"In attributing those words to the Ghost," said Panhandle, "Shakespeare
was using him as a stage property and as a means of playing to the
gallery, which is incapable of right notions on this subject. But there
is another passage in the same group of scenes which shows that
Shakespeare was not wholly ignorant of the inner mind of ghosts. Listen
to this:--
'_Enter Ghost._
_Horatio._ What art thou, that usurp'st this time of night,
Together with that fair and warlike form
In which the majesty of buried Denmark
Did sometimes march? By Heaven I charge thee, speak!
_Marcellus._ It is offended.
_Bernardo._ See, it stalks away'"
"Now, what does that mean?" he continued. "The words of Horatio imply
that the Ghost has _usurped_ a reality which does not belong to him;
that he is a wraith, a goblin, or some such absurdity--that, in short,
he is going to be treated in the idiotic manner which is usual with men
in the presence of such apparitions. Doubtless the Ghost saw that these
men were afraid of him, that their hair was standing on end and their
knees knocking together. Disgusted at such an exhibition of what to him
would appear as a mixture of stupidity and bad manners, he turned up his
nose at the lot of them and stalked away in wrath. No self-respecting
ghost would ever consent to be so treated; and that may help you to
understand why communications from the world of spirits are
comparatively rare. Ghosts who believe in the existence of human beings
often regard them as idiots. To communicate with such imbeciles is to
court an insult, or at least to expose the communicating spirit to an
exhibition of revolting antics and limited intelligence. From their
point of view, men are a race of beings whose acquaintance is not worth
cultivating."
"Your words imply," I said, "that some of the ghosts do not believe in
our existence at all."
"The majority are of that mind," he answered. "Belief in the existence
of beings like yourself is regarded among them as betokening a want of
mental balance. A ghost who should venture to assert that you, for
example, were real would certainly risk his reputation, and if he held a
scientific professorship or an ecclesiastical appointment he would be
sneered at by his juniors and made the victim of some persecution. I may
tell you incidentally that the ghosts have among them a Psychical
Research Society which has been occupied for many years in investigating
the reality of the inhabitants of this planet. By the vast majority of
ghosts the proceedings of the Society are viewed with indifference, and
the claim, which is occasionally made, that communication has been
established with the beings whom we know as men is treated with
contempt. The critics point to the extreme triviality of the alleged
communications from this world. They say that nothing of the least
importance has ever come through from the human side, and are wont to
make merry over the imbecility and disjointed nonsense of the messages
reported by the mediums; for you must understand that there are mediums
on that side as well as on this. I happen to know of two instances. Some
time ago two questions, purporting to come from this world, reached the
ghosts. One was, 'What will be the price of Midland Preferred on January
1, 1915?' The other, 'Will it be a boy or a girl?' For months a
committee of ghostly experts has been investigating these
communications, the meaning of which proved at first sight utterly
unintelligible in that world. The matter is still undecided; but the
conclusion most favoured at the moment is that the messages are garbled
quotations from an eminent poet among the ghosts. Meanwhile more than
one great reputation has been sacrificed and the sceptics are jubilant."
"As you speak, Panhandle," I said, "it suddenly occurs to me, with a
kind of shock, that at this moment these beings may be investigating
the reality of my own existence. It would be interesting if I could find
out what they suppose me to be."
"I doubt if the knowledge would flatter you," he answered. "It is highly
probable that you would hear yourself interpreted in lower terms than
even the most malicious of your enemies could invent. A friend of mine,
who is a Doctor of Science, and extremely scornful as to the existence
of spirits, is actually undergoing that investigation by the ghosts the
results of which, if applied to yourself, you would find so interesting.
Some assert that he is a low form of mental energy which has managed to
get astray in the universe. Others declare that he is a putrid emanation
from some kind of matter which science has not yet identified, without
consciousness, but by no means without odour. They allege that they have
walked through him."
At this point of the conversation I suddenly remembered a question which
I had several times had on the tip of my tongue to ask.
"Panhandle," I said, "you seem to be on a familiar footing with the
ghosts. How did you acquire it?"
"Ah, my friend," he replied, "the answer to that is a long story. Come
down to my house in the country, stay a fortnight, and I promise to give
you abundant material for your next book."