of his death? On the theory of savage philosophy, as explained by Mr.
Tylor himself, a man's soul may leave his body and become visible to
others, not at death only, but on many other occasions, in dream, trance,
lethargy. All these are much more frequent conditions, in every man's
career, than the fact of dying. Why, then, is the phantasm supposed by
savages to announce death? Is it because, in a sufficient ratio of cases
to provoke remark, early man has found the appearance and the death to be
'things connected in fact'?
I give an instance in which the philosophy of savages would lead them
_not_ to connect a phantasm of a living man with his death.
The Woi Worung, an Australian tribe, hold that 'the Murup [wraith] of an
individual could be sent from him by magic, as, for instance, when a
hunter incautiously went to sleep when out hunting.'[15] In this case the
hunter is exposed to the magic of his enemies. But the Murup, or detached
soul, would be visible to people at a distance when its owner is only
asleep--according to the savage philosophy. Why, then, when the wraith is
seen, is the owner believed to be dying? Are the things bound to be
'connected in fact'?
As is well known, the Society for Psychical Research has attempted a
little census, for the purpose of discovering whether hallucinations
representing persons at a distance coincided, within twelve hours, with
their deaths, in a larger ratio than the laws of chance allow as possible.
If it be so, the Maori might have some ground for his theory that such
hallucinations betoken a decease. I do not believe that any such census
can enable us to reach an affirmative conclusion which science will
accept. In spite of all precautions taken, all warnings before, and
'allowances' made later, collectors of evidence will 'select' affirmative
cases already known, or (which is equally fatal) will be suspected of
doing so. Again, illusions of memory, increasing the closeness of the
coincidence, will come in--or it will be easy to say that they came in.
'Allowances' for them will not be accepted.
Once more, 17,000 cases, though a larger number than is usual in
biological inquiries, are decidedly not enough for a popular argument on
probabilities; a million, it will be said, would not be too many.
Finally, granting honesty, accurate memory, and non-selection (none of
which will be granted by opponents), it is easy to say that odd things
_must_ occur, and that the large proportion of affirmative answers as to
coincidental hallucinations is just a specimen of these odd things.
Other objections are put forward by teachers of popular science who have
not examined--or, having examined, misreport--the results of the Census in
detail. I may give an example of their method.
Mr. Edward Clodd is the author of several handbooks of science--'The Story
of Creation,' 'A Manual of Evolution,' and others. Now, in a signed review
of a book, a critique published in 'The Sketch' (October 13, 1897), Mr.
Clodd wrote about the Census: 'Thousands of persons were asked whether
they had ever seen apparitions, and out of these some hundreds, mostly
unintelligent foreigners, replied in the affirmative. Some eight or ten of
the number--envied mortals--had seen "angels," but the majority,
like the American in the mongoose story, had seen only "snakes."...
In weighing evidence we have to take into account the competency as
well as the integrity of the witnesses.' Mr. Clodd has most frankly and
good-humouredly acknowledged the erroneousness of his remark. Otherwise we
might ask: Does Mr. Clodd prefer to be considered not 'competent' or not
'veracious'? He cannot be both on this occasion, for his signed and
published remarks were absolutely inaccurate. First, thousands of persons
were _not_ asked 'whether they had seen apparitions.' They were asked:
'Have you ever, when believing yourself to be perfectly awake, had a vivid
impression of seeing, or being touched by a living being or inanimate
object, or of hearing a voice; which impression, so far as you could
discover, was not due to any external physical cause?' Secondly, it is not
the fact that 'some hundreds, _mostly unintelligent foreigners,_ replied
in the affirmative.' Of English-speaking men and women, 1,499 answered the
question quoted above in the affirmative. Of foreigners (naturally
'unintelligent'), 185 returned affirmative answers. Thirdly, when Mr.
Clodd says, 'The majority had seen only "snakes,"' it is not easy to know
what precise sense 'snakes' bears in the terminology of popular science.
If Mr. Clodd means, by 'snakes,' fantastic hallucinations of animals,
these amounted to 25, as against 830 representing human forms of persons
recognised, unrecognised, living or dead. But, if by 'snakes' Mr. Clodd
means purely subjective hallucinations, not known to coincide with any
event--and this _is_ his meaning--his statement agrees with that of the
Census. His observations, of course, were purely accidental errors.
The number of hallucinations representing living or dying recognised
persons in the answers received, was 352. Of first-hand cases, in which
coincidence of the hallucination with the death of the person apparently
seen was affirmed, there were 80, of which 26 are given.
The non-coincidental hallucinations were multiplied by four, to allow for
forgetfulness of 'misses.' The results being compared, it was decided that
the hallucinations collected coincided with death 440 more often than
ought to be the case by the law of probabilities. Therefore there was
proof, or presumption, in favour of some relation of cause and effect
between A's death and B's hallucination.
If we were to attack the opinion of the Committee on Hallucinations, that
'Between deaths and apparitions of the dying a connection exists which is
not due to chance alone,' the assault should be made not only on the
method, but on the details. The events were never of very recent, and
often were of remote occurrence. The remoteness was less than it seems,
however, as the questions were often answered several years before the
publication of the Report (1894). There was scarcely any documentary
evidence, any note or letter written between the hallucination and the
arrival of news of the death. Such letters, the evidence alleged, had in
some cases existed, but had been lost, burnt, eaten by white ants, or
written on a sheet of blotting paper or the whitewashed wall of a barrack
room. If I may judge by my own lifelong success in mislaying, losing, and
casually destroying papers, from cheques to notes made for literary
purposes, from interesting letters of friends to the manuscripts of
novelists, or if I may judge by Sir Walter Scott's triumphs of the same
kind, I should not think much of the disappearance of documentary evidence
to death-wraiths. Nobody supposed, when these notes were written, that
Science would ask for their production; and even if people had guessed at
this, it is human to lose or destroy old papers.
The remoteness of the occurrences is more remarkable, for, if these things
happen, why were so few recent cases discovered? Again, the seers were
sometimes under anxiety, though such cases were excluded from the final
computation: they frequently knew that the person seen was in bad health:
they were often very familiar with his personal aspect. Now what are
called 'subjective hallucinations,' non-coincidental hallucinations,
usually represent persons very familiar to us, persons much in our minds.
I know seven cases in which such hallucinations occurred. 1, 2, of husband
to wife; 3, son to mother; 4, brother to sister; 5, sister to sister;
6, cousin (living in the same house) to cousin; 7, friend (living a mile
away) to two friends. In no case was there a death-coincidence. Only in
case 4 was there any kind of coincidence, the brother having intended to
do (unknown to the sister) what he was seen doing--driving in a dog-cart
with a lady. But he had _not_ driven. We cannot, of course, _prove_ that
these seven cases were _not_ telepathic, but there is no proof that they
were. Now most of the coincidental cases, on which the Committee relied as
their choicest examples, represented persons familiarly known to the
seers. This looks as if they were casual; but, of course, if telepathy
does exist, it is most likely (as Hegel says) to exist between kinsfolk
and friends.[16]
The dates might be fresher!
In case 1, percipient knew that his aunt in England (he being in
Australia) was not very well. No anxiety.
2. Casual acquaintance. No anxiety. Case of accident or suicide.
3. Acquaintance who feared to die in childbed, and did. Percipient not
much interested, nor at all anxious.
4. Father in England to son in India. No anxiety.
5. Uncle to niece. Sudden death. No anxiety. No knowledge of illness.
6. Brother-in-law to sister-in-law, and her maid. No anxiety reported.
_Russian_.
7. Father to son. No anxiety reported. _Russian_.
8. Friend to friend. No knowledge of illness or anxiety reported.
9. Grandmother to grandson. No anxiety. No knowledge of illness.
10. Casual acquaintance, to seven people, and apparently to a dog. Illness
known. _Russian._
11. Step-brother to step-brother. No anxiety. No knowledge of illness.
12. Friend to friend. No anxiety or knowledge of illness.
13. Casual acquaintance. No anxiety.
14. Aunt to nephew and to his wife. Illness known. No anxiety.
15. Sister to brother. Illness known. No anxiety.
16. Father to daughter. No knowledge of illness. No anxiety.
17. Father to son. Much anxiety. (Uncounted.)
18. Sister to sister. Illness known. 'No immediate danger' surmised.
19. Father to son. Much anxiety. _Russian._ (Uncounted.)
20. Friend to friend. Illness known. Percipient had been nursing patient.
_Brazilian._ (Very bad case!)
21 Friend to friend. Illness known. No anxiety.
22. Brother to brother. Illness known. No anxiety.
23. Grandfather to grand-daughter. Illness known. No pressing anxiety.
24. Grandfather to grandson. Illness known. No anxiety.
25. Father's _hand._ Illness chronic. No anxiety. Percipient a daughter.
_Russian._
20. Husband to wife. Anxiety in time of war.
27. Brother to sister. Slightly anxious from receiving no letter.
28. Friend to friend. No anxiety.
Anxiety is only reported, or to be surmised, in two or three cases. In a
dozen the existence of illness was known.
It may therefore be argued, adversely, that in the selected coincidental
hallucinations, the persons seen were in the class most usually beheld in
non-coincidental and, probably, purely subjective hallucinations
representing real persons; also, that knowledge of their illness, even
when no anxiety existed, kept them in some cases before the mind; also,
that several cases are foreign, and that 'most foreigners are fools.' On
the other hand, affection, familiarity, and knowledge of illness had _not_
produced hallucinations even in the case of these percipients, till
within the twelve hours (often much less) of the event of death.
It would have been desirable, of course, to publish all the
_non_-coincidental cases, and show how far, in these not _veridical_
cases, the recognised phantasms were those of kindred, dear friends, known
to be ill, and subjects of anxiety[17].
The Census, in fact, does contain a chapter on 'Mental and Nervous
Conditions in connection with Hallucinations,' such as anxiety, grief,
and overwork. Do these produce, or probably produce, many empty
hallucinations _not_ coincident with death or any great crisis? If they
do, then all cases in which a coincidental hallucination occurred
to a person in anxiety, or overstrained, will seem to be, probably,
fortuitous coincidences like the others. All percipients, of all sorts
of hallucinations, hits or misses, were asked if they were in grief or
anxiety. Now, out of 1,622 cases of hallucination of all known kinds
(coincidental or not), mental strain was reported in 220 instances; of
which 131 were cases of grief about known deaths or anxiety. These mental
conditions, therefore, occur only in twelve per cent. of the instances. On
the whole, it does not seem fair to argue that anxiety produces so much
hallucination that it will account by itself for those which we have
analysed as coincidental.
The impression left on my own mind by the Census does pretty closely agree
with that of its authors. Fairly well persuaded of the possibility of
telepathy, on other grounds, and even inclined to believe that it does
produce coincidental hallucinations, the evidence of the Census, by
itself, would not convince me nor its authors. We want better records; we
want documentary evidence recording cases before the arrival of news of
the coincidence. Memories are very adaptive. The authors, however, made a
gallant effort, at the cost of much labour, and largely allowed for all
conceivable drawbacks.
I am, personally, illogical enough to agree with Kant, and to be more
convinced by the cumulative weight of the hundreds of cases in 'Phantasms
of the Living,' in other sources, in my own circle of acquaintance, and
even by the coincident traditions of European and savage peoples, than by
the statistics of the Census. The whole mass, Census and all, is of very
considerable weight, and there exist individual cases which one feels
unable to dispute. Thus while I would never regard the hallucinatory
figure of a friend, perceived by myself, as proof of his death, I
would entertain some slight anxiety till I heard of his well-being.
On this topic I will offer, in a Kantian spirit, an anecdote of the kind
which, occurring in great quantities, disposes the mind to a sort of
belief. It is not given as evidence to go to a jury, for I only received
it from the lips of a very gallant and distinguished officer and V.C.,
whose own part in the affair will be described.
This gentleman was in command of a small British force in one of the
remotest and least accessible of our dependencies, not connected by
telegraph, at the time of the incident, with the distant mainland. In the
force was a particularly folly young captain. One night he went to a
dance, and, as the sleeping accommodation was exhausted, he passed the
night, like a Homeric hero, on a couch beneath the echoing _loggia_. Next
day, contrary to his wont, he was in the worst of spirits, and, after
moping for some time, asked leave to go a three days' voyage to the
nearest telegraph station. His commanding officer, my informant, was
good-natured, and gave leave. At the end of a week Captain ---- returned,
in his usual high spirits. He now admitted that, while lying awake in the
verandah, after the ball, he had seen a favourite brother of his, then
in, say, Peru. He could not shake off the impression; he had made the long
voyage to the nearest telegraph station, and thence had telegraphed to
another brother in, let us say, Hong Kong, 'Is all well with John?' He
received a reply, 'All well by last mail,' and so returned, relieved in
mind, to his duties. But the next mail bringing letters from Peru brought
news of his Peruvian brother's death on the night of the vision in the
verandah.
This, of course, is not offered as evidence. For evidence we need
Captain ----'s account, his Hong Kong brother's account, date of the
dance, official date of the Peruvian brother's death, and so on. But the
character of my informant indisposes me to disbelief. The names of places
are intentionally changed, but the places were as remote from each other
as those given in the text.
We find ourselves able to understand the Master of Ravenswood's
cogitations after he saw the best wraith in fiction:
'She died expressing her eager desire to see me. Can it be, then--can
strong and earnest wishes, formed during the last agony of nature,
survive its catastrophe, surmount the awful bounds of the spiritual
world, and place before us its inhabitants in the hues and colouring of
life? And why was that manifested to the eye, which could not unfold its
tale to the ear?' ('Her withered lips moved fast, although no sound
issued from them.') 'And wherefore should a breach be made in the laws
of nature, yet its purpose remain unknown?'
The Master's reasonings are such as, in hearing similar anecdotes, must
have occurred to Scott. They no longer represent our views. The death and
apparition were coincidental almost to the minute: it would be impossible
to prove that life was utterly extinct, when Alice seemed to die, 'as the
clock in the distant village tolled one, just before' Ravenswood's
experience. We do not, like him, postulate 'a breach in the laws of
nature,' only a possible example of a law. The tale was not 'unfolded to
the ear,' as the telepathic impact only affected the sense of sight.
Here, perhaps, ought to follow a reply to certain scientific criticisms of
the theory that telepathy, or the action of one distant mind, or brain,
upon another, may be the cause of 'coincidental hallucinations,'
whether among savage or civilised races. But, not to delay the argument
by controversy, the Reply to Objections has been relegated to the
Appendix[18].
[Footnote 1: The lady, her husband, and the lawyer, all known to me, gave
me the story in writing; the servant's sister has been lost sight of.]
[Footnote 2: See three other cases in _Proceedings_, S.P.R., ii. 122, 123.
Two others are offered by Mr. Henry James and Mr. J. Neville Maskelyne of
the Egyptian Hall.]
[Footnote 3: See 'Phantasms of the Living' and 'A Theory of Apparitions,'
_Proceedings_, S.P.R., vol. ii., by Messrs. Gurney and Myers.]
[Footnote 4: _Studies in Psychical Research,_ p. 388.]
[Footnote 5: This, at least, scorns to myself a not illogical argument.
Mr. Leaf has argued on the other side, that 'Darwinism may have done
something for Totemism, by proving the existence of a great monkey
kinship. But Totemism can hardly be quoted as evidence for Darwinism.'
True, but Darwinism and Totemism are matters of opinion, not facts of
personal experience. To a believer in coincidental hallucinations, at
least, the alleged parallel experiences of savages must yield some
confirmation to his own. His belief, he thinks, is warranted by human
experience. On what does he suppose that the belief of the savage is
based? Do his experience and their belief coincide by pure chance?]
[Footnote 6: _Prim. Cult._ i. 449.]
[Footnote 7: Ibid. i. 450.]
[Footnote 8: _Prim. Cult._ vol. i. p. 450.]
[Footnote 9: From Shortland's _Traditions of New Zealand,_ p. 140.]
[Footnote 10: Gurney and Myers, 'Phantasms of the Living,' vol. ii.
ch. v. p. 557.]
[Footnote 11: _The 'Adventure' and 'Beagle,'_ iii. 181, cf. 204.]
[Footnote 12: It will, of course, be said that they worked their stories
into conformity.]
[Footnote 13: _Prim. Cult._ i. 116.]
[Footnote 14: Polack's _Manners of the New Zealanders_, i. 268.]
[Footnote 15: Howitt, op. cit. p. 186.]
[Footnote 16: On examining the cases, we find, in 1894, these dates of
reported occurrences, in twenty-eight cases: 1890, 1882, 1879, 1870, 1863,
1861, 1888, 1885, 1881, 1880, 1878, 1874, 1869, 1869, 1845, 1887, 1881,
1877, 1874, 1873, 1860 (?), 1864 (?), 1855, 1830 (?!), 1867, 1862, 1888,
1870.]
[Footnote 17: On this point see _Report_, p. 260. Fifty phantasms out of
the whole occurred during anxiety or presumable anxiety. Of these,
thirty-one coincided (within twelve hours) with the death of the person
apparently seen. In the remaining nineteen, the person seen recovered in
eight cases.]
[Footnote 18: Appendix A.]
VII
DEMONIACAL POSSESSION
There is a kind of hallucinations--namely, Phantasms of the Dead--about
which it seems better to say nothing in this place. If such phantasms are
seen by savages when awake, they will doubtless greatly corroborate that
belief in the endurance of the soul after death, which is undeniably
suggested to the early reasoner by the phenomena of dreaming. But, while
it is easy enough to produce evidence to recognised phantasms of the dead
in civilised life, it would be very difficult indeed to discover many good
examples in what we know about savages. Some Fijian instances are given by
Mr. Fison in his and Mr. Howitt's 'Kamilaroi and Kurnai,' Others occur in
the narrative of John Tanner, a captive from childhood among the Red
Indians. But the circumstance, already noted, that an Australian lad
became a wizard on the strength of having seen a phantasm of his dead
mother, proves that such experiences are not common; and Australian black
fellows have admitted that they, for their part, never did see a ghost,
but only heard of ghosts from their old men. Mr. David Leslie, previously
cited, gives some first-hand Zulu evidence about a haunted wood, where the
_Esemkofu_, or ghosts of persons killed by a tyrannical chief, were heard
and felt by his native informant; the percipient was also pelted with
stones, as by the European _Poltergeist_. The Zulu who dies commonly
becomes an Ihlozi, and receives his share of sacrifice. The _Esemkofu_ on
the other hand, are disturbed and haunting spirits[1].
As a rule, so far as our information goes, it is not recognised phantasms
of the dead, in waking vision, which corroborate the savage belief in the
persistence of the spirit of the departed. The savage reasoner rather
rests his faith on the alleged phenomena of noises and physical movements
of objects apparently untouched, which cause so many houses in civilised
society to be shut up, or shunned, as 'haunted.' Such disturbances the
savage naturally ascribes to 'spirits.' Our evidence, therefore, for
recognised phantasms of the savage dead is very meagre, so it is
unnecessary to examine the much more copious civilised evidence. The facts
attested may, of course, be theoretically explained as the result of
telepathy from a mind no longer incarnate; and, were the evidence as
copious as that for coincidental hallucinations of the living, or dying,
it would be of extreme importance. But it is not so copious, and, granting
even that it is accurate, various explanations not involving anything so
distasteful to science as the action of a discarnate intelligence may be,
and have been, put forward.
We turn, therefore, from a theme in which civilised testimony is more
bulky than that derived from savage life, to a topic in which savage
evidence is much more full than modern civilised records. This topic is
the so-called Demoniacal Possession.
In the philosophy of Animism, and in the belief of many peoples, savage
and civilised, spirits of the dead, or spirits at large, can take up their
homes in the bodies of living men. Such men, or women, are spoken of as
'inspired,' or 'possessed.' They speak in voices not their own, they act
in a manner alien to their natural character, they are said to utter
prophecies, and to display knowledge which they could not have normally
acquired, and, in fact, do not consciously possess, in their normal
condition. All these and similar phenomena the savage explains by the
hypothesis that an alien spirit--perhaps a demon, perhaps a ghost, or a
god--has taken possession of the patient. The possessed, being full of the
spirit, delivers sermons, oracles, prophecies, and what the Americans call
'inspirational addresses,' before he returns to his normal consciousness.
Though many such prophets are conscious impostors, others are sincere. Dr.
Mason mentions a prophet who became converted to Christianity. 'He could
not account for his former exercises, but said that it certainly appeared
to him as though a spirit spoke, and he must tell what it communicated.'
Dr. Mason also gives the following anecdote: