Dr. V----, a professed materialist, one who, according to the popular

phrase, _believes in nothing_, believes, nevertheless, in his mother.

Like Count B----, he lost her early, and has never ceased to feel her

presence. He told us that he is more frequently with his dead mother,

than he used to be when she was living. This professed apostle of

medical materialism has, without being aware of it, conversations with

an emancipated soul.

A celebrated journalist, M. R----, lost a son, twenty years of age, a

charming, gentle youth, a writer, and a poet. Every day M. R---- has an

intimate conversation with this son. A quarter of an hour of solitary

recollection admits him to direct communication with the beloved being

snatched away from his love.

M. L----, a barrister, maintains constant relations with a sister who,

when living, possessed, according to him, every human perfection, and

who never fails to guide her brother in every difficulty of his life,

great or small.

Another consideration suggests itself in support of the idea which

occupies us at present. It has been remarked that artists, writers, and

thinkers, after the loss of one beloved, have found their faculties,

talents, and inspirations increased. We might surmise that the

intellectual faculties of those whom they have loved have been added

to their own. I know a financier who is remarkable for his business

capacities. When he finds himself in a difficulty, he stops, without

troubling himself to seek for its solution. He waits, knowing that the

missing idea will come to him spontaneously, and, sometimes after days,

sometimes after hours, the idea comes, just as he has expected. This

happy and successful man has experienced one of the deepest sorrows

the heart can know; he has lost an only son, aged eighteen years, and

endowed with all the qualities of maturity, combined with the graces of

youth. Our readers may draw the conclusion for themselves.

This last example may instruct us concerning a peculiarity of the

superior manifestations which we are studying. We have just said

that sometimes a certain time, some days for instance, are required

for the production of the manifestations. The cause of this is that

the superhuman being, to whom they are due, has much difficulty in

putting himself in relation with the inhabitants of our globe. There

are many beings on the earth whom he loves, and whom he would fain

protect, and he cannot be in two different places at the same time.

We may even suppose that the difficulties which human beings feel in

putting themselves in relation with us, added to the spectacle of the

sufferings and misfortunes which overwhelm their friends here below,

are the causes of the only sorrows which trouble their existence, so

marvellously happy in other respects. Absolute happiness exists nowhere

in the world, and destiny has the power to let fall one drop of gall

into the cup of happiness quaffed by the dwellers in ether, in their

celestial abode.

Persons who receive communications from the dead have remarked that

these communications sometimes cease quite suddenly. A celebrated

actress, now retired from the stage, had manifest communications with

a person whom she had lost by a tragical death. These communications

abruptly ceased. The soul of the dead friend whom she mourned warned

her that their intercourse was about to cease. The assigned reason

serves to explain why such relation cannot be continuously maintained.

The superhuman being who was in relations with the terrestrial

person had already risen in rank in the celestial hierarchy, he had

accomplished a new metamorphosis, and he could no longer correspond

with the earth.

Among the French peasantry communication with the dead is a general

habit. In the country death does not involve the lugubrious ideas which

accompany it among the dwellers in cities. People love and cultivate

the memory of those whom they have loved, they hold as most happy those

whom the favour of Providence has early removed from the misfortunes,

the failures, the bitterness of terrestrial life, they call on them,

they confide in them, and the dead, grateful for this pious memory of

them, respond to the simple prayers of these hearts. All the Orientals

have that serene aspiration towards death which in Europe exists

exclusively among country people. The Mussulmans love to invoke death,

to spread the idea of death everywhere. Every one knows the melancholy

proverb of the Arabs, "It is better to be seated than standing; it

is better to be lying down than seated; it is better to be dead than

living."

The preceding chapter terminated with a quotation from Charles

Bonnet, the first of the naturalists who discerned the doctrine of

the plurality of existences above the globe. We shall terminate

this chapter with a quotation from another naturalist philosopher,

a contemporary of Charles Bonnet, who defended that doctrine very

cleverly. Dupont de Nemours, in his _Philosophie de l'Univers_,

expresses himself thus, on the subject of the communications which

may be established between us, and the superior beings, invisible

inhabitants of other worlds, whom he calls _angels_, or _genii_.

"Why," said Dupont, "have we no evident knowledge of these beings,

the necessity, convenience, and analogy of whom strike our

reflective faculties which only can indicate them? of those beings

who must surpass us in perfections, in faculties, in power, as much

as we surpass the lower animals and the plants?--who must have a

hierarchy as various, as finely graduated as that which we admire

among the living and intelligent beings over which we dominate,

and which are subordinate to us?--several others of whom may be

our companions on earth, as we are of animals which, destitute

of sight, hearing, and the sense of smell, of hands and of feet,

do not know what we are even when we are doing them good, or

harm?--some of whom are perhaps travelling from globe to globe, or,

more excellent still, from one solar system to another, more easily

than we go from Brest to Madagascar?

"It is because we have neither such organs or such senses as would

be necessary to enable our intelligence to communicate with them.

"Thus do the worlds embrace the worlds, and thus are classified

intelligent beings all composed of matter which God has more or

less richly organized and vivified.

"Such is the probability, and, speaking to vigorous minds which do

not shrink from novel suggestions, I will dare to say that such is

the truth.

"Man is capable of calculating that it is frequently for his

own interest to be useful to other species; and, which is more

valuable, more moral, and more amiable, he is capable of rendering

them services for his own satisfaction, and without any other

motive than the pleasure which it affords him to do so.

"That which we do for our lower brethren, we, whose intelligence

is circumscribed, and whose goodness is very limited, the genii,

the angels,--permit me to employ terms in general use to designate

beings whom I only divine but do not know,--these beings who are so

much more worthy than we, ought to do, and doubtless do, the same

for us, with much more beneficence, frequency, and extent on all

occasions which concern them.

"We know perfectly well that these intelligences exist, and it is

of little importance to us whether they are, as some persons think,

formed of a sort of matter, composed of mixed material, or not.

Their quota of intelligence is very brilliant, very remarkable,

and evident; in strong contrast with the properties of inanimate

nature, which can be measured, weighed, calculated, and analyzed.

"In order to comprehend what is the action of superhuman

intelligences, who can only be known to us by induction, reason,

and comparison between what we ourselves are to even the most

intelligent animals, which are efficiently served by us, but have

not the smallest idea of us, we must pursue analogy farther. These

intelligences are above us, and out of the reach of our senses

only because they are endowed with a greater number of senses, and

with a more developed and more active life. These beings are more

worthy than we are, they have many more organs and faculties, they

must therefore, in employing their disposable faculties according

to their will, just as we employ ours according to our will, be

able to dispose, to work, to manœuvre all inanimate matter, and to

do all this among themselves, and also with respect to intelligent

beings who are their inferiors, with much more energy, rapidity,

enlightenment, and wisdom than we possess, we who nevertheless do

it for the beasts subordinate to us. It is, then, in harmony with

the laws and the ways of nature that the superior intelligences

should have power to render us, when it pleases them, most

important services of which we are quite ignorant.

"These unknown protectors who observe us, unperceived, have not our

imperfections, and must prize all that is good and beautiful in

itself more highly than we can.

"We cannot, therefore, hope to please intelligences of a superior

grade by actions which men themselves would condemn as odious.

We cannot flatter ourselves with a hope of deceiving them, as we

may deceive men, by exterior hypocrisy which only renders crime

more despicable. They can behold our most secret actions, they can

overhear our soliloquies, they can penetrate our unspoken thoughts.

We know not in how many ways they can read what is passing in our

hearts, we, whose coarseness, poverty, and unskilfulness limit our

means of knowing to touch, sight, hearing, and sometimes analysis

and conjecture.

"A celebrated Roman wished to have a house built, which should

be open to the sight of the citizens. This house exists, and we

inhabit it. Our neighbours are the chiefs and the magistrates of

the great republic, who are invested with right and power to punish

even our intentions, which are no mystery to them. And those who

most completely penetrate them in their smallest variations, in

their lightest inflections, are the most powerful and the most wise.

"Let us then try, in so far as it depends on us, to keep in accord

with those in comparison with whom we are so small, and, above all,

let us understand our littleness. If it be very important to us

to admit to our complete friendship, to our entire confidence, to

our constant society, none but men of the first rank of mind and

character--if the sweet competition of affection, zeal, goodness,

and capacity which is always going on between them and us,

contributes to our improvement every day, what shall we not gain by

giving them adjuncts, so to speak, higher and more perfect, who are

not subject, either to our ignoble interests, our passions, or our

errors, and before whom we cannot but blush. They do not vary, they

do not abandon us, they never go away, so soon as we are alone we

find them. They accompany us in travel, in exile, in prison, in a

dungeon; they are always floating above the peaceful and reflecting

brain.

"We can question them, and every time we do so, we may be sure that

they reply. Why should they not do so? Our absent friends render us

such service, but only those of their number who inspire us with

great respect. We can even experience something of the kind with

regard to an imaginary personage, if he presents himself to our

minds as uniting several good and heroic qualities. How often, in

difficult circumstances and in the midst of the strife of different

passages, I have asked myself,--In this case, what would Charles

Grandison have done? What would Quesnay have thought? What would

Turgot have approved of? What advice would Lavoisier have given me?

How shall I gain the approval of the angels? What line of action

will be most conformable to the order, the laws and the beneficent

views of the wise and majestic King of the universe? For the

homage, the aspirations of a soul eager to do good, and careful to

avoid debasement, may also be raised to God, in salutary and pious

invocation."[11]

[Illustration]

FOOTNOTES:

[10] "Liber de animâ," ch. xlvi

[11] Pezzani: "_Pluralité des Existences de l'âme_," pp. 206-210.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER THE ELEVENTH.

WHAT IS AN ANIMAL?--THE SOULS OF ANIMALS.--MIGRATIONS OF SOULS THROUGH

THE BODIES OF ANIMALS.

HITHERTO we have left animals out of our plan, although, owing to their

immense number, and their influence upon the places which they inhabit,

they play a highly important part in the world. It is now time to

define the place in nature which our system assigns to them.

Have animals souls? Yes, in our belief, animals have souls; but among

animals of all classes the soul is far from being endowed with an

equal degree of activity. The activity of the soul is different in

the crocodile and in the dog, in the eagle and in the grasshopper.

In inferior animals, zoophytes and mollusca, the soul exists only

in the condition of a germ. This germ develops itself, and becomes

amplified according to the elevation of animals in the series of

organic perfection. The sponge and the coral are zoophytes (animal

plants). In these beings, the characteristics of animality, although

they exist very positively, are obscure and hardly discernible.

Voluntary motion, which is the distinctive characteristic formerly

demanded for animals, is wanting in them; they are motionless, like the

plants. Nevertheless, their nutrition is the same as that of animals,

therefore they belong to the animal world. We cannot, however, grant

to them a complete soul, but only the germ, the originating point of

a soul. Among mollusca (such as marine and land shells, the oyster,

the snail, &c.), the motions and the conduct of life are dictated by

the will, and that suffices, in our belief, to reveal their possession

of a soul, imperfect and very elementary, but certainly existent.

Among articulated animals, the insects especially, will, sensibility,

acts which denote reason, deliberation, and action resulting from

deliberation, are numerous, and recurrent at every moment. They denote

intelligence already active.

The smallness of the bodies of these animals is not an argument to

be used against the fact of their intelligence. In nature nothing is

great, and nothing is little; the monstrous whale and the invisible

gnat are equal in the presence of its laws; both one and the other

have received as their inheritance the degree of intelligence which is

suitable to its need, and it is not by the scale of grandeur that we

must measure the degrees of mind among living creatures. Every one is

familiar with the prodigies of intelligence performed by associated

bees, and by the ants, in their camps and hills. The habits of these

two species of insects, which have been studied and expounded only

in our age, fill us with wonder, almost with awe. But the bees and

the ants do not constitute an exception among the insect class. It

is very probable that in the entire class intelligence exists to the

same degree as in bees and ants, for we do not see why two species of

hymenopterous insects should exclusively possess this privilege, to

the exclusion of other species of the same order, and all the other

orders of the insect class. The fact is, that the bee has been studied

profoundly, because that insect is an object of agricultural industry,

and that, in consequence, it was for man's interest to understand

its customs. This accounts for the successful surmounting of the

difficulties attendant on the study of bees.

We may add, that the observer to whom our knowledge of bees is due,

Pierre Huber, of Geneva, who published his fine works at the end of the

last century, was blind, and that he was obliged to have recourse for

all his observations to the eyes of an illiterate servant, François

Burnens, which is a proof that this kind of study was not inordinately

difficult.

The habits of other species of insects, still unknown to us, must,

according to this, conceal marvels quite as great as those which the

Hubers have revealed in the case of bees and ants.

Let us conclude that insects have souls, since intelligence is a

faculty of the soul.

We may apply the same reasoning to fishes, reptiles, and birds.

In these three classes of animals intelligence progresses towards

perfection, the faculty of reason is manifest, and the degree of

intelligence seems to march at a progressive rate from the fish to the

reptile, and from the reptile to the bird.

In mammiferous animals we observe a degree of advance in intelligence

upon the classes of animals we have just named. But, ought we to

calculate the degree of intelligence of the different mammifers

according to the order in which naturalists have classed these animals?

Ought we to say that the strength of intelligence increases as we

follow the zoological distribution of Cuvier, that is to say, that it

rises from cetacea to carnivora, from carnivora to pachyderms, and from

pachyderms to ruminants, &c.? No, evidently not.

It would be absurd to apportion the intellect of animals to the place

which they occupy in zoological classification. We do not possess

any certain method by which to form such an appreciation in detail.

We remain within the terms of a very acceptable philosophical thesis

in advancing our belief, in a general manner, that the intellectual

faculties of animals augment from the mollusk to the mammifer,

following almost exactly the progressive scale of zoological

classification, but to enter into the peculiarities of these orders

would be to expose ourselves to certain contradiction. In zoophytes the

soul exists as a germ; this germ develops itself and grows in mollusca,

and then in articulated creatures and fishes. The soul acquires certain

faculties, more or less obscure and dim, when it enters the body of a

reptile, and these faculties are manifestly augmented in the body of

a bird. The soul is provided with far more perfected faculties when

it reaches the body of a mammifer. Such is the general outline of our

system.

Let us now follow this system out to the end. In the first pages of

this book, we have advanced our theory that the soul of man, at the

close of its terrestrial existence, passes into the planetary ether,

where it is lodged in the body of a new being, superior to man in

intelligence and morality. If this theory be correct, if this migration

of the soul of man into the body of the superhuman being be real,

analogy obliges us to establish the same relation between the animals,

and then between the animals and man.

We firmly believe that a transmigration, a transmission of souls, or

of the germs of souls, throughout the entire series of the classes of

animals takes place. The germ of a conscious soul which existed in

the zoophyte and the mollusk passes, on the death of those beings,

into the body of an articulated animal. In this first stage of its

journey, the animate germ strengthens and ameliorates itself. The

nascent soul acquires some rudimentary faculties. When this rudiment of

a conscious soul passes out of the body of an articulated animal into

that of a fish or a reptile, it undergoes a new degree of elaboration,

and its power increases. When, escaping from the body of the reptile

or the fish, it is lodged in the form of the bird it receives other

impressions, which become the origin of new perfections. The bird

transmits the spiritual element, already much modified and aggrandized,

to the mammifer, and then, the soul, having again gained power, and the

number of its faculties being augmented, passes into the body of man.

It is probable that in the case of the inferior animals many animate

germs are united to form the superior being. For instance, the

principal animators of a certain number of little zoophytes, of those

beings who live in the waters by millions, may, probably, on quitting

the bodies of those beings, be united in one in order to form the soul

of a single individual of a superior order.

It would be impossible to specify from what particular mammifer the

soul must escape, in order to penetrate a human organism. It would

be impossible to decide whether, before reaching man the soul has

successively traversed the bodies of several mammifers, of more or less

complicated organism; if it has passed through the body of a cetacian,

then of a carnivorous creature, then of a quadrumane, the last term of

the animal series. A pretension to detail would be a stumbling block to

such a system as ours.

To maintain, for instance, that our soul is transmitted to us by the

quadrumane, would be incorrect. The intelligence of the quadrumane is

inferior to that of many animals more highly placed than he in the

zoological scale. Apes, which compose only one family in the very

numerous order of quadrumana, are animals of middling intelligence.

They are malicious, cunning and gross, and possess only a few features

of the human face, and even these belong to but few species. All the

other quadrumanes are bestial in the highest degree.

It is not, therefore, in the quadrumana that we must look for the

soul to be transmitted to man. But there are animals endowed with

intelligence which is both powerful and noble, who would have a

title to be accredited with such an honour. Those animals would vary

according to the inhabited parts of the earth. In Asia, it may be

that the wise, grave, and noble elephant is the depositary of the

spiritual principle which is to pass into man. In Africa, the lion,

the rhinoceros, the numerous ruminants which fill the forests may,

perhaps, be the ancestors of the human race. In America, the horse,

the wild ranger of the pampas, the dog, the faithful friend, the

devoted companion of man, everywhere are, it may be, charged with

the elaboration of the spiritual principle, which, transmitted to

the child, is destined to develop itself, to increase in that child,

and become the human soul. A writer in our time has called the dog a

candidate for humanity. He little knew how true his definition is.

It will be urged, in objection, that man cannot have received the soul

of an animal, because he has not the smallest remembrance of such a

genealogy. To this we reply that the faculty of memory is wanting

in the animal, or is so fugitive that we may consider it _nil_. The

child can therefore receive from the animal only a soul unendowed with

memory. And, in fact, the child itself is totally destitute of that

faculty. At the moment of his birth he differs not at all from the

animal as regards the faculties of his soul. It is not until twelve

months have elapsed that the soul makes itself evident in him, and it

is afterwards perfected by education. How, therefore, should the child

remember an existence prior to his birth? Have we any memory of the

time which we passed in our mother's womb?

Let us observe here that the progressive order which we have indicated

for the migration of soul through the bodies of different animals,

is precisely that which nature followed in the first creation of the

organized beings which people our globe. It will be seen in ch. xiv.,

pp. 196-200, that plants zoophytes, mollusca, and articulated animals

are the first living beings which appeared on our globe. After them

came the fishes, and then the reptiles. After the reptiles birds, and

at a later period mammifers appeared. Thus our system responds to the

routine which nature has followed in the creation of plants and animals.

The Day After Death; Or, Our Future Life According to Science (New Edition) · 第 8 / 19 段