SPIRITISM AND MODERN SPIRITUALISM.
Whether what is known as Modern Spiritualism is true or false, it must
have an equal influence on those who believe it to be true. As being,
then, influential for good or for evil over the lives of thousands of
people, its phenomena are deserving of most careful attention. For
the same reason the analogous phenomena which have been from time
to time observed among uncultured peoples are also worthy of study.
There is little doubt that nearly everything which has been done by
modern Spiritualists has been performed from time immemorial by the
Shamans, or sorcery doctors, of the Turanian and allied tribes of the
American and African Continents. The two great essentials required
in either case are the existence of disembodied spirits and mediums
through whom they can communicate with man. As to the former, it is
doubtful whether there is any race of uncivilised men who are not firm
believers in the existence of spirits or ghosts. In most cases, and
probably in all originally, these are the spirits of dead men, who
are thought, for a time at least, to wander about the scenes of their
material life, and occasionally to make their presence known by sounds
or by a visible appearance. So great is the dread of ghosts among
many of such peoples that they will hardly venture out of their huts
after dark, and when any person is compelled to do so he invariably
carries a light, although he would not have the slightest difficulty in
finding his way without its aid. Nor is the medium wanting among the
uncivilised races. The most influential man in the tribe is the sorcery
doctor, except where he is merely a tool in the hands of the chief, and
all his influence is due to his supposed control over, or, at least,
communication with, the denizens of the spirit world. By their aid he
is able to bewitch his own enemies or those of the persons who seek the
exercise of his natural power, and, on the other hand, to discover the
origin of the disease under which the sick man is wasting away, and to
remove it from him should the spirits be propitious. The sorcery doctor
of an African tribe, like the Shaman of the Mongol, is in fact a very
oracle through his supposed power of receiving communications from his
immaterial assistants. Moreover, the means by which he becomes _en
rapport_ with the spirit world are exactly the same as those employed
by the Spiritualist, although the mode in which the mediumistic
condition is induced may often be very different. Whether arrived
at by a process of mesmerism, or by means of a ceremony attended
with great physical and mental excitement, or, on the other hand,
induced by extreme exhaustion, or whether it is caused by a kind of
intoxication, the condition required is one of trance. The most simple
mode of attaining it is probably the _self-mesmerism_ of the Zulus of
Natal, an intense concentration and abstraction of the mind, giving
the clairvoyant faculty. Canon Calloway states that this process of
“inner divination” is commonly practised by herd boys for the purpose
of finding cattle which have strayed; and it is even used as a means of
escape by those who are threatened with destruction by a jealous chief.
This clairvoyant power, which is intimately connected with
Spiritualism, is by some peoples ascribed to spirit communication.
Thus, says Scheffer, among the Laplanders, “When the devil takes a
liking to any person, in his infancy, he haunts him with several
apparitions.... Those who are taken thus a second time see more visions
and gain great knowledge. If they are seized a third time they arrive
to the perfection of this art, and become so knowing, that without the
drum (the magic drum which answers to the tambourine of the Mongol
and the rattle of the American Indian), they can see things at the
greatest distances, and are so possessed by the devil, that they see
them even against their will.” Scheffer adds that on his complaining
against a Lapp on account of his drum, the Lapp brought it to him,
“and confessed with tears that, though he should part with it, and
not make him another, he should have the same visions as formerly and
he instanced the traveller himself, giving him “a true and particular
relation” of whatever had happened to him in his journey to Lapland.”
He complained, moreover, that “he knew not how to make use of his eyes,
since the things altogether distant were presented to them.” According
to Olaus Magnus, the Lapland Shaman “falls into an ecstacy and lies
for a short time as if dead; in the meanwhile his companion takes great
care that no gnat or other living creature touch him, for his soul is
carried by some ill genius into a foreign country, from whence it is
brought back, with a knife, ring, or some other token of his knowledge
of what is done in those parts. After his rising up he relates all the
circumstances belonging to the business that was inquired after.”
Among the special spiritualistic phenomena which are recognised
among uncultured peoples are spirit-rapping, spirit-voices, and the
cord-unloosening, which, when first exhibited, created in England so
much astonishment. The last-named phenomenon is not unknown to the
North American Indians, and is practised by the Greenlanders and by
some of the Siberian Shamans. Thus, among the Samoyedes, “The Shaman
places himself on the ground upon a dry reindeer skin. Then he allows
himself to be firmly bound, hands and feet. The windows are closed, and
the Shaman calls upon the spirits, when suddenly a noise is heard in
the darkened room. Voices are heard within and outside the court; but
upon the dry reindeer skin there is regular rhythmical beating. Bears
growl, serpents hiss, and squirrels seem to jump about. At last the
noise ceases. The windows are opened, and the Shaman enters the court
free and unbound. No one doubts that the spirits have made the noise
and set the Shaman free, and carried him secretly out of the court.”
We have here the noises, voices, and rope untying which are so common
in spiritualistic _séances_. These find a still closer parallel in the
curious rites of Greenland Shamanism, the object of which is to enable
the spirits of the sorcerer to visit heaven or hell as occasion may
require. The historian Crantz thus describes the ceremony:—
“First the devotee drums awhile, making all manner of distorted
figures, by which he enervates his strength and works up his
enthusiasm. Then he goes to the entry of the house, and there gets one
of his pupils to tie his head between his legs, and his hands behind
his back with a string; then all the lamps in the house must be put
out and the windows shut up. For no one must see the interview between
him and the spirit; no one must stir, not so much as to scratch his
head, that the spirit may not be hindered, or rather that he may not
be detected in his knavery.... After he has begun to sing, in which
all the rest join with him, he begins to sigh and puff and foam with
great perturbation and noise, and calls out for his spirit to come to
him, and has often great trouble before he comes. But if the spirit is
still deaf to his cries, and comes not, his soul flies away to fetch
him. During this dereliction of his soul he is quiet, but, by-and-by,
he returns again with shouts of joy—nay, with a certain rustling, so
that a person who has been several times present assured me that it
was exactly as if he heard several birds come flying, first over the
house, and afterwards into it. But if the Torngak (or spirit) comes
voluntarily, he remains without in the entry. There an Angekok (or
magician) discourses with him about anything that the Greenlanders want
to know. Two different voices are distinctly heard, one as without and
one as within. The answer is always dark and intricate. The hearers
interpret the meaning among themselves, but if they cannot agree in
the solution, they beg the Torngak to give the Angekok a more explicit
answer. Sometimes another comes who is not the usual Torngak, in which
case neither the Angekok nor his company understand him.... But if this
communication extends still further, he soars aloft with his Torngak on
a long string to the realm of souls, where he is admitted to a short
conference with the _Angekut poglit_, _i.e._, the fat or the famous
wise ones, and learns there the fate of his sick patient, or even
brings him back a new soul. Or else he descends to the goddess of hell,
and sets the enchanted creatures free. But back he comes presently
again, cries out terribly, and begins to beat his drum; for, in the
meantime, he has found means to disengage himself from his bonds, at
least, by the help of his scholars, and then, with the air of one quite
jaded with his journey, tells a long story of all that he had seen and
heard. Finally, he tunes up a song, and goes round, and imparts his
benediction to all present by a touch. Then they light up the lamps,
and see the poor Angekok wan, fatigued, and harassed, so that he can
scarce speak.”
Except that the civilised medium attains to a state of trance without
so much excitement, and does not, while in that state, take so distant
a journey, the account given by Crantz would almost answer for a
description of a spiritual _séance_. Most of the occasions in which
the sorcerer is consulted would seem to be cases of sickness. Illness
is usually supposed to be caused by the agency of spirits, who are
annoyed at something having been done or omitted, and the mission of
the sorcerer is to ascertain whether the sick man will live or die,
and, if the former, what offering must be given to propitiate his
tormentors. Among the Zulus, the diviners who eat _impepo_ medicine
answer, in a measure, to the Mongolian Shaman, although they do not
profess to have intercourse with supernatural agents. This is reserved,
apparently, for the diviners having familiar spirits. These people
do nothing of themselves, sit quite still, and the answers to the
questions put by inquirers are given by voices at a distance from them.
Canon Calloway gives two curious instances of this mode of divining.
In one of them a young child, belonging to a family from another kraal
which had settled in a village of the Amahlongwa, was seized with
convulsions, and some young men, its cousins, were sent to consult a
woman who had familiar spirits. They found the woman at home, but it
was not until they had waited a long time that a small voice proceeding
from the roof of the hut saluted them. They were, of course, much
surprised at being addressed from such a place, but soon a regular
conversation was carried on between them and the voices, in the course
of which the spirits minutely described the particulars connected with
the child’s illness—a case of convulsions. They then told the young man
that “the disease was not properly convulsions, but was occasioned by
the ancestral spirits, because they did not approve of them living in
their relative’s kraal, and that, on their return home, they were to
sacrifice a goat (which was particularly described), and pour its gall
over the child, giving it at the same time Itongo medicine.” This took
place in the day time, and the woman did nothing but occasionally ask
the spirits if they were speaking the truth. “The young men returned
home,” says Calloway, “sacrificed the goat, poured the gall on the
child, plucked for him Itongo medicine, and gave him the expressed
juice to drink;” and the child had no return of the convulsions, and
is still living. The statement that, during the interview, the woman
did nothing but occasionally ask the spirits if they were speaking the
truth, is somewhat suspicious, but, whatever the explanation of the
case, one thing seems certain—the young men had not seen the woman
before, as she lived on the coast, a day and a half’s journey from
them. In the other instance referred to, the ultimate result was not
so favourable, as the sickness was not removed, but it was attended
with an incident by which we are again reminded of the phenomena of
Spiritualism. The spirits promised to dig up and bring to the diviner
the secret poison which they said was causing the sickness inquired
about. At the time appointed for the poison to be exhibited the old
people assembled in the diviner’s hut, and, after arranging themselves
in a line at the request of the spirits, they soon heard, first one
thing fall on the floor, and then another, until at length each person
was told to take up what belonged to him and throw it into the running
stream, when the disease would be carried away. On examining the things
“some found their beads which they had lost long ago; some found earth
bound up; others found pieces of some old garment; others shreds of
something they had worn; all found something belonging to them.” In
this case, also, the voices came from above; but among some peoples
the spirit enters into the body of the diviner, in like manner as with
spiritualistic mediums. This is so in China, where the spirit of the
dead talks with the living through the male or female medium, as the
case may be—and with all uncultured peoples, in fact, who look upon
their priests, or sorcery doctors, as oracles.
There are two phenomena known to spiritualists which we can expect
to find only among cultured peoples. One of these, the so-called
spirit writing, has been practised by the Chinese probably from time
immemorial, and is effected by means of a peculiarly-shaped pen held
by two men and some sand. The presence of the spirit is shown by a
slow movement of the point of the pen tracing characters in the sand.
After writing a line or two on the sand the pen ceases to move, and the
characters are transferred to paper. After this, if the response is
unfinished, another line is written, and so on, until the pen entirely
ceases its motion, which signifies that the spirit of the divinity
has taken its departure from the pen. Like the spirit drawings of
modern mediums, the meaning of the figures thus obtained is often very
difficult to make out. The other phenomenon is the rising and floating
in the air, in which Mr. Home was so great an adept. This in all ages
has been the privilege of the saints, Asiatic or European, Buddhist or
Christian, who have attained to a state of spiritual ecstacy.
At the beginning of this Essay it was said that, so long as the
phenomena of Spiritualism are believed to be true, they have equal
influence, whether true or false. On the other hand, it must not
be thought that, because they are accepted as true by uncultured
people, therefore they _are_ false, as being merely due to fraud or
superstition. To those even who believe in a spirit world, the question
of spirit action in connection with the phenomena is one of the utmost
difficulty; and a possible explanation may be suggested of the most
remarkable of them, based on physical facts recorded by spiritualists
themselves, without the necessity of seeking spirit agency. It has
been noticed that the faces which appear at the openings of the
cabinet in which the Spiritualist mediums sit are usually at first,
if not ultimately, much like the mediums themselves, and yet it seems
to be absolutely impossible, considering how they are secured, that
such could be the case. It may, however, only be impossible under the
_ordinary_ conditions of physical life. If certain phenomena said to
have been observed were so in reality, the apparent difficulty is
removed. It has frequently been noticed that colouring matter placed
on a spirit hand has afterwards been found on the hand or body of
the medium. This has been established by experiments tried for the
purpose. Further, it is stated that occasionally, when a light has been
suddenly struck, a long hand and arm have been seen swiftly drawn in
towards the medium. Moreover, the body itself of the medium, absurd as
such a thing appears to be, has been seen to elongate, if we are to
believe the statement of Mrs. Corner, made through the _Spiritualist_,
in connection with the medium, Miss Cook. The familiar spirit of this
medium has been seen rising from her body, and some Spiritualists
believe that the spirits usually, if not always, rise out of their
mediums. In the instance just mentioned the spirit was said to have
been visibly connected with the medium by cloudy, faintly luminous
threads.
If we accept these statements as true, most of the phenomena of
Spiritualism are explainable without reference to the agency of
spirits. They would show that the human body must contain within itself
an inner form, be it material or immaterial, which, under proper
conditions, is able to disengage itself either wholly or partly from
its outer covering. The spirit hands which appear, and which are able
to move heavy weights and convey them long distances through the air,
would really be those of the medium. The faces and full length figures
which show themselves, holding conversations, and allowing themselves
to be touched, and even permitting their robes to be cut, become the
faces and figures of the mediums. This view receives confirmation from
the Spiritualist standpoint, from the fact (if such it be) that the
“doubles” of well-known mediums have sometimes been recognised in the
presence of the originals, and (seeing that Spiritualists believe the
body to be capable of elongation) it is not inconsistent with what has
been observed that the spirit figure is sometimes much taller than the
medium. It is consistent, moreover, with the facts, that the distance
from the medium within which the spirit figures can appear is limited,
and that if the hands of the medium be held closely _from the first_,
many of the manifestations cannot be produced. This point has been
insisted upon as proof of imposture; but assuming, for the sake of
argument, the truth of what is said as to the human “double,” it simply
shows how intimately associated are the external covering and the inner
form which has to become disengaged to show itself.
The more the subject is studied the more evident does it become that
most of the phenomena in question are dependent solely on the medium
himself. The evidence of Mrs. Everitt, given in the _Spiritualist_,
seems to furnish the key to all such phenomena as that of the
appearance of “Katie King.” Mrs. Everitt stated that, when entranced,
she had seen her own body[303] in a chair, and been struck with the
circumstance; and she added, that in the case of such a temporary
separation between the spirit and the body, these are united by a
magnetic cord. We have only to imagine that when Mrs. Everitt was
entranced, her spirit became visible to the persons at the _séance_,
and we should have the exact phenomenon produced at Miss Cook’s
_séances_. Moreover, the fact of the so-called spirit and the body
of the medium being visible at the same time, which has been thought
to prove that they are perfectly distinct persons, thus loses its
apparent significance. If Mrs. Everitt’s spirit and the body which she
saw belonged to the same person, so may the spirit seen at Miss Cook’s
_séances_ belong to Miss Cook herself; an inference which is supported
by the fact, that when the former disappeared, it was absorbed into
Miss Cook’s own organism. The magnetic cord which Mrs. Everitt
referred to as uniting the spirit and body while these are temporarily
separated exists also, so far as can be judged from the published
reports of the _séances_ of Katie and Miss Cook.
A remarkable confirmation of the above theory[304] is given in a recent
work by Col. Olcott, who, in 1874, at the Eddy homestead, in Vermont,
U.S., witnessed the appearance of upwards of five hundred materialised
figures, of the reality of which he was convinced, although they could
be accounted for as proceeding from the medium himself, and not as due
to the agency of departed spirits.[305]
While offering the above explanation of many of the most important
phenomena vouched for by the advocates of Spiritualism, it is simply to
show that such phenomena, according to the evidence of Spiritualists
themselves, do not require the intervention of spirit agency, although
this has an important bearing on the past history of mankind. Spiritism
has a marvellous influence over the mind of uncultured man, and it
has retained its influence almost unimpaired through most of the
phases of human progress. A late French writer, after stating that
superstition was supreme in the Roman Empire at the commencement of
the Christian era, declares that magic was universally practised,
with the object of acquiring, by means of “demons”—the spirits of
the dead—power to benefit the person using it, or to injure those
who were obnoxious to him. It is thus evident that the phenomena to
which the modern term “Spiritualism” has been applied are of great
interest to the Anthropologist, and, indeed, of the utmost importance
for a right understanding of some of the chief problems with which he
has to deal. They constitute an element in the life-history of past
generations which cannot be left out of consideration when their mental
and moral condition are being studied; and modern _Spiritualism_ may,
therefore, be studied with great advantage as a key to what is more
properly called _Spiritism_. Not that the former can be considered as
an instance of “survival,” in the proper sense of this phrase. Apart
from such isolated instances as that of Swedenborg, Spiritualism is
of quite recent introduction, and it appears to have had no direct
connection with its earlier prototype. It is worthy of note, however,
that it sprang up among the people who have long been in contact
with primitive tribes, over whom Spiritism has always had a powerful
influence. It is possible that intermixture of Indian blood with that
of the European settlers in North America may have had something to do
with the appearance of Spiritualism, which would thus be an example of
intellectual reversion, analogous to the physical divergence to the
Indian type which has by some writers been ascribed to the descendants
of those settlers. Or the former may be merely a resemblance, instead
of a reversion, dependent on the change in the physical organism. In
either case, it is somewhat remarkable that many of the so-called
“spirits,” which operate through Spiritualist mediums, claim to have
had an American (Indian) origin.
FOOTNOTES:
[302] I have not forgotten the so-called _Mutterrecht_. Whatever the
influence of woman, as head of the family or household, however, her
position in society was a secondary one, except under the conditions
referred to in the chapter on “Sacred Prostitution.”