Legend
Spiritualism in Marylebone
On Tuesday evening, last week, Miss Kislingbury read a paper before the Marylebone Association of Inquirers into Spiritualism at 25, Great Quebec-street, London. Mr. Chas. White was in the chair. The meeting was attended by several members of the Association; there were also present Mr. Gr. R. Tapp, Mr. A. Vacher, the Rev. W. W. Newbould, Mrs. Gordon, Dr. C. Carter Blake, and other well-known Spiritualists.
Miss Kislingbury read the following paper on “Spiritualism: its Moral Benefits and Dangers:”—
It has been frequently remarked with regard to modern Spiritualism that, if it be true, it is of the utmost importance that men should believe and know it; if false, it is of equal importance that its falsity be exposed to the full.
With the latter proposition we shall all most unreservedly agree; the first requires some modification, I think, before we can give to it our unqualified assent.
“All things are lawful unto me, but all things are not expedient,” expresses, perhaps, in a few words, the conclusion at which we shall arrive when we have examined the subject a little more closely in the aspect which I venture to bring before you this evening. Speaking, as I believe to be the case, to an audience composed chiefly of Spiritualists, it is my intention not to dwell much, as has been so often and so well done before, on the benefits which Spiritualism brings—for that may be regarded almost as a work of supererogation in the presence of a body of believers and adherents—but to point out some of the dangers which the too eager student is likely to meet with in his pursuit of the marvellous, and to indicate some of the pitfalls which even the more wary and experienced have not been always fortunate in avoiding.
Some of these dangers are inherent in the nature of the subject, and may be called actual; others proceed from the disposition or temperament of the inquirer, and may be classed as accidental; others, again, attend more particularly on the practice of mediumship, and may be considered special: each kind of mediumship having its own particular evil or danger.
In the exercise of my function of replying to inquirers, I have made a great point of warning fresh hands against likely shoals and quick-sands, according to my judgment of their knowledge and character (often, of course, formed cursorily from the imperfect observations made on short acquaintance), because I have found it better to go slowly and cautiously to work, than to rush unprepared into a subject and into the presence of influences of whose potency the novice can form no idea; and I have not found that by so doing I have deterred any from inquiry; on the contrary, my action has rather inspired them with respect for the reasonableness of facts which will bear to be deliberately faced and calmly investigated. Not to deal too much in generalities, I will now define some of these dangers, or difficulties, as you may prefer to regard them, and ask you whether or not you agree with me as to their existence and importance.
In the first joy of discovery of a new world, everything is apt to appear in glowing colours. The country is an “El Dorado,” and all that glitters is taken for gold. The emotions are excited, imagination is aroused, exaggerated descriptions are given, and belief is strained to the utmost. This state of things is peculiarly dangerous in Spiritualism, both on account of the delusive nature of some of the appearances, and of the class of interests involved. For what is it that many of us come seeking in these phenomena, so unattractive in themselves, so strange and weird in their presentment, so elusive and will-o’-the-wisp-like in their proceeding? Do we not approach them with a dim, far-off hope that they will furnish us with some proof of a hereafter, and restore our shattered belief in man’s immortality? And as soon as we get a clue to that proof, how anxiously we follow it up, through endless mazes, baffled at every turn; but so long as we hold the clue, i.e., so long as the manifestation of intelligent force continues, how unwilling are we to relinquish the hope that the proof will be given, indubitable, undeniable! And this very eagerness of hope it is which is a snare. When the very name we desire, though we were not thinking of it at the moment, is rapped out at a first sitting, with a medium who has never seen us before, and knows nothing of our life, history, or surroundings; when the pencil, guided by some influence which affects us with a sensation unknown before, traces the very words which the signature reminds us were spoken by that beloved one’s voice when we met for the last time; when the actual features are presented, and indicate by signs or well-remembered gestures that they are indeed those of a long-lost relative or friend, then we can doubt no longer. We have the proof at last; the dead live still; they return to the old earthly scenes; Spiritualism is true; the Churches are all wrong; all our early lessons must be unlearned, and life begun anew! Then follows a crusade against existing creeds and worship: Christianity is assailed, a new code of morals is enacted, and propagandism of the new faith absorbs for a time all the energy, time, and means of the believer.
This first danger may be considered both actual and accidental: actual, as being inherent in the nature of the phenomena, which are in many cases deceptive and difficult of observation; accidental, as proceeding from the disposition and temperament of the inquirer, and varying in degree according to his mental status and physical constitution. And if this be true of what are known as the physical phenomena of Spiritualism, I think it is often more true and more dangerous in regard to the mental stages, viz., trance-speaking and written communications. This is because, appealing to the mind often on subjects about which we have no information and no settled convictions, or on those which affect our personal happiness or weaknesses, they enlist first the imagination, and finally lead captive the judgment. I have seen persons who would take no advice from earthly friends, however skilled or well qualified to judge in a particular case, take counsel with spirits, and follow their behests, however foolish. In some lamentable cases this has been carried to the point of unhinging the judgment, and of plunging the believer into deep seas of trouble; yet, after this, the practice has been continued with the same ardour, and the advice followed with the same implicit obedience. Yet these same persons fight against every sort of authority which has been previously instituted in the cause of order, morality, and religion.
And now, after all, what are the foundations on which this inflated, balloon-like superstructure of belief is reared? Answer: The dicta of spirits. What spirits? Those who communicate through writing or trance mediums. But do these all agree? By no means; they all have their opinions, just as we have here. Then what is your test for truth? “My own opinion; I do not believe blindly what spirits tell me, any more than mortals.” So it comes to this—that each person communicating with spirits in another life, receives not what that spirit from his superior standpoint might be supposed to know better than himself, but just as much as will square with his preconceived notions derived from some other source, and resting on some other authority. The special dangers of mediumship are many. The chief among them I hold to be the facilities given to spirits of a low order to take possession of the medium, while at the same time we are as yet without much knowledge of the means for relieving the medium of undesirable controls. The practice of mediumship means opening the door to evil as well as good spirits to come in and dwell with us. We have all learned by experience that it is dangerous for an undeveloped medium to sit at mixed circles until his own “controls” are well established; nevertheless, some of the worst cases of obsession and of visitings from tricksy or lying spirits occur to persons sitting alone. It would be well, I think, if this part of the subject were to be more studied. In olden times we read that incantations and certain exorcist formulae were used for keeping away evil spirits. As a general rule we know that like attracts like, and that the spirits frequenting certain circles will be more or less on a level with those of whom the circles are composed. Nevertheless, I have known pure, well-intentioned mediums, and whole families annoyed and seriously troubled by most unwelcome visitants. Even the all-powerful aids of earnest prayer and a holy life seemed to be not entirely efficacious in keeping off the intruders. In the life of the Cure d’Ars, a French priest of eminent saintliness, it is related that the good man’s sleep, of which he allowed himself extremely little, was disturbed by his bed being drawn about and objects thrown all over the room in the night; once the room was set on fire, apparently from unearthly causes.
The following anecdote is related of Pascal:—In the year 1654 he had an escape from a frightful death. He was in a coach-and-four with some friends, and in crossing the Seine over a bridge, part of the parapet of which was thrown down, the leaders took fright and leaped into the water; their weight as they fell happily broke the traces and left the carriage free. But Pascal’s nervous system received a shock which it seems never to have recovered, and he was haunted by the thought that on the left side of him—that on which the danger threatened on this occasion—there yawned a deep chasm; nor could he, it is said, sit at ease unless fortified on that side by the sensation of some solid obstacle, though, strange to say, an empty chair would answer the purpose.
But this empty chair contained, as all who read l’Amulette de Pascal would admit, a true and living spiritual presence. This we might call Pascal’s demon, or attendant spirit, who seems to have employed this artifice in order to convince Pascal that some force, at any rate, existed outside his own mind. If Pascal had not seen this empty chair; if he had not filled it with a supernatural entity, which may have in part proceeded from his own mind, his astute mathematical intellect might have led him to the conviction that his own body was the solitary being whose existence he could have proved to his own senses and reason. And this constant presence also led him constantly to remember that the time had once occurred in his life when he was face to face with the insoluble, and that its recurrence was the one certain and real thing in our life-history. Nevertheless, we may question whether such a haunting presence was not altogether abnormal, and one which Pascal would have gladly dispensed with had he known how to set to work.
It seems to me that, with all our study and modern experience, we have not yet arrived at a knowledge of the means of controlling the lowest of the forces we are dealing with. Theosophy claims that this control can be effected by will-power; if this should be found effectual, then theosophy will have proved itself indeed an invaluable aid to Spiritualism. And it will at the same time teach another lesson, which is that only persons of certain temperaments and constitution are fitted to investigate these matters, and that they should be by no means universally or indiscriminately entered into. And if it is necessary to heed this warning here in England, where caution is, on the whole, a national characteristic, we feel it to be doubly so when we look to the consequences of its neglect in America. Though we are indebted to that country for some of the best mediums, yet we have only to glance at the pages of its spiritualistic journals to see the frequency of fraud, and of terrible consequences resulting from following the suggestions made by spirits. This is partly owing, I believe, to the greater trustfulness of the American character, and partly, as I have often said before, to the want of organisation of the Spiritualist movement in that country.
That Spiritualism may, however, be practised to advantage, if pursued with caution, and in a religious spirit, I conscientiously believe, and in support of my statement I have great pleasure in quoting from a paper published in the July number of the Psychological Review.*
“We may even live to see the time when arguing upwards, according to the strict scientific method, from acknowledged facts and self-evident truths, the philosopher may arrive at conclusions identical with those <... continues on page 7-215 >
* See The Abate of San Gandolfo, pp. 136—138.
Editor's notes
- ↑ Spiritualism in Marylebone by unknown author, London Spiritualist, No. 310, August 2, 1878, pp. 57-8
Sources
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London Spiritualist, No. 310, August 2, 1878, pp. 57-8