CHAPTER II.

SOME MODERN INSTANCES.

Even in this incredulous age, and amidst the full whirl of our

nineteenth-century civilization, in spite of the dogmatism of our

science and the deadly dullness of our protestantism, instances of

intervention inexplicable from the materialistic standpoint may still

be found by any one who will take the trouble to look for them; and in

order to demonstrate this to the reader I will briefly epitomize a few

of the examples given in one or other of the recent collections of such

stories, adding thereto one or two that have come within my own notice.

One very remarkable feature of these more recent examples is that the

intervention seems nearly always to have been directed towards the

helping or saving of children.

An interesting case which occurred in London only a few years ago was

connected with the preservation of a child’s life in the midst of a

terrible fire, which broke out in a street near Holborn, and entirely

destroyed two of the houses there. The flames had obtained such hold

before they were discovered that the firemen were unable to save the

houses, but they succeeded in rescuing all the inmates except two--an

old woman who was suffocated by the smoke before they could reach her,

and a child about five years old, whose presence in the house had been

forgotten in the hurry and excitement of the moment.

The mother of the child, it seems, was a friend or relative of the

landlady of the house, and had left the little creature in her charge

for the night, because she was herself obliged to go down to Colchester

on business. It was not until everyone else had been rescued, and the

whole house was wrapped in flame, that the landlady remembered with

a terrible pang the trust that had been confided to her. It seemed

hopeless then to attempt to get at the garret where the child had been

put to bed, but one of the firemen heroically resolved to make the

desperate effort, and, after receiving minute directions as to the

exact situation of the room, plunged in among the smoke and flame.

He found the child, and brought him forth entirely unharmed; but when

he rejoined his comrades he had a very singular story to tell. He

declared that when he reached the room he found it in flames, and most

of the floor already fallen; but the fire had curved round the room

towards the window in an unnatural and unaccountable manner, the like

of which in all his experience he had never seen before, so that the

corner in which the child lay was wholly untouched, although the very

rafters of the fragment of floor on which his little crib stood were

half burnt away. The child was naturally very much terrified, but the

fireman distinctly and repeatedly declared that as at great risk he

made his way towards him he saw a form like an angel--here his exact

words are given--a something “all gloriously white and silvery, bending

over the bed and smoothing down the counterpane.” He could not possibly

have been mistaken about it, he said, for it was visible in a glare of

light for some moments, and in fact disappeared only when he was within

a few feet of it.

Another curious feature of this story is that the child’s mother

found herself unable to sleep that night down at Colchester, but was

constantly harrassed by a strong feeling that something was wrong with

her child, insomuch that at last she was compelled to rise and spend

some time in earnest prayer that the little one might be protected from

the danger which she instinctively felt to be hanging over him. The

intervention was thus evidently what a Christian would call an answer

to prayer; a Theosophist, putting the same idea in more scientific

phraseology, would say that her intense outpouring of love constituted

a force which one of our invisible helpers was able to use for the

rescue of her child from a terrible death.

A remarkable case in which children were abnormally protected occurred

on the banks of the Thames near Maidenhead a few years earlier than our

last example. This time the danger from which they were saved arose not

from fire but from water. Three little ones, who lived, if I recollect

rightly, in or near the village of Shottesbrook, were taken out for a

walk along the towing-path by their nurse. They rushed suddenly round a

corner upon a horse which was drawing a barge, and in the confusion two

of them got on the wrong side of the tow-rope and were thrown into the

water.

The boatman, who saw the accident, sprang forward to try to save them,

and he noticed that they were floating high in the water “in quite an

unnatural way, like,” as he said, and moving quietly towards the bank.

This was all that he and the nurse saw, but the children each declared

that “a beautiful person, all white and shining,” stood beside them in

the water, held them up and guided them to the shore. Nor was their

story without corroboration, for the bargeman’s little daughter, who

ran up from the cabin when she heard the screams of the nurse, also

affirmed that she saw a lovely lady in the water dragging the two

children to the bank.

Without fuller particulars than the story gives us, it is impossible to

say with certainty from what class of helpers this “angel” was drawn;

but the probabilities are in favour of its having been a developed

human being functioning in the astral body, as will be seen when later

on we deal with this subject from the other side, as it were--from the

point of view of the helpers rather than the helped.

A case in which the agency is somewhat more definitely distinguishable

is related by the well-known clergyman, Dr. John Mason Neale. He

states that a man who had recently lost his wife was on a visit with

his little children at the country house of a friend. It was an old,

rambling mansion, and in the lower part of it there were long, dark

passages, in which the children played about with great delight. But

presently they came upstairs very gravely, and two of them related

that as they were running down one of these passages they were met by

their mother, who told them to go back again, and then disappeared.

Investigation revealed the fact that if the children had run but a few

steps farther they would have fallen down a deep uncovered well which

yawned full in their path, so that the apparition of their mother had

saved them from almost certain death.

In this instance there seems no reason to doubt that the mother herself

was still keeping a loving watch over her children from the astral

plane, and that (as has happened in some other cases) her intense

desire to warn them of the danger into which they were so heedlessly

rushing gave her the power to make herself visible and audible to them

for the moment--or perhaps merely to impress their minds with the

idea that they saw and heard her. It is possible, of course, that the

helper may have been some one else, who took the familiar form of the

mother in order not to alarm the children; but the simplest hypothesis

is to attribute the intervention to the action of the ever-wakeful

mother-love itself, undimmed by the passage through the gates of death.

This mother-love, being one of the holiest and most unselfish of human

feelings, is also one of the most persistent on higher planes. Not only

does the mother who finds herself upon the lower levels of the astral

plane, and consequently still within touch of the earth, maintain her

interest in and her care for her children as long as she is able to see

them; even after her entry into the heaven-world these little ones are

still the most prominent objects in her thought, and the wealth of love

that she lavishes upon the images which she there makes of them is a

great outpouring of spiritual force which flows down upon her offspring

who are still struggling in this lower world, and surrounds them with

living centres of beneficent energy which may not inaptly be described

as veritable guardian angels. An illustration of this will be found in

the sixth of our Theosophical manuals, p. 38.

Not long ago the little daughter of one of our English bishops was out

walking with her mother in the town where they lived, and in running

heedlessly across a street the child was knocked down by the horses of

a carriage which came quickly upon her round a corner. Seeing her among

the horses’ feet, the mother rushed forward, expecting to find her very

badly injured, but she sprang up quite merrily, saying, “Oh, mamma, I

am not at all hurt, for something all in white kept the horses from

treading upon me, and told me not to be afraid.”

A case which occurred in Buckinghamshire, somewhere in the

neighbourhood of Burnham Beeches, is remarkable on account of the

length of time through which the physical manifestation of the

succouring agency seems to have maintained itself. It will have been

seen that in the instances hitherto given the intervention was a matter

of but a few moments, whereas in this a phenomenon was produced which

appears to have persisted for more than half an hour.

Two of the little children of a small farmer were left to amuse

themselves while their parents and their entire household were engaged

in the work of harvesting. The little ones started for a walk in the

woods, wandered far from home, and then managed to lose their way. When

the weary parents returned at dusk it was discovered that the children

were missing, and after enquiring at some of the neighbours’ houses the

father sent servants and labourers in various directions to seek for

them.

Their efforts were, however, unsuccessful, and their shouts unanswered;

and they had reassembled at the farm in a somewhat despondent frame

of mind, when they all saw a curious light some distance away moving

slowly across some fields towards the road. It was described as a large

globular mass of rich golden glow, quite unlike ordinary lamplight;

and as it drew nearer it was seen that the two missing children were

walking steadily along in the midst of it. The father and some others

immediately set off running towards it; the appearance persisted

until they were close to it, but just as they grasped the children it

vanished, leaving them in the darkness.

The children’s story was that after night came on they had wandered

about crying in the woods for some time, and had at last lain down

under a tree to sleep. They had been roused, they said, by a beautiful

lady with a lamp, who took them by the hand and led them home; when

they questioned her she smiled at them, but never spoke a word. To this

strange tale they both steadily adhered, nor was it possible in any way

to shake their faith in what they had seen. It is noteworthy, however,

that though all present saw the light, and noticed that it lit up the

trees and hedges which came within its sphere precisely as an ordinary

light would, yet the form of the lady was visible to none but the

children.

Invisible helpers · 第 2 / 17 章