for ourselves, and it is only vain
curiosity which leads us to ask for them now. One thing is clear:
there are higher intelligences over yonder to whom synthetic chemistry,
which not only makes the substance but moulds the form, is a matter of
absolute ease. We see them at work in the coarser media, perceptible
to our material senses, in the seance room. If they can build up
simulacra in the seance room, how much may we expect them to do when
they are working upon ethereal objects in that ether which is their own
medium. It may be said generally that they can make something which is
analogous to anything which exists upon earth. How they do it may well
be a matter of guess and speculation among the less advanced spirits,
as the phenomena of modern science are a matter of guess and
speculation to us. If one of us were suddenly called up by the denizen
of some sub-human world, and were asked to explain exactly what gravity
is, or what magnetism is, how helpless we should be! We may put
ourselves in the position, then, of a young engineer soldier like
Raymond Lodge, who tries to give some theory of matter in the beyond--a
theory which is very likely contradicted by some other spirit who is
also guessing at things above him. He may be right, or he may be
wrong, but he is doing his best to say what he thinks, as we should do
in similar case. He believes that his transcendental chemists can make
anything, and that even such unspiritual matter as alcohol or tobacco
could come within their powers and could still be craved for by
unregenerate spirits. This has tickled the critics to such an extent
that one would really think to read the comments that it was the only
statement in a book which contains 400 closely-printed pages. Raymond
may be right or wrong, but the only thing which the incident proves to
me is the unflinching courage and honesty of the man who chronicled it,
knowing well the handle that he was giving to his enemies.
There are many who protest that this world which is described to us is
too material for their liking. It is not as they would desire it.
Well, there are many things in this world which seem different from
what we desire, but they exist none the less. But when we come to
examine this charge of materialism and try to construct some sort of
system which would satisfy the idealists, it becomes a very difficult
task. Are we to be mere wisps of gaseous happiness floating about in
the air? That seems to be the idea. But if there is no body like our
own, and if there is no character like our own, then say what you will,
WE have become extinct. What is it to a mother if some impersonal
glorified entity is shown to her? She will say, "that is not the son I
lost--I want his yellow hair, his quick smile, his little moods that I
know so well." That is what she wants; that, I believe, is what she
will have; but she will not have them by any system which cuts us away
from all that reminds us of matter and takes us to a vague region of
floating emotions.
There is an opposite school of critics which rather finds the
difficulty in picturing a life which has keen perceptions, robust
emotions, and a solid surrounding all constructed in so diaphanous a
material. Let us remember that everything depends upon its comparison
with the things around it.
If we could conceive of a world a thousand times denser, heavier and
duller than this world, we can clearly see that to its inmates it would
seem much the same as this, since their strength and texture would be
in proportion. If, however, these inmates came in contact with us,
they would look upon us as extraordinarily airy beings living in a
strange, light, spiritual atmosphere. They would not remember that we
also, since our beings and our surroundings are in harmony and in
proportion to each other, feel and act exactly as they do.
We have now to consider the case of yet another stratum of life, which
is as much above us as the leaden community would be below us. To us
also it seems as if these people, these spirits, as we call them, live
the lives of vapour and of shadows. We do not recollect that there
also everything is in proportion and in harmony so that the spirit
scene or the spirit dwelling, which might seem a mere dream thing to
us, is as actual to the spirit as are our own scenes or our own
dwellings, and that the spirit body is as real and tangible to another
spirit as ours to our friends.