CONCLUSION
"The wind-borne mirroring Soul:
A thousand glimpses wins,
And never sees a whole."
It is easier to write the title of this chapter than its contents. For
what general conclusion can be satisfactory, regarding all these
instances of the supernatural? Every one has his own ideas about them,
ranging from the sceptic's point of view to that of the most credulous
believer, both attitudes of mind to be equally deprecated when dealing
with occult phenomena. However, such extremes of opinion are becoming
rare, while the number of people who preserve an open mind on such
subjects is ever increasing, and this, I venture to think, is the right
way of regarding "the Unknown." For blind negation has never enlightened
any one, while uncritical acceptance of unsubstantiated statements is
equally prejudicial to real knowledge. Of course, this attitude of
toleration, and, as it were, awaiting further revelation, is essentially
a modern one. Our forefathers of three or four hundred years ago would
have thought us poor creatures for holding our judgment in suspense.
Most people then believed in "ghosts" and held it no shame to do so;
while the minority of the superior who disbelieved took no pains to
dissemble their scorn and contempt for those who did. There was never
any attempt at impartial investigation of supernatural occurrences; one
section would have had neither the courage nor intelligence necessary,
while the other would have scorned the undertaking. So Superstition's
sway remained unchecked for many a long century, and though its power
began to dwindle directly education became a systematic affair amongst
civilised nations, yet it is only in recent years that one has begun to
foresee a time when its terrors will have disappeared for good and all.
Because it is only within the last few decades that men of great and
trained intellect have discovered that the methods of science and law
apply as perfectly in the investigation of psychic as in material
phenomena; and that discovery once made, I cannot help thinking that it
is merely a matter of time before mankind penetrates the mystery of the
Unseen, though, as I have said before, this will not happen in our
generation. At present we are only at the beginnings of things; learning
the alphabet of a whole new series of experiences, one of which is
telepathy, or thought communicating thought, without aid of the ordinary
senses. We know this wonderful power does exist, reliable experiment has
proved it, but so far we know little more, and can only guess that some
minds in some way--probably unknown to themselves--possess the
mysterious faculty of setting in motion vibrations that travel along a
medium finer and rarer far than the famous Hertzian waves. But presently
the laws that govern such vibrations will be discovered, and mind will
then speak to mind at will, even across half the world. And telepathy,
which we are still apt to think of as something almost supernatural,
will then be as much a matter of course as wireless telegraphy is in our
day.
However, at present we are only on the threshold of these marvels, and
we who are not engaged in the task of occult discovery can still be
interested and entertained by "ghost stories" _as_ ghost stories, and
can discuss various points and form our own ideas about them. And there
is one feature common to a great many of these supernatural tales and
incidents which I think must strike everybody, whether believers or
sceptics, and that is their apparent lack of purpose. There are, as we
have seen, ghostly happenings which come as "warnings," though, as I
have remarked in a former chapter, these warnings seldom appear to avert
disaster. But in nine cases out of ten odd things are seen or heard, and
nothing particular happens afterwards. The question--and a puzzling
one--is, why should these things occur at all? Why should such a
tremendous reversal of the laws which ordinarily govern our human
environment take place, as is implied by, let us say, the extraordinary
experience of Miss Travers at Glanwern, related in Chapter III? Of
course in this volume I have tried to collect ghost stories that _did_
mean something, as naturally they are the more interesting type of
incident. But I have heard innumerable instances of people hearing and
seeing strange things, followed by no particular consequences. Probably
every one knows the kind of tale, interesting to the person concerned,
but rather dull when related.
Perhaps the following illustration will help us to understand these
inconsequent manifestations a little better. Let us imagine ourselves as
the audience in a huge, well-lighted theatre. At least the auditorium is
lit up, but the vast stage is in complete darkness, with a great shadowy
curtain hiding anything that may be taking place behind it from our
eyes. In fact, nobody troubles much about the stage at all, every one is
talking and thinking of other things and few people so much as glance
towards the curtain, though those who do dimly feel that there really is
a play going on behind it, and some of us wish, in a vague sort of way,
that we could know what it is. But sometimes the curtain goes up for a
moment, and then, if any one is looking, he sees a glimpse of the play;
and, not knowing what has come before or what is to follow, it seems
rather meaningless, or even alarming. Sometimes, too, an actor will
appear on the stage, or come amongst the audience with a message for one
or a group of them, but only the few can see him, and his message is not
always intelligible to them. Some bold people, tired of looking at the
impenetrable curtain, have ventured to explore behind it, and if they
escaped the dangers so braved, have tried to impart their experiences to
their friends when they returned. But their accounts are often received
with incredulity or lukewarm interest, some even asserting that there is
really nothing at all behind the curtain, and that the explorers have
merely been the victims of their own imaginations. And this they say,
knowing quite well that when "carriages are called" they and every one
else will have to leave the house by way of the dark stage, and be
obliged to go behind the scenes and learn the mystery that the curtain
hides.
In this simple illustration I have tried to convey the idea of a
life--or perhaps I should rather say a Consciousness--coincident and
connected with this life that we know, but separated from it by a
difference of consciousness which the majority of us are not able at
present to bridge. A few have done so, either by a system of mystic
training, or by the natural gift of the "sixth sense," clairvoyance,
second sight, whatever we like to call it, which in olden days often
caused its possessors to be classed as magicians and witches. And if we
grasp this idea of a consciousness, interwoven and yet by matter
separated from this life, of which only a few of us can get glimpses
from time to time, but which is as absolutely real, perhaps more so than
the life we live here, it will help us enormously to understand the
meaning of psychic phenomena, or what we call "ghost stories." Because
we shall realise that there is _continuity_ behind the veil which hides
the Unseen, just as there is continuity in this life, and that the law
of cause and effect goes with us "behind the scenes," just as it governs
our present existence. So that we must cease to think of any
supernatural incident as irrelevant or inconsequent, even if it means
nothing to ourselves. It is just a glimpse--seen "through a glass
darkly"--of a life organised on lines at present unfamiliar to our own,
and infused with a meaning which we cannot trace, and which we yet feel
has the most intimate connection with our life here.
However, these are paths of metaphysics, in which it is not well to
linger, unless one can give time and all one's thoughts to their
exploration. A little knowledge about occult matters is worse than
useless; it is absolutely dangerous, and every furlong of the road that
leads to such knowledge should be marked with a red signal, for it is
strewn with the wrecked intellects of those who, unequipped, have
lightly followed its windings.
Regarding the chapters in this book which concern Welsh superstitions,
the first idea which occurred to me when reading them over was the
exceedingly gloomy character of these ancient beliefs. They all seem to
dwell morbidly on death and its surroundings, ignoring the lighter and
happier side of life altogether. And any one who did not know Wales
might imagine from reading these tales that the Welsh were a sullen and
silent people, given to solitude and brooding. Nothing could be further
from the truth; they are a lively and gregarious race and never seem to
cease talking amongst themselves. Nobody is fonder of junketing than a
Welshman or Welshwoman, nothing in the way of an outing comes amiss;
fairs, eisteddfodau, "auctions," church and chapel festivals, political
meetings, anything for a jaunt! But the most important functions of all
are--funerals. Every one goes to a funeral, and makes it a point of
honour to do so, for the more burials you attend in your lifetime, the
greater are the number of people who will come to your own obsequies. I
often think of the characteristic remark addressed by a Welshwoman I
knew to an English neighbour, who had no taste for gadding, and found
Cardiganshire rather _triste_. "Well indeed, Mrs. Brown _fach_, I am
sorry for you; but indeed you should go about to fairs and funerals, and
enjoy yourself."
So as funerals and the excitement connected with them really occupy a
large place in the minds of the Welsh country-folk, it is perhaps not
strange that superstition and folk-lore have collected round the
subject and that omens and death warnings should be specially heeded and
repeated. Also, in spite of lively manners and gregarious instincts,
there is a curious strain of melancholy underlying the Welsh character,
in common with the other Celtic races; a trait which I do not think any
one can understand unless he has some Celtic blood in his veins. It is
not a melancholy which colours the disposition, for most Welsh people
are cheerful and pleasant companions. Of course there are variations
from the type, and differences of temperament just as in other
nationalities, but if asked suddenly to name a Welsh characteristic, I
should at once mention cheerfulness. And yet they are melancholy; and if
this sounds paradoxical, it cannot be helped, because it is true. It is
the primitive sadness of an old, old race, the remembrance of
"Old unhappy, far-off things,
And battles long ago,"
inherited from tribal ancestors, and the days when life was a struggle
even to the strong, and elementary passions held undisputed sway. So it
is that the Welsh character unconsciously responds to all that touches
this minor string in its nature, and, as it were, almost enjoys gloom
and woe. This is the secret of the great religious revivals that from
time to time agitate the Principality; the Welsh really relish their
spiritual wretchedness, and enjoy being miserable sinners (especially in
company!). And well does a revivalist like Evan Roberts understand his
work, and the character of his congregations, and know how to twang that
minor string. Not that I would jest at revivals; in many cases their
influence has been for permanent good, and the kind of people they reach
and benefit are no doubt those who require a spiritual "dressing-down"
occasionally.
Nowadays, as I have said before, belief in corpse-candles, Toili, &c.
has very much gone out of fashion amongst the country-folk; the present
generation, having many of them been away to London or the large towns,
are much too superior to believe such things, and it is difficult to get
the old people to talk about them. But it is not so very long ago that
such beliefs were really part of a Welsh person's life, and supernatural
experiences only infrequent enough to be interesting. If John Jones
entered the village inn trembling and perspiring declaring that he had
seen the Toili--well, he _had_ seen it, and no one thought of
questioning his statement, but all fell to wondering "whose Toili" it
could be. And it was not only among the lower classes that these beliefs
obtained, their "betters" often shared them. The story is still told
about here how a neighbouring squire, head of a well-known county
family, saw the Toili in the twilight of a summer's evening, wending its
way along the road which passed his house to the church.
The old gentleman who saw the vision has himself been dead for over
sixty years, but the locality is probably quite unchanged from what it
must have been in his day, and I have often thought when passing the
spot how well the natural surroundings of romantic beauty lent
themselves as a setting to any such weird happening, and have tried to
conjure up the scene in my own mind. To this day it is said that when a
death occurs in that particular family a corpse-light is always seen a
few days previously, flickering and quivering up the drive from the
direction of the churchyard.
But very soon all these ancient beliefs will be obliterated in the land
of Cambria; and though it seems a pity from the picturesque point of
view, and to lovers of antiquity and folk-lore, yet on the whole it is a
good thing. For we who are apt to bewail the passing of the old ideas
often forget that they frequently went hand in hand with dreadful
ignorance both mental and moral. For instance, belief in witchcraft is
very interesting and picturesque to read about in our times, but we
should not overlook the terrible consequences of it which took the form
of torturing and persecuting hundreds of innocent persons only three
hundred years ago. Read Sir Walter Scott's "Demonology and Witchcraft"
if you want to know what the result of a "picturesque superstition" may
be among ignorant people. There is no question as to the ultimate
benefit of enlightenment and education, even if at first they appear to
banish originality and produce monotony of character. But that is better
than the type of mind which could drown an old woman because she kept a
black cat, and sold nasty herbal "love-philtres" to silly girls. I do
not think witches were much persecuted in Wales as a matter of fact,
and, as I have shown, they and "wise men" are still to be found in the
country. As we have seen, superstition took other forms there, and a
greater hold, because it was, I am convinced, rooted in a foundation of
psychic facts, just as the "second sight" was, and I suppose is still, a
fact amongst the Highlanders of Scotland. But I have no doubt that for
one Welshman who did really have the vision of his own or a neighbour's
funeral, there were at least ten who would make the same assertion out
of their own imaginations. And probably now the real faculty is very
rare indeed, for it is a gift belonging to primitive races, and ever
stifled by education and self-consciousness. We cannot deplore its loss,
because with it has gone a mass of darkest ignorance, but that need not
prevent us from being interested in its effect on the traditions and
beliefs of the country. Personally I am quite indifferent as to the
amount of occult truth contained in the miscellaneous material of this
volume; that some truth there is, I do not doubt, but its existence is
of secondary importance in comparison with the delightful, old-world
atmosphere that clings to these antiquities, and seems in some way to
make us realise "the times of our forefathers" better than the history
of more serious events. So let us, in our hurrying, bustling days,
cherish this faint fragrance of a bygone age as long as we can; it will
fade quickly enough, dying with that
"... race of yore,
Who danced their infancy upon their knee,
And told our marvelling boyhood legends store,
Of their strange ventures happed by land or sea.
How are they blotted from the things that be!
How few all weak and withered of their force,
Wait on the verge of dark eternity,
Like stranded wrecks, the tide returning hoarse,
To sweep them from our sight...."