CHAPTER I SOME FACTS IN NATURE
IF I were asked what, in my opinion,
distinguishes the thought of the present day from that of a
previous generation, I should feel inclined to say, it is the fact
that people are beginning to realize that Thought is a power in
itself, one of the great forces of the Universe, and ultimately the
greatest of forces, directing all the others. This idea seems to
be, as the French say, "in the air," and this very well expresses
the state of the case--the idea is rapidly spreading through many
countries and through all classes, but it is still very much "in
the air." It is to a great extent as yet only in a gaseous
condition, vague and nebulous, and to not leading to the practical
results, both individual and collective, which might be expected of
it, if it were consolidated into a more workable form. We are like
some amateurs who want to paint finished pictures before they have
studied the elements of Art, and when they see an artist do without
difficulty what they vainly attempt, they look upon him as a being
specially favoured by Providence, instead of putting it down to
their own want of knowledge. The idea is true. Thought is the great
power of the Universe. But to make it practically available we must
know something of the principles by which it works--that it is not
a mere vaporous indefinable influence floating around and subject
to no known laws, but that on the contrary, it follows laws as
uncompromising as those of mathematics, while at the same time
allowing unlimited freedom to the individual.
Now the purpose of the following pages, is to suggest to the
reader the lines on which to find his way out of this nebulous sort
of thought into something more solid and reliable. I do not
profess, like a certain Negro preacher, to "unscrew the
inscrutable," for we can never reach a point where we shall not
find the inscrutable still ahead of us; but if I an indicate the
use of a screw-driver instead of a hatchet, and that the screws
should be turned from left to right, instead of from right to left,
it may enable us to unscrew some things which would otherwise
remain screwed down tight. We are all beginners, and indeed the
hopefulness of life is in realizing that there are such vistas of
unending possibilities before us, that however far we may advance,
we shall always be on the threshold of something greater. We must
be like Peter Pan, the boy who never grew up--heaven defend me from
ever feeling quite grown up, for then I should come to a
standstill; so the reader must take what I have to say simply as
the talk of one boy to another in the Great School, and not expect
too much.
The first question then is, where to begin. Descartes
commenced his book with the words "Cogito, ergo sum." "I think,
therefore I am," and we cannot do better than follow his example.
There are two things about which we cannot have any doubt--our own
existence, and that of the world around us. But what is it in us
that is aware of these two things, that hopes and fears and plans
regarding them? Certainly not our flesh and bones.
A man whose leg has been amputated is able to think just the
same. Therefore it is obvious that there is something in us which
receives impressions and forms ideas, that reasons upon facts and
determines upon courses of action and carries them out, which is
not the physical body. This is the real "I Myself." This is the
Person we are really concerned with; and it is the betterment of
this "I Myself" that makes it worth while to enquire what our
Thought has to do in the matter.
Equally true it is on the other hand that the forces of
Nature around us do not think. Steam, electricity, gravitation, and
chemical affinity do not think. They follow certain fixed laws
which we have no power to alter. Therefore we are confronted at the
outset by a broad distinction between two modes of Motion--the
Movement of Thought and the Movement of Cosmic Energy--the one
based upon the exercise of Consciousness and Will, and the other
based upon Mathematical Sequence. This is why that system of
instruction known as Free Masonry starts by erecting the two
symbolic pillars Jachin and Boaz--Jachin so called from the root
"Yak" meaning "One," indicating the Mathematical element of Law;
and Boaz, from the root "Awáz" meaning "Voice" indicating Personal
element of Free Will. These names are taken from the description in
I Kings vii, 21 and II Chron. iii, 17 of the building of Solomon's
Temple, where these two pillars stood before the entrance, the
meaning being that the Temple of Truth can only be entered by
passing between them, that is, by giving each of these factors
their due relation to the other, and by realizing that they are the
two Pillars of the Universe, and that no real progress can be made
except by finding the true balance between them. Law and
Personality--these are the two great principles with which we have
to deal, and the problem is to square the one with the other.
Let me start, then, by considering some well established
facts in the physical world which show how the known Law acts under
certain known conditions, and this will lead us on in an
intelligible manner to see how the same Law is likely to work under
as yet unknown conditions. If we had to deal with unknown laws as
well as unknown conditions we should, indeed, be up a gum tree.
Fancy a mathematician having to solve an equation, both sides of
which were entirely made up of unknown quantities--where would he
be? Happily this is not the case. The Law is ONE throughout, and
the apparent variety of its working results from the infinite
variety of the conditions under which it may work. Let us lay a
foundation, then, by seeing how it works in what we call the common
course of Nature. A few examples will suffice.
Hardly more than a generation ago it was supposed that the
analysis of matter could not be carried further than its reduction
to some seventy primary chemical elements, which in various
combinations produced all material substances; but there was no
explanation how all these different elements came into existence.
Each appeared to be an original creation, and there was no
accounting for them. But now-a-days, as the rustic physician says
in Molière's play of the "Médecin Malgré Lui," "nous avons changé
tout cela." Modern science has shown conclusively that every kind
of chemical atom is composed of particles of one original substance
which appears to pervade all space, and to which the name of Ether
has been given. Some of these particles carry a positive charge of
electricity and some a negative, and the chemical atom is formed by
the grouping of a certain number of negatively charged particles
round a centre composed of positive electricity around which they
revolve; and it is the number of these particles and the rate of
their motion that determines the nature of the atom, whether, for
instance, it will be an atom of iron or an atom of hydrogen, and
thus we are brought back to Plato's old aphorism that the Universe
consists of Number and Motion.
The size of these etheric particles is small beyond anything
but abstract mathematical conception. Sir Oliver Lodge is reported
to have made the following comparison in a lecture delivered at
Birmingham. "The chemical atom," he said, "is as small in
comparison to a drop of water as a cricket-ball is compared to the
globe of the earth; and yet this atom is as large in comparison to
one of its constituent particles as Birmingham town-hall is to a
pin's head." Again, it has been said that in proportion to the size
of the particles the distance at which they revolve round the
centre of the atom is as great as the distance from the earth to
the sun. I must leave the realization of such infinite minuteness
to the reader's imagination--it is beyond mine.
Modern science thus shows us all material substance, whether
that of inanimate matter or that of our own bodies, as proceeding
out of one primary etheric substance occupying all space and
homogeneous, that is being of a uniform substance--and having no
qualities to distinguish one part from another. Now this conclusion
of science is important because it is precisely the fact that out
of this homogeneous substance particles are produced which differ
from the original substance in that they possess positive and
negative energy and of these particles the atom is built up. So
then comes the question: What started this differentiation?
The electronic theory which I have just mentioned takes us as
far as a universal homogeneous ether as the source from which all
matter is evolved, but it does not account for how motion
originated in it; but perhaps another closely allied scientific
theory will help us. Let us, then, turn to the question of
Vibrations or Waves in Ether. In scientific language the length of
a wave is the distance from the crest of one wave to that of the
wave immediately following it. Now modern science recognizes a long
series of waves in ether, commencing with the smallest yet known
measuring 0.1 micron, or about 1/254,000 of an inch, in length,
measured by Professor Schumann in 1893, and extending to waves of
many miles in length used in wireless telegraphy--for instance
those employed between Clifden in Galway and Glace Bay in Nova
Scotia are estimated to have a length of nearly four miles. These
infinitesimally small ultra-violet or actinic waves, as they are
called, are the principal agents in photography, and the great
waves of wireless telegraphy are able to carry a force across the
Atlantic which can sensibly affect the apparatus on the other side;
therefore we see that the ether of space affords a medium through
which energy can be transmitted by means of vibrations.
But what starts the vibrations? Hertz announced his discovery
of the electro-magnetic waves, now known by his name, in 1888; but,
following up the labours of various other investigators, Lodge,
Marconi and others finally developed their practical application
after Hertz's death which occurred in 1894. To Hertz, however,
belongs the honour of discovering how to generate these waves by
means of sudden, sharply defined, electrical discharges.
The principle may be illustrated by dropping a stone in
smooth water. The sudden impact sets up a series of ripples all
round the centre of disturbance, and the electrical impulse acts
similarly in the ether. Indeed the fact that the waves flow in all
directions from the central impulse is one of the difficulties of
wireless telegraphy, because the message may be picked up in any
direction by a receiver tuned to the same rate of vibration, and
the interest for us consists in the hypothesis that thought-waves
act in an analogous manner.
That vibrations are excited by sound is beautifully
exemplified by the eidophone, an instrument invented, I believe, by
Mrs. Watts-Hughes, and with which I have seen that lady experiment.
Dry sand is scattered on a diaphragm on which the eidophone
concentrates the vibrations from music played near it. The sand, as
it were dances in time to the music, and when the music stops is
found to settle into definite forms, sometimes like a tree or a
flower, or else some geometrical figure, but never a confused
jumble. Perhaps in this we may find the origin of the legends
regarding the creative power of Orpheus' lyre, and also the sacred
dances of the ancients--who knows!
Perhaps some critical reader may object that sound travels by
means of atmospheric and not -etheric waves; but is he prepared to
say that it cannot produce etheric waves also. The very recent
discovery of transatlantic telephoning tends to show that etheric
waves can be generated by sound, for on the 10th of October, 1915,
words spoken in New York were immediately heard in Paris, and could
therefore only have been transmitted through the ether, for sound
travels through the atmosphere only at the rate of about 750 miles
an hour, while the speed of impulses through ether can only be
compared to that of light or 186,000 miles in a second. It is
therefore a fair inference that etheric vibrations can be
inaugurated by sound.
Perhaps the reader may feel inclined to say with the Irishman
that all this is "as dry as ditch-water," but he will see before
long that it has a good deal to do with ourselves. For the present
what I want him to realize by a few examples is the mathematical
accuracy of Law. The value of these examples lies in their
illustration of the fact that the Law can always be trusted to lead
us on to further knowledge. We see it working under known
conditions, and relying on its unchangeableness, we can then
logically infer what it will do under other hypothetical
conditions, and in this way many important discoveries have been
made. For instance it was in this way that Mendeléef, the Russian
chemist, assumed the existence of three then unknown chemical
elements, now called Scandium, Gallium and Germanium. There was a
gap in the orderly sequence of the chemical elements, and relying
on the old maxim--"Natura nihil facit per saltum"--Nature nowhere
leaves a gap to jump over--he argued that if such elements did not
exist they ought to, and so he calculated what these elements ought
to be like, giving their atomic weight, chemical affinities, and
the like; and when they were discovered many years later they were
found to answer exactly to his description. He prophesied, not by
guesswork, but by knowledge of the Law; and in much the same way
radium was discovered by Professor and Madame Curie. In like manner
Hertz was led to the discovery of the electro-magnetic waves. The
celebrated mathematician Clerk-Maxwell had calculated all
particulars of these waves twenty-five years before Hertz, on the
basis of these calculations, worked out his discovery. Again,
Neptune, the outermost known planet of our system was discovered by
the astronomer Galle in consequence of calculations made by
Leverrier. Certain variations in the movements of the planets were
mathematically unaccountable except on the hypothesis that some
more remote planet existed. Astronomers had faith in mathematics
and the hypothetical planet was found to be a reality. Instances of
this kind might be multiplied, but as the French say "à quoi bon?"
I think these will be sufficient to convince the reader that the
invariable sequence of Law is a factor to be relied upon, and that
by studying its working under known conditions we may get at least
some measure of light on conditions which are as yet unknown to us.
Let us now pass on to the human subject and consider a few
examples of what is usually called the psychic side of our nature.
Walt Whitman was quite right when he said that we are not all
included between our hat and our boots; we shall find that our
modes of consciousness and powers of action are not entirely
restricted to our physical body. The importance of this line of
enquiry lies in the fact that if we do possess extra-physical
powers, these also form part of our personality and must be
included in our estimate of our relation to our environment, and it
is therefore worth our while to consider them.
Some very interesting experiments have been made by De
Rochas, an eminent French scientist, which go to show that under
certain magnetic conditions the sensation of physical touch can be
experienced at some distance from the body. He found that under
these conditions the person experimented on is insensible to the
prick of a needle run into his skin, but if the prick is made about
an inch-and-a-half away from the surface of the skin he feels it.
Again at about three inches from this point he feels the prick of
the needle, but is insensible to it in the space between these two
points. Then there comes another interval in which no sensation is
conveyed, but at about three inches still further away he again
feels the sensation, and so on; so that he appears to be surrounded
by successive zones of sensation, the first about an
inch-and-a-half from the body, and the others at intervals of about
three inches each.
The number of these zones seems to vary in different cases,
but in some there are as many as six or seven, thus giving a radius
of sensation, extending to more than twenty inches beyond the body.
Now to explain this we must have recourse to what I have
already said about waves. The heart and the lungs are the two
centres of automatic rhythmic movement in the body, and each
projects its own series of vibrations into the etheric envelope.
Those projected by the lungs are estimated to be three times the
length of those projected by the heart, while those projected by
the heart are three times as rapid as those projected by the lungs.
Consequently if the two sets of waves start together the crest of
every third wave of the rapid series of short waves will coincide
with the crest of one of the long waves of the slower series, while
the intermediate short waves will coincide with the depression of
one of the long waves. Now the effect of the crest of one wave
overtaking that of another going in the same direction, is to raise
the two together at that point into a single wave of greater
amplitude or height than the original waves had by themselves; if
the reader has the opportunity of studying the inflowing of waves
on the seabeach he can verify this for himself. Consequently when
the more rapid etheric waves overtake the slower ones they combine
to form a larger wave, and it is at these points that the zones of
sensation occur. If the reader will draw a diagram of two waved
lines travelling along the same horizontal line and so proportioned
that the crest of each of the large waves coincides with the crest
of every third wave of the small ones, he will see what I mean: and
if he then recollects that the fall in the larger waves neutralizes
the rise in the smaller ones, and that because this double series
starts from the interior of the body the surface of the body comes
just at one of these neutralized points, he will see why sensation
is neutralized there; and he will also see why the succeeding zones
of sensation are double the distance from each other that the first
one is from the surface of the body; it is simply because the
surface of the body cuts the first long wave exactly in the middle,
and therefore only half that wave occurs outside the body. This is
the explanation given by De Rochas, and it affords another example
of that principle of mathematical sequence of which I have spoken.
It would appear that under normal conditions the double series of
vibrations is spread all over the body, and so all parts are alike
sensitive to touch.
I think, then, we may assume on the basis of De Rochas'
experiments and others that there are such things as etheric
vibrations proceeding from human personality, and in the next
chapter I will give some examples showing that the psychic
personality extends still further than these experiments, taken by
themselves, would indicate--in fact that we possess an additional
range of faculties far exceeding those which we ordinarily exercise
through the physical body, and which must therefore be included in
our conception of ourselves if we are to have an adequate idea of
what we really are.
CHAPTER II SOME PSYCHIC EXPERIENCES
THE preceding chapter has introduced the reader
to the general subject of etheric vibration as one of the natural
forces of the Universe, both as the foundation of all matter and as
the medium for the transmission of energy to immense distances, and
also as something continually emanating from human beings. In the
present chapter I shall consider it more particularly in this last
aspect, which, as included in our own personality, very immediately
concerns ourselves. I will commence with an instance of the
practical application of this fact. Some years ago I was lunching
at the house of Lady ------ in company of a well-known mental
healer whom I will call Mr. Y. and a well-known London physician
whom I will call Dr. W. Mr. Y. mentioned the case of a lady whose
leg had been amputated above the knee some years previously to her
coming under his care, yet she frequently felt pains in the
(amputated) knee and lower part of the left leg and foot. Dr. W.
said this was to be attributed to the nerves which convey to the
brain the sensation of the extremities, much as a telegraph line
might be tapped in the middle, and Mr. Y. agreed that this was
perfectly true on the purely physical side. But he went on to say,
that accidentally putting his hand where the amputated foot should
have been he felt it there. Then it occurred to him that since
there was no material foot to be touched, it must be through the
medium of his own psychic body that the sensation of touch was
conveyed to him, and accordingly he asked the lady to imagine that
she was making various movements with the amputated limb, all of
which he felt, and was able to tell her what each movement was,
which she said he did correctly. Then, to carry the experiment
further, he re, versed the process and with his hand moved the
invisible leg and foot in various ways, all of which the lady felt
and described. He then determined to treat the invisible leg as
though it were a real one, and joined up the circuit by taking her
left foot in his right hand and her right foot (the amputated one)
in his left, with the result that she immediately felt relief; and
after successive treatments in this way was entirely cured.
A well authenticated case like this opens up a good many
interesting questions regarding the Psychic Body, but the most
important point appears to me to be that we are able to experience
sensation by means of it. In this case, however, and those
mentioned in the preceding chapter, the physical body was actually
present, and if we stopped at this point, we might question whether
its presence was not a sine qua non for the action of the etheric
vibrations. I will therefore pass on to a class of examples which
show that very curious phenomena can take place without the
physical body being on the spot. There are numerous well verified
cases of the kind to be found in the records of the Society for
Psychical Research and in other books by trustworthy writers; but
it may perhaps interest the present reader to hear one or two
instances of my personal experience which, though they may not be
so striking as some of those recorded by others, still point in the
same direction.
My first introduction to Scotland was when I delivered the
course of lectures in Edinburgh which led to the publication of my
first book, the "Edinburgh Lectures on Mental Science." The
following years I gave a second course of lectures in Edinburgh,
but the friends who had kindly entertained me on the former
occasion had in the meanwhile gone to live elsewhere. However, a
certain Mr. S., whose acquaintance I had made on my previous visit,
invited me to stay with him for a day or two while I could look
round for other accommodation, though, as it turned out, I remained
at his house during the whole month I was in Edinburgh. I had,
however, never seen his house, which was on the opposite side of
the town to where I had stayed before. I arrived there on a
Tuesday, and Mr. S. and his family at once met me with the
question:
"What were you thinking of at ten o'clock on Sunday evening?"
I could not immediately recall this, and also wanted to know
the reason of their question.
"We have something curious to tell you," they replied, "but
first try to remember what you were thinking of at ten o'clock on
Sunday evening--were you thinking about us?"
Then I recollected that about that time I was saying my usual
prayers before going to bed and had asked that, if I could stay
only a day or two with Mr. S., I should be directed to a suitable
place for the remainder of the time.