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RAYMOND
Or
LIFE AND DEATH
Raymond, or Life & Death
Modern Issues
The Essence of Faith,
Partnered with Science
Humans and the Universe
Human Survival
Reason and Faith
The War and Aftermath
RAYMOND
Either
Life and Death
WITH EXAMPLES OF EVIDENCE
FOR MEMORY AND AFFECTION'S SURVIVAL
AFTER DEATH
BY
Sir Oliver J. Lodge
WITH 18 ILLUSTRATIONS
NEW YORK
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
COPYRIGHT, 1916,
BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
COPYRIGHT, 1916,
BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
TO
HIS MOTHER AND FAMILY
WITH GRATITUDE FOR PERMISSION
TO USE PRIVATE MATERIAL
FOR PUBLIC ENDS
TO
HIS MOM AND FAMILY
WITH THANKS FOR ALLOWING
THE USE OF PERSONAL MATERIAL
FOR PUBLIC PURPOSES
"Divine must be
"Divine has to be"
That triumph, when the very worst, the pain,
That victory, when the absolute worst, the pain,
And even the prospect of our brethren slain,
And even the thought of our brothers killed,
Hath something in it which the heart enjoys."
Has something in it that the heart enjoys."
Wordsworth, Sonnet XXVI.
Wordsworth, Sonnet XXVI.
PREFACE
THIS book is named after my son who was killed in the War.
THIS book is named after my son who was killed in the war.
It is divided into three parts. In the first part some idea of the kind of life lived and the spirit shown by any number of youths, fully engaged in civil occupations, who joined for service when war broke out and went to the Front, is illustrated by extracts from his letters. The object of this portion is to engender a friendly feeling towards the writer of the letters, so that whatever more has to be said in the sequel may not have the inevitable dulness of details concerning an entire stranger. This is the sole object of this portion. The letters are not supposed to be remarkable; though as a picture of part of the life at the Front during the 1915 phase of the war they are interesting, as many other such letters must have been.
It is divided into three parts. In the first part, we get a sense of the life and spirit of various young people who were fully engaged in civilian jobs but enlisted when the war broke out and went to the Front, illustrated with excerpts from his letters. The goal of this section is to create a friendly connection to the letter's author so that whatever is shared later doesn't feel dull or detached from someone unfamiliar. This is the only purpose of this part. The letters aren’t meant to be extraordinary; however, they are interesting as a snapshot of life at the Front during the 1915 phase of the war, just like many other letters from that time.
The second part gives specimens of what at present are considered by most people unusual communications; though these again are in many respects of an ordinary type, and will be recognised as such by other bereaved persons who have had similar messages. In a few particulars, indeed, those here quoted have rather special features, by reason of the assistance given by the group of my friends "on the other side" who had closely studied the subject. It is partly owing to the urgency therein indicated that I have thought it my duty to speak out, though it may well be believed that it is not without hesitation that I have ventured thus to obtrude family affairs. I should not have done so were it not that the amount of premature and unnatural bereavement at the present time[Pg viii] is so appalling that the pain caused by exposing one's own sorrow and its alleviation, to possible scoffers, becomes almost negligible in view of the service which it is legitimate to hope may thus be rendered to mourners, if they can derive comfort by learning that communication across the gulf is possible. Incidentally I have to thank those friends, some of them previously unknown, who have in the same spirit allowed the names of loved ones to appear in this book, and I am grateful for the help which one or two of those friends have accorded. Some few more perhaps may be thus led to pay critical attention to any assurance of continued and happy and useful existence which may reach them from the other side.
The second part provides examples of what most people now consider to be unusual communications, although many of these are quite ordinary and will be recognized as such by others who have experienced similar messages after a loss. In a few ways, the examples included here have unique aspects thanks to the support from my group of friends "on the other side" who have studied this topic closely. It’s partly because of the urgency conveyed that I felt compelled to share this, though I approached it with hesitation, putting my family matters out there. I wouldn’t have done this if it weren’t for the shocking level of premature and unnatural loss happening today[Pg viii], which makes the discomfort of revealing my own grief and its relief seem minor compared to the potential help this may provide to others who are mourning, especially if they find comfort in knowing that communication from beyond is possible. I also want to thank those friends, some of whom I met for the first time, who allowed the names of their loved ones to be included in this book, and I appreciate the assistance that a few of them have offered. Perhaps this will encourage others to pay serious attention to any signs of ongoing, joyful, and meaningful existence that might come to them from the other side.
The third part of the book is of a more expository character, and is designed to help people in general to realise that this subject is not the bugbear which ignorance and prejudice have made it, that it belongs to a coherent system of thought full of new facts of which continued study is necessary, that it is subject to a law and order of its own, and that though comparatively in its infancy it is a genuine branch of psychological science. This third part is called "Life and Death," because these are the two great undeniable facts which concern everybody, and in which it is natural for every one to feel a keen interest, if they once begin to realise that such interest is not futile, and that it is possible to learn something real about them. It may be willingly admitted that these chapters are inadequate to the magnitude of the subject, but it is hoped that they are of a usefully introductory character.
The third part of the book is more explanatory and aims to help everyone understand that this topic isn’t the scary thing that ignorance and bias have made it out to be. It’s part of a cohesive system of thought filled with new facts that require ongoing study. It follows its own laws and order, and while it’s still relatively new, it’s a legitimate branch of psychological science. This third part is titled "Life and Death" because these are the two major, undeniable facts that affect everyone, and it’s natural for people to have a strong interest in them—especially once they realize that this interest isn’t pointless and that it’s possible to learn something meaningful about these topics. It’s acknowledged that these chapters may not fully cover the vastness of the subject, but it’s hoped that they serve as a useful introduction.
The "In Memoriam" chapter of Part I is no doubt chiefly of interest to family and friends; but everybody is very friendly, and under the circumstances it will be excused.
The "In Memoriam" chapter of Part I is definitely mostly relevant to family and friends; but everyone is very understanding, and given the situation, it will be overlooked.
CONTENTS
| PAGE | ||
| Introduction | vii | |
| PART ONE: NORMAL PORTION | ||
| CHAPTER | ||
| I. In Memory | 3 | |
| II. Letters from the Frontlines | 15 | |
| III. Officer Letters | 73 | |
| PART TWO: SUPERNORMAL PORTION | ||
| Intro | 83 | |
| I. Simple Explanation | 86 | |
| II. The 'Faunus' Message | 90 | |
| III. Sequel to the 'Faunus' Text | 96 | |
| IV. The Group Photo | 105 | |
| V. Start of Historical Record | 117 | |
| VI. First Meeting of O. J. L. with Mrs. Leonard | 125 | |
| VII. First Peters Sitting (Anonymous) | 129 | |
| VIII. A Table Set | 137 | |
| IX. Efforts for Stronger Evidence | 151 | |
| X. Record Ongoing | 158 | |
| XI. First Session of Alec | 162 | |
| XII. General Comments on Conversation | ||
| Reports on Cross-Correspondences | 171 | |
| XIII. An O.J.L. sitting with Peters | 174 | |
| XIV. First Portrait of LionelAnonymous | 180 | |
| XV. M.F. A.L. Meeting on November 26 | 188 | |
| XVI. O. J. L. Meeting on December 3 | 191 | |
| XVII. K.K. Auto Writing | 205 [Pg x] | |
| XVIII. First Meeting of Alec with Mrs. Leonard | 208 | |
| XIX. Private Sessions at Mariemont | 217 | |
| XX. A few more records, along with some unverifiable information. | 226 | |
| XXI. Two Evidential Meetings on March 3 | 237 | |
| XXII. More Unverified Info | 262 | |
| XXIII. A few isolated incidents | 271 | |
| PART THREE: LIFE AND DEATH | ||
| Intro | 283 | |
| I. The Meaning of Life | 289 | |
| II. The Meaning of the Term Death | 296 | |
| III. Death and Decay | 302 | |
| IV. Ongoing Existence | 308 | |
| V. Past, Present, and Future | 312 | |
| VI. Mind-Matter Interaction | 317 | |
| VII. 'Resurrection of the Body' | 322 | |
| VIII. Mind and Brain | 326 | |
| IX. Life and Awareness | 332 | |
| X. On Communication Methods | 338 | |
| XI. On the Reality of Supernormal Communication | 345 | |
| XII. On the Claim that all Psychic Communications __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ | ||
| are of a trivial nature and deal with | ||
| Trivial Topics | 349 | |
| XIII. How to Communicate | 355 | |
| XIV. Various Mind-Body Techniques | 362 | |
| XV. Mindset of the Wise and Cautious | 367 | |
| XVI. View on the Universe | 374 | |
| XVII. The Christian concept of God | 378 | |
| Index | 397 |
ILLUSTRATIONS
| Ray | Frontispiece |
| PAGE | |
| Raymond at Two Years Old | 8 |
| Raymond, 1915 | 78 |
| Group of Officers, sent to us by Mrs. Cheves on December 7, | |
| 1915, Showing an Arm Resting on Raymond's Shoulder | 110 |
| Another Edition of the Group Photo, with | |
| Shoulder Instead of Hand | 112 |
| Group Later Acquired, Clearly Captured at the __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ | |
| Same Time, but No More Pressure on Your Shoulders | 114 |
| Mariemont | 224 |
| Raymond and Brodie with the pigeons at Mariemont | 224 |
| Large Double-Compartment Tent in Its Original Version (1905) | |
| (Constructed in Mariemont and transported to Woolacombe) | 250 |
| The Tent in Its Second Form (1906) Made from the Remains | |
| of the First | 250 |
| First Edition of the Sandboat (1906) at Woolacombe, with | |
| Alec Onboard | 252 |
| Rising Ground Behind Old Tents at Woolacombe Beach | 252 |
| "Grandpa W." | 258 |
| "Mr. Jackson" with M.F. A.L. at Mariemont | 258 |
| Second Edition of Sandboat, at Mariemont, Before Being | |
| Unshipped and Transported to Woolacombe, 1907 | 260 |
| Raymond Working at the Sandboat in the Boys' Lab | |
| at Mariemont | 260 |
| "Curly" and "Vix." Curly is the Shaggy One. Vix was | |
| the Mother of Raymond's Dog "Larry" | 278 |
| Raymond in His "Nagant" Car, 1913. | |
| Outside a Friend's House in Somerset | 278 |
PART ONE: NORMAL PORTION
"And this to fill us with regard for man,
"And this to fill us with respect for humanity,
With apprehension of his passing worth."
With concern about his worth after he’s gone.
Browning, Paracelsus.
Browning, Paracelsus.
CHAPTER 1
In Memory
THE bare facts are much as reported in The Times:—
THE bare facts are pretty much as stated in The Times:—
Second Lieutenant Raymond Lodge was the youngest son of Sir Oliver and Lady Lodge, and was by taste and training an engineer. He volunteered for service in September 1914 and was at once given a commission in the 3rd South Lancashires. After training near Liverpool and Edinburgh, he went to the Front in the early spring of 1915, attached to the 2nd South Lancashire Regiment of the Regular Army, and was soon in the trenches near Ypres or Hooge. His engineering skill was of service in details of trench construction, and he later was attached to a Machine-Gun Section for a time, and had various escapes from shell fire and shrapnel. His Captain having sprained an ankle, he was called back to Company work, and at the time of his death was in command of a Company engaged in some early episode of an attack or attempted advance which was then beginning. He was struck by a fragment of shell in the attack on Hooge Hill on the 14th September 1915, and died in a few hours.
Second Lieutenant Raymond Lodge was the youngest son of Sir Oliver and Lady Lodge, trained as an engineer. He volunteered for service in September 1914 and quickly received a commission in the 3rd South Lancashires. After training near Liverpool and Edinburgh, he went to the Front in early spring 1915, attached to the 2nd South Lancashire Regiment of the Regular Army, and soon found himself in the trenches near Ypres or Hooge. His engineering skills were valuable for trench construction, and he later joined a Machine-Gun Section, facing various close calls from shell fire and shrapnel. When his Captain sprained an ankle, he was called back to Company work, and at the time of his death, he was leading a Company involved in the early stages of an attack or attempted advance that was just beginning. He was hit by a piece of shell during the attack on Hooge Hill on September 14, 1915, and died a few hours later.
Raymond Lodge had been educated at Bedales School and Birmingham University. He had a great aptitude and love for mechanical engineering, and was soon to have become a partner with his elder brothers, who highly valued his services, and desired his return to assist in the Government work which now occupies their firm.
Raymond Lodge was educated at Bedales School and Birmingham University. He had a strong talent and passion for mechanical engineering and was soon going to become a partner with his older brothers, who greatly valued his contributions and wanted him to return to help with the government work that their firm was currently engaged in.
In amplification of this bare record a few members of the family wrote reminiscences of him, and the following memoir is by his eldest brother:—
In addition to this simple record, a few family members wrote memories of him, and the following memoir is by his oldest brother:—
RAYMOND LODGE
(1889-1915)
(1889-1915)
By O. W. F. L.
By O. W. F. L.
MOST lives have marriages, births of children, productive years; but the lives of the defenders of their Country are short and of majestic simplicity. The obscure records of childhood, the few years of school and university and constructive and inventive work, and then the sudden sacrifice of all the promise of the future, of work, of home, of love; the months of hard living and hard work well carried through, the cheerful humorous letters home making it out all very good fun; and in front, in a strange ruined and desolate land, certain mutilation or death. And now that death has come.
MOST lives include marriages, the birth of children, and productive years; but the lives of those who defend their Country are short and strikingly simple. The vague memories of childhood, a few years of school and university, and moments of creative and innovative work are followed by the abrupt sacrifice of all future potential—of work, home, and love. There are months of tough living and hard work completed, with cheerful, humorous letters sent home making it seem like a great adventure; and ahead lies a strange, ruined, and desolate land, where mutilation or death awaits. And now, that death has arrived.
Unto each man his handiwork, to each his crown,
Unto each man his handiwork, to each his crown,
The just Fate gives;
The fair outcome gives;
Whoso takes the world's life on him and his own lays down,
Whosoever takes on the world's burdens and sacrifices their own life,
He, dying so, lives.[1]
He lives by dying. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
My brother was born at Liverpool on January 25th, 1889, and was at Bedales School for five or six years, and afterwards at Birmingham University, where he studied engineering and was exceptionally competent in the workshop. He went through the usual two years' practical training at the Wolseley Motor Works, and then entered his brothers' works, where he remained until he obtained a commission at the outbreak of war.
My brother was born in Liverpool on January 25, 1889, and attended Bedales School for five or six years. He then went to Birmingham University, where he studied engineering and was really skilled in the workshop. He completed the standard two years of practical training at the Wolseley Motor Works, and then joined his brothers' company, where he stayed until he received a commission when the war broke out.
His was a mind of rare stamp. It had unusual power, unusual quickness, and patience and understanding of difficulties in my experience unparalleled, so that he was [Pg 5] able to make anyone understand really difficult things. I think we were most of us proudest and most hopeful of him. Some of us, I did myself, sometimes took problems technical or intellectual to him, sure of a wise and sound solution.
His mind was truly unique. It had exceptional power, speed, and a level of patience and understanding of difficulties that I’ve never encountered before, which allowed him to help anyone grasp really complex concepts. I think most of us felt the most pride and hope in him. Some of us, myself included, occasionally brought him technical or intellectual problems, confident that he would provide a wise and solid solution.
Though his chief strength lay on the side of mechanical and electrical engineering it was not confined to that. He read widely, and liked good literature of an intellectual and witty but not highly imaginative type, at least I do not know that he read Shelley or much of William Morris, but he was fond of Fielding, Pope, and Jane Austen. Naturally he read Shakespeare, and I particularly associate him with Twelfth Night and Love's Labour's Lost. Among novelists, his favourites, after Fielding and Miss Austen, were I believe Dickens and Reade; and he frequently quoted from the essays and letters of Charles Lamb. [2]
Though his main strength was in mechanical and electrical engineering, it wasn't limited to just that. He read a lot and enjoyed good literature that was intellectual and witty, but not overly imaginative. At least, I don't think he read Shelley or much of William Morris, but he really liked Fielding, Pope, and Jane Austen. Naturally, he read Shakespeare, and I especially associate him with Twelfth Night and Love's Labour's Lost. Among novelists, his favorites, after Fielding and Miss Austen, were probably Dickens and Reade; and he often quoted from the essays and letters of Charles Lamb. [2]
Of the stories of his early childhood, and his overflowing vitality made many, I was too often from home to be able to speak at large. But one I may tell. Once when a small boy at Grove Park, Liverpool, he jumped out of the bath and ran down the stairs with the nurse after him, out of the front door, down one drive along the road and up the other, and was safely back in the bath again before the horrified nursemaid could catch up with him. [body of Memoir incomplete, and omitted here.]
Of the stories from his early childhood, which were numerous thanks to his boundless energy, I was rarely home enough to discuss them fully. But I can share one. When he was a small boy at Grove Park, Liverpool, he jumped out of the bath and took off down the stairs with the nurse chasing after him, out the front door, down one driveway, along the road, and up the other driveway, making it back to the bath again just before the shocked nursemaid could catch up with him. [body of Memoir incomplete, and omitted here.]
[Close of Memoir]
[End of Memoir]
That death is the end has never been a Christian doctrine, and evidence collected by careful men in our own day has, perhaps needlessly, upheld with weak props of experiment the mighty arch of Faith. Death is real and grievous, and is not to be tempered by the glossing timidities of those who would substitute journalese like "passing-on," "passing-over," etc., for that tremendous word: but it is the end of a stage, not the end of the journey. The road stretches on beyond that inn, and beyond our imagination, "the moonlit endless way."
That death is the end has never been a Christian belief, and evidence gathered by thoughtful people today has, perhaps unnecessarily, supported the grand idea of Faith with weak experimental arguments. Death is real and painful, and shouldn't be softened by the euphemisms of those who try to replace the powerful word with terms like "passing-on," "passing-over," etc.; but it is the conclusion of one phase, not the end of the journey. The road continues beyond that resting place and beyond our understanding, "the moonlit endless way."
Let us think of him then, not as lying near Ypres with all his work ended, but rather, after due rest and refreshment, continuing his noble and useful career in more peaceful surroundings, and quietly calling us his family from paralysing grief to resolute and high endeavour.
Let’s think of him not as lying near Ypres with all his work finished, but instead, after some rest and rejuvenation, continuing his noble and helpful career in a more peaceful environment, gently encouraging us, his family, to move from overwhelming grief to determined and meaningful action.
Indeed, it is not right that we should weep for a death like his. Rather let us pay him our homage in praise and imitation, by growing like him and by holding our lives lightly in our Country's service, so that if need be we may die like him. This is true honour and his best memorial.
Indeed, it's not appropriate for us to mourn a death like his. Instead, let's honor him through our praise and by emulating him, living our lives with a light touch in service to our country, so that if necessary, we can die as he did. This is true honor and his greatest tribute.
Not that I would undervalue those of brass or stone, for if beautiful they are good and worthy things. But fame illuminates memorials, and fame has but a narrow circle in a life of twenty-six years.
Not that I would look down on those made of brass or stone, because if they’re beautiful, they’re good and worthy things. But fame brings light to memorials, and fame has a limited reach in a life of twenty-six years.
Who shall remember him, who climb
Who will remember him, who climbs
His all-unripened fame to wake,
His unearned fame to awaken,
Who dies an age before his time?
Who dies long before their time?
But nobly, but for England's sake.
But nobly, but for England's sake.
Who will believe us when we cry
Who will believe us when we shout?
He was as great as he was brave?
He was as awesome as he was brave?
His name that years had lifted high
His name that years had elevated high
Lies buried in that Belgian grave.
Lies buried in that Belgian grave.
O strong and patient, kind and true,
O strong and patient, kind and true,
Valiant of heart, and clear of brain—
Brave at heart and clear-headed—
They cannot know the man we knew,
They can't know the guy we knew,
Our words go down the wind like rain.
Our words are carried away by the wind like rain.
O. W. F. L.
O.W.F.L.
Tintern
Tintern
EPITAPH
ON MEMORIAL TABLET
IN ST. GEORGE'S CHURCH, EDGBASTON
REMEMBER
RAYMOND LODGE
SECOND LIEUTENANT SECOND SOUTH LANCASHIRE REGIMENT
BELOVED SON OF SIR OLIVER AND LADY LODGE OF THIS PARISH
WHO GAVE HIS LIFE FOR HIS COUNTRY
HE WAS BORN JANUARY 25TH 1889
AND WAS KILLED IN ACTION IN FLANDERS
ABOUT NOON SEPTEMBER 14TH
IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 1915
AGED 26 YEARS
REMEMBER
RAYMOND LODGE
SECOND LIEUTENANT, SECOND SOUTH LANCASHIRE REGIMENT
DEDICATED SON OF SIR OLIVER AND LADY LODGE OF THIS PARISH
WHO GAVE HIS LIFE FOR HIS COUNTRY
BORN ON JANUARY 25, 1889
AND KILLED IN ACTION IN FLANDERS
AROUND NOON ON SEPTEMBER 14,
IN 1915
AT THE AGE OF 26
Whoso bears the whole heaviness of the wronged world's weight
Whosoever carries the full burden of the wronged world's weight
And puts it by,
And sets it aside,
It is well with him suffering, though he face man's fate;
It is alright for him to suffer, even as he faces man's fate;
How should he die?
How should he pass away?
Swinburne
Swinburne
REMINISCENCES BY O. J. L.
OF all my sons, the youngest, when he was small, was most like myself at the same age. In bodily appearance I could recognise the likeness to my early self, as preserved in old photographs; an old schoolfellow of mine who knew me between the ages of eight and eleven, visiting Mariemont in April 1904, remarked on it forcibly and at once, directly he saw Raymond—then a schoolboy; and innumerable small mental traits in the boy recalled to me my childhood's feelings. Even an absurd difficulty he had as a child in saying the hard letters—the hard G and K—was markedly reminiscent of my own similar difficulty.
Of all my sons, the youngest, when he was little, looked the most like I did at his age. In terms of physical appearance, I could see the resemblance to my younger self, just like in old photos; a former schoolmate who knew me between the ages of eight and eleven visited Mariemont in April 1904 and immediately noticed it as soon as he saw Raymond—who was then a schoolboy. Countless small mental traits in the boy reminded me of how I felt in my own childhood. Even a silly struggle he had as a child with the hard letters—specifically the hard G and K—was strikingly similar to the difficulty I faced.
Another peculiarity which we shared in childhood was dislike of children's parties—indeed, in my own case, a party of any kind. I remember being truly miserable at a Christmas party at The Mount, Penkhull, where I have no doubt that every one was more than friendly,—though probably over-patronising, as people often are with children,—but where I determinedly abstained from supper, and went home hungry. Raymond's prominent instance was at the hospitable Liverpool house, "Greenbank," which the Rathbones annually delivered up to family festivities each Christmas afternoon and evening, being good enough to include us in their family group. On one such occasion Raymond, a very small boy, was found in the hall making a bee-line for the front door and home. I remember sympathising with him, from ancient memories, and taking him home, subsequently returning myself.
Another thing we both disliked as kids was children's parties—really, I didn't like any kind of party. I clearly remember feeling truly miserable at a Christmas party at The Mount, Penkhull, where everyone was definitely friendly—but probably a bit too patronizing, which is common with kids. Still, I stubbornly skipped supper and went home hungry. Raymond’s memorable moment happened at the welcoming Liverpool house, "Greenbank," which the Rathbones opened up for family celebrations every Christmas afternoon and evening and kindly included us in their group. On one of those occasions, little Raymond was spotted in the hall making a direct beeline for the front door to go home. I remember feeling for him, recalling my own experiences, and I took him home, then went back myself.
At a later stage of boyhood I perceived that his ability and tastes were akin to mine, for we had the same passionate love of engineering and machinery; though in my case, having no opportunity of exercising it to any useful extent, it gradually turned into special aptitude for physical science. Raymond was never anything like as good at physics, nor had he the same enthusiasm for mathematics that I had, but he was better at engineering, was in many ways I consider stronger in character, and would have made, I expect, a first-rate engineer. His pertinacious ability in the mechanical and workshop direction was very marked. Nothing could have been further from his natural tastes and proclivities than to enter upon a military career; nothing but a sense of duty impelled him in that direction, which was quite foreign to family tradition, at least on my side.
At a later stage of childhood, I noticed that his skills and interests were similar to mine, as we both shared a passionate love for engineering and machinery. In my case, since I didn't have the opportunity to apply it effectively, my passion gradually shifted into a strong aptitude for physical science. Raymond was never as good at physics, nor did he have the same enthusiasm for math that I had, but he excelled in engineering, was, in many ways, stronger in character, and would likely have been a top-notch engineer. His persistent talent in mechanical work and the workshop was very noticeable. Nothing could have been further from his natural interests than pursuing a military career; only a sense of duty pushed him in that direction, which was quite outside of family tradition, at least on my side.
He also excelled me in a keen sense of humour—not only appreciation, but achievement. The whole family could not but admire and enjoy the readiness with which he perceived at once the humorous side of everything; and he usually kept lively any gathering of which he was a unit. At school, indeed, his active wit rather interfered with the studies of himself and others, and in the supposed interests of his classmates it had to be more or less suppressed, but to the end he continued to be rather one of the wags of the school.
He also surpassed me with his sharp sense of humor—not just in appreciating it, but in being funny himself. Everyone in the family admired how quickly he could spot the funny side of things, and he usually kept any group he was part of lively. At school, his quick wit actually got in the way of his own studies and his classmates’, so it had to be toned down for their sake, but he remained one of the school’s jokesters right up to the end.
Being so desperately busy all my life I failed to see as much as I should like either of him or of the other boys, but there was always an instinctive sympathy between us; and it is a relief to me to be unable to remember any, even a single, occasion on which I have been vexed with him. In all serious matters he was, as far as I could judge, one of the best youths I have ever known; and we all looked forward to a happy life for him and a brilliant career.
Being so incredibly busy my whole life, I didn’t get to see as much of him or the other guys as I would have liked, but there was always an unspoken bond between us; and it’s a relief that I can’t recall even a single time I was annoyed with him. In all serious matters, he was, from what I could tell, one of the best young men I've ever known; and we all looked forward to a happy life for him and an outstanding career.
His elder brothers highly valued his services in their Works. He got on admirably with the men; his mode of dealing with overbearing foremen at the Works, where he was for some years an apprentice, was testified to as masterly, and was much appreciated by his "mates"; and honestly I cannot bethink myself of any trait in his character which I would have had different—unless it be that he might have had a more thorough liking and aptitude for, and greater industry in, my own subject of physics.
His older brothers greatly appreciated his contributions at the factory. He got along really well with the guys; his way of handling difficult foremen at the factory, where he worked as an apprentice for several years, was praised as exceptional and was highly regarded by his peers. Honestly, I can't think of any aspect of his character that I would want to change—except maybe that he could have had a deeper interest in and talent for, as well as more dedication to, my own field of physics.
When the war broke out his mother and I were in Australia, and it was some time before we heard that he had considered it his duty to volunteer. He did so in September 1914, getting a commission in the Regular [ 10] Army which was ante-dated to August; and he threw himself into military duties with the same ability and thoroughness as he had applied to more naturally congenial occupations. He went through a course of training at Great Crosby, near Liverpool, with the Regiment in which he was a Second Lieutenant, namely the 3rd South Lancashires, being attached to the 2nd when he went to the Front; his Company spent the winter in more active service on the south coast of the Firth of Forth and Edinburgh; and he gained his desired opportunity to go out to Flanders on 15 March 1915. Here he applied his engineering faculty to trench and shelter construction, in addition to ordinary military duties; and presently he became a machine-gun officer. How desperately welcome to the family his safe return would have been, at the end of the war, I need not say. He had a hard and strenuous time at the Front, and we all keenly desired to make it up to him by a course of home "spoiling." But it was too much to hope for—though I confess I did hope for it.
When the war started, his mother and I were in Australia, and it took a while before we learned that he felt it was his duty to volunteer. He did so in September 1914, getting a commission in the Regular Army that was backdated to August; he dedicated himself to military duties with the same skill and thoroughness he had shown in his previous work. He trained at Great Crosby, near Liverpool, with the regiment where he was a Second Lieutenant, the 3rd South Lancashires, and he was attached to the 2nd when he went to the Front. His company spent the winter doing active service along the south coast of the Firth of Forth and Edinburgh; he finally got his chance to go to Flanders on March 15, 1915. There, he used his engineering skills for trench and shelter construction, along with regular military duties, and soon became a machine-gun officer. I don’t need to say how desperately welcome his safe return would have been for the family at the end of the war. He had a tough and challenging time at the Front, and we all really wanted to make it up to him with some pampering at home. But it was too much to hope for—even though I admit I did hope for it.
He has entered another region of service now; and this we realise. For though in the first shock of bereavement the outlook of life felt irretrievably darkened, a perception of his continued usefulness has mercifully dawned upon us, and we know that his activity is not over. His bright ingenuity will lead to developments beyond what we could have anticipated; and we have clear hopes for the future.
He has moved on to a different kind of service now, and we understand that. Even though the initial shock of loss made life seem hopelessly dark, we've thankfully come to see that he can still be of use, and we know his work isn’t finished. His creative thinking will bring about changes we couldn’t have predicted, and we have genuine hopes for what’s to come.
O. J. L.
O. J. L.
Mariemont, September 30, 1915.
Mariemont, September 30, 1915.
A MOTHER'S LAMENT
Written on a scrap of paper, September 26, 1915,
"To ease the pain and to try to get in touch"
Written on a scrap of paper, September 26, 1915,
"To relieve the suffering and to attempt to connect"
RAYMOND, darling, you have gone from our world, and oh, to ease the pain. I want to know if you are happy, and that you yourself are really talking to me and no sham.
RAYMOND, sweetheart, you've left our world, and oh, to soothe the hurt. I want to know if you're happy, and that you truly are talking to me and it's not fake.
"No more letters from you, my own dear son, and [ 11] I have loved them so. They are all there; we shall have them typed together into a sort of book.
"No more letters from you, my dear son, and [ 11] I have loved them so much. They are all here; we will get them typed up together into a kind of book."
"Now we shall be parted until I join you there. I have not seen as much of you as I wanted on this earth, but I do love to think of the bits I have had of you, specially our journeys to and from Italy. I had you to myself then, and you were so dear.
"Now we’ll be separated until I meet you there. I haven’t spent as much time with you as I wished on this earth, but I love thinking about the moments we had together, especially our trips to and from Italy. I had you all to myself during those times, and you were so precious to me."
"I want to say, dear, how we recognise the glorious way in which you have done your duty, with a certain straight pressing on, never letting anyone see the effort, and with your fun and laughter playing round all the time, cheering and helping others. You know how your brothers and sisters feel your loss, and your poor father!"
"I want to say, dear, how we appreciate the amazing way you’ve fulfilled your responsibilities, always pushing forward and never letting anyone see the struggle, while your fun and laughter lift everyone up and support them. You know how your brothers and sisters feel your absence, and your poor father!"
THE religious side of Raymond was hardly known to the family; but among his possessions at the Front was found a small pocket Bible called "The Palestine Pictorial Bible" (Pearl 24mo), Oxford University Press, in which a number of passages are marked; and on the fly-leaf, pencilled in his writing, is an index to these passages, which page I copy here:—
THE religious side of Raymond was hardly known to the family; but among his possessions at the Front was found a small pocket Bible called "The Palestine Pictorial Bible" (Pearl 24mo), Oxford University Press, in which a number of passages are marked; and on the flyleaf, penciled in his handwriting, is an index to these passages, which page I copy here:—
| PAGE | |
| Ex. xxxiii. 14 | 63 |
| St. John xiv. | 689 |
| Eph. ii. | 749 |
| Neh. i. 6, II | 337 |
| St. John xvi. 33 | 689 |
| Rom. viii. 35 | 723 |
| St. Matt. xi. 28 | 616 |
| Ps. cxxiv. 8 | 415 |
| Ps. xliii. 2 | 468 |
| Deut. xxxiii. 27 | 151 |
| Deut. xxxii. 43 | 150 |
| Isa. li. 12 | 473 |
| Isa. lii. 12 | 474 |
| Jude 24 | 784 |
| Ezra ix. 9 | 335 |
| Isa. xii. 2 | 451 |
| Isa. i. 18 | 445 |
| Isa. xl. 31 | 467 |
| Rev. vii. 14 | 788 |
| Rev. xxi. 4 | 795 |
| Mizpah. Gen. 31:49. | |
| 14/8/15 | R. L. |
THE following poem was kindly sent me by Canon Rawnsley,
in acknowledgment of a Memorial Card:—
THE following poem was kindly sent to me by Canon Rawnsley, in response to a Memorial Card:—
OUR ANGEL-HOST OF HELP
IN MEMORY OF RAYMOND LODGE,
OUR ANGEL NETWORK OF HELP
In Memory of Raymond Lodge,
Who Fell in Flanders, 14 Sept. 1915
Who Died in Flanders, Sept. 14, 1915
"His strong young body is laid under some trees on the road
from Ypres to Menin." [From the Memorial Card sent to friends.]
"His strong young body is resting under some trees along the road from Ypres to Menin." [From the Memorial Card sent to friends.]
'Twixt Ypres and Menin night and day
'Twixt Ypres and Menin, night and day
The poplar trees in leaf of gold
The poplar trees with golden leaves
Were whispering either side the way
Were whispering on either side the way
Of sorrow manifold,
Of many sorrows,
—Of war that never should have been,
—Of a war that never should have happened,
Of war that still perforce must be,
Of the war that must still happen, no matter what.
Till in what brotherhood can mean
Till in what brotherhood can mean
The nations all agree.
The countries all agree.
But where they laid your gallant lad
But where they laid your brave young man
I heard no sorrow in the air,
I didn't sense any sadness in the air,
The boy who gave the best he had
The boy who gave everything he had
That others good might share.
That others may share good.
For golden leaf and gentle grass
For golden leaves and soft grass
They too had offered of their best
They also gave their all
To banish grief from all who pass
To eliminate sadness for everyone who walks by
His hero's place of rest.
His hero's resting place.
There as I gazed, the guests of God,
There as I looked, the guests of God,
An angel host before mine eyes,
A group of angels shows up in front of me,
Silent as if on air they trod
Silent as if they were walking on air
Marched straight from Paradise.
Walked right from Paradise.
And one sprang forth to join the throng
And one rushed forward to join the crowd.
From where the grass was gold and green,
From the spot where the grass was golden and green,
His body seemed more lithe and strong
His body looked more agile and strong.
Than it had ever been.
Than it has ever been.
I cried, "But why in bright array
I cried, "But why in bright array
Of crowns and palms toward the north
Of crowns and palms pointing north
And those white trenches far away,
And those white ditches way off in the distance,
Doth this great host go forth?"
Does this great army march out?
He answered, "Forth we go to fight
He replied, "Let’s go fight."
To help all need where need there be,
To help everyone in any situation of need,
Sworn in for right against brute might
Sworn in to stand up for what’s right against raw power
Till Europe shall be free."
"Until Europe is free."
H. D. Rawnsley
H. D. Rawnsley
EXTRACTS FROM PLATO'S DIALOGUE
"MENEXENUS"
Being part of a Speech in honour of those who had
died in Battle for their Country
Being part of a speech that honors those who have died fighting for their country
AND I think that I ought now to repeat the message which your fathers, when they went out to battle, urged us to deliver to you who are their survivors, in case anything happened to them. I will tell you what I heard them say, and what, if they could, they would fain be saying now, judging from what they then said; but you must imagine that you hear it all from their lips. Thus they spoke:—
AND I think I should now repeat the message that your fathers, when they went out to battle, asked us to deliver to you, their survivors, in case anything happened to them. I will tell you what I heard them say and what, if they could, they would wish to say now, based on what they said then; but you need to imagine that you hear it all coming from their lips. This is what they said:—
"Sons, the event proves that your fathers were brave men. For we, who might have continued to live, though without glory, choose a glorious death rather than bring reproach on you and your children, and rather than disgrace our fathers and all of our race who have gone before us, believing that for the man who brings shame on his own people life is not worth living, and that such an one is loved neither by men nor gods, either on earth or in the underworld when he is dead.
"Sons, this event shows that your fathers were brave men. We could have lived our lives unnoticed, but we chose a glorious death over bringing shame upon you and your children, as well as dishonoring our fathers and ancestors. We believe that for someone who disgraces their own people, life isn’t worth living, and such a person is unloved—by both humans and gods, whether in life or in the afterlife."
"Some of us have fathers and mothers still living, and you must encourage them to bear their trouble, should it come, as lightly as may be; and do not join them in lamentations, for they will have no need of aught that would give their grief a keener edge. They will have pain enough from what has befallen them. Endeavour rather to soothe and heal their wound, reminding them that of all the boons they ever prayed for the greatest have been granted to them. For they did not pray that their sons should live for ever, but that they should be brave and of fair fame. Courage and honour are the best of all blessings, and while for a mortal man it can hardly be that everything in his own life will turn out as he would have it, their prayer for those two things has been heard. Moreover, if they bear their troubles bravely, it will be perceived that they are indeed fathers of brave sons, and that they themselves are like them.... So minded, we, [ 14] at any rate, bid those dear to us to be; such we would have them be; and such we say we are now showing that we ourselves are, neither grieving overmuch nor fearing overmuch if we are to die in this battle. And we entreat our fathers and mothers to continue to be thus minded for the rest of their days, for we would have them know that it is not by bewailing and lamentation that they will please us best. If the dead have any knowledge of the living, they will give us no pleasure by breaking down under their trouble, or by bearing it with impatience.... For our lives will have had an end the most glorious of all that fall to the lot of man; it is therefore more fitting to do us honour than to lament us."
"Some of us still have living fathers and mothers, and you should encourage them to manage their troubles as lightly as possible if they come up. Don't join in their mourning, as they don’t need anything that deepens their grief. They'll have enough pain from what has happened. Instead, focus on comforting and healing their wounds, reminding them that the greatest of their wishes have been granted. They didn’t pray for their sons to live forever but for them to be brave and remembered with honor. Courage and honor are the greatest blessings, and while it’s rare for everything in a person’s life to go as they wish, their prayers for those two qualities have been answered. Moreover, if they confront their troubles with bravery, it will show that they are indeed the parents of brave sons, and they are just like us. Thus, we encourage our loved ones to be strong; that’s how we want them to be, and that’s how we now prove we are—neither grieving excessively nor fearing too much as we face death in this battle. We ask our fathers and mothers to hold onto this mindset for the rest of their days because we want them to understand that it's not through crying and lamenting that they will make us happiest. If the dead are aware of the living, they won’t find joy in seeing their loved ones break down under grief or bear it impatiently. Our lives will have ended in the most glorious way possible, so it’s better to honor us than to mourn us."
Stat sua cuique dies; breve et irreparabile tempus
Every person's day is set; time is short and cannot be regained
Omnibus est vitae: sed famam extendere factis,
It’s all about life: but to make a name through actions,
Hoc virtutis opus.
This is the work of virtue.
Æn. x. 467
Aen. x. 467
Footnotes
Footnotes
[1] Swinburne, _Super Flumina Babylonis_.
[2] Note by O. J. L.—A volume of poems by O. W. F. L. had been sent to Raymond by the author; and this came back with his kit, inscribed on the title page in a way which showed that it had been appreciated:—
"Received at Wisques (Machine-Gun School), near St. Omer,
"Received at Wisques (Machine-Gun School), near St. Omer,
France—12th July 1915.
France—12th July 1915.
Taken to camp near Poperinghe—13th July.
Taken to camp near Poperinghe—July 13.
To huts near Dickebusch—21st July.
To huts near Dickebusch—21st July.
To first-line trenches near St. Eloi, in front of 'The Mound of
To front-line trenches near St. Eloi, in front of 'The Mound of
Death'—24th July."
Death'—24th July."
CHAPTER 2
Letters from the Front
I SHALL now, for reasons explained in the Preface, quote extracts from letters which Raymond wrote to members of his family during the time he was serving in Flanders.
I WILL now, for reasons explained in the Preface, quote excerpts from letters that Raymond wrote to his family while he was serving in Flanders.
A short note made by me the day after he first started
for the Front may serve as a preliminary statement of
fact:—
A brief note I wrote the day after he first went to the Front might serve as an initial statement of fact:—
Mariemont, Edgbaston,
16 March 1915
Mariemont, Edgbaston,
16 March 1915Raymond was recently transferred back from Edinburgh to Great Crosby near Liverpool; and once more began life in tents or temporary sheds.
Raymond was recently moved back from Edinburgh to Great Crosby near Liverpool and is once again living in tents or temporary shelters.
Yesterday morning, Monday the 15th March, one of the subalterns was ordered to the Front; he went to a doctor, who refused to pass him, owing to some temporary indisposition. Raymond was then asked if he was fit: he replied, Perfectly. So at 10 a.m. he was told to start for France that night. Accordingly he packed up; and at 3.00 we at Mariemont received a telegram from him asking to be met at 5 p.m., and saying he could spend six hours at home.
Yesterday morning, Monday, March 15th, one of the junior officers was ordered to the Front; he saw a doctor, who wouldn't clear him due to a minor illness. Then they asked Raymond if he was fit, and he replied, "Absolutely." So at 10 a.m., he was told to get ready to leave for France that night. He packed his things, and at 3:00 p.m., we at Mariemont received a text from him asking for a pickup at 5 p.m., saying he could spend six hours at home.
His mother unfortunately was in London, and for many hours was inaccessible. At last some of the telegrams reached her, at 7 p.m., and she came by the first available (slow) train from Paddington, getting here at 11.
Unfortunately, his mother was in London and couldn't be reached for many hours. Finally, she received some of the telegrams at 7 p.m. and took the first available (slow) train from Paddington, arriving here at 11.
Raymond took the midnight train to Euston; Alec, Lionel, and Noël accompanying him. They would reach Euston at 3.50 a.m. and have two hours to wait, when he was to meet a Captain [Capt. Taylor], and start from Waterloo for Southampton. The boys intended to see him off at Waterloo, and then return home to their war-business as quickly as they could.
Raymond took the midnight train to Euston with Alec, Lionel, and Noël by his side. They were scheduled to arrive at Euston at 3:50 a.m. and would have a two-hour wait, during which he was supposed to meet Captain [Capt. Taylor] and then head to Southampton from Waterloo. The guys planned to see him off at Waterloo and then quickly head back home to resume their war-related tasks.
He seems quite well; but naturally it has been rather a strain for the family: as the same sort of thing has been for so many other families.
He seems to be doing well; however, it has undoubtedly been quite a strain on the family, just like for so many other families.
O. J. L.
O. J. L.
First comes a letter written on his way to the Front after leaving Southampton.
First comes a letter written on his way to the Front after leaving Southampton.
"Hotel Dervaux, 75 Grande Rue,
Boulogne-s/Mer,
Wednesday, 24 March 1915, 11.30 a.m.
"Hotel Dervaux, 75 Grande Rue,
Boulogne-sur-Mer,
Wednesday, March 24, 1915, 11:30 a.m.""Following on my recent despatch, I have the honour to report that we have got stuck here on our way to the Front. Not stuck exactly, but they have shunted us into a siding which we reached about 8 a.m., and we are free until 2.30 p.m. when we have to telephone for further orders to find out where we are to join our train. I don't know whether this is the regular way to the Front from Rouen. I don't think it is, I fancy the more direct way must be reserved for urgent supplies and wounded.
"Following my recent message, I’m pleased to report that our journey to the Front has been delayed. Not delayed in the traditional sense, but we've been rerouted to a side track that we arrived at around 8 a.m., and we’re free until 2:30 p.m. when we need to check in for further instructions on where to meet our train. I’m not sure if this is the typical route to the Front from Rouen. I don’t think it is; I suspect the more direct route is reserved for urgent supplies and transporting the wounded."
"My servant has been invaluable en route and he has caused us a great deal of amusement. He hunted round at the goods station at Rouen (whence we started) and found a large circular tin. He pierced this all over to form a brazier and attached a wire handle. As soon as we got going he lit this, having filled it with coal purloined from somewhere, and when we stopped by the wayside about 10 or 11 p.m. he supplied my compartment (four officers) with fine hot tea. He had previously purchased some condensed milk. He also saw to it that a large share of the rations, provided by the authorities before we left, fell to our share, and looked after us and our baggage in the most splendid way.
"My servant has been extraordinarily helpful and has provided us with plenty of laughs. He rummaged through the goods station in Rouen (where we departed from) and found a large round tin. He poked holes in it to turn it into a brazier and added a wire handle. Once we were on our way, he filled it with coal he managed to scrounge up and lit it after we stopped by the roadside around 10 or 11 p.m., serving hot tea to my compartment (four officers). He had already purchased some condensed milk too. He also made sure we received a generous portion of the supplies provided by the authorities before we left, and he took exceptional care of us and our luggage."
"He insists on treating the train as a tram. As soon as it slows down to four miles an hour, he is down on the permanent way gathering firewood or visiting some railway hut in search of plunder. He rides with a number of other servants in the baggage waggon, and as they had no light he nipped out at a small station and stole one of the railway men's lamps. However, there was a good deal of fuss, and the owner came and indignantly recovered it.
"He treats the train like a tram. Whenever it slows down to four miles an hour, he jumps down onto the tracks to collect firewood or checks a railway hut for anything useful. He rides with several other workers in the baggage wagon, and since they had no light, he quickly hopped out at a small station and took one of the railway workers' lamps. Unfortunately, there was a bit of a scene, and the owner came and angrily took it back."
"As soon as we stop anywhere, he lowers out of his van the glowing brazier. He keeps it burning in the van! I wonder the railway authorities don't object. If they do, of course he pretends not to understand any French.
"Every time we stop, he pulls out the glowing brazier from his van. He even keeps it burning inside the van! I wonder why the railway authorities don’t say anything. If they do, he just pretends not to understand French."
"He often gets left behind on the line, and has to scramble into our carriage, where he regales us with his life history until the next stop, when he returns to his own van.
"He often gets left behind on the platform and has to rush into our carriage, where he entertains us with his life story until the next stop, when he heads back to his own van."
"Altogether he is a very rough customer and wants a lot of watching—all the same he makes an excellent servant."
"Overall, he’s a pretty tough guy and requires a lot of supervision—still, he’s a fantastic servant."
Letters from the Front in Flanders
"Friday, 26 March 1915
"Friday, 26 March 1915
"I arrived here yesterday about 5 p.m., and found the Battalion resting from the trenches. We all return there on Sunday evening.
"I arrived yesterday at around 5 p.m. and found the Battalion resting from the trenches. We're all going back there on Sunday evening."
"I got a splendid reception from my friends here, and they have managed to get me into an excellent Company, all the officers of which are my friends. This place is very muddy, but better than it was, I understand. We are in tents."
"I received a warm welcome from my friends here, and they helped me join a great Company where all the officers are my friends. This place is pretty muddy, but I hear it’s better than it used to be. We're staying in tents."
"Saturday, 27 March 1915, 4.30 p.m.
Saturday, March 27, 1915, 4:30 PM
"We moved from our camp into billets last night and are now in a farm-house. The natives still live here, and we (five officers) have a room to ourselves, and our five servants and our cook live and cook for us in the kitchen. The men of our Company are quartered in neighbouring farm buildings, and other Companies farther down the road. We are within a mile of a village and about three or four miles to the southward of a fair-sized and well-known town. The weather is steadily improving and the mud is drying up—though I haven't seen what the trenches are like yet....
"We moved from our campsite into a house last night and are now staying in a farmhouse. The locals still live here, and the five of us officers have a room to ourselves, while our five servants and our cook are living and cooking for us in the kitchen. The men from our Company are staying in nearby farm buildings, and other Companies are farther down the road. We're about a mile from a village and around three or four miles south of a decent-sized, well-known town. The weather keeps improving, and the mud is drying up—though I haven’t seen what the trenches are like yet...."
"I am now permanently attached to C Company and am devoutly thankful. Captain T. is in command and the subalterns are Laws, Fletcher, and Thomas, all old friends of mine. F. was the man whose room I shared at Edinburgh and over whose bed I fixed the picture....
I'm now permanently with C Company, and I'm really thankful for that. Captain T. is in charge, and the lieutenants are Laws, Fletcher, and Thomas, all friends of mine. F. was the guy I shared a room with in Edinburgh and over whose bed I hung the picture....
"We went on a 'fatigue' job to-day—just our Company—and were wrongly directed and so went too far and got right in view of the enemy's big guns. However, we cleared out very quickly when we discovered our error, and had got back on to the main road again when a couple of shells burst apparently fairly near where we had been. There were a couple of hostile aeroplanes about too.... Thank you very much for your letter wondering where I am. 'Very pressing are the Germans,' a buried city."
"We had a 'fatigue' job today—just our Company—and got misdirected, so we went too far and ended up right in sight of the enemy's big guns. However, we moved out quickly when we realized our mistake, and we were back on the main road just as a couple of shells exploded nearby where we had been. There were also a couple of enemy planes flying around... Thanks a lot for your letter asking about where I am. 'The Germans are pressing hard,' a buried city."
[This of course privately signified to the family that he was at Ypres.]
[This obviously privately indicated to the family that he was at Ypres.]
"1 April 1915, 1.15 p.m.
"April 1, 1915, 1:15 PM
"We dug trenches by night on Monday and Wednesday, and although we were only about 300 to 500 yards from the enemy we had a most peaceful time, only a very few stray bullets whistling over from time to time."
"We dug trenches at night on Monday and Wednesday, and even though we were only about 300 to 500 yards from the enemy, it was surprisingly calm, with just a few stray bullets whizzing by from time to time."
"Saturday, 3 April 1915, 7 p.m.
Saturday, April 3, 1915, 7 p.m.
"I am having quite a nice time in the trenches. I am writing this in my dug-out by candle-light; this afternoon I had a welcome shave. Shaving and washing is usually dispensed with during our spell of duty (even by the Colonel), but if I left it six days I should burst my razor I think. I have got my little 'Primus' with me and it is very useful indeed as a standby, although we do all our main cooking on a charcoal brazier....
"I’m having a pretty good time in the trenches. I’m writing this in my dugout by candlelight; this afternoon, I had a much-needed shave. We usually skip shaving and washing while on duty (even the Colonel does), but if I waited six days, I think my razor would break. I brought my little 'Primus' with me, and it’s really handy as a backup, even though we do most of our main cooking on a charcoal brazier...."
"I will look out for the great sunrise to-morrow morning and am wishing you all a jolly good Easter: I shan't have at all a bad one. It is very like Robinson Crusoe—we treasure up our water supply most carefully (it is brought up in stone jars), and we have excellent meals off limited and simple rations, by the exercise of a little native cunning on the part of our servants, especially mine."
"I'll be on the lookout for a beautiful sunrise tomorrow morning and I hope you all have a fantastic Easter: I’m going to enjoy mine. It's a lot like Robinson Crusoe—we carefully save our water supply (it comes in stone jars), and we have great meals from limited and simple rations, thanks to a bit of cleverness from our staff, especially mine."
"Bank Holiday, 5 April 1915, 4.30 p.m.
Bank Holiday, April 5, 1915, 4:30 PM.
"The trenches are only approached and relieved at night-time, and even here we are not allowed to stir from the house by day on any pretext whatever, and no fires are allowed on account of the smoke. (Fires are started within doors when darkness falls and we have a hot meal then and again in the early morning—that is the rule—however, we do get a fire in the day by using charcoal only and lighting up from a candle to one piece and from that one piece to the rest, by blowing; also I have my Primus stove.) ... We are still within rifle-fire range here, but of course it is all unaimed fire from the intermittent conflict going on at the firing line....
"We can only approach and relieve the trenches at night, and during the day, we aren’t allowed to leave the house for any reason, plus no fires are allowed because of the smoke. (We light fires indoors when it gets dark for a hot meal, and again early in the morning—that's the rule—but we do manage to make a fire during the day using only charcoal, lighting it from a candle to one piece and then from that piece to the others by blowing; plus, I have my Primus stove.) ... We’re still within range of rifle fire here, but of course, it’s all random shooting from the ongoing conflict at the front line....
"I have a straw bed covered with my tarpaulin sheet—(it is useful although I have also the regular military rubber ground sheet as well)—and my invaluable air-pillow. I am of course travelling light and have to carry [ 19] everything in my 'pack' until I get back to my valise and 'rest billets,' so I sleep in my clothes. Simply take off my boots and puttees, put my feet in a nice clean sack, take off my coat and cover myself up with my British Warm coat (put on sideways so as to use its great width to the full). Like this I sleep like a top and am absolutely comfortable."
"I have a straw bed covered with my tarp—it’s useful even though I also have the standard military rubber ground sheet—and my priceless air pillow. I'm traveling light and need to carry everything in my 'pack' until I get back to my suitcase and 'rest quarters,' so I sleep in my clothes. I just take off my boots and puttees, slip my feet into a clean sack, take off my coat, and cover myself with my British Warm coat (worn sideways to make the most of its great width). This way, I sleep soundly and am completely comfortable."
"I have been making up an Acrostic for you all to guess—here it is:
"I’ve come up with an acrostic for you all to solve—here it is:
Lights. My first is speechless, and a bell
Has often the complaint as well.
Three letters promising to pay,
Each letter for a word does stay.
There's nothing gross about this act;—
A gentle kiss involving tact.
A General less his final 'k,'
A hen would have no more to say.
Our Neenie who is going west
Her proper name will serve you best.
Whole. My whole, though in a foreign tongue,
Is Richard's name when he is young.
The rest is just a shrub or tree
With spelling 'Made in Germany.'
Lights. My first is silent, and a bell
Often has the same complaint as well.
Three letters that promise to pay,
Each letter represents a word, they say.
There's nothing crude about this act;—
A gentle kiss that requires some tact.
A General minus his final 'k,'
A hen would have nothing left to say.
Our Neenie who is heading west
Her proper name will serve you best.
Whole. My whole, though in a foreign language,
Is Richard's name when he is young.
The rest is simply a shrub or tree
Spelled 'Made in Germany.'"That's the lot. The word has ten letters and is divided into two halves for the purpose of the Acrostic.
"That's it. The word has ten letters and is divided into two parts for the Acrostic."
"My room-mate has changed for to-night, and I have got Wyatt, who has just come in covered in mud, after four days in the trenches. He is machine-gun officer, and works very hard. I am so glad to have him.
"My roommate has changed for tonight, and I have Wyatt, who just came in covered in mud after four days in the trenches. He’s a machine-gun officer and works really hard. I'm really glad to have him."
"By the way the support-trenches aren't half bad. I didn't want to leave them, but it's all right here too."
"By the way, the support trenches aren't that bad. I didn't want to leave them, but it's fine here too."
"Thursday, 8 April 1915
"Thursday, April 8, 1915
"Here I am back again in 'Rest Billets,' for six days' rest. When I set off for the six days' duty I was ardently looking forward to this moment, but there is not much difference; here we 'pig' it pretty comfortably in a house, and there we 'pig' it almost as comfortably in a 'dug-out.' There we are exposed to rifle fire, nearly all unaimed, and here we are exposed to shell fire—aimed, but from about five miles away.
"I'm back in 'Rest Billets' for six days of downtime. When I left for six days of duty, I was really looking forward to this moment, but it’s not much different; here we get pretty comfortable in a house, and there we were almost as comfortable in a 'dug-out.' Over there, we faced rifle fire, most of which was random, and here we deal with shell fire—targeted, but from about five miles away."
"On the whole this is the better, because there is more room to move about, more freedom for exercise, and there is less mud. But you will understand how much conditions in the trenches have improved if comparison is possible at all.
"Overall, this is better because there's more room to move, more freedom for exercise, and less mud. But you can see how much conditions in the trenches have improved if a comparison is even possible."
"My platoon (No. 11) has been very fortunate; we have had no casualties at all in the last six days. The nearest thing to one was yesterday when we were in the firing trench, and a man got a bullet through his cap quite close to his head. He was peeping over the top, a thing they are all told not to do in the daytime. The trenches at our point are about a hundred yards apart, and it is really safe to look over if you don't do it too often, but it is unnecessary, as we had a periscope and a few loopholes....
"My platoon (No. 11) has been really lucky; we haven’t had any casualties at all in the last six days. The closest call was yesterday when we were in the firing trench, and a bullet went through a guy's cap really close to his head. He was peeking over the top, which everyone is warned not to do during the day. The trenches at our position are about a hundred yards apart, and it’s actually safe to look over if you don’t do it too often, but it’s not necessary since we have a periscope and a few loopholes..."
"I am awfully grateful for all the things that have been sent, and are being sent.... I will attach a list of wants at the end of this letter. I am very insatiable (that's not quite the word I wanted), but I am going on the principle that you and the rest of the family are only waiting to gratify my every whim! So, if I think of a thing I ask for it....
"I’m really grateful for everything that’s been sent and is still coming.... I’ll attach a list of things I want at the end of this letter. I know I’m being a bit greedy (that’s not exactly the word I meant), but I’m assuming that you and the rest of the family are just waiting to fulfill my every desire! So, if I think of something, I’ll just ask for it....
"By the way we have changed our billets here. Our last ones have been shelled while we were away—a prodigious hole through the roof wrecking the kitchen, but not touching our little room at the back. However, it is not safe enough for habitation and the natives even have left!
"By the way, we’ve changed our accommodations here. Our last ones were bombed while we were away—there’s a huge hole in the roof that wrecked the kitchen, but it didn’t affect our little room in the back. However, it’s not safe enough to live in, and even the locals have left!"
"Things are awfully quiet here. We thought at first that it was 'fishy' and something was preparing, but I don't think so now. It is possibly the principle of 'live and let live.' In the trenches if we don't stir them up with shots they leave us pretty well alone. Of course we are ready for anything all the same.
"Things are really quiet here. At first, we thought it was suspicious and that something was about to happen, but I don't think that’s the case anymore. It might just be the idea of 'live and let live.' In the trenches, if we don’t provoke them with gunfire, they mostly leave us alone. Of course, we’re still ready for anything just in case."
"Yes, we see the daily papers here as often as we want to (the day's before). Personally, and I think my view is shared by all the other officers, I would rather read a romance, or anything not connected with this war, than a daily paper....
"Yes, we can check the daily papers here as often as we want (the previous day's). Personally, and I think all the other officers feel the same way, I'd rather read a novel or anything unrelated to this war rather than a daily paper..."
"Was the Easter sunrise a success? It wasn't here. Cloudy and dull was how I should describe it. Fair to fine generally, some rain (the latter not to be taken in the American sense).
"Was the Easter sunrise a success? Not here. It was cloudy and dull, to put it simply. Generally fair to fine, with some rain (the latter not in the American sense)."
"I wonder if you got my Acrostic [see previous letter] and whether anybody guessed it; it was meant to be very easy, but perhaps acrostics are no longer the fashion and are somewhat boring. I always think they are more fun to make than to undo. The solution is a household word here, because it is only a half-mile or so away, and provides most things."
"I wonder if you received my acrostic [see previous letter] and if anyone figured it out; it was supposed to be really easy, but maybe acrostics aren’t popular anymore and come off as a bit dull. I find them more fun to create than to solve. The answer is a common term here since it’s just half a mile away and has almost everything."
[The family had soon guessed the Acrostic, giving the place as Dickebusch. The "lights" are—
[The family had soon figured out the Acrostic, identifying the place as Dickebusch. The "lights" are—
D um B
I o U
Cares S
K lu Ck
E dit H.]
D um B
I owe you
Cares S
K lu Ck
Edit H.]
[To a Brother]
"Billets, Tuesday, 13 April 1915
"Billets, Tuesday, 13 April 1915
"We are all right here except for the shells. When I arrived I found every one suffering from nerves and unwilling to talk about shells at all. And now I understand why. The other day a shrapnel burst near our billet and a piece of the case caught one of our servants (Mr. Laws's) on the leg and hand. He lost the fingers of his right hand, and I have been trying to forget the mess it made of his right leg—ever since. He will have had it amputated by now.
"We're okay here except for the shelling. When I arrived, everyone was nervous and didn’t want to talk about the shells at all. Now I understand why. The other day, a shrapnel shell exploded near our quarters, and a piece hit one of our servants (Mr. Laws's) on the leg and hand. He lost fingers on his right hand, and I've been trying to forget the damage it did to his right leg since then. By now, he must have had it amputated."
"They make you feel awfully shaky, and when one comes over it is surprising the pace at which every one gets down into any ditch or hole near.
"They really make you feel shaky, and when one comes close, it’s surprising how fast everyone dives into the nearest ditch or hole."
"One large shell landed right on the field where the men were playing football on Sunday evening. They all fell flat, and all, I'm thankful to say, escaped injury, though a few were within a yard or so of the hole. The other subalterns of the Company and I were (mirabile dictu) in church at the time.
"One big shell landed right on the field where the guys were playing football on Sunday evening. They all dropped to the ground, and luckily, none of them got hurt, although a few were just a yard or so from the hole. The other junior officers in the Company and I were (mirabile dictu) in church at the time."
"I wonder if you can get hold of some morphia tablets [for wounded men]. I think injection is too complicated, but I understand there are tablets that can merely be placed [ 22] in the mouth to relieve pain. They might prove very useful in the trenches, because if a man is hit in the morning he will usually have to wait till dark to be removed.
"I wonder if you can get some morphine tablets [for wounded men]. I think an injection is too complicated, but I've heard there are tablets that can just be placed [ 22] in the mouth to relieve pain. They could be really useful in the trenches because if a man is hit in the morning, he usually has to wait until dark to be evacuated."
"My revolver has arrived this morning."
"My revolver arrived this morning."
"Sunday, 18 April 1915
"Sunday, 18 April 1915
"I came out of the trenches on Friday night. It was raining, so the surface of the ground was very slippery; and it was the darkest night I can remember. There was a good deal of 'liveliness' too, shots were flying around more than usual. There were about a hundred of us in our party, two platoons (Fletcher's and mine) which had been in the fire trenches, though I was only with them for one day, Thursday night till Friday night. Captain Taylor was in front, then Fletcher's platoon, then Fletcher, then my platoon, then me bringing up the rear. We always travel in single file, because there are so many obstacles to negotiate—plank bridges and 'Johnson' holes being the chief.
"I left the trenches on Friday night. It was raining, making the ground really slippery, and it was the darkest night I can remember. There was also a lot of action; shots were flying around more than usual. Our group had about a hundred men, from two platoons (Fletcher's and mine) that had been in the firing trenches, although I was only with them for one day, from Thursday night to Friday night. Captain Taylor was leading, followed by Fletcher's platoon, then Fletcher, and then my platoon, with me bringing up the rear. We always travel in single file because of so many obstacles—plank bridges and 'Johnson' holes being the main ones."
"Picture us then shuffling our way across the fields behind the trenches at about one mile an hour—with frequent stops while those in front negotiate some obstacle (during these stops we crouch down to try and miss most of the bullets!). Every few minutes a 'Very' light will go up and then the whole line 'freezes' and remains absolutely stationary in its tracks till the light is over. A 'Very' light is an 'asteroid.' (Noël will explain that.) It is fired either by means of a rocket (in the German case) or of a special pistol called a 'Very' pistol after the inventor (in our case). The light is not of magnesium brightness, but is just a bright star light with a little parachute attached, so that it falls slowly through the air. The light lasts about five seconds. These things are being shot up at short intervals all night long. Sometimes dozens are in the air together, especially if an attack is on.
"Picture us shuffling across the fields behind the trenches at about one mile an hour, with frequent stops as those in front handle obstacles (during these stops we crouch down to avoid most of the bullets!). Every few minutes, a 'Very' light goes up, and then the whole line 'freezes' and stays completely still until the light fades. A 'Very' light is an 'asteroid.' (Noël will explain that.) It’s launched by either a rocket (in the German case) or a special pistol called a 'Very' pistol, named after the inventor (in our case). The light isn’t as bright as magnesium but resembles a bright star with a parachute that allows it to fall slowly. The light lasts about five seconds. These things are shot up at short intervals all night. Sometimes, dozens are in the air together, especially during an attack."
"Well, to go back to Friday night:—it took us a very long time to get back, and at one point it was hard to believe that they hadn't seen us. Lights went up and almost a volley whistled over us. We all got right down and waited for a bit. Really we were much too far off for them to see us, but we were on rather an exposed bit of [ 23] ground, and they very likely fix a few rifles on to that part in the daytime and 'poop' them off at night. That is a favourite plan of theirs, and works very well.
"Well, back to Friday night: it took us a really long time to get back, and at one point, it was hard to believe they hadn’t spotted us. Lights went up, and a volley whistled over us. We all dropped down and waited for a bit. Honestly, we were too far for them to see us, but we were in a pretty exposed spot on the [ 23] ground, and they probably target that area during the day and then shoot at it at night. That's one of their favorite strategies, and it works really well."
"We did get here in the end, and had no casualties, though we had had one just before leaving the trench. A man called Raymond (in my platoon) got shot through the left forearm. He was firing over the parapet and had been sniping snipers (firing at their flashes). Rather a nasty wound through an artery. They applied a tourniquet and managed to stop the bleeding, but he was so weak from loss of blood he had to be carried back on a stretcher.
"We eventually made it back without any casualties, even though we had one just before leaving the trench. A guy named Raymond (in my platoon) got shot through the left forearm. He was firing over the parapet, trying to hit snipers (shooting at their flashes). It was a pretty serious wound through an artery. They put on a tourniquet and managed to stop the bleeding, but he was so weak from blood loss that he had to be carried back on a stretcher."
"I had noticed this man before, partly on account of his name. Last time I was in the fire trenches (about ten days ago) I was dozing in my dug-out one evening and the Sergeant-Major was in his, next door. Suddenly he calls out 'Raymond!' I started. Then he calls again 'Raymond! Come here!' I shouted out 'Hallo! What's the matter?' But then I heard the other Raymond answering, so I guessed how it was....
"I had seen this guy before, partly because of his name. The last time I was in the trenches (about ten days ago), I dozed off in my dugout one evening while the Sergeant-Major was next door. Suddenly, he called out 'Raymond!' I jumped. Then he called again, 'Raymond! Come here!' I yelled back, 'Hey! What’s going on?' But then I heard the other Raymond responding, so I figured out what was happening....
"While at tea in the next room the post came and brought me your letter and one from Alec. Isn't it perfectly marvellous? You were surprised at the speed of my last letter. But how about yours? The postmark is 2.30 p.m. on the 16th at Birmingham, and here it is in my hands at 4 p.m. on the 18th!
"While having tea in the next room, the mail arrived with your letter and one from Alec. Isn’t it incredible? You were surprised at how quickly I sent my last letter. But what about yours? The postmark is 2:30 p.m. on the 16th in Birmingham, and here it is in my hands at 4 p.m. on the 18th!"
"I was telling you about the difficulties of going to and fro between here and the trenches, but you will understand it is not always like that. If there is a moon, or even if there is a clear sky so that we can get the benefit of the starlight (which is considerable and much more than I thought), matters are much improved, because if you can still see the man in front, when he is, say, 5 yards in front of you, and can also see the holes instead of finding them with your person, all that 'waiting for the "tail" to close up' is done away with....
"I was telling you about the challenges of moving back and forth between here and the trenches, but you’ll understand that it’s not always like that. If there’s a moon, or if the sky is clear enough to use starlight (which is actually pretty good and more than I expected), it gets a lot easier. If you can still see the person in front of you when they’re about 5 yards away, and can spot the holes instead of tripping into them, all that 'waiting for the "tail" to catch up' is avoided..."
"Last night Laws, Thomas, and myself each took a party of about forty-five down separately, leaving the remainder guarding the various billets. Then when we returned Fletcher took the rest down.
"Last night, Laws, Thomas, and I each took a group of about forty-five down separately, leaving the others guarding the various posts. Then, when we got back, Fletcher took the rest down."
"It was a glorious night, starry, with a very young and inexperienced moon, and quite dry and warm. I would not [ 24] have minded going down again except that I would rather go to bed, which I did.
"It was a beautiful night, full of stars, with a very young and inexperienced moon, and it was quite dry and warm. I wouldn’t have minded going down again except that I would have preferred to go to bed, which I did."
"Do you know that joke in Punch where the Aunt says: 'Send me a postcard when you are safely in the trenches!'? Well, there is a great deal of truth in that—one feels quite safe when one reaches the friendly shelter of the trench, though of course the approaches aren't really very dangerous. One is 'thrilled' by the whistle of the bullets near you. That describes the feeling best, I think—it is a kind of excitement."
"Do you know that joke in Punch where the Aunt says: 'Send me a postcard when you’re safely in the trenches!'? Well, there’s a lot of truth in that—people feel pretty safe when they reach the comforting shelter of the trench, even if the way there isn’t actually that dangerous. You get a rush from the sound of bullets whizzing past you. That really captures the feeling, I think—it’s a kind of excitement."
"Thursday, 22 April 1915, 6.50 p.m.
Thursday, April 22, 1915, 6:50 PM
"I have received a most grand periscope packed, with spare mirrors, in a canvas haversack. It is a glorious one and I am quite keen to use it, thank you very much indeed for it. Thank you also for two sets of ear defenders which I am going to test when firing off a 'Very' light. A 'parachuted' star is fired from a brass pistol with a bore of about 1 inch and a barrel of about 6 inches. The report is very deafening, I believe—though I haven't fired one yet.
"I received an incredible periscope filled with extra mirrors in a canvas bag. It’s amazing, and I can’t wait to use it, so thank you very much for it. I also appreciate the two sets of ear defenders, which I’ll try out when I’m firing a 'Very' light. A 'parachuted' star is fired from a brass pistol with a bore of about 1 inch and a barrel of about 6 inches. I believe the noise is really loud—though I haven’t fired one yet."
"The star, by the way, though it lights up the country for some distance, is not too bright to look at.
"The star, by the way, while it lights up the area quite far away, isn't too bright to look at."
"I have just remembered something I wanted to tell you, so I will put it in here.
"I just remembered something I wanted to tell you, so I'll add it here."
"When walking to and from the trenches in the darkness, I find it is a great help to study the stars (not for purposes of direction). I know very little about them, and I saw a very useful plan in, I think, the Daily News of 3 April, called 'The Night Sky in April.' It was just a circle with the chief planets and stars shown and labelled. The periphery of the circle represented the horizon.
"When walking to and from the trenches in the dark, I find it really helpful to look at the stars (not for navigation). I don’t know much about them, but I saw a useful diagram in, I think, the Daily News from April 3, called 'The Night Sky in April.' It was just a circle with the main planets and stars marked and labeled. The edge of the circle showed the horizon."
"If you know of such a plan that is quite easily obtainable I should be glad to have one. The simpler the thing the better.
"If you know of a simple plan that's easy to get, I would love to have one. The simpler, the better."
"The books you had sent me, which were passed on to me by Professor Leith, are much appreciated. They circulate among officers of this Company like a library. At the time they arrived we were running short of reading-matter, but since then our Regimental Headquarters have come to the rescue and supplied each Company with half [ 25] a dozen books, to be passed on to other Companies afterwards.
"The books you sent me, which were shared by Professor Leith, are really appreciated. They’re going around among the officers of this Company like a library. When they arrived, we were short on reading material, but since then our Regimental Headquarters have provided each Company with half [ 25] a dozen books, which will be passed on to other Companies later."
"I enclose an acrostic that I made up while in the trenches during our last spell. It seems to be a prolific place for this sort of thing."
"I’m sharing an acrostic I came up with while in the trenches during our last stint. It seems to be a productive place for this kind of thing."
Acrostic
Acrostic
(One word of five letters)
(One word of five letters)
Lights. The lowest rank with lowest pay,
Don't make this public though, I pray!
Inoculation's victim, though
Defeated still a powerful foe.
When Government 'full-stop' would say
It does so in this novel way.
The verb's success, the noun's disgrace
And lands you in a foreign place.
A king of kings without a roar,
His kingdom that no anger bore.
The final goal—the end of all—
What all desire, both great and small. R. L., 19 April 1915Lights. The lowest rank with the lowest pay,
But please don’t let this be known, I pray!
A victim of the vaccine, though
Still defeated a powerful foe.
When the Government 'stop' would say
It does so in this new way.
The verb succeeds, the noun’s disgrace
And lands you in an unfamiliar place.
A king of kings without a roar,
His kingdom didn’t harbor any anger.
The ultimate goal—the end of all—
What everyone desires, both large and small. R. L., 19 April 1915
[The solution of this is the word Peace given twice—once inverted. The first 'light,' which is not 'public' is 'Private'; the second is 'Enteric'; the third is a sign employed in Government telegrams to denote a full-stop, viz., 'aaa'; the fourth is 'Capture'; and the fifth (with apologies) is 'Emp,' and some occult reference to Edward VII, not remembered now; the kingdom without anger being Empire without ire.—O. J. L.]
[The answer to this is the word Peace given twice—once reversed. The first 'light,' which isn't 'public,' is 'Private'; the second is 'Enteric'; the third is a symbol used in government telegrams to indicate a full stop, which is 'aaa'; the fourth is 'Capture'; and the fifth (with apologies) is 'Emp,' along with some obscure reference to Edward VII, which isn't remembered now; the kingdom without anger being Empire without ire.—O. J. L.]
"Friday, 30 April 1915, 4.10 p.m.
"Friday, April 30, 1915, 4:10 PM
"I wish you could see me now. I am having a little holiday in Belgium. At the moment I am sitting in the shade of a large tree, leaning against its trunk, writing to you. The sun is pouring down and I have been sitting in it lying on a fallen tree, but it makes me feel lazy, so I came here to write (in the shade).
"I wish you could see me now. I’m on a little getaway in Belgium. Right now, I’m sitting in the shade of a big tree, leaning against its trunk, writing to you. The sun is shining down, and I was lying on a fallen tree, but that made me feel lazy, so I came here to write (in the shade)."
"Before me, across a moat, is the château—ruined now, but not by old age. It is quite a handsome building, two storeys high. It is built of brick with a slate roof; the bricks are colour-washed yellow with a white band 18 inches deep under the roof; there are two towers with pointed roofs that stand to the front of the house, projecting slightly from it, forming bay windows. These towers, from [ 26] the roof down to the ground, are red brick, as are the fronts of the dormer windows in the main building.
"In front of me, across a moat, is the château—now in ruins, but not because of age. It’s quite a charming building, two stories high. It’s made of brick with a slate roof; the bricks are painted yellow with a white band 18 inches deep under the roof; there are two towers with pointed roofs that slightly extend from the front of the house, creating bay windows. These towers, from the roof down to the ground, are made of red brick, just like the front of the dormer windows in the main building."
"The larger and taller tower is octagonal and stands in the middle of the front, the smaller one is square and stands on the right corner. On each side of the main building are flanking buildings consisting on this (left) side of a brick-built palm-house and beyond that again a glass-covered conservatory. The other flank has a conservatory also, but I have not explored as far as that. The front of the building is about 70 to 80 yards long.
"The larger, taller tower is octagonal and sits in the center at the front, while the smaller tower is square and positioned at the right corner. On each side of the main building are adjoining structures; on the left, there's a brick palm house, and beyond that, a glass-covered conservatory. The other side also has a conservatory, but I haven't checked that area out yet. The front of the building is about 70 to 80 yards long."
"The main entrance is on the other or northern side. It is reached by a drawbridge over the moat. The house on that (north) side is not so much damaged. It has long windows with shutters that give it a continental air. I can't sketch it, so I have given you a rough elevation from the south. I am sitting to the south-west, just across the moat.
"The main entrance is on the north side. You can reach it by crossing a drawbridge over the moat. The house on that side isn't too damaged. It has long windows with shutters that give it a European feel. I can't sketch it, so I've included a rough elevation from the south. I'm sitting to the southwest, right across the moat."
"The place is in an awful mess. In some parts it is difficult to tell how the original building went. One can [ 27] see into several of the rooms; the outer wall has fallen away, exposing about three rooms and an attic. In one room the floor has dropped at one corner to some 8 feet below its proper level, and a bed is just above poised on the edge of the room, almost falling out where the room is sectioned.
"The place is a total mess. In some parts, it's hard to tell what the original building looked like. You can see into several rooms since the outer wall has collapsed, exposing about three rooms and an attic. In one room, the floor has dropped at one corner to about 8 feet below where it should be, and a bed is precariously balanced on the edge of the room, almost falling out where the room is divided."
"There is no glass in any of the green-houses—it is all on the floor. The palm-house is full of green tubs with plants in them, mostly overturned.
"There’s no glass in any of the greenhouses—it’s all on the ground. The palm house is filled with green pots containing plants, most of which are tipped over."
"In the garden the trees are blossoming, some of the fruit trees are covered with white blossom; but many, even of these, are lying flat and blossoming in the moat. The drive runs down to the road on the south side in an absolutely straight line, flanked by tall trees. But many of these are down too. I was lying on one just now. The garden is in good order, though getting a little out of hand. There is a small plantation of gooseberry bushes that looks very healthy. Shell holes are all about, however.
"In the garden, the trees are blooming, with some of the fruit trees covered in white flowers; however, many of them are flat and blooming in the moat. The driveway leads straight down to the road on the south side, lined with tall trees. But many of those are down too. I was lying on one just now. The garden is mostly in good shape, though it’s starting to get a bit overgrown. There's a small patch of gooseberry bushes that looks really healthy. But there are shell holes all around, though."
"The house, although it is not on an eminence, commands a good view to the southward and has a fine view of the German lines, which are slightly raised just here. The enemy evidently suspected this château was used as an observation post, as indeed it may have been.
"The house, while not on a hill, has a good view to the south and offers a nice view of the German lines, which are slightly elevated right here. The enemy clearly suspected that this château was being used as an observation post, and it very well might have been."
"We came out of the trenches on Wednesday night into Reserve Billets, and I was placed with No. 9 platoon (instead of my own) in a little house not far from this château. We are not allowed to leave it by day, or rather we are not allowed to show ourselves on the south side of it, as it might draw shell-fire on to it. But I managed to sneak away to the north under cover of a hedge without any risk of being seen.
"We came out of the trenches on Wednesday night into Reserve Billets, and I was assigned to No. 9 platoon (instead of my own) in a small house not far from this château. We’re not allowed to leave it during the day, or rather, we’re not allowed to be seen on the south side of it, as it could attract shell-fire. But I managed to sneak away to the north under the cover of a hedge without any risk of being spotted."
"After being relieved in the trenches on Wednesday, and marching back and having a meal with the other officers of C Company in the Reserve Billets (a brewery), it was one o'clock before I got to bed in our little house. And we had to 'stand to arms' in the morning for an hour while dawn was breaking (we always do, and at dusk too). So after this I went to sleep till 2 p.m. I sleep in an outhouse with no door, on straw laid on a brick floor. My ground-sheet on the straw, my coat over me, my feet in a sack and an air-cushion under my head, and I can sleep as peacefully as at home. The place is swarming with rats [ 28] and mice, you can hear them directly you lie still. They go 'plop, plop, plop,' on the straw overhead, as if they were obliged to take long strides owing to their feet sinking into the straw. Immediately over my head, I should judge, there is a family of young rats by the noise. Occasionally they have a stampede and a lot of dust comes down on my face.
"After being relieved in the trenches on Wednesday and marching back to have a meal with the other officers of C Company at the Reserve Billets (a brewery), it was one o'clock before I got to bed in our little house. We had to 'stand to arms' in the morning for an hour while dawn broke (we always do, and at dusk too). So after that, I went to sleep until 2 p.m. I sleep in an outhouse with no door, on straw laid on a brick floor. My ground sheet on the straw, my coat over me, my feet in a sack, and an air cushion under my head, and I can sleep as peacefully as at home. The place is swarming with rats [ 28] and mice; you can hear them as soon as you lie still. They go 'plop, plop, plop' on the straw overhead, as if they had to take long strides because their feet sink into the straw. Right above my head, I would guess, there's a family of young rats judging by the noise. Occasionally, they stampede, and a lot of dust falls on my face."
"But one gets used to this, and muttering 'Nom d'un chien!' one turns the other cheek. By the way, they say these rats 'stand to' at dawn, just as we do.
"But you get used to it, and while muttering 'Nom d'un chien!' you turn the other cheek. By the way, they say these rats 'stand to' at dawn, just like we do."
"I am terrified of a rat running over my face, but my servant sleeps with me, so I console myself that the chances are just even that they won't choose me. I wish he wouldn't snore though—he's lowering the odds.
"I am really scared of a rat running across my face, but my servant sleeps with me, so I comfort myself that the chances are about the same that they won't choose me. I just wish he wouldn't snore—he's making it more likely."
"Last night we had to turn out for fatigue parties. I took a party down to one of the fire trenches with 'knife rests.' These are sections of barbed wire entanglement. They are made by fixing cross-pieces on the ends of a long pole. The tips of these cross-pieces are joined together with barbed wire laid parallel to the centre pole. Then the whole is wound with more barbed wire laid on spirally, thus: [a sketch]
"Last night we had to show up for fatigue duty. I took a group down to one of the fire trenches with 'knife rests.' These are sections of barbed wire entanglement. They're created by attaching cross-pieces to the ends of a long pole. The tips of these cross-pieces are connected with barbed wire running parallel to the center pole. Then the whole thing is wrapped with more barbed wire wound spirally, like this: [a sketch]
These are slung out in front of the trenches and fixed together. They are now fixed also to the trench, because the Germans used to harpoon them and draw them over to their own side!
These are laid out in front of the trenches and fastened together. They are now also attached to the trench, because the Germans used to spear them and pull them over to their side!
"Well, we set off about 11 p.m. and took twenty-two of these down. We didn't exactly bless the full moon—although it showed us the holes and obstructions in the way. Still, we had no casualties and made good time. We got back about midnight. So I only slept till 12.30 this morning! Of course I had to get up for an hour at dawn. I used the time to brew myself some cocoa. I am getting an expert cook, and can make that 'Bivouac' cocoa taste like the very finest chocolate....
"Well, we headed out around 11 p.m. and took down twenty-two of these. We didn't exactly celebrate the full moon—though it did help us see the holes and obstacles in our path. Still, we didn’t have any injuries and made good progress. We returned around midnight. So I only slept until 12:30 this morning! Of course, I had to get up for an hour at dawn. I used that time to make myself some cocoa. I’m becoming quite the cook, and I can make that 'Bivouac' cocoa taste like the finest chocolate."
"Just before going into the trenches I received another of those splendid parcels of cabbage and apples. The apples are simply splendid. The cabbage is good, but I never cared very much for it—it is medicinal in this case. However, it is great to have such a fine supply of green stuff instead of none at all. The Mess does appreciate it.
"Just before heading into the trenches, I got another one of those amazing packages of cabbage and apples. The apples are absolutely delicious. The cabbage is decent, but I've never been a huge fan of it—it's more for health reasons in this case. Still, it's fantastic to have such a great stock of fresh veggies instead of nothing at all. The Mess really appreciates it."
"I have been supplying our Mess (C Company) with [ 29] butter. And the supply sent up to now has just effected this with none to spare. But I don't know whether you want to do this, and that is why I suggested cutting down the supply. I don't want you to think any of it has been wasted though—it hasn't, and is splendid stuff....
"I have been providing our Mess (C Company) with [ 29] butter. And the amount sent so far has just met our needs with nothing extra. But I’m not sure if you want to continue this, which is why I suggested reducing the supply. I don’t want you to think any of it has gone to waste—it hasn’t, and it’s really great stuff..."
"In the trenches one is not always doing nothing. These last three days in I have been up all night. I had a working party in two shifts working all night and all three nights, digging communication trenches. I used to go to bed about 4.20 a.m. and sleep till lunch-time, and perhaps lie down again for a bit in the afternoon. That is why my letters have not been so frequent.
"In the trenches, you’re not just sitting around. For the past three days, I’ve been up all night. I had a team working in two shifts throughout the night for all three nights, digging communication trenches. I would go to bed around 4:20 a.m., sleep until lunchtime, and maybe take a short nap in the afternoon. That’s why my letters haven’t been coming as often."
"It is extraordinary that what is wanted at the moment is not so much a soldier as a civil engineer. There are trenches to be laid out and dug, and the drainage of them to be thought out and carried through. Often the sides have to be 'riveted' or staked, and a flooring of boards put in, supported on small piles.
"It’s remarkable that what we really need right now isn’t so much a soldier but a civil engineer. There are trenches to plan and dig, and we need to come up with a drainage system for them and make it happen. Often, the sides have to be secured with stakes or rivets, and a flooring of boards needs to be installed, supported by small piles."
"Then there is the water-supply, where one exists. I have had great fun arranging a 'source' in my trench (the support trench that I have been in these last three days and that I have been in often before). A little stream, quite clear and drinkable after boiling, runs out at one place (at about 1 pint a minute!) and makes a muddy mess of the trenches near. By damming it up and putting a water-bottle with the bottom knocked in on top of the dam, the water runs in a little stream from the mouth of the bottle. It falls into a hole large enough to receive a stone water-jar, and then runs away down a deep trough cut beside the trench. Farther down it is again dammed up to form a small basin which the men use for washing; and it finally escapes into a kind of marshy pond in rear of the trenches.
"Then there’s the water supply, where there is one. I’ve had a lot of fun setting up a 'source' in my trench (the support trench I’ve been in for the last three days and often before). A little stream, quite clear and drinkable after boiling, flows out at one spot (about 1 pint a minute!) and makes a muddy mess of the nearby trenches. By damming it up and placing a water bottle with the bottom knocked out on top of the dam, the water trickles from the mouth of the bottle. It falls into a hole big enough for a stone water jar, and then flows away down a deep trough cut alongside the trench. Further down, it’s dammed up again to create a small basin that the men use for washing; and it finally drains into a sort of marshy pond behind the trenches."
"I quite enjoyed this job, and there are many like it; plank bridges to be put up, seats and steps to be cut, etc. One officer put half a dozen of his men on to making a folding bed! But it was not for himself, but for his Captain, who has meningitis and can't sleep. The men enjoy these jobs too; it is much better than doing nothing.
"I really liked this job, and there are plenty like it; putting up plank bridges, cutting seats and steps, and so on. One officer had half a dozen of his men making a folding bed! But it wasn't for him; it was for his Captain, who has meningitis and can't sleep. The men like these tasks as well; it's way better than doing nothing."
"I will creep back to my quarters now and make myself some tea on my 'Primus' (no fires are allowed).
"I'll sneak back to my room now and make myself some tea on my 'Primus' (no fires are allowed)."
"A cuckoo has been singing on a tree near me—in full [ 30] view. (It left hurriedly when one of our guns went off close behind the château.) The first time I have ever seen one, I think. It is amazing how tame the animals get. They have so much ground to themselves in the daytime—the rats especially; they flourish freely in the space between the trenches.
"A cuckoo has been singing in a tree nearby—right in [ 30] sight. (It took off quickly when one of our guns fired close to the château.) I think it's the first time I've ever seen one. It’s amazing how tame the animals are. They have so much space during the day—the rats especially; they thrive easily in the area between the trenches."
"Things are fairly quiet and easy here just now."
"Things are pretty quiet and relaxed here right now."
[In one of his letters to me (22 April 1915), he said he had
plenty of time now to watch the stars, and would like a set of
star maps or something in order to increase his knowledge of
them. Accordingly, I sent him a planisphere which I happened
to have—an ingenious cardboard arrangement which can be
turned so as to show, in a rough way, the stars visible in these
latitudes at any time of day and any period of the year.—O.
J. L.]
[In one of his letters to me (22 April 1915), he mentioned that he had plenty of time now to watch the stars and would like a set of star maps or something to improve his understanding of them. So, I sent him a planisphere that I had—an clever cardboard tool that can be turned to show, in a general way, the stars visible in these latitudes at any time of day and any season of the year.—O. J. L.]
"May Day 1915, 3.20 p.m.
"May Day 1915, 3:20 p.m.
"Thank you very much for the planisphere and for your letter. I have often seen the planisphere before, but never appreciated it until now.
"I really appreciate the planisphere and your letter. I’ve seen the planisphere before, but I never fully appreciated it until now."
"As to the 'Very' pistol, I quite agree that the 'barrel' is too short. If it were longer the light would be thrown farther, which would be much better. As it is, it falls between us and the Germans.
"Regarding the 'Very' pistol, I completely agree that the 'barrel' is too short. A longer one would allow the light to reach further, which would be much better. As it is, it falls short between us and the Germans."
"The German lights, which I now learn are fired from a kind of mortar and not by a rocket as I thought, are much better than ours; they give a better and steadier, fatter light, and they are thrown well behind our trenches. However, ours are much better, and theirs are worse than they used to be....
"The German lights, which I now realize are fired from a type of mortar rather than a rocket as I thought, are much better than ours; they give off a brighter, steadier, fuller light, and they are aimed well behind our trenches. However, ours are still better, and theirs aren't as good as they used to be...."
"They have not turned the gas on to us here, though on some days I have smelled distinct traces coming down wind from the north. I should say it was chlorine rather than SO2 that I smelled. I don't know whether the ammonia preventive would be better than the soda one. In any case, the great thing is that one is provided. The soda method is the one in use, I believe, in the chlorine works at Widnes and elsewhere."
"They haven't released gas for us here, but on some days I've noticed clear traces coming from the north. I should mention it was chlorine, not SO2, that I smelled. I'm not sure if the ammonia solution would work better than the soda one. Either way, the key thing is that there’s a solution available. I believe the soda method is currently used in the chlorine plants at Widnes and other locations."
"Tuesday, 3 May 1915, 12.40 p.m.
Tuesday, May 3, 1915, 12:40 PM
"For the first three days we are out here in new billets—officers in a comfortable little house. Last three days of our 'rest' (!) we are going into a wood quite close [ 31] to our 'Reserve Billets.' We are in 'support' in case of a sudden attack. Roads are so much knocked about by shells that traffic is limited and restricted. So we might not be able to support quick enough unless we were close.
"For the first three days, we're in a new place—officers staying in a cozy little house. For the last three days of our 'rest' (!), we’re moving into a forest very close to our 'Reserve Billets.' We're on 'support' in case there’s a sudden attack. The roads are so badly damaged by shells that traffic is limited and restricted. So we might not be able to provide support quickly enough unless we’re nearby."
"Everything is still very much upset, due to the penetration of our (French) line. They have been shelling our village from the rear (!) and most of the companies have had to quit. We (C Company) are well back now....
"Everything is still really chaotic because our (French) line has been breached. They've been bombarding our village from behind (!) and most of the companies have had to pull out. We (C Company) are safely back now....
"Two of our platoons went digging last night. Mine was one. We left here about eight o'clock, and I got back at 1 a.m., and then I sat up with another subaltern (Fletcher) after I had had some supper until the other man (Thomas) had come in and eaten. We went to bed at 3 a.m. Breakfast at nine this morning, and we are resting. However, I am going to have an absolutely slack day to-day. A bath too, if I can manage it....
"Two of our platoons went digging last night. Mine was one of them. We left here around eight o'clock and got back at 1 a.m. After having some supper, I stayed up with another subaltern, Fletcher, until the other guy, Thomas, came in to eat. We went to bed at 3 a.m. Breakfast was at nine this morning, and we are resting. However, I'm planning to have a completely relaxed day today. A bath too, if I can manage it...."
"Last night the moon got up very late and was quite useless. They fire more when there is no light, they get scared—at least uneasy; they fire off 'Very' lights constantly, and let off volleys. We lie absolutely flat while this goes on. It is a funny sight; the men look like a row of starfish!"
"Last night the moon rose really late and wasn’t much help. They fire more when it’s dark; they get scared—at least a bit uneasy; they keep lighting flares, and there are bursts of gunfire. We lie completely flat during all of this. It’s a funny sight; the guys look like a line of starfish!"
"Tuesday, 11 May 1915, 9.15 a.m.
(really Wednesday the 12th. I had got wrong)
"Tuesday, May 11, 1915, 9:15 a.m.
(actually Wednesday the 12th. I made a mistake)"We are within view of a well-known place [no doubt Ypres.—O. J. L.], and the place has been on fire in three or four places for about two days, and is still going strong. A magnificent spectacle at night. The place is, I believe, a city of ruins and dead, and there is probably no one to put a fire out. Probably, too, a fire is rather a good thing than otherwise; the place must be terribly in need of purifying.
"We can see a famous location [likely Ypres.—O. J. L.], and it’s been burning in three or four spots for about two days now, and it’s still raging. It’s an impressive sight at night. I think it’s a city of ruins and death, and there’s probably no one around to put out the flames. Also, a fire might be more of a blessing than a curse; the place really needs to be cleansed."
"I was awfully interested in father's dream.[3] Your letter is dated the 8th, and you say that the other night he dreamt that I was in the thick of the fighting, but that they were taking care of me from the other side.
"Well, I don't know about 'the thick of the fighting,' but I have been through what I can only describe as a hell of a shelling with shrapnel. My diary tells me it was [ 32] on the 7th, at about 10.15 a.m. Our Company were ordered forward from one set of dug-outs to others nearer the firing line, and the formation adopted was platoons in single file, with intervals between. That is, four columns of about fifty men each, in single file, with about 20 to 50 yards between each column. I was the third platoon, though I was not with my own but with No. 9. Fletcher brought up the last one, thus:—
"Well, I can't say I know what 'the thick of the fighting' is like, but I've experienced what I can only describe as a hellish bombardment with shrapnel. My diary notes it was [ 32] on the 7th, around 10:15 a.m. Our Company was ordered to move forward from one set of dugouts to others closer to the front line, and we lined up in platoons in single file, keeping distance between us. That meant four columns of about fifty men each, arranged in single file, with about 20 to 50 yards of space between each column. I was in the third platoon, but I wasn’t with my own; I was with No. 9. Fletcher led the last one like this:—
(My platoon is No. 11.—No. 9's platoon commander, Laws, is in England on sick leave, as his nerves are all wrong.)
(My platoon is No. 11. The commander of No. 9's platoon, Laws, is in England on sick leave because he's struggling mentally.)
"Well, anyhow, we had not gone far before the gunners saw us, and an aeroplane was flying along above and with us. They sent over some 'Johnsons,' but these all went too far; we were screened by a reservoir embankment. However, we had to pass through a ruined village and they knew it, so they put shrapnel over it. Still we were unaffected. But when we came out into the open on the far side, we caught it properly. Shell after shell came over and burst above us, and when I and about three men behind me had just turned a corner one burst above, in exactly the spot I should have wished it to if I had been the enemy. I looked up and saw the air full of flying pieces, some large and some small. These spattered down all round us. I was untouched, but my servant, who was immediately behind me, was hit on the knee, but only wounded slightly. He was rather scared. I led him back round the corner again and put him in a ditch. The rest of the platoon got in too, while I was doing this. I thought that was the best thing they could do until the shelling ceased, but Fletcher shouted that we must get on, whatever happened.
"Anyway, we hadn't gone far when the gunners spotted us, and an airplane was flying overhead. They dropped some shells, but they all landed too far away; we were protected by a reservoir embankment. Still, we had to go through a ruined village, and they were aware of it, so they targeted it with shrapnel. We managed to stay safe. But when we emerged into the open on the other side, we really came under fire. Shell after shell flew over us and exploded above, and just as I turned a corner with about three guys behind me, one exploded right above us, exactly where I would have aimed if I were the enemy. I looked up and saw pieces flying through the air, some big, some small. They rained down all around us. I was okay, but my servant, who was right behind me, got hit in the knee, though it was a minor wound. He was pretty scared. I guided him back around the corner and put him in a ditch. The rest of the platoon piled in too while I was doing this. I thought that was the best move until the shelling stopped, but Fletcher yelled that we had to keep moving, no matter what."
"So I called the men out again, and, leaving a man with the wounded, we set off. I don't believe it was right, but we just walked along. It felt rather awful. (When one is retiring it is important not to let the men 'double,' as they get out of hand; but in this case we were advancing, so I think we might have done so.) I felt very [ 33] much protected. It was really a miracle that we weren't nearly all 'wiped out.' The shrapnel seemed very poor stuff. As it was, we had one man killed and about five or six injured, all more or less slightly.
"So I called the men out again, and after leaving one man with the wounded, we set out. I don't think it was the right decision, but we just kept walking. It felt pretty awful. (When you're retreating, it's crucial not to let the men 'double' up, as they can become uncontrollable; but in this situation, we were moving forward, so I think we could have done better.) I felt very [ 33] protected. It was honestly a miracle that we weren't nearly all 'taken out.' The shrapnel seemed really ineffective. As it turned out, we had one man killed and about five or six injured, all more or less lightly.
"We moved up into a support trench that same evening, and after a couple of days we moved a few yards farther to these trenches, which are also support trenches. Things are very quiet, and I am enjoying myself very much. If it wasn't for the unpleasant sights one is liable to see, war would be a most interesting and pleasant affair.
"We moved up into a support trench that same evening, and after a couple of days, we moved a few yards further to these trenches, which are also support trenches. Things are really quiet, and I'm having a great time. If it weren't for the unpleasant sights you might see, war would be a really interesting and enjoyable experience."
"My friends the other officers of C Company have given me the honorary position of 'O.C. Works.' One is always 'O.C. something or other' out here—all but the Colonel, he is 'C.O.' Orders for the day read: "O.C. Companies will do so-and-so.' Then there are O.C. Details, O.C. Reinforcements, etc. 'O.C.' of course stands for 'officer commanding.' Well, I am 'O.C. Works,' and have a fine time. I just do any job I fancy, giving preference to trench improvement. It is fine to have at one's disposal a large squad of men with shovels (or without). They fill sandbags and carry them, they carry timber and saw it, and in short do anything that is required. One can accomplish something under these conditions."
"My friends, the other officers of C Company, have given me the honorary title of 'O.C. Works.' Out here, everyone is always 'O.C. something or other'—except for the Colonel, who is just 'C.O.' Today's orders say: 'O.C. Companies will do so-and-so.' Then there are O.C. Details, O.C. Reinforcements, and so on. 'O.C.' stands for 'officer commanding.' Well, I'm 'O.C. Works,' and I'm having a great time. I just pick any job I like, focusing mainly on trench improvement. It's fantastic to have a large group of men with shovels (or without) at my disposal. They fill sandbags and carry them, they haul timber and saw it, and basically do anything that's needed. Under these circumstances, you can really get things done."
"6 p.m.
"6 p.m."
"We have been told that we are being relieved to-night, and that we are going back to our old place (No. 2). So everything should be as before, once we are back. We may not manage to get all the way back to-night, as we cannot travel by daylight as most of the road is under direct observation. If daylight catches us we shall encamp in dug-outs en route.
"We've been told that we're being relieved tonight and heading back to our old spot (No. 2). So, everything should go back to the way it was once we return. We might not make it all the way back tonight since we can't travel during the day because most of the road is under direct observation. If daylight catches us, we'll set up camp in dugouts along the way."
"I am rather disappointed that we are going to-night, as Fletcher and I were going to rebuild our dug-out here. We both got very keen indeed and had laid out the plan carefully. (He has been an architect.)
"I’m pretty bummed that we're leaving tonight, as Fletcher and I were planning to rebuild our dugout here. We both got really into it and had carefully laid out the plan. (He was an architect.)"
"I had another disappointment when I was back in the wood (as supports). It reminds me of one of our Quartermaster-Sergeants in Edinburgh. He is an Irishman, O'Brien. I found him on the platform while we were waiting to see a draft off; he looked very despondent. I [ 34] asked him how he was, and was surprised when he replied, 'I've had a reverse, sorr!' It turned out that he had applied to headquarters for an improvement in his position, and was told he didn't deserve any. It had almost broken his heart!
"I felt another letdown when I was back in the woods (as supports). It reminded me of one of our Quartermaster Sergeants in Edinburgh. He’s an Irishman, O'Brien. I found him on the platform while we were waiting to send off a draft; he looked really downcast. I [ 34] asked him how he was doing, and I was surprised when he replied, 'I've had a setback, sir!' It turned out that he had asked headquarters for a better position, and they told him he didn't deserve any. It nearly broke his heart!"
"Well, I had a reverse. I was given the job of building a hut and was nearly through with it when we were ordered away. If we get back to the old wood again I shall go on with it, in spite of whatever the present tenants may have done in the way of completing it (our guns are now 'going at it' hammer and tongs).
"Well, I had a setback. I was assigned to build a hut and was almost done when we were told to leave. If we return to the old woods, I’ll keep working on it, no matter what the current occupants have done to finish it (our guns are now 'going at it' hammer and tongs)."
"I did enjoy laying the sandbags and building a proper wall with 'headers' and 'stretchers.' I got a very good testimonial too, for the Sergeant asked me in all seriousness whether I was a brick-setter in civil life. I was awfully proud.
"I really enjoyed stacking the sandbags and building a solid wall with 'headers' and 'stretchers.' I even got a great compliment because the Sergeant asked me seriously if I was a bricklayer in real life. I was incredibly proud.
"Later
"Later
"(I had to leave off here because we were ordered to 'fire-rapid' in between periods of our artillery fire, and I had to turn out to watch.)"
"(I had to pause here because we were instructed to 'fire quickly' between our artillery shots, and I needed to go outside to observe.)"
NOTE BY O. J. L.
The dream referred to, near the beginning of this long letter to his mother, Mr. J. Arthur Hill remembers that I told him of, in a letter dated 7 May 1915, which he has now returned; and I reproduce it here:—
The dream mentioned at the start of this long letter to his mother, Mr. J. Arthur Hill recalls that I told him about it in a letter dated May 7, 1915, which he has now returned; and I’m sharing it here:—
"To J. A. H.
"To J. A. H.
"7 May 1915
"7 May 1915
"I do not reckon that I often have conscious intuitions; and when I have had vivid dreams they have not meant anything, though once or twice I have recorded them because I have them seldom. I happen, however, to have had an intuition this morning, before I was more than half awake, which, though not specially vivid, perhaps I had better record, namely, that an attack was going on at the present moment, that my son was in it, but that 'they' were taking care of him. I had this clearly in mind before seeing the morning papers; and indeed I do not know that there is anything in the morning papers suggesting it, since of course their news is comparatively old. One might have surmised, however, that there would be a struggle for Hill 60, and I know that my son is not far off Ypres. (By the way, I have been told that the Flemish Belgians really do call it 'Wipers'; it does not sound likely, and it needs confirmation. I know of course that our troops are said to call it so, which is natural enough.) O. J. L."
"I don't think I often have conscious intuitions, and when I have vivid dreams, they haven't meant much. Still, a couple of times, I've written them down because they’re rare. However, this morning, I had a feeling, before I was fully awake, that while it wasn't particularly vivid, I should probably note it: there was an attack happening right now, that my son was involved, but 'they' were watching out for him. I clearly had this thought in mind before checking the morning papers, and honestly, I don't think there's anything in them that indicates that, since the news is quite old. One might have assumed there’d be a conflict for Hill 60, and I know my son is not far from Ypres. (By the way, I've heard that the Flemish Belgians do actually call it 'Wipers'; that seems unlikely and needs verification. Of course, I know our troops are said to call it that, which makes sense.) O. J. L."
I now (August 1916) notice for the first time that the coincidence in time between dream and fact is rather good, especially as it was the only dream or 'impression' that I remember having during the war. Practically I do not dream.
I now (August 1916) notice for the first time that the timing between my dream and reality is quite accurate, especially since it was the only dream or 'impression' I can recall having during the war. I hardly ever dream.
But as this incident raises the question of possible presentiment I must deny that we had any serious presentiment about Raymond. My wife tells me that her anxiety about Raymond, though always present, was hardly keen, as she had an idea that he would be protected. She wrote to a friend on 22 March 1915:—
But since this incident brings up the idea of possible intuition, I have to say that we didn't really have any strong feelings about Raymond. My wife says that her worry for Raymond, although always there, wasn't very intense because she felt he would be safe. She wrote to a friend on March 22, 1915:—
"... I ought to get him back safe. I have a hole in my heart and shall have till he comes back. I only saw him for the inside of an hour before he left, as I was away when he came home for six hours...."
"... I need to ensure he comes back safe. I have a hole in my heart and will feel like this until he returns. I only saw him for about an hour before he left, since I was away for six hours when he got home...."
At the same time I must admit that on the morning of 15 September 1915 (the day after Raymond's death, which we did not know of till the 17th) I was in an exceptional state of depression; and though a special game, to which I had been looking forward, on the No. 1 Course at Gullane had been arranged with Rowland Waterhouse, I could not play a bit. Not ordinary bad play, but total incompetence; so much so that after seven holes we gave up the game, and returned to the hotel. To make sure of the date, I wrote to Rowland Waterhouse, asking him when that abortive match occurred, since I knew that it was his last day at Gullane. He replies:—
At the same time, I have to admit that on the morning of September 15, 1915 (the day after Raymond's death, which we didn't find out about until the 17th), I was in an unusually deep state of depression; and even though I had a special game lined up with Rowland Waterhouse at the No. 1 Course in Gullane that I had been looking forward to, I couldn’t play at all. It wasn’t just bad play; it was total incompetence. So much so that after seven holes, we decided to quit and head back to the hotel. To confirm the date, I wrote to Rowland Waterhouse, asking him when that unsuccessful match took place, since I knew it was his last day at Gullane. He replied:—
"Violet and I left Gullane for Musselburgh on Wednesday, 15 September. Our final match ended that morning on the eighth tee" [which that year was on the reservoir hill].
"Violet and I left Gullane for Musselburgh on Wednesday, 15 September. Our last match wrapped up that morning on the eighth tee" [which that year was on the reservoir hill].
One more dream I may as well now mention:—
One more dream I might as well mention now:—
After the family had returned home from Scotland and elsewhere, near the end of September 1915, and begun to settle down, Alec, who had felt Raymond's death exceedingly, told me that the night before he heard the news—or rather the early morning of the same day, 17 September—he had had an extraordinarily painful and vivid dream, quite an exceptional occurrence for him, and one of which he had spoken to a manageress in the hotel near Swansea where he was staying, describing it as the worst he had ever had in his life. He did not know that it had any significance, and neither do I, as the dream, though rather ghastly, was not about Raymond or anyone in particular; but it seemed an odd coincidence that the ill news should be, so to speak, on the way, at the time of a quite exceptional and painful impression. The person to whom he told the dream handed him the telegram a few hours later. He has written the dream down, but it need not be reproduced.
After the family got back home from Scotland and other places, around the end of September 1915, and started to settle in, Alec, who had been deeply affected by Raymond's death, told me that the night before he received the news—or rather, in the early morning of the same day, September 17—he had an incredibly painful and vivid dream, which was quite unusual for him. He had mentioned it to a manageress at the hotel near Swansea where he was staying, describing it as the worst dream he had ever experienced. He didn't realize it had any significance, and neither do I, since the dream, although pretty grim, wasn’t specifically about Raymond or anyone in particular. It just seemed like a strange coincidence that the bad news was on its way at the same time he had such an intense and painful experience. The person he had told about the dream handed him the telegram a few hours later. He has written the dream down, but there’s no need to share it.
No real provision is involved in any of this, unless it be that of an hour or two in my own impression, in May; but for general remarks on the question of the possibility of prevision Chapter V in Part III may be referred to.
No actual preparation is involved in any of this, unless it's just a couple of hours in my own thoughts back in May; but for general comments on the issue of whether predicting the future is possible, see Chapter V in Part III.
"Friday, 14 May 1915
"Friday, 14 May 1915
"I had a glorious hot bath yesterday; Fletcher and I went up to the brewery here. The bath is zinc, and full length, and we have as much water, and as hot, as we like....
"I had an amazing hot bath yesterday; Fletcher and I went to the local brewery. The bath is made of zinc, it's full-length, and we have as much hot water as we want....
"I spent some time too stemming the leaks in the roof of our shed. With my two waterproof sheets I have rigged up a kind of chute above my bed, so that any water that comes through the roof is led down behind my head. I don't know what happens to it there. I thought of leading it across on to the man next me, as the Germans used to do in the winter campaign. They fitted a pump in their trenches and led the delivery pipe forward, so that the water used to run into ours—only the plan was discovered....
"I spent some time fixing the leaks in the roof of our shed. With my two waterproof sheets, I created a kind of chute above my bed, so any water that comes through the roof is channeled down behind my head. I have no idea where it goes from there. I thought about directing it onto the guy next to me, like the Germans did in the winter campaign. They set up a pump in their trenches and ran a pipe forward so the water would flow into ours—until they got caught....
"I wonder if you saw the appreciation of the soda cake on the back of my letter from the woods. M.P. stands for Mess President. Fletcher was M.P. and was a very good one. I am now, as he has done it for a long time and is tired....
"I wonder if you saw the compliment for the soda cake on the back of my letter from the woods. M.P. stands for Mess President. Fletcher was M.P. and did a great job. Now I'm doing it since he has been for a long time and is worn out...."
"As cheerful and well and happy as ever. Don't think I am having a rotten time—I am not."
"As cheerful, healthy, and happy as ever. Don't think I'm having a terrible time—I'm not."
"Sunday, 5.40 p.m., 16 May 1915
Sunday, 5:40 PM, May 16, 1915
"We had a very fine piece of news yesterday. Over three weeks ago we were called out one night and were urgently required to dig a certain new trench behind our lines. The men worked splendidly and got the job done in a very short time (working of course in complete darkness). The next day the Brigadier-General inspected the trench and sent in a complimentary message about it to our Colonel. The day after he complimented us again—for the same piece of work! Well, we have had several such jobs to do, and just recently we have been to Hill 60, where the bulk of our work was deepening the trenches and improving the parapets. We were lent for this purpose to another Division (the Division that is at the moment occupying that area), and were away from here exactly a week. We got a splendid testimonial from the General of this other Division, who told our Colonel he had got 'a top-hole battalion.' Arising out of all this, we have now [ 37] been selected as a 'Pioneer Battalion,' We are relieved from all ordinary trench work for some time to come. We simply go out at night and dig trenches or build parapets and so forth, and have the day to ourselves. This was arranged yesterday, and last night we went out and returned here at 1.30 a.m. The work is more or less under fire, but only from stray shots and nothing very serious. Our Colonel is awfully pleased that we have done so well; and we are all pleased with the new arrangement. One great advantage is that we can settle down in our billets and are not continually having to pack up everything and move off. We can now start and make tables, chairs, beds, a proper door for the hut, a glass window, and so on....
"We got some really great news yesterday. Over three weeks ago, we were called out one night and urgently needed to dig a new trench behind our lines. The men did an amazing job and finished it quickly (working, of course, in complete darkness). The next day, the Brigadier-General inspected the trench and sent a compliment about it to our Colonel. The day after that, he praised us again—for the same work! Well, we've had several similar tasks, and just recently we went to Hill 60, where most of our work involved deepening the trenches and improving the parapets. We were assigned to another Division (the one currently in that area) for this job and were gone for exactly a week. We received an excellent testimonial from the General of that Division, who told our Colonel he had a 'top-notch battalion.' As a result, we have now been selected as a 'Pioneer Battalion.' We're relieved from all regular trench work for the near future. We just go out at night to dig trenches or build parapets, and we have the day to ourselves. This was arranged yesterday, and last night we went out and returned here at 1:30 a.m. The work is somewhat under fire, but only from stray shots and nothing too serious. Our Colonel is really pleased with how well we've done, and we’re all happy with the new arrangement. One big advantage is that we can settle down in our billets and aren’t constantly packing everything up and moving. Now we can start making tables, chairs, beds, a proper door for the hut, a glass window, and more..."
"As to aeroplanes, when one passes overhead a whistle is blown and every one either takes cover or stands perfectly still. The men are forbidden to look up. Then the whistle is blown several times when the danger is past. I am afraid, though, these regulations are more honoured in the breach than the observance.
"As for airplanes, when one flies overhead, a whistle is blown and everyone either hides or stands completely still. The men aren’t allowed to look up. Then the whistle is blown several times when the danger is over. I’m afraid, though, these rules are often ignored more than followed."
"We had quite a nice informal service here this afternoon sitting in a field. The chaplain has the rank of Major and has been out here seven months.
"We had a really nice informal service here this afternoon sitting in a field. The chaplain is a Major and has been out here for seven months."
"Yesterday the Captain, Fletcher, and myself went for a ride on horses. We went about five miles out, stopped for about twenty minutes at a little inn (the last in Belgium on that particular road), and then came back again. The country was perfectly lovely, though I did not appreciate it as much as I otherwise would have done, as I had a trooper's saddle and the Captain would trot. I got most awfully sore going out, and thought I should never be able to get back. However, I discovered a method at last, and that was to go at a full gallop. So I alternately went at a walk and 'hell for leather,' and got back in comparative comfort. I thoroughly enjoyed it; it was very bad for the horse, I am afraid, on the stone setts (pavé), but sometimes I could get him on to the softer bits at the side. I was terribly afraid some one would think the horse was running away with me and 'block' him, so I had to look as pleased as possible. And really I was pleased, it was such a blessed relief after that awful trotting. I trotted along in rear of the other two until I could stand it no [ 38] longer, and then I encouraged my nag and hit him until he broke into a canter, and then I roared past the others, who cursed like anything because theirs wanted to gallop too. My horse's cantor changed imperceptibly into a full gallop, and I 'got down to it' and felt like a jockey. After about half a mile I would walk until the others came up and passed me, and then I would go off again. All the same, I am very sore.
"Yesterday, the Captain, Fletcher, and I went for a horseback ride. We went about five miles out, stopped for around twenty minutes at a little inn (the last one in Belgium on that road), and then headed back. The scenery was absolutely beautiful, though I didn’t enjoy it as much as I could have because I had a trooper's saddle and the Captain kept trotting. I got really sore on the way out and thought I wouldn’t make it back. However, I finally figured out a trick: I just went full gallop. So I alternated between walking and going as fast as I could, and somehow made it back in relative comfort. I had a great time; I’m afraid it was hard on the horse with the cobblestones (pavé), but I sometimes managed to get him on the softer paths at the sides. I was really worried someone might think the horse was running away with me and try to stop him, so I had to look as happy as possible. And honestly, I was pleased; it was such a relief after that awful trotting. I trotted behind the others until I couldn’t take it anymore, and then I encouraged my horse and gave him a nudge until he broke into a canter, roaring past the others, who were swearing because their horses wanted to gallop too. My horse's canter smoothly turned into a full gallop, and I really got into it, feeling like a jockey. After about half a mile, I would walk until the others caught up and passed me, and then I'd take off again. Still, I'm pretty sore."
"Good-bye for the present; it is lovely hot weather and we are all well—fit—and happy."
"See you later for now; the weather is beautifully warm, and we're all doing well—healthy—and happy."
"Tuesday, 18 May 1915, 5.15 p.m.
Tuesday, May 18, 1915, 5:15 PM.
"My dear Norah and Barbara,—I don't expect I am far wrong in attributing my ripping present of dates and figs to you two. I did enjoy them, and they are not finished yet.
"Dear Norah and Barbara,—I’m pretty sure the wonderful gift of dates and figs came from you two. I really enjoyed them, and I still have some left."
"They arrived by the first post after we had returned from our little trip. We were at Hill 60; it was so interesting and rather exciting, although we were there chiefly, I think, to improve the trenches, which were very shallow and dangerous when we arrived.
"They arrived in the first mail after we returned from our short trip. We were at Hill 60; it was really interesting and quite thrilling, though I think we were mainly there to improve the trenches, which were very shallow and dangerous when we arrived."
"The men worked splendidly—all night and most of the day, and, when we left, the trenches were vastly improved and quite habitable. We also made some entirely new ones. We are now kept for this sort of job only, and we go out working at nights and sleep by day.
"The guys worked incredibly hard—all night and most of the day, and by the time we left, the trenches were much better and fairly livable. We also built some completely new ones. We’re currently only assigned to this type of work, going out at night and sleeping during the day."
"I must explain to you about 'standing to.' A proportion of the men are always awake in the trenches to guard against surprises, for as the most likely times for an attack are at dawn and at dusk, everybody has to be awake and ready then. Of course it does interfere with your sleep, and you do not get very much as a rule in the trenches, but that is why you are not there for more than about three days at a time. In the 'supports' you 'stand to' so as to be ready to reinforce the front line quickly in case of an attack. Out in 'Rest Billets,' I am glad to say, it is no longer necessary.
"I should explain 'standing to' to you. A portion of the soldiers is always awake in the trenches to guard against surprises, since dawn and dusk are the most likely times for an attack, so everyone has to be alert and ready then. Of course, it disrupts your sleep, and you usually don’t get much rest in the trenches, but that’s why you’re not there for more than about three days at a time. In the 'supports,' you 'stand to' so you can quickly reinforce the front line if there’s an attack. Thankfully, out in the 'Rest Billets,' it’s no longer necessary."
"I am so sorry, my friend Fletcher has just gone off this morning for a rest cure. I shall miss him awfully. He is about five miles away and I am going to ride over to-morrow to see him. But later on he will probably go back to England. His nerves are all wrong and he needs a rest,
"I’m really sorry, my friend Fletcher just left this morning for a rest cure. I’m going to miss him a lot. He’s about five miles away, and I plan to ride over tomorrow to see him. But eventually, he’ll probably go back to England. His nerves are all shot, and he needs a break."
"Good-bye for now, and very best wishes to you both.—Your very loving brother,
"Talk to you later, and all the best to you both.—Your loving brother,
Raymond"
Raymond"
"I hope you get my communiqués regularly from home (swank). Some one must have the time of their lives copying out all the stuff I write. I hope, however, there are a few grains in the bundle of chaff (I'm fishing again)!
"I hope you get my updates regularly from home (luxury). Someone must really enjoy copying everything I write. I hope there are a few gems among the junk (I’m searching again)!
"You say, Norah, that you don't think the château was as quiet as I described. Well, provided I mentioned our gun, that went off at occasional intervals close behind it with a terrific report, it was just as I described—a peaceful summer afternoon. I know that people think that everything in Belgium is chaos and slaughter, but it isn't so. For instance, where Fletcher is, is a charming country place with trees and fields and everything in full green. Simply ripping. If I had only had a motor-cycle to see it from instead of a trotting horse I should have enjoyed it even more!
"You mention, Norah, that you don’t think the château was as quiet as I described. Well, considering our gun, which went off at random intervals nearby with a huge bang, it really was as peaceful as I said—a quiet summer afternoon. I know people believe that everything in Belgium is chaos and slaughter, but that’s not the case. For instance, where Fletcher is, there’s a beautiful countryside spot with trees and fields, everything lush and green. Absolutely amazing. If only I had a motorcycle to explore it instead of a trotting horse, I would have enjoyed it even more!"
R."
R."
"Wednesday, 19 May 1915, 12.50 p.m.
Wednesday, May 19, 1915, 12:50 PM
"You must know that we have now only three officers in our Company. I am very sorry indeed to lose Fletcher. He went off for a rest cure yesterday morning to a place about five miles from here. He is my greatest friend in the Battalion, so I miss him very much and hope he won't be long away. He will probably go back to England, however, as his nerves are all wrong. He is going the same way as Laws did and needs a complete rest. I am going to ride over to see him this afternoon with the Captain. I am afraid it won't be 'good going' as the roads are thick with mud. The slightest rain, and they are as bad as ever.
"You should know that we only have three officers left in our Company now. I’m really sad to see Fletcher go. He left yesterday morning for some time off at a place about five miles away. He’s my closest friend in the Battalion, so I miss him a lot and hope he won’t be away for long. He’ll probably head back to England since his nerves are all shot. He’s in the same position as Laws was and needs a complete break. I’m planning to ride over to see him this afternoon with the Captain. I’m worried it won't be easy since the roads are really muddy. Even a little rain makes them awful."
"I told you that I was Mess President (M.P.). I am sure you would smile to see me ordering the meals, and inspecting the joints. I don't know anything about them, and when the cook calls me up specially to view a joint I have hastily to decide whether he means me to disparage it—or the reverse. However, I am usually safe in running it down."
"I mentioned that I’m the Mess President (M.P.). You’d probably laugh if you saw me trying to order meals and check the meat. I don’t really know much about it, and when the cook calls me to look at a piece of meat, I have to quickly decide if he wants me to criticize it or praise it. Still, I usually play it safe by being negative about it."
"Thursday, 20 May 1915, 9.10 a.m.
Thursday, May 20, 1915, 9:10 a.m.
"We rode over and saw Fletcher yesterday and had tea with him. He is with about twenty other similar cases [ 40] in a splendid château (this one is not ruined and has magnificent grounds). Unfortunately this is probably the very worst possible treatment he could have. He has nothing to do, no interest in anything, and no society except people who, like himself, want cheering. He does not read, he does not even walk about the grounds. He cannot sleep much, and he said he did not know exactly what he did. Under these conditions I know it will not be long before he is sent home. Brooding is just the very worst thing for him. He sees all the past horrors all over again; things which, at the time, he shut his mind to. The best treatment (even better than home, I think) would be to send him back for a month or so to Crosby. He would then have plenty to occupy his mind and would have cheerful companions...."
"We visited Fletcher yesterday and had tea with him. He's there with about twenty other similar cases [ 40] in a beautiful château (which isn't ruined and has amazing grounds). Unfortunately, this is probably the worst treatment for him. He has nothing to do, no interest in anything, and no company except for others who, like him, need encouragement. He doesn’t read, and he doesn’t even walk around the grounds. He can't sleep much, and he said he really doesn’t know how he spends his time. Given these conditions, I know it won't be long before they send him home. Brooding is the worst thing for him. He keeps reliving all the past horrors; things he tried to ignore before. The best treatment (even better than being home, I think) would be to send him back to Crosby for a month or so. That way, he would have plenty to keep his mind busy and would be around cheerful companions...."
"6.20 p.m.
"6:20 p.m.
"I have attached a list of a few slang terms and curious expressions in use in this Regiment and I believe universal at the moment. Some of these are amazing, and it is difficult to trace the origin. 'Drumming up' is one, and 'wind up' another. I saw an old Belgian cart yesterday, a three-wheeled affair. It had been overturned on its side and the spokes of the lowest wheel had been broken. Well, some one had 'drummed up' on them—every one had disappeared. These men here will 'drum up' on anything. 'Drumming up' on a thing does not mean lighting a fire on it but with it.
"I’ve attached a list of some slang terms and interesting expressions used in this Regiment that I think are quite common these days. Some of these are really intriguing, and it's tough to trace their origins. 'Drumming up' is one, and 'wind up' is another. I saw an old Belgian cart yesterday, a three-wheeled one. It was tipped over on its side, and the spokes of the bottom wheel were broken. Well, someone had 'drummed up' on them—everyone had vanished. These guys here will 'drum up' on anything. 'Drumming up' on something doesn’t mean lighting a fire on it but with it."
"When we were at that place where we were for a week, there was a most peculiar state of affairs. The Germans were holding a small piece of trench joining, and in line with, ours. They were only separated from us by double barricades—their and ours. They corresponded to the meat in a sandwich. [A sketch is omitted.] When I say 'ours' I mean the English. I was not actually in this trench, but in the one just behind. The trench on one side of the 'meat' was held by one of our Companies, and the other by another Regiment...."
"When we were at that place for a week, it was a really odd situation. The Germans were holding a small section of trench that was connected to ours. They were only separated from us by two barricades—ours and theirs. They were like the filling in a sandwich. [A sketch is omitted.] When I say 'ours,' I mean the English. I wasn't actually in this trench but in the one just behind it. The trench on one side of the 'filling' was held by one of our Companies, and the other side was held by another Regiment...."
"Friday, 10.20 a.m.
"Friday, 10:20 a.m.
"My nickname in the Mess is 'Maurice' (with a French pronunciation); I am called after the small boy in the grocery shop here. The good dame always says 'Oui, [ 41] monsieur le lieutenant!' 'Non, monsieur le lieutenant!' to everything one says; she gets in about six to the minute. Well, we used to imitate her after our visits to the shop, and one day she called out 'Maurice'; so Fletcher calls me 'Maurice,' and I reply, 'Oui, monsieur le lieutenant.'"
"My nickname in the Mess is 'Maurice' (said with a French accent); I'm named after the little boy in the grocery store here. The nice lady always says 'Oui, [ 41] monsieur le lieutenant!' 'Non, monsieur le lieutenant!' to everything we say; she responds about six times a minute. We used to mimic her after our trips to the store, and one day she called out 'Maurice'; so now Fletcher calls me 'Maurice,' and I reply, 'Oui, monsieur le lieutenant.'"
SOME MILITARY TERMS
| Water Party | A fatigue party carrying water. |
| To wrap up | (to rhyme with 'pinned up')—To be uneasy, 'on edge.' |
| Rallying support | Making a fire for the purpose of warming food. |
| UK | England. |
| A British Wound | A wound that necessitates invaliding home. |
| Pucca | Real, genuine. |
| Gather up | A short period of considerable firing in the trenches. |
| Dugout | A cramped dwelling-place, usually above ground. |
| Stand up | An hour of preparedness at dawn and at dusk when every one is |
| awake and wears his equipment (in trenches and supports | |
| only). | |
| Stand down | The finish of 'stand-to.' |
| Knife Rests | Barbed wire in sections. |
| Comfortable | A 'soft' thing. |
| To Take Sick | To report oneself ill to the doctor. |
| To get straight to it | To lie down, go to bed. |
| Complaining or Whining | Complaining. |
| 20.5.15 | R. L. |
[To a Brother]
"26 May 1915
"May 26, 1915
"I expect you have read it, but I want to recommend to you Simon Dale, by Anthony Hope.
"I assume you've read it, but I want to recommend Simon Dale by Anthony Hope."
"We had the gas over here on Monday morning about 3 or 4 a.m. Although it was coming from a point about four miles away, as we learnt afterwards, it was very strong and made our eyes smart very much.
"We had gas over here on Monday morning around 3 or 4 a.m. Even though it was coming from about four miles away, as we later found out, it was really strong and made our eyes burn a lot."
"We have got hold of some liqueurs from Railhead, a large bottle of Chartreuse and one of Curaçao.
"We got some liqueurs from Railhead, a big bottle of Chartreuse and one of Curaçao."
"Good-bye and good luck."
"Goodbye and good luck."
"Saturday, 29 May 1915, 8.30 p.m.
Saturday, May 29, 1915, 8:30 PM
"We have again done a little move, this time with bag [ 42] and baggage. We are now on the outskirts of 'No. 1,' and due west of it. The men have built themselves dug-outs along a hedge and we (C Coy. officers) are installed in an untouched château. Quite comfortable. Fine lofty rooms. We only use part of the house. We have the kitchen, and a large dining-room on the ground floor. We sleep upstairs on the first floor (our valise on hay). At least, Thomas and I do, the Captain and Case have moved down and sleep on large fat palliasses in the dining-room! We have the rest of the house empty to ourselves to-night, but various headquarter staffs seem to come in turn and occupy two of the other ground floor rooms occasionally.
“We’ve moved again, this time with all our gear. We’re now on the edge of ‘No. 1,’ directly west of it. The men have dug some trenches along a hedge, and we (the officers of C Company) are settled in an untouched château. It’s pretty comfortable, with nice high ceilings. We only use part of the house: we have the kitchen and a large dining room on the ground floor. We sleep upstairs on the first floor (our bags on hay). At least, that’s true for Thomas and me; the Captain and Case are downstairs and sleep on big, soft mattresses in the dining room! We have the rest of the house to ourselves tonight, but different headquarters teams seem to come by and take over two of the other ground floor rooms from time to time.”
"We have been out two nights digging on the opposite side of the town, but we have not been ordered out to-night, so far.
“We’ve been out for two nights searching on the other side of town, but we haven’t been called out tonight, so far."
"I notice I have now been gazetted back to 15 August, the same as most of my contemporaries.
“I see I’ve now been officially announced back to August 15, just like most of my peers.”
"There has been a suggestion made that I should take a course of machine-gun instruction in order that I might act as understudy to our present Machine-Gun Officer (M.G.O.) who is Roscoe, and is the successor to Wyatt. I agreed, but it may have 'fallen through' owing to the move. If it comes off I shall go for a fortnight's course to a place which I will call No. 3 [probably St. Omer.]
“There’s been a suggestion that I should take a machine-gun training course to back up our current Machine-Gun Officer (M.G.O.), Roscoe, who took over from Wyatt. I agreed, but it might have ‘fallen through’ because of the move. If it happens, I’ll go for a two-week course at a place I’ll call No. 3 [probably St. Omer].”
"I got a letter from you to-day about 5 p.m. I was so glad.
“I got a letter from you today around 5 p.m. I was really happy.”
"No, I am not making things out better than they really are. I like to write mostly about the pleasant parts, of course. We have our unpleasant moments, shelling and so on, but no very bad times as yet. Being on tenterhooks is quite the worst part.
“No, I’m not sugarcoating things. I mostly like to write about the good stuff, of course. We have our rough patches, like the shelling and all, but nothing too terrible so far. The worst part is definitely feeling on edge.”
"As regards Fletcher being worse than us, of course he came out much earlier. He left Edinburgh for the Front on 4 January, and Laws left on 31 December. He has had some awful times and the winter campaign, and in any case the length of time one is exposed to the mental strain and worry makes a difference. I do my best to keep cheerful and happy all the time—I don't believe in meeting trouble half-way. If there was some indication of the termination of the war it would help matters—the [ 43] unending vista is apt to be rather disheartening at times. I am very glad Italy is in—at last.
“As for Fletcher being worse off than us, he definitely had a tougher start. He left Edinburgh for the Front on January 4, while Laws headed out on December 31. Fletcher has experienced some terrible things during the winter campaign, and the prolonged exposure to mental stress and worry really takes its toll. I try my best to stay cheerful and happy all the time—I don’t believe in anticipating trouble. If there were some sign that the war would end soon, it would really help—the [ 43] endless uncertainty can be quite discouraging at times. I’m really glad Italy has finally joined in.”
"By the way, Fletcher has not been sent to England (Blighty) after all. He is at Versailles, in the No. 4 General Hospital there, having a nice time if he can enjoy it. This hospital is the Trianon Palace. The Captain had a letter from him in which he sent his love to 'Maurice' and 'his lordship' (that's Thomas)."
“By the way, Fletcher hasn’t been sent to England (Blighty) after all. He’s at Versailles, in the No. 4 General Hospital there, having a good time if he can enjoy it. This hospital is the Trianon Palace. The Captain got a letter from him where he sent his love to ‘Maurice’ and ‘his lordship’ (that’s Thomas).”
"2 June 1915, 4.45 p.m.
"June 2, 1915, 4:45 PM
"Our interpreter is a Belgian, and is a very nice man. He does our shopping for us in the town, which is ten miles or so away, and (as now arranged) he makes the journey twice a week. It is very funny to hear him talk, he picks up the soldiers' idioms and uses them in the wrong places. One he is very fond of is the expression 'Every time'! He puts such a funny emphasis on it.
"Our interpreter is from Belgium, and he’s a really nice guy. He does our shopping in town, which is about ten miles away, and as we’ve arranged, he goes there twice a week. It’s pretty entertaining to listen to him speak; he picks up the soldiers’ slang and uses it incorrectly. One phrase he loves is 'Every time!' He emphasizes it in such a funny way."
"The last member of our Mess is a man who has just come out and has not long had his commission. He used to be Regimental Sergeant-Major to our 1st Battalion and has had about twenty-six years' service, so he knows his job.
"The last member of our team is a guy who just got promoted and hasn’t held his commission for long. He used to be the Regimental Sergeant-Major for our 1st Battalion and has around twenty-six years of experience, so he really knows his stuff."
"Unfortunately, however, his arrival is not an unmixed blessing. The Captain is seized with enthusiasm and wants to make our Company the finest Company in the Battalion. The result is that we have now nothing but parades and much less rest than before. When we were turned into a pioneer battalion the Colonel told the men that they would go digging at night and would do nothing else except for rifle inspection. Now, however, we have in addition an hour's drill of various sorts in the morning and a lecture to N.C.O.s in the afternoon, at which all subalterns have to attend and take notes. On the day following a rest night we have to be up about seven o'clock, and be on parade while the men do half an hour's physical exercise before breakfast. Then we have an hour and a half's drill afterwards and the lecture. And these parades seem to be growing. I am afraid they will wear us all out and the men as well. Thomas feels it most and is very worried—although he is Senior Subaltern in the Company he is left right out of things. I am afraid of his going like Laws and Fletcher did. Some 'rankers' are very good [ 44] fellows. They bring tremendous experience with them, but, on the other hand, we bring something too, and when they ride the high horse they can be very unbearable....
"Unfortunately, his arrival isn’t all good news. The Captain is really enthusiastic and wants to make our Company the best in the Battalion. As a result, we now have nothing but parades and a lot less downtime than before. When we became a pioneer battalion, the Colonel told the men they would be digging at night and would only have rifle inspections. Now, though, we also have an hour of various drills in the morning and an afternoon lecture for N.C.O.s that all subalterns must attend and take notes on. After a night of rest, we have to wake up around seven o’clock and be on parade while the men do half an hour of physical exercise before breakfast. Then we have an hour and a half of drills followed by the lecture. It seems like these parades are increasing. I’m worried they’ll wear us all out, including the men. Thomas is feeling it the most and is really worried—despite being Senior Subaltern in the Company, he feels excluded from everything. I’m afraid he might end up like Laws and Fletcher. Some of the 'rankers' are really great guys. They come with a lot of experience, but we bring something to the table too, and when they act superior, they can be really hard to deal with....
"I got a supply of paraffin to-day; D Company has bought a huge barrel of it, and I sent over a petrol tin for some. They gave me nearly two gallons and asked if I could let them have a window in exchange! I hunted round and found quite a good loose one and sent it across with my compliments. The reason they have bought up so much paraffin is because their Captain has presented pocket Primuses to his men. Each section of twelve men has one between them with one man in charge of it. It is a killing sight to see their Company sitting in a field and drumming up!
"I got a supply of paraffin today; D Company bought a huge barrel of it, and I sent over a petrol can to get some. They gave me almost two gallons and joked if I could trade them a window in return! I looked around and found a good loose one and sent it over with my compliments. The reason they bought so much paraffin is that their Captain gave pocket Primuses to his men. Each section of twelve shares one, with one person in charge of it. It’s quite a sight to see their Company sitting in a field cooking!"
"The Belgian cooking stove is rather a curious thing. It is of the same design in every house apparently. It consists of a metal urn to hold the fire; this has a removable lid for which you can substitute a kettle or pan which just fits the round opening. The urn stands about 3 feet from the wall and has a flat-shaped iron chimney leading into the main chimney. This iron chimney can be used for heating pots or for warming plates. The base of the urn is an ash collector. You will see that there is no oven; this is built separately and is a brick affair with a separate fire to it. [Sketch.]"
"The Belgian cooking stove is quite an interesting thing. It seems to have the same design in every house. It features a metal urn for the fire, which has a removable lid that can be replaced with a kettle or pan that fits the round opening perfectly. The urn stands about three feet from the wall and has a flat iron chimney that connects to the main chimney. This iron chimney can be used to heat pots or warm plates. The base of the urn collects the ash. As you can see, there is no oven; that's built separately out of brick with its own fire. [Sketch.]"
"Thursday, 3 June 1915, 1.30 p.m.
Thursday, June 3, 1915, 1:30 PM
"I am all right again to-day; you mustn't pay any attention to my grumbles, it just depends what I feel like; and I am going to stir things up about these parades. We had a fine time last night—very exciting. We went through the heart of the city and it is still very much on fire. The enemy keeps sending an occasional shell into it to keep it going. Just on the far side is a graveyard, and this has been 'crumped' out of existence nearly! It is an unpleasant place to pass now.
"I’m feeling good today; don’t mind my complaints, it just depends on my mood. I plan to raise some awareness about these parades. We had a fantastic time last night—very exciting. We went through the center of the city, and it’s still a total mess. The enemy keeps randomly firing shells to keep it chaotic. Right across the street is a graveyard, and it’s almost been destroyed! It’s really uncomfortable to walk by now."
"The town is almost unbelievable. I don't think anyone would credit that they could do so much damage and not leave a single house untouched, without entering the place at all. [Ypres again, probably.]
"The town is almost unbelievable. I don’t think anyone would believe they could cause so much destruction without leaving a single house untouched without even setting foot in the place. [Ypres again, probably.]
"Our digging last night was near a small road much used [ 45] by transport (which is very audible at night). As the enemy can hear the rumble of the horse-drawn carts quite plainly, they kept on sending shrapnel over, and we had quite a warm time of it. We were quite glad to get away again. (No one was hit while we were there.)
"Our digging last night was near a busy little road [ 45] (which is really noisy at night). Since the enemy can hear the sounds from the horse-drawn carts clear as day, they kept firing shrapnel at us, and it was pretty intense. We were really relieved to leave. (No one got hurt while we were there.)"
"I was very interested in father's pamphlet on 'War and Christianity,' and I have passed it on to the others. I like the way he gets right outside and looks at things from above. It is a very soothing thing to read.[4]...
"I had such an interesting talk with the interpreter yesterday (his rank is the equivalent of one of our Sergeant-Majors). He was a merchant in Morocco, and chucked up everything and came and joined the Belgian army as a private. He fought at Namur, Antwerp, and other places, and is most awfully keen. He was offered the job of Interpreter to the British Army, and, thinking he could help more by that means and also partly for monetary considerations, he took the job. He understood he would be fighting with us in the trenches, but they have put him on to shopping for us! He is awfully disappointed. He rides up when he can, and when we went up to Hill 60 he went up with our transports and showed them the way and helped them a lot, although shells were falling all round. He is a most gentlemanly man; his name is Polchet....
"I had such a fascinating conversation with the interpreter yesterday (his rank is similar to one of our Sergeant Majors). He used to be a merchant in Morocco and gave up everything to join the Belgian army as a private. He fought at Namur, Antwerp, and other places, and he’s really passionate. He was offered the position of Interpreter for the British Army, and thinking he could contribute more that way and for financial reasons, he took the role. He thought he’d be fighting alongside us in the trenches, but instead, they assigned him to run errands for us! He’s really disappointed. He rides up whenever he can, and when we went to Hill 60, he came with our transport and guided them, helping a lot even with shells falling all around. He’s a very gentlemanly man; his name is Polchet...."
"I had a letter from Violet and another from Margaret yesterday. I understand they have gone up to Edinburgh now; I shall like to go up there too 'after the war.' I believe Violet is getting my room ready for me in their house. I like everything very plain, just a valise and a little hay, and then you see if I am hungry in the night——....
"I got a letter from Violet and another from Margaret yesterday. I hear they’ve gone up to Edinburgh now; I’d like to go there too 'after the war.' I believe Violet is getting my room ready for me in their house. I like everything very simple, just a suitcase and a little hay, and then you see if I’m hungry at night——....
"P.S.—I had a most interesting letter from Oliver. His discussion of Italy's motives is fine. I like hearing what people think of events; we are apt to get very warped views out here unless we have the other point of view occasionally."
"P.S.—I received a really interesting letter from Oliver. His thoughts on Italy's motives are great. I enjoy hearing what people think about events; it’s easy to get distorted views out here if we don’t occasionally hear the other side."
"Sunday, 6 June 1915, 12 p.m.
"Sunday, June 6, 1915, 12 p.m.
"The Mess was thrown into the greatest state of excitement yesterday by the arrival of kippers! How splendid!
"The Mess was really excited yesterday because we got kippers! How amazing!"
We had a grand breakfast this morning, quite like the summer holidays again—breakfast after a bathe—with Alec of course!...
We had a fantastic breakfast this morning, just like during summer break again—breakfast after a swim—with Alec, of course!...
"By the way, I did not present the last lot of asparagus to the Mess—this was not because we didn't appreciate it, but because I felt so sorry for M. Polchet (our interpreter), and I wondered if he had any green stuff or luxuries. So I sent it over to him. And do you know what he has done? He has just sent me a shallow wooden box with a thick cotton-wool pad in it. In the pad are six hollows, and in each hollow is a ripping nectarine. Isn't it fine of him?
"By the way, I didn’t give the last batch of asparagus to the Mess—not because we didn’t appreciate it, but because I felt really sorry for M. Polchet (our interpreter), and I was curious if he had any fresh produce or treats. So, I sent it over to him. And do you know what he sent back? He just sent me a shallow wooden box with a thick cotton pad inside. In the pad are six little spots, and each one has a delicious nectarine. Isn’t that nice of him?"
"We have roses picked every day for the Mess-room; it does improve it. The other evening we had a specially nice meal. We sat round the polished table with candles in the centre and bowls of roses round them (as a matter of fact the bowls were old tinned-fruit tins, but what of that). The food was very special, though I can't remember what it was, but to crown all there was in the room just across the passage ... a real fiddler with a real fiddle. I really don't know how he managed to bring a fiddle out here; he is a private in the Royal Garrison Artillery, and plays simply beautifully. He has long hair and just a suggestion of side whiskers, and large boots, and, but that he would not be complimented, looks like a Viennese.
"We have roses picked every day for the mess hall; it really makes a difference. The other night, we had a particularly nice meal. We gathered around the polished table with candles in the center and bowls of roses around them (actually, the bowls were old fruit cans, but who cares). The food was really good, though I can’t remember what it was, but to top it all off, there was a real fiddler in the room just across the hall... playing an actual fiddle. I honestly don’t know how he managed to bring a fiddle out here; he’s a private in the Royal Garrison Artillery, and he plays beautifully. He has long hair and a bit of sideburns, big boots, and, not to flatter him, but he kind of looks like someone from Vienna."
"He started off by playing Grand Opera—I believe—and he gave us the Intermezzo from 'Cavalleria Rusticana.' Then he gave us 'Gipsy Love' and the 'Merry Widow,' and so on. He finished up with American ragtime. We sent him in a bottle of whisky half-way through the performance, and the music got lighter thenceforward. It was most amusing to notice the effect. When we looked in later the whisky was standing on the table, and he was walking round it with his fiddle, playing hard and apparently serenading it!
"He started off playing some Grand Opera, I think, and then he treated us to the Intermezzo from 'Cavalleria Rusticana.' After that, he played 'Gipsy Love' and the 'Merry Widow,' and so on. He wrapped it up with some American ragtime. We sent him a bottle of whisky halfway through the performance, and the music got lighter from then on. It was really funny to see the effect. When we checked in later, the whisky was on the table, and he was walking around it with his fiddle, playing energetically and seemingly serenading it!"
"I was inoculated again on Friday evening because it is only really effective for about six months, and there is going to be a lot of enteric about, I expect. This apparently is just the very place for it—flat low-lying country, poor water supply, and the soil heavily manured. So I have been feeling rather weak and feverish after it, [ 47] but I am better again now. I have to have it done again ten days later—but the second time is not so bad.
"I got vaccinated again on Friday evening because it’s only actually effective for about six months, and I expect there will be a lot of stomach issues around. This seems like the perfect place for it—flat low-lying area, poor water supply, and highly fertilized soil. So, I’ve been feeling a bit weak and feverish after it, [ 47] but I'm feeling better now. I need to get it done again in ten days—but the second time isn’t as bad."
"Talking about roses, Thomas picked a beauty this morning (before I got up) and brought it to me in bed. It is in front of me now, and is 5 inches across, and has a very fine smell."
"Speaking of roses, Thomas picked a beautiful one this morning (before I got up) and brought it to me in bed. It’s right in front of me now, about 5 inches wide, and has a really lovely scent."
"Wednesday, 16 June 1915, 1.30 p.m.
Wednesday, June 16, 1915, 1:30 PM
"We made an attack early this morning, and our Company waited here to receive the prisoners. Poor devils, I do feel so sorry for them. One officer of sixteen with six weeks' service. Old men with grey beards too, and many of the student type with spectacles—not fit to have to fight.
"We launched an attack early this morning, and our Company is here to take in the prisoners. I really feel sorry for them. One officer is only sixteen and has just six weeks of service. There are also older men with gray beards, and many students with glasses—not really fit to be in a fight."
"You remember 'Very Pressing are the Germans'; well, that's where I am, right inside the walls. Quite shell-proof, but very dank.
"You remember 'Very Pressing are the Germans'; well, that’s where I am, right inside the walls. It’s pretty safe from shells, but really humid."
"I have got the machine-gun job, and am going for a fortnight's course, starting on the 26th of June."
"I got the machine-gun position, and I'm starting a two-week course on June 26th."
"Monday, 21 June 1915, 4.30 p.m.
Monday, June 21, 1915, 4:30 PM
"We have had an extremely trying time lately, and I am very sorry to say we have lost Thomas.
"We've been going through a really rough time lately, and I'm really sorry to say that we've lost Thomas."
"He was hit on the head by shrapnel on the night after the attack—I expect you saw the account in the papers—and died about an hour later, having never recovered consciousness.
"He was hit in the head by shrapnel the night after the attack—I assume you saw the article in the papers—and he died about an hour later, never regaining consciousness."
"It was a most fatal night—the whole battalion was ordered out digging to consolidate the captured positions. We got half-way out, and then got stuck—the road being blocked by parties of wounded. We waited on a path alongside a hedge for over an hour, and though we could not be seen we had a good deal of shrapnel sent over us. To make matters worse, they put some gas shells near, and we had to wear our helmets though the gas was not very strong. It was exceedingly unpleasant, and we could hardly see at all. It was while we were waiting like this that Thomas got knocked out.
"It was an incredibly difficult night—the entire battalion was ordered out to dig in and secure the positions we had taken. We made it about halfway out, and then we got stuck—the road was blocked by groups of wounded soldiers. We waited on a path next to a hedge for over an hour, and even though we couldn't be seen, we had quite a bit of shrapnel falling down on us. To make matters worse, they launched some gas shells nearby, and we had to wear our helmets even though the gas wasn't that strong. It was really uncomfortable, and we could barely see anything. It was during this wait that Thomas got hit."
"We are all sorry to lose him, and I miss him very much, but it is nothing to the trouble there will be at his home, for he is his mother's favourite son.
"We're all heartbroken over his loss, and I miss him a lot, but that’s nothing compared to the trouble there will be at home, because he is his mom's favorite son."
"I have written to his mother, but I have not told her [ 48] what makes us feel so mad about it—namely, that we did no digging that night at all. When we got to the position we were so late, and there was still such confusion there due to the attack, that we marched back again and just got in before daylight. We might just as well never have gone out. Isn't it fairly sickening?
"I've written to his mom, but I haven't explained to her [ 48] what really drives us crazy about it—specifically, that we didn’t do any digging that night at all. When we got to the spot, we were really late, and the chaos from the attack was so overwhelming that we just marched back and got in right before dawn. We might as well not have gone out at all. Isn't that pretty frustrating?"
"The next night we went out again, and we had a very quiet night and no casualties. The scene of the battle was pretty bad, and I put all my spare men on to burying.
"The next night we went out again, and we had a really quiet night with no casualties. The battlefield looked pretty bad, so I assigned all my extra men to bury the dead."
"Altogether we are very thankful to have a change from 'pioneering,' and get back to the trenches!
"Overall, we're really thankful to move away from 'pioneering' and get back to the trenches!"
"Our chief trouble here is snipers. We are in a wood, and parties going for water and so on to our headquarters will walk outside the trench instead of in it, just because the trench goes like this. [A diagram is omitted.] They take the straight course along the side in spite of repeated warnings. There is one point that a sniper has got marked. He gets our men coming back as they get into the trench just too late. We had a man hit this morning, but not badly, and a few minutes ago I had to stop this letter and go to a man of B Company who had got hit, and rather more seriously, at the same spot. I have put up a large notice there now, and hope it will prevent any more.
"Our main issue here is snipers. We're in a wooded area, and teams going for water and other supplies to our headquarters tend to walk outside the trench instead of in it, just because of the way the trench is laid out. [A diagram is omitted.] They take the direct route along the side despite repeated warnings. There's one spot that a sniper has fixed his aim on. He catches our guys coming back just as they get into the trench, right at the worst moment. We had a soldier hit this morning, but fortunately not seriously, and a few minutes ago I had to pause this letter to check on a B Company soldier who was hit, and his injury was much worse, in the same location. I've put up a large notice there now, and I hope it helps keep anyone else from getting hurt."
"I am sorry this is not a very cheerful letter, but we have all been rather sad lately. I am getting over it now. Luckily one absorbs these things very gradually; I could not realise it at first. It was an awful blow, because, especially since Fletcher went away (he is now at home), we had become very friendly, and one is apt to forget that there is always the chance of losing a friend suddenly. As a matter of fact, Thomas is the first officer of C Company that has been killed for seven months.
"I’m sorry this letter isn’t very cheerful, but we’ve all been feeling pretty down lately. I'm starting to get past it now. Thankfully, we process these things slowly; I couldn't really take it in at first. It was such a shock, especially since Fletcher left (he’s back home now), we had grown quite close, and it’s easy to forget that you can suddenly lose a friend. In fact, Thomas is the first officer from C Company to be killed in seven months."
"When we were up in this wood before, digging (about a fortnight ago) B Company lost Captain Salter. I dare say you saw his name in the Roll of Honour. We were just going to collect our spades and come in, when he was shot through the head by a stray bullet.
"When we were in this forest before, digging (about two weeks ago), B Company lost Captain Salter. I bet you saw his name on the Roll of Honour. We were just about to grab our shovels and head in when he was shot in the head by a stray bullet."
"What a very melancholy strain I am writing in, I am so sorry. I am quite well and fit. We have mislaid our mess-box coming up here with all our specially selected foods. The result is we are on short commons—great fun. I am eating awful messes and enjoying them. Fried [ 49] bacon and fried cheese together! Awful; but, by Jove, when you're hungry."
"What a really heavy mood I'm in, I'm so sorry. I'm doing well and feeling fit. We've lost our supply box while coming up here with all our favorite foods. The result is we're on a limited diet—great fun. I'm eating some terrible dishes and actually enjoying them. Fried bacon and fried cheese together! Awful; but, wow, when you're hungry."
Letter from Raymond to the Mother of an Officer
A Friend of His Who Had Been Killed
"2nd S. Lancashire Regt., B.E.F., Front,
17 June 1915
"2nd S. Lancashire Regt., B.E.F., Front,
17 June 1915
""Dear Mrs. Thomas,—I am very sorry to say I have to tell you the very worst of bad news. I know what Humphrey's loss must be to you, and I want to tell you how much it is to all of us too. I know I have not realised it yet myself properly. I have been in a kind of trance since last night and I dread to wake up.
"Dear Mrs. Thomas,—I’m really sorry to bring you some terrible news. I can only imagine how much Humphrey's absence means to you, and I want to share how deeply it affects all of us as well. I know I haven’t fully come to terms with it myself yet. I’ve been in a sort of daze since last night, and I’m afraid to confront reality."
"He was a very fine friend to me, especially since Fletcher went away, and I miss him frightfully. Last night (16th to 17th) the whole Battalion went out digging. There had been an attack by the English early the same morning, and the enemy's guns were still very busy even in the evening. Our road was blocked in front owing to the moving of a lot of wounded, and while we were held up on a little field path alongside a hedge we had several shrapnel shells over us. To add to the horrors of the situation they had put some gas shells over too, and we were obliged to put on our gas helmets. While Humphrey was standing with his helmet on in the rear of our Company talking to the Captain of the Company behind, a shell came over and a piece of it caught him on the head. He was rendered unconscious, and it was evident from the first he had no chance of recovery. He was immediately taken a little way back to a place where there was no gas, and here the doctor dressed his wound. He was then taken back on a stretcher to the dressing-station. He died there about an hour after he had been admitted, having never recovered consciousness.
"He was a really great friend to me, especially since Fletcher left, and I miss him a lot. Last night (16th to 17th), the whole Battalion went out to dig. There had been an attack by the English earlier that morning, and the enemy's guns were still very active even in the evening. Our path was blocked in front because of many wounded soldiers passing through, and while we were stuck on a narrow field path next to a hedge, several shrapnel shells exploded overhead. To make matters worse, they launched gas shells, and we had to put on our gas masks. While Humphrey was standing with his mask on at the back of our Company talking to the Captain from the Company behind us, a shell came over and a piece hit him in the head. He was knocked out, and it was clear from the start that he had no chance of recovery. They took him to a safe place away from the gas, and the doctor treated his wound there. He was then carried back on a stretcher to the dressing station. He died about an hour after he was admitted, having never regained consciousness."
"If he had to die, I am thankful he was spared pain beforehand. It made my heart ache this afternoon packing his valise; I have given his chocolate, cigarettes, and tobacco to the Mess, and I have wrapped up his diary and a few loose letters and made them into a small parcel which is in the middle of his valise.
"If he had to die, I'm glad he didn’t suffer beforehand. It broke my heart this afternoon packing his bag; I gave his chocolate, cigarettes, and tobacco to the Mess, and I wrapped his diary and a few loose letters into a small parcel, which is in the middle of his bag."
"The papers and valuables which he had on him at the [ 50] time will be sent back through our headquarters, the other things, such as letters, etc., in his other pockets I have left just as they were. I hope the valise will arrive safely.
"The papers and valuables he had on him at the [ 50] time will be sent back through our headquarters. The other items, like letters and such, in his other pockets, I've left untouched. I hope the suitcase arrives safely."
"He will be buried very simply, and probably due east of Ypres about three-quarters of a mile out—near the dressing-station. I will of course see he has a proper cross.
"He will be buried very simply, probably due east of Ypres, about three-quarters of a mile out—close to the dressing station. I will, of course, ensure he has a proper cross."
"Humphrey was splendid always when shells were bursting near. He hated them as much as any of us, but he just made himself appear unconcerned in order to put heart into the troops. Three nights ago we were digging a trench and the Germans thought our attack was coming off that night. For nearly three-quarters of an hour they put every kind of shell over us and some came very close. We all lay down in the trench and waited. On looking up once I was amazed to see a lone figure walking calmly about as if nothing was going on at all. It may have been foolish but it was grand."
"Humphrey always showed great composure when shells were going off nearby. He hated them just like the rest of us, but he acted casually to lift the spirits of the troops. Three nights ago, we were digging a trench, and the Germans thought we were going to launch our attack that night. For almost three-quarters of an hour, they fired every type of shell at us, with some landing very close. We all lay down in the trench and waited. When I looked up once, I was stunned to see a lone figure walking around calmly as if nothing was happening at all. It might have been reckless, but it was impressive."
"Tuesday, 22 June 1915, 4.45 p.m.
Tuesday, June 22, 1915, 4:45 PM
"Well! What a long war, isn't it? Never mind, I believe it will finish up without much help from us, and our job is really killing time. And our time is so pleasant it doesn't need much killing out here. The days roll along—nice sunny days too—bringing us nearer I suppose to Peace. (One hardly dares even to write the word now, it has such a significance.) There have been cases where the war has driven people off their heads (this applies only, I think, to the winter campaign), but I often think if Peace comes suddenly that there will be many such cases.
"Wow! This war has been going on forever, right? Honestly, I think it will end on its own without us having to do much, and our role here is just to pass the time. But our time here is so enjoyable that it hardly feels like we need to pass it at all. The days just roll on—beautiful sunny days too—bringing us, I guess, closer to Peace. (It feels almost forbidden to even write that word now; it carries so much weight.) There have been moments when the war has pushed people to madness (this seems especially true during the winter campaign), but I often worry that if Peace arrives suddenly, there will be a lot of such cases."
"It really is rather amazing the unanimity of everybody on this subject, and it must be the same behind the German front-line trenches.
"It’s really incredible how everyone sees eye to eye on this issue, and I bet they feel the same way behind the German front-line trenches."
"I should think that never in this world before have there been so many men so 'fed up' before. And then the women at home too—it is wonderful where the driving force comes from to keep things going on.
"I think never before have so many guys been this 'fed up.' And the women back home too—it's impressive where the motivation comes from to keep everything going."
"But still—I don't want to convey a false impression. If you took my last letter by itself you might think things were very terrible out here all the time. They are not. On the whole it is not a bad time at all. The life is full of interest, and the discomforts are few and far between. [ 51] Bad times do come along occasionally, but they are by way of exceptions. It is most like a long picnic in all sorts of places with a sort of constraint and uneasiness in the air. This last is purely mental, and the less one worries about it the less it is, and so one can contrive to be light-hearted and happy through it all—unless one starts to get depressed and moody. And it is just that which has happened to Laws and Fletcher and one or two others. They had been out long and had seen unpleasant times and without an occasional rest; none but the very thick can stand it."
"But still—I don’t want to give the wrong impression. If you only read my last letter, you might think things are terrible here all the time. They’re not. Overall, it’s not bad at all. Life is quite interesting, and the discomforts are rare. [ 51] Bad times do happen occasionally, but they're more like exceptions. It feels most like an extended picnic in different places, with a bit of tension and unease in the air. The unease is all in the mind, and the less you worry about it, the less it bothers you. That way, you can manage to stay light-hearted and happy through it all—unless you start feeling down and moody. And that's exactly what's happened to Laws, Fletcher, and a few others. They've been out here for a while and have dealt with tough times, and without a break, only the strongest can handle it."
"Saturday, 26 June 1915, 6.40 p.m.
Saturday, 26 June 1915, 6:40 PM
"Here I am installed in the school [Machine Gun] which is, or was, a convent. Fine large place and grounds. Two officers per bedroom and a large Mess-room; about twenty officers up for the course (or more) which starts to-morrow (Sunday). Your solution of the Thompson acrostic [St. Omer] was perfectly right, we are far back. This convent is about two miles from that town.
"I’m set up in the school [Machine Gun], which used to be a convent. It’s a nice big place with plenty of grounds. There are two officers in each bedroom and a large mess hall; around twenty officers here for the course (or maybe more) starting tomorrow (Sunday). Your response to the Thompson acrostic [St. Omer] was absolutely correct; we are quite far back. This convent is about two miles from that town."
"I am so pleased to be in the 'pleasant, sunny land of France,' amid absolute peacefulness. We had a curious journey. Last night I slept at our transport (and had a bath!). I got up soon after six, mounted a horse just before eight (after breakfast). My servant and my valise, also a groom to bring my horse back, came in a limber. And that excellent man Polchet rode all the way to Divisional Headquarters with me, although it was about six miles out of his way. We got to Headquarters at a quarter to ten—a motor-bus was to start at ten for here. It started at 10.30 with me, my luggage, and my servant (I don't know why he comes last) in it. The Harborne motor-buses in the Harborne High Street weren't in it. We got shaken to a jelly—we were on top. We went back about two miles to pick up some of our Division, and having done so, we set off to pick up some of the 14th Division, at a point carefully specified in our driver's instructions. This was about five miles away, in our proper direction. But when we got to the spot we discovered they (the Division) had left it a week ago and gone to a point quite close to where we had just picked up the 3rd Division men. I telephoned in vain; we had to go all the way back. We found the place with difficulty (we [ 52] found all our places with difficulty as we had no maps), collected the men, and came all the way out again. Then we came straight here, which was about fifteen miles at least. We got here at 4.30 p.m.! Six hours' motorbussing! and the bus's maximum was 25 m.p.h. at least, I should judge. Luckily it was a glorious day, and I sat in front with the driver and enjoyed it all....
"I’m really happy to be in the 'pleasant, sunny land of France,' surrounded by complete tranquility. We had an interesting journey. Last night I slept at our transport (and had a bath!). I woke up shortly after six, got on a horse just before eight (after breakfast). My servant and my luggage, along with a groom to bring my horse back, arrived in a light vehicle. And that wonderful man Polchet rode all the way to Divisional Headquarters with me, even though it was about six miles out of his way. We arrived at Headquarters at a quarter to ten—a motorbus was supposed to leave at ten for here. It finally left at 10:30 with me, my luggage, and my servant (I don’t know why he comes last) on board. The Harborne motorbuses in Harborne High Street weren’t even comparable. We got jostled around—we were sitting on top. We went back about two miles to pick up some of our Division, and after that, we set off to collect some of the 14th Division at a place clearly marked in our driver’s instructions. This was about five miles away, in the right direction. But when we got there, we found out they (the Division) had left it a week ago and moved to a place really close to where we just picked up the 3rd Division men. I called but got no answer; we had to go all the way back. We had a tough time finding the place (we [ 52] struggled to find all our locations since we had no maps), gathered the men, and headed out again. Then we went straight here, which was at least about fifteen miles. We arrived at 4:30 p.m.! Six hours on the motorbus! And the bus's top speed was at least 25 m.p.h., I would guess. Fortunately, it was a beautiful day, and I sat in front with the driver and enjoyed the whole experience...."
"I told you leave was starting—well, it has now started. Three of our officers have gone—and all together! They are only getting three clear days in England—but still!
"I told you vacation was beginning—well, it has officially started. Three of our officers have left—and all at once! They’re only getting three full days in England—but still!"
"I am going to find out when this course finishes—I think it lasts for sixteen days—and then I am going to apply for my leave to follow on. I wish—oh, how I wish—I may get it; but of course many things may intervene.
"I’m going to find out when this course ends—I think it runs for sixteen days—and then I’m going to apply for my leave to follow that. I wish—oh, how I wish—I could get it; but of course, a lot of things could get in the way."
"If it does come off I hope there will be a representative gathering to meet me at dinner. That is, I hope Violet will be back from Edinburgh, Lorna and Norah from Coniston, and perhaps Oliver and his Winifred will pay a flying visit from Cardiff. Haven't I got an enlarged opinion of my own importance? I suppose it is too much to expect the offices to have a whole holiday!"
"If everything goes as planned, I hope there will be a gathering to meet me at dinner. Specifically, I hope Violet will be back from Edinburgh, Lorna and Norah from Coniston, and maybe Oliver and his Winifred will make a quick visit from Cardiff. Don’t I have an inflated sense of my own importance? I guess it’s too much to ask for the offices to take a day off!"
"Monday, 28 June 1915, 6.15 p.m.
Monday, June 28, 1915, 6:15 p.m.
"The enemy's lines round here do not appear to be strongly held, in fact quite the reverse—that is, the front lines. But attacks on our part don't always pay—even so. Their method, as I understand it, is simply to lose less men than we do. Accordingly, they leave very few men in their front trench, but what there are have a good supply of machine guns and are well supported by artillery. We precede our attacks by heavy shelling, and the few men get into well-built dug-outs until it is over, then they come out and get to work with their machine guns on the attacking infantry. The trench ultimately falls after rather heavy loss on our side (especially if the wire isn't properly cut) and the few defenders hold up their hands. Some are made prisoners—some are not. If the enemy want the trench very badly they try and retake it by means of a strong counter-attack, trusting that our men and arrangements are in sufficient confusion to [ 53] prevent adequate support. That is why our attacks are so expensive and why we aren't constantly attacking. The alternative plan is, I think, simply to shell them heavily—in all their lines—and leave out the actual attack in most cases....
"The enemy's defenses around here don’t seem very strong; in fact, it’s quite the opposite for the front lines. But our attacks don’t always work, even so. From what I understand, their strategy is to just lose fewer men than we do. They keep very few soldiers in their front trench, but those who are there have plenty of machine guns and solid artillery support. We start our attacks with heavy shelling, and the few defenders pull back to sturdy dugouts until the bombardment ends, then they come out and use their machine guns against our attacking infantry. The trench eventually falls after significant losses on our side (especially if the barbed wire isn’t properly cut), and the few defenders then surrender. Some are taken prisoner, while others manage to escape. If the enemy really wants the trench back, they try to reclaim it with a strong counter-attack, hoping that our troops and plans are confused enough to prevent adequate support. That’s why our attacks are so costly and why we don’t attack all the time. The alternative plan, I believe, is just to bombard them heavily along their lines and skip the actual attack in most cases....
"I was so interested to hear that Alec had applied for me to come back. It is not at all impossible, because I have known two or three cases where officers have been recalled—one was chief chemist (or so he said) at Brunner Mond's. He was returning as I came out, and tried to make one's flesh creep by his tales of war. But I don't think it is likely to happen in my case. I only wish it would. I should love to come home again, although I don't feel as if I had done my bit yet—really. I haven't been in any big scrap, and I haven't killed my man even....
"I was really interested to hear that Alec had requested for me to come back. It's definitely a possibility, because I know a few instances where officers have come back—one claimed to be the head chemist at Brunner Mond's. He was on his way back as I was leaving and tried to scare me with his war stories. But I don’t think it’s likely to happen for me. I just wish it would. I would love to come home again, even though I don’t feel like I’ve really contributed enough yet. I haven't been in any major battle, and I haven't even killed anyone...
"I had a ripping time at the transport; I hope they enjoyed the peas—they deserved to. They were hospitality itself. They welcomed me, gave me three meals, lent me anything I wanted, made room for me to sleep in their large room (this necessitated the Quartermaster-Sergeant moving his bed into another room), gave me a warm bath, and generally made me feel quite at home. They have a ripping dug-out. Rooms half underground, 7 feet high, plenty of ventilation, boarded floor and walls, and a wooden roof supported on square wooden pillars and covered in earth well sodded on top....
"I had a great time at the transport; I hope they enjoyed the peas—they deserved it. They were the epitome of hospitality. They welcomed me, provided three meals, lent me anything I needed, made space for me to sleep in their large room (which meant the Quartermaster-Sergeant had to move his bed to another room), gave me a warm bath, and generally made me feel right at home. They have an awesome dug-out. The rooms are partially underground, 7 feet high, well-ventilated, with a boarded floor and walls, and a wooden roof supported by square wooden pillars and covered with well-sodded earth on top....
"Talking about the Major (Major Cotton), he used to be our Adjutant at Crosby—he was Captain then. He came out as second in command and has now got the Battalion while our Colonel (Colonel Dudgeon) is away sick. The latter got his C.B. in the last honours list. He is an excellent man. Lieut. Burlton, too, got a Military Cross. He has now been wounded twice; he was the moving spirit of the hockey matches at Crosby in the old days, and, when he was recalled to the Front, his mantle fell upon me....
"Speaking of the Major (Major Cotton), he used to be our Adjutant at Crosby—he was a Captain back then. He came out as second in command and has now taken over the Battalion while our Colonel (Colonel Dudgeon) is off sick. The Colonel received his C.B. in the last honors list. He's a great guy. Lieut. Burlton also received a Military Cross. He's been wounded twice now; he was the driving force behind the hockey matches at Crosby in the past, and when he was called back to the Front, I had to step up...
"All the officers here are from different regiments with a very few exceptions. It is most interesting. At meals, Way and I sit among the Cavalry, Dragoons and Lancers, etc. They are fine chaps—the real Army officers of which there are now all too few."
"All the officers here are from different regiments with very few exceptions. It’s really interesting. At meals, Way and I sit with the Cavalry, Dragoons, Lancers, and so on. They’re great guys—the real Army officers, of which there are now way too few."
"Machine-Gun School, G.H.Q.,
Wednesday, 7 July 1915, 5 p.m.
"Machine-Gun School, G.H.Q.,
Wednesday, July 7, 1915, 5 p.m."Here I am getting towards the end of my little holiday, only five more days to go. No word has reached me from my Battalion on the subject of leave, or of anything else for that matter....
"Here I am, nearing the end of my little vacation, with just five days left. I haven't heard anything from my Battalion about leave or anything else for that matter...."
"If this threatened push on Calais is real, or if the higher commands have got 'wind up' about it, they will very likely stop all leave, and then I shall just have to wait until it starts again....
"If this possible attack on Calais is serious, or if the higher-ups have caught wind of it, they will probably cancel all leaves, and then I'll just have to wait until things start up again...."
"I am sure that the fact of our nation being 'down' and preparing for a winter campaign will materially assist in shortening the war and rendering that preparation unnecessary.
"I believe that our country being in a low spot and preparing for a winter campaign will help shorten the war significantly and make that preparation unnecessary."
"We have an awfully amusing chap here who is in the Grenadier Guards. He is always imitating Harry Tate. A great big hefty chap, in great big sloppy clothes (including what are known as 'Prince of Wales' breeches). He gets his mouth right over to the side of his face and says 'You stupid boy!' in Harry Tate's voice. He does this in the middle of our instructional squads when some wretched person does something wrong with the gun, and sends every one into fits of laughter.... [A lot more about a motor that wouldn't go.]
"There's a really funny guy here from the Grenadier Guards. He's always doing an impression of Harry Tate. A big, hefty guy, wearing oversized, baggy clothes (including what are known as 'Prince of Wales' breeches). He stretches his mouth all the way to the side of his face and says 'You stupid boy!' in Harry Tate's voice. He does this during our training sessions whenever someone messes up with the gun, and it cracks everyone up... [A lot more about a motor that wouldn't go.]
"My M.G. course is going on very nicely. I have learnt a very great deal, have been intensely interested, and am very keen on the work. My function as a reserve machine-gunner should really be to train the reserve team and such parts of the main team as are not actually required in the trenches, in a safe spot behind the lines! It sounds 'cushy,' but those in authority over us are not sufficiently enlightened, I am afraid, to adopt such a plan. The object of course is to prevent your reserve men from being 'used up' as riflemen, as otherwise when you want them to take the place of the others they are casualties and all their training goes for nothing.
"My M.G. course is going really well. I've learned a lot, am really engaged, and I'm very enthusiastic about the work. As a reserve machine-gunner, my role should actually involve training the reserve team and parts of the main team that aren’t needed in the trenches, in a safe area behind the lines! It sounds 'easy,' but unfortunately, those in charge aren’t smart enough to adopt that plan. The main goal is to prevent the reserve men from being 'used up' as riflemen because if that happens, when they are needed to replace others, they could end up as casualties, and all their training would be wasted."
The Cavalry officers here are a great joke. They find this life very tiring. They are quite keen to get back again and have been from the beginning. We, on the other hand, fairly enjoy it and are not at all anxious to go back to our regiments. That shows the difference between the [ 55] lives we lead. Of course they have been in the trenches and have had some very bad times there, but they only go in in emergencies and at long intervals....
The cavalry officers here are a big joke. They find this life extremely tiring. They really want to go back and have felt that way since the beginning. We, on the other hand, actually enjoy it and aren’t eager to return to our regiments. That shows the difference between the [ 55] lives we live. Of course, they have been in the trenches and faced some really tough times, but they only go in during emergencies and at long intervals...
"Another difference between us is that they keep their buttons as bright as possible and themselves as spick and span as can be. The infantry officer gets his buttons as dull as possible, and if they are green so much the better, as it shows he has been through gas. He likes his clothes and especially his puttees to be rather torn, and his hat to be any old sloppy shape. If he gets a new hat he is almost ashamed to wear it—he is terrified of being mistaken for 'Kitcheners'!
"Another difference is that they keep their buttons as shiny as possible and themselves looking neat and tidy. The infantry officer gets his buttons as dull as he can, and if they are green, that’s even better, as it shows he has been through gas. He prefers his clothes, especially his puttees, to be a bit torn, and his hat to be in any old sloppy shape. If he gets a new hat, he’s almost embarrassed to wear it—he’s afraid of being mistaken for 'Kitcheners'!"
"Lord Kitchener and Mr. Asquith came here last evening. Here, to this convent. I don't know what for; but there was of course a good deal of stir here.
"Lord Kitchener and Mr. Asquith came here last night. To this convent. I have no idea why; but there was, of course, quite a bit of excitement here."
"Way and I went into the town last night. We hired a fiacre for the return journey. It came on to rain, so it was just as well we had a hood. We both thoroughly enjoyed the journey. The fiacre was what would be dignified by the name of 'Victoria' in England. But in France, where it seems to be etiquette not to take any trouble over carriagework, fiacre is the only word you could apply, and it just fits it. It expresses not only its shabbiness but also hints at its broken-backed appearance.
Way and I went into town last night. We rented a fiacre for the ride back. It started to rain, so it was good that we had a hood. We both really enjoyed the journey. The fiacre would be called a 'Victoria' in England. But in France, where it seems to be proper not to fuss over carriages, fiacre is the only term that fits, and it really captures it well. It conveys not only its rough condition but also suggests its sagging look.
"We went into some stables and inquired about a fiacre, and a fat boy in a blue apron with a white handkerchief tied over one eye said we could have one. So I said, 'Où est le cocher?' and he pointed to his breast and said, 'C'est moi!'
"We went into some stables and asked about a fiacre, and a chubby kid in a blue apron with a white handkerchief tied over one eye said we could get one. So I asked, 'Where's the driver?' and he pointed to himself and said, 'That's me!'"
"The fare, he said, would be six francs and the pourboire. Thoughtful of him not to forget that. We agreed, and he eventually produced the usual French horse.
"The fare, he said, would be six francs plus a tip. Thoughtful of him not to forget that. We agreed, and he eventually brought out the usual French horse."
"The fiacre was very comfortable and we were awfully tickled with the idea of us two in that absurd conveyance, especially when we passed staff officers, which was frequently. Altogether we were quite sorry when our drive was over."
The fiacre was super comfortable and we were really amused by the idea of the two of us in that silly carriage, especially when we passed staff officers, which happened often. Overall, we were pretty sad when our ride was over.
NOTE BY O. J. L.
On 16 July 1915, Raymond came home on leave, and he had a
great reception. On 20 July he went back.
On July 16, 1915, Raymond came home on leave and received a warm welcome. He returned on July 20.
"Sunday, 25 July 1915, 7.30 p.m.
"Sunday, July 25, 1915, 7:30 PM
"I have got quite a nice dug-out, with a chair and table in it. The table was away from the door and got no light, so I have spent about two hours to-day turning things round. I went to bed about three this morning (just after 'stand-to') and slept till nearly twelve. Then I had breakfast (bacon and eggs). As my former platoon Sergeant remarked: 'It is a great thing to have a few comforts, it makes you forget there is a war,'
"I have a pretty nice dugout, with a chair and a table in it. The table was positioned away from the door and didn't get any light, so I spent about two hours today rearranging things. I went to bed around three this morning (just after 'stand-to') and slept until nearly noon. Then I had breakfast (bacon and eggs). As my old platoon sergeant used to say: 'It's great to have a few comforts; it makes you forget there's a war.'
"So it does until a whizz-bang comes over.
"And it does, until a whizz-bang comes over."
"I have just seen an aeroplane brought down (German luckily). I missed the first part, where one of ours went up to it and a flame shot across between them (machine gun, I expect). I ran out just in time to see the machine descending on fire. It came down quite steadily inside our lines (about a mile or more away), but the flames were quite clearly visible,"
"I just saw a plane get shot down (luckily, it was a German one). I missed the start when one of ours went up to it and a flame shot across between them (probably from a machine gun). I rushed out just in time to see the plane coming down in flames. It descended steadily within our lines (about a mile or so away), but the flames were clearly visible,"
"Thursday, 29 July 1915, 7.35 p.m.
Thursday, July 29, 1915, 7:35 PM
"Here I am in the trenches again, quite like old times, and quite in the swing again after the unsettling effect of coming home! You know I can't help laughing at things out here. The curious aspect of things sometimes comes and hits me, and I sit down and laugh (not insanely or hysterically, bien entendu; but I just can't help chuckling). It is so absurd, the reasons and causes that have drawn me to this particular and unlikely field in Belgium, and, having arrived here, that make me set about at once house-hunting—for all the world as if it was the most natural thing in life. And having selected my little house and arranged all my belongings in it, I regard it as home and spend a few days there. And then one morning my servant and I, we pack up everything once more and hoist them on to our backs and set off, staff in hand, like a pair of gipsies to another field a mile or so distant, and there make a new home....
"Here I am in the trenches again, just like before, and getting back into the swing of things after the strange experience of coming back! You know I can’t help but laugh at things out here. Sometimes the bizarre aspects of life hit me, and I just sit down and chuckle (not crazily or hysterically, of course; I just can’t help but laugh). It’s so absurd, the reasons and circumstances that brought me to this specific and unlikely spot in Belgium, and now that I'm here, I instantly start looking for a place to stay—as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. After choosing my little house and unpacking my things, I consider it home and spend a few days there. Then one morning, my servant and I pack everything up again, throw it on our backs, and head off, staff in hand, like a couple of nomads to another field a mile away, where we create a new home...."
"I was very loth to leave my front line dug-out, because I had arranged things to my liking—had moved the table so that it caught the light, and so on. It had a built-in [ 57] table (which took a lot of moving), a chair and a sandbag bed. Quite small and snug.
"I really didn’t want to leave my front-line dugout because I had set it up just the way I liked it—I arranged the table to catch the light and everything. It had a built-in [ 57] table (which took a lot of effort to move), a chair, and a sandbag bed. It was quite small and cozy."
"But still—this new dug-out back here is quite nice. Large and roomy, with windows with bars in them (but no glass)—a proper square table on four legs—three chairs and a sandbag bed. So I am quite happy. The sandbag bed is apparently made as follows: Cover a portion of the floor, 6 feet 6 inches by 3 feet 6 inches, with a single layer of sandbags filled with earth. Over these place several layers of empty sandbags, and the bed is finished. If the hollows and lumps are carefully placed, the former in the middle and the latter at the head, the result is quite a success. Of course one sleeps in one's clothes covered by a coat and with an air pillow under one's head.
"But still—this new dugout back here is pretty nice. It’s large and spacious, with barred windows (but no glass)—a proper square table on four legs—three chairs and a sandbag bed. So I’m quite content. The sandbag bed is apparently made like this: Cover a section of the floor, 6 feet 6 inches by 3 feet 6 inches, with a single layer of sandbags filled with dirt. On top of these, place several layers of empty sandbags, and the bed is ready. If the hollows and bumps are arranged carefully, with the hollows in the middle and the bumps at the head, it works quite well. Of course, you sleep in your clothes, covered by a coat, with an air pillow under your head."
"We have had a very gay time in the trenches. I think I told you how I saw a hostile aeroplane brought down on fire in our lines. That was on Sunday, and the official report says both pilots killed. On Monday I went down to a support trench to have meat tea and a chat with Holden and Ventris (two of C Company officers). At a quarter to ten there was a loud rumbling explosion and the dug-out we were in rocked for several seconds. The Germans had fired a mine about 60 feet in front of our trench to try to blow in some of our workings.
"We’ve had a pretty good time in the trenches. I think I mentioned how I saw an enemy airplane go down in flames in our area. That happened on Sunday, and the official report says both pilots were killed. On Monday, I went down to a support trench to have a meat tea and chat with Holden and Ventris (two officers from C Company). Around a quarter to ten, there was a loud rumbling explosion and the dugout we were in shook for several seconds. The Germans had fired a mine about 60 feet in front of our trench trying to blow up some of our structures."
"I rushed to my guns—both were quite safe. You should have heard the noise. Every man in the place got up to the parapet and blazed away for all he was worth. It was exciting! One machine gun fired two belts (500 rounds), and the other fifty rounds. I heard afterwards that several of the enemy were seen to leap their parapets, but turned back when they heard the machine guns open fire. It took a good while for things to quieten down. Some of our miners were at work when it went off, but their gallery was some way off and they were quite all right.
"I rushed to my guns—both were fine. You should have heard the noise. Every man in the place got up to the parapet and fired as much as he could. It was exhilarating! One machine gun fired two belts (500 rounds), and the other fifty rounds. I later heard that several enemies were seen to jump their parapets but turned back when they heard the machine guns start firing. It took a while for things to settle down. Some of our miners were working when it started, but their gallery was far enough away, and they were completely safe."
"Last night they actually exploded another one! Aren't they keen? This was a much smaller affair, but closer to our trench. It shook down a portion of our parapet, which was easily rebuilt and entombed temporarily two of our miners. In neither case were there any casualties....
"Last night they actually blew up another one! Aren’t they eager? This one was much smaller, but it was closer to our trench. It knocked down part of our parapet, which we quickly fixed, and temporarily trapped two of our miners. Thankfully, there were no casualties..."
"I am so sorry the date of the wedding had to be altered, but I agree it was for the best. I only hope you remembered to inform the bridegroom—he is often forgotten on these occasions, and I have known a lot of trouble caused by just this omission."
"I’m really sorry that the wedding date had to be changed, but I think it was for the best. I just hope you remembered to let the groom know—he often gets overlooked at these events, and I’ve seen a lot of problems come from this kind of mistake."
Letter from Raymond to Mrs. Fred Stratton,
formerly Miss Marjorie Gunn
"1 August 1915, Sunday, 11.20 p.m.
1 August 1915, Sunday, 11:20 p.m.
"I am not actually in the trenches at the moment, though most of the Battalion is. I was in for five days, and then I was relieved about four days ago by another officer (Roscoe), who shares with me the duties of machine-gun officer. So I am in a dug-out about three-quarters of a mile behind the firing line while he is taking his turn in that line. (A mine has just gone off and shaken the ground, followed by a burst of heavy rifle firing. This makes the fourth mine this week! Two went off while I was up there, and the whole earth rocked for several seconds. The first three mines were theirs, this last may be ours, I don't know; we had one ready!)
"I'm not in the trenches at the moment, but most of the Battalion is. I was there for five days and then I was relieved about four days ago by another officer (Roscoe), who shares the machine-gun officer duties with me. So I’m in a dugout about three-quarters of a mile behind the front line while he’s on duty. (A mine just exploded and shook the ground, followed by a burst of heavy gunfire. This is the fourth mine this week! Two went off while I was up there, and the whole ground shook for several seconds. The first three mines were from their side; this last one might be ours; we had one ready!)"
"We have been at Hill 60 and also up at Ypres. At present we are south of that appalling place, but I learn with regret that to-morrow we are moving again and are going up north of Ypres. We are all depressed in consequence.
"We have been at Hill 60 and up at Ypres. Right now, we are south of that awful place, but I’m sorry to hear that tomorrow we are moving again and heading north of Ypres. We’re all feeling down about this."
"What an awfully good letter you have written me; but, do you know, it makes me ache all over when you write like that about the car. You have only to mention you have got a Rover, and I am as keen as mustard to come and tinker with it! Aren't I young?
"What a painfully good letter you’ve written me; but, you know, it makes me ache all over when you write like that about the car. Just mentioning that you have a Rover makes me so eager to come and play with it! Am I not young?"
"But you must know I want to come to New Park in any case. I am awfully keen to stay there and see it from inside, and see its inmates again after many years (it feels like). So after the war (may it be soon!) I am just going to arrive. I may let you know!
"But you should know that I really want to come to New Park no matter what. I'm really excited to stay there and see it from the inside, and to catch up with its residents again after so many years (it feels like). So after the war (hopefully it ends soon!), I’m just going to show up. I might give you a heads up!"
"Your remarks on weddings in general depress me very much! I hope the bridegroom's lot is better than the poor bride's. Because my turn is bound to come!
"Your thoughts on weddings in general really bring me down! I hope the groom's experience is better than the poor bride's, because my time is sure to come!"
"I am so glad Hester gave a good account of my [ 59] appearance. I am very fit, it is the only way to exist here. Once you begin to get 'down' and to worry, it is all up with you. You go into a rapid decline, and eventually arrive home a wreck! But as long as you smile and don't care a hang about anything, well the war seems to go on quite all right!
"I’m really grateful that Hester gave a positive report about my appearance. I am in great shape; it’s the only way to get by here. Once you start feeling 'down' and worrying, everything goes downhill fast. You spiral into a quick decline and eventually come home a mess! But as long as you keep smiling and don’t stress about anything, the war seems to carry on just fine!"
"I enjoyed my few days' leave very much indeed. I had five days in England and three full days and four nights at home. I dropped into my old life just as if no change had occurred. And the time was not long enough to make the getting back difficult.
"I really enjoyed my few days off. I spent five days in England and had three full days and four nights at home. I slipped right back into my old life as if nothing had changed. The time wasn't long enough for it to feel hard to return."
"This life is a change for me, as you say. I haven't done laughing at its humorous side yet. In some ways we get treated like schoolboys. More so at Crosby than here, however."
"This life is a change for me, as you say. I haven’t stopped laughing at its funny side yet. In some ways, we get treated like schoolboys. More so at Crosby than here, though."
"Saturday, 7 August 1915, 7.30 p.m.
Saturday, August 7, 1915, 7:30 PM
"I have been having rather a bad time lately,—one of those times that reminds one that it is war and not a picnic,—but, thank goodness, it is all over now.
"I've been going through a really tough time lately—one of those moments that remind you it's war and not a picnic—but thankfully, it's all behind me now."
"I think I told you that we were about to move up north of Ypres, to St. Julien or thereabouts. Well, just before we handed over these trenches to one of Kitchener's Battalions, the Germans went and knocked down a lot of our parapet, and also sent over some appalling things that we call 'sausages,' or 'aerial torpedoes,' though they are not the latter. They are great shell-shaped affairs, about 3 feet along and 9 inches in diameter, I should think. They are visible during the whole of their flight. They are thrown up about 100 yards into the air and fall down as they go up, broadside on—not point first. A few seconds after they fall there is the most appalling explosion I have ever heard. From a distance of 100 yards the rush of air is so strong that it feels as if the thing had gone off close at hand. Luckily there is a slight explosion when they are sent up, and, as I said, they are visible all the time in the air. The result is our men have time to dodge them, provided they are not mesmerised as one man was. He got stuck with his mouth open, pointing at one! A Corporal gave him a push which sent him 10 yards, and the 'sausage' landed not far from [ 60] where he had been. Although they have sent more than twenty of these things over altogether, we have only had one casualty, and that a scratch. Their effect is to terrify every one and keep them on tenterhooks watching for them. Their purpose is to destroy mine galleries, I believe....
"I think I mentioned we were about to move up north of Ypres, to St. Julien or somewhere nearby. Well, just before we handed over these trenches to one of Kitchener's Battalions, the Germans destroyed a lot of our parapet and also launched some horrible things we call 'sausages' or 'aerial torpedoes,' even though they aren't actually torpedoes. They’re large shell-shaped objects, roughly 3 feet long and 9 inches wide, I’d guess. You can see them all the way down as they fly through the air. They are shot about 100 yards high and fall sideways—not point first. A few seconds after they land, there’s the loudest explosion I’ve ever heard. From 100 yards away, the rush of air is so strong it feels like it detonated right next to you. Luckily, there’s a small explosion when they’re launched, and as I mentioned, you can see them overhead the entire time. This gives our guys a chance to dodge them, unless they’re frozen in place like one guy was. He was so stunned he just stood there, mouth agape, staring at one! A Corporal had to push him out of the way, and he ended up about 10 yards away, while the 'sausage' landed not far from [ 60] where he had been. Even though they've sent over more than twenty of these things in total, we’ve only had one injury, and that was just a scratch. They really freak everyone out and keep them on edge waiting for more. Their purpose is supposedly to destroy mine galleries, I think...."
"Monday, August the 2nd, was the day we should have been relieved, and that night I went up from headquarters and relieved Roscoe, who had had a bad time in the fire trenches....
"Monday, August 2nd, was the day we were scheduled to be replaced, and that night I went up from headquarters to take over from Roscoe, who had a tough time in the frontline trenches...."
"They were firing armour-piercing shells that go right in and blow the parapet to blazes; dug-outs too, of course, if they happen to be near. After punishing the right end of the left-hand bit of trench, they traversed along, laying waste the whole of our bit.
"They were firing armor-piercing shells that tear through and blow the barricade to pieces; shelters too, of course, if they happen to be near. After destroying the right end of the left section of the trench, they moved along, wrecking our entire area."
"I was in my dug-out with Hogg, another officer. I was trying to make tea, but every shell blew out the Primus, and covered us in dust. I made it, however, eventually, and we had just drunk it when a shell blew the parados of the trench down, not far from our door, and the next wrecked the dug-out next door to mine (a man who happened to be inside having a miraculous escape). We judged it was time to clear (the machine guns had already been withdrawn to safety), and got away as best we could through and over the debris that had been a trench.
"I was in my dugout with Hogg, another officer. I was trying to make tea, but every shell knocked out the Primus and covered us in dust. I finally succeeded, and we had just finished it when a shell brought down the back wall of the trench not far from our door, and the next one destroyed the dugout next door (a guy who was inside managed to escape by a miracle). We figured it was time to leave (the machine guns had already been moved to safety), and we got out as best as we could through and over the wreckage that used to be a trench."
"Later in the day I made my way back, and recovered my pack and most of my belongings. It was exciting work getting back, because they were sending whizz-bangs through the gaps in the parapet, and the communication trenches in the rear were blocked in places, so that you had to get up on top and 'scoot' across and drop in the trench again.
"Later that day, I made my way back and collected my pack and most of my belongings. It was exciting to return, because they were firing whizz-bangs through the openings in the wall, and some parts of the communication trenches in the back were blocked, so you had to climb on top, hurry across, and drop back into the trench."
"That evening they gave us a second shelling, and one hit my dug-out fair and square (I had quarters in a support trench). When I returned next day for the rest of my things—my equipment and some provisions—I had to put two men on to dig them out. It took three-quarters of an hour to get at them, through the wreckage of timber, corrugated iron, and earth....
"That evening they shelled us again, and one hit my dugout directly (I was staying in a support trench). When I returned the next day to collect the rest of my stuff—my gear and some supplies—I had to get two guys to help dig it out. It took about forty-five minutes to reach it, buried under debris of wood, corrugated metal, and dirt...."
"On Tuesday afternoon they sent off another mine,—about the seventh since we have been in,—but they are [ 61] all well in front of our parapet. And on Wednesday they gave us twelve sausages—the first I had seen.
"On Tuesday afternoon, they set off another mine—about the seventh since we've been here—but they’re all clear in front of our parapet. And on Wednesday, they gave us twelve sausages—the first ones I had seen."
"The trouble is, we have a number of mine shafts under the ground between our trenches and theirs, and they are fearfully 'windy' about them. They keep trying to stop us mining them, and their shelling is with the object of blowing down our sap-heads. Their mines, too, go up short, because they are trying to blow in our galleries; or else they are so scared they send them off before they are ready. I think the last explanation is probably more near the truth, because when one of their mines went up recently a lot of Germans went up with it!...
"The issue is, we have several mine shafts underground between our trenches and theirs, and they are really worried about them. They keep trying to stop us from mining them, and their shelling is aimed at destroying our sap-heads. Their mines also misfire because they're trying to collapse our tunnels; or they’re just so anxious that they set them off before they’re ready. I believe the last explanation is probably the truth, because when one of their mines went off recently, a lot of Germans got blown up with it!...
"We have been in here a fortnight to-night. You can imagine how we long for clean clothes. Most of the officers have not been out of their clothes all that time, but I have been very lucky. I had two good cold baths when I was down here before, and to-day I had a lovely hot one in a full-length wooden bath. A tremendous luxury! Also I had some clean socks to put on....
"We've been here for two weeks tonight. You can imagine how much we want clean clothes. Most of the officers haven't changed out of their uniforms the whole time, but I've been pretty fortunate. I had two nice cold baths when I was down here before, and today I enjoyed a lovely hot bath in a full-length wooden tub. What a huge luxury! Plus, I had some clean socks to wear...."
"On the day I was shelled out of my dug-out my servant, Bailey, was hit on the leg by a piece of shell and has gone down the line wounded, not very seriously, I think. He is a great loss to me, but I have got another one now, Gray, who shapes very well. He is young and willing, and quite intelligent.
"On the day I was forced out of my dugout, my servant, Bailey, got hit in the leg by a shell fragment and has gone down the line injured, though not too badly, I believe. He’s a big loss for me, but I have another one now, Gray, who is doing quite well. He’s young, eager, and pretty smart."
"You ask whether that time when the mine went off was the first time I had used these guns. Yes, absolutely. The plan adopted in trench warfare is to place your guns in position with a good wide loophole in front of them, then block this up and keep a sharp look-out. When the enemy attacks, you blaze away at them, and then shift hurriedly to another gun-position and watch the old one being shelled to blazes.
"You want to know if that was the first time I used these guns when the mine exploded. Yes, absolutely. The strategy in trench warfare is to set up your guns behind a wide loophole, then cover it up and keep a close watch. When the enemy attacks, you fire at them, and then quickly move to another gun position and see the old one getting destroyed."
"If you fire on other occasions you are rather apt to have your guns knocked out, and we can't afford to lose any. That is why I was rather horrified to find one gun had fired 500 rounds the other night. However, it was not discovered. I think the long grass in front hid the flashes....
"If you shoot at other times, you're likely to damage your guns, and we can't afford to lose any. That's why I was pretty shocked to find that one gun had fired 500 rounds the other night. However, it went unnoticed. I think the tall grass in front covered the flashes...."
"Yes, the sandbags might be damp when used for a bed, and I always lay my waterproof ground-sheet on top of them. I either sleep on that or on some new clean bags [ 62] laid above that again. It is not only dampness, though, that one fears!
"Yes, the sandbags might be wet when used as a bed, and I always place my waterproof groundsheet on top of them. I either sleep on that or on some new clean bags [ 62] laid on top of that again. It’s not just the dampness that you have to worry about!"
"As a matter of fact, one is not very sensitive to damp when living so much out of doors. It is common to get one's feet slightly wet and go for about four days without removing one's boots—most unpleasant, but not in the least damaging to health."
"Actually, when you spend a lot of time outside, you don't really notice being damp. It's pretty normal to get your feet a bit wet and go up to four days without taking off your boots—it’s not enjoyable, but it doesn't harm your health at all."
"Monday, 16 August 1915, Noon
"Monday, 16 August 1915, Noon
"We are now out and resting after doing a long spell. I did nineteen days, and some did a few more days than that. Three weeks is a long time to live continuously in clothes, boots, and puttees....
"We’ve just come out and are resting after a long stretch. I spent nineteen days in the trenches, and some spent even longer. Three weeks is a long time to be stuck in clothes, boots, and puttees...."
"I came out of the trenches on Thursday night, and was really a day too soon, because on Friday we were having Orderly-Room right in the country, in front of the C.O.'s tent; the Colonel was there surrounded by most of the officers, when we heard a shell. Well, that's nothing unusual, but this one got crescendo, and we all looked up in alarm. Then it got very crescendo, and finally cleared us and landed with a loud explosion about 50 yards beyond us, and not far from several groups of men. It was an 8-inch 'crump.' One man only was killed, but we knew that more were likely to come over, and so we gradually spread out to the sides. Four came altogether at two-minute intervals, but we only had two casualties. Rather upsetting when we were supposed to be resting. I don't know whether they could see our (officers') white tents, or whether they saw the cricket match that took place on the day before.
"I came out of the trenches on Thursday night, a day earlier than planned, because on Friday we had an Orderly-Room meeting out in the countryside, right in front of the C.O.'s tent. The Colonel was there with most of the officers when we heard a shell. That’s not unusual, but this one was getting louder, and we all looked up in alarm. Then it got even louder and finally exploded with a bang about 50 yards away, close to several groups of men. It was an 8-inch 'crump.' Only one man was killed, but we knew more could be incoming, so we gradually spread out to the sides. Four shells landed in total at two-minute intervals, but we only had two casualties. It was pretty unsettling when we were supposed to be resting. I don’t know if they could see our (officers') white tents or if they noticed the cricket match that took place the day before."
"Anyway we moved our tents slightly—every one put their tents where they pleased, and then the Pioneer Sergeant came and amused himself daubing green paint on them in patches. Ours (three of C Coy.) was the best; the splodges looked just like hazel nuts (?) when there are three together in their little green cases, and they were interspersed with a kind of pansy-shaped flower. Altogether a very tasteful and pleasing effect....
"Anyway, we shifted our tents a bit—everyone set up their tents wherever they liked, and then the Pioneer Sergeant came by and had some fun splattering green paint on them in patches. Ours (three from C Coy.) looked the best; the blobs resembled hazelnuts (?) when three are together in their little green cases, mixed with a flower shape like a pansy. Overall, it created a very stylish and attractive look...."
"A couple of gun stocks have come. They arrived from Walker's, the makers, and I should very much like to know who had them sent. They are ripping, sniping attachments with periscopes for use with the ordinary rifle. [ 63] I shall stick to one, and unless I hear otherwise I shall present the other one to our sniping officer (honorary rank)."[5]
A couple of gun stocks have arrived. They came from Walker's, the manufacturers, and I really want to know who sent them. They are incredible sniping attachments with periscopes designed for regular rifles. [ 63] I will keep one, and unless I hear otherwise, I’ll give the other one to our sniping officer (honorary rank).__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
"Wednesday, 25 August 1915, 3 p.m.
Wednesday, August 25, 1915, 3 p.m.
"I am in the trenches once more. We marched in (about 10 miles) last night. We had a meal at 3 p.m., and marched off soon after six. Our rations (officers') went astray, because they were on a hand-cart in charge of our servants, who missed their way, so we have had practically nothing to eat since late lunch yesterday, and are pretty hungry. I have had a piece of chocolate, and my water-bottle was nearly full of lemon squash....
"I’m back in the trenches again. We marched in (about 10 miles) last night. We had a meal at 3 p.m. and left soon after six. Our officers' rations got lost because they were on a hand-cart with our cooks, who took a wrong turn, so we haven’t eaten much since late lunch yesterday and are pretty hungry. I had a piece of chocolate, and my water bottle was nearly full of lemon squash..."
"We are in support trenches at Hooge, just on the left of our former position up here. Except for some shelling (chiefly ours), things are fairly quiet.
"We're in support trenches at Hooge, just to the left of our old position here. Aside from some shelling (mostly from our side), things are pretty quiet."
"Since we were here last the position is greatly improved; the Germans have been driven over the ridge in front (during the recapture of trenches here), and the whole place is much 'healthier' in consequence....
"Since we were last here, the situation has greatly improved; the Germans have been pushed back over the ridge in front (during the recapture of trenches here), and the whole area feels much 'healthier' as a result....
"I have been out here five calendar months to-day, and in the Army just over eleven months. They will be pensioning me off soon as an old soldier."
"I've been out here for five months today, and I've been in the Army for just over eleven months. They'll be retiring me soon as an old soldier."
"29 August 1915, 11.30 a.m.
"August 29, 1915, 11:30 a.m.
"I am having a very quiet and lazy time at the moment, and feel I deserve it. We went into support trenches for three days, and worked two nights from 7.30 p.m. till 3 a.m. building and improving the fire trench. Then on the third night we had a most exciting time. One company, under Captain Taylor, was sent up right in front to dig a new fire trench to connect with another on our left. We had to go up a trench which ran right out into space, and which had only just been built itself, and when there we had to get over the parapet and creep forward to the new line we were to dig. Of course we had to be dead quiet, but there was a big moon, and of course they saw us. Most of the way we were not more than 30 yards away from their front position (and they had bombing parties out in front of that). While we were [ 64] digging we had one platoon with bombs to cover us, and some of this party were as close as 25 yards to their front position. It was awful work, because they kept throwing bombs at us, and what was almost worse was the close-range sniping.
"I'm currently enjoying some well-deserved downtime. We spent three days in the support trenches and worked two nights from 7:30 p.m. to 3 a.m. on building and improving the fire trench. On the third night, we had quite an exhilarating experience. One company, led by Captain Taylor, was sent directly to the front to dig a new fire trench that would connect with another on our left. We had to move up a trench that went out into open space, which had only been recently constructed, and once we got there, we had to climb over the parapet and crawl forward to the new line we were supposed to dig. Naturally, we had to remain completely silent, but there was a bright moon, so they spotted us. For most of the journey, we were only about 30 yards from their front line (and they had bombing teams out in front of that). While we were digging, we had one platoon with bombs covering us, and some of them were as close as 25 yards from their front line. It was terrifying work because they kept throwing bombs at us, and what was even worse was the sniping from close range."
"'Very' lights were going up from the German lines all the time, and you could see the bullets kicking up the dust all around. When we first got out there I picked out my ground pretty carefully before lying down (because the recent scrap there was much in evidence), but when the snipers got busy I didn't worry about what I was on, I just hugged the ground as close as I could. They would put the 'Very' lights right into us, and one just missed me by a yard. If they are not spent when they come down, they blaze fiercely on the ground, and when they finish, they look like a little coke fire. They would burn you badly if they fell on you. I have seen a dead man that one had fallen on afterwards. His clothes were fearfully burned.
"'Very' lights were constantly going up from the German positions, and you could see the bullets kicking up dust all around. When we first got out there, I picked my spot carefully before lying down (since the recent fighting was evident), but once the snipers started firing, I stopped worrying about my location and just pressed myself to the ground as tightly as I could. They would send the 'Very' lights directly at us, and one just barely missed me by a yard. If they don’t burn out before they land, they blaze brightly on the ground, and when they go out, they look like a little coke fire. They could seriously injure you if one landed on you. I saw a dead man who had one fall on him afterward; his clothes were horribly burned."
"The Germans were on the edge of a wood and our ground was tipped towards them, so it was extremely difficult to get cover. Shell holes were the best. Soon the men got their trenches down, and things were a little better. The men worked extremely well, and the Wilts were working on our left, and we eventually joined up with them. After about five hours' work, the trenches were fit to hold, and we filed out and the new garrison filed in. Our casualties were much lighter than I should have thought possible. The Colonel came along the new trenches just before we left, and he was most awfully pleased with C Company, and so is the General. Captain Taylor is very bucked about it.
"The Germans were right next to a forest and our ground sloped toward them, making it really hard to find cover. The best option was shell holes. Soon, the men dug their trenches, and conditions improved a bit. They worked incredibly well, and the Wilts were on our left, and we eventually connected with them. After about five hours of work, the trenches were ready to be used, and we filed out while the new garrison came in. Our casualties were much lighter than I expected. The Colonel checked the new trenches just before we left, and he was really pleased with C Company, as was the General. Captain Taylor is pretty thrilled about it."
"The scene of this affair was right against the Château of Hooge, and close to the mine crater. We found a German machine gun half buried, but in good condition, and any number of souvenirs. The Captain has got a helmet—a dirty thing; he had to have it cleaned out, because part of the owner was still inside it! It is a rummy shape, so flat-topped and square, with a brass spike and a gold band down the back. I expect it was an officer's.
"The location of this event was right by the Château of Hooge and close to the mine crater. We found a German machine gun half-buried but in good condition, along with countless souvenirs. The Captain got a helmet—a dirty thing; he had to clean it out because part of the owner was still inside it! It was oddly shaped, flat-topped and square, with a brass spike and a gold band down the back. I expect it belonged to an officer."
"Oh! I have seen my first German (not counting prisoners). [ 65] I was standing up and a 'Very' light went up, so I kept perfectly still. I was looking towards the wood where the Germans were (I was 40 or 50 yards away), and I saw one quite distinctly walking into the wood.
"Oh! I saw my first German (not counting prisoners).[ 65] I was standing up when a 'Very' light went up, so I stayed perfectly still. I was looking toward the woods where the Germans were (I was 40 or 50 yards away), and I clearly saw one walking into the woods."
"Our men that were killed (sniped) were buried just behind, within a quarter of an hour of being hit. Rather awful.
"Our men who were killed by snipers were buried just behind us, within fifteen minutes of being hit. Quite terrible."
"The actual digging was rather trying in places, and in one case they actually came on a horse!—which dates it back to November, when we were pushed back to these positions in the first battle of Ypres.
"The actual digging was pretty challenging in some spots, and at one point, they even uncovered a horse!—which takes us back to November, when we were pushed back to these positions during the first battle of Ypres."
"The men in such places work with their respirators on and are often actually sick. I have had whiffs of the smell since in my food. Once smelt never forgotten. I can tell the difference between a man and a horse, but I don't know which I like least.
"The men in those areas work with their respirators on and often feel sick. I've caught a whiff of the smell in my food. Once you smell it, you’ll never forget it. I can tell the difference between a man and a horse, but I don't know which I prefer less."
"Rather a morbid topic, I am afraid. Well, after leaving the scene of our labours (and glad to get out), we called for our packs and had to march about two and a half miles. We were dead beat when we arrived here (nice safe dug-outs—roomy and comfortable—with our valises ready to sleep in when we arrived), but we found a good meal awaiting us, and about half-past four we 'got down to it' and slept till noon. Holden and I share a palatial dug-out, and we had breakfast in bed, and I did not get up till just before our evening meal at 7. I washed and dressed in slacks—had a meal, and later on went to bed again. This morning we had breakfast in bed again about 9.30, and then I got up, washed and shaved, dressed, and am now sitting on my bed, leaning against the wall writing my letters.
"A pretty dark topic, I’m afraid. Anyway, after leaving our work site (and happy to be out of there), we picked up our packs and had to walk about two and a half miles. We were completely exhausted when we got here (nice, safe dugouts—spacious and comfy—with our bags ready for us to crash in), but we found a good meal waiting for us, and around 4:30, we 'got down to it' and slept until noon. Holden and I share a luxurious dugout, and we had breakfast in bed. I didn’t get up until just before our evening meal at 7. I washed up, got dressed in sweatpants—had a meal, and later went to bed again. This morning, we had breakfast in bed again around 9:30, and then I got up, washed, shaved, got dressed, and am now sitting on my bed, leaning against the wall, writing my letters."
"The General let us off 'stand-to' because he knew we were fagged out; and it is a great mercy. Turning out fully dressed at about 2.30 a.m. and remaining up for an hour does not improve one's night's rest. I suppose, though, that we shall have to start it soon—perhaps to-night.
"The General let us skip 'stand-to' because he knew we were exhausted; and it’s a big relief. Getting up fully dressed at around 2:30 a.m. and staying up for an hour doesn’t do much for one’s sleep. I guess, though, that we’ll have to start it again soon—maybe tonight."
"We are here till to-morrow night, I believe, and then we go to some fairly nice trenches near the ones we were in last. We are short of subalterns—rather—and they have taken me off machine guns for the time being. I am sick, but I get a bit in when I can. In the last trench we [ 66] built (I and my platoon), not the exposed one, there was a machine-gun position, and I took great pleasure in building it a really good emplacement....
"We're here until tomorrow night, I think, and then we’re moving to some pretty decent trenches close to the last ones we were in. We're a bit short on junior officers—and they’ve temporarily taken me off machine guns. I’m not feeling great, but I jump in whenever I can. In the last trench we built (me and my platoon), not the exposed one, there was a machine-gun position, and I really enjoyed making a solid emplacement for it....
"Are you doing anything about getting me back for Munitions? I don't know what you think about it, and whether you think I ought to carry on out here. I am sure that after six months I shall be just about fed-up with this business, but am not sure that after a couple of months at home I shan't be wanting to come out again."
"Are you planning to do anything about getting me reinstated for Munitions? I’m not sure what your thoughts are on it, or if you think I should stay here. I’m certain that after six months I’ll be pretty much fed up with this situation, but I also wonder if after just a couple of months at home I might want to come back out again."
"Wednesday, 1 September 1915, 4.45 p.m.
"Wednesday, September 1, 1915, 4:45 PM
"I will just write you a short letter to let you know I am still well and happy, and still leading the strange life of the picnic-hermit.
"Just a quick note to let you know I'm doing well, happy, and still living the odd life of a picnic hermit."
"When I last wrote to you I believe I was in the very same spot as now, namely, support trenches in the neighbourhood of a now famous château. Last time we were in for three days, and on the night we left we had a very blood-curdling experience digging a trench which was to bring us closer to our friends the enemy. But they were inclined to resent our advances, and they welcomed us, not with open arms, but with lighted bombs. However, having completed our work to the great satisfaction of those in authority over us (namely, the Colonel and the General [Brigadier]), we made good our escape.
"When I last wrote, I believe I was in the same spot as now, specifically in the support trenches near a now-famous château. The last time we were there, we spent three days, and on the night we left, we had quite an intense experience digging a trench to get closer to the enemy. However, they weren't pleased with our progress and responded not with welcomes, but with grenades. Fortunately, after finishing our work to the satisfaction of the Colonel and the General [Brigadier], we managed to get away safely."
"Then for three blissful days we lived (with our valises) in some magnificent dug-outs in one of the safest spots in this accursed though much improved neighbourhood. These days we spent competing who could sleep furthest round the clock (if that is a permissible expression). I think I won, and on my record day I got up and dressed for dinner at about 7.30 p.m., made my bed afterwards, and got back into it again. This halcyon period was only interrupted once, when we all had to go out and dig a trench one night long. However, the worst feature of this expedition was the rain, which made 'going' very difficult, and things in general rather uncomfortable (especially for the men), so we hadn't much to grumble about.
"Then we spent three amazing days living (with our bags) in some fantastic dugouts in one of the safest spots in this cursed yet improved area. We spent those days competing over who could sleep the longest (if that’s the right way to say it). I think I won, and on my best day, I woke up and got ready for dinner around 7:30 PM, made my bed afterwards, and climbed back in. This peaceful time was only interrupted once when we had to dig a trench one long night. The worst part of that mission was the rain, which made it tough to relieve ourselves and created a lot of discomfort (especially for the guys), so we didn’t have too much to complain about."
"Then we came back here and the first night we slept in peace, getting up at about 3 a.m. ostensibly for the purpose of 'stand-to,' but really to brew ourselves some [ 67] cocoa. Then sleep till 9, 10, or 11, I forget which. I crawl to the door of my dug-out and shout for Gray, who lives just opposite. 'Breakfast!' I say, and he invariably asks, 'What will you have, sir?' just as if he could command the larders of the Carlton or the Linga.
"Afterward, we came back here and spent our first night sleeping peacefully, waking up around 3 AM supposedly for 'stand-to,' but really to make some [ 67] cocoa. Then we’d sleep until 9, 10, or 11; I can't quite remember. I crawl to my dug-out door and call for Gray, who lives right across from me. 'Breakfast!' I say, and he always asks, 'What will you have, sir?' as if he were ordering from the kitchens of the Carlton or the Linga."
"Knowing my rations, and that an attempt at humour would only put me off my plat du jour or daily round, I usually think for a few moments and then order eggs and bacon, and face the common task. The only variation I permit myself is that on one or two days in the week I funk the bacon and have boiled eggs. Where do the eggs come from? They are purchased out of the Mess fund by our Mess cook who lives with the Transport when we are in the trenches, and brings them up personally when the rations arrive at night. Yes, he has a 'cushy' time of it, does our Mess cook; and how can he avoid being happy, living as he does in a perpetual transport?
"Knowing my rations and that trying to joke would only distract me from my plat du jour or daily routine, I usually take a moment to think and then order eggs and bacon, tackling the usual task. The only change I allow myself is on one or two days a week when I skip the bacon for boiled eggs. Where do the eggs come from? They're purchased with the Mess fund by our Mess cook, who stays with the Transport when we’re in the trenches and personally brings them up when the rations arrive at night. Yes, our Mess cook has it pretty easy; how can he not be happy living in constant transport?"
"What of the days when no eggs are available? Why, then, horrible dictu, I have fried cheese and bacon!
"What about the days without eggs? Well, then, horrible dictu, I have fried cheese and bacon!"
"It occurs to me here, although all this was not written with intention, that this could be a good place to ask whether sausages are yet in season. If they are, a few cooked ones (or half cooked) sent out now and again would make a splendid variant for our menu.
"It occurs to me that even if this wasn't written on purpose, it might be a good time to ask if sausages are in season yet. If they are, sending some cooked (or half-cooked) ones every now and then would really enhance our menu."
"The meat season is hard to follow out here. Bully beef is such a hardy perennial. (This does not mean that we live on it—I never eat it, there is always a good supply of fresh beef.)
"The meat season is hard to keep track of out here. Canned beef is such a durable option. (This doesn’t mean we rely on it—I never eat it; there's always plenty of fresh beef available.)"
"Blackberries are coming on, I notice with pleasure, and I can usually tell what shells are in season (the season for sausages in this department is, let us hope, mercifully short. I believe we are now in the middle of the close-time for this sturdy little fellow, I trust he is not utilising it to increase and multiply).
"Blackberries are starting to show up, and I’m happy about that. I can generally tell which kinds are in season (thankfully, the sausage season in this area is pretty short. I think we’re currently in the middle of when this tough little guy isn’t around; I hope he's not using it to breed)."
"I am sorry I have had rather a sharp attack of parentheses lately, the touch of winter in the air cramps my style. And I really did think this was going to be quite a short letter. I cannot divine my moods, I find, I did not feel like writing until I got going.
"I apologize for the interruptions lately; the chill of winter in the air messes with my rhythm. I honestly thought this would be a short letter. I can’t figure out my moods; I didn’t feel like writing until I actually started."
"Please thank father very much indeed for the sniperscopes. [ 68] I have given one to the Captain of D Company, who is keen on everything. He is an engineer (civil), and is a most useful man out here. I have not tried mine yet, as I haven't been in a fire trench, and it would hardly be fair to use it in a support trench, the backs of our infantry in the trench in front being too easy a target to give the thing a fair trial.
"Please thank Dad very much for the sniperscopes. [ 68] I've given one to the Captain of D Company, who is really into everything. He’s a civil engineer and very helpful out here. I haven't tried mine yet since I haven't been in a firing trench, and it wouldn't be fair to use it in a support trench, as the backs of our infantry in the trench ahead would easily be targeted."
"Oh! I was telling you about my work in this trench but got switched off on to food. Last time I was here I (and my platoon) worked for two nights from 7.30 till 3 improving the parapets. Well, the second night of this period (last night) I had got all sorts of plans ready and was going to have a thoroughly good night building dug-outs, draining the trench, and building a second machine-gun emplacement (not my job really at the moment). However, word came along that the platoon was wanted to dig another trench right in front again and near the other one. They said, 'A covering party with bombs will be provided, and send in your casualty report in the morning!' So I asked if they were supplying stretchers and all complete! But they were not. It is a most cheering way of sending you off, is it not? It is a wonder they did not make us take up our own grave crosses, just in case.
"Oh! I was telling you about my work in the trench but got sidetracked onto food. The last time I was here, my platoon and I worked for two nights from 7:30 PM until 3 AM improving the parapets. Well, on the second night (last night), I had all sorts of plans and was ready to have a productive night building dugouts, draining the trench, and putting together a second machine-gun position (not really my job right now). However, we learned that the platoon was needed to dig another trench right in front of the other one. They said, 'A covering party with bombs will be provided, and send in your casualty report in the morning!' So I asked if they were supplying stretchers and everything! But they weren’t. That’s a really uplifting way to send you off, right? It’s amazing they didn’t make us carry our own grave crosses, just in case."
"(By the way, it is most impressive to meet two men walking along at night and one carrying a large white cross. The burying and decking of the graves is done very well here, and conscientiously. There is a special organisation for making the crosses, lettering them and putting them up. The position of the grave is reported to them, with the particulars, and they do the rest.)
"(By the way, it’s quite striking to see two men walking at night, one carrying a large white cross. They take great care of the graves here, and it's done with a lot of attention to detail. There’s a specific organization responsible for making the crosses, lettering them, and putting them up. They get notified about the grave's location and details, and they handle the rest.)"
"The great difference in last night's job was that I only had a platoon to deal with, while before the Captain had a whole company. Also I was not quite so close to the enemy (we were 30 yards off, and less, before), and the moon was mostly obscured. I determined not to let them know we were working, so I crept out and explored the ground with the Corporal of the covering party (this was the worst part of the job, because you did not know when you might not come across a party of the enemy in the many shell holes and old trenches with which the ground was covered). I had my large revolver in my pocket, but I did not [ 69] want to use it, as it would have given our game away.
"The big difference in last night's mission was that I only had to manage a platoon, while the Captain had an entire company before. Also, I was not as close to the enemy (we were 30 yards away, compared to less than that before), and the moon was mostly hidden. I decided not to let them know we were working, so I quietly went out and checked the area with the Corporal of the covering party (this was the most nerve-wracking part of the job because you never knew when you might stumble upon a group of enemies concealed in the many shell holes and old trenches around). I had my large revolver in my pocket, but I didn’t want to use it, as it would reveal our position."
"All went well, and I got the men placed out in absolute silence, with the covering party pushed out in front to listen and watch. The men worked very quietly, and when a light went up they got down and kept still. Lights were very few, because the enemy had got a working party out too—at one side, and we could occasionally hear them driving in stakes for wire.
"Everything went smoothly, and I positioned the men silently, with the cover team sent out front to listen and keep watch. The men moved very quietly, and when a light appeared, they dropped down and stayed still. There were only a few lights because the enemy had a work crew out too—on one side, and we could occasionally hear them driving stakes for the wire."
"We had to use picks in some places where the ground was stony, and these are the hardest to keep quiet. We got through it all right, and only one shot, I think, was fired all the time. It came fairly close, too. I am sure they guessed we were out, because when one light went up I hadn't time to get down, so I kept still and I plainly saw a Hun standing upright on his own parapet. He straightened up as the light grew bright, and I just caught sight of the movement and saw him then distinctly.
"We had to use picks in some rocky spots, and those are the hardest to keep quiet. We got through just fine, and I think only one shot was fired the whole time. It came pretty close, too. I’m sure they realized we were out there because when one flare went up, I didn’t have time to duck down, so I stayed still, and I clearly saw a German soldier standing on his own trench wall. He stood up when the flare lit up, and I caught the movement and saw him clearly then."
"The ground out there has been fought over a good deal, and there are plenty of souvenirs about. I have got one myself—a Hun rifle. The original owner, who was buried with it—probably by a shell—happened to lie exactly where we dug our trench, and we were obliged to move him elsewhere. I brought his rifle home and put it over the door of my dug-out. That was early this morning. But the enemy have been putting shrapnel over us (in reply to a good 'strafing' by our guns), and one piece has gone clean through the stock.
"The ground out there has seen a lot of fighting, and there are plenty of mementos scattered about. I have one myself—a German rifle. The original owner, who was buried with it—probably by a shell—was right where we dug our trench, so we had to move him. I brought his rifle home and hung it over the entrance of my dug-out. That was early this morning. But the enemy has been firing shrapnel at us (in response to a good bombardment from our guns), and one piece went right through the stock."
"Our artillery are going great guns nowadays. It certainly feels as if the shell supply was all right—or nearly so.
"Our artillery is firing at full strength these days. It definitely feels like the supply of shells is in good shape—or almost."
"I don't know whether we shall be wanted for any job to-night, or whether we shall rest, or whether I can get on with my projects. I must go round and see Captain T. in the other trench. By the way, he came to see how I was getting on last night about midnight, and was very pleased with the work and with the fact that we were having no casualties.
"I don't know if we'll be needed for any work tonight or if we’ll get a chance to relax, or if I can make progress on my projects. I need to go check on Captain T. in the other trench. By the way, he came to see how I was doing last night around midnight and was really pleased with the work and the fact that we weren't having any casualties."
"That cake was fine, and much appreciated in the Mess. The little knife you gave me when home on leave is proving most useful.
"That cake was great, and everyone in the Mess truly appreciated it. The small knife you gave me when I was home on leave is turning out to be very useful."
"Please thank Lionel for chocolate received and Alec for gourdoulis.
"Please thank Lionel for the chocolate I received and Alec for the gourdoulis."
"I have sent another box of Surplus Kit home addressed to Noël. Rather late to do it, I know, and I shall want one or two of the things sent back later, but not for a long time, and it is a relief to get rid of some of my impedimenta. The socks returned want mending. That reminds me, thank you and please thank Miss Leith very much for the socks. They are quite all right for size. Perhaps not so long and narrow in the foot might be better, but it doesn't seem to affect the wear; they are most comfortable.
"I've sent another box of surplus gear home addressed to Noël. I know it’s a bit late, and I’ll want to get a few things back later, but not for a while, and it’s nice to unload some of my extra stuff. The socks I got back need mending. That reminds me, thank you, and please extend my thanks to Miss Leith for the socks. They fit just fine. Maybe a shorter and wider foot would be better, but it doesn't seem to affect how they wear; they’re really comfortable."
"I am still attached to the Company and not to the machine guns—much to my annoyance."
"I’m still loyal to the Company and not to the machine guns—much to my frustration."
"Monday, 6 September 1915, 9.30 p.m.
Monday, September 6, 1915, 9:30 PM.
"Thank you so much for your inspiring and encouraging letter. I hope I am being useful out here. I sometimes doubt if I am very much use—not as much as I should like to be. Possibly I help to keep C Company officers more cheerful! I am very sorry they have taken me off machine guns for the present, I hope it may not be long.
"Thank you so much for your inspiring and encouraging letter. I hope I'm being helpful out here. I sometimes doubt whether I'm really doing much good—not as much as I'd like to. Maybe I help keep the C Company officers in better spirits! I'm really sorry they've taken me off machine guns for now; I hope it won't be for long."
"Great happenings are expected here shortly and we are going to have a share. We are resting at present and have been out a few days now. We had only two periods of three days each in the trenches last time in....
"Great things are expected here soon, and we're going to be part of it. Right now, we're resting and have been out for a few days. Last time, we spent only two stretches of three days each in the trenches..."
"Our last two days in the trenches were appallingly wet. My conduct would have given me double pneumonia at home. My rain-coat was soaked, so I had to sleep in shirt sleeves under my tunic, and the knees of my breeches were wet.
"Our last two days in the trenches were incredibly wet. My behavior would have given me double pneumonia at home. My raincoat was soaked, so I had to sleep in my shirt sleeves under my tunic, and my pants' knees were drenched."
"The next day the rain was incessant, and presently I found the floor of my dug-out was swimming—the water having welled up through the ground below and the sandbags.
"The next day, the rain wouldn’t stop, and soon I noticed that the floor of my dugout was flooded—the water had seeped up through the ground underneath and the sandbags."
"I didn't have to sleep on it luckily, because we were relieved that night. But before we went I had to turn out with fifty men and work till midnight in water up to one foot deep. So at 8.30 p.m. I got my boots full of cold water and sat out in them till 12, then marched some eight miles. After nine hours' rest and some breakfast [ 71] we came here, another three or four. It was nice to get a dry pair of boots and our valises and a tent.
"I was lucky that I didn't have to think it over, because we felt a sense of relief that night. But before we left, I had to team up with fifty guys and work until midnight in water about a foot deep. So at 8:30 p.m., I ended up with my boots full of cold water and sat in them until midnight, then marched about eight miles. After resting for nine hours and having some breakfast [ 71] we arrived here, which was another three or four miles. It felt great to get into a dry pair of boots, grab our bags, and set up a tent."
"That night I rode into Poperinghe with Captain Taylor, and we had a really good dinner there—great fun.
"That night I rode into Poperinghe with Captain Taylor, and we had an awesome dinner there—lots of fun."
"We have a full set of parades here unfortunately, otherwise things are all right....
"We have a packed schedule of parades here; unfortunately, otherwise everything is fine...."
"Alec has very kindly had a 'Molesworth' sent me. Most useful.
"Alec has been really nice and sent me a 'Molesworth.' Super useful."
"I would like a motor paper now and then, I think! The Motor for preference—or The Autocar. Aren't I young?
"I'd like a car magazine every now and then, I think! The Motor would be my first choice—or The Autocar. Am I not young?"
"Captain Taylor has sprained his ankle by falling from his horse one night, and has gone to a rest home near. So I am commanding C Company at the moment. Hope not for long. Too responsible at the present time of crisis.
"Captain Taylor sprained his ankle when he fell off his horse one night and went to a nearby rest home. So I'm currently in charge of C Company. I hope it won't be for long. There's too much responsibility right now during this crisis."
"9 September, 3.30 p.m.
"September 9, 3:30 p.m.
"Must just finish this off for post.
I just need to finish this up for the post.
"We have just had an inspection by the Army Corps Commander, Lieut.-General Plumer [Sir Herbert].
"We just had an inspection by the Army Corps Commander, Lieutenant General Plumer [Sir Herbert]."
"I am still in command of C Company, and had to call them to attention and go round with the General, followed by a whole string of minor generals, colonels, etc. He asked me a good many questions:—
"I'm still in charge of C Company and had to call them to attention and walk around with the General, followed by a whole line of lower-ranking generals, colonels, etc. He asked me a lot of questions:—"
"First.—How long had I had the Company? Then, how long had I been out? I said since March. He then asked if I had been sick or wounded even, and I said no!
"First. How long have I been with the Company? Then, how long have I been out? I said since March. He then asked if I had been sick or even wounded, and I said no!"
"Then he said, 'Good lad for sticking it!' at least I thought he was going to.
"Then he said, 'Good job for hanging in there!' at least that’s what I thought he was going to say."
"We are kept very busy nowadays. I must try and write a proper letter soon. I do apologise.
"We're really busy these days. I need to make sure I write a proper letter soon. I'm really sorry."
"A box of cigarettes has arrived from, I suppose, Alec. Virginias, I mean, and heaps of them.
A box of cigarettes has arrived from, I guess, Alec. Virginia brands, I mean, and a ton of them.
"We have just got another tent—we have been so short and have been sleeping five in. Now we shall be two in each. The new one is a lovely dove-grey—like a thundercloud. After the war I shall buy one.
"We just got another tent—we’ve been really cramped and have been sleeping five people in one. Now we’ll have two in each. The new one is a beautiful dove-grey—like a thundercloud. After the war, I'm definitely going to buy one."
"I shall be quite insufferable, I know; I shall want everything done for me on the word of command. Never mind—roll on the end of the war!
"I know I'll be impossible; I'll expect everyone to do everything for me just because I say so. But that's okay—bring on the end of the war!"
"Cheer-ho, lovely weather, great spirits! Aeroplane [ 72] [English] came down in our field yesterday slightly on fire. All right though.—Good-bye, much love,
"Hey there, beautiful weather, good vibes! An airplane [ 72] [English] landed in our field yesterday, a bit on fire. But it’s all good.—Goodbye, much love,"
"Raymond [Maurice]."
"Raymond [Maurice]."
"Sunday, 12 September 1915, 2 p.m.
"Sunday, September 12, 1915, 2 p.m.
"You will understand that I still have the Company to look after, and we are going into the front-line trenches this evening at 5 p.m. for an ordinary tour of duty. We are going up in motor buses!...
"As you can see, I'm still responsible for the Company, and we're heading to the front-line trenches this evening at 5 p.m. for a regular duty shift. We're taking motor buses!"
"Capt. T. thinks he will be away a month!"
"Capt. T. thinks he’ll be away for a month!"
Telegram from the Defense Ministry
"17 September 1915
"September 17, 1915
"Deeply regret to inform you that Second Lieut. R. Lodge, Second South Lancs, was wounded 14 Sept. and has since died. Lord Kitchener expresses his sympathy."
We are deeply saddened to inform you that Second Lieutenant R. Lodge, of the Second South Lancs, was injured on September 14 and has since died. Lord Kitchener extends his condolences."
Telegram from the King and Queen
21 September 1915
September 21, 1915
"The King and Queen deeply regret the loss you and the army have sustained by the death of your son in the service of his country. Their Majesties truly sympathise with you in your sorrow."
"The King and Queen are deeply saddened by your loss and the sacrifice you and the army have experienced with the passing of your son while serving his country. Their Majesties truly empathize with your grief."
Footnotes
Footnotes
[3] See Note by O. J. L. at the end of this letter.
[4] This must have been part of my book "The War and After."—O. J. L.
[5] Thos. Walker & Son, of Oxford Street, Birmingham, had kindly given me two periscope rifle-stock attachments with excellent mirrors, so as to allow accurate sighting.—O. J. L.
CHAPTER 3
Letters from Officers
SOME letters from other officers gradually arrived, giving a few particulars. But it was an exceptionally strenuous period at the Ypres salient, and there was little time for writing. Moreover, some of his friends were killed either at the same time or soon afterwards.
SOME letters from other officers gradually came in, providing a few details. But it was an especially intense time at the Ypres salient, and there was little time for writing. Additionally, some of his friends were killed either around the same time or shortly after.
The fullest account that has reached us is in the following
letter, which arrived eight months later:—
The most complete account we've received is in the following letter, which arrived eight months later:—
Letter From Lieutenant William Roscoe
To Sir Oliver Lodge
"7th Brigade Machine-Gun Company,
B.E.F., 16 May 1916
"7th Brigade Machine-Gun Company,
B.E.F., 16 May 1916"Dear Sir Oliver Lodge,—When I was lately on leave, a brother of mine, who had met one of your relatives, encouraged me to write and tell you what I knew of your son Raymond. I was in the South Lancashire Regiment when he joined the Battalion out here last spring, and I think spent the first spell he had in the trenches in his company.
"Dear Sir Oliver Lodge,—Recently, while I was on leave, a brother of mine who met one of your relatives encouraged me to reach out and share what I knew about your son Raymond. I was with the South Lancashire Regiment when he joined the Battalion out here last spring, and I believe he spent his first time in the trenches in his company."
"Afterwards I became Machine Gunner, and in the summer he became my assistant, and working in shifts we tided over some very trying times indeed. In particular during August at St. Eloi. To me at any rate it was most pleasant being associated together, and I think he very much preferred work with the gunners to Company work. Being of a mechanical turn of mind, he was always devising some new 'gadget' for use with the gun—for instance, a mounting for firing at aeroplanes, and a device for automatic traversing; and those of my men who knew [ 74] him still quote him as their authority when laying down the law and arguing about machine gunning.
"Later on, I became a Machine Gunner, and during the summer, he became my assistant. Working in shifts, we managed to get through some really tough times, especially in August at St. Eloi. I really enjoyed working with him, and I think he preferred being with the gunners over Company duties. He was always coming up with new 'gadgets' for the gun—like a mount for firing at airplanes and a device for automatic traversing. Those of my men who knew him still see him as their go-to expert on machine gunning. [ 74]"
"I wish we had more like him, and the endless possibilities of the Maxim would be more quickly brought to light.
"I wish we had more people like him; the endless possibilities of the Maxim would be discovered much faster."
"I am always glad to think that it was not in any way under my responsibility that he was killed.
"I’m always relieved to think that it wasn’t my responsibility that he was killed."
"During September times grew worse and worse up in the Ypres salient, culminating in the attack we made on the 25th, auxiliary to the Loos battle. The trenches were ruins, there was endless work building them up at night, generally to be wrecked again the next day. The place was the target for every gun for miles on either side of the salient.
"In September, conditions worsened in the Ypres salient, peaking with our attack on the 25th as part of the Loos battle. The trenches were in ruins, and we constantly had to rebuild them at night, only for them to be destroyed again the next day. The area was targeted by every gun for miles on both sides of the salient."
"Every day our guns gave the enemy a severe bombardment, in preparation for the attack, and every third or fourth day we took it back from them with interest: the place was at all times a shell trap.
"Every day, our guns pounded the enemy with heavy fire to prepare for the attack, and every third or fourth day, we took it back from them with a vengeance: it was always a shell trap."
"It was during this time that your son was killed. He was doing duty again with the Company, which was short-handed, and I remember one night in particular being struck with his cheerfulness on turning out to a particularly unpleasant bit of trench digging in front of our lines near the Stables at Hooge, a mass of ruins and broken trenches where no one could tell you where you might run across the enemy; but the men had to dig for hours on end, with only a small covering party looking out a few yards in front of them.
"It was during this time that your son was killed. He was on duty again with the Company, which was short-handed, and I remember one night in particular when I was struck by his cheerful attitude while we had to do some really unpleasant trench digging in front of our lines near the Stables at Hooge, a pile of ruins and broken trenches where no one knew where the enemy might be; but the men had to dig for hours with only a small lookout team monitoring a few yards in front of them."
"The morning your son was killed they were bombarding our trenches on the top of the hill, and some of the men were being withdrawn from a bad piece. He and Ventris were moving down the trench in rear of the party—which I think must have been seen—for a shell came and hit them both, but I think none of the men in front.
"On the morning your son died, they were shelling our trenches at the top of the hill, and some of the men were being pulled back from a tough position. He and Ventris were moving down the trench behind the group—which I think must have been visible—when a shell landed and hit them both, but I don’t think any of the men in front were affected."
"Some time later, I don't know how long, I was going up to the line to visit the guns, when I saw Ventris, who was killed, laid out ready to be carried down, and presently I saw your son in a dug-out, with a man watching him. He was then quite unconscious though still breathing with difficulty. I could see it was all over with him. He was still just alive when I went away.
"Some time later, I don’t know how long after, I was heading up to the front to visit the guns when I saw Ventris, who had been killed, laid out and ready to be carried down. Soon after, I saw your son in a dugout, with a man watching over him. He was unconscious but still breathing laboriously. I could tell it was all over for him. He was still alive when I left."
"Our regiment was to lose many more on that same hill [ 75] before the month was over, and those of us that remain are glad to be far away from it now; but I always feel that anyone who has died on Hooge Hill has at all events died in very fine company.—Yours sincerely,
"Our regiment would lose many more on that same hill [ 75] before the month ended, and those of us who are still here are relieved to be far away from it now; but I always feel that anyone who has died on Hooge Hill has at least died in really good company.—Yours sincerely,
"Signed William Roscoe,
Lieut. 2nd S. Lancs. Regt., attached
7th Brigade, M.G. Company"Signed William Roscoe,
Lieutenant 2nd South Lancashire Regiment, attached
7th Brigade, Machine Gun Company
Letter from Lieutenant Fletcher,
Great Crosby, Liverpool
"21 September 1915
"September 21, 1915
"Raymond was the best pal I've ever had, and we've always been together; in the old days at Brook Road, then in Edinburgh, and lastly in France, and nobody could ever have a better friend than he was to me.
"Raymond was the best friend I’ve ever had, and we’ve always been there for each other; from our days at Brook Road, then in Edinburgh, and finally in France, no one could have had a better friend than he was to me."
"I'll never forget the first day he came to us at Dickebusch, and how pleased we all were to see him again; and through it all he was always the same, ever ready to help anyone in any way he could, whilst his men were awfully fond of him and would have done anything for him."
"I’ll never forget the first day he joined us at Dickebusch, and how happy we all were to see him again; through it all, he remained the same, always ready to help anyone in any way he could, and the men really liked him and would have done anything for him."
"24 September 1915
"September 24, 1915
"I hear that we were digging trenches in advance of our present ones at St. Eloi last week, so it must have been then that he was hit, as he was awfully keen on digging new trenches, and heaps of times I've had to tell him to keep down when he was watching the men working....
"I heard that we were digging trenches ahead of our current ones at St. Eloi last week, so he must have gotten hit during that, since he was really eager to dig new trenches. I had to remind him several times to stay low while watching the men work..."
"I always thought he would come through all right, and I know he thought so himself, as, the last time I saw him, we made great plans for spending some time together when we got back, and it seems so difficult to realise that he has gone.
"I always thought he would be fine, and I know he thought so too because the last time I saw him, we made big plans to hang out when we got back. It’s so hard to accept that he is gone."
(Signed) Eric S. Fletcher."
(Signed) Eric S. Fletcher."
Letter from Lieutenant Case to Brodie
"Thursday, 23 September 1915
"Thursday, 23 September 1915
"Yes, I knew Raymond Lodge very well, and he was indeed a friend of mine, being one of the nicest fellows it has ever been my privilege to meet. I was with him when he died. This was how it happened to the best of my knowledge.
"Yes, I knew Raymond Lodge really well, and he was definitely a friend of mine—one of the nicest guys I've ever met. I was with him when he died. Here’s how it happened, as far as I know."
"'A' Company (the one I am in) and 'C' Company were in the trenches at the time. The gunners had sent up word that there was going to be a bombardment, and so they recommended us to evacuate the front-line trenches, in case the Hun retaliated, and it was whilst C Company were proceeding down the communication trench, till the bombardment was over, that the shell came which killed your brother. He was in command of C Company at the time, and was going down at the rear of his men, having seen them all safely out of the trenches. His servant, Gray, was hit first, in the head (from which he afterwards died). Then Lodge went along to tell the Sergeant-Major, and to see about assistance, farther down the trench. Whilst talking to the Company Sergeant-Major he was hit in the left side of the back, by a piece of shell, I think. Lower down the trench poor Ventris was hit and killed. As soon as I heard about it I went along to see if I could be of any use. I saw Lodge lying in a dug-out, with a servant looking after him. I saw he was badly hit, and tried to cheer him up. He recognised me and was just able to ask a few questions. That must have been about twenty minutes or so after he was hit. I think he lived about half an hour, and I don't think he suffered much pain, thank God.
"'A' Company (the one I'm in) and 'C' Company were in the trenches at the time. The gunners had warned us that a bombardment was coming, so they advised us to leave the front-line trenches in case the Germans retaliated. While C Company was moving down the communication trench until the bombardment was over, that’s when the shell hit that killed your brother. He was in charge of C Company at the time and was moving to the back of his men after ensuring they were all safely out of the trenches. His servant, Gray, was hit first in the head (and later died). Then Lodge went to inform the Sergeant-Major and arrange for help further down the trench. While he was talking to the Company Sergeant-Major, he got hit in the left side of his back by a piece of shell, I think. Further down the trench, poor Ventris was also hit and killed. As soon as I heard about it, I rushed to see if I could help. I found Lodge lying in a dug-out with a servant attending to him. I could see he was badly injured and tried to cheer him up. He recognized me and managed to ask a few questions. That was about twenty minutes or so after he was hit. I believe he lived for about half an hour, and thankfully, I don’t think he suffered much pain."
"I was very, very grieved at his death, for he was one of the very nicest fellows I have met. That he was universally liked, both by officers and men, it is needless to say....
"I was truly heartbroken by his death because he was one of the nicest guys I've ever met. It goes without saying that everyone liked him, both officers and men…"
"I was for nearly three months in C Company with your brother, and was thus able to see his extreme coolness and ability in military matters.
"I spent nearly three months in C Company with your brother, which allowed me to see his remarkable calmness and skill in military matters."
(Signed) G. R. A. Case"
(Signed) G. R. A. Case"
Letter from Lieutenant Case to Lady Lodge
"Friday, 24 September 1915
"Friday, 24 September 1915
"Need I say how grieved we all were at his loss? He was hit about midday, and died about half an hour or so afterwards. I forget the date, but I have written more fully to his brother. I don't think he suffered much pain. He was conscious when I arrived, and recognised me, I [ 77] think, and I remained with him for some time. I then went off to see if there was any possibility of finding the doctor, but all the telephone wires were cut, and even if we had been able to get the doctor up, it would have been of no avail. The stretcher-bearers did all that was possible.... Another subaltern, Mr. Ventris, was killed at the same time, as was his servant Gray as well.
"Do I really need to explain how devastated we all were by his loss? He was hit around midday and died about half an hour later. I can’t remember the exact date, but I’ve written more details to his brother. I don’t think he suffered much. He was conscious when I arrived and recognized me, I believe, and I stayed with him for a while. After that, I went to try to find a doctor, but all the phone lines were down, and even if we had gotten a doctor there, it wouldn’t have changed anything. The stretcher-bearers did everything they could... Another officer, Mr. Ventris, was killed at the same time, along with his servant Gray.
Letter from Captain S. T. Boast
"27 September 1915
"September 27, 1915
"First of all I beg to offer you and your family my sincere sympathies in the loss of your son, 2nd Lieut. Lodge. His loss to us is very great: he was a charming young fellow—always so very cheerful and willing, hard working, and a bright example of what a good soldier ought to be. He was a most efficient officer, and only recently qualified in the handling and command of Maxim guns—a most useful accomplishment in the present war. Briefly, the circumstances which led to his death were as follows:—
"First, I want to sincerely express my condolences to you and your family for the loss of your son, 2nd Lieut. Lodge. His death is a great loss for us: he was an amazing young man—always cheerful and eager, hardworking, and a fantastic example of what a good soldier should be. He was an exceptionally effective officer and had just recently qualified in operating and commanding Maxim guns—a very valuable skill in this war. Here's a brief account of the circumstances surrounding his death:—"
"On 14 September, C Company to which 2nd Lieut. Lodge belonged, was in position in a forward fire trench. During the morning the commander of the artillery covering the position informed 2nd Lieut. Lodge, who at the time was in command of C Company, that it was intended to shell the enemy's positions, and as his trenches were only a short distance from ours, it was considered advisable to withdraw from our trench during the shelling. 2nd Lieut. Lodge gave orders for his Company to withdraw into a communication trench in the rear. He and 2nd Lieut. Ventris were the last to leave the forward trench, and in entering the communication trench both these officers were caught by enemy's shrapnel. Ventris was killed—Lodge mortally wounded and died of his wounds shortly afterwards. These are the circumstances of his death."
"On September 14, C Company, led by 2nd Lieutenant Lodge, was stationed in a forward fire trench. In the morning, the artillery commander for the area informed 2nd Lieutenant Lodge, who was in charge of C Company at that time, that they intended to shell the enemy positions. Since the enemy trenches were only a short distance away, it was deemed prudent to withdraw from our trench during the shelling. 2nd Lieutenant Lodge ordered his company to move to a communication trench in the rear. He and 2nd Lieutenant Ventris were the last to leave the forward trench, and as they entered the communication trench, both officers were struck by enemy shrapnel. Ventris was killed, and Lodge suffered fatal wounds, dying from his injuries shortly after. These are the details of his death."
From Captain A. B. Cheves, R.A.M.C.
"22 September 1915
"22 September 1915
"The Colonel has asked me to write you, giving some idea of the burial-ground in which your son's grave is. I understand that he was leading his Company back from one of the communication trenches when the Germans shelled the front and rear of the column, killing your son and the officer who was at the rear. At the same time one man was killed and two wounded. I knew nothing about this until later in the day, as communication with my aid post was very difficult, and he was reported to me as having been killed. I understand that he lived for about three hours after being wounded, and all the officers and men who were present speak very highly of his conduct during this time. His wound was unfortunately in such a position that there was no chance of saving his life, and this was recognised by all, including your son himself. When his body was brought down in the evening the expression on his face was absolutely peaceful, and I should think that he probably did not suffer a great deal of pain. He was buried on the same evening in our cemetery just outside the aid post, side by side with Lieut. Ventris, who was unfortunately killed on the same day. The cemetery is in the garden adjoining a ruined farm-house. It is well enclosed by hedges, and your son's grave is under some tall trees that stand in the garden. There are graves there of men of many regiments who have fallen, and our graves are enclosed by a wire fence, so keeping them quite distinct from the others. There is a wooden cross marking the head of the grave, and a small one at the foot. I am afraid that our condolences will be small consolation to you, but I can assure you that he was one of the most popular officers with the Battalion, both amongst the officers and men, and all feel his loss very greatly."
"The Colonel has asked me to inform you about the burial site where your son is resting. I understand he was leading his Company back from one of the communication trenches when the Germans shelled both the front and the rear of the column, which led to your son's death along with that of the officer at the rear. At that moment, one man was killed and two were wounded. I didn’t find out about this until later in the day due to very difficult communication with my aid post, where he was reported as having been killed. I understand he lived for about three hours after being wounded, and all the officers and men who were there speak very highly of how he acted during that time. Unfortunately, his wound was in such a place that there was no chance of saving his life, and everyone, including your son, recognized this. When his body was brought down in the evening, his expression was completely peaceful, and I believe he likely didn’t suffer much pain. He was buried that same evening in our cemetery just outside the aid post, next to Lieut. Ventris, who was also killed that day. The cemetery is in the garden next to a ruined farmhouse, well enclosed by hedges, and your son's grave is beneath some tall trees in the garden. There are graves of men from many regiments who have fallen, and our graves are surrounded by a wire fence, keeping them separate from the others. A wooden cross marks the head of the grave, with a small one at the foot. I’m afraid our condolences will offer little comfort to you, but I can assure you that he was one of the most respected officers in the Battalion, both among the officers and the men, and everyone feels his loss deeply."
Information sent by Captain Cheves to Mrs. Ventris, mother of the Second Lieutenant who was killed at the same time as Raymond and buried with him:—
Information sent by Captain Cheves to Mrs. Ventris, mother of the Second Lieutenant who was killed at the same time as Raymond and buried with him:—
"He was buried on the right of the Ypres-Menin Road, [ 79-80] just past where the Zonebeke Rail cuts. If you can get hold of Sheet 28, Belgium 1/40,000, the reference is I. 16. b 2. Any soldier will show you how to read the map."
"He was buried on the right side of the Ypres-Menin Road, [ 79-80] just past where the Zonebeke Rail crosses. If you can get a copy of Sheet 28, Belgium 1/40,000, the reference is I. 16. b 2. Any soldier can help you read the map."
Letter from a Foreman
[I also append a letter received from a workman who
used to be at the same bench with Raymond when he was
going through his workshop course at the Wolseley Motor
Works. Stallard is a man he thought highly of, and befriended.
He is now foreman in the Lodge Fume Deposit
Company, after making an effort to get a berth in Lodge
Brothers for Raymond's sake. He is now, and has been
since the war began, the owner of Raymond's dog Larry,
about whom some local people remember that there was
an amusing County Court case.]
[I also include a letter from a worker who used to share a bench with Raymond during his workshop course at the Wolseley Motor Works. Stallard is someone he respected and who became a friend. He is now the foreman at the Lodge Fume Deposit Company, after trying to get a job at Lodge Brothers for Raymond's benefit. He has been, since the war started, the owner of Raymond's dog Larry, about whom some local residents recall an amusing County Court case.]
"98 Mansel Road, Small Heath, Birmingham,
17 September 1915
"98 Mansel Road, Small Heath, Birmingham,
17 September 1915"Dear Mr. Lionel,—The shock was too great for me to speak to you this afternoon. I should like to express to you, and all the family, my deepest and most heartfelt sympathy in your terrible loss. Mr. Raymond was the best friend I ever had.
"Dear Mr. Lionel,—I was too stunned to speak with you this afternoon. I want to express my heartfelt sympathy to you and your family for your heartbreaking loss. Mr. Raymond was the best friend I ever had."
"Truly, I thought more of him than any other man living, not only for his kind thoughts towards me, but for his most admirable qualities, which I knew he possessed.
"Honestly, I valued him more than anyone else in the world, not just because of his kind thoughts about me, but also for the incredible qualities I knew he possessed."
"The memory of him will remain with me as long as I live.—Believe me to be, yours faithfully,
"The memory of him will stay with me for my entire life.—Trust me, I am yours sincerely,"
"(Signed) Norman Stallard"
"(Signed) Norman Stallard"
Footnotes
Footnotes
[6] Lieutenant Case himself, alas! was killed on the 25th of September 1915. It was a fatal time. Lieutenant Fletcher also has been killed now, on 3rd July 1916.
PART TWO: SUPERNORMAL PORTION
"Peace, peace! he is not dead, he doth not sleep—
"Peace, peace! He isn’t dead, he’s not sleeping—
He hath awakened from the dream of life."
He has awakened from the dream of life.
Shelley, Adonais.
Shelley, Adonais.
INTRODUCTION
I HAVE made no secret of my conviction, not merely that personality persists, but that its continued existence is more entwined with the life of every day than has been generally imagined; that there is no real breach of continuity between the dead and the living; and that methods of intercommunion across what has seemed to be a gulf can be set going in response to the urgent demand of affection,—that in fact, as Diotima told Socrates (Symposium, 202 and 203), Love bridges the chasm.
I haven't hidden my belief that personality continues to exist and that its ongoing presence is more connected to everyday life than most people realize; there’s no real break in continuity between the dead and the living; and that ways to connect across what seems like a divide can be initiated in response to a deep need for love—indeed, as Diotima told Socrates (Symposium, 202 and 203), Love crosses the gap.
Nor is it affection only that controls and empowers supernormal intercourse: scientific interest and missionary zeal constitute supplementary motives which are found efficacious; and it has been mainly through efforts so actuated that I and some others have been gradually convinced, by direct experience, of a fact which before long must become patent to mankind.
Nor is it just love that influences and drives extraordinary interactions: scientific curiosity and a passionate desire to help are additional motivations that prove effective; and it's primarily through efforts fueled by these motives that I and some others have slowly been convinced, through firsthand experience, of a truth that will soon be obvious to everyone.
Hitherto I have testified to occurrences and messages of which the motive is intellectual rather than emotional: and though much, very much, even of this evidence remains inaccessible to the public, yet a good deal has appeared from time to time by many writers in the Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research, and in my personal collection called The Survival of Man. No one therefore will be surprised if I now further testify concerning communications which come home to me in a peculiar sense; communications from which sentiment is not excluded, though still they appear to be guided and managed with intelligent and on the whole evidential purpose. These are what I now decide to publish; and I shall cite them as among those evidences for survival for the publication of which some legitimate demand has of late been made, owing to my having [ 84] declared my belief in continued existence without being able to give the full grounds of that belief, because much of it concerned other people. The portion of evidence I shall now cite concerns only myself and family.
So far, I have shared events and messages that are more about intellectual understanding than emotional reactions. While a lot of this evidence is still not available to the public, some has been periodically published by various authors in the Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research, as well as in my personal collection titled The Survival of Man. Therefore, no one should be surprised that I am now going to discuss communications that resonate with me in a unique way; these communications do involve sentiment, but they still seem to be guided and organized with a clear, evidential purpose. This is what I have decided to publish now, and I will refer to them as part of the evidence for survival, for which there has been a legitimate request recently, since I expressed my belief in continued existence without being able to fully explain my reasons, as much of it relates to other people. The evidence I will present now only concerns myself and my family.
I must make selection, it is true, for the bulk has become great; but I shall try to select fairly, and especially shall give in fair fulness those early communications which, though not so free and easy as they became with more experience, have yet an interest of their own, since they represent nascent powers and were being received through members of the family to whom the medium was a complete stranger and who gave no clue to identity.
I do need to make a selection, it’s true, since the amount has gotten quite large; but I’ll do my best to choose fairly, and especially I’ll provide a good amount of those early communications which, even though they weren’t as relaxed and easy as they became with more experience, still hold their own interest because they represent developing abilities and were received through family members who were complete strangers to the medium and gave no hints about their identity.
Messages of an intelligible though rather recondite character from "Myers" began to reach me indeed a week or two before the death of my son; and nearly all the messages received since his death differ greatly in character from those which in the old days were received through any medium with whom I sat. No youth was then represented as eager to communicate; and though friends were described as sending messages, the messages were represented as coming from appropriate people—members of an elder generation, leaders of the Society for Psychical Research, and personal acquaintances. Whereas now, whenever any member of the family visits anonymously a competent medium, the same youth soon comes to the fore and is represented as eager to prove his personal survival and identity.
Messages that were confusing yet somewhat meaningful from "Myers" started coming to me about a week or two before my son passed away; and nearly all the messages I've received since his death are very different from those I used to get through any medium I sat with. Back then, no young person was eager to communicate; and while friends were said to be sending messages, they were from suitable individuals—older members, leaders of the Society for Psychical Research, or personal acquaintances. Now, whenever any family member visits a reliable medium anonymously, the same young man quickly comes forward and is eager to prove his survival and identity.
I consider that he has done so. And the family scepticism, which up to this time has been sufficiently strong, is now, I may fairly say, overborne by the facts. How far these facts can be conveyed to the sympathetic understanding of strangers, I am doubtful. But I must plead for a patient hearing; and if I make mistakes, either in what I include, or in what for brevity I omit, or if my notes and comments fail in clearness, I bespeak a friendly interpretation: for it is truly from a sense of duty that in so personal a matter I lay myself open to harsh and perhaps cynical criticism.
I believe he has done just that. The family’s skepticism, which has been quite strong until now, is, I can honestly say, being overcome by the facts. I'm unsure how well these facts can be communicated to outsiders who might empathize, but I ask for your patience as you listen. If I make mistakes, whether in what I include or leave out for the sake of brevity, or if my notes and comments aren't clear, I hope you'll interpret them kindly. It’s genuinely out of a sense of duty that I expose myself to harsh and possibly cynical criticism in such a personal matter.
It may be said—Why attach so much importance to one individual case? I do not attach especial importance to it, but every individual case is of moment, because in such a matter the aphorism Ex uno disce omnes is [ 85] strictly applicable. If we can establish the survival of any single ordinary individual we have established it for all.
It might be asked—Why put so much emphasis on one single case? I don't see it as particularly important, but every individual case matters because in this context, the saying Ex uno disce omnes is [ 85] completely relevant. If we can prove the survival of even one ordinary person, we’ve proven it for everyone.
Christians may say that the case for one Individual was established nearly 1900 years ago; but they have most of them confused the issue by excessive though perhaps legitimate and necessary emphasis on the exceptional and unique character of that Personality. And a school of thought has arisen which teaches that ordinary men can only attain immortality vicariously—that is, conditionally on acceptance of a certain view concerning the benefits of that Sacrificial Act, and active assimilation of them.
Christians might argue that the case for one individual was established almost 1900 years ago, but many of them have muddled the issue by placing too much emphasis—though it may be legitimate and necessary—on the exceptional and unique nature of that person. A school of thought has emerged suggesting that ordinary people can only achieve immortality indirectly, meaning their ability to attain it depends on accepting a specific view about the benefits of that sacrificial act and actively integrating those beliefs into their lives.
So without arguing on any such subject, and without entering in the slightest degree on any theological question, I have endeavoured to state the evidence fully and frankly for the persistent existence of one of the multitude of youths who have sacrificed their lives at the call of their Country when endangered by an aggressor of calculated ruthlessness.
So, without debating any of those topics and without touching on any theological matters, I’ve tried to clearly and honestly present the evidence for the ongoing existence of one of the many young people who have sacrificed their lives in response to their country's call when it was threatened by a ruthlessly calculated aggressor.
Some critics may claim that there are many stronger cases of established survival. That may be, but this is a case which touches me closely and has necessarily received my careful attention. In so far as there are other strong cases—and I know of several—so much the better. I myself considered the case of survival practically proven before, and clinched by the efforts of Myers and others of the S.P.R. group on the other side; but evidence is cumulative, and the discussion of a fresh case in no way weakens those that have gone before. Each stick of the faggot must be tested, and, unless absolutely broken, it adds to the strength of the bundle.
Some critics might argue that there are stronger examples of established existence after death. That may be true, but this case resonates with me personally and has definitely received my close attention. As far as there are other compelling cases—and I know of a few—then that’s a positive thing. I’ve previously viewed the case for survival as practically proven, supported by the work of Myers and others from the S.P.R. group on the other side; however, evidence builds over time, and discussing a new case doesn’t undermine the ones that have come before. Each piece of the bundle must be examined, and unless it’s completely broken, it contributes to the overall strength of the group.
To base so momentous a conclusion as a scientific demonstration of human survival on any single instance, if it were not sustained on all sides by a great consensus of similar evidence, would doubtless be unwise; for some other explanation of a merely isolated case would have to be sought. But we are justified in examining the evidence for any case of which all the details are known, and in trying to set forth the truth of it as completely and fairly as we may.
To draw such an important conclusion as a scientific proof of human survival from just one instance, unless it's backed by strong agreement from a lot of similar evidence, would clearly be unwise. We would need to find another explanation for a purely isolated case. However, we are entitled to examine the evidence for any case where we have all the details and to try to present the truth of it as fully and fairly as we can.
CHAPTER 1
BASIC EXPLANATION
FOR people who have studied psychical matters, or who have read any books on the subject, it is unnecessary to explain what a 'sitting' is. Novices must be asked to refer to other writings—to small books, for instance, by Sir W. F. Barrett or Mr. J. Arthur Hill or Miss H. A. Dallas, which are easily accessible, or to my own previous book on this subject called The Survival of Man, which begins more at the beginning so far as my own experience is concerned.
FOR people who have studied psychic topics or who have read any books on the subject, there’s no need to explain what a 'sitting' is. Beginners should be directed to other writings—like the small books by Sir W. F. Barrett, Mr. J. Arthur Hill, or Miss H. A. Dallas, which are easy to find, or to my earlier book on this topic titled The Survival of Man, which starts from the beginning regarding my own experience.
Of mediumship there are many grades, one of the simplest forms being the capacity to receive an impression or automatic writing, under peaceful conditions, in an ordinary state; but the whole subject is too large to be treated here. Suffice it to say that the kind of medium chiefly dealt with in this book is one who, by waiting quietly, goes more or less into a trance, and is then subject to what is called 'control'—speaking or writing in a manner quite different from the medium's own normal or customary manner, under the guidance of a separate intelligence technically known as 'a control,' which some think must be a secondary personality—which indeed certainly is a secondary personality of the medium, whatever that phrase may really signify—the transition being effected in most cases quite easily and naturally. In this secondary state, a degree of clairvoyance or lucidity is attained quite beyond the medium's normal consciousness, and facts are referred to which must be outside his or her normal knowledge. The control, or second personality which speaks during the trance, appears to be more closely in touch with what is popularly spoken of as 'the next world' than with customary human existence, and accordingly is able to get messages [ 87] through from people deceased; transmitting them through the speech or writing of the medium, usually with some obscurity and misunderstanding, and with mannerisms belonging either to the medium or to the control. The amount of sophistication varies according to the quality of the medium, and to the state of the same medium at different times; it must be attributed in the best cases physiologically to the medium, intellectually to the control. The confusion is no greater than might be expected from a pair of operators, connected by a telephone of rather delicate and uncertain quality, who were engaged in transmitting messages between two stranger communicators, one of whom was anxious to get messages transmitted, though perhaps not very skilled in wording them, while the other was nearly silent and anxious not to give any information or assistance at all; being, indeed, more or less suspicious that the whole appearance of things was deceptive, and that his friend, the ostensible communicator, was not really there. Under such circumstances the effort of the distant communicator would be chiefly directed to sending such natural and appropriate messages as should gradually break down the inevitable scepticism of his friend.
There are many levels of mediumship, with one of the simplest being the ability to receive impressions or automatic writing in a calm state and an ordinary mindset. However, the topic is too vast to cover fully here. It's enough to note that the type of medium mainly discussed in this book is one who, by sitting quietly, enters a trance and is then influenced by what is known as 'control'—communicating in a way that's quite different from their usual style, guided by a separate intelligence referred to as 'a control.' This is believed by some to be a secondary personality, which is indeed a secondary aspect of the medium, whatever that really means—the transition usually happens quite easily and naturally. In this altered state, the medium can access a kind of clairvoyance or insight that goes well beyond their normal awareness, and they refer to information that should be outside their normal knowledge. The control, or second personality that speaks during the trance, seems to be more connected to what people commonly call 'the next world' than to regular human life, allowing it to receive messages from deceased individuals, which are communicated through the medium's speech or writing, often with some confusion and misunderstanding, along with traits that belong either to the medium or the control. The level of clarity varies based on the medium's quality and their condition at different times; in the best scenarios, physiological aspects can be attributed to the medium, while intellectual aspects belong to the control. The confusion is no greater than what you might expect from two people communicating through a somewhat delicate and unreliable telephone, trying to send messages between two unfamiliar communicators, one eager to convey messages but perhaps not good at phrasing them, while the other is mostly silent and hesitant to provide any information or help, being somewhat skeptical that everything is genuine and that their friend, the supposed communicator, is not really present. In such cases, the effort of the distant communicator would mainly focus on sending natural and fitting messages to gradually dispel the inevitable doubts of their friend. [ 87]
Further Preliminary Explanation
I must assume it known that messages purporting to come from various deceased people have been received through various mediums, and that the Society for Psychical Research has especially studied those coming through Mrs. Piper—a resident in the neighbourhood of Boston, U.S.A.—during the past thirty years. We were introduced to her by Professor William James. My own experience with this lady began during her visit to this country in 1889, and was renewed in 1906. The account has been fully published in the Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research, vols. vi. and xxiii., and an abbreviated version of some of the incidents there recorded can be referred to in my book The Survival of Man.
I think it's well known that messages claiming to come from various deceased people have been received through different mediums, and that the Society for Psychical Research has particularly focused on those from Mrs. Piper—a resident of the Boston area, U.S.A.—over the past thirty years. We were introduced to her by Professor William James. My own experience with her started during her visit to this country in 1889 and continued in 1906. The details have been fully published in the Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research, vols. vi. and xxiii., and an abbreviated version of some of the incidents recorded there can be found in my book The Survival of Man.
It will be convenient, however, to explain here that some of the communicators on the other side, like Mr. [ 88] Myers and Dr. Richard Hodgson, both now deceased, have appeared to utilise many mediums; and that to allow for possible sophistication by normal mental idiosyncrasies, and for any natural warping due to the physiological mechanism employed, or to the brain-deposit from which selection has to be made, we write the name of the ostensible communicator in each case with a suffix—like MyersP, MyersV, etc.; meaning by this kind of designation to signify that part of the Myers-like intelligence which operates through Mrs. Piper or through Mrs. Verrall, etc., respectively.
It’s important to clarify that some of the communicators from the other side, like Mr. [ 88] Myers and Dr. Richard Hodgson, who are both now deceased, have used many mediums. To account for possible biases from regular mental quirks and any natural distortions caused by the physiological mechanisms used, or from the mental impressions that need to be selected, we write the name of the apparent communicator with a suffix in each case—like MyersP, MyersV, etc. This notation indicates the specific aspect of the Myers-like intelligence that is communicating through Mrs. Piper or through Mrs. Verrall, and so on.
We know that communication must be hampered, and its form largely determined, by the unconscious but inevitable influence of a transmitting mechanism, whether that be of a merely mechanical or of a physiological character. Every artist knows that he must adapt the expression of his thought to his material, and that what is possible with one 'medium,' even in the artist's sense of the word, is not possible with another.
We understand that communication can be limited, and its form is mostly shaped by the unintentional but unavoidable impact of the method used to convey it, whether that's a purely mechanical system or something physiological. Every artist knows they have to adjust how they express their ideas based on their materials, and what works with one 'medium,' even in the artist's sense of the word, may not work with another.
And when the method of communication is purely mental or telepathic, we are assured that the communicator 'on the other side' has to select from and utilise those ideas and channels which represent the customary mental scope of the medium; though by practised skill and ingenuity they can be woven into fresh patterns and be made to convey to a patient and discriminating interpreter the real intention of the communicator's thought. In many such telepathic communications the physical form which the emergent message takes is that of automatic or semiconscious writing or speech; the manner of the utterance being fairly normal, but the substance of it appearing not to emanate from the writer's or speaker's own mind: though but very seldom is either the subject-matter or the language of a kind quite beyond the writer's or speaker's normal capabilities.
And when communication happens purely through mental or telepathic means, we can be sure that the person "on the other side" has to choose from and use ideas and channels that match the usual mental range of the medium. However, with practiced skill and creativity, these can be woven into new patterns to convey the true intention of the communicator's thoughts to a patient and discerning interpreter. In many of these telepathic messages, the physical form they take is often through automatic or semi-conscious writing or speech. The way it's expressed seems fairly normal, but the content doesn't appear to come from the writer's or speaker's own mind. Still, it's rare for either the subject matter or the language to be completely beyond what the writer or speaker can normally handle.
In other cases, when the medium becomes entranced, the demonstration of a communicator's separate intelligence may become stronger and the sophistication less. A still further stage is reached when by special effort what is called telergy is employed, i.e. when physiological mechanism is more directly utilised without telepathic operation on the mind. And a still further step away from [ 89] personal sophistication, though under extra mechanical difficulties, is attainable in telekinesis or what appears to be the direct movement of inorganic matter. To this last category—though in its very simplest form—must belong, I suppose, the percussive sounds known as raps.
In other situations, when the medium falls into a trance, the evidence of a communicator's distinct intelligence may become more pronounced while the complexity decreases. A further stage is reached when special effort is applied to what is called telergy, meaning that the physiological mechanism is employed more directly without relying on telepathy to influence the mind. Another step away from personal sophistication, albeit with additional mechanical challenges, can be seen in telekinesis, or what seems to be the direct movement of non-living matter. To this last category—albeit in its simplest form—I suppose the percussive sounds known as raps must belong.
To understand the intelligent tiltings of a table in contact with human muscles is a much simpler matter. It is crude and elementary, but in principle it does not appear to differ from automatic writing; though inasmuch as the code and the movements are so simple, it appears to be the easiest of all to beginners. It is so simple that it has been often employed as a sort of game, and so has fallen into disrepute. But its possibilities are not to be ignored for all that; and in so far as it enables a feeling of more direct influence—in so far as the communicator feels able himself to control the energy necessary, instead of having to entrust his message to a third person—it is by many communicators preferred. More on this subject will be found in Chapters VIII of Part II and XIV of Part III.
To understand the smart movements of a table interacting with human muscles is a much simpler thing. It’s basic and straightforward, but in principle, it doesn’t seem to differ from automatic writing; however, since the code and the movements are so simple, it appears to be the easiest for beginners. It’s so simple that it has often been used as a kind of game, which has led to it being looked down upon. But its potential shouldn’t be overlooked; and to the extent that it allows for a sense of more direct influence—in that the communicator feels capable of controlling the energy needed, instead of relying on a third person to convey their message—it is favored by many communicators. More on this topic can be found in Chapters VIII of Part II and XIV of Part III.
Before beginning an historical record of the communications and messages received from or about my son since his death, I think it will be well to prelude it by—
Before starting a record of the communications and messages I’ve received about my son since his death, I think it’s a good idea to begin with—
- A message that came before the event;
- A collection of follow-up communications related to and adding to
this message;- One of the evidence episodes, chosen from follow-up communications,
which ended up being completely verifiable.
A few further details about these things, and another series of messages of evidential importance, will be found in that Part of the Proceedings of the S.P.R. which is to be published about October 1916.
A few more details about these things, along with another set of important messages, will be found in that part of the Proceedings of the S.P.R. that is set to be published around October 1916.
If the full discussion allowed to these selected portions appears rather complicated, an unstudious reader may skip the next three chapters, on a first reading, and may learn about the simpler facts in their evolutionary or historical order.
If the complete discussion of these selected sections seems a bit complicated, a casual reader might skip the next three chapters on their first read and instead focus on the simpler facts in their evolutionary or historical order.
Chapter 2
THE 'FAUNUS' MESSAGE
Preliminary Facts
Raymond joined the Army in September 1914; trained near
Liverpool and Edinburgh with the South Lancashires, and
in March 1915 was sent to the trenches in Flanders. In
the middle of July 1915 he had a few days' leave at home,
and on the 20th returned to the Front.
Ray joined the Army in September 1914, trained near Liverpool and Edinburgh with the South Lancashires, and in March 1915 was sent to the trenches in Flanders. In mid-July 1915, he had a few days' leave at home, and on the 20th, he returned to the Front.
Initial 'Piper' Message
The first intimation that I had that anything might be going wrong, was a message from Myers through Mrs. Piper in America; communicated apparently by "Richard Hodgson" at a time when a Miss Robbins was having a sitting at Mrs. Piper's house, Greenfield, New Hampshire, on 8 August 1915, and sent me by Miss Alta Piper (A. L. P.) together with the original script. Here follows the extract, which at a certain stage in Miss Robbins's sitting, after having dealt with matters of personal significance to her, none of which had anything whatever to do with me, began abruptly thus:—
The first hint I got that something might be off was a message from Myers through Mrs. Piper in America; it was apparently communicated by "Richard Hodgson" while Miss Robbins was having a session at Mrs. Piper's house in Greenfield, New Hampshire, on August 8, 1915, and was sent to me by Miss Alta Piper (A. L. P.) along with the original script. Here’s the excerpt, which at a certain point during Miss Robbins's session, after discussing matters that were personally important to her and had nothing to do with me, started abruptly like this:—
R. H.—Now Lodge, while we are not here as of old, i.e. not quite, we are here enough to take and give messages.
R. H.—Now Lodge, even though we aren’t here in the same way as before, i.e. not exactly, we are still here enough to exchange messages.
Myers says you take the part of the poet, and he will act as Faunus. Faunus.
Myers says you will play the part of the poet, and he will be Faunus. Faunus.
Miss R.—Faunus?
Miss R.—Faunus?
R. H.—Yes. Myers. Protect. He will understand.
R. H.—Yes. Myers. Protect. He'll get it.
(Evidently referring to Lodge.—A. L. P.)
(Clearly referring to Lodge.—A. L. P.)
What have you to say, Lodge? Good work. Ask Verrall, she will also understand. Arthur says so. [This means Dr. Arthur W. Verrall (deceased).—O. J. L.]
What do you have to say, Lodge? Great job. Ask Verrall, she’ll get it too. Arthur says so. [This means Dr. Arthur W. Verrall (deceased).—O. J. L.]
Miss R.—Do you mean Arthur Tennyson?
Ms. R.—Are you talking about Arthur Tennyson?
[This absurd confusion, stimulated by the word 'poet,' was evidently the result of a long strain at reading barely legible trance-writing for more than an hour, and was recognised immediately afterwards with dismayed amusement by the sitter. It is only of interest as showing how completely unknown to anyone present was the reference intended by the communicator.—O. J. L.]
[This ridiculous mix-up, triggered by the word 'poet,' clearly came from a long struggle of reading barely legible trance writing for over an hour, and it was immediately acknowledged with a mix of dismay and amusement by the sitter. It’s only significant as it shows how completely clueless everyone present was about the reference meant by the communicator.—O. J. L.]
R. H.—No. Myers knows. So does ——. You got mixed (to Miss R.), but Myers is straight about Poet and Faunus.
R. H.—No. Myers knows. So does ——. You mixed things up (with Miss R.), but Myers is clear about Poet and Faunus.
I venture to say that to non-classical people the above
message conveys nothing. It did not convey anything to
me, beyond the assurance, based on past experience, that
it certainly meant something definite, that its meaning was
probably embedded in a classical quotation, and that a
scholar like Mrs. Verrall would be able to interpret it,
even if only the bare skeleton of the message were given
without any details as to source.
I would say that to people who aren't familiar with classical references, the message above means nothing. It didn’t mean anything to me either, other than the reassurance, based on past experience, that it definitely had a specific meaning, that its meaning was probably found in a classical quote, and that a scholar like Mrs. Verrall would be able to figure it out, even if it was just the basic outline of the message without any details about the source.
Letter from Ms. Verrall
In order to interpret this message, therefore, I wrote to Mrs. Verrall as instructed, asking her: "Does The Poet and Faunus mean anything to you? Did one 'protect' the other?" She replied at once (8 September 1915) referring me to Horace, Carm. II. xvii. 27-30, and saying:—
In order to understand this message, I reached out to Mrs. Verrall as instructed, asking her: "Does The Poet and Faunus mean anything to you? Did one 'protect' the other?" She replied immediately (8 September 1915), referring me to Horace, Carm. II. xvii. 27-30, and saying:—
"The reference is to Horace's account of his narrow escape from death, from a falling tree, which he ascribes to the intervention of Faunus. Cf. Hor. Odes, II. xiii.; II. xvii. 27; III. iv. 27; III. viii. 8, for references to the subject. The allusion to Faunus is in Ode II. xvii. 27-30:—
"This refers to Horace's story about his narrow escape from death caused by a falling tree, which he credits to Faunus intervening to assist him. See Hor. Odes, II. xiii.; II. xvii. 27; III. iv. 27; III. viii. 8 for mentions of this topic. The reference to Faunus can be found in Ode II. xvii. 27-30:—
'Me truncus illapsus cerebro
'The trunk, falling, would have crushed my brain
Sustulerat, nisi Faunus ictum
Had not Faunus lifted the blow
Dextra levasset, Mercurialium
As the protector of
Custos virorum.'
Mercury's men.'
"'Faunus, the guardian of poets' ('poets' being the usual interpretation of 'Mercury's men').
"'Faunus, the guardian of poets' ('poets' being the common interpretation of 'Mercury's men').
"The passage is a very well-known one to all readers of Horace, and is perhaps specially familiar from its containing, in the sentence quoted, an unusual grammatical construction. It is likely to occur in a detailed work on Latin Grammar.
"This passage is well-known to anyone who reads Horace, and it's likely particularly familiar because it features, in the quoted sentence, an unusual grammatical structure. It would likely show up in a detailed Latin grammar study."
"The passage has no special associations for me other than as I have described, though it has some interest as forming part of a chronological sequence among the Odes, not generally admitted by commentators, but accepted by me.
"The passage doesn't have any special significance for me beyond what I've already mentioned, but it does have some interest as part of a chronological sequence in the Odes, which is not widely acknowledged by scholars, although I accept it."
"The words quoted are, of course, strictly applicable to the Horatian passage, which they instantly recalled to me.
"The quoted words definitely relate to the Horace passage that immediately came to my mind."
(Signed) M. de G. Verrall"
(Signed) M. de G. Verrall"
I perceived therefore, from this manifestly correct interpretation of the 'Myers' message to me, that the meaning was that some blow was going to fall, or was likely to fall, though I didn't know of what kind, and that Myers would intervene, apparently to protect me from it. So far as I can recollect my comparatively trivial thoughts on the subject, I believe that I had some vague idea that the catastrophe intended was perhaps of a financial rather than of a personal kind.
I understood, based on this clearly accurate interpretation of the 'Myers' message to me, that it meant some trouble was going to happen or was likely to happen, although I wasn't sure what kind, and that Myers would step in, seemingly to protect me from it. As far as I can remember my relatively trivial thoughts on the matter, I think I had some vague sense that the disaster meant was probably financial rather than personal.
The above message reached me near the beginning of
September in Scotland. Raymond was killed near Ypres
on 14 September 1915, and we got the news by telegram
from the War Office on 17 September. A fallen or falling
tree is a frequently used symbol for death; perhaps through
misinterpretation of Eccl. xi, 3. To several other classical
scholars I have since put the question I addressed to Mrs.
Verrall, and they all referred me to Horace, Carm. II. xvii.
as the unmistakable reference.
The message above reached me at the beginning of September in Scotland. Raymond was killed near Ypres on September 14, 1915, and we received the news by telegram from the War Office on September 17. A fallen or falling tree is a common symbol for death; perhaps due to a misinterpretation of Eccl. xi, 3. I have since asked several other classical scholars the same question I posed to Mrs. Verrall, and they all pointed me to Horace, Carm. II. xvii. as the clear reference.
Mr. Bayfield's Criticism
Soon after the event, I informed the Rev. M. A. Bayfield, ex-headmaster of Eastbourne College, fully of the facts, as an interesting S.P.R. incident (saying at the same time that Myers had not been able to 'ward off' the blow); and he was good enough to send me a careful note in reply:—
Soon after the event, I fully updated Rev. M. A. Bayfield, former headmaster of Eastbourne College, about the facts, as it was an interesting S.P.R. incident (also mentioning that Myers hadn’t been able to 'ward off' the blow); and he kindly sent me a detailed note in response:—
"Horace does not, in any reference to his escape, say [ 93] clearly whether the tree struck him, but I have always thought it did. He says Faunus lightened the blow; he does not say 'turned it aside.' As bearing on your terrible loss, the meaning seems to be that the blow would fall but would not crush; it would be 'lightened' by the assurance, conveyed afresh to you by a special message from the still living Myers, that your boy still lives.
"Horace doesn’t clearly say in his mention of his escape [ 93] whether the tree hit him, but I’ve always believed it did. He says Faunus softened the impact; he doesn’t say 'deflected it.' Regarding your heavy loss, it seems to mean that the impact would happen but wouldn’t be overwhelming; it would be 'softened' by the reassurance, given to you again through a special message from the still-living Myers, that your boy is still alive."
"I shall be interested to know what you think of this interpretation. The 'protect' I take to mean protect from being overwhelmed by the blow, from losing faith and hope, as we are all in danger of doing when smitten by some crushing personal calamity. Many a man when so smitten has, like Merlin, lain
"I'll be curious to hear your thoughts on this interpretation. The word 'protect' means to shield us from being overwhelmed by the impact, from losing faith and hope, as we all risk doing when faced with a devastating personal tragedy. Many a man, when struck down, has, like Merlin, laid"
'as dead,
'as dead,'
And lost to life and use and name and fame.'
And lost to life, purpose, identity, and recognition.
That seems to me to give a sufficiently precise application to the word (on which Myers apparently insists) and to the whole reference to Horace."
That seems to me to provide a clear application of the word (which Myers apparently insists on) and to the entire reference to Horace.
In a postscript he adds the following:—
In a postscript, he adds the following:—
"In Carm. iii. 8, Horace describes himself as prope funeratus arboris ictu, 'wellnigh killed by a blow from a tree.' An artist in expression, such as he was, would not have mentioned any 'blow' if there had been none; he would have said 'well nigh killed by a falling tree'—or the like. It is to be noted that in both passages he uses the word ictus. And in ii. 13. 11 (the whole ode is addressed to the tree) he says the man must have been a fellow steeped in every wickedness 'who planted thee an accursed lump of wood, a thing meant to fall (this is the delicate meaning of caducum—not merely "falling") on thine undeserving master's head.' Here again the language implies that he was struck, and struck on the head.
"In Carm. iii. 8, Horace describes himself as prope funeratus arboris ictu, meaning 'almost killed by a blow from a tree.' An expressive artist like him wouldn’t have mentioned a 'blow' unless it really happened; he would have said 'almost killed by a falling tree'—or something similar. It’s important to point out that in both passages he uses the word ictus. In ii. 13. 11 (the whole ode is addressed to the tree), he states that only a completely wicked person 'who planted you an accursed lump of wood, a thing meant to fall (this is the nuanced meaning of caducum—not just "falling") on your undeserving master’s head' could have done such a thing. Once again, the language implies that he was struck, and struck on the head."
"Indeed, the escape must have been a narrow one, and it is to me impossible to believe that Horace would have been so deeply impressed by the accident if he had not actually been struck. He refers to it four times:—
"Honestly, the escape must have been very close, and I can't believe that Horace would have been so affected by the incident if he hadn't actually been hit. He mentions it four times:—
Carm.ii. 13.—(Ode addressed to the tree—forty lines long.)
Carm.ii. 13.—(A poem directed at the tree—forty lines long.)
ii. 17. 27.
ii. 17. 27.
iii. 4. 27.—(Here he puts the risk he ran on a parallel with that of the rout at Philippi, from which he escaped.)
iii. 4. 27.—(Here he compares the risk he took to that of the defeat at Philippi, from which he managed to escape.)
iii. 8. 8.
iii. 8. 8.
"I insist on all this as strengthening my interpretation, and also as strengthening the assignment of the script to Myers, who would of course be fully alive to all the points to be found in his reference to Faunus and Horace—and, as I have no doubt, believed that Horace did not escape the actual blow, and that it was a severe one."
"I highlight all of this to support my interpretation and also to reinforce the idea that the script was assigned to Myers, who would undoubtedly be aware of all the details in his reference to Faunus and Horace—and I am certain that he believed Horace did not avoid the actual blow, and that it was quite a serious one."
NOTE BY O. J. L.
Since some of the translators, especially verse translators, of Horace convey the idea of turning aside or warding off the blow, it may be well to emphasise the fact that most of the scholars consulted gave "lightened" or "weakened" as the translation. And Professor Strong says—"no doubt at all that 'levasset' means 'weakened' the blow; the bough fell and struck the Poet, but lightly, through the action of Faunus. 'Levo' in this sense is quite common and classical."
Since some translators, especially those translating verse, interpret Horace as suggesting the idea of dodging or mitigating the impact, it’s important to highlight that most scholars consulted translated it as "lightened" or "weakened." Professor Strong states, "there's no doubt that 'levasset' means 'weakened' the blow; the branch fell and hit the Poet, but gently, due to Faunus's action. 'Levo' in this context is quite common and classical."
Bryce's prose translation (Bohn) is quite clear— "a tree-stem falling on my head had surely been my death, had not good Faunus eased the blow...."
Bryce's prose translation (Bohn) is pretty clear— "a tree trunk falling on my head would have certainly killed me, if it weren't for good Faunus softening the impact...."
And although Conington's translation has "check'd the blow in mid descent," he really means the same thing, because it is the slaying, not the wounding or striking of the Poet that is prevented:—
And even though Conington's translation says "check'd the blow in mid descent," he truly means the same thing, because it's the killing, not the injuring or hitting of the Poet that is stopped:—
"Me the curst trunk, that smote my skull,
"Me, the cursed trunk that hit my skull,
Had slain; but Faunus, strong to shield
Had slain; but Faunus, strong to protect
The friends of Mercury, check'd the blow
The friends of Mercury stopped the blow.
In mid descent."
In mid descent.
Additional Piper Script
Mr. Bayfield also calls my attention to another portion of Piper Script—in this case not a trance or semi-trance sitting, but ordinary automatic writing—dated 5 August, which reached me simultaneously with the one already quoted from, at the beginning of September, and which he says seems intended to prepare me for some personal trouble:—
Mr. Bayfield also brings to my attention another part of Piper Script—in this case, not a trance or semi-trance session, but regular automatic writing—dated August 5, which arrived at the same time as the previously quoted one, at the beginning of September, and which he says appears to be meant to prepare me for some personal issues:—
"Yes. For the moment, Lodge, have faith and wisdom [? confidence] in all that is highest and best. Have you all not been profoundly guided and cared for? Can you answer, 'No'? It is by your faith that all is well and has been."
"Yes. For now, Lodge, trust and believe in everything that is good and right. Haven't you all been well-guided and taken care of? Can you say 'No'? It's your faith that makes everything good and has made it so."
I remember being a little struck by the wording in the above script, urging me to admit that we—presumably the family—had "been profoundly guided and cared for," and "that all is well and has been"; because it seemed to indicate that something was not going to be quite so well. But it was too indefinite to lead me to make any careful record of it, or to send it as a prediction to anybody for filing; and it would no doubt have evaporated from my mind except for the 'Faunus' warning, given three days later, though received at the same time, which seemed to me clearly intended as a prediction, whether it happened to come off or not.
I remember feeling a bit unsettled by the wording in the script above, which urged me to admit that we—presumably the family—had "been profoundly guided and cared for," and that "all is well and has been." It seemed to suggest that something might not be quite right. But it was too vague for me to write down carefully or to send as a prediction for anyone to keep; it probably would have faded from my memory if it weren't for the 'Faunus' warning given three days later, which I received at the same time. That warning clearly seemed intended as a prediction, regardless of whether it turned out to be true or not.
The two Piper communications, of which parts have now been quoted, reached me at Gullane, East Lothian, where my wife (M. F. A. L.) and I were staying for a few weeks. They arrived early in September 1915, and as soon as I had heard from Mrs. Verrall I wrote to Miss Piper to acknowledge them, as follows:—
The two messages from Piper that I've quoted parts of reached me at Gullane, East Lothian, where my wife (M. F. A. L.) and I were staying for a few weeks. They came in early September 1915, and as soon as I heard from Mrs. Verrall, I wrote to Miss Piper to acknowledge them, as follows:—
"The Linga Private Hotel,
Gullane, East Lothian,
12 September 1915
"The Linga Private Hotel,
Gullane, East Lothian,
12 September 1915"My dear Alta,—The reference to the Poet and Faunus in your mother's last script is quite intelligible, and a good classical allusion. You might tell the 'communicator' some time if there is opportunity.
"Dear Alta,—Your mother’s last message referring to the Poet and Faunus is spot on and a nice reference to classical literature. You could mention that to the 'communicator' if the opportunity arises."
"I feel sure that it must convey nothing to you and yours. That is quite as it should be, as you know, for evidential reasons."
"I’m sure it doesn’t hold any meaning for you and your family. That’s exactly how it should be, as you know, for proof."
This was written two days before Raymond's death, and five days before we heard of it. The Pipers' ignorance of any meaning in the Poet and Faunus allusion was subsequently confirmed.
This was written two days before Raymond's death, and five days before we found out about it. The Pipers' lack of understanding regarding the Poet and Faunus reference was later confirmed.
It so happens that this letter was returned to me, for some unknown reason, through the Dead Letter Office, reaching me on 14 November 1915, and being then sent forward by me again.[7]
It turns out that this letter was sent back to me, for some unknown reason, through the Dead Letter Office, arriving on November 14, 1915, and I then sent it forward again.[7]
Footnotes
Footnotes
[7] Further Piper and other communications, obscurely relevant to this subject, will be found in a Paper which will appear in the S.P.R. Proceedings for the autumn of 1916.
CHAPTER 3
SEQUEL TO THE 'FAUNUS' MESSAGE
IT now remains to indicate how far Myers carried out his implied promise, and what steps he took, or has been represented as having taken, to lighten the blow—which it is permissible to say was a terribly severe one.
IT now remains to indicate how far Myers followed through on his implied promise, and what steps he took, or has been said to have taken, to ease the impact—which can be fairly described as incredibly harsh.
For such evidence I must quote from the record of sittings held here in England with mediums previously unknown, and by sitters who gave no sort of clue as to identity. (See the historical record, beginning at Chapter V.)
For that evidence, I need to refer to the records of sessions held here in England with mediums that were unknown beforehand, and by participants who gave no hints about their identities. (See the historical record, beginning at Chapter V.)
It may be objected that my own general appearance is known or might be guessed. But that does not apply to members of my family, who went quite anonymously to private sittings kindly arranged for by a friend in London (Mrs. Kennedy, wife of Dr. Kennedy), who was no relation whatever, but whose own personal experience caused her to be sympathetic and helpful, and who is both keen and critical about evidential considerations.
It might be argued that people could guess what I look like. However, that doesn’t apply to my family members, who attended private sessions in London, organized by a friend of mine (Mrs. Kennedy, Dr. Kennedy’s wife). She wasn’t related to us at all, but her own experiences made her understanding and supportive. She is also very insightful and critical when it comes to evidence.
I may state, for what it is worth, that as a matter of fact normal clues to identity are disliked, and, in so far as they are gratuitous, are even resented, by a good medium; for they are no manner of use, and yet subsequently they appear to spoil evidence. It is practically impossible for mediums to hunt up and become normally acquainted with the family history of their numerous sitters, and those who know them are well aware that they do nothing of the sort, but in making arrangements for a sitting it is not easy, unless special precautions are taken, to avoid giving a name and an address, and thereby appearing to give facilities for fraud.
I can say, if it matters, that normal identity clues are generally disliked and often even resented by a good medium. They are useless and tend to undermine the evidence later on. It's almost impossible for mediums to research and become familiar with the family histories of their many sitters. Those who know them are well aware that they don’t do that. However, when setting up a session, it’s not easy to avoid sharing a name and address without taking special precautions, which can make it seem like there’s an opportunity for fraud.
In our case, and in that of our immediate friends, these [ 97] precautions have been taken—sometimes in a rather elaborate manner.
In our situation, and in that of our close friends, these [ 97] measures have been implemented—sometimes in a quite detailed way.
The first sitting that was held after Raymond's death by any member of the family was held not explicitly for the purpose of getting into communication with him—still less with any remotest notion of entering into communication with Mr. Myers—but mainly because a French widow lady, who had been kind to our daughters during winters in Paris, was staying with my wife at Edgbaston—her first real visit to England—and was in great distress at the loss of both her beloved sons in the war, within a week of each other, so that she was left desolate. To comfort her my wife took her up to London to call on Mrs. Kennedy, and to get a sitting arranged for with a medium whom that lady knew and recommended. Two anonymous interviews were duly held, and incidentally I may say that the two sons of Madame communicated, on both occasions, though with difficulty; that one of them gave his name completely, the other approximately; and that the mother, who was new to the whole subject, was partially consoled.[8] Raymond, however, was represented as coming with them and helping them, and as sending some messages on his own account. I shall here only quote those messages which bear upon the subject of Myers and have any possible connexion with the 'Faunus' message.
The first gathering that took place after Raymond's death, organized by any family member, wasn't specifically meant to communicate with him—much less with Mr. Myers—but rather because a French widow, who had been kind to our daughters during their winters in Paris, was visiting my wife in Edgbaston. This was her first real trip to England, and she was deeply distressed by the loss of both her beloved sons in the war, just a week apart, leaving her heartbroken. To comfort her, my wife took her to London to visit Mrs. Kennedy and to arrange a session with a medium that Mrs. Kennedy knew and recommended. Two anonymous sessions were held, and I should mention that Madame's two sons communicated during both, though it was challenging; one gave his full name while the other provided a partial name, and the mother, who was unfamiliar with the whole idea, found some comfort. Raymond, however, was said to be present with them, assisting and sending some messages on his own. Here, I'll only quote the messages that relate to Myers and possibly connect to the 'Faunus' message.
(For an elementary explanation about 'sittings' in general,
see Chapter I. )
(For a basic explanation of 'sittings' in general, see Chapter I. )
Extracts About 'Myers' from Early
Anonymous Sessions
We heard first of Raymond's death on 17 September 1915, and on 25 September his mother (M. F. A. L.), who was having an anonymous sitting for a friend with Mrs. Leonard, then a complete stranger, had the following spelt out by tilts of a table, as purporting to come from Raymond:—
We first learned about Raymond's death on September 17, 1915, and on September 25, his mother (M. F. A. L.), who was having an anonymous sitting for a friend with Mrs. Leonard, then a complete stranger, received the following message spelled out through table tilts, supposedly from Raymond:—
Tell father I have met some friends of his.
Tell Dad I've met some of his friends.
M. F. A. L.—Can you give any name?
M.F.A.L.—Can you provide a name?
Yes. Myers.
Yes. Myers.
(That was all on that subject on that occasion.)
(That was everything on that topic at that time.)
On the 27th of September 1915, I myself went to London and had my first sitting, between noon and one o'clock, with Mrs. Leonard. I went to her house or flat alone, as a complete stranger, for whom an appointment had been made through Mrs. Kennedy. Before we began, Mrs. Leonard informed me that her 'guide' or 'control' was a young girl named "Feda."
On September 27, 1915, I went to London and had my first session with Mrs. Leonard between noon and one o'clock. I visited her home alone, as a total stranger, with an appointment arranged through Mrs. Kennedy. Before we started, Mrs. Leonard told me that her 'guide' or 'control' was a young girl named "Feda."
In a short time after the medium had gone into trance, a youth was described in terms which distinctly suggested Raymond, and "Feda" brought messages. I extract the following:—
In a short time after the medium had gone into a trance, a young man was described in a way that clearly suggested Raymond, and "Feda" delivered messages. Here are the key points:—
From First Anonymous Sitting of O. J. L. with
Mrs. Leonard, 27 September 1915
(Mrs. Leonard's control, Feda, supposed to be speaking throughout.)
(Mrs. Leonard's control, Feda, is supposed to be speaking throughout.)
He finds it difficult, he says, but he has got so many kind friends helping him. He didn't think when he waked up first that he was going to be happy, but now he is, and he says he is going to be happier. He knows that as soon as he is a little more ready he has got a great deal of work to do. "I almost wonder," he says, "shall I be fit and able to do it. They tell me I shall."
He says he's finding it tough, but he has so many kind friends supporting him. When he first woke up, he didn't think he would be happy, but now he is, and he says he's going to be even happier. He knows that as soon as he's a little more ready, he has a lot of work to do. "I almost wonder," he says, "if I'll be fit and able to do it. They tell me I will."
"I have instructors and teachers with me." Now he is trying to build up a letter of some one; M. he shows me.
"I have instructors and teachers with me." Now he is trying to draft a letter from someone; M. he shows me.
(A short time later, he said:—)
(A little while later, he said:)
"People think I say I am happy in order to make them happier, but I don't.[9] I have met hundreds of friends. I don't know them all. I have met many who tell me that, a little later, they will explain why they are helping me. I feel I have got two fathers now. I don't feel I have lost one and got another; I have got both. [ 99] I have got my old one, and another too—a pro tem. father."
"People think that I claim I'm happy just to make them feel better, but that's not true.[9] I've made hundreds of friends. I don't know all of them. I've met many who tell me that they'll explain later why they're helping me. I feel like I have two fathers now. I don't feel like I've lost one and gained another; I have both. [ 99] I've still got my original father, and I have another too—a pro tem. father."
(Here Feda ejaculated "What's that? Is that right?" O. J. L. replied 'Yes.')
Feda exclaimed, "What’s that? Is it true?" O. J. L. replied, "Yes."
There is a weight gone off his mind the last day or two; he feels brighter and lighter and happier altogether, the last few days. There was confusion at first. He could not get his bearings, didn't seem to know where he was. "But I was not very long," he says, "and I think I was very fortunate; it was not very long before it was explained to me where I was."
There’s been a weight lifted off his mind over the past couple of days; he feels brighter, lighter, and overall happier lately. At first, there was confusion. He couldn't find his bearings and didn’t really know where he was. "But it wasn't for long," he says, "and I think I was pretty lucky; it didn’t take long for someone to explain to me where I was."
But the most remarkable indirect allusion, or apparent allusion, to something like the 'Faunus' message, came at the end of the sitting, after "Raymond" had gone, and just before Mrs. Leonard came out of trance:—
But the most striking indirect reference, or seemingly indirect reference, to something like the 'Faunus' message, came at the end of the session, after "Raymond" had left, and just before Mrs. Leonard came out of her trance:—
"He is gone, but Feda sees something which is only symbolic; she sees a cross falling back on to you; very dark, falling on to you; dark and heavy looking; and as it falls it gets twisted round and the other side seems all light, and the light is shining all over you. It is a sort of pale blue, but it is white and quite light when it touches you. Yes, that is what Feda sees. The cross looked dark, and then it suddenly twisted round and became a beautiful light. The cross is a means of shedding real light. It is going to help a great deal.
"He’s gone, but Feda sees something that’s purely symbolic; she sees a cross falling back onto you; very dark, falling onto you; dark and heavy-looking; and as it falls, it twists around and the other side seems all light, with light shining all over you. It’s kind of pale blue, but it’s white and quite light when it touches you. Yes, that’s what Feda sees. The cross looked dark, and then it suddenly twisted around and became a beautiful light. The cross is a way of shedding real light. It’s going to help a lot."
"Did you know you had a coloured Guide?... He says your son is the cross of light; he is the cross of light, and he is going to be a light that will help you; he is going to help too to prove to the world the Truth. That is why they built up the dark cross that turned to bright. You know; but others, they do so want to know. Feda is loosing hold; good-bye."
"Did you know you had a colored Guide?... He says your son is the cross of light; he is the cross of light, and he is going to be a light that will help you; he is also going to help prove the Truth to the world. That’s why they created the dark cross that turned bright. You know; but others really want to know. Feda is losing grip; goodbye."
[This ends the O. J. L. first Leonard sitting of
27 September 1915.]
[This concludes the O. J. L. first Leonard sitting of
September 27, 1915.]
On the afternoon of the same day, 27 September 1915, that I had this first sitting with Mrs. Leonard, Lady Lodge had her first sitting, as a complete stranger, with Mr. A. Vout Peters, who had been invited for the purpose—without any name being given—to Mrs. Kennedy's house at 3.30 p.m.
On the afternoon of the same day, September 27, 1915, when I had my first session with Mrs. Leonard, Lady Lodge had her first session, as a total stranger, with Mr. A. Vout Peters, who had been invited for this purpose—without any name being mentioned—to Mrs. Kennedy's house at 3:30 p.m.
Here again, Raymond was described well enough, fairly early in the sitting, and several identifying messages were given. Presently 'Moonstone' (Peters's chief control) asked, "Was he not associated with Chemistry?" As a matter of fact, my laboratory has been rather specially chemical of late; and the record continues, copied with subsequent annotations in square brackets as it stands:—
Here again, Raymond was adequately described fairly early in the session, and several identifying messages were given. Soon after, 'Moonstone' (Peters's main control) asked, "Was he not connected to Chemistry?" In fact, my laboratory has been particularly focused on chemistry lately; and the record continues, copied with subsequent notes in square brackets as it is:—
From First Anonymous Sitting of M. F. A. L. with Peters,
27 September 1915
Was he not associated with chemistry? If not, some one associated with him was, because I see all the things in a chemical laboratory.
Was he not connected to chemistry? If not, someone he knew was, because I see all the stuff in a chemistry lab.
That chemistry thing takes me away from him to a man in the flesh [O. J. L. presumably]; and, connected with him, a man, a writer of poetry, on our side, closely connected with spiritualism. He was very clever—he too passed away out of England.
That chemistry thing pulls me away from him to a guy in the flesh [O. J. L. presumably]; and, related to him, a guy, a poet, on our side, closely linked to spiritualism. He was really smart—he also moved away from England.
[This is clearly meant for Myers, who died in Rome.]
[This is clearly intended for Myers, who died in Rome.]
He has communicated several times. This gentleman who wrote poetry—I see the letter M—he is helping your son to communicate.
He has reached out several times. This guy who wrote poetry—I see the letter M—he is assisting your son in communicating.
[His presence and help were also independently mentioned by Mrs. Leonard.]
[Mrs. Leonard also mentioned his presence and assistance on her own.]
He is built up in the chemical conditions.
He is shaped by the chemical conditions.
If your son didn't know this man, he knew of him.
If your son didn't know this guy, he had heard of him.
[Yes, he could hardly have known him, as he was only about twelve at the time of Myers's death.]
Yeah, he could hardly have known him since he was only about twelve when Myers died.
At the back of the gentleman beginning with M, and who wrote poetry, is a whole group of people. [The S.P.R. group, doubtless.] They are very interested. And don't be surprised if you get messages from them, even if you don't know them.
At the back of the guy whose name starts with M, who wrote poetry, there's a whole group of people. [The S.P.R. group, no doubt.] They're really interested. And don't be surprised if you get messages from them, even if you don't know them.
(Then 'Moonstone' stopped, and said:—)
(Then 'Moonstone' stopped and said:)
This is so important that is going to be said now, that I want to go slowly, for you to write clearly every word (dictating carefully):—
This is so important that what I'm about to say now, I want to take it slow, so you can write down every word clearly (dictating carefully):—
"Not only is the partition so thin that you can hear the operators on the other side, but a big hole has been made."
"The wall is so thin that you can hear the people on the other side, and there’s also a big hole in it."
This message is for the gentleman associated with the chemical laboratory.
This message is for the guy from the chemical lab.
[Considering that my wife was quite unknown to the medium, this is a remarkably evidential and identifying message. Cf. passage in my book, Survival of Man, containing this tunnel-boring simile; page 341 of American edition (Moffat Yard & Co.).—O. J. L.]
Since my wife wasn't well-known to the medium, this is a very strong and defining message. Check out the section in my book, Survival of Man, that includes this tunnel-boring analogy; page 341 of the American edition (Moffat Yard & Co.).—O. J. L.
'Moonstone' continued:—
'Moonstone' continued:—
The boy—I call them all boys because I was over a hundred when I lived here and they are all boys to me—he says, he is here, but he says:—
The boy—I refer to them all as boys because I was over a hundred when I lived here and they all seem like boys to me—he says he's here, but he says:—
"Hitherto it has been a thing of the head, now I am come over it is a thing of the heart."
"Hitherto it has been a thing of the head, now that I’ve come here, it’s a thing of the heart."
What is more (here Peters jumped up in his chair, vigorously, snapped his fingers excitedly, and spoke loudly)—
What’s more (here Peters jumped up in his chair, excitedly snapped his fingers, and spoke loudly)—
"Good God! how father will be able to speak out! much firmer than he has ever done, because it will touch our hearts."
"Good God! How my father will be able to express himself! Much more firmly than ever before, because it will touch our hearts."
(Here ends extract from Peters sitting of 27
September 1915. A completer record will be
found in Chapter VII.)
(Here ends the excerpt from Peter's meeting on September 27, 1915. A complete record will be found in Chapter VII.)
At a Leonard Table Sitting on 12 October 1915—by which time our identity was known to Mrs. Leonard—I told 'Myers' that I understood his Piper message about Faunus and the Poet; and the only point of interest about the reply or comment is that the two following sentences were spelt out, purporting to come either indirectly or directly from 'Myers':—
At a Leonard Table Sitting on October 12, 1915—by this time, Mrs. Leonard knew our identity—I told 'Myers' that I understood his Piper message about Faunus and the Poet; and the only interesting thing about the reply or comment is that the two following sentences were spelled out, supposedly coming either indirectly or directly from 'Myers':—
1. He says it meant your son's tr[ansition].
1. He says it signified your son's transition.
2. Your son shall be mine.
2. Your son will be mine.
The next 'Myers' reference came on 29 October, when I had a sitting with Peters, unexpectedly and unknown to my family, at his London room (15 Devereux Court, Fleet Street)—a sitting arranged for by Mr. J. A. Hill for an anonymous friend:—
The next 'Myers' reference came on October 29, when I had a session with Peters, unexpectedly and without my family's knowledge, at his London office (15 Devereux Court, Fleet Street)—a session arranged by Mr. J. A. Hill for an anonymous friend:—
Peters went into trance, and after some other communications, gave messages from a youth who was recognised by the control and identified as my son; and later on [ 102] Peters's 'control,' whom it is customary to call 'Moonstone,' spoke thus:—
Peters fell into a trance, and after some other exchanges, he brought through messages from a young man who was recognized by the control and identified as my son; later on, [ 102] Peters's 'control,' typically referred to as 'Moonstone,' said the following:—
From Sitting of O. J. L. with Peters on 29 October 1915
Your common-sense method of approaching the subject in the family has been the means of helping him to come back as he has been able to do; and had he not known what you had told him, then it would have been far more difficult for him to come back. He is very deliberate in what he says. He is a young man that knows what he is saying. Do you know F W M?
Your straightforward way of dealing with things in the family has really helped him return as he has. If he hadn’t known what you shared with him, it would have been much harder for him to come back. He thinks carefully about what he says. He’s a young man who knows his mind. Do you know F W M?
O. J. L.—Yes, I do.
O. J. L.—Yep, I do.
Because I see those three letters. Now, after them, do you know S T; yes, I get S T, then a dot, and then P? These are shown me; I see them in light; your boy shows these things to me.
Because I see those three letters. Now, after them, do you know S T; yes, I get S T, then a dot, and then P? These are shown to me; I see them in light; your boy shows these things to me.
O. J. L.—Yes, I understand. [Meaning that I recognised the allusion to F. W. H. Myers's poem St. Paul.]
O. J. L.—Yeah, I understand. [This means I recognized the reference to F. W. H. Myers's poem St. Paul.]
Well, he says to me: "He has helped me so much, more than you think. That is F W M."
Well, he says to me, "He has helped me a lot, more than you realize. That’s F W M."
O. J. L.—Bless him!
O. J. L.—God bless him!
No, your boy laughs, he has got an ulterior motive for it; don't think it was only for charity's sake, he has got an ulterior motive, and thinks that you will be able by the strength of your personality to do what you want to do now, to ride over the quibbles of the fools, and to make the Society, the Society, he says, of some use to the world.... Can you understand?
No, your guy laughs; he has a hidden agenda for it. Don’t think it was just for the sake of charity. He has a hidden motive and believes that with your strong personality, you can do what you want to do now, push through the nonsense of the fools, and make the Society—the Society, he says—actually useful to the world... Can you get that?
O. J. L.—Yes.
O. J. L.—Yes.
Now he says, "He helped me because, with me through you, he can break away the dam that people have set up. Later on, you are going to speak to them. It is already on the programme, and you will break down the opposition because of me." Then he says, "For God's sake, father, do it. Because if you only knew, and could only see what I see: hundreds of men and women heart-broken. And if you could only see the boys on our side shut out, you would throw the whole strength of yourself [ 103] into this work. But you can do it." He is very earnest. Oh, and he wants—No, I must stop him, I must prevent him, I don't want him to control the medium.—Don't think me unkind, but I must protect my medium; he would not be able to do the work he has to do; the medium would be ill from it, I must protect him, the emotion would be too great, too great for both of you, so I must prevent him from controlling.
Now he says, "He helped me because, through you, he can break down the barriers that people have set up. Later on, you're going to talk to them. It's already on the agenda, and you'll overcome the opposition because of me." Then he says, "For God's sake, Dad, just do it. If you only knew what I see: hundreds of men and women heartbroken. And if you could just see the boys on our side being left out, you would put all your strength into this work. But you can do it." He is really serious. Oh, and he wants—No, I need to stop him, I have to prevent him, I don't want him to control the medium.—Don't think I'm unkind, but I must protect my medium; he wouldn't be able to do the work he needs to do; the medium would be affected by it, I must protect him, the emotion would be too intense, too intense for both of you, so I need to prevent him from taking control.
He understands, but he wants me to tell you this:—
He gets it, but he wants me to tell you this:—
The feeling on going over was one of intense disappointment, he had no idea of death. The second too was grief. (Pause.)
The feeling of going over was one of deep disappointment; he had no understanding of death. The second feeling was grief. (Pause.)
This is a time when men and women have had the crust broken off them—a crust of convention, of ... of indifference, has been smashed, and everybody thinks, though some selfishly.
This is a time when men and women have shed their outer layers—layers of societal norms and indifference have been broken down, and everyone believes, although some do so for selfish reasons.
Now, returning to him, how patient he is! He was not always so patient. After the grief there was a glimmering of hope, because he realised that he could get back to you; and because his grandmother came to him. Then his brother was introduced to him. Then, he says, other people. Myerse—"Myerse," it sounds like—do you know what he means?—came to him, and then he knew he could get back. He knew.
Now, turning to him, how patient he is! He wasn’t always this patient. After the sadness, a spark of hope emerged because he realized he could reconnect with you; and because his grandmother came to him. Then, he met his brother. After that, he says, he encountered other people. Myerse—“Myerse,” it sounds like—do you know what he means?—came to him, and then he knew he could get back. He knew.
Now he wants me to tell you this: That from his death, which is only one of thousands, that the work which he (I have to translate his ideas into words, I don't get them verbatum [sic])—the work which he volunteered to be able to succeed in,—no, that's not it. The work which he enlisted for, that is what he says, only he was only a unit and seemingly lost—yet the very fact of his death will be the means of pushing it on. Now I have got it. By his passing away, many hundreds will be benefited.
Now he wants me to tell you this: that from his death, which is just one of thousands, the work he dedicated himself to will carry on. I have to express his ideas in my own words; I can't reproduce them exactly as he said them. The work he committed to, that's what he means. He was just one person who seemed to have been lost, yet his death will actually propel it forward. Now I understand. Through his passing, many hundreds will benefit.
(End of extract from Peters sitting of
29 October 1915.)
(End of extract from Peters sitting of
29 October 1915.)
(A still fuller account of the whole 'Faunus' episode, and a further sequel to it of a classical kind, called the "Horace O. L." message, will be found in the S.P.R. Proceedings for the autumn of 1916.)
(A still fuller account of the whole 'Faunus' episode, and a further sequel to it of a classical kind, called the "Horace O. L." message, will be found in the S.P.R. Proceedings for the autumn of 1916.)
It will be understood, I hope, that the above extracts from sittings have been reproduced here in order to show that, if we take the incidents on their face value, Myers had redeemed his 'Faunus' promise, and had lightened the blow by looking after and helping my son 'on the other side.' I now propose to make some further extracts—of a more evidential character—tending to establish the survival of my son's own personality and memory. There have been several of these evidential episodes, making strongly in this direction; but I select, for description here, one relating to a certain group photograph, of which we were told through two mediums, but of which we normally knew nothing till afterwards.
It will be clear, I hope, that the excerpts from the sessions above have been included to demonstrate that, if we take the events at face value, Myers fulfilled his 'Faunus' promise and eased the pain by caring for and assisting my son 'on the other side.' I now intend to share some additional excerpts—of a more evidential nature—aimed at confirming the continuity of my son's own personality and memory. There have been several of these evidential occasions strongly supporting this idea; however, I will focus here on one related to a particular group photograph, which we learned about through two mediums, but of which we had no prior knowledge until afterward.
Footnotes
Footnotes
[8] I realise now, though the relevance has only just struck me, that from the point of view of an outside critic, pardonably suspicious of bad faith, this episode of the bereaved French lady—an obviously complete stranger to Mrs. Kennedy as well as to the medium—has an evidential and therefore helpful side.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I realize now, even though it just dawned on me, that from the viewpoint of an external critic—who might understandably be doubtful about good intentions—this scenario involving the mourning French woman, who is clearly a complete stranger to Mrs. Kennedy and the medium, has a notable and therefore valuable element.
[9] This is reminiscent of a sentence in one of his letters from the Front: "As cheerful and well and happy as ever. Don't think I am having a rotten time—I am not." Dated 11 May 1915 (really 12).
CHAPTER 4
The group photo
I NOW come to a peculiarly good piece of evidence arising out of the sittings which from time to time we held in the autumn of 1915, namely, the mention and description of a group photograph taken near the Front, of the existence of which we were in complete ignorance, but which was afterwards verified in a satisfactory and complete manner. It is necessary to report the circumstances rather fully:—
I NOW come to a particularly strong piece of evidence from the meetings we held during the autumn of 1915. This evidence concerns a group photograph taken near the Front, of which we had no knowledge at the time, but that was later verified thoroughly and satisfactorily. I need to explain the circumstances in detail:—
Raymond was killed on 14 September 1915.
Raymond was killed on September 14, 1915.
The first reference to a photograph taken of him with other men was made by Peters at M. F. A. L.'s first sitting with Peters, in Mrs. Kennedy's house, on 27 September 1915, thus:—
The first mention of a photograph of him taken with other men was made by Peters at M. F. A. L.'s first sitting with Peters, in Mrs. Kennedy's house, on September 27, 1915, like this:—
Extract from M. F. A. L.'s anonymous Sitting with Peters
on 27 September 1915
"You have several portraits of this boy. Before he went away you had got a good portrait of him—two—no, three. Two where he is alone and one where he is in a group of other men. He is particular that I should tell you of this. In one you see his walking-stick"—('Moonstone' here put an imaginary stick under his arm).
"You have several pictures of this boy. Before he left, you had a good picture of him—two—no, three. Two where he is by himself and one where he is with a group of other men. He specifically wants me to tell you about this. In one, you can see his walking stick."—('Moonstone' here pretended to hold an imaginary stick under his arm).
We had single photographs of him of course, and in uniform, but we did not know of the existence of a photograph in which he was one of a group; and M. F. A. L. was sceptical about it, thinking that it might well be only a shot or guess on the part of Peters at something probable. But Mrs. Kennedy (as Note-taker) had written down most of what was said, and this record was kept, [ 106] copied, and sent to Mr. Hill in the ordinary course at the time.
We had individual photos of him, of course, and in uniform, but we didn't know there was a picture where he was part of a group. M. F. A. L. was doubtful, thinking it might just be a shot in the dark or a guess by Peters about something likely. However, Mrs. Kennedy (as the note-taker) had written down most of what was discussed, and this record was kept, [ 106] copied, and sent to Mr. Hill as was customary at the time.
I was myself, moreover, rather impressed with the emphasis laid on it—"he is particular that I should tell you of this"—and accordingly made a half-hearted inquiry or two; but nothing more was heard on the subject for two months. On Monday, 29 November, however, a letter came from Mrs. Cheves, a stranger to us, mother of Captain Cheves of the R.A.M.C., who had known Raymond and had reported to us concerning the nature of his wound, and who is still doing good work at the Front.
I was quite taken aback by how much emphasis was placed on it—"he really wants me to tell you this"—so I made a few half-hearted inquiries; but we didn't hear anything more about it for two months. However, on Monday, November 29, a letter arrived from Mrs. Cheves, a stranger to us, the mother of Captain Cheves of the R.A.M.C., who had known Raymond and had informed us about the nature of his wound, and who is still doing great work at the Front.
Mrs. Cheves' welcome letter ran as follows:—
Mrs. Cheves' welcome letter read as follows:—
"28 November 1915
"November 28, 1915
"Dear Lady Lodge,—My son, who is M.O. to the 2nd South Lancs, has sent us a group of officers taken in August, and I wondered whether you knew of this photo and had had a copy. If not may I send you one, as we have half a dozen and also a key? I hope you will forgive my writing to ask this, but I have often thought of you and felt so much for you in yr. great sorrow.
"Dear Lady Lodge,—My son, who is the Medical Officer for the 2nd South Lancs, has sent us a group photo of the officers taken in August, and I was wondering if you knew about this picture and if you have a copy. If not, can I send you one? We have a few extras and also a key. I hope you don’t mind me reaching out to ask this, but I have often thought of you and felt deeply for you in your great sorrow."
—Sincerely yours, B. P. Cheves"
—Sincerely yours, B. P. Cheves"
M. F. A. L. promptly wrote, thanking her, and asking for it; but fortunately it did not come at once.
M. F. A. L. quickly wrote back, thanking her and asking for it; but luckily, it didn’t arrive right away.
Before it came, I (O. J. L.) was having a sitting with Mrs. Leonard alone at her house on 3 December; and on this occasion, among other questions, I asked carefully concerning the photograph, wishing to get more detailed information about it, before it was seen. It should be understood that the subject was not introduced by Mrs. Leonard or her control. The previous mention of a photograph had been through Peters. It was I that introduced the subject through Mrs. Leonard, and asked a question; and the answers were thus reported and recorded at the time—the typing out of the sitting being all done before the photograph arrived:—
Before it arrived, I (O. J. L.) was having a meeting alone with Mrs. Leonard at her house on December 3; and during this meeting, among other questions, I carefully asked about the photograph, wanting to get more detailed information about it before it was seen. It should be noted that the subject was not brought up by Mrs. Leonard or her control. The previous mention of a photograph had been through Peters. I brought up the subject through Mrs. Leonard and asked a question; and the answers were reported and recorded at that time—the typing of the meeting was all completed before the photograph arrived:—
Extract from the Record of O. J. L.'s Sitting with
Mrs. Leonard, 3 December 1915
(Mrs. Leonard's child-control, Feda, supposed to be speaking,
and often speaking of herself in the third person.)
(Mrs. Leonard's child-control, Feda, is supposed to be speaking,
and often speaks of herself in the third person.)
FEDA.—Now ask him some more.
FEDA. — Now ask him more.
O. J. L.—Well, he said something about having a photograph taken with some other men. We haven't seen that photograph yet. [ 107] Does he want to say anything more about it? He spoke about a photograph.
O. J. L.—He said something about taking a photo with some other guys. We still haven't seen that photo. [ 107] Does he have anything else to say about it? He mentioned a picture.
Yes, but he thinks it wasn't here. He looks at Feda, and he says, it wasn't to you, Feda.
Yes, but he thinks it wasn't here. He looks at Feda and says, "It wasn't you, Feda."
O. J. L.—No, he's quite right. It wasn't. Can he say where he spoke of it?
O. J. L.—No, he's absolutely right. It wasn’t. Can he say where he discussed it?
He says it wasn't through the table.
He says it wasn't via the table.
O. J. L.—No, it wasn't.
O. J. L.—No, it wasn't.
It wasn't here at all. He didn't know the person that he said it through. The conditions were strange there—a strange house. [Quite true, it was said through Peters in Mrs. Kennedy's house during an anonymous sitting on 27 September.]
It wasn't here at all. He didn't know the person he communicated through. The situation there was odd—a peculiar house. [That's true; it was communicated through Peters at Mrs. Kennedy's house during an anonymous session on September 27.]
O. J. L.—Do you recollect the photograph at all?
O. J. L.—Do you recall the photograph?
He thinks there were several others taken with him, not one or two, but several.
He believes that there were quite a few others taken with him, not just one or two, but several.
O. J. L.—Were they friends of yours?
O. J. L.—Were they your friends?
Some of them, he says. He didn't know them all, not very well. But he knew some; he heard of some; they were not all friends.
Some of them, he says. He didn't know all of them very well. But he knew some; he had heard of some; they weren't all friends.
O. J. L.—Does he remember how he looked in the photograph?
O. J. L.—Does he remember how he looked in the photo?
No, he doesn't remember how he looked.
No, he doesn't remember what he looked like.
O. J. L.—No, no, I mean was he standing up?
O. J. L.—No, no, I mean, was he standing up?
No, he doesn't seem to think so. Some were raised up round; he was sitting down, and some were raised up at the back of him.Some were standing, and some were sitting, he thinks.
No, he doesn't seem to think that way. Some were raised up around him; he was sitting down, and some were raised up behind him. Some were standing, and some were sitting, he thinks.
O. J. L.—Were they soldiers?
O. J. L.—Were they troops?
He says yes—a mixed lot. Somebody called C was on it with him; and somebody called R—not his own name, but another R.K, K, K—he says something about K.
He says yes—a mixed group. Someone named C was on it with him; and someone named R—not his real name, but another R.K, K, K—he mentions something about K.
He also mentions a man beginning with B—(indistinct muttering something like Berry, Burney—then clearly) but put down B.
He also mentions a guy whose name starts with B—(muttering something like Berry, Burney—then clearly) but write down B.
O. J. L.—I am asking about the photograph because we haven't seen it yet. Somebody is going to send it to us. We have heard that it exists, and that's all.
O. J. L.—I'm inquiring about the photo because we still haven't received it. Someone is supposed to send it to us. We've heard it's available, and that's all we know.
[While this is being written out, the above remains true. The photograph has not yet come.]
[As this is being written, the above is still true. The photograph hasn't arrived yet.]
He has the impression of about a dozen on it. A dozen, he says, if not more. Feda thinks it must be a big photograph.
He thinks there are about a dozen on it. A dozen, he says, if not more. Feda thinks it has to be a big photograph.
No, he doesn't think so, he says they were grouped close together.
No, he doesn’t think so. He says they were huddled together.
O. J. L.—Did he have a stick?
O. J. L.—Did he have a stick?
He doesn't remember that. He remembers that somebody wanted to lean on him, but he is not sure if he was taken with some one leaning on him. But somebody wanted to lean on him he remembers. The last what he gave you, what were a B, will be rather prominent in that photograph. It wasn't taken in a photographer's place.
He doesn't remember that. He remembers that someone wanted to lean on him, but he's not sure if he liked it when someone leaned on him. But he does remember that someone wanted to lean on him. The last thing he gave you, which was a B, will stand out in that photograph. It wasn't taken at a photographer's studio.
O. J. L.—Was it out of doors?
O. J. L.—Was it outside?
Yes, practically.
Definitely.
FEDA (sotto voce).—What you mean, 'yes practically'; must have been out of doors or not out of doors. You mean 'yes,' don't you?
FEDA (softly).—What do you mean by 'yes practically'? You must have been either outside or inside. You mean 'yes,' right?
Feda thinks he means 'yes,' because he says 'practically.'
Feda thinks he means 'yes' because he says 'pretty much.'
O. J. L.—It may have been a shelter.
O. J. L.—It could have been a safe haven.
It might have been. Try to show Feda.
It could have been. Try to show Feda.
At the back he shows me lines going down. It looks like a black background, with lines at the back of them. (Feda here kept drawing vertical lines in the air.)
At the back, he points out lines going down. It looks like a black background with lines behind them. (Feda kept drawing vertical lines in the air here.)
There was, for some reason, considerable delay in the arrival of the photograph; it did not arrive till the afternoon of December 7. Meanwhile, on December 6, Lady Lodge had been looking up Raymond's Diary, which had been returned from the Front with his kit, and found an entry:—
There was, for some reason, a significant delay in the arrival of the photograph; it didn't arrive until the afternoon of December 7. In the meantime, on December 6, Lady Lodge had been reviewing Raymond's Diary, which had been sent back from the Front with his kit, and found an entry:—
"24 August.—Photo taken."
"August 24.—Photo taken."
(A statement will follow to this effect.)
Sure, please provide the text you would like me to modernize.
Now Raymond had only had one "leave" home since going to the Front, and this leave was from 16 July to 20 July. The photograph had not been taken then, and so he could not have told us anything about it. The exposure was only made twenty-one days before his death, and some days may have elapsed before he saw a print, if [ 109] he ever saw one. He certainly never mentioned it in his letters. We were therefore in complete ignorance concerning it; and only recently had we normally become aware of its existence.
Now Raymond had only had one "leave" home since going to the Front, and that was from July 16 to July 20. The photograph hadn't been taken then, so he couldn't have told us anything about it. The exposure was made just twenty-one days before his death, and some time might have passed before he saw a print, if he ever did. He definitely never mentioned it in his letters. So we were completely in the dark about it; it was only recently that we became aware of its existence.
On the morning of 7 December another note came from Mrs. Cheves, in answer to a question about the delay; and this letter said that the photograph was being sent off. Accordingly I (O. J. L.), thinking that the photograph might be coming at once, dictated a letter to go to Mr. Hill, recording roughly my impression of what the photograph would be like, on the strength of the communication received by me from 'Raymond' through Mrs. Leonard; and this was posted by A. E. Briscoe about lunch-time on the same day. (See statement by Mr. Briscoe at the end.) My statement to Mr. Hill ran thus:—
On the morning of December 7, I received another note from Mrs. Cheves in response to my question about the delay. This letter stated that the photograph was being sent out. Thinking that the photograph might arrive soon, I (O. J. L.) dictated a letter to Mr. Hill, roughly describing my impression of what the photograph would look like, based on the information I got from 'Raymond' through Mrs. Leonard. A. E. Briscoe mailed it around lunchtime the same day. (See statement by Mr. Briscoe at the end.) My statement to Mr. Hill was as follows:—
Copy of what was written by O. J. L. to Mr. Hill about the
Photograph on the morning of Tuesday, 7 December 1915
"Concerning that photograph which Raymond mentioned through Peters [saying this: 'One where he is in a group of other men. He is particular that I should tell you of this. In one you see his walking-stick,'], [10] he has said some more about it through Mrs. Leonard. But he is doubtful about the stick. What he says is that there is a considerable number of men in the photograph; that the front row is sitting, and that there is a back row, or some of the people grouped and set up at the back; also that there are a dozen or more people in the photograph, and that some of them he hardly knew; that a B is prominent in the photograph, and that there is also a C; that he himself is sitting down, and that there are people behind him, one of whom either leant on his shoulder, or tried to.
"About that photograph Raymond talked about through Peters [saying this: 'One where he is with a group of other men. He especially wants me to tell you about this. You can see his walking stick in it,'] __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ he has shared a little more through Mrs. Leonard. But he's not sure about the stick. What he mentions is that there are quite a few men in the photograph; the front row is seated, and there’s a back row with some people grouped behind; also that there are twelve or more people in the photo, and he barely knows some of them; that a B stands out in the picture, and that there’s also a C; that he himself is sitting down, and there are people behind him, one of whom leaned on his shoulder or tried to."
"The photograph has not come yet, but it may come any day now; so I send this off before I get it.
"The photograph hasn't arrived yet, but it could come any day now, so I'm sending this before I get it."
"The actual record of what was said in the sitting is being typed, but the above represents my impression of it."
"The official record of what was said in the meeting is being typed up, but the above reflects my impression of it."
The photograph was delivered at Mariemont between 3 and 4 p.m. on the afternoon of 7 December. It was a wet afternoon, and the package was received by Rosalynde, who took the wet wrapper off it. Its size was 12 by 9 inches, and was an enlargement from a 5 by 7 [ 110] inch original. The number of people in the photograph is twenty-one, made up as follows:—
The photograph was delivered at Mariemont between 3 and 4 p.m. on the afternoon of December 7. It was a rainy afternoon, and the package was received by Rosalynde, who removed the damp wrapper. Its size was 12 by 9 inches, enlarged from a 5 by 7 inch original. There are twenty-one people in the photograph, made up as follows:—
Five in the front row squatting on the grass, Raymond being one of these; the second from the right.
Five people are sitting on the grass in the front row, and Raymond is one of them; he's the second person from the right.
Seven in the second row seated upon chairs.
Seven people in the second row are sitting in chairs.
Nine in the back row standing up against the outside of a temporary wooden structure such as might be a hospital shed or something of that kind.
Nine people in the back row are standing against the outside of a makeshift wooden structure that looks like a hospital shed or something similar.
On examining the photograph, we found that every peculiarity mentioned by Raymond, unaided by the medium, was strikingly correct. The walking-stick is there (but Peters had put a stick under his arm, which is not correct), and in connexion with the background Feda had indicated vertical lines, not only by gesture but by saying "lines going down," as well as "a black background with lines at the back of them." There are six conspicuous nearly vertical lines on the roof of the shed, but the horizontal lines in the background generally are equally conspicuous.
On looking at the photograph, we realized that every detail Raymond mentioned, without help from the medium, was amazingly accurate. The walking stick is there (though Peters had placed a stick under his arm, which isn't accurate), and related to the background, Feda had pointed out vertical lines, not just by gesture but also by saying "lines going down," along with "a black background with lines behind them." There are six noticeable nearly vertical lines on the roof of the shed, but the horizontal lines in the background are just as prominent.
By "a mixed lot," we understood members of different Companies—not all belonging to Raymond's Company, but a collection from several. This must be correct, as they are too numerous for one Company. It is probable that they all belong to one Regiment, except perhaps one whose cap seems to have a thistle badge instead of three feathers.
By "a mixed lot," we understood members from different Companies—not all from Raymond's Company, but a collection from various ones. This must be accurate, as there are too many for just one Company. It's likely that they all belong to the same Regiment, except maybe one whose cap appears to have a thistle badge instead of three feathers.
As to "prominence," I have asked several people which member of the group seemed to them the most prominent; and except as regards central position, a well-lighted standing figure on the right has usually been pointed to as most prominent. This one is "B," as stated, namely, Captain S. T. Boast.
As for "prominence," I've asked several people which member of the group they think stands out the most; and aside from central position, a well-lit standing figure on the right is usually identified as the most prominent. This figure is "B," specifically Captain S. T. Boast.
Some of the officers must have been barely known to Raymond, while some were his friends. Officers whose names begin with B, with C, and with R were among them; though not any name beginning with K. The nearest approach to a K-sound in the group is one beginning with a hard C.
Some of the officers must have been barely known to Raymond, while some were his friends. Officers whose names start with B, C, and R were among them; though there wasn't any name starting with K. The closest thing to a K-sound in the group is one that starts with a hard C.
Some of the group are sitting, while others are standing behind. Raymond is one of those sitting on the ground in front, and his walking-stick or regulation cane is lying across his feet.
Some of the group are sitting, while others are standing behind. Raymond is one of those sitting on the ground in front, and his walking stick or standard cane is lying across his feet.
7 DECEMBER, 1915, SHOWING AN ARM RESTING ON
RAYMOND'S SHOULDER
The background is dark, and is conspicuously lined.
The background is dark and clearly defined.
It is out of doors, close in front of a shed or military hut, pretty much as suggested to me by the statements made in the 'Leonard' sitting—what I called a "shelter."
It’s outside, right in front of a shed or military hut, much like what was described to me in the 'Leonard' sitting—what I referred to as a "shelter."
But by far the most striking piece of evidence is the fact that some one sitting behind Raymond is leaning or resting a hand on his shoulder. The photograph fortunately shows the actual occurrence, and almost indicates that Raymond was rather annoyed with it; for his face is a little screwed up, and his head has been slightly bent to one side out of the way of the man's arm. It is the only case in the photograph where one man is leaning or resting his hand on the shoulder of another, and I judge that it is a thing not unlikely to be remembered by the one to whom it occurred.
But the most striking piece of evidence is that someone sitting behind Raymond is leaning or resting a hand on his shoulder. The photograph clearly shows the moment, and it almost seems like Raymond was a bit annoyed by it; his face is slightly scrunched up, and he’s tilted his head to one side to avoid the man's arm. It’s the only instance in the photograph where one person is leaning or resting their hand on another's shoulder, and I would guess it’s something that the person experiencing it is likely to remember.
CONFIRMATORY STATEMENTS
Raymond's Mom's Statement
Four days ago (6 December), I was looking through my son Raymond's Diary which had been returned with his kit from the Front. (The edges are soaked, and some of the leaves stuck together, with his blood.) I was struck by finding an entry "Photo taken" under the date 24 August, and I entered the fact in my own Diary at once, thus:—
Four days ago (6 December), I was looking through my son Raymond's diary that had been sent back with his belongings from the front. (The edges are soaked, and some of the pages are stuck together with his blood.) I was taken aback when I found an entry that said "Photo taken" under the date 24 August, and I quickly noted it in my own diary like this:—
"6 December.—Read Raymond's Diary for first time, saw record of 'photo taken' 24 August."
"December 6.—I read Raymond's Diary for the first time and noticed the entry for 'photo taken' on August 24."
(Signed) Mary F. A. Lodge
(Signed) Mary F. A. Lodge
10 December 1915
December 10, 1915
Statement by A. E. Briscoe
The dictated letter to Mr. Hill, recording roughly Sir Oliver's impression of what the photograph would be like, was written out by me on the morning of Tuesday, 7 December, at Mariemont; it was signed by Sir Oliver at about noon, and shortly afterwards I started for the University, taking that and other letters with me for posting in town. I went straight to the University, and at lunch-time (about 1.30) posted the packet to Mr. Hill at the General Post Office.
I wrote a letter to Mr. Hill expressing Sir Oliver's thoughts on what the photograph would look like on the morning of Tuesday, December 7, at Mariemont. Sir Oliver signed it around noon, and shortly after that, I headed to the University, taking that letter along with others to mail in town. I went straight to the University, and at lunchtime (around 1:30), I sent the package to Mr. Hill at the General Post Office.
(In the packet, I remember, there was also a letter on another subject, and a printed document from Mr. Gow, the Editor of Light.)
(In the package, I remember there was also a letter about something else, and a printed document from Mr. Gow, the Editor of Light.)
(Signed) A. E. Briscoe
(Signed) A. E. Briscoe
8 December 1915
8 December 1915
Statement by A.E. Briscoe
The dictated letter to Mr. Hill, recording roughly Sir Oliver's impression of what the photograph would be like, was written out by me on the morning of Tuesday, 7 December, at Mariemont; it was signed by Sir Oliver at about noon, and shortly afterwards I started for the University, taking that and other letters with me for posting in town. I went straight to the University, and at lunch-time (about 1.30) posted the packet to Mr. Hill at the General Post Office.
I wrote a letter to Mr. Hill reflecting Sir Oliver's thoughts on what the photograph would look like on the morning of Tuesday, December 7, at Mariemont. Sir Oliver signed it around noon, and shortly after, I went to the University, taking that letter and a few others to mail in town. I went directly to the University, and during lunch (around 1:30), I dropped off the package for Mr. Hill at the General Post Office.
(In the packet, I remember, there was also a letter on another subject, and a printed document from Mr. Gow, the Editor of Light.)
(I remember that the packet also included a letter on a different topic and a printed document from Mr. Gow, the Editor of Light.)
(Signed) A. E. Briscoe,
Secretary to Sir Oliver Lodge(Signed) A. E. Briscoe,
Secretary to Sir Oliver Lodge8 December 1915
8 December 1915
Statement from Rosalynde
I was sitting in the library at Mariemont about 3.45 on Tuesday afternoon, 7 December 1915, when Harrison came in with a flat cardboard parcel addressed to Mother. Mother was resting; and as the paper, wrapping up what I took to be the photograph, was wet with the rain, I undid it and left the photograph in tissue paper on a table, having just glanced at it to see if it was the one we'd been waiting for.
I was sitting in the library at Mariemont around 3:45 PM on Tuesday, December 7, 1915, when Harrison came in with a flat cardboard package addressed to Mom. Mom was resting, and since the paper wrapping the photograph was wet from the rain, I opened it up and left the photo wrapped in tissue paper on a table, quickly glancing at it to see if it was the one we’d been waiting for.
No one saw it or was shown it till after tea, when I showed it to Mother. That would be about 6. Mrs. Thompson, Lorna, and Barbara now also saw it. Honor was not at home and did not see it till later.
No one saw it or was shown it until after tea, when I showed it to Mom. That was around 6 PM. Mrs. Thompson, Lorna, and Barbara also saw it then. Honor wasn't home and didn't see it until later.
(Signed) R. V. Lodge
(Signed) R. V. Lodge
8 December 1915
December 8, 1915
Note by O. J. L.
In answer to an inquiry, Messrs. Gale & Polden, of Aldershot and London, the firm whose name was printed at the foot of the photograph, informed me that it was "from a negative of a group of Officers sent to us by Captain Boast of the 2nd South Lancashire Regiment"; and having kindly looked up the date, they further tell me that they received the negative from Captain Boast on 15 October 1915.
In response to a question, Messrs. Gale & Polden, based in Aldershot and London, the company whose name appeared at the bottom of the photograph, let me know that it was "from a negative of a group of Officers sent to us by Captain Boast of the 2nd South Lancashire Regiment"; and after kindly checking the details, they also informed me that they received the negative from Captain Boast on 15 October 1915.
It will be remembered that information about the existence of the photograph came through Peters on 27 September—more than a fortnight, therefore, before the negative reached England.
It will be remembered that the information about the existence of the photograph came through Peters on September 27—more than two weeks, therefore, before the negative reached England.
The photograph is only shown here because of its evidential interest. Considered as a likeness of Raymond, it is an exceptionally bad one; he appears shrunk into an uncomfortable position.
The photograph is included here solely for its evidential interest. As a representation of Raymond, it is extremely unflattering; he looks contorted into an awkward position.
More Info on the Photo
Extract from a letter by Captain Boast from the Trenches,
dated 7 May 1916, to Mrs. Case, and lent me to see
"Some months ago (last summer) the Officers of our Battalion had their photo taken.... You see, the photographer who took us was a man who had been shelled out of house and home, and as he had no means of doing the photos for us, we bought the negatives, and sent them along to be finished in England."
"A few months ago (last summer), our Battalion's Officers had their photo taken... The photographer who took it had to leave his home because of shelling, and since he couldn't develop the photos for us, we bought the negatives and sent them to England to be processed."
A later Letter from Captain Boast
In answer to a special inquiry addressed to Captain Boast at the Front, he has been good enough to favour me with the following letter:—
In response to a specific question directed to Captain Boast at the Front, he has kindly provided me with the following letter:—
"10 July 1916
"10 July 1916
"Dear Sir,—Your letter of 4 July has just reached me. The proofs of the photographs referred to were received by me from the photographer at Reninghelst two or three days after being taken. To the best of my belief, your son saw the proofs, but I cannot now say positively. I obtained particulars of requirements from the officers forming the group, but the photographer then found he was unable to obtain paper for printing. I therefore bought the negatives and sent them home to Gale & Polden. In view of the fact that your son did not go back to the trenches till 12 September 1915, it is highly probable that he saw the proofs, but he certainly did not see the negatives.—Yours faithfully,
Dear Sir,—I just received your letter from July 4. I got the proofs of the photographs mentioned from the photographer in Reninghelst two or three days after they were taken. If I remember correctly, your son looked at the proofs, but I can’t say for sure now. I got the information needed from the officers in the group, but then the photographer found out he couldn't get paper for printing. So, I bought the negatives and sent them back to Gale & Polden. Since your son didn't return to the trenches until September 12, 1915, it’s very possible he saw the proofs, but he definitely didn’t see the negatives.—Yours faithfully,
"(Signed) Sydney T. Boast"
"(Signed) Sydney T. Boast"
It thus appears that Raymond had probably seen a proof of the photograph, but that there were no copies or prints available. Consequently neither we, nor any other people at home, could have received them; and the negatives were only received in England by Gale & Polden on 15 October 1915, after Peters had mentioned the existence of the photograph, which he did on 27 September 1915.
It seems that Raymond had likely seen a proof of the photograph, but there were no copies or prints available. As a result, neither we nor anyone else at home could have received them; the negatives were only received in England by Gale & Polden on October 15, 1915, after Peters had mentioned the photograph's existence on September 27, 1915.
I obtained from Messrs. Gale & Polden prints of all the accessible photographs which had been taken at the same time. The size of these prints was 5 by 7 inches.
I got prints of all the available photographs taken at the same time from Messrs. Gale & Polden. The size of these prints was 5 by 7 inches.
I found that the group had been repeated, with slight variations, three times—the Officers all in the same relative positions, but not in identically the same attitudes. One of the three prints is the same as the one we had seen, with some one's hand resting on Raymond's shoulder, and Raymond's head leaning a little on one side, as if rather annoyed. In another the hand had been removed, being supported by the owner's stick; and in that one Raymond's head is upright. This corresponds to his uncertainty as [ 114] to whether he was actually taken with the man leaning on him or not. In the third, however, the sitting officer's leg rests against Raymond's shoulder as he squats in front, and the slant of the head and slight look of annoyance have returned.
I noticed that the group had been repeated, with slight variations, three times—the Officers all in the same relative positions, but not in exactly the same attitudes. One of the three prints is the same as the one we had seen, with someone’s hand resting on Raymond’s shoulder, and Raymond’s head leaning a little to one side, as if slightly annoyed. In another, the hand has been removed, supported by the owner’s stick; in that one, Raymond’s head is upright. This matches his uncertainty as [ 114] to whether he was actually bothered by the man leaning on him or not. In the third, however, the seated officer's leg rests against Raymond’s shoulder as he squats in front, and the tilt of the head and slight look of annoyance have returned.
These two additional photographs are here reproduced. Their merit is in showing that the leaning on him, mentioned by 'Raymond' through Feda, was well marked, and yet that he was quite right in being uncertain whether he was actually being leant on while the photograph was being taken. The fact turns out to be that during two exposures he was being leaned on, and during one exposure he was not. It was, so to speak, lucky that the edition sent us happened to show in one form the actual leaning.
These two extra photographs are included here. They highlight the leaning on him that 'Raymond' mentioned through Feda, which is clearly evident, yet he was justified in being unsure whether he was actually being leaned on while the photo was taken. It turns out that during two of the exposures, he was being leaned on, and during one exposure, he wasn’t. It was, in a way, fortunate that the version sent to us happened to show the actual leaning in one of the images.
I have since discovered what is apparently the only
other photograph of Officers in which Raymond occurs,
but it is quite a different one, and none of the description
applies to it. For it is completely in the open air, and
Raymond is standing up in the hinder of two rows. He is
second from the left, the tall one in the middle is his friend
Lieutenant Case, and standing next him is Mr. Ventris
(see p. 279). It is fortunate again that this photograph
did not happen to be the one sent us; for we should have
considered the description hopelessly wrong.
I’ve since found what seems to be the only other photo of Officers featuring Raymond, but it’s quite different, and none of the description fits it. It’s taken entirely outdoors, and Raymond is standing at the back in two rows. He’s second from the left; the tall guy in the middle is his friend Lieutenant Case, and next to him is Mr. Ventris (see p. 279). It’s a good thing this photo wasn’t the one sent to us, or we would have thought the description was completely off.
SUMMARY
Final Note by O. J. L.
As to the evidential value of the whole communication, it will be observed that there is something of the nature of cross-correspondence, of a simple kind, in the fact that a reference to the photograph was made through one medium, and a description given, in answer to a question, through another independent one.
As for the value of the entire communication, you'll notice that there's a bit of cross-correspondence happening here. A mention of the photograph was made by one medium, and then a description was provided, in response to a question, by a different independent medium.
The episode is to be published in the Proceedings of the S.P.R. for 1916, and a few further facts or comments are there added.
The episode will be published in the Proceedings of the S.P.R. for 1916, and a few additional facts or comments are included.
The elimination of ordinary telepathy from the living, except under the far-fetched hypothesis of the unconscious influence of complete strangers, was exceptionally complete; [ 115] inasmuch as the whole of the information was recorded before any of us had seen the photograph.
The removal of regular telepathy from the living, unless based on the unlikely idea of unconscious influence by total strangers, was incredibly thorough; [ 115] since all of the information was documented before any of us had viewed the photograph.
Even the establishment of a date in August for the taking of the photograph, as mentioned first in Mrs. Cheves' letter and confirmed by finding an entry in Raymond's Diary, is important, because the last time we ever saw Raymond was in July.
Even setting a date in August for taking the photograph, as first mentioned in Mrs. Cheves' letter and confirmed by an entry in Raymond's Diary, is significant, because the last time we saw Raymond was in July.
To my mind the whole incident is rather exceptionally
good as a piece of evidence; and that 'Raymond' expected
it to be good evidence is plain from Peters's ('Moonstone's')
statement, at that first reference to a photograph on 27
September, namely, "He is particular that I should tell
you of this." (This sentence it probably was which made
me look out for such a photograph, and take pains to get
records soundly made beforehand.) Our complete ignorance,
even of the existence of the photograph, in the first
place, and secondly the delayed manner in which knowledge
of it normally came to us, so that we were able to make
provision for getting the supernormally acquired details
definitely noted beforehand, seem to me to make it a first-class
case. While, as to the amount of coincidence between
the description and the actual photograph, that surely is
quite beyond chance or guesswork. For not only are many
things right, but practically nothing is wrong.
In my opinion, the whole incident is an exceptionally strong piece of evidence, and it's clear from Peters’s ("Moonstone's") statement at that first mention of a photograph on September 27 that 'Raymond' expected it to be good evidence: "He is particular that I should tell you of this." (It was probably this sentence that made me look for such a photograph and motivated me to ensure thorough records were made in advance.) Our complete ignorance, first of the photograph's existence and then of the delayed way in which we learned about it, meant that we couldn't prepare to get the unusually acquired details properly noted in advance, which I think makes it a top-notch case. Additionally, the degree of coincidence between the description and the actual photograph is clearly beyond chance or guesswork. Not only are many details correct, but practically nothing is wrong.
CALENDAR
| 20 July 1915 | Raymond's last visit home. |
| 24 August 1915 | Photograph taken at the Front, as |
| shown by entry in Raymond's | |
| private Diary, not mentioned | |
| by him. | |
| 14 September 1915 | Raymond's death. |
| 27 September 1915 | Peters' ('Moonstone's') mention of |
| the photo as a message from | |
| 'Raymond.' | |
| 15 October 1915 | Negative sent with other negatives |
| by Capt. Sydney T. Boast, from | |
| the Front in Flanders, to Sir/Madam. | |
| Gale & Polden, Aldershot, for | |
| printing. | |
| 29 November 1915 | Mrs. Cheves wrote spontaneously, |
| saying that she had a group photo | |
| of some 2nd South | |
| Lancashire Officers, which she | |
| can send if needed. [ 116] | |
| 3 December 1915 | Feda's (Mrs. Leonard's) further description |
| of a photo that | |
| had been mentioned by someone else | |
| medium, in response to a | |
| direct question to 'Raymond.' | |
| 6 December 1915 | M. F. A. L. found an entry in Raymond's |
| Diary indicating that a | |
| photo was taken on | |
| August 24. | |
| Morning of 7 Dec. 1915 | To make sure, O. J. L. wrote to |
| J. A. H.'s impression of the | |
| photo before it arrived. | |
| Afternoon of 7 Dec 1915 | Arrival of the photograph. |
| Evening of 7 Dec 1915 | The photograph was shown to the |
| home members of the family, and | |
| examined by O.J.L. |
Footnotes
Footnotes
[10] This bit not written to J. A. H., but is copied from Peters's sitting, of which Mr. Hill had seen the record.
CHAPTER 5
Start of Historical Record of
Sessions
Although this episode of the photograph is a good and evidential one, I should be sorry to base an important conclusion on any one piece of evidence, however cogent. All proofs are really cumulative; and though it is legitimate to emphasise anything like a crucial instance, it always needs supplementing by many others, lest there may have been some oversight. Accordingly, I now proceed to quote from sittings held by members of the family after Raymond's death—laying stress upon those which were arranged for, and held throughout, in an anonymous manner, so that there was not the slightest normal clue to identity.
Although this episode of the photograph is a solid piece of evidence, I wouldn’t want to base an important conclusion on just one piece of evidence, no matter how convincing it is. All proofs really build on each other; and while it’s valid to highlight a critical example, it should always be supported by many others to avoid any potential oversights. Therefore, I will now quote from sessions held by family members after Raymond’s death—focusing on those that were organized and conducted anonymously, so there was no normal clue to identity whatsoever.
The first message came to us through a recent friend
of ours in London, Mrs. Kennedy, who herself has the
power of automatic writing, and who, having lost her
specially beloved son Paul, has had her hand frequently
controlled by him—usually only so as to give affectionate
messages, but sometimes in a moderately evidential way.
She had been sceptical about the genuineness of this power
apparently possessed by herself; and it was her painful
uncertainty on this point that had brought her into correspondence
with me, for she was trying to test her own
writing in various ways, as she was so anxious not to be
deceived. The first I ever heard of her was the following
letter which came while I was in Australia, and was dealt
with by Mr. Hill:—
The first message came to us through a friend of ours in London, Mrs. Kennedy, who has the ability of automatic writing. After losing her dearly loved son Paul, she often felt his presence guiding her hand—mostly to send affectionate messages, but sometimes with moderate evidence. She had been skeptical about the authenticity of this ability she seemed to have, and her painful doubt on this issue had led her to reach out to me. She was trying to test her own writing in various ways because she was very eager not to be misled. The first I ever heard from her was the following letter that arrived while I was in Australia, which Mr. Hill handled:—
FIRST LETTER FROM MRS. KENNEDY TO O. J. L.
"16 August 1914
"August 16, 1914
"Sir Oliver Lodge.
"Sir Oliver Lodge.
"Dear Sir,—Because of your investigations into spirit life, I venture to ask your help.
"Dear Sir,—Due to your research on spiritual matters, I would like to seek your help."
"My only son died 23 June, eight weeks after a terrible accident. On 25 June (without my asking for it or having thought of it) I felt obliged to hold a pencil, and I received in automatic writing his name and 'yes' and 'no' in answer to questions.
"My only son passed away on June 23, eight weeks after a severe accident. On June 25 (without me asking for it or even thinking about it), I felt an overwhelming urge to grab a pencil, and through automatic writing, I received his name along with 'yes' and 'no' in response to my questions."
"Since then I have had several pages of writing from him every day and sometimes twice daily. I say 'from him'; the whole torturing question is—is it from him or am I self-deceived?
"Since then, I’ve been getting several pages of writing from him every day, sometimes even twice a day. I say 'from him'; the whole frustrating question is—am I actually receiving this from him, or am I just deceiving myself?"
"My knowledge is infinitesimal. Nineteen years ago a sister who had died the year before suddenly used my hand, and after that wrote short messages at intervals; another sister a year later, and my father one message sixteen years ago; but I felt so self-deceived that I always pushed it aside, until it came back to me, unasked, after my son's passing over.
"My understanding is minimal. Nineteen years ago, a sister who passed away the previous year suddenly used my hand to write something, and after that, she would send short messages occasionally; another sister did the same a year later, and my father sent one message sixteen years ago. But I felt so misled that I always dismissed it, until it returned to me unexpectedly after my son died."
"Your knowledge is what I appeal to, and the deep, personal respect one has for you and your investigations. It is for my son's sake—he is only seventeen—and he writes with such intense sadness of my lack of decided belief that I venture to beg help of a stranger in a matter so sacred to me.
"I'm counting on your expertise and the deep respect I have for you and your work. It's about my son—he's only seventeen—and he expresses such deep sorrow about my doubts that I feel I must reach out to a stranger for help with something so crucial to me."
"Do you ever come to London, and, if so, could you possibly allow me to see you for even half an hour? and you might judge from the strange and holy revelations (I know no other way to express many of the messages that are sent) whether they can possibly be only from my own subconscious mind.... Pardon this length of letter.—Yours faithfully,
"Do you ever visit London? If so, could we meet for even half an hour? You might evaluate the strange and profound insights (that’s the best way I can describe many of the messages I receive) to see if they could really just be coming from my own subconscious.... I apologize for the long letter.—Yours faithfully,
"(Signed) Katherine Kennedy"
"(Signed) Katherine Kennedy"
Ultimately I was able to take her anonymously and unexpectedly to an American medium, Mrs. Wriedt, and there she received strong and unmistakable proofs.[11] She also received excellent confirmation through several other mediums whom she had discovered for herself—notably Mr. Vout Peters and Mrs. Osborne Leonard. Of Mrs. Leonard I had not previously heard; I had heard of a Madame St. Leonard, or some name like that, but this is somebody else. Mrs. Kennedy tells me that she herself had not known Mrs. Leonard long, her own first sitting with that lady having been on 14 September 1915. I must emphasise the fact that Mrs. Kennedy is keen and careful about evidential considerations.
Ultimately, I was able to take her anonymously and unexpectedly to an American medium, Mrs. Wriedt, where she received strong and undeniable proof. She also got great confirmation from several other mediums she found on her own—especially Mr. Vout Peters and Mrs. Osborne Leonard. I hadn't heard of Mrs. Leonard before; I had heard of a Madame St. Leonard, or something like that, but this is someone different. Mrs. Kennedy tells me she hadn't known Mrs. Leonard for long, her first session with her being on September 14, 1915. I want to emphasize that Mrs. Kennedy is thorough and careful when it comes to evidential matters.
As Mrs. Kennedy's son Paul plays a part in what [ 119] follows, perhaps it is permissible to quote here a description of him which she gave to Mr. Hill in October 1914, accompanying an expression of surprise at the serious messages which she sometimes received from him—interspersed with his fun and his affection:—
As Mrs. Kennedy’s son Paul plays a role in what [ 119] comes next, it might be fitting to share her description of him that she gave to Mr. Hill in October 1914, along with her surprise at the serious messages she occasionally got from him—mixed with his humor and affection:—
K. K.'s DESCRIPTION OF PAUL
"Picture to yourself this boy: not quite eighteen but always taken for twenty or twenty-two; an almost divine character underneath, but exteriorly a typical 'motor knut,' driving racing-cars at Brooklands, riding for the Jarrott Cup on a motor cycle, and flying at Hendon as an Air Mechanic; dining out perpetually, because of his charm which made him almost besieged by friends; and apparently without any creed except honour, generosity, love of children, the bringing home of every stray cat to be fed here and comforted, a total disregard of social distinctions when choosing his friends, and a hatred of hurting anyone's feelings."
"Picture this boy: just under eighteen but often seen as twenty or twenty-two; he has an almost divine quality within, yet on the outside, he’s a typical 'motor enthusiast,' racing cars at Brooklands, competing for the Jarrott Cup on a motorcycle, and working as an Air Mechanic at Hendon; always going out to eat, thanks to his charm that draws friends to him like a magnet; and seemingly having no beliefs other than honor, generosity, a love for children, bringing home every stray cat to feed and care for, completely disregarding social status when making friends, and a strong aversion to hurting anyone's feelings."
On seeing the announcement of Mr. R. Lodge's death in a newspaper, Mrs. Kennedy 'spoke' to Paul about it, and asked him to help; she also asked for a special sitting with Mrs. Leonard for the same purpose, though without saying why. The name Raymond was on that occasion spelt out through the medium, and he was said to be sleeping. This was on 18 September. On the 21st, while Mrs. Kennedy was writing in her garden on ordinary affairs, her own hand suddenly wrote, as from her son Paul:—
On seeing the announcement of Mr. R. Lodge's death in a newspaper, Mrs. Kennedy mentioned it to Paul and asked for his help; she also requested a special session with Mrs. Leonard for the same reason, though she didn’t explain why. On that occasion, the name Raymond was spelled out through the medium, and it was said that he was sleeping. This was on September 18. On the 21st, while Mrs. Kennedy was writing in her garden about ordinary matters, her hand unexpectedly began writing as if it were from her son Paul:—
"I am here.... I have seen that boy Sir Oliver's son; he's better, and has had a splendid rest, tell his people."
"I’m here…. I’ve seen Sir Oliver’s son; he’s doing better and has had a great rest, so let his family know."
Lady Lodge having been told about Mrs. Leonard, and wanting to help a widowed French lady, Madame Le Breton, who had lost both her sons, and was on a visit to England, asked Mrs. Kennedy to arrange a sitting, so as to avoid giving any name. A sitting was accordingly arranged with Mrs. Leonard for 24 September 1915.
Lady Lodge, having heard about Mrs. Leonard and wanting to help a widowed French woman, Madame Le Breton, who had lost both her sons and was visiting England, asked Mrs. Kennedy to set up a meeting to keep the name confidential. A meeting was arranged with Mrs. Leonard for September 24, 1915.
On 22 September, Mrs. Kennedy, while having what she called a 'talk' with Paul, suddenly wrote automatically:—
On September 22, Mrs. Kennedy, while having what she referred to as a 'talk' with Paul, suddenly wrote down her thoughts without thinking:—
"I shall bring Raymond to his father when he comes to see you.... He is so jolly, every one loves him; [ 120] he has found heaps of his own folks here,and he is settling down wonderfully. Do tell his father and mother.... He spoke clearly to-day.... He doesn't fight like the others, he seems so settled already. It is a ripping thing to see one boy like this. He has been sleeping a long time, but he has spoken to-day....
"I'll bring Raymond to see his dad when he comes to visit you.... He's so cheerful, everyone loves him; [ 120] he's found a lot of his relatives here, and he's really settling in well. Please inform his mom and dad..... He spoke clearly today.... He doesn't fight like the others; he already seems so grounded. It's amazing to see a boy like this. He has been sleeping for a long time, but he talked today....
"If you people only knew how we long to come, they would all call us."
"If you all only knew how much we want to come, they would all call us."
[Capitals indicate large and emphatic writing.]
[Capital letters are used for emphasis and to convey strength.]
On the 23rd, during Lady Lodge's call, Mrs. Kennedy's hand wrote what purported to be a brief message from Raymond, thus:—
On the 23rd, while Lady Lodge was visiting, Mrs. Kennedy's hand wrote what seemed to be a short message from Raymond, like this:—
"I am here, mother.... I have been to Alec already, but he can't hear me. I do wish he would believe that we are here safe; it isn't a dismal hole like people think, it is a place where there is life."
"I’m here, Mom.... I’ve already been to Alec, but he can’t hear me. I really wish he would believe that we’re safe here; it’s not a gloomy hole like people think, it’s a place full of life."
And again:
And again:
"Wait till I have learned better how to speak like this.... We can express all we want later; give me time."
"Just wait until I've figured out how to speak like this better.... We can say everything we want later; just give me some time."
I need hardly say that there is nothing in the least evidential in all this. I quote it only for the sake of reasonable completeness, so as to give the history from the beginning. Evidence comes later.
I hardly need to point out that there's nothing at all convincing in all this. I mention it only for the sake of being thorough, to provide the history from the start. Evidence will come later.
Next day, 24 September 1915, the ladies went for an interview with Mrs. Leonard, who knew no more than that friends of Mrs. Kennedy would accompany her. The following is Lady Lodge's account of the sitting:—
Next day, September 24, 1915, the ladies went for a meeting with Mrs. Leonard, who only knew that friends of Mrs. Kennedy would be with her. The following is Lady Lodge's account of the session:—
First Sitting of any Member of the Family (Anonymous)
with Mrs. Leonard
GENERAL ACCOUNT BY M. F. A. L.
September 24, 1915
Mrs. Leonard went into a sort of trance, I suppose, and came back as a little Indian girl called 'Freda,' or 'Feda,' rubbing her hands, and talking in the silly way they do.
Mrs. Leonard seemed to go into a sort of trance and came back as a little Native American girl named 'Freda' or 'Feda,' rubbing her hands and speaking in that playful manner they sometimes do.
However, she soon said there was an old gentleman and a young one present, whom she described; and Mrs. Kennedy told [ 121] me afterwards that they were her father and her son Paul. There seemed to be many others standing beside us, so 'Feda' said.
She quickly pointed out that there was an older man and a younger one present, describing them; later, Mrs. Kennedy told me that they were her father and her son Paul. It felt like there were many others standing nearby, or so 'Feda' mentioned.
Then Feda described some one brought in lying down—about twenty-four or twenty-five, not yet able to sit up; the features she described might quite well have belonged to Raymond. (I forgot to say Mrs. Leonard did not know me or my name, or Madame le Breton's.) Feda soon said she saw a large R beside this young man, then an A, then she got a long letter with a tail, which she could not make out, then she drew an M in the air, but forgot to mention it, and she said an O came next, and she said there was another O with a long stroke to it, and finally, she said she heard 'Yaymond' (which is only her way of pronouncing it). [The name was presumably got from 'Paul.'—O. J. L.] Then she said that he just seemed to open his eyes and smile; and then he had a choking feeling, which distressed me very much; but he said he hadn't suffered much—not nearly as much as I should think; whether he said this, or Paul, I forget; but Paul asked me not to tell him to-morrow night that I was not with him, as he had so much the feeling that I was with him when he died, that he (Paul) wouldn't like to undeceive him.
Then Feda talked about someone who was lying down—about twenty-four or twenty-five years old, unable to sit up yet; the features she described could easily match Raymond's. (I forgot to mention that Mrs. Leonard didn’t know who I was or my name, nor Madame le Breton.) Feda quickly noted that she saw a large R next to this young man, then an A, then she got a long letter with a tail that she couldn’t figure out, then she drew an M in the air but forgot to mention it. She said an O came next, and then she said there was another O with a long stroke. Finally, she said she heard 'Yaymond' (which was her way of saying it). [The name presumably came from 'Paul.'—O. J. L.] Then she said he just seemed to open his eyes and smile; after that, he felt a choking sensation, which really worried me; but he said he hadn’t suffered much—not nearly as much as I would think. I can't remember if he said this or if it was Paul, but Paul asked me not to tell him tomorrow night that I wasn't with him, as he felt so strongly that I was by his side when he died, and he (Paul) wouldn’t want to change that belief.
I then asked that some one in that other world might kiss him for me, and a lady, whom they described in a way which was just like my mother, came and kissed him, and said she was taking care of him. And there was also an old gentleman, full white beard, etc. (evidently my stepfather, but Feda said with a moustache, which was a mistake), with W. up beside him, also taking care; said he had met Raymond, and he was looking after him, and lots of others too; but said he [W.] belonged to me and to 'O.' [Correct.] I asked how and what it was he had done for me, and Feda made a movement with her fingers, as though disentangling something, and then putting it into straight lines. He then said he had made things easier for me. So I said that was right, and thanked him gratefully. I said also that if Raymond was in his and Mamma's hands, I was satisfied.
I then asked if someone in that other world could kiss him for me, and a lady, whom they described similarly to my mother, came and kissed him, saying she was taking care of him. There was also an older man with a full white beard (obviously my stepfather, although Feda mistakenly said he had a mustache), alongside W., who was also looking after him. He mentioned that he had met Raymond and was taking care of him, along with many others as well. But he said that W. belonged to me and to 'O.' [Correct.] I asked how and what he had done for me, and Feda moved her fingers as if she were untangling something and then organizing it into straight lines. He then said he had made things easier for me. So I agreed and thanked him genuinely. I also mentioned that if Raymond was in his and Mom's care, I was satisfied.
[I do not append the notes of this sitting, since it was
held mainly for Madame and her two sons, both of whom
were described, and from whom some messages appeared
to come.]
[I do not include the notes from this meeting, as it was primarily for Madame and her two sons, both of whom were discussed, and from whom some messages seemed to originate.]
Table Sitting at Mrs. Leonard's
Next day (Saturday, 25 September 1915), as arranged partly by Paul, the three ladies went to Mrs. Leonard's house again for a sitting with a table, and Dr. Kennedy kindly accompanied them to take notes.
Next day (Saturday, September 25, 1915), as planned partly by Paul, the three ladies went to Mrs. Leonard's house again for a session with a table, and Dr. Kennedy kindly went with them to take notes.
The three ladies and the medium sat round a small table, with their hands lightly on it, and it tilted in the usual way. The plan adopted here is for the table to tilt [ 122] as each letter of the alphabet is spoken by the medium, and to stop, or 'hold,' when a right letter is reached. For general remarks on the rationale, or what most people will naturally consider the absurdity, of intelligent movements of this kind, see Chapter XIV, Part III.
The three women and the medium gathered around a small table, their hands resting lightly on it, and it tilted as expected. The method used here is for the table to tilt [ 122] every time the medium speaks a letter of the alphabet, and to stop, or 'hold,' when the right letter is reached. For general comments on the reasoning behind this, or what many people might understandably see as the absurdity of these intelligent movements, see Chapter XIV, Part III.
It was a rather complicated sitting, as it was mainly for Madame who was a novice in the subject. Towards the end unfortunately, though momentarily and not at all pronouncedly, she spoke to Lady Lodge by name. At these table sittings the medium, Mrs. Leonard, is not unconscious; accordingly she heard it in her normal self, and afterwards said that she had heard it. The following extracts from the early part of the sitting may be quoted here, as answers purporting to be spelt out by Raymond:—
It was a pretty complicated session, mainly because Madame was new to the topic. Unfortunately, towards the end, she briefly mentioned Lady Lodge by name. During these sessions, the medium, Mrs. Leonard, is fully aware; so she heard it in her usual state and later confirmed that she had heard it. The following excerpts from the beginning of the session can be included here, as answers that were supposedly spelled out by Raymond:—
| Questions | Responses |
| Are you lonely? | No. |
| Who is with you? | Grandfather W. |
| Have you anything to say to me? | You know I can't help missing you, |
| but I am learning how to be happy. | |
| Have you any message for any of them? | Tell them I have many good friends. |
| Can you tell me the name of anyone at home? | Honor. [One of his sisters.] |
| (Other messages of affection and | naturalness.) |
| Have I enough to satisfy them at home? | No. |
| Is there anything you want to send? | Tell father I have met some friends of his. |
| Any name? | Yes; Myers. |
| Have you anything else to say? | (No answer.) |
| Is some one else there? | Yes; Guy. (This was a son of Madame, |
| and the sitting turned French.) |
Reasonable and natural messages were spelt out in French. The other son of Madame was named Didier, and an unsuccessful attempt to spell this name was made, but the only result was Dodi.
Reasonable and natural messages were written in French. Madame's other son was named Didier, and there was an unsuccessful attempt to spell this name, but the only result was Dodi.
Automatic Writing by Mrs. Kennedy, 26 September
On 26 September Mrs. Kennedy (alone) had a lot of automatic writing, with her own hand, mainly from Paul, who presently wrote, "Mother, I have been let to bring Raymond."
On September 26, Mrs. Kennedy (alone) did a lot of automatic writing, using her own hand, mostly from Paul, who then wrote, "Mom, I’ve been allowed to bring Raymond."
(After a welcome, Raymond was represented as sending this message:—)
(After a welcome, Raymond was said to be sending this message:—)
"I can speak easier than I could at the table, because you are helping all the time. It is easy when we are alone with you, but if I go there it confuses me a little.... I long to comfort them. Will you tell them that Raymond had been to you, and that Paul tells me I can come to you whenever I like? It is so good of you to let the boys all come...."
"I can talk more easily than I could at the table because you’re helping all the time. It’s easier when we’re alone with you, but if I go over there, it confuses me a bit... I really want to comfort them. Can you tell them that Raymond came to see you, and that Paul said I can come to you anytime? It’s so kind of you to let the boys come over..."
"Paul tells me he has been here since he was seventeen; he is a jolly chap; every one seems fond of him. I don't wonder, for he helps every one. It seems a rule to call Paul if you get in a fix."
"Paul tells me he’s been here since he was seventeen; he’s a cheerful guy; everyone seems to like him. I’m not surprised, because he helps everyone. It seems like a rule to call Paul if you find yourself in a tough spot."
(Then Paul said he was back, and wrote:—)
(Then Paul said he was back, and wrote:—)
"He is quite happy really since he finds he can get to his people. He has slept ever since last night, till I was told to fetch him to-night."
"He’s really pretty happy because he realizes he can reach his people. He’s been asleep since last night, until I was told to bring him tonight."
(Asked about the French boys, Paul said:—)
(Asked about the French boys, Paul said:—)
"I saw them when I brought them, but I don't see them otherwise; they are older than I am ... they hardly believe it yet that they have spoken. All the time they felt it was impossible, and they nearly gave it up, but I kept on begging them to tell their mother they lived."
"I saw them when I brought them, but I don't see them any other time; they are older than I am... they can hardly believe they've actually spoken. All along, they felt it was impossible, and they almost gave up, but I kept insisting they tell their mother they were alive."
"I do hope she felt it true, mother...."
"I really hope she felt it was real, mom...."
"It is hard to think your sons are dead; but such a lot of people do think it. It is revolting to hear the boys tell you how no one speaks to them ever; it hurts me through and through."
"It’s tough to believe your sons are gone; but a lot of people really do think that. It’s upsetting to listen to the boys tell you how no one ever talks to them; it hurts me deeply."
(Interval. Paul fetched Guy [one of Madame Le Breton's sons], saying:—)
(Interval. Paul went to get Guy [one of Madame Le Breton's sons], saying:—)
"I can't stand it when they call out for help. Speak to him please, mother."
"I can't stand it when they shout for help. Please talk to him, mom."
(Mrs. Kennedy spoke to Guy, saying that she felt he could not believe any of it, but would he give time and trouble to studying the subject as she was doing? The following writing came:—)
(Mrs. Kennedy spoke to Guy, saying that she felt he couldn't believe any of it, but would he take the time and effort to study the subject like she was? The following writing came:—)
Guy.—I think you hear me because it is just as I am feeling; how CAN I believe we can speak to you who live where we once lived? It was not possible then for us to speak to dead people; and why should it be possible for us to speak. Will you keep on helping me, please, for I can't follow it, and I long to?
Dude.—I think you can hear me because that's how I feel; how CAN I believe we can talk to you who live where we once lived? It wasn't possible for us to communicate with the dead back then; so why should it be possible for us to talk now? Will you please keep helping me, because I can't grasp this, and I really want to?
(Mrs. Kennedy asked him to ask Paul, that being an easier method, probably, than getting information through her. She asked him to 'excuse' Paul's youth.)
(Mrs. Kennedy asked him to ask Paul, as that was likely an easier way to get information than going through her. She asked him to 'pardon' Paul's youth.)
Guy.—I like Paul; he is good to us. I shall be glad to talk to him constantly if he has time for all of us; he seems a sort of messenger between us and you, isn't he?
Dude.—I like Paul; he treats us well. I’d be happy to talk to him all the time if he has time for all of us; he seems like a sort of messenger between us and you, right?
[Guy had been to school in England, his brother had not.]
[Guy had gone to school in England; his brother hadn’t.]
Footnotes
Footnotes
[11] I think it only fair to mention the names of professional mediums, if I find them at all genuine. I do not guarantee their efficiency, for mediumship is not a power that can always be depended on,—it is liable to vary; sitters also may be incompetent, and conditions may be bad. The circumstances under which sensitives work are difficult at the present time and ought to be improved.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I think it’s fair to name professional mediums if I find them truly authentic. I can’t assure you of their effectiveness, since mediumship isn’t always a dependable ability—it can vary; the sitters might also lack the required skills, and the situation may not be right. The conditions under which mediums work today are tough and need improvement.
CHAPTER 6
FIRST MEETING OF O. J. L. WITH MRS. LEONARD
ON 27 September, as already stated in Chapter III, I myself visited Mrs. Leonard, going anonymously and alone, and giving no information beyond the fact that I was a friend of Mrs. Kennedy. I lay no stress, on my anonymity, however.
ON 27 September, as mentioned in Chapter III, I visited Mrs. Leonard by myself and without revealing my identity, stating only that I was a friend of Mrs. Kennedy. That said, I didn't place much importance on my anonymity.
In a short time Feda controlled, and at first described
an elderly gentleman as present. Then she said he brought
some one with the letter R; and as I took verbatim notes
I propose to reproduce this portion in full, so as to give
the general flavour of a 'Feda' sitting; only omitting
what has already been extracted and quoted in Chapter
III.
In a short time, Feda took control and initially described an elderly man who was there. Then she mentioned that he brought someone with the letter R. Since I took detailed notes, I plan to share this part in full to capture the essence of a 'Feda' session, only leaving out what's already been quoted in Chapter
III.
O. J. L. at Mrs. Leonard's, Monday, 27 September 1915, 12 noon to 1 o'clock
(Mrs. Leonard's control 'Feda' speaking all the time.)
(Mrs. Leonard's control 'Feda' speaking constantly.)
There is some one here with a little difficulty; not fully built up; youngish looking; form more like an outline; he has not completely learnt how to build up as yet. Is a young man, rather above the medium height; rather well-built, not thick-set or heavy, but well-built. He holds himself up well. He has not been over long. His hair is between colours. He is not easy to describe, because he is not building himself up so solid as some do. He has greyish eyes; hair brown, short at the sides; a fine-shaped head; eyebrows also brown, not much arched; nice-shaped nose, fairly straight, broader at the nostrils a little; a nice-shaped mouth, a good-sized mouth it is, but it does not look large because he holds the lips nicely together; chin not heavy; face oval. He is not built up quite clearly, [ 126] but it feels as if Feda knew him. He must have been here waiting for you. Now he looks at Feda and smiles; now he laughs, he is having a joke with Feda, and Paulie laughs too. Paul says he has been here before, and that Paul brought him. But Feda sees many hundreds of people, but they tell me this one has been brought quite lately. Yes, I have seen him before. Feda remembers a letter with him too. R, that is to do with him.
There’s someone here who seems a bit off; not fully developed yet; looks somewhat young; more like a rough sketch. He hasn’t quite figured out how to fully present himself. He’s a young man, slightly above average height; he’s fit, not stocky or heavy, just well-built. He stands tall. He hasn’t been here long. His hair is a mix of colors. It’s hard to describe him since he isn’t as solidly formed as some others. He has grayish eyes; his hair is brown, short on the sides; he has a nicely shaped head; his eyebrows are also brown and not very arched; a well-proportioned nose, fairly straight, a bit wider at the nostrils; a well-shaped mouth, a good size, but it doesn’t look big because he keeps his lips nicely closed; his chin isn’t heavy; his face is oval. He isn’t clearly defined, [ 126] but it feels like Feda recognizes him. He must have been here waiting for you. Now he looks at Feda and smiles; now he laughs, having a joke with Feda, and Paulie laughs too. Paul says he’s been here before, and that Paul brought him. But Feda sees many hundreds of people, yet they tell me this one has been brought in recently. Yes, I have seen him before. Feda remembers a letter that came with him too. R, that’s connected to him.
(Then Feda murmured, as if to herself, "Try and give me another letter.") (Pause.)
(Then Feda murmured, as if to herself, "Try and give me another letter.") (Pause.)
It is a funny name, not Robert or Richard. He is not giving the rest of it, but says R again; it is from him. He wants to know where his mother is; he is looking for her; he does not understand why she is not here.
It’s a strange name, not Robert or Richard. He isn’t sharing the rest of it, but he says R again; it comes from him. He wants to know where his mom is; he’s searching for her; he doesn’t understand why she’s not here.
O. J. L.—Tell him he will see her this afternoon, and that she is not here this morning, because she wants to meet him this afternoon at three o'clock.
O. J. L.—Let him know he’ll see her this afternoon, and that she isn’t here this morning because she wants to meet him at three o’clock.
[Meaning through another medium, namely Peters. But that, of course, was not said.]
[Meaning conveyed through another medium, specifically Peters. But that, of course, wasn't mentioned.]
He has been to see you before, and he says that once he thought you knew he was there, and that two or three times he was not quite sure. Feda gets it mostly by impression; it is not always what he says, but what she gets; but Feda says "he says," because she gets it from him somehow.[12] He finds it difficult, he says, but he has got so many kind friends helping him. He didn't think when he waked up first that he was going to be happy, but now he is, and he says he is going to be happier. He knows that as soon as he is a little more ready, he has got a great deal of work to do. "I almost wonder," he says, "shall I be fit and able to do it. They tell me I shall."
He has visited you before, and he mentioned that once he thought you realized he was there, and that two or three times he wasn't entirely sure. Feda mostly understands through intuition; it’s not always what he says, but what she picks up. Still, Feda says "he says," because she somehow gets it from him. [12] He finds it challenging, he says, but he has a lot of kind friends supporting him. He didn’t think when he first woke up that he would be happy, but now he is, and he believes he’s going to be even happier. He knows that as soon as he’s a bit more prepared, he has a lot of work to do. "I almost wonder," he says, "if I’ll be ready and able to do it. They tell me I will."
[And so on as reported in Chapter III.]
And so on as mentioned in __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
He seems to know what the work is. The first work he will have to do, will be helping at the Front; not the wounded so much, but helping those who are passing over in the war. He knows that when they pass on and wake up, they still feel a certain fear—and some other word which Feda missed. Feda hears a something and 'fear.' Some [ 127] even go on fighting; at least they want to; they don't believe they have passed on. So that many are wanted where he is now, to explain to them and help them, and soothe them. They do not know where they are, nor why they are there.
He seems to understand what the job is. The first task he’ll have to do is help at the Front; not so much with the wounded, but with those who are passing on in the war. He knows that when they transition and wake up, they still feel a certain fear—and another word that Feda missed. Feda hears something and 'fear.' Some [ 127] even continue to fight; at least they want to; they don’t believe they’ve passed on. So there are many needed where he is now, to explain things and help them, and to calm them down. They do not know where they are, or why they are there.
[I considered that this was ordinary 'Feda talk,' such as it is probably customary to get through mediums at this time; therefore, though the statements are likely enough, there is nothing new in them, and I thought it better to interrupt by asking a question. So I said:—]
[I assumed this was just typical 'Feda talk,' the sort of thing you probably hear from mediums today; so even if the claims might be true, there's nothing new about them. I decided it would be better to jump in and ask a question. So I said:—]
O. J. L.—Does he want to send a message to anyone at home? Or will he give the name of one of his instructors?
O. J. L.—Does he want to send a message to someone at home? Or is he going to talk about one of his teachers?
[I admit that it is stupid thus to ask two questions at once.]
I admit it's silly to ask two questions at once.
He shows me a capital H, and says that is not an instructor, it is some one he knows on the earth side. He wants them to be sure that he is all right and happy. He says, "People think I say I am happy in order to make them happier, but I don't".
He shows me a capital H and says that it’s not an instructor; it’s someone he knows from the earthly side. He wants them to know that he is okay and happy. He says, “People think I claim I’m happy to make them feel better, but I don’t.”
[And so on as already reported in Chapter III.]
[i>And so on as already mentioned in __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]
Now the first gentleman with the letter W is going over to him and putting his arm round his shoulder, and he is putting his arm round the gentleman's back. Feda feels like a string round her head; a tight feeling in the head, and also an empty sort of feeling in the chest, empty, as if sort of something gone. A feeling like a sort of vacant feeling there; also a bursting sensation in the head. But he does not know he is giving this. He has not done it on purpose, they have tried to make him forget all that, but Feda gets it from him. There is a noise with it too, an awful noise and a rushing noise.
Now the first guy with the letter W is walking over to him and putting his arm around his shoulder, and he is putting his arm around the guy's back. Feda feels like there's a tight band around her head; a constricting sensation in her head, and also an empty feeling in her chest, like something's missing. It’s a sort of vacant feeling there; also a bursting sensation in her head. But he doesn’t realize he’s causing this. He hasn’t done it on purpose; they’ve tried to make him forget all that, but Feda feels it from him. There’s a noise with it too, a terrible noise and a rushing sound.
He has lost all that now, but he does not seem to know why Feda feels it now. "I feel splendid," he says, "I feel splendid! But I was worried at first. I was worried, for I was wanting to make it clear to those left behind that I was all right, and that they were not to worry about me."
He has lost everything now, but he doesn't seem to understand why Feda feels this way now. "I feel great," he says, "I feel great! But I was worried at first. I was worried because I wanted to make it clear to those who are still here that I was okay and that they shouldn't worry about me."
You may think it strange, but he felt that you would not worry so much as some one else; two others, two ladies, Feda thinks. You would know, he says, but two ladies would worry and be uncertain; but now he believes they know more.
You might find it odd, but he believed you wouldn't worry as much as someone else; two other people, two women, Feda thinks. You would know, he says, but those two women would be anxious and unsure; but now he thinks they understand better.
Then, before Mrs. Leonard came out of trance, came the description of a falling dark cross which twisted round and became bright, as reported in Chapter III.
Then, before Mrs. Leonard came out of her trance, there was a description of a dark cross falling that twisted around and turned bright, as reported in Chapter III.
After the sitting, and before I went away, I asked Mrs. Leonard if she knew who I was. She replied, "Are you by chance connected with those two ladies who came on Saturday night?" On my assenting, Mrs. Leonard added, "Oh! then I know, because the French lady gave the name away; she said 'Lady Lodge' in the middle of a French sentence."
After the meeting, before I left, I asked Mrs. Leonard if she knew who I was. She replied, "Are you connected to those two ladies who came on Saturday night?" When I confirmed, Mrs. Leonard added, "Oh! Then I know, because the French lady let it slip; she said 'Lady Lodge' in the middle of a French sentence."
I also spoke to her about not having too many sittings and straining her power. She said she "preferred not to have more than two or three a day, though sometimes she could not avoid it; and some days she had to take a complete rest." But she admitted that she was going to have another one that day at two o'clock. I told her that three per day was rather much. She pleaded that there are so many people who want help now, that she declined all those who came for only commercial or fortune-telling motives, but that she felt bound to help those who are distressed by the war. I report this to show that she saw many people totally disconnected with Raymond or his family: so that what she might say to a new unknown member of the family could be quite evidential.
I also talked to her about not having too many sessions and pushing her limits. She mentioned that she "preferred not to have more than two or three a day, although sometimes she couldn't avoid it; and on some days, she needed to take a complete break." But she admitted that she was going to have another one that day at two o'clock. I told her that three a day seemed like a lot. She explained that there are so many people seeking help right now, and she turned down those who came for just commercial or fortune-telling reasons, but she felt obligated to help those who are suffering because of the war. I'm sharing this to show that she interacted with many people completely unrelated to Raymond or his family, so what she might say to a new, unknown member of the family could be very telling.
Footnotes
Footnotes
[12] Note this, as an elucidatory statement.
CHAPTER 7
FIRST PETERS SITTING (ANON)
MRS.KENNEDY desired Lady Lodge to try with a different and independent medium, and therefore kindly arranged with Mr. A. Vout Peters to come to her house on Monday afternoon and give a trance sitting to 'a friend of hers' not specified. Accordingly, at or about 3 p.m. on Monday, 27 September 1915, Lady Lodge went by herself to Mrs. Kennedy's house, so as not to have to give any name, and awaited the arrival of Peters, who, when he came, said he would prefer to sit in Mrs. Kennedy's own room in which he had sat before, and which he associated with her son Paul. No kind of introduction was made, and Peters was a total stranger to Lady Lodge; though to Mrs. Kennedy he was fairly well known, having several times given her first-rate evidence about her son, who had proved his identity in several striking ways.
MRS. KENNEDY wanted Lady Lodge to try a different and independent medium, so she kindly arranged for Mr. A. Vout Peters to come to her house on Monday afternoon and give a trance sitting to “a friend of hers” who wasn’t named. So, around 3 p.m. on Monday, September 27, 1915, Lady Lodge went to Mrs. Kennedy’s house by herself to avoid giving any names and waited for Peters to arrive. When he arrived, he said he would rather sit in Mrs. Kennedy’s own room, where he had been before and which he associated with her son Paul. No introduction was made, and Peters was a complete stranger to Lady Lodge; however, he was fairly well known to Mrs. Kennedy, having given her solid evidence about her son multiple times, proving his identity in several striking ways.
When Peters goes into a trance his personality is supposed to change to that of another man, who, we understand, is called 'Moonstone'; much as Mrs. Piper was controlled by apparent personalities calling themselves 'Phinuit' or 'Rector.' When Peters does not go into a trance he has some clairvoyant faculty of his own.
When Peters goes into a trance, his personality is said to shift into that of another man, who we learn is named 'Moonstone'; similar to how Mrs. Piper was influenced by personalities identifying themselves as 'Phinuit' or 'Rector.' When Peters isn't in a trance, he has some clairvoyant ability of his own.
The only other person present on this occasion was Mrs. Kennedy, who kindly took notes.
The only other person there was Mrs. Kennedy, who kindly took notes.
This is an important sitting, as it was held for a complete
stranger, so I propose to report it practically
in full.
This is an important meeting since it was held for a complete stranger, so I suggest reporting it almost in full.
M. F. A. L. Sitting with A. Vout Peters, in Mrs. Kennedy's
House, on 27 September 1915, at 3.30 p.m.
| Platform | A. Vout Peters. |
| Babysitter | Lady Lodge (M. F. A. L.). |
| Voice recorder | Ms. Katherine Kennedy (K. K.). |
The record consists of Mrs. Kennedy's notes. Annotations in square
brackets have been added subsequently by O. J. L.
The record includes Mrs. Kennedy's notes. Annotations in square
brackets have been added later by O. J. L.
While only partially under control, Peters said: "I feel a lot of force here, Mrs. Kennedy."
While only partially under control, Peters said: "I feel a lot of pressure here, Mrs. Kennedy."
Peters was controlled quickly by 'Moonstone,' who greeted K. K. and reminded her of a prophecy of his. (This prophecy related to the Russian place Dvinsk, and to the important actions likely to be going on there—as if the decisive battle of the war was to be fought there.) Then he turned to L. L. and said:—
Peters was quickly handled by 'Moonstone,' who welcomed K. K. and reminded her of a prophecy he had. (This prophecy was about the Russian town Dvinsk and the significant events that were expected to happen there—as if the crucial battle of the war was going to take place there.) Then he turned to L. L. and said:—
What a useful life you have led, and will lead.
What a valuable life you've lived and will continue to live.
You have always been the prop of things.
You have always been the support for everything.
You have always been associated with men a lot.
You’ve always been around a lot of guys.
You are the mother and house prop.
You are the mother and the one who keeps the home running.
You are not unacquainted with spiritualism.
You're familiar with spiritualism.
You have been associated with it more or less for some time.
You’ve been connected to it for quite a while now.
I sense you as living away from London—in the North or North-West.
I feel like you live outside of London—in the North or North-West.
You are much associated with men, and you are the house prop—the mother. You have no word in the language that quite gives it—there are always four walls, but something more is needed—you are the house prop.
You’re closely tied to men, and you are the backbone of the home—the mother. There’s no single word in our language that captures this—there are always four walls, but something more is needed—you are the backbone of the home.
You have had a tremendous lot of sadness recently, from a death that has come suddenly.
You’ve experienced a lot of sadness lately, due to a sudden death.
You never thought it was to be like this. (Peters went on talking glibly, and there was no need for the sitter to say anything.)
You never thought it would turn out this way. (Peters kept talking easily, and the sitter didn’t need to say anything.)
There is a gentleman here who is on the other side—he went very suddenly. Fairly tall, rather broad, upright (here the medium sat up very straight and squared his shoulders)—rather long face, fairly long nose, lips full, moustache, nice teeth, quick and active, strong sense of humour—he could always laugh, keen sense of affection.
There’s a guy here from the other side—he passed away pretty suddenly. He’s tall, a bit broad, and stands up straight (the medium straightened up and squared his shoulders)—he has a long face, a fairly long nose, full lips, a mustache, nice teeth, and he’s quick and active with a strong sense of humor—he could always laugh and has a keen sense of affection.
He went over into the spirit world very quickly. There is no idea of death because it was so sudden, with no illness.
He passed into the spirit world very quickly. There's no notion of death because it happened so suddenly, without any illness.
Do you know anything connected with the letter L? (No answer was given to this.)
Do you know anything related to the letter L? (No answer was given to this.)
What I am going to say now is from Paul—he says: "Tell mother it is not one L, it is double L." He says: "Tell mother she always loved a riddle"—he laughs. (L. L. and K. K. both said they could not understand.[13] 'Moonstone' continued:—)
What I'm about to say comes from Paul—he says: "Tell mom it's not one L, it's double L." He adds: "Tell mom she always loved a riddle"—he laughs. (L. L. and K. K. both said they couldn't understand.[13] 'Moonstone' continued:—)
They don't want to make it too easy for you, and funnily enough, the easier it seems to you sometimes the more difficult it seems to them.
They don't want to make it too easy for you, and oddly enough, the easier it seems to you at times, the harder it seems to them.
This man is a soldier—an officer. He went over where it is warm.
This guy is a soldier—an officer. He went to where it's warm.
You are his mother, aren't you—and he does not call you ma, or mamma, or mater—just mother, mother. [True.]
You’re his mom, right? And he doesn’t call you ma, or mommy, or mother—just mother, mother. [True.]
He is reticent and yet he told you a tremendous lot.
He is reserved, yet he shared quite a bit.
You were not only his mother but his friend.
You were not just his mother but also his friend.
Wasn't he clever with books? He laughs and says: "Anyhow I ought to be, I was brought up with them." He was not altogether a booky person.
Wasn't he smart with books? He laughs and says: "Anyway, I should be; I was raised with them." He wasn't really a bookish person.
He knew of spiritualism before he passed over, but he was a little bit sceptical—he had an attitude of carefulness about it. He tells me to tell you this:
He knew about spiritualism before he passed away, but he was a bit skeptical—he approached it with caution. He tells me to tell you this:
The attitude of Mr. Stead and some of those people turned him aside; on one side there was too much credulity—on the other side too much piffling at trifles.
The attitude of Mr. Stead and some of those people pushed him away; on one side there was too much gullibility—on the other side too much fuss over small things.
[See also Appendix to this sitting.]
[Refer to the appendix for this session.]
He holds up in his hand a little heap of olives, as a symbol for you—then he laughs. Now he says—for a test—Associated with the olives is the word Roland.[14] All of this is to give you proof that he is here.
He holds a small pile of olives in his hand as a symbol for you—then he laughs. Now he says—for a test—Associated with the olives is the word Roland.[14] All of this is to prove that he is here.
Before you came you were very down in the dumps.
Before you arrived, you were feeling really low.
Was he ill three weeks after he was hurt? [More like three hours, probably less.]
Was he sick three weeks after he got hurt? [More like three hours, probably less.]
(Various other guesses were made for the meaning of 3.)
Different interpretations were proposed for the meaning of 3.
I see the figure 3 so plainly—can't you find a meaning for it?
I see the number 3 so clearly—can't you find a meaning for it?
(L. L. suggested 3rd Battalion, and 'Moonstone' continued:—)
(L. L. suggested the 3rd Battalion, and 'Moonstone' went on:—)
He says "Yes"—and wasn't he officially put down on another one? [Perfectly true, he was attached to the 2nd Battalion at the Front, to the 3rd or reserve Battalion while training.][15]
He says "Yes"—and wasn't he officially listed on another one? [That's true, he was assigned to the 2nd Battalion at the Front, and to the 3rd or reserve Battalion while training.][15]
He says: "Don't forget to tell father all this."
He says, "Don't forget to tell Dad all this."
His home is associated with books—both reading and writing books. Wait a minute, he wants to give me a word, he is a little impatient with me. Manuscripts, he says, manuscripts—that's the word.
His home is filled with books—both for reading and writing. Hold on, he wants to tell me something; he's a bit impatient with me. Manuscripts, he says, manuscripts—that's the word.
He sends a message, and he says—this is more for father—"It is no good his attempting to come to the medium here, he will simply frighten the medium for all he is worth, and he will not get anything. But he is not afraid of you, and if there is communication wanted with this man again, you must come."
He sends a message, and he says—this is more for father—"There's no point in him trying to come to the medium here; he'll just scare the medium for all he's worth, and he won't get anything. But he isn't afraid of you, and if there’s going to be communication with this man again, you need to come."
You have several portraits of this boy. Before he went away you had got a good portrait of him—2—no, 3. [Fully as many as that.]
You have several pictures of this boy. Before he left, you had a nice portrait of him—2—no, 3. [Definitely that many.]
Two where he is alone and one where he is in a group of other men. [This last is not yet verified.][16]
Two where he is alone and one where he is with a group of other men. [This last is not yet verified.][16]
He is particular that I should tell you of this. In one you see his walking-stick ('Moonstone' here put an imaginary stick under his arm). [Not known yet]
He specifically wants me to tell you about this. In one, you can see his walking stick ('Moonstone' here imagines a stick under his arm). [Not known yet]
He had particularly strong hands.
He had really strong hands.
When he was younger, he was very strongly associated with football and outdoor sports. You have in your house prizes that he won, I can't tell you what. [Incorrect; possibly some confusion in record here; or else wrong.]
When he was younger, he was really into football and outdoor sports. You have trophies in your house that he won; I can't remember what they are. [Incorrect; possibly some confusion in record here; or else wrong.]
Why should I get two words—'Small' and 'Heath,'
Why should I get two words—'Small' and 'Heath,'
[Small Heath is a place near Birmingham with which he had some but not close associations.]
Small Heath is a neighborhood near Birmingham that he had some connections to, but they weren't strong.
Also I see, but very dimly as in a mist, the letters B I R. [Probably Birmingham.]
Also I see, but very faintly like through a fog, the letters B I R. [Probably Birmingham.]
You heard of either his death or of his being hurt by telegram.
You heard about either his death or that he was injured by telegram.
He didn't die at once. He had three wounds.
He didn't die right away. He had three injuries.
I don't think you have got details yet. [No, not fully.]
I don't think you have the details yet. [No, not completely.]
If he had lived he would have made a name for himself in his own particular line.
If he had lived, he would have made a name for himself in his own field.
Was he not associated with chemistry? If not, some one associated with him was, because I see all the things in a chemical laboratory.
Was he not connected to chemistry? If he wasn't, someone close to him was, because I see all the items in a chemistry lab.
[The next portion has already been reported in Chapter III, but I do not omit it from its context here.]
[The next part has already been shared in __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, but I won't remove it from its context here.]
That chemistry thing takes me away from him to a man in the flesh.
That chemistry thing pulls me away from him to a real man.
And connected with him a man, a writer of poetry, on our side, closely connected with spiritualism.
And he was joined by a man, a poet, on our side, who was closely linked to spiritualism.
He was very clever—he too passed away out of England.
He was very clever—he also passed away outside of England.
He has communicated several times.
He has reached out multiple times.
This gentleman who wrote poetry—I see the letter M—he is helping your son to communicate.
This man who writes poetry—I notice the letter M—he's helping your son to express himself.
He is built up in the chemical conditions.
He is formed by the chemical conditions.
If your son didn't know this man, he knew of him.
If your son didn't know this guy, he had heard of him.
At the back of the gentleman beginning with M and who wrote poetry is a whole group of people.
At the back of the man whose name starts with M and who wrote poetry, there's a whole crowd of people.
They are very interested. And don't be surprised if you get messages from them, even if you don't know them.
They are really interested. And don’t be shocked if you get messages from them, even if you don't know who they are.
This is so important that is going to be said now, that I want to go slowly, for you to write clearly every word (dictates carefully).
This is so important that I'm about to say, that I want to take it slowly so you can clearly write down every word (dictates carefully).
"Not only is the partition so thin that you can hear the operators on the other side, but a big hole has been made."
"Not only is the wall so thin that you can hear the workers on the other side, but there's a big hole that has been created."
This message is for the gentleman associated with the chemical laboratory.
This message is for the guy connected with the chemical lab.
The boy—I call them all boys, because I was over a hundred when I lived here and they are all boys to me—he says, he is here, but he says: "Hitherto it has been a thing of the head, now I am come over it is a thing of the heart. What is more (here Peters jumped up in his chair vigorously, snapped his fingers excitedly, and spoke loudly):
The boy—I call them all boys since I was over a hundred when I lived here and they all seem like boys to me—he says he is here, but he adds, "Up until now, it’s been something I thought about, but now that I’m here, it’s something I feel. What’s more (this is when Peters jumped up in his chair energetically, snapped his fingers with excitement, and spoke loudly):
"Good God! how father will be able to speak out! much firmer than he has ever done, because it will touch our hearts."
"Good God! How Dad will be able to speak up! Much stronger than he ever has, because it will touch our hearts."
M. F. A. L.—Does he want his father to speak out?
M.F.A.L.—Does he want his dad to speak up?
Yes, but not yet—wait, the evidence will be given in such a way that it cannot be contradicted, and his name is big enough to sweep all stupid opposition on one side.
Yes, but not yet—wait, the evidence will be presented in a way that can't be disputed, and his name is strong enough to dismiss any foolish opposition.
I was not conscious of much suffering, and I am glad that I settled my affairs before I went.
I wasn't aware of much suffering, and I'm glad I took care of my affairs before I left.
[He did; he made a will just before leaving England, and left things in good order. He also cleared up things when he joined the Army.]
He did; he made a will just before leaving England and organized everything properly. He also took care of things when he joined the Army.
Have you a sister of his with you, and one on our side? A little child almost, so little that you never associated her with him.
Do you have a sister of his with you, and one on our side? A little child, so small that you wouldn't have linked her to him.
There are two sisters, one on each side of him, one in the dark and one in the light.
There are two sisters, one on each side of him, one in the shadows and one in the light.
[Raymond was the only boy sandwiched in between two sisters; Violet older than he, and still living (presumably in the dark), and Laura[17] younger than he, died a few minutes after birth (in the light). Raymond was the youngest boy, and had thus a sister on either side of him.]
Your girl is standing on one side, Paul on the other, and your boy in the centre. (Here 'Moonstone' put his arm round K. K.'s shoulder to show how the boy was standing.) Now he stoops over you and kisses you there (indicating the brow).
Your girl is standing on one side, Paul on the other, and your boy in the center. (Here 'Moonstone' put his arm around K. K.'s shoulder to show how the boy was standing.) Now he leans down and kisses you there (indicating the forehead).
Before he went away he came home for a little while. Didn't he come for three days?
Before he left, he came home for a bit. Didn’t he come for three days?
(There is a little unimportant confusion in the record about 'days.')
There's a slight mix-up in the record regarding 'days.'
Then, with evident intention of trying to give a 'test,' some trivial but characteristic features were mentioned about the interior of three houses—the one we are in now, the one we had last occupied at Liverpool, and the one he called 'Mother's home.' But there is again some confusion in the record, partly because M. F. A. L. didn't understand what he was driving at, partly because the recorder found it difficult to follow; and though the confusion was subsequently disentangled through another medium next day, 28 September, it is hardly worth while to give as much explanation as would be needed to make the points clear. So this part is omitted. (See p. 145).
Then, clearly trying to give a 'test,' some trivial but characteristic details were brought up about the interiors of three houses—the one we're in now, the one we had just lived in at Liverpool, and the one he referred to as 'Mother's home.' However, there's some confusion in the record, partly because M. F. A. L. didn’t understand what he was getting at, and partly because the person recording found it hard to follow. Even though the confusion was cleared up through another medium the next day, 28 September, it’s probably unnecessary to provide as much explanation as would be required to clarify the points. So this part is omitted. (See p. 145.)
And he wanted me to tell you of a kiss on the forehead.
And he wanted me to tell you about a kiss on the forehead.
M. F. A. L.—He did not kiss me on the forehead when he said good-bye.
M. F. A. L.—He didn’t kiss me on the forehead when he said goodbye.
Well he is taller than you, isn't he?
Well, he’s taller than you, isn’t he?
(Yes.)
(Yes.)
Not very demonstrative before strangers. But when alone with you, like a little boy again.
Not very expressive around strangers. But when we're alone, it's like he's a little boy again.
M. F. A. L.—I don't think he was undemonstrative before strangers.
M.F.A.L.—I don't think he was reserved around strangers.
Oh yes, all you English are like that. You lock up your affection, and you sometimes lose the key.
Oh yes, all you English are like that. You shut away your feelings, and sometimes you lose the key.
[Excellent. By recent marriages the family has gained a Rowland (son-in-law) and lost (so to speak) an Oliver (son).]
Great. Recently, through marriages, the family has gained a Rowland (son-in-law) and lost (in a way) an Oliver (son).
He is going. He gives his love to all.
He’s leaving. He spreads his love to everyone.
It has been easy for him to come for two reasons: First, because you came to get help for Madame.[18] Secondly, because he had the knowledge in this life.
It has been easy for him to come for two reasons: First, because you came to get help for Madame.[18] Secondly, because he had the knowledge in this life.
M. F. A. L.— I hope it has been a pleasure to him to come?
MFA L.— I hope it was enjoyable for him to come?
Not a pleasure, a joy.
Not just a pleasure, a joy.
M. F. A. L.—I hope he will come to me again.
MFA —I hope he reaches out to me again.
As much as he can.
As much as possible.
Paul now wants to speak to his mother.
Paul wants to talk to his mom now.
Appendix to First Peters Sitting
NOTE ON RAYMOND'S OLD ATTITUDE TO
PSYCHO-PHYSICAL PHENOMENA
Mrs. Rowland Waterhouse has recently found among her papers an old letter from Bedales School which she received from her brother Raymond when she was in Paris during the winter 1905-1906. The concluding part of it is of some small interest in the light of later developments:—
Mrs. Rowland Waterhouse recently discovered an old letter from Bedales School among her papers. She received it from her brother Raymond while she was in Paris during the winter of 1905-1906. The final part of it is somewhat interesting considering what happened later:—
"I should like to hear more about table turning. I don't believe in it. The girls here say they have done it at Steephurst, and they attribute it to some sense of which we know nothing, and which I want to turn to some account, driving a dynamo or something, if it is possible, as they make out, to cause a table to revolve without any exertion.—I am your affectionate brother,
"I would love to hear more about table turning. I really don't believe in it. The girls here say they've done it at Steephurst, and they credit it to some sense that we don't understand, which I want to make useful, like maybe powering a dynamo or something, if it’s really possible to make a table spin without any effort." —I am your affectionate brother,
"Raymond."
"Raymond."
Footnotes
Footnotes
[13] Though K. K.'s record, being made at the time, reads L. L. (meaning Lady Lodge) throughout. When she speaks, later on, I change the L. L. of the record to her proper initials to avoid confusion.—O. J. L.
[15] Let it be understood, once for all, that remarks in square brackets represent nothing said at the time, but are comments afterwards by me when I read the record.—O. J. L.
[16] The photograph episode is described above, in Chapter IV, in the light of later information.
[17] Now apparently called Lily: see later.
[18] This is curious, because it was with Mrs. Leonard that Madame had sat, not with Peters at all. It is a simple cross-correspondence.
CHAPTER 8
A table positioned
ON 28 September my wife and I together had a table sitting with Mrs. Leonard, which may be reported nearly in full together with my preliminary note written immediately afterwards. This is done not because it is a particularly good specimen, but because these early sittings have an importance of their own, and because it may be instructive to others to see the general manner of a table sitting. It was, I think, the first joint-sitting of any kind which we had had since the old Piper days.
ON 28 September, my wife and I had a table sitting with Mrs. Leonard, which I’m sharing almost in full along with my initial note written right after. I’m doing this not because it’s a particularly great example, but because these early sittings are significant in their own way, and it might be helpful for others to understand how a typical table sitting goes. I believe this was the first joint sitting of any kind we’ve had since the old Piper days.
Note by O. J. L. on Table Tiltings
A table sitting is not good for conversation, but it is useful for getting definite brief answers—such as names and incidents, since it seems to be less interfered with by the mental activity of an intervening medium, and to be rather more direct. But it has difficulties of its own. The tilting of the table need not be regarded as a 'physical phenomenon' in the technical or supernormal sense, yet it does not appear to be done by the muscles of those present. The effort required to tilt the table is slight, and evidentially it must, no doubt, be assumed that so far as mechanical force is concerned, it is exerted by muscular action. But my impression is that the tilting is an incipient physical phenomenon, and that though the energy, of course, comes from the people present, it does not appear to be applied in quite a normal way (XIV, Pt. III).
Sitting at a table isn’t great for conversation, but it does help in getting clear, short answers—like names and events—since it seems less affected by the mental activity of a medium and feels more direct. However, it comes with its own challenges. The tilting of the table shouldn’t be considered a 'physical phenomenon' in any technical or supernatural way, yet it doesn’t seem to be caused by the muscles of those present. The effort needed to tilt the table is minimal, and it’s reasonable to assume that, in terms of mechanical force, it’s driven by muscular action. But I feel that the tilting is a sort of beginning physical phenomenon, and although the energy definitely comes from the people there, it doesn’t seem to be applied in a completely normal way. (XIV, Pt. III).
As regards evidence, however, the issue must be limited to intelligent direction of the energy. All that can safely be claimed is that the energy is intelligently directed, and [ 138] the self-stoppage of the table at the right letter conveys by touch a sort of withholding feeling—a kind of sensation as of inhibition—to those whose hands lie flat on the top of the table. The light was always quite sufficient to see all the hands, and it works quite well in full daylight. The usual method is for the alphabet to be called over, and for the table to tilt or thump at each letter, till it stops at the right one. The table tilts three times to indicate "yes," and once to indicate "no"; but as one tilt also represents the letter A of the alphabet, an error of interpretation is occasionally made by the sitters. So also C might perhaps be mistaken for "yes," or vice versa; but that mistake is not so likely.
As for the evidence, the focus should be on the intelligent direction of the energy. All we can confidently say is that the energy is guided intelligently, and [ 138] when the table stops at the correct letter, it gives a sort of withholding sensation—a feeling of restraint—to those whose hands are laid flat on the table. The lighting is always bright enough to see everyone's hands, and it works well even in full daylight. Typically, the alphabet is called out, and the table tilts or knocks for each letter until it stops at the right one. The table tilts three times to signify "yes," and once to signify "no"; however, since one tilt also represents the letter A, sitters occasionally misinterpret this. Similarly, C might be confused with "yes," or vice versa; but that mistake is less likely.
Unconscious guidance can hardly be excluded, i.e. cannot be excluded with any certainty when the answer is of a kind expected. But first, our desire was rather in the direction of avoiding such control; and second, the stoppages were sometimes at unexpected places; and third, a long succession of letters soon becomes meaningless, except to the recorder who is writing them down silently, as they are called out to him seriatim, in another part of the room.
Unconscious guidance can hardly be excluded, i.e. it can't be ruled out with any certainty when the response is expected. But first, we were more interested in avoiding that kind of control; second, the interruptions often happened at unexpected times; and third, a long series of letters quickly loses meaning, except for the person recording them silently as they're called out to him seriatim, from another part of the room.
It will also be observed that at a table sitting it is natural for the sitters to do most of the talking, and that their object is to get definite and not verbose replies.
It’s also noticeable that when sitting at a table, it’s natural for the people there to do most of the talking, and their goal is to get clear and concise answers, not long-winded ones.
On this occasion the control of the table seemed to improve as the sitting went on, owing presumably to increased practice on the part of the communicator, until towards the end, when there seemed to be some signs of weariness or incipient exhaustion; and, since the sitting lasted an hour and a half, tiredness is in no way surprising.
On this occasion, the control of the table seemed to get better as the session progressed, likely due to more practice from the communicator. However, toward the end, there were signs of fatigue or early exhaustion. Given that the session lasted an hour and a half, feeling tired is completely understandable.
No further attempt was made to keep our identity from Mrs. Leonard: our name had been given away, as reported near the end of Chapter VI.
No more effort was made to hide our identity from Mrs. Leonard: our name had been revealed, as mentioned near the end of Chapter VI.
Table Sitting with Mrs. Leonard, Tuesday, 28 September
1915, at 5.30 p.m.
Present—O. J. L., M. F. A. L., K. K., with Dr. Kennedy at another Table As Recorder
Present—O. J. L., M. F. A. L., K. K., with Dr. Kennedy at another table serving as the recorder.
A small partly wicker table with a square top was used, about 18 inches square. O. J. L. and M. F. A. L. sat opposite to each [ 139] other; K. K. and Mrs. Leonard occupied the other positions, Mrs. Leonard to the right of O. J. L. After four minutes' interval, the table began to tilt.
A small table with a square top, partly made of wicker, was used, about 18 inches square. O. J. L. and M. F. A. L. sat across from each other; K. K. and Mrs. Leonard took the other spots, with Mrs. Leonard on the right of O. J. L. After a four-minute wait, the table started to tilt.
Medium.—Will you tilt three times to show you understand?
Medium.—Will you nod three times to show you understand?
(It did.)
(It did.)
Medium.—Will you like to give your name?
Medium.—Would you like to share your name?
(It gave three tilts indicating Yes.)
(It tilted three times to say Yes.)
Medium.—Very well, then, the alphabet. Spell it, please.
Medium.—Alright, then, the alphabet. Can you spell it out, please?
(Mrs. Leonard here repeated the alphabet fairly quickly, while the table tilted slightly at each letter as it was said,
Mrs. Leonard quickly went through the alphabet, and the table tilted slightly with each letter she said,
stopping first at the letter P
then at the letter A
then U
then L.
starting with the letter P
then at the A letter
then you
then L.
O. J. L.—Yes, very well, Paul; we know who you are, and you know who we are, and we know that you have brought Raymond, and have come to help.
O. J. L.—Yes, that's correct, Paul; we know who you are, you know who we are, and we understand that you brought Raymond and came to offer your assistance.
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—We that are here know about this, and you have given us evidence already, but I am here to get evidence for the family.
O. J. L.—We who are here know this, and you've already provided some proof, but I’m here to collect evidence for the family.
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Would you like to say something first, before I ask a question?
O. J. L.—Would you like to say something before I ask a question?
(Silence.)
(Silence.)
Then the table moved and shook a little, indicating that it wanted the alphabet; and when the medium recited the letters, it spelt out in the same manner as before, i.e. by stopping at the one desired by whatever intelligence was controlling the table:—
Then the table shifted and shook a little, indicating that it wanted the alphabet; and when the medium went through the letters, it spelled out in the same manner as before, i.e. by stopping at the one selected by whatever intelligence was directing the table:—
RAYMOND WANTS TO COME HIMSELF.
RAYMOND WANTS TO COME HIMSELF.
Here M. L. ejaculated: "Dear Raymond," and sighed unconsciously.
Here M. L. exclaimed, "Dear Raymond," and sighed without realizing it.
The table spelt—it being understood that Raymond had now taken control:—
The table spelled it out—everyone understood that Raymond was now in charge:—
DO NOT SIGH.
DON'T SIGH.
M. F. A. L.—Was I sighing?
M. F. A. L.—Was I really sighing?
O. J. L.—Yes, but you must not be so distressed; he doesn't like it. He is there all right, and I am glad to have some one on the other side.
O. J. L.—Yeah, but you shouldn't be so upset; he doesn't want that. He's definitely there, and I'm glad to have someone on the other side.
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Raymond, your mother is much happier now.
O. J. L.—Raymond, your mom is much happier now.
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Now then, shall I ask you questions?
O. J. L.—So, should I ask you some questions now?
Yes.
Yeah.
O. J. L.—Well now, wait a minute and take your time, and I will ask the first question:—
O. J. L.—Okay, hold on a second and take your time. I'll ask the first question:—
"What did the boys call you?"
"What did the guys say to you?"
The medium now again repeated the alphabet, the table tilting to each letter as before,
The medium repeated the alphabet again, with the table tilting to each letter like before,
first stopping at P
then at A
then at P again;
it then shook as if something was wrong.
first stopping at P
then at A
then at P again;
then it shook as if something was wrong.
O. J. L.—Very well, try again, begin once more.
O. J. L.—Alright, give it another shot, start over again.
Again it spelt Pap, but again indicated dissent, and tried again: at the third trial it appeared to spell
It spelled Pap again, but once more it indicated disagreement and tried again: on the third attempt it appeared to spell
Pas.
Pas.
M. F. A. L.—Raymond dear, you have given two letters right, try and give the third.
M. F. A. L.—Raymond, my dear, you've gotten two letters right, now try to get the third one.
It now stopped at T; making Pat.
It just stopped at T; making Pat.
M. F. A. L.—Yes, that is right.
M. F. A. L.—Yeah, that's correct.
[This was, of course, well in our knowledge and therefore not strictly evidential, but it would not be in the knowledge of the medium.] (Cf. p. 148.)
[We obviously knew this, so it wasn't conclusive evidence, but the medium wouldn't have known it.] (Cf. p. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.)
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Well, now, you have done that, shall I ask another?
O. J. L.—Well, since you've done that, should I ask another one?
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Will you give the name of a brother?
O. J. L.—Will you provide the name of a brother?
The alphabet was repeated as usual by the medium, in a monotonous manner, the table tilting as before
The medium recited the alphabet as usual, in a monotonous manner, with the table leaning just like before.
and stopping first at N
then at O
then going past E, it stopped at R
and the next time at M
then, by a single tilt, it indicated A or else "No."
and first stopping at N
then at O
Then, after going past E, it stopped at R.
and the next time at M
Then, with a slight tilt, it indicated A or "No."
O. J. L., thinking that the letters R and M were wrong, because the (to him) meaningless name Norman was evidently being given, took it as "No," and said:—
O. J. L., thinking that the letters R and M were wrong because the name Norman didn't make sense to him, interpreted it as "No," and said:—
O. J. L.—You are confused now, better begin again.
O. J. L.—You're confused right now; it's better to start over.
The name accordingly was begun again, and this time it spelt
So the name was reset, and this time it was spelled
NOEL.
NOEL.
O. J. L.—That is right. [But see appended Note, p. 147.]
O. J. L.—That's correct. [But see appended Note, p. 147.]
A slight pause took place here; the table then indicated that it wanted the alphabet again, and spelt out an apparently single meaningless word which Dr. Kennedy, as he wrote the letters down, perceived to be
There was a short pause here; then the table seemed to request the alphabet again and spelled out what looked like a single meaningless word that Dr. Kennedy observed as he wrote the letters down.
FIRE AWAY.
GO FOR IT.
O. J. L.—Oh! You want another question! Would you like to say the name of an officer?
O. J. L.—Oh! You want another question! Would you like to provide the name of an officer?
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Very well then, spell it.
O. J. L.—Alright then, go ahead and spell it.
Table spelt:—
Table spelled:—
MIP,
then indicated error.
MIP,
then showed error.
O. J. L.—Not P?
O. J. L.—Not P?
No.
No.
O. J. L.—Well, begin again.
O. J. L.—Alright, let's start over.
MITCHELL.
MITCHELL.
O. J. L.—Then the officer's name is Mitchell?
O. J. L.—So the officer's name is Mitchell?
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Was he a captain?
O. J. L.—Was he a captain?
(Silence.)
(Silence.)
O. J. L.—Was he a lieutenant?
O. J. L.—Was he a lieutenant?
(Silence.)
(Silence.)
O. J. L.—Was he a second lieutenant perhaps?
O. J. L.—Was he maybe a second lieutenant?
(Apparent assent, but nothing forcible.)
(Apparent agreement, but nothing forceful.)
O. J. L.—I am now going to give a name away on purpose; I am going to ask—Do you remember Case?
O. J. L.—I’m about to reveal a name on purpose; I want to ask—Do you remember Case?
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Would you like to say anything about him?
O. J. L.—Do you have anything to say about him?
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Very well then, let us have the alphabet.
O. J. L.—Alright then, let's go through the alphabet.
Table spelt:—
Table spelled:—
HE IS A GOING A LLONG ALL RRIGHT.
HE'S DOING GREAT.
[Erasures signify errors which were made either by the communicator or the interpreter, and are in accordance with the record. The method was that each letter, as understood, was called out, usually by me, to the recorder. When a wrong letter was indicated, or when there was obviously a duplication, it was scratched out as above.]
[Erasures show mistakes made by either the communicator or the interpreter, and they match the record. The process involved calling out each letter as understood, usually by me, to the recorder. When a wrong letter was identified, or when there was clearly a repetition, it was crossed out as mentioned above.]
(After a short silence the spelling began again, it being easy for the table to indicate to the medium, by shaking or fidgeting, that she is wanted to repeat the alphabet.)
After a short pause, the spelling resumed because it was easy for the table to signal to the medium, by shaking or moving around restlessly, that she needed to go through the alphabet again.
HE IS HERE.
HE'S HERE.
O. J. L.—What, on your side?
O. J. L.—What about you?
[Thinking it referred to Lieutenant Case.]
[Thinking it was concerning Lieutenant Case.]
A loud "No."
A loud "No."
HE IS HERE SPEAK.
HE IS HERE. SPEAK.
K. K. (interpreting for us).—It only means Raymond is here and waiting.
K. K. (interpreting for us).—It just means Raymond is here and waiting.
O. J. L.—Under what circumstances did you see him last?
O. J. L.—In what situation did you last see him?
(The answer was apparently a faint "Yes.")
(The answer was apparently a faint "Yes.")
O. J. L.—Have you any special message, or did you give Case a special message?
O. J. L.—Do you have any specific message, or did you give Case a specific message?
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—What was it?
O. J. L.—What was that?
SO IM NOT SO IM WUO
SO I'M NOT SO I'M WUO
(Here some confusion was indicated; and M. F. A. L. said, "Try and spell the name"—meaning for whom the message was, if it was a message that was intended, which was very doubtful.
There was some confusion here, and M. F. A. L. said, "Try to spell the name"—referring to who the message was intended for, if it was actually meant for someone, which was very questionable.
It seemed to me that he was trying to say, or remember, what he had said to Lieutenant Case, who saw him after he had been struck; and that what he thought he had said was "So I'm wounded"; but I thought it unadvisable to continue on this tack, and rather regretted that I had begun it, since it was liable to put him back into a period of reminiscence which his friends would prefer that he did not dwell upon. Moreover, these last few questions did not seem particularly to interest him, and the responses were comparatively weak. Accordingly, I decided to switch him on to a topic that would be more likely to interest him.)
It looked like he was trying to remember what he had told Lieutenant Case after he got hit; he thought he had said, "So I'm wounded." Still, I thought it was better not to keep going down that path and actually regretted bringing it up because it might lead him back to memories his friends would prefer he avoid. Plus, he didn't seem very interested in the last few questions, and his answers were pretty sparse. So, I chose to switch the topic to something that would probably grab his attention more.
O. J. L.—Would you like your mother to go and see a friend of yours?
O. J. L.—Would you want your mom to go see one of your friends?
(Some names of friends of his were now correctly given, but as we knew them I need not reproduce this part.)
(Some of his friends' names were now accurately mentioned, but since we knew them, I don't need to include this part.)
O. J. L.—I say, Raymond, would you like a Ford? [motor].
O. J. L.—I say, Raymond, would you like a Ford? [motor].
(After a moment's apparent surprise:—)
(After a moment of surprise:)
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Aren't you tired now?
O. J. L.—Aren't you tired yet?
Loud "No."
Loud "No."
M. F. A. L.—Raymond, I don't know Mitchell.
M. F. A. L.—Raymond, I don't know Mitchell.
No.
No.
O. J. L.—Well, that will be better evidence.
O. J. L.—Well, that will be stronger evidence.
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Is that why you chose it?
O. J. L.—Is that the reason you picked it?
Yes.
Yes.
AER
AER
Medium (sotto voce).—No, that can't be right.
Medium (quietly).—No, that’s not right.
O. J. L. (ditto).—I don't know; it may be. Go on.
O. J. L. (ditto).—I’m not sure; it might be. Go ahead.
OPLANE.
OPLANE.
O. J. L.—You mean that Mitchell is an aeroplane officer?
O. J. L.—Are you saying that Mitchell is a pilot?
"Yes" (very loud).
"Yes!" (very loud).
M. F. A. L. (misunderstanding, and thinking that he had said that he would like an aeroplane in preference to a Ford).—Still at your jokes, Raymond!
M. F. A. L. (misunderstanding and thinking he said he wanted an airplane instead of a Ford).—You're still making jokes, Raymond!
Yes.
Yes.
(Then again the table indicated, by slight rocking, that the alphabet was wanted; and it spelt:—)
(Then again, the table signaled, by a slight rocking, that the alphabet was needed; and it spelled:—)
RAYMOND IS BEATING U.
RAYMOND IS WINNING.
(The sitters here made a little explanatory comment to each other on what they understood this unimportant sentence to mean; after which O. J. L. appears to have said:—)
(The people here made some brief remarks to each other about what they thought this trivial sentence meant; after that, O. J. L. appeared to say:—)
O. J. L.—I don't like bothering you.
O. J. L.—I don't want to bother you.
Table moved, indicating that it was no trouble.
The table was moved, indicating that it wasn't a problem.
M. F. A. L.—Raymond, can you see us?
M. F. A. L.—Raymond, can you see us?
Yes.
Yes.
M. F. A. L.—Can you see that I have been writing to you? [See Part I, p. 10.]
M. F. A. L.—Can you tell that I've been writing to you? [See Part I, p. 10.]
Yes.
Yes.
M. F. A. L.—Can you read what I am writing?
M. F. A. L.—Can you read what I’m writing?
Yes.
Yes.
M. F. A. L.—How do you read it? By looking over my shoulder?
M. F. A. L.—How do you read it? By glancing over my shoulder?
Table again called for alphabet and spelt:—
Table once more called for the alphabet and spelled:—
SENSE IT.
FEEL IT.
M. F. A. L.—Shall you ever be able to write through my hand do you think?
M. F. A. L.—Do you think you'll ever be able to write through my hand?
(Silence.)
(Silence.)
M. F. A. L.—Well, anyhow, you would like me to try?
M. F. A. L.—Well, anyway, would you like me to give it a shot?
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Raymond, have you plenty to do over there?
O. J. L.—Raymond, do you have a lot to do over there?
Loud "Yes."
Loud "Yes."
O. J. L.—Well, look here, I am going to give another name away.
O. J. L.—Well, check it out, I'm going to reveal another name.
No.
No.
O. J. L.—Oh! You prefer not! Very well, I will ask you in this way: Have you met any particular friend of mine?
O. J. L.—Oh! You’d rather not? Alright, let me put it this way: Have you met any specific friend of mine?
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Very well then, spell his name.
O. J. L.—Alright then, spell his name.
The table spelt:—
The table spelled:—
MYRES AND GRA.
MYRES AND GRA.
Here O. J. L. thought that he had got wrong—rather suspected that the A meant "No," and stupidly said:—
Here O. J. L. thought he had made a mistake—he suspected that the A meant "No," and stupidly said:—
O. J. L.—Well, it doesn't matter, it won't be evidential, so I may as well guess what you mean: Is it Gurney?
O. J. L.—Well, it doesn't matter, it won’t be evidence, so I might as well take a guess: Is it Gurney?
The table assented. But it still went on spelling. It again spelt:—
The table agreed. But it continued to spell. It spelled again:—
GRA
GRA
and then
and then
ND,
ND
at which O. J. L. queried: Grand men?
at which O. J. L. asked: Great men?
The table dissented, and went on and spelt:—
The table disagreed and kept spelling:
FATHER.
DAD.
O. J. L.—Oh! You mean Grandfather!
O. J. L.—Oh! You’re referring to Grandpa!
Yes.
Yes.
M. F. A. L.—Is he with Myers and Gurney?
M. F. A. L.—Is he with Myers and Gurney?
Emphatic "No."
Emphatic "No."
M. F. A. L.—Which grandfather is it that you mean? Give the first letter of his Christian name.
M. F. A. L.—Which grandpa are you referring to? Just tell me the first letter of his first name.
W.
W.
M. F. A. L.—Dear Grandpapa! He would be sure to come and help you!
M. F. A. L.—Dear Grandpa! He will definitely come and help you!
O. J. L.—I say, do you like this table method better than the 'Feda' method?
O. J. L.—I'm curious, do you like this table method better than the 'Feda' method?
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—But you remember that you can send anything you want specially through Paul always?
O. J. L.—But you know you can always send anything you want through Paul, right?
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—That was a grand sitting yesterday that your mother had! [i.e. the one with Peters.]
O. J. L.—That was an incredible meeting yesterday that your mom had! [i.e. the one with Peters.]
Yes.
Yes.
M. F. A. L.—Do you remember showing olives?
M. F. A. L.—Do you remember showcasing olives?
Yes.
Yes.
M. F. A. L.—What did you mean by them?
M. F. A. L.—What did you mean by that?
OLIVER.
OLIVER.
M. F. A. L.—Then we now understand—A Roland for an Oliver.
M. F. A. L.—So we get it now—A Roland for an Oliver.
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—You intended no reference to Italy? [We had been doubtful at first of the significance of the olives; see p. 131.]
O. J. L.—You weren't talking about Italy, were you? [We were initially unsure about the meaning of the olives; see p. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.]
No.
No.
O. J. L.—But you were interested in Italy?
O. J. L.—So, you were interested in Italy?
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Do you remember anyone special in Italy?
O. J. L.—Do you remember someone special in Italy?
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Well, spell the name.
O. J. L.—Okay, spell the name.
(A name was spelt correctly.)
(A name was spelled correctly.)
O. J. L.—You are clever at this!
O. J. L.—You are so smart at this!
Loud "Yes."
Loud "Yes."
O. J. L.—You always did like mechanical things.
O. J. L.—You've always been into mechanical stuff.
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Can you explain how you do this? I mean how you work the table?
O. J. L.—Can you explain how you do this? I mean, how do you work the table?
The table then spelt with the alphabet for a long time, and as the words were not divided up, the sitters lost touch, one after the other, with what was being said. I, for instance, lost touch after the word "magnetism," and, for all I know, it was nonsense that was being said; but the recorder put all the letters down as they came, each letter being called out by me according to the stoppages of the table, and the record reads thus:—
The table then went on to spell out the alphabet for a long time, and since the words weren’t separated, the people nearby slowly lost track of what was being said. For instance, I lost focus after the word "magnetism," and for all I know, it could have been gibberish; but the recorder noted down all the letters as they were pronounced, with each letter being called out by me while the table moved, and the record says:—
You all supply magnetism gathered in medium, and that goes into table; and we manipulate.
You all supply the energy gathered in the medium, which goes into the table, and we take care of it.
[The interest of this is due to the fact that the table was spelling our coherent words, although the sitters could hardly, under the circumstances, be exercising any control. Naturally, this does not prevent the medium from being supposed to be tilting out a message herself, and hence it is quite unevidential of course; but, in innumerable other cases, the things said were quite outside the knowledge of the medium.]
[This is intriguing because the table was forming coherent words, even though the sitters probably had no control over what was happening. Of course, this doesn't eliminate the possibility that the medium could have been sending a message herself, which makes it less convincing; however, in many other cases, the information shared was entirely unknown to the medium.]
O. J. L.—It is not what I should call "magnetism," is it?
O. J. L.—That's not what I would describe as "magnetism," is it?
No.
Nope.
O. J. L.—But you do not object to the term?
O. J. L.—But you don't have a problem with the term?
No.
No.
O. J. L—Paul's mother offers to take messages from you, and if she gets them, she will transmit them to us.
O. J. L—Paul's mom is willing to take messages from you, and if she receives them, she'll pass them on to us.
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L—So when you want to get anything special through, just speak to Paul.
O. J. L—So when you want to get something special done, just talk to Paul.
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—And sometimes I shall be able to get a message back to you.
O. J. L.—And sometimes I’ll be able to send you a message back.
Loud "Yes."
Loud "Yes."
(In answer to a question about which of his sisters were at school with a specified person, the names of the right two sisters were now spelt out:—)
(In response to a question about which of his sisters went to school with a specific person, the names of the two correct sisters were now spelled out:)
Rosalind.
Rosalind.
[We generally spell the name Rosalynde, but it was spelt here Rosalind as shown.]
We usually spell the name Rosalynde, but here it is spelled Rosalind as shown.
BARBARA.
BARBARA.
M. F. A. L.—Isn't it clever of him?
M. F. A. L.—Isn't he clever?
Loud and amusing "Yes."
Loud and funny "Yes."
O. J. L.—I never thought you would do it so quickly.
O. J. L.—I never thought you’d get it done so fast.
No.
No.
O. J. L.—Can you still make acrostics? [O. J. L. immediately regretted having asked this leading sort of question, but it was asked.]
O. J. L.—Can you still make acrostics? [O. J. L. immediately regretted asking this kind of leading question, but it was out there.]
Yes.
Yes.
K. K.—You are not going to make one now?
K. K.—Aren't you going to make one now?
No.
No.
M. F. A. L.—Can you see me, Raymond, at other times when I am not with a medium?
M. F. A. L.—Can you see me, Raymond, at other times when I'm not with a medium?
Alphabet called for, and spelt:—
Alphabet called for and spelled:—
SOMETIMES.
SOMETIMES.
M. F. A. L.—You mean when I think of you?
M. F. A. L.—You mean when I think about you?
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—That must be very often.
O. J. L.—That probably happens a lot.
Loud "Yes."
Loud "Yes."
[When a 'loud' Yes or No is stated, it means that the table tilted violently, bumping on the floor and making a noise which impressed the recorder, so that the words "loud bumps" were added in the record.]
[When a 'loud' Yes or No is given, it indicates that the table shook noticeably, hitting the floor and making a noise that got the attention of the person recording it, which is why the phrase "loud bumps" was added to the record.]
[I then asked him about the houses (of which he had specified some identifying features at a previous sitting through Peters on 27 September). He seemed to regret that there had been some confusion, and now correctly spelt out GROVEPARK as the name of one house, and NEWCASTLE as the place where'Mother's home' was. But I omit details, as before.] (See p. 135.)
I then asked him about the houses he had mentioned some identifying features of in a previous session through Peters on September 27. He seemed to regret the confusion and now correctly spelled out GROVEPARK as the name of one house and NEWCASTLE as the location of 'Mother's home.' But I'll skip the details, as before. (See p. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.)
O. J. L.—-Tell Mr. Myers and Mr. Gurney that I am glad to hear from them and that they are helping you.
O. J. L.—-Tell Mr. Myers and Mr. Gurney that I’m happy to hear from them and that they’re supporting you.
Yes.
Yes.
M. F. A. L.—Give my affectionate regards to Mr. Gurney for a message which he got through for me some time ago.
M. F. A. L.—Please send my warm regards to Mr. Gurney for a message he passed along to me a while back.
Yes.
Yep.
O. J. L.—Now you must rest.
O. J. L.—Now you need to rest.
Yes.
Yes.
M. F. A. L.—One of your record sleeps.
M. F. A. L.—One of your longest sleeps.
Loud "Yes."
Loud "Yes."
O. J. L.—Good-bye, I will tell the family to-morrow.
O. J. L.—Goodbye, I’ll let the family know tomorrow.
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Alec especially.
O. J. L.—Alec in particular.
Yes.
Yes.
M. F. A. L.—Noël will love to have his name spelt out.
M. F. A. L.—Noël will enjoy seeing his name spelled out.
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Well, good-bye, old man, we shall hear from you again.
O. J. L.—Well, goodbye, old man, we'll hear from you again.
M. F. A. L.—Good-bye, Raymond darling.
M. F. A. L.—Goodbye, darling Raymond.
O. J. L.—Before we stop, does Paul want to say a word?
O. J. L.—Before we wrap up, does Paul want to say something?
(Paul was then understood to take control, and spelt out:—)
Paul then stepped up and said:
HE IS GETTING ON WELL.
HE IS DOING WELL.
(We then thanked Paul for helping, and said good-bye.)
We thanked Paul for his help and said goodbye.
(End of sitting.)
(Session ended.)
To complete the record I shall append the few annotations which I made a couple of days afterwards, before I supplement them with later information.
To finish the record, I will add the few notes I wrote a few days later, before I update them with more recent information.
Contemporary Annotations for Table Sitting on
28 September
Very many things were given right at the sitting above recorded, and in most cases the rightness will be clear from the comments of the sitters as recorded. But two names are given on which further annotation is necessary, because the sitters did not understand them; in other words, they were such as, if confirmed, would furnish excellent and indeed exceptional evidence.
Very many things were shared during the session mentioned above, and usually, the accuracy will be apparent from the comments of the participants as noted. However, there are two names that need additional explanation because the participants didn’t understand them; in other words, if verified, they would provide outstanding and indeed extraordinary evidence.
The first is 'Norman,' about which a very important report could be made at once; but I think it better not to put anything in writing on that subject even now, at the present stage, since it is quite distinct, unforgettable, and of the first importance.
The first is 'Norman,' and I could immediately write an important report about it; however, I believe it's better not to put anything in writing on that topic at this stage, since it is quite distinct, unforgettable, and extremely important.
The other is the name 'Mitchell,' which at present we have had no opportunity for verifying; hence annotation on that must be postponed. Suffice it to say that to-day (6 October 1915) it remains unknown. Whether an Army List has been published this year seems doubtful, and on the whole unlikely; and no Army List later than 1909 has been so far accessible. Such few inquiries as have up to now been made have drawn blank. [See, however, three pages further on.]
The other name is 'Mitchell,' which we haven't had a chance to verify yet; so we'll have to put off any notes on that. For now, we can say that as of today (October 6, 1915), it remains unknown. It seems unlikely that an Army List has been published this year, and we haven't had access to any Army List later than 1909. The few inquiries made so far haven't yielded any results. [See, however, three pages further on.]
Later Information
On 10 October Mrs. Kennedy, alone, had some automatic writing as follows:—
On October 10, Mrs. Kennedy, alone, did some automatic writing as follows:—
Mother, Paul is bringing Raymond. I have him here; he will speak to you....
Mother, Paul is bringing Raymond. I have him here; he will talk to you....
"Please listen carefully now I want to speak to you about Norman. There is a special meaning to that because we always called my brother Alec Norman, the (muddle ...)."
"Please listen carefully now. I want to talk to you about Norman. There's a special significance to that because we always called my brother Alec Norman, the (muddle ...)."
(K. K. said that she couldn't get the rest clearly.)
(K. K. said that she couldn't understand the rest clearly.)
On 12 October we had a sitting with Mrs. Leonard, K. K. also present, and I said to 'Raymond':—
On October 12, we had a meeting with Mrs. Leonard, K. K. was also there, and I said to 'Raymond':—
Do you want to say anything more about that name 'Norman'? You gave a message about it to Mrs. Kennedy, but I don't know whether she got it clearly. Perhaps you want to amplify it? If so, now is your chance. (The reply spelt out was:—)
Do you want to add anything else about the name 'Norman'? You sent a message about it to Mrs. Kennedy, but I’m not sure she fully understood it. Maybe you’d like to explain more? If so, now's your opportunity. (The reply spelled out was:—)
I told her that I called Lionel.
I told her that I had called Lionel.
On which K. K. said: "I am afraid I often get names
wrong. I suppose I got the name of the wrong
brother."
On which K. K. said: "I'm afraid I often mix up names. I guess I got the name of the wrong brother."
Note by O. J. L. about the name 'Norman'
It appears that 'Norman' was a kind of general nickname; and especially that when the boys played hockey together, which they often did in the field here, by way of getting concentrated exercise, Raymond, who was specially active at this game, had a habit of shouting out, "Now then, Norman," or other words of encouragement, to any of his other brothers whom he wished to stimulate, especially apparently Lionel, though sometimes Alec and the others. That is what I am now told, and I can easily realise the manner of it. But I can testify that I was not aware that a name like this was used, nor was Lady Lodge, we two being the only members of the family present at the Leonard table sitting where the name 'Norman' was given. (See p. 140.)
It seems that 'Norman' was kind of a general nickname; especially when the boys played hockey together, which they often did in the field here for some serious exercise. Raymond, who was particularly good at this game, had a habit of shouting out, "Now then, Norman," or other encouraging phrases to motivate his brothers, especially Lionel, though sometimes Alec and the others too. That's what I’ve been told, and I can easily picture how it went. However, I can confirm that I didn't know a name like this was used, nor did Lady Lodge; we were the only family members present at the Leonard table when the name 'Norman' was mentioned. (See p. 140.)
It will be remembered that at that sitting I first asked [ 148] him what name the boys had called him, and, after a few partial failures, obviously only due to mismanagement of the table, he replied, 'Pat,' which was quite right. I then asked if he would like to give the name of a brother, and he replied 'Norman,' which I thought was quite wrong. I did not even allow him to finish the last letter. I said he was confused, and had better begin again; after which he amended it to '*Noël,' which I accepted as correct. But it will now be observed that the name 'Norman' was the best he could possibly give, as a kind of comprehensive nickname applicable to almost any brother. And a nickname was an appropriate kind of response, because we had already had the nickname 'Pat,' Furthermore, on subsequent occasions he explained that it was the name by which he had called Lionel; and, through Mrs. Kennedy—if she did not make a mistake—that it was a name he had called Alec by. It is quite possible, however, that he had intended to say 'Lionel' on that occasion, and that she got it wrong. I am not sure how that may be. Again, at a later stage, in a family sitting—no medium present—one of the boys said, "Pat, do you remember 'Norman'?" at which with some excitement, the girls only touching the table, he spelt out 'Hockey'; thus completing the whole incident.
It will be remembered that during that session I first asked [ 148] him what name the boys had called him, and after a few partial mistakes, clearly just due to mismanagement of the table, he replied, 'Pat,' which was correct. I then asked if he would like to name a brother, and he replied 'Norman,' which I thought was incorrect. I didn't even let him finish the last letter. I told him he was confused and should start over; after which he changed it to '*Noël,' which I accepted as correct. But it will now be noted that the name 'Norman' was the best he could possibly give, as a sort of general nickname applicable to almost any brother. And a nickname was a fitting kind of response, since we had already encountered the nickname 'Pat.' Furthermore, on later occasions he clarified that it was the name he had used for Lionel; and, through Mrs. Kennedy—if she didn't make a mistake—that it was a name he had used for Alec as well. It's quite possible, however, that he meant to say 'Lionel' that time, and she got it wrong. I'm not sure how that may be. Later on, in a family session—no medium present—one of the boys said, "Pat, do you remember 'Norman'?" to which, with some excitement, the girls only touching the table, he spelled out 'Ice hockey'; thus completing the whole incident.
The most evidential portions, however, are those obtained when nobody present understood what was being said—namely, first, the spelling of the name 'Norman' when those present thought that it was all a mistake after the first two letters; and secondly, the explanation to Mrs. Kennedy that it was a name by which he had called one of his brothers, showing that it was originally given by no accident, but with intention.
The most compelling evidence, however, comes from moments when no one present understood what was being said—specifically, first, the spelling of the name 'Norman' when those there thought it was just a mistake after the first two letters; and second, the clarification to Mrs. Kennedy that it was a name he used for one of his brothers, indicating that it was given purposefully, not by chance.
As to the name 'Pat' (p. 140), I extract the following from a diary of Noël, as evidence that it was very much Raymond's nickname; but of course we knew it:—
As for the name 'Pat' (p. 140), I take the following from a diary of Noël to show that it was definitely Raymond's nickname; but of course we already knew that:—
1914
"Sept. 9. Pat goes to L'pool re Commission.
" 10. Pat gets commission in 3rd South Lanc's.
" 14. Pat collecting kit. We inspect revolvers.
" 18. Pat comes up to Harborne for some rifle practice.
Does not find it too easy.
" 19. I become member of Harborne Rifle Club.
" 20. Pat shoots again.
1914
"Sept. 9. Pat goes to Liverpool for his commission.
10. Pat gets assigned to the 3rd South Lancs.
14. Pat is gathering his gear. We check out the revolvers.
"18. Pat goes up to Harborne for some rifle practice."
He doesn't find it very easy.
19. I join the Harborne Rifle Club.
20. Pat shoots again.
Sept. 23. Pat leaves for L'pool to start his training at Great Crosby.
I give up commission-idea for the present.
Oct. 17. Pat comes home to welcome Parents back from Australia.
" 20. Pat returns to L'pool."
Sept. 23. Pat departs for Liverpool to begin his training at Great Crosby.
I'm putting the idea of a commission on hold for now.
Oct. 17. Pat comes home to welcome his parents as they come back from Australia.
"20. Pat returns to Liverpool."
Note on the name 'Mitchell' (added later)
It can be remembered that, when asked on 28 September for the name of an officer, Raymond spelt out Mitchell, and indicated decisively that the word Aeroplane was connected with him; he also assented to the idea that he was one whom the family didn't know, and that so it would be better as evidence (pp. 141, 142).
It can be recalled that, when asked on September 28 for the name of an officer, Raymond spelled out Mitchell and clearly indicated that the word Airplane was related to him; he also agreed with the notion that he was someone the family didn't know, and that it would be better for evidence (pp. 141, 142).
After several failures at identification I learnt, on 10 October, through the kind offices of the Librarian of the London Library, that he had ascertained from the War Office that there was a 2nd Lieut. E. H. Mitchell now attached to the Royal Flying Corps. Accordingly, I wrote to the Record Office, Farnborough; and ultimately, on 6 November, received a post card from Captain Mitchell, to whom I must apologise for the, I hope, quite harmless use of his name:—
After several unsuccessful attempts to identify him, I found out on October 10, thanks to the help of the Librarian at the London Library, that there was a 2nd Lieutenant E. H. Mitchell currently with the Royal Flying Corps. So, I wrote to the Record Office in Farnborough, and finally, on November 6, I received a postcard from Captain Mitchell, to whom I must apologize for, what I hope is, the harmless use of his name:—
"Many thanks for your kind letter. I believe I have met your son, though where I forget. My wounds are quite healed, and I am posted to Home Establishment for a bit, with rank of Captain. Your letter only got here (Dover) from France this morning, so please excuse delay in answering.
"Thank you very much for your kind letter. I believe I’ve met your son, but I can’t recall where. My injuries have healed nicely, and I’m currently assigned to Home Establishment for a while, holding the rank of Captain. Your letter just got here in Dover from France this morning, so I’m sorry for the delay in my reply."
E. H. Mitchell."
E. H. Mitchell."
In concluding this chapter, I may quote a little bit of non-evidential but characteristic writing from 'Paul.' It was received on 30 September 1915 by Mrs. Kennedy, when alone, and her record runs thus:—
In concluding this chapter, I can quote a bit of non-evidential but characteristic writing from 'Paul.' It was received on September 30, 1915, by Mrs. Kennedy when she was alone, and her record goes like this:—
(After writing of other things, I not having asked anything about Raymond.)
(After discussing other matters, I did not ask anything about Raymond.)
"I think it hardly possible for you to believe how quickly Raymond learns; he seems to believe all that we have to fight to teach the others.
"I know it’s hard for you to see how quickly Raymond picks things up; he seems to grasp everything we struggle to teach the others."
"Poor chaps, you see no one has told them before they come over, and it is so hard for them when they see us and they feel alive, and their people keep on sobbing.
"Poor guys, no one has informed them before they arrive, and it’s really tough for them when they see us feeling lively while their own people keep crying."
"The business for you and me gets harder and harder as the days go on, mother; it needs thousand at this work, and you are so small.
"The situation for you and me is getting harder every day, Mom; it takes a lot of effort to do this work, and you’re so small."
"I feel that God helps us, but I want Him to find others, darling; there is no time to waste either in your place or mine, but I know you are trying ever so hard."
"I believe God is helping us, but I want Him to help others too, my dear; there's no time to waste in either your situation or mine, but I know you’re putting in a lot of effort."
CHAPTER 9
EFFORTS FOR STRONGER EVIDENCE
IN a Table Sitting it is manifest that the hypothesis of unconscious muscular guidance must be pressed to extremes, as a normal explanation, when the communications are within the knowledge of any of the people sitting at the table.
IN a Table Sitting, it is clear that the idea of unconscious muscular guidance needs to be taken to extremes as a standard explanation when the messages are known by anyone at the table.
Many of the answers obtained were quite outside the knowledge of the medium or of Mrs. Kennedy, but many were inevitably known to us; and in so far as they were within our knowledge it might be supposed, even by ourselves, that we partially controlled the tilting, though of course we were careful to try not to do so. And besides, the things that came, or the form in which they came, were often quite unexpected, and could not consciously have been controlled by us. Moreover, when the sentence spelt out was a long one, we lost our way in it and could not tell whether it was sense or nonsense; for the words ran into each other. The note-taker, who puts each letter down as it is called out to him by the sitters at the table, has no difficulty in reading a message, although, with the words all run together, it hardly looks intelligible at first sight, even when written. For instance:—
Many of the answers we received were completely beyond what the medium or Mrs. Kennedy knew, but many were things we were already aware of; so it might seem, even to us, that we had some control over the tilting, although we were careful not to influence it. Also, the information that came through, or the way it presented itself, was often quite unexpected and couldn't have consciously been directed by us. Moreover, when the message spelled out was long, we lost track of it and couldn't tell if it made sense or was nonsense; the words blurred together. The note-taker, who writes down each letter as it's called out by the sitters at the table, has no trouble reading a message, even though the words all run together and barely seem clear at first glance, even in writing. For example:—
BELESSWORRIEDALECPLEASEOLDCHAP,
Be less worried, old chap.
which was one message, or:—
which was one message, or:—
GATHEREDINMEDIUMANDTHATGOESINTOTABLEANDWEMANIPULATE,
GATHERED IN MEDIUM AND THAT GOES INTO TABLE AND WE MANIPULATE,
which was part of another. Neither could be readily followed if called out slowly letter by letter.
which was part of another. Neither could be easily followed if called out slowly, letter by letter.
Still, the family were naturally and properly sceptical about it all.
Still, the family was understandably and rightfully skeptical about it all.
Accordingly, my sons devised certain questions in the
[ 152]
nature of tests, referring to trivial matters which they
thought would be within Raymond's recollection, but
which had happened to them alone during summer excursions
or the like, and so were quite outside my knowledge.
They gave me a few written questions, devised in
conclave in their own room; and on 12 October I took
them to London with me in a sealed envelope, which I
opened in the train when going up for a sitting; and after
the sitting had begun I took an early opportunity of
putting the questions it contained. We had already had
(on 28 September, reported in last chapter) one incident of
a kind unknown to us, in the name 'Norman,' but they
wanted more of the same or of a still more marked kind.
I think it will be well to copy the actual contemporary
record of this part of the sitting in full:—
Accordingly, my sons came up with some questions in the nature of tests, focusing on trivial matters that they thought Raymond might remember, but which had only happened to them during summer trips or similar events, and so were completely beyond my knowledge. They wrote down a few questions after brainstorming together in their room; and on October 12, I took them to London with me in a sealed envelope, which I opened on the train while heading up for a session. Once the session began, I took an early chance to ask the questions inside. We had already experienced one unknown incident before (on September 28, reported in the last chapter) involving the name 'Norman,' but they wanted more of the same or something even more striking. I think it’s best to include the actual contemporary record of this part of the session in full:—
Second Table Sitting of O. J. L. and M. F. A. L. with
Mrs. Leonard, 12 October 1915, 5.30 p. m.
Present.—O. J. L., M. F. A. L., K. K., with Dr. Kennedy
as Recorder
Present.—O. J. L., M. F. A. L., K. K., with Dr. Kennedy as the Recorder
At the beginning of the sitting O. J. L. explained that they were now engaged in trying to get distinct and crucial evidence; that preparations had been made accordingly; and that no doubt those on the other side approved, and would co-operate.
At the start of the meeting, O. J. L. explained that they were now focused on obtaining clear and important evidence; that preparations had been made for this purpose; and that everyone on the other side was likely in agreement and would cooperate.
A pause of three and a half minutes then ensued, and the table gave a slow tilt.
A pause of three and a half minutes followed, and the table slowly tilted.
O. J. L.—Is Paul there?
O. J. L.—Is Paul around?
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Have you brought Raymond?
O. J. L.—Did you bring Raymond?
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Are you there, Raymond?
O. J. L.—Are you there, Raymond?
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L. (after M. F. A. L. had greeted him).—
O.J.L. (after M. F. A. L. had greeted him).—
Well now, look here, my boy, I have got a few questions which your brothers think you will know something about, whereas to me they are quite meaningless. Their object is to make quite sure that we don't unconsciously help in getting the answers because we know them. In this case that is impossible, because nobody here knows the answers at all. Do you understand the object?
Well, listen up, kid, I have a few questions that your brothers think you might know something about, but to me, they don't mean much. The goal is to make sure we don't accidentally assist in finding the answers just because we’re aware of them. In this case, that's not possible, since no one here knows the answers at all. Do you get the purpose?
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Very well then, shall I begin?
O. J. L.—Alright then, should I start?
No.
No.
O. J. L.—Oh! You want to say something yourself first?
O. J. L.—Oh! You want to say something yourself first?
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Very well then, the alphabet.
O.J.L.—Alright then, the alphabet.
TELLTHEMINOWTRYTOPROVEIHAVEMESSAGESTOTHEWORLD.
TELL THEM NOW TRY TO PROVE I HAVE MESSAGES TO THE WORLD.
[Taking these long messages down is rather tedious, and it is noteworthy that the sitters lose their way sooner or later—I had no idea what was coming or whether it was sense—but of course when it is complete the recorder can easily interpret, and does so.]
Writing these long messages can be pretty dull, and it's funny how the people involved eventually get mixed up—I had no idea what was going to happen next or if it even made any sense—but once it's done, the recorder can easily figure it out, and it does.
O. J. L.—Is that the end of what you want to say yourself?
O. J. L.—Is that everything you want to say?
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Well then, now I will give you one of the boys' questions, but I had better explain that you may not in every case understand the reference yourself. We can hardly expect you to answer all of them, and if you don't do one, I will pass on to another. But don't hurry, and we will take down whatever you choose to say on each of them. The first question is:—
O. J. L.—Okay, I'm going to ask you a question from one of the boys, but I want to make it clear that you might not always understand the reference. We can't expect you to answer every single one, and if you skip one, I'll just move on to the next. But take your time, and we'll keep track of whatever you choose to say about each one. The first question is:—
O. J. L.—"Do you remember anything about the Argonauts?"
O. J. L.—"Do you remember anything about the Argonauts?"
(Silence for a short time.)
(Silence for a moment.)
O. J. L.—'Argonauts' is the word. Does it mean anything to you? Take your time.
O. J. L.—'Argonauts' is the term. Does it mean anything to you? No rush.
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Well, would you like to say what you remember?
O. J. L.—So, would you like to share what you remember?
Yes.
Yes.
Then, by repeating the alphabet, was spelt:—
Then, by repeating the alphabet, it was spelled:—
TELEGRAM.
TELEGRAM.
O. J. L.—Is that the end of that answer?
O.J.L.—Is that the final answer?
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Well, now I will go on to the second question then. "What do you recollect about Dartmoor?"
O. J. L.—Okay, let’s get to the second question. "What do you remember about Dartmoor?"
The time for thought was now much briefer, and the table began to spell pretty soon:—
The time for thinking was now much shorter, and the table began to be clear pretty fast:—
COMING DOWN.
Coming down.
O. J. L.—Is that all?
O. J. L.—Is that it?
No.
No.
O. J. L.—Very well then, continue.
O.J.L.—Alright then, keep going.
HILL FERRY.
HILL FERRY.
O. J. L.—Is that the end of the answer?
O.J.L.—Is that the final answer?
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Very well then, now I will go on to the third question, which appears to be a bit complicated. "What do the following suggest to you:—
O. J. L.—Okay, I'm going to tackle the third question, which seems a little complicated. "What do the following suggest to you:—
Evinrude
O. B. P.
Kaiser's sister."
Evinrude
O. B. P.
Kaiser's sister.
(No good answers were obtained to these questions: they seemed to awaken no reminiscence.
No good answers were found to these questions; they didn't seem to bring back any memories.
Asked the name of the man to whom Raymond had given his dog, the table spelt out STALLARD quite correctly. But this was within our knowledge.)
When asked for the name of the man to whom Raymond had given his dog, the table clearly spelled out STALLARD. But we already knew that.)
(End of extract from record.)
(End of extract from record.)
Note on the Memories Triggered by the
Words 'Argonauts' and 'Dartmoor'
On reporting to my sons the answers given about 'Argonauts' and 'Dartmoor' they were not at all satisfied.
On telling my sons the answers I got about 'Argonauts' and 'Dartmoor,' they weren't satisfied at all.
I found, however, from the rest of the family that the word TELEGRAM had a meaning in connexion with 'Argonauts'—a meaning quite unknown to me or to my wife—but it was not the meaning that his brothers had expected. It seems that in a previous year, while his mother and I were away from home, the boys travelled by motor to somewhere in Devonshire, and (as they think) at Taunton Raymond had gone into a post office, sent a telegram home to say that they were all right, and had signed it 'Argonauts.' The girls at home remembered [ 155] the telegram quite well; the other boys did not specially remember it.
I found out, however, from the rest of the family that the word TELEGRAM had a connection to 'Argonauts'—a meaning completely unknown to me or my wife—but it wasn’t the meaning his brothers had expected. Apparently, the previous year, while his mother and I were away, the boys took a motor trip to somewhere in Devonshire, and (as they believe) in Taunton, Raymond went into a post office, sent a telegram home to say they were all right, and signed it 'Argonauts.' The girls at home remembered [ 155] the telegram pretty well; the other boys didn’t particularly remember it.
The kind of reference they had wanted, Raymond gave ultimately though meagrely, but only after so much time had elapsed that the test had lost its value, and only after I had been told to switch him on to "Tent Lodge, Coniston," as a clue.
The type of reference they wanted, Raymond finally provided, but it was so limited that by the time it came, the test had lost its significance, and only after I was instructed to connect him to "Tent Lodge, Coniston," as a hint.
Now that I know the answer I do not think the question was a particularly good one; and the word 'telegram,' which they had not expected and did not want, seems to me quite as good an incident as the one which, without a clue, they had expected him to recall in connexion with 'Argonauts.' Besides, I happened myself to know about an Iceland trip in Mr. Alfred Holt's yacht 'Argo' and its poetic description by Mr. Mitchell Banks and Dr. Caton in a book in the drawing-room at Tent Lodge, Coniston (though the boys were not aware of my knowledge), but it never struck me that this was the thing wanted; and if it had come, the test would have been of inferior quality.
Now that I know the answer, I don’t think the question was very good; and the word 'telegram,' which they didn’t expect and didn’t want, seems to me as valid an incident as the one they thought he should remember regarding 'Argonauts.' Also, I happen to know about a trip to Iceland on Mr. Alfred Holt's yacht 'Argo' and its poetic description by Mr. Mitchell Banks and Dr. Caton in a book in the drawing room at Tent Lodge, Coniston (though the boys didn't know I was aware of this), but it never occurred to me that this was what they were looking for; and if it had come up, the test would have been of lower quality.
Concerning the answer to 'Dartmoor,' his brothers said that COMING DOWN HILL was correct but incomplete; and that they didn't remember any FERRY. I therefore on another occasion, namely, on 22 October, during a sitting with Feda (that is to say, not a table sitting, but one in which Mrs. Leonard's control Feda was speaking and reporting messages), said—still knowing nothing about the matter beyond what I had obtained in the table sitting—"Raymond, do you remember about 'Dartmoor' and the hill?"
Concerning the answer to 'Dartmoor,' his brothers said that Downhill was right but not complete; and that they didn’t recall any Ferry. So, on another occasion, specifically on October 22, during a session with Feda (not a table sitting, but a session where Mrs. Leonard's control Feda was speaking and delivering messages), I asked—still knowing nothing more about the situation than what I had gathered in the table sitting—“Raymond, do you remember anything about 'Dartmoor' and the hill?”
The answer is recorded as follows, together with the
explanatory note added soon afterwards—though the
record is no doubt a little abbreviated, as there was some
dramatic representation by Feda of sudden swerves and
holding on:—
The answer is recorded like this, along with the explanatory note added shortly after—though the record is probably a bit shortened, as there was some dramatic acting by Feda of sudden turns and holding on:—
From Sitting of O. J. L. and M. F. A. L. on
22 October 1915. 'Feda' speaking
O. J. L.—Raymond, do you remember about Dartmoor and the hill?
O. J. L.—Raymond, do you remember Dartmoor and the hill?
Yes, he said something about that. He says it was exciting. What is that he says? Brake—something about a brake—putting the brake on. Then he says, sudden curve—a curve— he gives Feda a jerk like going round a quick curve.
Yes, he said something about that. He says it was exciting. What is it that he says? Brake—something about a brake—putting the brake on. Then he says, sudden curve—a curve—he gives Feda a jerk like going around a quick curve.
[I thought at the time that this was only padding, but subsequently learnt from Alec that it was right. It was on a very long night-journey on their motor, when the silencer had broken down by bursting, at the bottom of an exceptionally steep hill, and there was an unnerving noise. The one who was driving went down other steep hills at a great pace, with sudden applications of the brake and sudden quick curves, so that those at the back felt it dangerous, and ultimately had to stop him and insist on going slower. Raymond was in front with the one who was driving. The sensations of those at the back of the car were strongly connected with the brake and with curves; but they had mainly expected a reference from Raymond to the noise from the broken silencer, which they ultimately repaired during the same night with tools obtained at the first town they stopped at.]
[I initially thought this was just a story, but later I found out from Alec that it was true. It happened during a long night drive when the muffler broke and made a loud noise at the bottom of a steep hill. The driver sped down other steep hills, braking suddenly and taking sharp turns, which made those in the back feel unsafe, so they had to stop him and insist he slow down. Raymond was in the front with the driver. The people in the back were really focused on the braking and the turns; however, they mainly expected Raymond to mention the noise from the broken muffler, which they ended up fixing that same night with tools they picked up in the first town they stopped in.]
O. J. L.—Did he say anything about a ferry?
O. J. L.—Did he mention anything about a ferry?
No, he doesn't remember that he did.
No, he doesn't remember doing that.
O. J. L.—Well, I got it down.
O. J. L.—Well, I wrote it down.
There is one: all the same there is one. But he didn't mean to say anything about it. He says it was a stray thought that he didn't mean to give through the table. He has found one or two things come in like that. It was only a stray thought. You have got what you wanted, he says. 'Hill,' he meant to give, but not 'ferry.' They have nothing to do with each other.
There is one: still, there is one. But he didn’t mean to say anything about it. He says it was a random thought that he didn’t mean to share. He has noticed one or two things slip in like that. It was just a random thought. You got what you wanted, he says. 'Hill,' he intended to say, but not 'ferry.' They’re unrelated.
On a later occasion I took an opportunity of catechising him further about this word FERRY, since none of the family remembered a ferry, or could attach any significance to the word. He still insisted that his mention of a ferry in connexion with a motor trip was not [ 157] wrong, only he admitted that "some people wouldn't call it a ferry." I waited to see if any further light would come; and now, long afterwards, on 18 August 1916 I receive from Alec a note referring to a recent trip, this month, which says:—
On another occasion, I took the chance to ask him more about the word BOAT, since none of the family remembered a ferry or could attach any meaning to the word. He still insisted that his mention of a ferry in connection with a road trip wasn’t [ 157] wrong; he just acknowledged that "some people wouldn’t call it a ferry." I waited to see if any more clarity would come; and now, much later, on August 18, 1916, I receive a note from Alec about a recent trip this month, which says:—
"By the way, on the run to Langland Bay (which is the motor run we all did the year before the run to Newquay) we pass through Briton Ferry; and there is precious little ferry about it."
"By the way, on the way to Langland Bay (which is the road trip we all took the year before the trip to Newquay), we go through Briton Ferry; and there’s hardly any ferrying going on there."
So even this semi-accidental reminiscence seems to be
turning out not altogether unmeaning; though probably
it ought not to have come in answer to 'Dartmoor.' (See
more about Dartmoor on p. 211.)
So even this somewhat accidental memory seems to be turning out to have some significance; although it probably shouldn't have come in response to 'Dartmoor.' (See more about Dartmoor on p. 211.)
General Comments on This Type of Question
It will be realised, I think, that a single word, apart from the context, thus thrown at a person who may be in a totally different mood at the time, is exceedingly difficult; and on the whole I think he must be credited with some success, though not with as much as had been hoped for. If his brothers had been present, or had had any interview with him in the meantime, it would have spoilt the test, considered strictly; nevertheless, it might have made the obtaining of the answers they wanted much more feasible, inasmuch as in their presence he would have been in their atmosphere and be more likely to remember their sort of surroundings. Up to this date they had not had any sitting with a medium at all. In presence of his mother and myself, and under all the circumstances, and what he felt to be the gravity of some of his recent experiences, it is not to me surprising that the answers were only partially satisfactory; though, indeed, to me they seem rather good. Anyhow, they had the effect of stimulating his brothers to arrange some sittings with a table at home on their own account.
I think it will become clear that a single word, without any context, thrown at someone who might be in a completely different mood, is really challenging. Overall, I believe he deserves some credit for his efforts, even if he didn’t achieve as much as we had hoped. If his brothers had been there or had met with him beforehand, it would have messed up the test in a strict sense; however, their presence might have made it easier for him to provide the answers we were looking for, since he would have been more in tune with their environment. Up to this point, they hadn’t had any sessions with a medium at all. Given the presence of his mother and me, and considering the weight of some of his recent experiences, it’s not surprising to me that the responses were only partially satisfactory; although, I actually think they were quite good. In any case, this prompted his brothers to set up some sessions with a table at home on their own.
CHAPTER 10
RECORD IN PROGRESS
I might make many more extracts from this sitting
of 22 October, of which a short extract has just been
quoted, because, though not specially evidential,
they have instructive and so to speak common-sense
features, but it is impossible to include everything. I
will therefore omit most of it, but quote a little, not
because it is evidential, but because what is said may be
instructive to inquirers.
I could pull many more quotes from this session on October 22, which I've just briefly mentioned, because, even though they aren’t particularly proof of anything, they have valuable and, in a way, straightforward aspects. However, I can’t include everything. So, I’ll leave out most of it but will share a little, not because it serves as evidence, but because it might be helpful for those who are looking into it.
FROM O. J. L. AND M. F. A. L. SITTING WITH
MRS. LEONARD, 22 OCTOBER 1915
He wants to gather evidence and give something clearly. He seems to think that his brother had been coming here (looking about).
He wants to collect proof and show something clearly. He seems to believe that his brother has been coming here (looking around).
O. J. L.—Your brother will come to see you to-morrow. [He was not coming to Mrs. Leonard.]
O. J. L.—Your brother will come to see you tomorrow. [He wasn't coming to Mrs. Leonard.]
Where is he? He got the impression that he had either been here or should be here now; he has got the thought of him. He has been trying to get into touch with him himself; he has been trying to speak to him. Seems to have something to do with Mrs. Kathie,[19] and he has tried to write to him. The trouble is, that he can't always see distinctly. He feels in the air, but can't see always distinctly. (To M. F. A. L.) When you are sitting at the table he sees you, and can see what you have got on. When he tries to come to you, he can only sense you; but at the table he can see you.
Where is he? He feels like he’s either been here before or should be here now; he keeps thinking about him. He’s been trying to reach out to him directly; he’s been trying to talk to him. It seems to be connected to Mrs. Kathie,[19] and he’s attempted to write to him. The problem is, he can't always see clearly. He senses things in the atmosphere but can't always make them out. (To M. F. A. L.) When you’re sitting at the table, he can see you and what you’re wearing. When he tries to get closer to you, he can only feel your presence; but at the table, he can actually see you.
O. J. L.—Has he seen his brothers at a table?
O. J. L.—Has he seen his brothers at a table?
No, not at the table. He sensed them, and he thought they were trying to speak to him; but didn't feel as if he was going to get near. It has something to do with a medium. Medium. [Meaning that they were trying to do without a medium.]
No, not at the table. He felt their presence and thought they were trying to communicate with him, but he didn’t feel like he could get close. It has something to do with a medium. Medium. [Meaning that they were trying to do it without a medium.]
M. F. A. L.—When did he see me?
M. F. A. L.—When did he see me?
When a medium is present he sees you quite distinctly. He saw you, not here, but at another place. Oh, it was in London, another place in London, some time ago. He was surprised to see you, and wondered how he could. [Presumably the occasion intended was when Mrs. Kennedy, who herself has power, was present as well as Peters.] He can only think the things he wants to say.[20] [Then reverting to his brothers' attempts at Mariemont.] "Tell them to go on. I shall never get tired. Never! Tell them to have patience. It is more interesting to me than to them." He does not seem sure if he got anything through. It is so peculiar. Even here, he is not always quite certain that he has said what he wanted to say, except sometimes when it is clear and you jump at it. Sometimes then he feels, "I've got that home, anyway!" He has got to feel his way. They must go easy with him—not ask too much all at once. If they have plenty of patience, in a while he will be able to come and talk as if he were there.
When a medium is present, he can see you quite clearly. He noticed you, not here, but somewhere else. Oh, it was in London, another spot in London, some time ago. He was surprised to see you and wondered how that was possible. [Presumably, the occasion intended was when Mrs. Kennedy, who herself has abilities, was present along with Peters.] He can only express the things he wants to say.[20] [Then reverting to his brothers' attempts at Mariemont.] "Tell them to keep going. I will never get tired. Never! Tell them to be patient. It’s more interesting to me than to them." He doesn't seem sure if he got anything across. It's so strange. Even here, he's not always completely certain that he's said what he intended, except sometimes when it’s clear and you respond immediately. At those times, he feels, "I've got that home, anyway!" He has to feel his way through it. They need to be gentle with him—not to ask too much all at once. If they have enough patience, eventually he will be able to come and talk as if he were really there.
M. F. A. L.—Do you mean with the voice?
M. F. A. L.—Are you talking about the voice?
No, with the table.
No, with the table.
More important than talking is to get things through with his own people, and to give absolute evidence. He doesn't want them to bother him with test questions till he feels at home. It doesn't matter here, where there is a medium, but the conditions there are not yet good. Tell them to take for granted that it is he, and later on he will be able to talk to them and say all he wishes to say. The boys are so eager to get tests. When grandpapa comes, it is to relieve him a little, while he is not there. He doesn't himself want to speak.
More important than talking is getting things sorted out with his own people and providing solid proof. He doesn’t want them to hassle him with test questions until he feels comfortable. It doesn’t matter here, where there’s a medium, but the conditions there aren’t good yet. Tell them to assume it’s him, and later on he’ll be able to talk to them and say everything he wants to say. The boys are really eager to get tests. When grandpa arrives, it’s to give him a bit of a break while he’s not around. He doesn’t want to speak himself.
Twice a week, he says.
Two times a week, he says.
He is bringing a girl with him now—a young girl, growing up in the spirit world. She belongs to Raymond: long golden hair, pretty tall, slight, brings a lily in her hand. There is another spirit too who passed out very young—a boy; you wouldn't know him as he is now; he looks about the same age as Raymond, but very spiritual in appearance; he brings a W with him; he doesn't know much of the earth plane, nor the lily either; he passed over too young. They are both with Raymond now. They look spiritual and young. Spirit people look young if they passed on young. Raymond is in the middle between them. He says this is not very scientific. [All this is appropriate to a deceased brother and sister; the brother older, the sister younger.]
He’s bringing a girl with him now—a young girl, growing up in the spirit world. She belongs to Raymond: long golden hair, pretty tall, slender, holding a lily in her hand. There's another spirit too who died very young—a boy; you wouldn't recognize him as he is now; he looks about the same age as Raymond, but very spiritual in appearance; he brings a W with him; he doesn’t know much about the earthly plane, or the lily either; he passed over too young. They are both with Raymond now. They look spiritual and youthful. Spirit people appear young if they passed on young. Raymond is in the middle between them. He says this isn’t very scientific. [All this is appropriate to a deceased brother and sister; the brother older, the sister younger.]
Raymond really is happy now. He doesn't say this to make you feel satisfied. He is really happy now. He says [ 160] this is most interesting, and is going to be fifty times more interesting than on the earth plane. There is such a big field to work in. Father and he are going to do such a lot together. He says, "I am going to help for all I am worth." (To M. F. A. L.) If you are happy, I will be happier too. You used to sigh; it had an awful effect on him, but he is getting lighter with you. Father has been wonderful. He is often with Paulie, and has been to see Mrs. Kathie too.
Raymond is really happy now. He doesn't say this to make you feel good. He is genuinely happy now. He says [ 160] this is incredibly interesting, and it's going to be a whole lot more interesting than life on Earth. There's such a vast area to explore. He and Father are going to accomplish so much together. He says, "I'm going to help with everything I have." (To M. F. A. L.) If you’re happy, I’ll be even happier. You used to sigh; that really affected him, but he's feeling lighter around you now. Father has been amazing. He often spends time with Paulie and has also visited Mrs. Kathie.
[Meaning Mrs. Katherine Kennedy. Feda, of course, is speaking throughout.]
[Meaning Mrs. Katherine Kennedy. Feda is obviously speaking the entire time.]
M. F. A. L.—Which way does he find the easiest to come?
M. F. A. L.—Which way does he find the easiest to get here?
He is able to get to you by impression, and not only by writing. He thinks he can make you hear. He is trying to make you clair-audient. Let there be no misapprehension about that. He does it in order to help himself. He hopes to get something through.
He can reach you by his presence, not just through his writing. He believes he can make you listen. He’s trying to awaken your inner hearing. There should be no misunderstanding about that. He does it for his own benefit. He hopes to convey something.
O. J. L.—You might send the same thing through different channels.
O. J. L.—You could share the same thing through various channels.
Yes, he says. He need not say much, but is going to think it out. He can get Mrs. K. to write it out, and then get it through the table with them. He thinks he will be able to do a lot with you, Mrs. Kathie. You know that Paulie's here?
Yes, he says. He doesn't need to say much, but he’s going to work it out. He can have Mrs. K. write it down, and then present it to them at the table. He believes he will be able to accomplish a lot with you, Mrs. Kathie. Did you know that Paulie is here?
(K. K. spoke to Paul for a short time.)
(K. K. talked to Paul for a brief moment.)
O. J. L.—Do you think it had better be tried on the same evening, or on different evenings?
O. J. L.—Do you think it would be better to try it on the same evening, or on different evenings?
Try it on the same evening at first, and see what success is got; if only one word came through the same, he would be very pleased. He might get one word first, then two, then two or three. Tell them to reserve a little time for just that, and give him some time specially for it, not mix it up with other things in the sittings.
Try it on the same evening at first and see what success you get; if even one word comes through, he’ll be very pleased. He might get one word first, then two, maybe two or three. Tell them to set aside a little time just for that, and give him some time specifically for it, not to mix it up with other things during the sessions.
K. K.—Shall I ask him to write some word?
K. K.—Should I ask him to write something?
He will think of some word—no matter if it is meaningless. What you have to do is, not to doubt, but take it down. One word might be much more valuable than a long oration. One word would do, no matter how silly it sounded; even if it is only a jumble, so long as it is the same jumble. He is jumping now. [Meaning, he is pleased with the idea.] He says he finds it difficult owing to the medium. He is not able to get through all he wants to say, but on the whole thinks he got it pretty straight to-night.
He will come up with a word—regardless of whether it has any meaning. What you need to do is not to doubt, but to write it down. One word can be way more valuable than a lengthy speech. Just one word will do, no matter how silly it sounds; even if it’s just a mess, as long as it’s the same mess. He’s excited now. [Meaning, he’s happy with the idea.] He says he finds it challenging because of the medium. He can’t express everything he wants to say, but overall he thinks he conveyed it pretty clearly tonight.
[The quickness with which the communicator jumped at the idea of a cross-correspondence was notable, because I do not think he had known anything about them. It sounded rather like the result of rapid Myersian instruction. I rather doubt if cross-correspondences of this kind can be got through Mrs. Kennedy, though she knows we are going to try for them. The boys are quite willing to take [ 161] down any jumble, but she herself likes to understand what she gets, and automatically rejects gibberish.—O. J. L.]
The speed at which the communicator embraced the idea of a cross-correspondence was impressive, especially since I don’t think he knew anything about them. It felt like a quick lesson in Myersian concepts. I’m not certain if we can get this kind of cross-correspondence through Mrs. Kennedy, even though she knows we’re going to attempt it. The guys are fully committed to sorting out any confusion, but she prefers to understand what she receives and automatically dismisses any nonsense.—O. J. L.
On 13 October, through the kind arrangement of Mrs. Kennedy, we had an anonymous sitting with a medium new to us, a Mrs. Brittain, of Hanley, Staffordshire, in Mrs. Kennedy's house.
On October 13, thanks to Mrs. Kennedy's thoughtful setup, we had an anonymous session with a medium we hadn't met before, Mrs. Brittain from Hanley, Staffordshire, at Mrs. Kennedy's home.
It was not very successful—the medium seemed tired and worried—but there were a few evidential points obtained, though little or nothing about the boy; in the waking stage, however, she said that some one was calling the name 'Raymond.'
It wasn't very successful—the medium looked exhausted and anxious—but they did get a few pieces of evidence, although there was hardly anything about the boy. In the waking state, though, she said that someone was calling the name 'Raymond.'
At an interview next day with Mrs. Kennedy, Mrs. Brittain said that a boy named 'Pat' had come with Paul to see her on the evening after the sitting (see p. 148 for the significance of 'Pat'); and she described it in writing to Mrs. Kennedy thus:—
At an interview the next day with Mrs. Kennedy, Mrs. Brittain mentioned that a boy named 'Pat' had come with Paul to see her on the evening after the meeting (see p. 148 for the significance of 'Pat'); and she described it in writing to Mrs. Kennedy like this:—
14 October 1915
14 October 1915
"I was just resting, thinking over the events of the day, and worrying just a little about my ordeal of next Monday, when I became conscious of the presence of such a dear soldier boy. He said, 'I am Pat, and oh, I did want to speak to my mother.' Then I saw with him your dear boy [Paul]; he asked me to tell you about Pat, and to give the message to his father that he would get proof without seeking it."
"I was resting and thinking about the day's events, feeling a bit anxious about what I had to deal with next Monday when I noticed a sweet soldier boy nearby. He said, 'I'm Pat, and I really wanted to talk to my mom.' Then I saw your dear boy [Paul] with him; he asked me to share information about Pat and to tell his dad that he would get proof without needing to search for it."
Chapter 11
FIRST SITTING OF ALEC (A. M. L.)
Introduction by O. J. L.
A WORD may be necessary about the attitude of Raymond's family to the whole subject. It may be thought that my own known interest in the subject was naturally shared by the family, but that is not so. So far as I can judge, it had rather the opposite effect; and not until they had received unmistakable proof, devised largely by themselves, was this healthy scepticism ultimately broken down.
A word may be necessary about Raymond's family's attitude toward the entire subject. One might assume that my well-known interest in the topic was shared by the family, but that's not the case. From what I can tell, it had quite the opposite effect; it wasn't until they received clear proof, largely created by themselves, that this healthy skepticism was finally overcome.
My wife had had experience with Mrs. Piper in 1889, though she continued very sceptical till 1906 or thereabouts, when she had some extraordinarily good evidence. But none of this experience was shared by the family, who read neither my nor anyone else's books on the subject, and had no first-hand evidence. For the most part they regarded it without interest and with practical scepticism. If in saying this I convey the impression of anything like friction or disappointment, the impression is totally false. Life was full of interest of many kinds, and, until Raymond's death, there was no need for them to think twice about survival or the possibility of communication.
My wife had experience with Mrs. Piper in 1889, but she remained quite skeptical until around 1906, when she received some incredibly convincing evidence. However, none of this was shared by the family, who neither read my books nor anyone else's on the topic and had no direct experience. Mostly, they viewed it with indifference and practical skepticism. If I sound like there was any kind of tension or disappointment, that’s completely inaccurate. Life was full of various interests, and until Raymond's death, there was no reason for them to reconsider the ideas of survival or the possibility of communication.
The first sitting held by any of his brothers, apart from private amateur attempts at home,—the first sitting, I may say, held by any of them with any medium,—took place on 23 October, when Alec had a sitting with Peters; his mother also was present, but no names were given. Alec's record of this sitting, together with his preliminary Note, I propose to quote practically in full.
The first session held by any of his brothers, aside from casual attempts at home—the first session, I should say, held by any of them with any medium—took place on October 23, when Alec had a session with Peters; his mother was also present, but no names were mentioned. Alec's account of this session, along with his initial Note, I plan to quote almost in full.
Alec and his mother went in the morning to Mrs. Kennedy's house, where the sitting was to take place. M. F. A. L. stopped on the way to buy a bunch of violets, which she put on Peters' table. When he arrived and saw them, he was very pleased; ejaculated "my flower," and said that he could not have had anything that gave him more pleasure.
Alec and his mom went to Mrs. Kennedy’s house in the morning for the sitting. M. F. A. L. stopped along the way to buy a bunch of violets, which she put on Peters' table. When he arrived and saw them, he was really happy; he exclaimed, "my flower," and said he couldn’t have asked for anything that brought him more happiness.
I may here remark, incidentally, that Peters is a man who takes his mediumship seriously, and tries to regulate his life so as to get good conditions. Thus, he goes into the country at intervals, and stops all work for a time to recuperate. He lives, in fact, at Westgate-on-Sea, and only has a room in London. He seems to lead a simple life altogether, and his "control" spoke of his [ 163] having been prepared since six o'clock that morning for this sitting.
I should mention that Peters is someone who takes his mediumship seriously and tries to organize his life to create the best conditions for it. He frequently goes to the countryside and takes breaks from work to recharge. He actually lives in Westgate-on-Sea and only has a room in London. Overall, he seems to lead a simple life, and his "control" mentioned that he had been prepared since six o'clock that morning for this session.
Alec went up prepared to take notes, and after the sitting
wrote the following preliminary account:—
Alec went up ready to take notes, and after the meeting, wrote the following preliminary account:—
A. M. L.'s Remarks on the Sitting
Mother and I arrived at Mrs. Kennedy's house at five minutes to eleven. We saw Mrs. Kennedy, who asked us if we would like her to be present. We said yes. Then she told us that Peters had come, and that she would ask him. Peters wanted her to be present.
Mother and I got to Mrs. Kennedy's house at five minutes to eleven. We met Mrs. Kennedy, who asked us if we wanted her to be there. We said yes. Then she informed us that Peters had arrived, and that she would invite him in. Peters wanted her to be there too.
Mrs. Kennedy brought Peters up; he shook hands, without any introduction. We had all gone up to Mrs. Kennedy's private room, where Peters likes the sittings to take place. We four sat round a table about four feet in diameter. A. and M. with backs to one or other of the two windows, K. and P. more or less facing them. A. was opposite P.; M. was opposite K. There was plenty of light, but the room was partly shaded by pulling down blinds. They talked about street noises at first. P. held K.'s and M.'s hands for a time. K. and M. talked together a little. P. now moved about a little and rubbed his face and eyes. Suddenly he jerked himself up and began talking in broken English.
Mrs. Kennedy brought Peters in; he shook hands without any introduction. We all went up to Mrs. Kennedy's private room, where Peters prefers the meetings to happen. The four of us sat around a table about four feet across. A. and M. had their backs to one of the two windows, while K. and P. were more or less facing them. A. was across from P.; M. was across from K. There was plenty of light, but the room was partially shaded by pulled-down blinds. At first, they talked about the sounds from the street. P. held K.'s and M.'s hands for a while. K. and M. chatted a bit. Then P. moved around a bit and rubbed his face and eyes. Suddenly, he straightened up and started talking in broken English.
During the trance his eyes were apparently closed all the time; and when speaking to anyone he 'looked' at them with his eyelids screwed up. Sometimes a change of control occurred. While that was taking place, he sat quiet, and usually held K.'s and M.'s hands until another sudden jerk occurred, when he let go and started talking.
During the trance, his eyes were seemingly closed the whole time; and when he spoke to someone, he 'looked' at them with his eyelids tightly shut. Sometimes there was a change in control. When that happened, he sat still and usually held K.'s and M.'s hands until another quick jolt occurred, at which point he let go and started talking.
The sitting was rather disjointed, and most of it apparently not of much importance, but for a few minutes in the middle it was very impressive. It then felt to me exactly as if my hand was being held in both Raymond's, and as if Raymond himself was speaking in his own voice. My right hand was being held, but even if I had had it free I could not possibly have taken notes under the circumstances.
The meeting was pretty disorganized, and most of it didn't seem too important, but for a few minutes in the middle, it was really striking. It felt to me exactly like my hand was being held in both of Raymond's, and it felt like Raymond himself was speaking in his own voice. My right hand was being held, but even if I had had it free, I definitely couldn’t have taken notes in that situation.
(M. F. A. L. adds that neither could she nor anyone, while that part of the sitting was going on.)
(M. F. A. L. adds that neither she nor anyone else could do so while that part of the sitting was going on.)
Peters spoke often very quickly, and sometimes indistinctly, so that the notes are rather incomplete.
Peters often spoke very quickly and sometimes unclearly, making the notes rather incomplete.
(To this O. J. L. adds that it was Alec's first experience
of a sitting, and that, even with experience, it is
difficult to take anything like full notes.)
(To this O. J. L. adds that it was Alec's first experience of a sitting, and that, even with experience, it is difficult to take anything like full notes.)
Report of Peters Sitting in Mrs. Kennedy's Room, at
11 a.m. on Saturday, 23 October 1915
(Revised by the Sitters)
(Revised by the Sitters)
Present—Mrs. Kennedy (K. K.), Lady Lodge (M. F. A. L.),
Alec M. Lodge, and the Medium—Vout Peters
Present—Ms. Kennedy (K. K.), Lady Lodge (M. F. A. L.),
Alec M. Lodge, and the Medium—Vout Peters
Report by A. M. L.
Report by A. M. L.
In a short time Peters went into trance, and 'Moonstone' was understood to be taking control. He first made some general remarks:—
In a short time, Peters went into a trance, and 'Moonstone' was understood to be taking over. He started with some general comments:—
Good morning! I generally say, "Good evening," don't I? Don't be afraid for Medie; he has been prepared since six o'clock this morning. Magnetism has to be stored up, and therefore it is best to use the same room and the same furniture every time.
Good morning! I usually say, "Good evening," right? Don’t worry about Medie; he’s been ready since six this morning. Magnetism needs to be conserved, so it’s best to use the same room and the same furniture each time.
Then he spoke to K. K.:—
Then he spoke to K. K.:—
Will you call on little woman close to? It will mean salvation to two people. [Abbreviated.]
Will you visit the little woman nearby? It will mean salvation for both of us. [Abbreviated.]
(K. K. understood.)
(K. K. got it.)
Then the medium took M.'s hand.
Then the medium held M.'s hand.
Somebody not easy to describe; old lady; not tall; grey hair, parted in centre; grey eyes; nose thin; mouth fairly large and full. This describes her as she was before she passed away. Had big influence on your early life. Good character; loving, but perhaps lived in narrow outlook; not only a mother to her own belongings, but she mothered every man, woman, or child she came into contact with. She is here this morning and has been before. Is it not your Mother?
Somebody hard to describe; an old lady; not tall; gray hair, parted in the middle; gray eyes; thin nose; mouth fairly large and full. This is how she was before she passed away. She had a big impact on your early life. She had a good character; loving, but perhaps held a narrow perspective; not just a mother to her own children, but she cared for every man, woman, or child she encountered. She is here this morning and has been here before. Isn't it your Mother?
M. F. A. L.—If it is my Mother, it is a great pleasure to me.
M.F.A.L.—If it’s my mom, that makes me really happy.
She has been with you and comforted you through this trial.
She has been with you and supported you through this tough time.
She has been, and will go on, looking after the boy. You must not think she is not just as much with you because she has no body. She is just as much your mother. She has a body, though it is different.
She has been, and will continue to, look after the boy. Don’t think that she isn't just as much with you because she has no physical form. She is still very much your mother. She does have a body, though it's different.
(Pointing to A.) She is related to him. She puts her hand on his shoulder. She is very proud of what he is doing at the present time. He has been a great help to you. Since the passing away of him who is loved by you both, he has looked on spiritualism with much more respect, because previously it has not touched his heart. It is not only a thing of the head, it is now a thing of the heart.
(Pointing to A.) She is related to him. She puts her hand on his shoulder. She is really proud of what he’s doing right now. He has been a great help to you. Since the loss of the person you both loved, he has come to respect spiritualism much more, because before it didn't resonate with him. It’s not just an intellectual concept anymore; it's now something that speaks to the heart.
She suffered terribly before passing away. She bore her suffering patiently.
She endured a lot before she passed away. She handled her suffering with patience.
She put her finger on her lips and says: "I am so proud of O.!" (Medium puts one finger on middle of lips.)
She put her finger to her lips and said, "I'm so proud of O.!" (Medium places one finger in the middle of her lips.)
It has always been what I thought: the triumph (?) has been a long time coming, but it will come greater than had been anticipated. There have been difficulties. I am glad of success. It will come greater than before. The book that is to be will be written from the heart, and not the head. But the book will not be written now. Not now! Not now! Not now! (loud). Written later on. The Book which is going to help many and convert many. The work done already is big. But what is coming is bigger.
It’s always been what I believed: the victory has been a long time coming, but it will be greater than expected. There have been challenges. I'm grateful for the success. It will be bigger than before. The book that will be written will come from the heart, not the mind. But that book won't be written right now. Not right now! Not right now! Not right now! (loud). It will be written later. The Book that's going to help and inspire many. The work done so far is significant. But what’s coming is even bigger.
(Interval.)
(Intermission.)
(Paul, sending a message to K. K.:—)
(Paul, sending a message to K. K.:—)
I have been drilling her to link up. You don't know what it is. It is like teaching people to transmit messages by the telegraph. Don't let the boy come, let Granny come. (The medium here imitated Paul's manner of sitting down and pulling up the knees of his trousers.) She laughs at the idea of being drilled.
I’ve been pushing her to connect. You don’t know what it’s like. It’s like teaching people to send messages via telegraph. Don’t let the boy come; let Granny come instead. (The medium here copied Paul’s way of sitting down and pulling up his pant legs.) She finds the idea of being pushed to learn amusing.
He says (Paul still communicating): You know, [ 166] little Mother, you wonder why I was taken; but it is a great deal better like this. Thousands of people can be helped like this. You are the link, and the means of reaching thousands of mothers.
He says (Paul still communicating): You know, [ 166] little Mother, you’re curious about why I was taken; but it's much better this way. Thousands of people can be helped through this. You are the connection and the way to reach thousands of mothers.
(Then 'Moonstone' was understood to say:—)
(Then 'Moonstone' was understood to say:—)
Returning to Madam (i.e. the old lady again, and medium turning to M. F. A. L.), she says: "I am so glad you not only told him what you did—this is not to you but some one away (finger on lips), somebody she will not give—and reached out as you did."
Returning to Madam (i.e. the old lady again, and medium turning to M. F. A. L.), she says: "I’m really glad you not only told him what you did—this isn’t directed at you but someone else (finger on lips), someone she won’t reveal—and extended your hand like you did."
This is from Madam. She is going away.
This is from Madam. She's leaving.
M. F. A. L.—My love to her.
M.F.A.L.—My love for her.
No, no, no, she does not go away; she stands back, to let some one else come forward—like actors take turns at a theatre.
No, no, no, she doesn't leave; she steps back to let someone else come forward—like actors take turns on stage.
[Then an impersonation of my Uncle Jerry was represented, with the statement, "Your husband will know who he is"; but this part of the record is omitted as comparatively unimportant. It was unintelligible to the sitter.—O. J. L.]
[Then someone acted like my Uncle Jerry, saying, "Your husband will know who he is"; however, this part of the record is omitted since it's considered less important. It didn't make sense to the person getting the message.—O. J. L.]
(Then a new control came in, which was by K. K. understood to be 'Redfeather.' When he arrived, the medium smacked his hands and spoke to K. K.:—)
(Then a new control arrived, which K. K. understood to be 'Redfeather.' When he got there, the medium clapped his hands and spoke to K. K.:—)
I come dis little minute to try experiment. If we succeed, all right; if we don't, don't mind. There will be some difficulties.
I come here for just a moment to try an experiment. If we succeed, great; if not, it’s no big deal. There will be some challenges.
You know me? (To K. K.)
You know me? (To K. K.)
K. K.—Yes. It is 'Redfeather.'
K. K.—Yes. It's 'Redfeather.'
Glad to see you better. You used to feel—a hand on your head. It was a little girl. It was your boy who brought her. Now I go. Just talk a little.
Glad to see you're feeling better. You used to feel—someone's hand on your head. It was a little girl. It was your son who brought her. Now I’m leaving. Just wanted to chat a bit.
(K. K. then thanked the speaker for his help.)
(K. K. then thanked the speaker for his help.)
Who could help better than me?
Who could help better than I?
... long ago I was killed.
... a long time ago, I was killed.
Who could help better?
Who could help more?
(Then there was an interval, and evident change of control. And speech very indistinct at first.)
Then there was a pause, and the control shifted noticeably. The speech was really unclear at first.
I want to come.
I want to go.
Call Mother to help me.
Call Mom to help me.
Because you know.
Because you know.
You understand.
You get it.
It wasn't so bad.
It wasn't that bad.
Not so bad.
Not too bad.
I knew you knew the possibility of communicating, so when I went out as I did, I was in a better condition than others on the other side. We had often talked about this subject, father understanding it as he did; and now, coming into touch with his strength, makes it easy.
I knew you were aware of the possibility of communicating, so when I left like I did, I was in a better position than others on the other side. We had often discussed this topic, with Dad understanding it as he did; and now, connecting with his strength makes it easier.
(Medium here reached out across the table to A. and grasped his right hand, so that the notes were temporarily interrupted. The medium's arms were now both stretched out across the table, with his head down on them, and he held A.'s hand in both his. All this time he spoke with great emotion: the medium was shaken with sobs; his head and neck were suffused with blood; the whole circumstances were strained, and strongly emotional; and the voice was extraordinarily like Raymond's. A., too, felt that his hands were being gripped in a grasp just like Raymond's. This was the central part of the sitting; and for the time no notes could be taken, even by Mrs. Kennedy. But after a bit the hand was released, the strain rather lightened, and notes continue which run thus:—)
The medium reached across the table to A. and took his right hand, pausing the notes for a moment. With his arms stretched out over the table, the medium rested his head on them while holding A.'s hand with both of his. Throughout this, he spoke with deep emotion: the medium was shaking with sobs, his head and neck flushed with blood; the whole situation was charged with feeling, and his voice closely resembled Raymond's. A. also felt that his hands were being held with a grip just like Raymond's. This was the pivotal moment of the session; at that point, no notes could be taken, not even by Mrs. Kennedy. But after a while, the grip loosened, the tension faded, and the notes resumed as follows:—
[A. M. L. says, "In time the interval was brief," but it was surcharged with emotion, strongly felt by all present.]
[A. M. L. says, "In the end, the wait was brief," but it was filled with strong emotions, deeply felt by everyone present.]
But no, wait.
But hold on.
Because they tell me.
Because they inform me.
I am not ashamed.
I'm not ashamed.
I am glad.
I'm happy.
I tell you, I would do it again.
I swear, I would do it again.
I realise things differently to what one saw here.
I see things differently than what was seen here.
And oh, thank God, I can speak!
And oh, thank goodness, I can talk!
But ——
But — —
The boys help me.
The guys help me.
You don't know what he has done.
You have no idea what he has done.
Who could help?
Who can help?
But I must keep quiet, I promised them to keep calm.
But I have to stay quiet; I promised them I would stay calm.
The time is so short.
Time is running out.
Tell father that I am happy.
Tell Dad I'm happy.
That I am happy that he has not come.
That I'm glad he hasn't come.
If he had come here, I couldn't have spoken.
If he had come here, I wouldn't have been able to talk.
I find it difficult to express what I want.
I have a hard time saying what I want.
Every time I come back it is easier.
Every time I come back, it gets easier.
The only thing that was hard was just before.
The only thing that was difficult was right before that.
The 15th, do you understand?
The 15th, do you get it?
And the 12th.
And the 12th.
[We do not clearly understand these dates.]
[We don't completely understand these dates.]
But every time I come it is better.
But each time I come, it gets better.
Grandmamma helped or I couldn't.
Grandma helped or I couldn't.
Now I must go.
I have to leave now.
—— broken ——
—— broken ——
But I have done it, thank God!
But I did it, thank God!
(Then this special control ended; while the medium murmured, as to himself, first the word 'John,' and then the word 'God.' Then the strain was relieved by a new control, understood to be 'Biddy.')
Then this special control ended; while the medium murmured, as if to himself, first the name 'John,' and then the name 'God.' After that, the tension was eased by a new control, known to be 'Biddy.'
Surely it's meself that has come to speak. Here's another mother. I am helping the boy. I said to him to come out.
Surely it's me who's come to talk. Here's another mother. I'm helping the boy. I told him to come out.
(To A. M. L.) Just you go and do your work. When the boy comes as he did, it upsets the body. I come to help to soothe the nerves of the medium. It is a privilege to help. I am an old Irishwoman.
(To A. M. L.) Just go ahead and do your work. When the boy shows up like he did, it disturbs everyone. I come to help calm the medium's nerves. It's a privilege to assist. I’m an old Irish woman.
(To K. K.) You don't realise that the world is governed by chains, and that you are one of the links. I was a washerwoman and lived next a church, and they say cleanliness comes next to godliness! One of my chains is to help mothers. Well, I am going. But for comfort,—the boy is glad he is come. (To K. K.) Your husband is a fine man. I love him. His [ 169] heart's as big as his body, and it is not only medicine, but love that he dispenses.
(To K. K.) You don't realize that the world is controlled by connections, and that you are one of the links. I was a washerwoman and lived next to a church, and they say cleanliness is next to godliness! One of my responsibilities is to help mothers. Well, I’m heading out. But for comfort—the boy is happy he’s here. (To K.K.) Your husband is a great man. I admire him. His [ 169] heart is as generous as his size, and he offers not just medicine, but also love.
(Then an interval; and another control—probably 'Moonstone' again, or else Peters himself clairvoyantly:—)
(Then there was a pause; and another check—probably 'Moonstone' again, or maybe Peters himself picking up on the vibe psychically:)
We succeeded a little in our experiment.
We had some success in our experiment.
Now the boy is with....
Now the boy is with...
(Here the medium seized both Alec's hands, and K. K. continues the notes.)
(Here the medium took both Alec's hands, and K. K. keeps taking notes.)
[But they may be abbreviated here, as they represent only Peters's ordinary clairvoyance—probably.]
[However, they can be made shorter here, as they simply reflect Peters's typical clairvoyance—most likely.]
You bring with you a tremendous force. You don't always say what you think. A quick way of making up your mind. Your intuitional force is very strong. Your mind is very evenly balanced, [and so on].... The last three months, things have altered. It has stirred you to the depths of your innermost being. You had no idea how strong the bond was between you and one who has been here to-day. Want to shield and take care of your mother. You know her devotion to both you and the one gone over....
You carry a huge energy with you. You don't always express your thoughts. You're quick to make decisions. Your intuition is very powerful. Your mind is quite balanced, [and so on]... Over the last three months, things have changed. It has deeply affected you. You didn’t realize how strong the connection was between you and the person who was here today. You want to protect and care for your mom. You understand her dedication to both you and the one who has passed...
The one gone over is a brother. He wants to send a message.
The one who left is a brother. He wants to send a message.
(Some messages omitted.)
(Some messages omitted.)
You did not cry, but heart crying inside.
You didn’t cry, but your heart was crying inside.
Help others. You are doing it. If you ever tried to do what he did, you would physically break down. All this is from him.
Help others. You’re doing it. If you ever tried to do what he did, you would physically break down. All of this is from him.
(To Mother) So glad about the photograph. Something you have had done that is satisfactory.
(To Mother) I'm really happy about the photograph. It's something you had done that turned out great.
[This is good, but it only occurred to me to-day, 31 October. It evidently relates to two photographs in a pocket case, found on his body, which Raymond carried with him, and which had been returned to the original by us.—A. M. L.]
[This is good, but I just came up with it today, October 31. It clearly relates to two photos in a pocket case that was found on his body, which Raymond had with him, and which we returned to the original owner.—A. M. L.]
Wants to convey message to father, but it is not about himself this time. I get the initials F W M—not clear about all the letters—but F M wishes to be remembered. He says: I am still very [ 170] active. Get into touch with Crookes re the Wireless.
Wants to send a message to his dad, but it's not about himself this time. I get the initials F W M—not sure about all the letters—but F M wants to be remembered. He says: I am still very [ 170] active. Get in touch with Crookes regarding the Wireless.
[O. J. L. was at Muirhead's works in Kent on this subject, at this moment.—A. M. L.]
[O. J. L. is currently at Muirhead's factory in Kent discussing this topic.—A. M. L.]
Still active, still at work.
Still active, still working.
[Spoken like "I see you are still active, still at work."—A. M. L.]
"Looks like you're still busy and hard at work."—A. M. L.
Then he gives me a curious thing, and laughs. One of the things I am most proud of is "St. Paul."
Then he gives me an interesting thing and laughs. One of the things I’m most proud of is "St. Paul."
[This puzzled K. K., the note-taker.]
[This left K. K., the note-taker, puzzled.]
(To Alec.) So glad you came, boy! What a lot you think!
(To Alec.) So glad you made it, kid! You really have a lot on your mind!
(Medium came-to, breathing and struggling. Said he had been under very deep—like coming-to after an anæsthetic.)
Medium woke up, gasping and struggling to breathe. He said he had been out __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__—like waking up after being under anesthesia.
NOTE BY O. J. L.
Lady Lodge impressed me considerably with the genuine and deeply affecting character of the above episode of personal control. It was evidently difficult to get over for the rest of the day. I doubt if the bare record conveys much: though it may to people of like experience.
Lady Lodge left a strong impression on me with the genuine and deeply moving nature of the personal control episode mentioned above. It was clearly hard to move past it for the rest of the day. I doubt the simple account really conveys much, though it may resonate with those who have had similar experiences.
Chapter 12
GENERAL COMMENTS ON CONVERSATIONAL
REPORTS AND ON CROSS-CORRESPONDENCES
IT may be asked why I report so much of what may be called ordinary conversation, instead of abbreviating and concentrating on specific instances and definite statements of fact. I reply:—
IT may be asked why I share so much of what could be considered ordinary conversation, instead of summarizing and focusing on specific examples and clear statements of fact. I respond:—
1. That a concentrated version is hard to read, while a fuller version is really less tedious in spite of its greater length. A record is always a poor substitute for actual experience; and too much abbreviation might destroy whatever relic of human interest the records possess.
1. A shorter version is tough to read, while a longer one is actually less boring despite being more extensive. A record can never replace real experience, and overly shortening it could take away any human interest the records might have.
2. That abbreviation runs the risk of garbling and amending; it is undesirable in reports of this kind to amend style at the expense of accuracy.
2. That abbreviation risks distorting and changing meaning; it's not ideal in reports like this to change style at the cost of accuracy.
3. That the mannerisms and eccentricities of a 'control' (or secondary personality) are interesting, and may be instructive; at any rate they exhibit to a novice the kind of thing to be expected.
3. The quirks and odd behaviors of a 'control' (or secondary personality) are intriguing and can be educational; in any case, they show a beginner what to expect.
4. A number of inquiries want to know—and I think properly want to know—what a sitting is like, what kind of subjects are talked about, what the 'communicators'—i.e. the hypothetical personalities who send messages through the 'control'—have to say about their own feelings and interests and state of existence generally. Hence, however the record be interpreted, it seems better to quote some specimens fully.
4. Several inquiries want to know—and I think it's reasonable to want to know—what a sitting is like, what topics are discussed, and what the 'communicators'—i.e. the hypothetical personalities who send messages through the 'control'—have to say about their own feelings, interests, and overall state of existence. Therefore, regardless of how the record is interpreted, it seems more effective to fully quote some examples.
5. I am aware that some of the records may appear absurd. Especially absurd will appear the free-and-easy statements, quoted later, about the nature of things 'on the other side,'—the kind of assertions which are not only unevidential but unverifiable, and which we usually either discourage or suppress. I have stated elsewhere my own [ 172] reasons for occasionally encouraging statements of this kind and quoting them as they stand. (See beginning of Chapter XVI.) And though I admit that to publish them is probably indiscreet, I still think that the evidence, such as it is, ought to be presented as a whole.
5. I know that some of the records might seem ridiculous. The casual statements, which will be quoted later, about the nature of things 'on the other side' will seem especially absurd — the kind of claims that are not only unproven but also impossible to verify, and which we usually either discourage or ignore. I've shared my own reasons for sometimes supporting statements like this and quoting them as they are. (See the beginning of Chapter XVI.) And although I admit that publishing them might be reckless, I still believe the evidence, for what it’s worth, should be presented in its entirety.
6. The most evidential class of utterance, what we call cross-correspondence, is not overlooked; and while every now and then it occurs naturally and spontaneously, sometimes an effort is made to obtain it.
6. The most substantial type of statement, which we refer to as cross-correspondence, is not ignored; and while it happens naturally and spontaneously from time to time, there are also times when an effort is made to achieve it.
Note on the Meaning of Cross-Correspondence
It will be convenient to explain that by the term "Cross-correspondence" is meant the obtaining through two or more independent mediums, at about the same time, a message from a single communicator on any one definite subject.
Let me clarify that when we say "Cross-correspondence," we’re talking about getting a message from one communicator on a specific topic through two or more independent mediums at roughly the same time.
It is usually impossible for the coincidence of time to be exact, because both mediums may not be sitting at the same time. But in some cases, wherein coincidence of subject is well marked, coincidence in time is of little moment; always provided that the subject is really an out-of-the-way or far-fetched one, and not one common to every English-speaking person, like Kitchener or Roberts or Jellicoe.
Exact timing is usually impossible because both people might not be available simultaneously. However, in cases where the topic is particularly notable, timing becomes less critical; as long as the subject is truly unique or obscure, and not something common to every English speaker, like Kitchener or Roberts or Jellicoe.
Cross-correspondences are of various grades. The simplest kind is when two mediums both use the same exceptional word, or both refer to the same non-public event, without any normal reason that can be assigned. Another variety is when, say, three mediums refer to one and the same idea in different terms,—employing, for instance, different languages, like 'mors,' 'death,' and 'thanatos.' (See Proc., S.P.R., xxii, 295-304.) Another is when the idea is thoroughly masked and brought in only by some quotation—perhaps by a quotation the special significance of which is unknown to the medium who reproduces it, and is only detected and interpreted by a subsequent investigator to whom all the records are submitted. Sometimes a quotation is maltreated, evidently with intention, by the communicator; the important word to which attention is being directed being either omitted or changed.
Cross-correspondences vary in complexity. The simplest form occurs when two mediums use the same unusual word or mention the same private event without a normal explanation. Another type happens when, for instance, three mediums refer to the same concept using different terms—in different languages like 'mors,' 'death,' and 'thanatos.' (See Proc., S.P.R., xxii, 295-304.) A more complex form is when the idea is completely obscured and only appears as a quote—sometimes a quote whose specific meaning is unknown to the medium repeating it, and is only recognized and understood by a later researcher who examines all the records. Occasionally, a quote is intentionally altered by the communicator; the key word that should stand out is either omitted or changed.
A large number of examples of this more complex kind of cross-correspondence are reported at length in the Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research; see especially vol. xxi. p. 369 and xxii. passim, or a briefer statement in Survival of Man, chap. xxv.
Many examples of this more complex type of cross-correspondence are discussed in detail in the Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research; see especially vol. xxi. p. 369 and xxii. passim, or a shorter summary in Survival of Man, chap. xxv.
Some of these instances as expounded by Mr. Piddington may seem extraordinarily complicated and purposely concealed. That is admitted. They are specially designed to eliminate the possibility of unintended and unconscious telepathy direct from one medium to another, and to throw the investigator back on what is [ 173] asserted to be the truth, namely that the mind of one single communicator, or the combined mind of a group of communicators,—all men of letters,—is sending carefully designed messages through different channels, in order to prove primarily the reality of the operating intelligence, and incidentally the genuineness of the mediums who are capable of receiving and transmitting fragments of messages so worded as to appear to each of them separately mere meaningless jargon; though ultimately when all the messages are put together by a skilled person the meaning is luminous enough. Moreover, we are assured that the puzzles and hidden allusions contained in these messages are not more difficult than literary scholars are accustomed to; that, indeed, they are precisely of similar order.
Some examples presented by Mr. Piddington may seem incredibly complex and deliberately hidden. This is true. They are specifically designed to eliminate any possibility of accidental or subconscious telepathy between mediums, forcing the investigator to rely on what is [ 173] claimed to be the truth: that a single communicator's mind, or the collective minds of a group of communicators—all literary figures—are sending carefully crafted messages through different channels. This is primarily to demonstrate the reality of the intelligence at work and, secondarily, to validate the authenticity of the mediums who can receive and relay parts of messages that might appear as nonsensical to each of them individually; however, when all the messages are pieced together by someone skilled, the meaning becomes clear. Moreover, we are informed that the puzzles and hidden references in these messages are no more challenging than what literary scholars commonly encounter; in fact, they are quite similar.
This explanation is unnecessary for the simple cross-correspondences (c.c.) sometimes obtained and reported here; but the subject itself is an important one, and is not always understood even by investigators, so I take this opportunity of referring to it in order to direct the attention of those who need stricter evidence to more profitable records.
This explanation isn't necessary for the simpler cross-correspondences (c.c.) occasionally found and reported here; however, the topic itself is significant and isn’t always clear, even to researchers. Therefore, I want to take this opportunity to highlight it for those who need more substantial evidence to produce more useful records.
General Note
Returning to the kind of family records here given, in which evidence is sporadic rather than systematic though none the less effective, one of the minor points, which yet is of interest, is the appropriate way in which different youths greet their relatives. Thus, while Paul calls his father 'Daddy' and his mother by pet names, as he used to; and while Raymond calls us simply 'Father' and 'Mother,' as he used to; another youth named Ralph—an athlete who had fallen after splendid service in the war—greeted his father, when at length that gentleman was induced to attend a sitting, with the extraordinary salutation "Ullo 'Erb!," spelt out as one word through the table; though, to the astonishment of the medium, it was admitted to be consistent and evidential. The ease and freedom with which this Ralph managed to communicate are astonishing, and I am tempted to add as an appendix some records which his family have kindly allowed me to see, but I refrain, as they have nothing to do with Raymond.
Returning to the type of family records presented here, where the evidence is hit or miss rather than organized, but still effective, one interesting detail is how different young men greet their relatives. For instance, Paul calls his dad 'Daddy' and his mom by affectionate nicknames, just like he used to; and Raymond refers to us as simply 'Father' and 'Mother,' as he did before. On the other hand, another young man named Ralph—an athlete who had a remarkable service in the war but fell afterwards—greeted his father, when he finally agreed to attend a session, with the unusual greeting "Ullo 'Erb!," spelled out as one word through the table; surprisingly, the medium found it to be consistent and meaningful. The way Ralph was able to communicate so easily is impressive, and I’m tempted to include some records that his family has kindly allowed me to see, but I'll hold back, as they are unrelated to Raymond.
CHAPTER 13
AN O. J. L. MEETING WITH PETERS
ON the 29th of October I had a sitting with Peters alone, unknown to the family, who I felt sure were still sceptical concerning the whole subject. It was arranged for, as an anonymous sitting, by my friend Mr. J. Arthur Hill of Bradford. The things said were remarkable, and distinctly pointed to clairvoyance. I am doubtful about reporting more than a few lines, however. There was a great deal that might be taken as encouraging and stimulating, intermixed with the more evidential portions. A small part of this sitting is already reported in Chapter III, and might now be read by anyone interested in the historical sequence.
ON October 29th, I had a private session with Peters, kept secret from the family, who I was sure still had doubts about the whole topic. This anonymous session was arranged by my friend Mr. J. Arthur Hill from Bradford. The insights shared were extraordinary and clearly pointed to clairvoyance. However, I'm hesitant to share more than a few lines. There was a lot that could be seen as encouraging and inspiring, mixed in with the more concrete evidence. A small part of this session has already been reported in Chapter III, and can now be read by anyone interested in the historical context.
A few unimportant opening lines I think it necessary to report, because of their connexion with another sitting:—
A few unimportant opening lines I feel it's important to mention due to their connection with another session:—
Anonymous O. J. L. Sitting with A. Vout Peters at 15
Devereux Court, Fleet Street, on Friday,
29 October 1915, from 10.30 to 11.45 a.m.
(Sitter only spoken of as a friend of Mr. Hill)[21]
(Sitter only spoken of as a friend of Mr. Hill)[21]
PETERS.—Before we begin, I must say something: I feel that I have a certain fear of you, I don't know what it is, but you affect me in a most curious way. I must tell you the honest truth before I am controlled....
PETERS.—Before we begin, I need to mention something: I have this unusual fear of you. I’m not really sure why, but you affect me in a really strange way. I have to be totally honest with you before I start to feel overwhelmed....
[Whatever this may mean it corresponds with what was said at the previous M. F. A. L. Sitting, p. 132, though M. F. A. L. had sat as a friend of Mrs. Kennedy in her house, [ 175] and I sat as a friend of Mr. Hill in Peters's room, and no sort of connexion was indicated between us].
[Whatever this means, it matches what was discussed at the last M. F. A. L. meeting, p. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, even though M. F. A. L. attended as a friend of Mrs. Kennedy in her home, [ 175] and I was there as a friend of Mr. Hill in Peters's room, with no suggestion of any connection between us].
(Soon afterwards the medium twitched, snapped his fingers, and began to speak as 'Moonstone':—)
(Soon after, the medium twitched, snapped his fingers, and began to speak as 'Moonstone':—)
"I come to speak to you, but I must get my Medie deep; we get superficial control first, and then go deeper and deeper; with your strong personality you frighten him a little; I find a little fear in the medium.... You bring with you a tremendous amount of work and business," etc.
"I’m here to talk to you, but I need to get into my headspace; we start with surface-level control and then dive deeper. Your strong personality intimidates him a bit; I sense some fear in the medium... You bring a huge amount of effort and responsibility with you," etc.
Now I get a new influence: an old lady, medium height, rounded face; light eyes; grey hair; small nose; lips somewhat thin, or held together as suppressed; a lady with very strong will; tremendously forcible she is. She passed away after leading a very active life....
Now I have a new influence: an elderly woman, average height, round face; light eyes; gray hair; small nose; lips a bit thin, or pressed together tightly; a woman with an incredibly strong will; she’s very forceful. She passed away after having a very active life...
She's a very good woman. It is not the first time she has come back. She tells me to tell you that they are all here. All. Because they are trying to reach out to you their love and sympathy at the present occasion, and they are thanking you both for the opportunity of getting back to you. "We are trying all we can also to bring him back to you, to let you realise that your faith, which you have held as a theory"—it is curious, but she wants me to say her message word for word—"as a theory for years, shall be justified." Then she rejoices ... (and refers to religious matters, etc.). [This clearly suggested the relative whose first utterance of this kind is reported so long ago as 1889 in Proc., S.P.R., vol. vi. p. 468 & 470.]
She's an incredibly good woman. This isn't the first time she's returned. She tells me to let you know that they are all here. All. They want to share their love and sympathy with you during this time, and they are grateful to both of you for the chance to reconnect. "We are doing everything we can to bring him back to you, to help you realize that your faith, which you've held as a theory"—it's interesting, but she insists that I deliver her message exactly as it is—"as a theory for years, will be proven true." Then she celebrates ... (and mentions religious matters, etc.). [This clearly suggested the relative whose first utterance of this kind is reported so long ago as 1889 in Proc., S.P.R., vol. vi. p. 468 & 470.]
Now she brings up a young man from the back. I must explain what we mean by 'the back' some time.
Now she brings up a young guy from the back. I need to explain what we mean by 'the back' sometime.
O. J. L.—But I understand.
O. J. L.—But I get it.
He is of medium height; somewhat light eyes; the face browned somewhat; fairly long nose; the lips a little full; nice teeth. He is standing pretty quiet.
He is of medium height, has somewhat light eyes, a face that is somewhat tanned, a fairly long nose, slightly full lips, and nice teeth. He is standing pretty still.
Look here, I know this man! And it is not [ 176] the first time he has been to us. Now he smiles, 'cos I recsonise him [so pronounced], but he comes back very, very strongly. He tells me that he is pushing the door open wider. Now he wants me to give you a message. He is going to try to come down with you; because it looks to me as though you are travelling to-day. "Down," he says. "I come down with you. We will try" (he says 'we,' not 'I'), "we will try to bring our united power to prove to you that I am here; I and the other young man who helped me, and who will help me."
Look, I know this guy! And this isn’t the first time he’s been here. He’s smiling because I recognize him, but he comes back really, really strongly. He tells me he’s opening the door wider. Now he wants me to pass on a message to you. He’s going to try to come down with you because it looks like you’re traveling today. “Down,” he says. “I’ll come down with you. We’ll try” (he says “we,” not “I”), “we’ll try to bring our combined power to show you that I’m here; I and the other young man who helped me, and who will help me.”
[The association of Raymond with 'another young man,' and his intention to come 'down' with me when I travelled back home on the same day to meet Mrs. Kennedy there, are entirely appropriate.—O. J. L.]
Raymond's relationship with 'another young guy' and his plan to come 'down' with me when I traveled back home on the same day to meet Mrs. Kennedy there makes complete sense.—O. J. L.
Look here, it is your boy! Because he calls you 'Father'; not 'Pa,' nor anything, but 'Father.' [True.]
Look, it’s your boy! Because he calls you 'Father'; not 'Dad,' or anything else, just 'Father.' [True.]
O. J. L.—Yes, my son.
O. J. L.—Yes, my son.
Wait a minute; now he wants to tell me one thing: "I am so glad that you took such a common-sense view of the subject, and that you didn't force it on mother. But you spoke of it as an actuality. She treated it like she treats all your things that she couldn't understand; giving you, as she always has done, the credit of being more clever than herself. But when I came over as I did, and in her despair, she came to you for help; but she wanted to get away from anything that you should influence."
Wait a minute; now he wants to tell me one thing: "I'm really glad that you approached the topic so sensibly and that you didn’t impose it on Mom. But you talked about it like it was a reality. She reacted to it the same way she reacts to everything else she doesn’t get; she still gives you, as she always has, the credit for being smarter than her. But when I came over as I did, and in her frustration, she turned to you for help; she just wanted to avoid anything that you might sway her with."
[Unfortunately, some one knocked at the door—a servant probably, wanted to come in and clear the room. The medium jerked and said, "Tell them to go away." I called out, "Can't come in now, private, engaged." Some talking continued outside for a little time—very likely it was some one wanting an interview with Peters. After a time the disturbance ceased. It was not very loud; the medium ignored it, except for the rather [ 177] loud and strong knock, which certainly perturbed him.]
Unfortunately, someone knocked on the door—a servant, most likely, wanting to come in and clean the room. The medium flinched and said, "Tell them to go away." I shouted, "Can't come in now, private, busy." A bit of conversation continued outside—probably someone wanting to talk to Peters. After a while, the noise stopped. It wasn't very loud; the medium ignored it, except for the rather [ 177] loud and strong knock, which definitely disturbed him.
Tell me where I was.
Tell me where I am.
(I repeated: "She wanted to get away from anything that you should influence.")
(I repeated: "She wanted to break free from anything that you might influence.")
Oh yes. He wants to say that you were quite right in staying away and letting her work altogether by herself. She was able to do better than if you had been there. You would have spoilt it.
Oh yes. He wants to say that you were exactly right to stay away and let her work entirely on her own. She was able to do even better than she would have if you had been there. You would have messed it up.
Your common-sense method of approaching the subject in the family has been the means of helping him to come back as he has been able to do; and had he not known what you had told him, then it would have been far more difficult for him to come back. He is very deliberate in what he says. He is a young man that knows what he is saying.
Your practical approach to the topic within the family has helped him return as he has; if he hadn’t understood what you shared with him, it would have been much tougher for him to come back. He chooses his words carefully. He’s a young man who knows exactly what he’s saying.
Do you know F. W. M.?
Do you know F. W. M.?
O. J. L.—Yes, I do.
O. J. L.—Yeah, I do.
[The next portion, relating to Myers, has been already reported in Chapter III; and the concluding portion, which is rather puzzling, shall be suppressed, as it relates to other people.]
[The next part about Myers has already been reported in Chapter III; and the ending part, which is a bit confusing, will be left out since it concerns other people.]
Towards the end 'Moonstone' began talking about himself, which he does in an interesting manner, and I shall perhaps give him an opportunity of saying more about the assumption of 'control' from his point of view. Meanwhile I quote this further extract:—
Towards the end, 'Moonstone' started to talk about himself, which he does in an engaging way, and I might give him a chance to share more about the idea of 'control' from his perspective. In the meantime, I'll quote this next excerpt:—
MOONSTONE'S' ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF
Have you been suffering inside?
Have you been hurting inside?
O. J. L.—No, not that I know of.
O. J. L.—Not that I know of.
Your heart's been bleeding. You never thought you could love so deep. There must be more or less suffering. Even though you are crucified, you will arise the stronger, bigger, better man. But out of this suffering and crucifixion, oh, how you are going to help humanity! This is a big work. It has been prophesied. It is through the sufferings of humanity that humanity is reached. It must be through pain. Let me tell you something about myself. I was Yogi—do you understand?
Your heart is aching. You never thought you could love this deeply. There has to be some suffering involved. Even though you feel broken, you will come back stronger and more fulfilled. From this pain and struggle, you will really make a difference for humanity! This is an important mission. It’s been predicted. It's through people's struggles that we connect as human beings. It has to come through pain. Let me tell you something about me. I was a Yogi—do you understand?
O. J. L.—Yes; a kind of hermit.
O. J. L.—Yeah; kind of like a hermit.
I lived a selfish life: a good life, but a selfish one, though I didn't know it then. I isolated myself and did not mix with people, not even with family life. When I go over, I find it was a negative goodness, so then I wanted to help humanity, because I hadn't helped it. I had not taken on the sufferings even of a family man. It was useless. And so that is why I came back to my Medie, and try to bear through him the sorrows of the world. It is through suffering that humanity is helped. That is one great thing in your beautiful religion; you know what I mean—the sacrifice of Jesus. He demonstrated eternity, but to do it He must be sacrificed and taste death. So all who teach the high ... must tread the same path; there's no escaping the crucifixion, it comes in one way or another. And you must remember, back in the past, when the good things came to you, how you began to realise (?) that there was a spirit world and a possibility of coming back. Though you speak cautiously, yet possibly in your prayers to God you say, "Let me suffer, let me know my cross, so that I can benefit humanity"; and when you make a compact with the unseen world, it is kept. You have told no one this, but it belongs to you and to your son. Out of it will come much joy, much happiness to others.
I lived a self-centered life: a good life, but still selfish, even if I didn't realize it back then. I kept to myself and didn’t engage with anyone, not even my family. Looking back, I see that it was a harmful kind of goodness, which motivated me to want to help humanity since I hadn’t before. I hadn’t even embraced the struggles of a family man. It felt pointless. That’s why I returned to my Medie, trying to carry the world's sorrows through him. It’s through suffering that we can help humanity. That’s a deep truth in your beautiful religion; you know what I mean—the sacrifice of Jesus. He showed us eternity, but to do that, he had to be sacrificed and confront death. So, everyone teaching high ideals must walk the same path; there's no escaping the crucifixion; it will come in one way or another. And remember, in the past, when good things came your way, you started to realize that there was a spirit world and a chance of returning. Even though you speak cautiously, maybe in your prayers to God you say, "Let me suffer, let me understand my cross, so I can help humanity"; and when you make a deal with the unseen world, it’s respected. You haven't shared this with anyone, but it belongs to you and your son. From it will come much joy and happiness for others.
Mr. Stead was, I understand, a friend to Peters, and how much of the above is tinged by Mr. Stead's influence, I cannot say: but immediately afterwards his name was mentioned, in the following way:—
Mr. Stead was, I understand, a friend of Peters, and I can't say how much of the above is influenced by Mr. Stead: but shortly after, his name was mentioned like this:—
Flashing down the line comes a message from Mr. Stead. I can't help it, I must give it. He says: "We did not see eye to eye; you thought I was too impetuous and too rash, but our conclusions are about the same now. We are pretty well on the level, and I have realised, even through mistakes, that I have reached and influenced a world that is suffering and sorrowing. But you have a world bigger and wider than mine, and your message will be bigger and will reach farther."
A message from Mr. Stead flashes down the line. I have to share it. He says: "We didn't see things the same way; you thought I was too impulsive and reckless, but our conclusions are pretty much aligned now. We're on the same page, and I’ve come to realize, despite my mistakes, that I’ve connected with and impacted a world in pain and grief. But you have a much larger and broader world, and your message will be bigger and will reach further."
SUMMARY
As far as evidence is concerned, Peters has done well at each of the three sittings any member of my family has had with him since Raymond's death. On the whole, I think he has done as well as any medium; especially as the abstention from supplying him normally with any identifying information has been strict.
As for the evidence, Peters has performed well during each of the three sessions any family member has had with him since Raymond's death. Overall, I believe he has done as well as any medium, especially considering that we've been strict about not giving him any identifying information beforehand.
It is true that I have not, through Peters, asked test questions of which the answers were unknown to me, as I [ 179] did at one sitting with Mrs. Leonard (Chapter IX). But the answers there given, though fairly good, and in my view beyond chance, were not perfect. Under the circumstances I think they could hardly have been expected to be perfect. It was little more than a month since the death, and new experiences and serious surroundings must have been crowding in upon the youth, so that old semi-frivolous reminiscences were difficult to recall. There was, however, with Peters no single incident so striking as the name 'Norman,' to me unknown and meaningless, which was given in perfectly appropriate connexion through the table at Mrs. Leonard's.
I admit that I haven't, through Peters, asked test questions with answers that I didn’t already know, like I did once with Mrs. Leonard (Chapter IX). However, the answers provided in that instance, while fairly decent and unlikely to be just luck, weren't perfect. Given the situation, it’s understandable they wouldn’t be flawless. It had only been a little over a month since the death, and the youth must have been overwhelmed with new experiences and serious circumstances, making it hard to remember old, somewhat trivial memories. Still, with Peters, there wasn't any one incident as striking as the name 'Norman,' which was completely new and meaningless to me, but was mentioned in a perfectly fitting context during the table talk at Mrs. Leonard's.
Footnotes
Footnotes
[21] Whether it be assumed that I was known or not, does not much matter; but I have no reason to suppose that I was. Rather the contrary. Peters seems barely to look at his sitters, and to be anxious to receive no normal information.
CHAPTER 14
FIRST SITTING OF LIONEL (ANONYMOUS)
AT length, on 17 November 1915, Raymond's brother Lionel (L. L.) went to London to see if he could get an anonymous sitting with Mrs. Leonard, without the intervention of Mrs. Kennedy or anybody. He was aware that by that time the medium must have sat with dozens of strangers and people not in any way connected with our family, and fortunately he succeeded in getting admitted as a complete stranger. This therefore is worth reporting, and the contemporary record follows. A few portions are omitted, partly for brevity, partly because private, but some non-evidential and what may seem rather absurd statements are reproduced, for what they are worth. It must be understood that Feda is speaking throughout, and that she is sometimes reporting in the third person, sometimes in the first, and sometimes speaking for herself. It is unlikely that lucidity is constant all the time, and Feda may have to do some padding. She is quite good and fairly careful, but of course, like all controls, she is responsible for certain mannerisms, and in her case for childishly modified names like 'Paulie,' etc. The dramatic circumstances of a sitting will be familiar to people of experience. The record tries to reproduce them—probably with but poor success. And it is always possible that the attempt, however conscientious, may furnish opportunity for ridicule, if any hostile critic thinks ridicule appropriate.
At last, on November 17, 1915, Raymond's brother Lionel (L. L.) went to London to see if he could have an anonymous session with Mrs. Leonard, without going through Mrs. Kennedy or anyone else. He knew that by then the medium must have had sessions with dozens of strangers and people not connected to our family, and luckily, he managed to get in as a complete stranger. This is worth noting, and the following is the contemporary record of the event. A few parts are left out, partly for brevity and partly because they are private, but some non-evidential and seemingly absurd statements are included for what they are worth. It's important to understand that Feda is speaking throughout, sometimes reporting in the third person, sometimes in the first, and sometimes speaking for herself. It’s unlikely that her clarity is constant, and she may have to embellish a bit. She is quite skilled and fairly cautious, but like all controls, she has her quirks, including childishly modified names like 'Paulie,' etc. The dramatic circumstances of a session will be familiar to those with experience. The record attempts to capture these—likely with limited success. It’s always possible that this effort, no matter how genuine, could invite ridicule if any critical observer finds it appropriate.
L. L.'s Sitting with Mrs. Leonard at her house,
as a
stranger, no one else being present,
12 o'clock, Wednesday,
17 November 1915.
Intro by O. J. L.
Lionel wrote to Mrs. Leonard at her old address in Warwick Avenue, for I had forgotten that she had moved, and I had not [ 181] told him her new address. He wrote on plain paper from Westminster without signing it, saying that he would be coming at a certain time. But she did not get the letter; so that, when he arrived about noon on Wednesday, 17 November, he arrived as a complete stranger without an appointment. He had at first gone to the wrong house and been redirected. Mrs. Leonard answered the door. She took him in at once when he said he wanted a sitting. She drew the blind down, and lit a red lamp as usual. She told him that she was controlled by 'Feda.' Very quickly—in about two minutes—the trance began, and Feda spoke.
Lionel wrote to Mrs. Leonard at her old address on Warwick Avenue because I had forgotten she had moved, and I hadn’t told him her new address. He wrote on plain paper from Westminster without signing it, saying he would be coming at a certain time. But she didn’t get the letter, so when he showed up around noon on Wednesday, 17 November, he arrived as a complete stranger without an appointment. He had initially gone to the wrong house and had been redirected. Mrs. Leonard answered the door. She let him in right away when he said he wanted a sitting. She pulled the blind down and lit a red lamp as usual. She told him she was controlled by "Feda." Very quickly—in about two minutes—the trance began, and Feda spoke.
Here follows his record:—
Here is his record:—
Report by L.L.
Subsequent annotations, in square brackets, are by O. J. L.
Later notes, in square brackets, are by O. J. L.
Good morning!
Good morning!
Why, you are psychic yourself!
Wow, you’re psychic too!
L. L.—I didn't know I was.
L. L.—I had no idea I was.
It will come out later.
It will be released later.
There are two spirits standing by you; the elder is fully built up, but the younger is not clear yet.
There are two spirits beside you; the older one is fully formed, but the younger one is still unclear.
The elder is on the tall side, and well built; he has a beard round his chin, but no moustache.
The elder is tall and well-built; he has a beard around his chin, but no mustache.
(This seemed to worry Feda, and she repeated it several times, as if trying to make it clear.)
(This appeared to worry Feda, and she repeated it several times, as if trying to clarify.)
A beard round chin, and hair at the sides, but upper lip shaved. A good forehead, eyebrows heavy and rather straight—not arched—eyes greyish; hair thin on top, and grey at the sides and back. It looks as if it had been brown before it went grey. A fine-looking face. He is building up something. He suffered here before he passed out (medium indicating chest or stomach). Letter W is held up. (See photograph facing p. 258.)
A beard around his chin and hair at the sides, but his upper lip is shaved. He has a good forehead, heavy eyebrows that are almost straight—not arched—greyish eyes; his hair is thin on top and grey on the sides and back. It seems like it was brown before it turned grey. He has a nice-looking face. He is working on something. He experienced some pain here before he passed out (medium indicating chest or stomach). The letter W is displayed. (See photograph facing p. 258.)
[This is the one that to other members of the family had been called Grandfather W., p. 143.]
[This is the one who was called Grandfather W. by other family members, p. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.]
There is another spirit.
There’s another spirit.
Somebody is laughing.
Someone is laughing.
Don't joke—it is serious.
No joking—it's serious.
(This was whispered, and sounded as if said to some one else, not to me.)
(This was whispered, and it felt like it was meant for someone else, not me.)
It's a young man, about twenty-three, or might [ 182] be twenty-five, judging only by appearance. Tall; well-built; not stout, well-built; brown hair, short at the sides and back; clean shaven; face more oval than round; nose not quite straight, rather rounded, and broader at the nostrils.
It's a young man, around twenty-three or maybe twenty-five, based just on looks. He's tall and fit, not overweight; he has short brown hair on the sides and back; he's clean-shaven; his face is more oval than round; his nose isn't perfectly straight, it's a bit rounded and wider at the nostrils.
(Whispering.) Feda can't see his face.
(Whispering.) Feda can't see his face.
(Then clearly.) He won't let Feda see his face; he is laughing.
(Then clearly.) He won't let Feda see his face; he's laughing.
(Whispered several times.) L, L, L.
(Whispered several times.) L, L, L.
(Then said out loud.) L. This is not his name; he puts it by you.
(Then said out loud.) L. This isn't his name; he's putting it aside.
(Whispering again.) Feda knows him—Raymond.
(Whispering again.) Feda knows him—Ray.
Oh, it's Raymond!
Oh, it's Ray!
(The medium here jumps about, and fidgets with her hands, just as a child would when pleased.)
(The medium here shifts about and fidgets with her hands, similar to a joyful child.)
That is why he would not show his face, because Feda would know him.
That’s why he wouldn’t reveal himself, because Feda would recognize him.
He is patting you on the shoulder hard. You can't feel it, but he thinks he is hitting you hard.
He is hitting you on the shoulder pretty hard. You can't feel it, but he believes he's really hitting you.
[It seems to have been a trick of his to pat a brother on the shoulder gradually harder and harder till humorous retaliation set in.]
[He seemed to have a habit of giving a brother a light pat on the shoulder that slowly became harder until it led to a funny response.]
He is very bright.
He's really smart.
This is the way it is given—it's an impression.
This is how it’s presented—it’s a feeling.
He has been trying to come to you at home, but there has been some horrible mix-ups; not really horrible, but a muddle. He really got through to you, but other conditions get through there, and mixes him up.
He has been trying to come see you at home, but there have been some frustrating mix-ups; not really terrible, just a mess. He really connected with you, but other circumstances got in the way and confused him.
[This evidently refers to some private 'Mariemont' sittings, without a medium, with which neither Feda nor Mrs. Leonard had had anything to do. It therefore shows specific knowledge and is of the nature of a mild cross-correspondence; cf. p. 217.]
[This clearly refers to some private 'Mariemont' sessions, without a medium, which neither Feda nor Mrs. Leonard participated in. It thus shows specific knowledge and is a type of subtle cross-correspondence; see p. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.]
L. L.—How can we improve it?
L. L.—How can we make it better?
He does not understand it sufficiently himself yet. Other spirits get in, not bad spirits, but ones that like to feel they are helping. The peculiar manifestations are not him, and it only confuses him terribly. Part of it was him, but [ 183] when the table was careering about, it was not him at all. He started it, but something comes along stronger than himself, and he loses the control.
He doesn't fully grasp it yet. Other spirits come through, not negative ones, but those that want to feel helpful. The strange manifestations aren't really him, and they just confuse him a lot. Some of it was him, but [ 183] when the table was spinning out of control, that wasn't him at all. He initiated it, but then something more powerful takes over, and he loses control.
(Whispered.) "Feda, can't you suggest something?"
(Whispered.) "Feda, can’t you come up with something?"
[This seemed to be a reported part of conversation on the other side.]
[This seemed to be a part of a conversation coming from the other side.]
Be very firm when it starts to move about.
Be really firm when it starts to move around.
Prayer helps when things are not relevant.
Prayer helps when things don't matter.
He is anxious about F.
He is worried about F.
L. L.—I don't know who F. is. Is it some friend?
L. L.—I’m not sure who F. is. Are they a friend?
(Medium here fidgets.)
(Medium here fidgets.)
Letter F. all right; it's some one he is interested in.
Letter F. all right; it's someone he is interested in.
He says he is sorry he worried his mother about [an incident mentioned at some previous sitting].
He says he's sorry he caused his mom to worry about [an incident mentioned at some previous sitting].
L. L.—Was it a mistake?
L. L.—Was it a blunder?
Yes, tell her, because (etc. etc.). When I thought it over I knew it was a mistake. If it had been now, and I had a little more experience in control, I should not have said so; but it was at the beginning—everything seemed such a rush—and I was not quite sure of what I did get through. He did not look at things in the right pers—perpec——
Yes, tell her, because (etc. etc.). When I thought about it, I realized it was a mistake. If it had been now, and I had a little more experience managing things, I wouldn’t have said that; but it was at the start—everything felt like such a rush—and I wasn't entirely sure of what I was getting across. He didn’t view things in the right pe—perspec—
L. L.—Perspective?
L. L.—Viewpoint?
Yes, that's what he said.
Yes, that's what he said.
Do you follow me, old chap?
Do you get me, buddy?
L. L.—Perfectly.
L. L.—Absolutely.
L. L.—Do you remember a sitting at home when you told me you had a lot to tell me?
L. L.—Do you remember the time we were at home and you said you had a lot to share with me?
Yes. What he principally wanted to say was about the place he is in. He could not spell it all out—too laborious. He felt rather upset at first. You do not feel so real as people do where he is, and walls appear transparent to him now. The great thing that made him reconciled to his new surroundings was—that things appear so solid and substantial. The first idea upon waking up was, I suppose, of what they call 'passing over.' It was only [ 184] for a second or two, as you count time, [that it seemed a] shadowy vague place, everything vapoury and vague. He had that feeling about it.
Yes. What he mainly wanted to express was about the place he’s in. He couldn’t spell it all out—it felt too tiring. At first, he felt pretty unsettled. You don’t feel as real as the people do where he is, and the walls seem transparent to him now. The big thing that helped him adjust to his new surroundings was that everything seems so solid and substantial. The first thought upon waking was, I guess, of what they call 'passing over.' For just a second or two, as you measure time, it felt like a shadowy, vague place, everything misty and unclear. He had that impression about it.
The first person to meet him was Grandfather.
The first person to meet him was Grandpa.
(This was said very carefully, as if trying to get it right with difficulty.)
This was said very carefully, as if trying hard to get it right.
And others then, some of whom he had only heard about. They all appeared to be so solid, that he could scarcely believe that he had passed over.
And others then, some of whom he had only heard about. They all seemed so solid that he could hardly believe he had moved on.
He lives in a house—a house built of bricks—and there are trees and flowers, and the ground is solid. And if you kneel down in the mud, apparently you get your clothes soiled. The thing I don't understand yet is that the night doesn't follow the day here, as it did on the earth plane. It seems to get dark sometimes, when he would like it to be dark, but the time in between light and dark is not always the same. I don't know if you think all this is a bore.
He lives in a house—a brick house—and there are trees and flowers, and the ground is firm. If you kneel down in the mud, apparently you'll stain your clothes. What I don't get yet is that night doesn't follow day here like it does on Earth. It occasionally gets dark when he wants it to be dark, but the time between light and dark isn't always the same. I’m not sure if you find all this boring.
(I was here thinking whether my pencils would last out; I had two, and was starting on the second one.)
I was just wondering if my pencils would last; I had two, and I was starting on the second one.
What I am worrying round about is, how it's made, of what it is composed. I have not found out yet, but I've got a theory. It is not an original idea of my own; I was helped to it by words let drop here and there.
What I’m really concerned about is how it’s made and what it’s made of. I haven’t figured it out yet, but I have a theory. It’s not a completely original thought; I came to it by picking up hints from various conversations.
People who think everything is created by thought are wrong. I thought that for a little time, that one's thoughts formed the buildings and the flowers and trees and solid ground; but there is more than that.
People who believe everything is made by thought are mistaken. I believed that for a while, that our thoughts created the buildings, flowers, trees, and solid ground; but there's more to it than that.
He says something of this sort:—
He says something like this:—
[This means that Feda is going to report in the third person again, or else to speak for herself.—O. J. L.]
This means that Feda will report in the third person again, or she will speak for herself.—O. J. L.
There is something always rising from the earth plane—something chemical in form. As it rises to ours, it goes through various changes and solidifies on our plane. Of course I am only speaking of where I am now.
There’s always something coming up from the ground—something chemical in nature. As it rises to our level, it undergoes different transformations and solidifies here. Of course, I’m just talking about where I am right now.
He feels sure that it is something given off [ 185] from the earth, that makes the solid trees and flowers, etc.
He is confident that it’s something released from the earth that allows the solid trees and flowers, etc. [ 185]
He does not know any more. He is making a study of this, but it takes a good long time.
He doesn't know anymore. He's studying this, but it's taking a while.
L. L.—I should like to know whether he can get into touch with anybody on earth?
L. L.—I want to know if he can connect with anyone on earth?
Not always.
Not always.
Only those wishing to see him, and who it would be right for him to see. Then he sees them before he has thought.
Only those who want to see him, and who it would be appropriate for him to see. Then he sees them before he even thinks about it.
I don't seem to wish for anything.
I don’t really want anything.
He does not wish to see anybody unless they are going to be brought to him.
He doesn't want to see anyone unless they're brought to him.
I am told that I can meet anyone at any time that I want to; there is no difficulty in the way of it. That is what makes it such a jolly fine place to live in.
I’ve been told that I can meet anyone I want, whenever I want; there’s nothing stopping me. That’s what makes it such a great place to live.
L. L.—Can he help people here?
L. L.—Can he assist people here?
That is part of his work, but there are others doing that; the greatest amount of his work is still at the war.
That’s part of his job, but there are others handling that; most of his work is still focused on the war.
I've been home—only likely I've been home—but my actual work is at the war.
I've been at home—well, I’ve probably been at home—but my real job is at the war.
He has something to do with father, though his work still lies at the war, helping on poor chaps literally shot into the spirit world.
He’s connected to his dad, even though his job is still at the war, assisting guys who have literally been shot into the afterlife.
L. L.—Can you see ahead at all?
L. L.—Can you see anything up ahead?
He thinks sometimes that he can, but it's not easy to predict.
He sometimes thinks that he can, but it’s not easy to tell.
I don't think that I really know any more than when on earth.
I don't think I really know any more than I did when I was on earth.
L. L.—Can you tell anything about how the war is going on?
L. L.—Can you share any updates on how the war is going?
There are better prospects for the war. On all sides now more satisfactory than it has been before.
There are better prospects for the war. On all sides now, things are more satisfactory than they have been before.
This is not apparent on the earth plane, but I feel more ... the surface, and more satisfied than before.
This isn't obvious on the physical level, but I feel more ... present, and more fulfilled than I did before.
I can't help feeling intensely interested. I believe we have lost Greece, and am not sure that it was not due to our own fault. We have [ 186] only done now what should have been done months ago.
I can't help but feel really intrigued. I think we've lost Greece, and I'm not sure it wasn't our own fault. We have [ 186] only done what should have been done months ago.
He does not agree about Serbia. Having left them so long has had a bad effect upon Roumania. Roumania thinks will she be in the same boat, if she joins in.
He doesn't agree about Serbia. Being away from them for so long has negatively impacted Romania. Romania is wondering if she'll end up in the same situation if she decides to join in.
All agree that Russia will do well right through the winter. They are going to show what they can do. They are used to their ground and winter conditions, and Germany is not. There will be steady progress right through the winter.
All agree that Russia will perform well throughout the winter. They are going to demonstrate their capabilities. They are accustomed to their terrain and winter conditions, while Germany is not. There will be consistent progress all winter long.
I think there is something looming now.
I think something is on the horizon now.
Some of the piffling things I used to be interested in, I have forgotten all about. There is such a lot to be interested in here. I realise the seriousness sometimes of this war.... It is like watching a most interesting race or game gradually developing before you. I am doing work in it, which is not so interesting as watching.
Some of the trivial things I used to care about, I've completely forgotten. There’s so much to be interested in here. I understand the seriousness of this war at times... It feels like watching a really exciting race or game unfold right in front of you. I'm involved in it, but the work isn’t as engaging as just watching.
L. L.—Have you any message for home?
L. L.—Do you have any messages for home?
Of course love to his mother, and to all, specially to mother. H. is doing very well. [Meaning his sister Honor.]
Of course, he loves his mother and everyone, especially his mom. H. is doing really well. [Meaning his sister Honor.]
L. L.—In what way?
L. L.—How so?
H. is helping him in a psychic way; she makes it easy for him. He doesn't think he need tell father anything, he is so certain in himself meaning Raymond, in spite of silly mistakes. It disappoints him. We must separate out the good from the bad, and not try more than one form; not the jig—jig——
H. is helping him in a mental way; she makes it easier for him. He doesn't think he needs to tell his father anything; he's so sure of himself, meaning Raymond, despite his silly mistakes. It lets him down. We need to sort out the good from the bad and not try more than one approach; not the jig—jig——
L. L.—I know; jigger. [A kind of Ouija.]
L. L.—I know; jigger. [A type of Ouija board.]
No. He didn't like the jigger. He thinks he can work the table. [See Chapter XIX.]
No. He didn't like the jigger. He thinks he can handle the table. [See Chapter XIX.]
L. L.—Would you tell me how I could help in any way?
L. L.—Could you let me know how I can help?
Just go very easily, only let one person speak, as he has said before. It can be H. or L. L. Settle on one person to put the questions, the different sound of voices confuses him, and he mixes it up with questions from another's thoughts. In time he hopes it will be not so difficult. He wouldn't give it up, he loves it. Don't try more than twice [ 187] a week, perhaps only once a week. Try to keep the same times always, and to the same day if possible.
Just take it easy, and let only one person talk, as mentioned before. It can be H. or L. L. Decide on one person to ask the questions; the different voices confuse him, and he mixes them up with questions that come from someone else's thoughts. Eventually, he hopes it will get easier. He wouldn’t give it up; he loves it. Try not to do it more than twice a week, maybe just once a week. Try to stick to the same times each week, and the same day if you can. [ 187]
He is going.
He's going.
Give my love to them all. Tell them I am very happy. Very well, and plenty to do, and intensely interested. I did suffer from shock at first, but I'm extremely happy now.
Give my love to everyone. Tell them I'm really happy. I'm doing well, I've got a lot on my plate, and I'm deeply interested in everything. I did feel a bit shocked at first, but I'm really happy now.
I'm off. He won't say good-bye.
I'm leaving. He isn't going to say goodbye.
A lady comes too: A girl, about medium height; on the slender side, not thin, but slender; face, oval shape; blue eyes; lightish brown hair, not golden.
A lady walks in too: A girl, of average height; on the slim side, not skinny, but slim; face shaped like an oval; blue eyes; light brown hair, not blonde.
L. L.—Can she give a name—I cannot guess who she is from the description?
L. L.—Can she mention a name? I can't figure out who she is based on the description.
She builds up an L.
She builds an L.
Not like the description when she was on earth. Very little earth life. She is related to you. She has grown up in the spirit life.
Not like the way it was described when she was on earth. Very limited earthly experience. She is connected to you. She has matured in the spirit world.
Oh, she is your sister!
Oh, she's your sister!
She is fair; not so tall as you; a nice face; blue eyes.
She is pretty; not as tall as you; a nice face; blue eyes.
L. L.—I know her name now. [See at a previous sitting where this deceased sister is described, p. 159.]
L. L.—I know her name now. [Refer to an earlier session where this deceased sister is mentioned, p. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.]
Give her love to them at home, but also principally to mother. And say that she and her brother, not Raymond, have been also to the sittings at home.
Give her love to them at home, but mainly to mom. And let her know that she and her brother, not Raymond, have also been to the meetings at home.
She brings lilies with her; she is singing—it's like humming; Feda can't hear the words.
She brings lilies with her; she's singing—it's like humming; Feda can't hear the words.
She is going too—power is going.
She's coming too—power is fading.
L. L.—Give my love to her.
L. L.—Send her my love.
Feda sends her love also.
Feda sends her love too.
Raymond was having a joke by not showing his face to Feda.
Raymond was playing a joke by not showing his face to Feda.
Good-bye.
Goodbye.
(Sitting ended at 1.30 p.m.)
Sitting ended at 1:30 PM.
CHAPTER 15
MEETING OF M. F. A. L. WITH MRS. LEONARD
Friday, 26 November 1915
Friday, November 26, 1915
A FEW things may be reported from a sitting which Lady Lodge had with Mrs. Leonard on 26 November, however absurd they may seem. They are of course repeated by the childish control Feda, but I do not by that statement of bare fact intend to stigmatise them in any way. Criticism of unverifiable utterances seems to me premature.
A FEW things can be shared from a meeting that Lady Lodge had with Mrs. Leonard on November 26, no matter how ridiculous they might sound. They're obviously repeated by the naive control Feda, but I don't mean to label them negatively with that straightforward statement. Critiquing unverified statements feels premature to me.
The sitting began without preliminaries as usual. It
is not a particularly good one, and the notes are rather
incomplete, especially near the end of the time, when Feda
seemed to wander from the point, and when rather tedious
descriptions of people began. These are omitted.
The meeting started without any introductions, as usual. It's not a great one, and the notes are pretty incomplete, especially toward the end, when Feda seemed to drift off-topic and when some boring descriptions of people began. Those parts are left out.
Sitting of M. F. A. L. with Mrs. Leonard at her house on
Friday, 26 November 1915, from 3 to 4.30 p.m.
(No one else present.)
(No one else is here.)
(The sitting began with a statement from Feda that she liked Lionel, and that Raymond had taken her down to his home. Then she reported that Raymond said:—)
(The sitting began with Feda expressing that she liked Lionel and that Raymond had taken her to his place. She then stated that Raymond said:—)
"Mother darling, I am so happy, and so much more so because you are."
"Mom, I am so happy, and even more so because you are too."
M. F. A. L.—Yes, we are; and as your father says, we can face Christmas now.
M.F.A.L.—Yes, we are; and as your dad says, we can handle Christmas now.
Raymond says he will be there.
Raymond says he'll be there.
M. F. A. L.—We will put a chair for him.
M.F.A.L.—We'll set up a chair for him.
Yes, he will come and sit in it.
Yes, he will come and sit in it.
He wants to strike a bargain with you. He [ 189] says, "If I come there, there must be no sadness. I don't want to be a ghost at the feast. There mustn't be one sigh. Please, darling, keep them in order, rally them up. Don't let them. If they do, I shall have the hump." (Feda, sotto voce.—'hump,' what he say.)
He wants to make a deal with you. He [ 189] says, "If I come there, there can't be any sadness. I don't want to feel like a ghost at the party. There better not be a single sigh. Please, darling, keep them together, get them in line. Don’t let them be sad. If they do, I’ll be really upset." (Feda, sotto voce.—'upset,' that’s what he means.)
M. F. A. L.—We will all drink his health and happiness.
M. F. A. L.—Let’s all raise a glass to his health and happiness.
Yes, you can think I am wishing you health too.
Yes, you can believe that I'm hoping for your health as well.
M. F. A. L.—We were interested in hearing about his clothes and things; we can't think how he gets them! [The reference is to a second sitting of Lionel, not available for publication.]
M. F. A. L.—We were interested in hearing about his clothes and everything; we can't figure out where he gets them! [The reference is to a second sitting of Lionel, not available for publication.]
They are all man-u-fac-tured. [Feda stumbling over long words.]
They’re all manufactured. [Feda tripping over long words.]
Can you fancy you seeing me in white robes? Mind, I didn't care for them at first, and I wouldn't wear them. Just like a fellow gone to a country where there is a hot climate—an ignorant fellow, not knowing what he is going to; it's just like that. He may make up his mind to wear his own clothes a little while, but he will soon be dressing like the natives. He was allowed to have earth clothes here until he got acclimatised; they let him; they didn't force him. I don't think I will ever be able to make the boys see me in white robes.
Can you imagine seeing me in white robes? Honestly, I didn't like them at first, and I wouldn't wear them. It's like someone going to a hot country—someone who's clueless about what to expect; it's just like that. They might decide to stick with their own clothes for a bit, but soon enough, they'll be dressing like the locals. They were allowed to wear regular clothes here until they adjusted; they let him do that; they didn't push him. I doubt I will ever be able to get the boys to see me in white robes.
Mother, don't go doing too much.
Mom, don’t overdo it.
M. F. A. L.—I am very strong.
M. F. A. L.—I'm really strong.
You think you are, but you tire yourself out too much. It troubles me.
You think you are, but you wear yourself out too much. It worries me.
M. F. A. L.—Yes, but I should be quite glad to come over there, if I could come quickly, even though I am so happy here, and I don't want to leave people.
M. F. A. L.—Yes, but I would really love to come over there if I could get there quickly, even though I'm really happy here and don’t want to leave anyone behind.
Don't you think I would be glad to have you here! If you do what he says, you will come over when the time comes—quick, sharp.
Don't you think I'd be happy to have you here! If you follow his instructions, you'll come over when the time is right—fast and precise.
He says he comes and sees you in bed. The reason for that is the air is so quiet then. You often go up there in the spirit-land while your body is asleep.
He says he comes and sees you in bed. The reason for that is because the air is so still at that time. You often go up there in the spirit realm while your body is asleep.
M. F. A. L.—Would you like us to sit on the same night as Mrs. Kennedy sits, or on different nights? [Meaning in trials for cross-correspondences.]
M. F. A. L.—Should we sit on the same night as Mrs. Kennedy or on different nights? [Meaning in trials for cross-correspondences.]
On the same night, as it wastes less time. Besides, he forgets, if there is too long an interval. He wants to get something of the same sort to each place.
On the same night, as it takes less time. Plus, he forgets if there’s too long a gap. He wants to get something similar to each place.
William and Lily come to play with Raymond. Lily had gone on, but came back to be with Raymond. [These mean his long-deceased infant brother and sister.]
William and Lily come to play with Raymond. Lily had continued on, but returned to be with Raymond. [These mean his long-deceased infant brother and sister.]
(More family talk omitted.)
(More family talk omitted.)
Get some sittings soon, so as to get into full swing by Christmas. Tell them when they get him through, and he says, "Raymond," tell them to go very easily, and not to ask too many questions. Questions want thinking out beforehand. They are not to talk among themselves, because then they get part of one thing and part of another. And not to say, "No, don't ask him that," or he gets mixed.
Get some sessions scheduled soon, so we can be in full swing by Christmas. Let them know that when they get him to say, "Raymond," they should go very easy and not ask too many questions. Questions need to be thought out beforehand. They shouldn’t talk among themselves, because then they get bits of this and bits of that. And they shouldn’t say, "No, don't ask him that," or he gets confused.
Do you know we sometimes have to prepare answers a little before we transmit them; it is a sort of mental effort to give answers through the table. When they say, do you ask, we begin to get ready to speak through the table. Write down a few questions and keep to them.
Do you know that sometimes we have to get our answers ready a little before we share them? It's a kind of mental workout to provide answers through the table. When they ask you to speak, we start preparing to respond through the table. Write down a few questions and stick to those.
CHAPTER 16
O. J. L. SITTING OF DECEMBER 3
With Some Unverifiable Matter
With Some Unverified Matter
AT a sitting which I had with Mrs. Leonard on 3 December 1915, information was given about the photograph—as already reported, Chapter IV. In all these 'Feda' sittings, the remarks styled sotto voce represent conversation between Feda and the communicator, not addressed to the sitter at all. I always try to record these scraps when I can overhear them; for they are often interesting, and sometimes better than what is subsequently reported as the result of the brief conversation. For she appears to be uttering under her breath not only her own question or comment, but also what she is being told; and sometimes names are in that way mentioned correctly, when afterwards she muddles them. For instance, on one occasion she said sotto voce, "What you say? Rowland?" (in a clear whisper); and then, aloud, "He says something like Ronald." Whereas in this case 'Rowland' proved to be correct. The dramatically childlike character of Feda seems to carry with it a certain amount of childish irresponsibility. Raymond says that he "has to talk to her seriously about it sometimes."
During a session I had with Mrs. Leonard on December 3, 1915, information was shared about the photograph—as already reported in Chapter IV. In all these 'Feda' sessions, the remarks labeled sotto voce represent a conversation between Feda and the communicator, not directed at the sitter at all. I always try to jot down these snippets when I can hear them, as they are often interesting and sometimes better than what is later reported from the brief conversation. It seems she is whispering not only her own questions or comments but also what she’s being told; sometimes names are mentioned correctly this way when later she confuses them. For example, once she whispered, "What you say? Rowland?” (in a clear whisper); and then said aloud, "He says something like Ronald." In this case, 'Rowland' turned out to be correct. The dramatically childlike nature of Feda seems to bring with it a certain level of childish irresponsibility. Raymond says that he "has to talk to her seriously about it sometimes."
A few other portions, not about the photograph,
are included in the record of this sitting, some of a
very non-evidential and perhaps ridiculous kind, but I
do not feel inclined to suppress them. (For reasons, see
Chapter XII.) Some of them are rather amusing. Unverifiable
statements have hitherto been generally suppressed,
in reporting Piper and other sittings; but here,
in deference partly to the opinion of Professor Bergson—
[ 192]
who when he was in England urged that statements
about life on the other side, properly studied, like
travellers' tales, might ultimately furnish proof more
logically cogent than was possible from mere access
to earth memories—they are for the most part reproduced.
I should think, myself, that they are of very
varying degrees of value, and peculiarly liable to unintentional
sophistication by the medium. They cannot
be really satisfactory, as we have no means of bringing
them to book. The difficulty is that Feda encounters
many sitters, and though the majority are just inquirers,
taking what comes and saying very little, one or two
may be themselves full of theories, and may either intentionally
or unconsciously convey them to the 'control';
who may thereafter retail them as actual information,
without perhaps being sure whence they were derived.
Some books, moreover, have been published of late,
purporting to give information about ill-understood things
in a positive and assured manner, and it is possible that
the medium has read these and may be influenced by
them. It will be regrettable if these books are taken as
authoritative by people unable to judge of the scientific
errors which are conspicuous in their more normal portions;
and the books themselves seem likely to retard
the development of the subject in the minds of critical
persons.
A few other parts not related to the photograph are included in the record of this session, some of which are quite unsubstantiated and perhaps even ridiculous, but I don’t feel inclined to leave them out. (For reasons, see Chapter XII.) Some of them are rather funny. Unverifiable statements have generally been kept quiet in reporting on Piper and other sessions, but here, partly in respect to Professor Bergson's opinion—who, when he was in England, argued that statements about life on the other side, when properly analyzed, like travelers' tales, might ultimately provide proof that's more logically convincing than just relying on earthly memories—they are mostly included. Personally, I think their value varies greatly and they are particularly susceptible to unintended influence from the medium. They can't really be considered satisfactory since we have no way to verify them. The problem is that Feda meets many sitters, and while most are just curious, taking what they get and saying little, one or two may have their own theories and could intentionally or unintentionally share these with the 'control'; who might then pass them on as actual information, perhaps without being sure of where they came from. Additionally, some books have been published recently, claiming to provide information about misunderstood topics in a definitive way, and it's possible that the medium has read these and could be impacted by them. It would be unfortunate if these books are taken as authoritative by those who can't recognize the glaring scientific errors in their more straightforward parts; and these books themselves seem likely to hinder the subject's development in the minds of discerning individuals.
Sitting with Mrs. Leonard at her House on Friday,
3 December 1915, from 6.10 p.m. to 8.20 p.m.
(O. J. L. alone.)
(O. J. L. solo.)
This is a long record, because I took verbatim notes, but I propose to inflict it all upon the reader, in accordance with promise to report unverifiable and possibly absurd matter, just as it comes, and even to encourage it.
This is a lengthy account because I took detailed notes, but I plan to share it all with the reader, as promised, to report on unverifiable and potentially ridiculous things, just as they are, and even to promote it.
Feda soon arrived, said good evening, jerked about on the chair, and squeaked or chuckled, after her manner when indicating pleasure. Then, without preliminaries, she spoke:—
Feda soon arrived, said good evening, shifted around in the chair, and made a squeaky or chuckling sound, as she usually did when expressing happiness. Then, without any small talk, she spoke:—
He is waiting; he's looking very pleased. He's awful anxious to tell you about the place where [ 193] he lives; he doesn't understand yet how it looks so solid. (Cf. p. 184.)
He’s waiting; he looks really happy. He’s super eager to tell you about the place where he lives; he doesn’t get yet why it seems so solid. (Cf. p. 184.)
(Feda, sotto voce.—What you say? Yes, Feda knows.) He's been watching lately different kinds of people what come over, and the different kinds of effect it has on them.
(Feda, in a low voice.—What are you saying? Yeah, Feda knows.) He's been observing lately the different types of people who come by and how it affects them in different ways.
Oh, it is interesting, he says—much more than on the old earth plane. I didn't want to leave you and mother and all of them, but it is interesting. I wish you could come over for one day, and be with me here. There are times you do go there, but you won't remember. They have all been over with him at night-time, and so have you, but he thought it very hard you couldn't remember. If you did, he is told (he doesn't know it himself, but he is told this), the brain would scarcely bear the burden of the double existence, and would be unfitted for its daily duties; so the memory is shut out. That is the explanation given to him.
Oh, it’s fascinating, he says—way more than on the old earth. I really didn’t want to leave you and mom and everyone else, but it is fascinating. I wish you could come over for just one day and be with me here. There are times you do visit, but you won’t remember. They have all come to see him at night, and so have you, but he found it really tough that you couldn’t remember. If you did, he’s been told (he doesn’t know it himself, but he’s been told this) that the brain would hardly handle the weight of living in two realities and wouldn’t be fit for its daily tasks, so the memory is blocked out. That’s the explanation given to him.
(Feda, sotto voce.—What, Raymond? Al—lec, he says, Al—lec, Al—lec.)
(Feda, sotto voce.—What, Raymond? Al—lec, he says, Al—lec, Al—lec.)
He keeps on saying something about Alec. He has been trying to get to Alec, to communicate with him; and he couldn't see if he made himself felt—whether he really got through.
He keeps saying something about Alec. He's been trying to reach Alec, to talk to him; and he couldn't tell if he really got his message across—whether he actually connected.
(The medium hitherto had been holding O. J. L.'s left hand; here she let go, Feda saying: He will let you have your own hand back.)
The medium was holding O. J. L.'s left hand; then she released it, with Feda stating: He will return your hand.
He thought he had got into a bedroom, and that he knocked; but there wasn't much notice taken.
He thought he had entered a bedroom and knocked, but not much attention was paid.
Yes, he wanted to see him.
Yes, he wanted to see him.
And he also hopes to be able to talk to Lionel with the direct voice; not here, he says, but somewhere else. He is very anxious to speak to him. Through a chap, he says, a direct voice chap.
And he also hopes to be able to talk to Lionel using a direct voice; not here, he says, but somewhere else. He is really eager to speak with him. Through a guy, he says, a direct voice guy.
O. J. L.—Very well, I will take the message.
O. J. L.—Alright, I’ll take the message.
Well, he says, he wants to try once or twice. He wants to be able to say what he says to Feda in another way. He thinks he could get through in his own home sometime. He would much rather have it there. And he thinks that if he got through once or twice with direct voice, he might be able to do better in his own home. H. is psychic, he says, but he is afraid of hurting her; he doesn't want to take too much from her. But he really is going to get through. He really has got through at home; but silly spirits wanted to have a game. There was a strange feeling there; he didn't seem to know how much he was doing himself, so he stood aside part of the time. [Mariemont sittings are reported later. Chapter XIX.]
Well, he says he wants to try once or twice. He wants to express what he tells Feda in a different way. He thinks he could manage it at home sometime. He would prefer to do it there. He believes that if he gets through once or twice with a direct voice, he might be able to improve in his own space. H. claims to be psychic, but he’s worried about hurting her; he doesn’t want to take too much from her. But he truly believes he will get through. He has actually gotten through at home; however, mischievous spirits wanted to play games. There was a strange vibe there; he didn’t seem to know how much he was contributing, so he stepped back part of the time. [Mariemont sittings are reported later. Chapter XIX.]
Then the photograph episode came, as reported in Chapter IV.
Then the photo incident occurred, as mentioned in Chapter __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.
Then it went on (Feda talking, of course, all the time):—
Then it continued (Feda was talking the entire time):—
He says he has been trying to go to somebody, and see somebody he used to know. He's not related to them, and the name begins with S. It's a gentleman, he says, and he can't remember, or can't tell Feda the name, but it begins with S. He was trying to get to them, but is not sure that he succeeded.
He says he's been trying to reach out to someone and see someone he used to know. He's not related to them, and the name starts with S. It's a guy, he says, and he can't remember or can't tell Feda the name, but it starts with S. He was trying to connect with them but isn't sure if he was successful.
O. J. L.—Did he want to?
O. J. L.—Did he really want to?
He says it was only curiosity; but he likes to feel that he can look up anybody. But he says, if they take no notice, I shall give up soon, only I just like to see what it feels like to be looking at them from where I am.
He says it was just curiosity; but he likes feeling like he can check anyone out. But he says if they don’t notice, he’ll give up soon, only he just wants to see what it feels like to look at them from his spot.
O. J. L.—Does he want to say anything more about his house or his clothes or his body?
O. J. L.—Does he have anything else to say about his house, his clothes, or his body?
Oh yes. He is bursting to tell you.
Oh yes. He can't wait to tell you.
He says, my body's very similar to the one I had before. I pinch myself sometimes to see if it's real, and it is, but it doesn't seem to hurt as much as when I pinched the flesh body. The internal organs don't seem constituted on the same lines as before. They can't be quite the same. But to all appearances, and outwardly, they are the same as [ 195] before. I can move somewhat more freely, he says.
He says my body feels pretty much like the one I had before. I pinch myself sometimes to check if it's real, and it is, but it doesn’t seem to hurt as much as when I pinched my physical body. The internal organs don’t seem to be set up quite the same way as before. They can’t be exactly the same. But on the surface, they look the same as [ 195] before. I can move a bit more freely, he says.
Oh, there's one thing, he says, I have never seen anybody bleed.
Oh, there's one thing, he says, I've never seen anyone bleed.
O. J. L.—Wouldn't he bleed if he pricked himself?
O. J. L.—Wouldn't he bleed if he got a cut?
He never tried it. But as yet he has seen no blood at all.
He never tried it. But so far, he hasn't seen any blood at all.
O. J. L.—Has he got ears and eyes?
O. J. L.—Does he have ears and eyes?
Yes, yes, and eyelashes, and eyebrows, exactly the same, and a tongue and teeth. He has got a new tooth now in place of another one he had—one that wasn't quite right then. He has got it right, and a good tooth has come in place of the one that had gone.
Yes, yes, and eyelashes, and eyebrows, exactly the same, and a tongue and teeth. He has a new tooth now where another one used to be—one that wasn't quite right before. He got it fixed, and a good tooth has come in place of the one that was missing.
He knew a man that had lost his arm, but he has got another one. Yes, he has got two arms now. He seemed as if without a limb when first he entered the astral, seemed incomplete, but after a while it got more and more complete, until he got a new one. He is talking of people who have lost a limb for some years.
He knew a guy who had lost his arm, but he got another one. Yeah, he's got two arms now. He seemed like he was missing a limb when he first entered the astral, seemed incomplete, but after a while it became more and more complete, until he got a new one. He's talking about people who have lost a limb for several years.
O. J. L.—What about a limb lost in battle?
O. J. L.—What happens to a limb lost in battle?
Oh, if they have only just lost it, it makes no difference, it doesn't matter; they are quite all right when they get here. But I am told—he doesn't know this himself, but he has been told—that when anybody's blown to pieces, it takes some time for the spirit-body to complete itself, to gather itself all in, and to be complete. It dissipated a certain amount of substance which is undoubtedly theric, theric—etheric, and it has to be concentrated again. The spirit isn't blown apart, of course,—he doesn't mean that,—but it has an effect upon it. He hasn't seen all this, but he has been inquiring because he is interested.
Oh, if they’ve just lost it, it doesn’t make a difference; they’ll be fine when they arrive. But I’ve heard—he doesn’t know this himself, but he’s been told—that when someone is blown to pieces, it takes some time for the spirit-body to regenerate, to pull itself back together, and to become whole again. It loses some substance that is definitely etheric, and it needs to be concentrated again. The spirit isn’t actually blown apart, of course—he doesn’t mean that—but it does have an effect on it. He hasn’t seen any of this himself, but he’s been asking about it because he’s curious.
O. J. L.—What about bodies that are burnt?
O.J.L.—What about bodies that are burned?
Oh, if they get burnt by accident, if they know about it on this side, they detach the spirit first. What we call a spirit-doctor comes round and helps. But bodies should not be burnt on purpose. We have terrible trouble sometimes over people who are cremated too soon; they shouldn't be. It's a [ 196] terrible thing; it has worried me. People are so careless. The idea seems to be—"hurry up and get them out of the way now that they are dead." Not until seven days, he says. They shouldn't be cremated for seven days.
Oh, if they get accidentally burned, and if they know about it from this side, they first detach the spirit. A spirit-doctor comes around to help. But bodies shouldn’t be burned on purpose. We sometimes face serious issues with people who are cremated too soon; they shouldn’t be. It’s a [ 196] terrible thing; it has really concerned me. People are so careless. The idea seems to be—“let’s hurry and get them out of the way now that they’re dead.” Not until seven days, he says. They shouldn’t be cremated for seven days.
O. J. L.—But what if the body goes bad?
O.J.L.—But what happens if the body deteriorates?
When it goes bad, the spirit is already out. If that much (indicating a trifle) of spirit is left in the body, it doesn't start mortifying. It is the action of the spirit on the body that keeps it from mortifying. When you speak about a person 'dying upwards,' it means that the spirit is getting ready and gradually getting out of the body. He saw the other day a man going to be cremated two days after the doctor said he was dead. When his relations on this side heard about it, they brought a certain doctor on our side, and when they saw that the spirit hadn't got really out of the body, they magnetised it, and helped it out. But there was still a cord, and it had to be severed rather quickly, and it gave a little shock to the spirit, like as if you had something amputated; but it had to be done. He believes it has to be done in every case. If the body is to be consumed by fire, it is helped out by spirit-doctors. He doesn't mean that a spirit-body comes out of its own body, but an essence comes out of the body—oozes out, he says, and goes into the other body which is being prepared. Oozes, he says, like in a string. String, that's what he say. Then it seems to shape itself, or something meets it and shapes round it. Like as if they met and went together, and formed a duplicate of the body left behind. It's all very interesting.[23]
When things go wrong, the spirit is already out. If just a little bit of spirit is left in the body, it doesn’t start decaying. It’s the spirit’s influence on the body that keeps it from deteriorating. When you talk about someone "dying upwards," it means that the spirit is preparing to leave the body gradually. He saw a man who was going to be cremated just two days after the doctor declared him dead. When his relatives on this side heard about it, they brought in a certain doctor from our side, and when they realized that the spirit hadn’t fully left the body, they used magnetism to help it out. But there was still a connection that had to be cut quickly, which gave the spirit a little jolt, like when you have something amputated; but it was necessary. He believes this needs to happen in every case. If the body is to be burned, spirit doctors assist with the transition. He doesn’t mean that a spirit body comes out of its physical body, but rather an essence oozes out, he says, and goes into the other body that’s being prepared. It oozes, he explains, like a string. String, that’s his term. Then it seems to take shape, or something meets it and forms around it. It’s like they connect and combine to create a duplicate of the body left behind. It’s all very fascinating.[23]
He told Lionel about his wanting a suit at first [at an unreported second sitting]. He never thought that they would be able to provide him with one.
He told Lionel that he wanted a suit at first [at an unreported second sitting]. He never thought they would be able to get him one.
O. J. L. —Yes, I know, Lionel told us; that you wanted something more like your old clothes at first, and that they didn't force you into new ones, but let you begin with the old kind, until you got accustomed to the place (p. 189).
O. J. L. —Yeah, I understand. Lionel said you initially wanted something closer to your old clothes, and that they didn’t push you into new ones. They let you stick with the old style until you got accustomed to the place (p. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__).
Yes, he says, they didn't force me, but most of the people here wear white robes.
Yes, he says, they didn't make me do it, but most of the people here are in white robes.
O. J. L.—Then, can you tell any difference between men and women?
O. J. L.—So, can you see any difference between men and women?
There are men here, and there are women here. I don't think that they stand to each other quite the same as they did on the earth plane, but they seem to have the same feeling to each other, with a different expression of it. There don't seem to be any children born here. People are sent into the physical body to have children on the earth plane; they don't have them here. But there's a feeling of love between men and women here which is of a different quality to that between two men or two women; and husband and wife seem to meet differently from mother and son, or father and daughter. He says he doesn't want to eat now. But he sees some who do; he says they have to be given something which has all the appearance of an earth food. People here try to provide everything that is wanted. A chap came over the other day, would would have a cigar. "That's finished them," he thought. He means he thought they would never be able to provide that. But there are laboratories over here, and they manufacture all sorts of things in them. Not like you do, out of solid matter, but out of essences, and ethers, and gases. It's not the same as on the earth plane, but they were able to manufacture what looked like a cigar. He didn't try one himself, because he didn't care to; you know he wouldn't want to. But the other chap jumped at it. But when he began to smoke it, he didn't think so much of it; he had four altogether, and now he doesn't look at one.[24] They don't seem to get the same satisfaction out of it, so gradually it seems to drop from them. But when they first [ 198] come they do want things. Some want meat, and some strong drink; they call for whisky sodas. Don't think I'm stretching it, when I tell you that they can manufacture even that. But when they have had one or two, they don't seem to want it so much—not those that are near here. He has heard of drunkards who want it for months and years over here, but he hasn't seen any. Those I have seen, he says, don't want it any more—like himself with his suit, he could dispense with it under the new conditions.
There are men here, and there are women here. I don’t think they relate to each other quite the same way as they did on Earth, but they seem to have the same feelings for each other, expressed differently. There don’t seem to be any children born here. People are sent into physical bodies to have children on Earth; they don’t have them here. But there’s a feeling of love between men and women here that's different from the one between two men or two women; and husbands and wives seem to meet differently from mothers and sons, or fathers and daughters. He says he doesn’t want to eat right now. But he sees some who do; he says they have to be given something that looks like Earth food. People here try to provide everything that’s needed. A guy came over the other day, wanted a cigar. “That’s done for them,” he thought. He meant he thought they would never be able to provide that. But there are laboratories here, and they make all sorts of things there. Not like you do, out of solid matter, but out of essences, ethers, and gases. It’s not the same as on Earth, but they were able to create something that looked like a cigar. He didn’t try one himself because he didn’t want to; you know he wouldn’t. But the other guy jumped at it. But when he started to smoke it, he didn’t think much of it; he had four in total, and now he doesn’t even look at one. They don’t seem to get the same satisfaction from it, so gradually it seems to fade away from them. But when they first come, they do want things. Some want meat, and some want strong drinks; they call for whiskey sodas. Don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say that they can make even that. But when they’ve had one or two, they don’t seem to want it as much—not those that are close by. He’s heard of alcoholics who want it for months and years here, but he hasn’t seen any. Those he has seen, he says, don’t want it anymore—just like him with his suit, he could do without it under the new conditions.
He wants people to realise that it's just as natural as on the earth plane.
He wants people to realize that it's just as natural as it is on Earth.
O. J. L.—Raymond, you said your house was made of bricks. How can that be? What are the bricks made of?
O.J.L.—Raymond, you mentioned that your house is made of bricks. How is that possible? What are the bricks made of?
That's what he hasn't found out yet. He is told by some, who he doesn't think would lead him astray, that they are made from sort of emanations from the earth. He says there's something rising, like atoms rising, and consolidating after they come; they are not solid when they come, but we can collect and concentrate them—I mean those that are with me. They appear to be bricks, and when I touch them, they feel like bricks; and I have seen granite too.
That's what he still hasn't figured out. Some people, who he trusts not to mislead him, tell him that they're made from some sort of energy from the earth. He says there's something rising, like atoms coming up and coming together once they arrive; they're not solid when they first come, but we can gather and focus them—I mean the ones that are with me. They seem to be like bricks, and when I touch them, they feel like bricks; and I've seen granite too.
There's something perpetually rising from your plane; practically invisible—in atoms when it leaves your plane—but when it comes to the ether, it gains certain other qualities round each atom, and by the time it reaches us, certain people take it in hand, and manufacture solid things from it. Just as you can manufacture solid things.
There's something constantly rising from your plane; almost invisible—in atoms when it departs your plane—but when it enters the ether, it acquires different qualities around each atom, and by the time it reaches us, some people grab it and create solid things from it. Just like you can create solid things.
All the decay that goes on on the earth plane is not lost. It doesn't just form manure or dust. Certain vegetable and decayed tissue does form manure for a time, but it gives off an essence or a gas, which ascends, and which becomes what you call a 'smell.' Everything dead has a smell, if you notice; and I know now that the smell is of actual use, because it is from that smell that we are able to produce duplicates of whatever [ 199] form it had before it became a smell. Even old wood has a smell different from new wood; you may have to have a keen nose to detect these things on the earth plane.
All the decay that happens on Earth isn't wasted. It doesn't just turn into manure or dust. Some plants and decomposed tissue create manure for a while, but they also release an essence or gas that rises up, becoming what we refer to as a 'smell.' Everything that's dead has a smell, if you pay attention; and I've learned that this smell serves a purpose, as it allows us to create duplicates of whatever [ 199] form it had before it started to smell. Even old wood has a different smell compared to new wood; you might need a sharp sense of smell to notice these differences here on Earth.
Old rags, he says (sotto voce.—Yes, all right, Feda will go back), cloth decaying and going rotten. Different kinds of cloth give off different smells—rotting linen smells different to rotting wool. You can understand how all this interests me. Apparently, as far as I can gather, the rotting wool appears to be used for making things like tweeds on our side. But I know I am jumping, I'm guessing at it. My suit I expect was made from decayed worsted on your side.[25]
Old rags, he says (quietly.—Yeah, sure, Feda will go back), fabric that's falling apart and going bad. Different types of fabric have different smells—rotting linen smells different from rotting wool. You can see why this fascinates me. Apparently, from what I can tell, the rotting wool seems to be used to make things like tweeds on our side. But I know I'm jumping ahead, just making guesses. I expect my suit was made from decayed worsted on your side.[25]
Some people here won't take this in even yet—about the material cause of all these things. They go talking about spiritual robes made of light, built by the thoughts on the earth plane. I don't believe it. They go about thinking that it is a thought robe that they're wearing, resulting from the spiritual life they led; and when we try to tell them that it is manufactured out of materials, they don't believe it. They say, "No, no, it's a robe of light and brightness which I manufactured by thought." So we just leave it. But I don't say that they won't get robes quicker when they have led spiritual lives down there; I think they do, and that's what makes them think that they made the robes by their lives.
Some people here still can’t accept this—about the real reason behind all these things. They talk about spiritual robes made of light, created by thoughts on the earthly plane. I don’t buy it. They believe they're wearing a thought robe that comes from the spiritual life they lived; and when we try to explain that it’s made from materials, they don’t accept it. They say, "No, no, it's a robe of light and brightness that I created with my thoughts." So we just let it be. But I’m not saying they won’t get robes faster after leading spiritual lives down there; I believe they do, and that’s what makes them think they created the robes through their lives.
You know flowers, how they decay. We have got flowers here; your decayed flowers flower again with us—beautiful flowers. Lily has helped me a lot with flowers.
You know how flowers wither away. We have flowers here; your wilted flowers bloom again with us—gorgeous flowers. Lily has really helped me a lot with the flowers.
O. J. L.—Do you like her?
O. J. L.—Do you like her?
Yes, but he didn't expect to see her.
Yes, but he was surprised to see her.
(Feda, sotto voce.—No. Raymond, you don't mean that.)
(Feda, sotto voce.—No. Raymond, you can't be serious.)
Yes, he does. He says he's afraid he wasn't very polite to her when he met her at first; he didn't expect a grown-up sister there. Am I a little brother, he said, or is she my little sister? She [ 200] calls me her little brother, but I have a decided impression that she should be my little sister.
Yes, he does. He says he's afraid he wasn't very polite to her when they first met; he didn't expect an adult sister to be there. "Am I the younger brother," he said, "or is she my younger sister?" She [ 200] calls me her little brother, but I really feel like she should be my little sister.
He feels a bit of a mystery: he has got a brother there he knows, but he says two.
He feels a bit mysterious: he has a brother there he knows, but he says two.
(Sotto voce.—No, Yaymond, you can't have two. No, Feda doesn't understand.) Is it possible, he says, that he has got another brother—one that didn't live at all?
(Sotto voce.—No, Yaymond, you can't have two. No, Feda doesn't understand.) Is it possible, he asks, that he has another brother—one who never lived?
O. J. L.—Yes, it is possible.
O. J. L.—Yes, it’s possible.
But he says, no earth life at all! That's what's strange. I've seen some one that I am told is a brother, but I can't be expected to recognise him, can I? I feel somehow closer to Lily than I do to that one. By and by I will get to know him, I dare say.
But he says there's no life on earth at all! That's what's weird. I've seen someone who I'm told is a brother, but I can't just recognize him, can I? I feel somehow closer to Lily than I do to him. Eventually, I guess I'll get to know him.
I'm told that I am doing very well in the short time I have been here. Taking to it—what he say?—duck to water, he say.
I'm told that I'm doing really well in the short time I've been here. Taking to it—what does he say?—like a duck to water, he says.
O. J. L.—You know the earth is rolling along through space. How do you keep up with it?
O. J. L.—You know the earth is moving through space. How do you keep up with it?
It doesn't seem like that to him.
It doesn't seem that way to him.
O. J. L.—No, I suppose not. Do you see the stars?
O.J.L.—No, I guess not. Do you see the stars?
Yes, he sees the stars. The stars seem like what they did, only he feels closer to them. Not really closer, but they look clearer; not appreciably closer, he says.
Yes, he sees the stars. The stars look like they always did, but he feels more connected to them. Not actually closer, but they appear clearer; not noticeably closer, he says.
O. J. L.—Are they grouped the same? Do you see the Great Bear, for instance?
O. J. L.—Are they clustered the same way? Can you see the Great Bear, for example?
Oh, yes, he sees the Great Bear. And he sees the ch, ch, chariot, he says.
Oh, yes, he sees the Great Bear. And he sees the ch, ch, chariot, he says.
O. J. L.—Do you mean Cassiopeia?
O. J. L.—Are you talking about Cassiopeia?
Yes. [But I don't suppose he did.]
Yes. [But I don't think he did.]
There's one more mystery to him yet, it doesn't seem day and night quite by regular turns, like it did on the earth.
There's one more mystery about him; it doesn't feel like day and night change regularly, like they did on Earth.
O. J. L.—But I suppose you see the sun?
O.J.L.—But I guess you can see the sun?
Yes, he sees the sun; but it seems always about the same degree of warmth, he doesn't feel heat or cold where he is. The sun doesn't make him uncomfortably hot. That is not because the sun has lost its heat, but because he hasn't got the same body that sensed the heat. When he [ 201] comes into contact with the earth plane, and is manifesting, then he feels a little cold or warm—at least he does when a medium is present—not when he comes in the ordinary way just to look round. When he sang last night, he felt cold for a minute or two.
Yes, he sees the sun; but it always feels like it’s about the same level of warmth; he doesn’t feel heat or cold where he is. The sun doesn’t make him too hot. That’s not because the sun has lost its heat, but because he doesn’t have the same body that sensed the heat. When he [ 201] interacts with the physical world, and is present, then he feels a little cold or warm—at least he does when a medium is around—not when he just comes to look around. When he sang last night, he felt cold for a minute or two.
O. J. L.—Did he sing?
Did he perform?
Yes, he and Paulie had a scuffle. Paulie was singing first, and Yaymond thought he would like to sing too, so he chipped in at the end. He sang about three verses. It wasn't difficult, because there was a good deal of power there. Also nobody except Mrs. Kathie knew who he was, and so all eyes were not on him, and they were not expecting it, and that made it easier for him. He says it wasn't so difficult as keeping up a conversation; he just took the organs there, and materialised his own voice in her throat. He didn't find it very difficult, he hadn't got to think of anything, or collect his ideas; there was an easy flow of words, and he just sang. And I did sing, he says; I thought I'd nearly killed the medium. She hadn't any voice at all after. When he heard himself that he had really got it, he had to let go. Raised the roof, he says, and he did enjoy it!
Yes, he and Paulie had a bit of a fight. Paulie was singing first, and Yaymond thought he’d like to join in, so he added his voice at the end. He sang about three verses. It wasn’t hard because there was a lot of energy in the room. Also, nobody except Mrs. Kathie knew who he was, so everyone wasn’t focused on him, and they weren’t expecting it, which made it easier for him. He says it wasn’t as tough as keeping up a conversation; he just took the vibes around him and let his voice flow through her. He didn’t find it very challenging; he didn’t have to think of anything or organize his thoughts; there was a natural flow of words, and he just sang. And I did sing, he says; I thought I might have nearly exhausted the medium. She didn’t have any voice left after that. When he found out that he was really nailing it, he had to just go for it. Raised the roof, he says, and he did enjoy it!
(Here Feda gave an amused chuckle with a jump and a squeak.)
(Here Feda let out an amused laugh with a jump and a squeak.)
He was just practising there, Yaymond says. At first he thought it wouldn't be easy.
He was just practicing there, Yaymond says. At first, he thought it wouldn't be easy.
[This relates to what I am told was a real occurrence at a private gathering; but it is not evidential.]
[This relates to what I’ve heard was a real event at a private gathering; but it’s not proof.]
O. J. L.—Raymond, you know you want to give me some proofs. What kind of proofs do you think are best? Have you talked it over with Mr. Myers, and have you decided on the kind of proof that will be most evidential?
O. J. L.—Raymond, you know you want to share some evidence with me. What kind of evidence do you think is the most convincing? Have you talked it over with Mr. Myers, and have you determined what type of proof will be the most solid?
I don't know yet. I feel divided between two ways: One is to give you objective proof, such as simple materialisations and direct voice, which you can set down and have attested. Or [ 202] else I should have to give you information about my different experiences here, either something like what I am doing now, or through the table, or some other way. But he doesn't know whether he will be able to do the two things together.
I don't know yet. I feel torn between two options: One is to give you solid proof, like straightforward materializations and direct voices, which you can record and verify. Or [ 202] I could share details about my various experiences here, either like I'm doing now, or through the table, or some other method. But he isn't sure if he can do both things at the same time.
O. J. L.—No, not likely, not at the same time. But you can take opportunities of saying more about your life there.
O. J. L.—No, probably not, not at the same time. But you can find chances to share more about your life there.
Yes, that's why he has been collecting information. He does so want to encourage people to look forward to a life they will certainly have to enter upon, and realise that it is a rational life. All this that he has been giving you now, and that I gave to Lionel, you must sort out, and put in order, because I can only give it scrappily. I want to study things here a lot. Would you think it selfish if I say I wouldn't like to be back now?—I wouldn't give this up for anything. Don't think it selfish, or that I want to be away from you all. I have still got you, because I feel you so close, closer even. I wouldn't come back, I wouldn't for anything that anyone could give me.
Yes, that's why he's been gathering information. He really wants to inspire people to look forward to a life they will definitely experience and realize it's a logical life. Everything he's shared with you now, and what I shared with Lionel, you need to organize and make sense of, because I can only give it to you in fragments. I want to dive deep into things here. Would you think it's selfish if I said I wouldn't want to go back right now?—I wouldn't trade this for anything. Please don't see it as selfish, or think I want to be away from all of you. I still feel connected to you, even more so. I wouldn't return, not for anything anyone could offer me.
He hardly liked to put it that way to his mother.
He didn't really want to say it that way to his mom.
Is Alec here? (Feda looking round.)
Is Alec here? (Feda looks around.)
O. J. L.—No, but I hope he will be coming.
O. J. L.—No, but I hope he shows up.
Tell him not to say who he is. I did enjoy myself that first time that Lionel came—I could talk for hours.
Tell him not to reveal who he is. I really had a good time the first time Lionel came—I could chat for hours.
(O. J. L. had here looked at his watch quietly.)
(O. J. L. had quietly looked at his watch.)
I could talk for hours; don't go yet.
I could chat for hours; don’t leave just yet.
He says he thinks he was lucky when he passed on, because he had so many to meet him. That came, he knows now, through your having been in with this thing for so long. He wants to impress this on those that you will be writing for: that it makes it so much easier for them if they and their friends know about it beforehand. It's awful when they have passed over and won't believe it for weeks,—they just think they're dreaming. And they won't realise things at all sometimes. He [ 203] doesn't mind telling you now that, just at first, when he woke up, he felt a little depression. But it didn't last long. He cast his eyes round, and soon he didn't mind. But it was like finding yourself in a strange place, like a strange city; with people you hadn't seen, or not seen for a long time, round you. Grandfather was with me straight away; and presently Robert. I got mixed up between two Roberts. And there's some one called Jane comes to him, who calls herself an aunt, he says. Jane. He's uncertain about her. Jane—Jennie. She calls herself an aunt; he is told to call her 'Aunt Jennie.' Is she my Aunt Jennie? he says.
He says he thinks he was lucky when he moved on because he had so many people waiting for him. He knows now that this happened because you’ve been involved with this for so long. He wants to emphasize this to those you’ll be writing for: it really helps them if they and their friends know about it ahead of time. It’s terrible when they’ve passed and don’t believe it for weeks—they just think they’re dreaming. Sometimes they don’t realize what’s happening at all. He [ 203] doesn’t mind telling you now that, at first, when he woke up, he felt a little down. But it didn’t last long. He looked around, and soon he was fine. But it was like finding yourself in a strange place, like an unfamiliar city, with people you hadn’t seen, or hadn’t seen in a long time, around you. Grandfather was with me right away, and soon Robert showed up. I got confused between two Roberts. And there’s someone named Jane who comes to him and calls herself an aunt, he says. Jane. He’s unsure about her. Jane—Jennie. She calls herself an aunt; he’s told to call her ‘Aunt Jennie.’ Is she my Aunt Jennie? he asks.
O. J. L.—No, but your mother used to call her that.
O.J.L.—No, but your mom used to call her that.
[And so on, simple talk about family and friends.]
[And so on, casual conversation about family and friends.]
He has brought that doggie again, nice doggie. A doggie that goes like this, and twists about (Feda indicating a wriggle). He has got a nice tail, not a little stumpy tail, nice tail with nice hair on it. He sits up like that sometimes, and comes down again, and puts his tongue out of his mouth. He's got a cat too, plenty of animals, he says. He hasn't seen any lions and tigers, but he sees horses, cats, dogs, and birds. He says you know this doggie; he has nice hair, a little wavy, which sticks up all over him, and has twists at the end. Now he's jumping round. He hasn't got a very pointed face, but it isn't like a little pug-dog either; it's rather a long shape. And he has nice ears what flaps, not standing up; nice long hairs on them too. A darkish colour he looks, darkish, as near as Feda can see him. [See photograph, p. 278.]
He brought that dog again, such a nice dog. A dog that moves like this and wriggles around (Feda indicating a wiggle). It's got a nice tail, not a little stumpy one, but a nice one with lovely fur. Sometimes it sits up like that, then comes down and sticks its tongue out. He has a cat too, lots of animals, he says. He hasn’t seen any lions or tigers, but he sees horses, cats, dogs, and birds. He says you know this dog; it has nice hair, a bit wavy, sticking up all over, with twists at the ends. Now it's jumping around. Its face isn’t very pointed, but it’s not like a little pug either; it's more of a long shape. And it has nice ears that flop down, not standing up; with long fur on them too. It looks pretty dark, as dark as Feda can see. [See photograph, p. 278.]
O. J. L.—Does he call him by any name?
O.J.L.—Does he refer to him by any name?
He says, 'Not him.'
He says, 'Not him.'
(Sotto voce.—What you mean 'not him'? It is a 'him'; you don't call him 'it.')
(Sotto voce.—What do you mean 'not him'? It is a 'him'; you don't call him 'it.')
No, he won't explain. No, he didn't give it a name. It can jump.
No, he won't explain. No, he didn't name it. It can jump.
[All this about a she-dog called Curly, whose death had been specially mentioned by 'Myers' through another medium some years ago,—an incident reported privately [ 204] to the S.P.R. at the time,—is quite good as far as it goes.]
[All this about a female dog named Curly, whose death was specifically mentioned by 'Myers' through another medium a few years ago,—an incident reported privately [ 204] to the S.P.R. at the time,—is pretty good for what it is.]
He has met a spirit here, he says, who knows you—G. Nothing to do with the other G. Some one that's a very fine sort indeed. His name begins with G—Gal, Gals, Got, Got,—he doesn't know him very well, but it sounds like that. It isn't who you feel, though it might have been, nothing to do with that at all. Some one called Golt—he didn't know him, but he is interested in you, and had met you.
He says he’s met a spirit here who knows you—G. It’s not connected to the other G. It’s someone who’s truly impressive. His name starts with G—Gal, Gals, Got, Got—he doesn’t know him very well, but it sounds like that. It’s not about how you feel, even though it could have been; it’s not related to that at all. Someone named Golt—he didn’t know him, but he’s interested in you and has met you.
It's surprising how many people come up to me, he says, and shake me by the hand, and speak to me. I don't know them from Adam. (Sotto voce.—Adam, he say.) But they are doing me honour here, and some of them are such fine men. He doesn't know them, but they all seem to be interested in you, and they say, "Oh, are you his son?—how-do-you-do?"
It's surprising how many people come up to me, he says, shake my hand, and talk to me. I don’t know them at all. (Sotto voce.—Adam, he says.) But they are honoring me here, and some of them are really impressive. He doesn’t know them, but they all seem interested in you, and they say, "Oh, are you his son?—nice to meet you!"
Feda is losing control.
Feda is losing control.
O. J. L.—Well, good-bye, Raymond, then, and God bless you.
O. J. L.—Well, goodbye, Raymond, and take care.
God bless you. I do so want you to know that I am very happy. And bless them all. My love to you. I can't tell what I feel, but you can guess. It's difficult to put into words. My love to all. God bless you and everybody. Good-bye, father.
God bless you. I really want you to know that I’m very happy. And bless them all. Sending my love to you. I can't quite express what I feel, but you can probably guess. It's hard to find the right words. My love to everyone. God bless you and everyone. Goodbye, father.
O. J. L.—Good-bye, Raymond. Good-bye, Feda.
O. J. L.—Goodbye, Raymond. Goodbye, Feda.
(Feda here gave a jerk, and a 'good-bye.')
(Feda here jerked and said, 'goodbye.')
Love to her what 'longs to you, and to Lionel. Feda knows what your name is, 'Soliver,' yes. (Another squeak.)
Love to her what longs for you, and to Lionel. Feda knows your name, 'Soliver,' yes. (Another squeak.)
(Sitting ended 8.20 p.m.)
(Sitting ended at 8:20 p.m.)
The conclusion of sittings is seldom of an evidential character, and by most people would not be recorded; but occasionally it may be best to quote one completely, just as a specimen of what may be called the 'manner' of a sitting.
The end of meetings rarely provides evidence that would typically be noted by most people; however, there are times when it might be beneficial to fully quote one, just as an example of what could be described as the 'style' of a meeting.
Footnotes
Footnotes
[22] Alec had had a sitting with Peters, not with Mrs. Leonard.
[23] I confess that I think that Feda may have got a great deal of this, perhaps all of it, from people who have read or written some of the books referred to in my introductory remarks. But inasmuch as her other utterances are often evidential, I feel that I have no right to pick and choose; especially as I know nothing about it, one way or the other.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__ I admit that I think Feda might have gotten a lot of this, maybe all of it, from people who have read or written some of the books I mentioned in my introduction. However, since her other statements are usually supportive, I feel like I shouldn't be picky; especially since I don't know anything about it, either way.
[24] Some of this Feda talk is at least humorous.
[25] I have not yet traced the source of all this supposed information.
CHAPTER 17
K. K. Automatic Writing
ON 17 December 1915, I was talking to Mrs. Kennedy when her hand began to write, and I had a short conversation which may be worth reporting:—
ON 17 December 1915, I was talking to Mrs. Kennedy when her hand started to write, and I had a brief conversation that might be worth sharing:—
I have been here such a long time, please tell father I am here—Raymond.
I’ve been here for such a long time, please tell Dad I’m here—Raymond.
O. J. L.—My boy!
O. J. L.—My dude!
Dear father!
Dear Dad!
Father, it was difficult to say all one felt, but now I don't care. I love you. I love you intensely. Father, please speak to me.
Father, it was hard to express everything I felt, but now I don't care. I love you. I love you deeply. Father, please talk to me.
O. J. L.—I recognise it, Raymond. Have you anything to say for the folk at home?
O.J.L.—I get it, Raymond. Do you have anything to say to the folks back home?
I have been there to-day; I spoke to mother. I don't know if she heard me, but I rather think so. Please tell her this, and kiss her from me.
I was there today; I talked to mom. I’m not sure if she heard me, but I think she did. Please tell her this, and give her a kiss from me.
O. J. L.—She had a rather vivid dream or vision of you one morning lately. I don't know if it was a dream.
O. J. L.—She had a pretty intense dream or vision of you one morning recently. I'm not sure if it was just a dream.
I feel sure she will see me, but I don't know, because I am so often near her that I can't say yes or no to any particular time.
I’m pretty sure she’ll notice me, but I can’t say for sure, since I’m often close to her and can’t pinpoint a specific time.
O. J. L.—Raymond, you know it is getting near Christmas now?
O.J.L.—Raymond, you know Christmas is coming up soon, right?
I know. I shall be there; keep jolly or it hurts me horribly. Truly, I know it is difficult, but you must know by now that I am so splendid. I shall never be one instant out of the house on Christmas Day. (Pause.)
I know. I’ll be there; stay cheerful or it really bothers me. Honestly, I know it’s tough, but you must realize by now that I’m doing great. I won’t step out of the house for even a moment on Christmas Day. (Pause.)
He has gone to fetch some one.—Paul.
He has gone to get someone.—Paul.
(K. K. presently said that Raymond had returned, and expected me to be aware of it.)
(K. K. currently mentioned that Raymond had come back, and assumed I knew about it.)
I have brought Mr. Myers. He says he doesn't often come to use this means, but he wants to speak for a moment.
I’ve brought Mr. Myers. He says he doesn’t usually use this method, but he wants to talk for a minute.
"Get free and go on," he says. "Don't let them trammel you. Get at it, Lodge."—Myers.
"Get free and move on," he says. "Don't let them hold you back. Go for it, Lodge." —Myers.
He has gone, tell my father.
He’s gone, tell my dad.
(O. J. L., sotto voce.—What does that mean?)
(O. J. L., under the breath.—What does that mean?)
(K. K.—I haven't an idea.)
K. K.—I have no idea.
O. J. L.—Has Myers gone right away?
O. J. L.—Did Myers leave right away?
"I have spoken, but I will speak again, if you keep quiet (meaning K. K.). Do cease to think, or you are useless. Tell Lodge I can't explain half his boy is to me. I feel as if I had my own dearly loved son here, yet I know he is only lent to me.
"I’ve talked, but I’ll say it again if you stay silent (meaning K. K.). Please stop thinking, or you’re useless. Tell Lodge I can’t explain how much his boy means to me. It feels like I have my own beloved son here, but I know he’s just on loan to me."
"Pardon me if I rarely use you (to K. K.); I can't stand the way you bother."—Myers.
"Pardon me if I rarely use you (to K. K.); I can't stand how you annoy me."—Myers.
K. K.—Do you mean the way I get nervous if I am taking a message from you?
K.K.—Are you talking about how I get anxious when I’m taking a message from you?
"Yes, I do."
"Yep, I do."
[This interpolated episode was commented on by O. J. L. as very characteristic.]
[This added episode was noted by O. J. L. as being very typical.]
O. J. L.—Is Raymond still there?
O. J. L.—Is Raymond still around?
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Raymond, do you know we've got that photograph you spoke of? Mrs. Cheves sent us it, the mother of Cheves—Captain Cheves, you remember him?
O. J. L.—Raymond, did you know we have that photo you talked about? Mrs. Cheves sent it to us, the mother of Cheves—Captain Cheves, remember him?
Yes, I know you have the photograph.
Yes, I know you have the photo.
O. J. L.—Yes, and your description of it was very good. And we have seen the man leaning on you. Was there another one taken of you?
O. J. L.—Yes, you explained it really well. We've seen the guy depending on you. Was there another one taken of you?
K. K.—'Four,' he says 'four.' Did you say 'four,' Raymond?
K. K.—"Four," he says, "four." Did you say "four," Raymond?
Yes, I did.
Yeah, I did.
O. J. L.—Yes, we have those taken of you by yourself, but was another taken of you with other officers?
O. J. L.—Yes, we have those photos of you alone, but was there another one taken of you with other officers?
I hear, father; I shall look, but I think you have had the one I want you to have; I have seen [ 207] you looking at it. I have heard all that father has said. It is ripping to come like this. Tell my father I have enjoyed it.—Raymond.
I hear you, dad; I'll take a look, but I believe you already have the one I want you to have; I've seen [ 207] you checking it out. I've heard everything dad has said. It's great to come like this. Let my dad know I've enjoyed it.—Raymond.
O. J. L.—Before you go, Raymond, I want to ask a serious question. Have you been let to see Christ?
O. J. L.—Before you leave, Raymond, I need to ask you something important. Have you had a chance to see Christ?
Father, I shall see him presently. It is not time yet. I am not ready. But I know he lives, and I know he comes here. All the sad ones see him if no one else can help them. Paul has seen him: you see he had such a lot of pain, poor chap. I am not expecting to see him yet, father. I shall love to when it's the time.—Raymond.
Father, I will see him soon. It’s not time yet. I’m not ready. But I know he’s alive, and I know he comes here. All the sad ones see him when no one else can help them. Paul has seen him: you can see he had so much pain, poor guy. I’m not expecting to see him yet, Dad. I will love to when the time comes.—Raymond.
O. J. L.—Well, we shall be very happy this Christmas I think.
O. J. Simpson—Well, I think we’re going to have a wonderful Christmas this year.
Father, tell mother she has her son with her all day on Christmas Day. There will be thousands and thousands of us back in the homes on that day, but the horrid part is that so many of the fellows don't get welcomed. Please keep a place for me. I must go now. Bless you again, father.—Raymond.
Father, please tell Mom she has her son with her all day on Christmas Day. There will be thousands of us back home on that day, but the awful part is that so many of the guys don’t get a warm welcome. Please save a spot for me. I have to go now. Bless you again, Dad.—Raymond.
(Paul then wrote a few words to his mother.)
(Paul then wrote a few words to his mom.)
CHAPTER 18
FIRST MEETING OF ALEC WITH MRS. LEONARD
ON 21 December 1915 Alec had his first sitting with
Mrs. Leonard; but he did not manage to go quite
anonymously—the medium knew that he was my
son. Again there is a good deal of unverifiable matter,
which whether absurd or not I prefer not to suppress; my
reasons are indicated in Chapters xii and xvi Part II,
and xi Part III.
ON 21 December 1915, Alec had his first session with Mrs. Leonard; however, he couldn't remain completely anonymous—the medium knew he was my son. There is quite a bit of unverifiable information, which, whether it seems ridiculous or not, I choose not to hide; my reasons are explained in Chapters xii and xvi Part II, and xi Part III.
Alec's (A. M. L.'s) Sitting with Mrs. Leonard at her House
on Tuesday Afternoon, 21 December 1915, 3.15 to 4.30 p.m.
(Medium knows I am Sir Oliver Lodge's son.)
(Medium knows I am Sir Oliver Lodge's son.)
Front room; curtains drawn; dark; small red lamp. No one else present.
Front room; curtains closed; dim; small red lamp. No one else is there.
Mrs. Leonard shook hands saying, "Mr. Lodge?"
Mrs. Leonard shook hands and said, "Mr. Lodge?"
(Medium begins by rubbing her own hands vigorously.)
(Medium begins by rubbing her hands together vigorously.)
Good morning! This is Feda.
Good morning! I'm Feda.
Raymond's here. He would have liked A and B.
Raymond's here. He would have liked A and B.
(Feda, sotto voce.—What you mean, A and B?)
(Feda, whispers.—What do you mean, A and B?)
Oh, he would have liked to talk to A and B. [See Note A.] He says: "I wish you could see me, I am so pleased; but you know I am pleased."
Oh, he would have liked to talk to A and B. [See Note A.] He says: "I wish you could see me, I'm so happy; but you know I'm happy."
He has been trying hard to get to you at home. He thinks he is getting closer, and better able to understand the conditions which govern this way of communicating. He thinks that in a little while he will be able to give actual tests [ 209] at home. He knows he has got through, but not satisfactorily. He gets so far, and then flounders.
He has been working hard to reach you at home. He feels like he's getting closer and is better able to understand the conditions that influence this way of communicating. He believes that soon he'll be able to conduct real tests at home. He knows he has made some progress, but not enough. He gets partway there and then struggles.
(Feda, sotto voce.—That's what fishes do!)
(Feda, sotto voce.—That's what fish do!)
He says he is feeling splendid. He did not think it was possible to feel so well.
He says he feels great. He didn't think it was possible to feel this good.
He was waiting here; he knew you were coming, but thought you might not be able to come to-day. [Train half an hour late.]
He was waiting here; he knew you were coming, but thought you might not make it today. [Train half an hour late.]
Did you take notice of what he said about the place he is in?
Did you pay attention to what he said about the place he's in?
A. M. L.—Yes. But I find it very difficult to understand.
A. M. L.—Yes. But I find it really hard to understand.
He says, it is such a solid place, I have not got over it yet. It is so wonderfully real.
He says, it’s such a solid place, I still can’t get over it. It feels so incredibly real.
He spoke about a river to his father; he has not seen the sea yet. He has found water, but doesn't know whether he will find a sea. He is making new discoveries every day. So much is new, although of course not to people who have been here some time.
He talked about a river to his dad; he hasn't seen the ocean yet. He has found water, but he doesn't know if he'll find the sea. He’s making new discoveries every day. So much is new, although, of course, not to those who have been here for a while.
He went into the library with his grandfather—Grandfather William—and also somebody called Richard, and he says the books there seem to be the same as you read.
He went into the library with his grandfather—Grandfather William—and also someone named Richard, and he says the books there seem to be the same as the ones you read.
Now this is extraordinary: There are books there not yet published on the earth plane. He is told—only told, he does not know if it is correct—that those books will be produced, books like those that are there now; that the matter in them will be impressed on the brain of some man, he supposes an author.
Now this is remarkable: There are books there that haven’t been published on Earth yet. He’s been told—just told, he doesn’t know if it’s true—that those books will be created, books like the ones that are there now; that the content will be imprinted on the mind of some man, he assumes an author.
He says that not everybody on his plane is allowed to read those books; they might hurt them—that is, the books not published yet. Father is going to write one—not the one on now, but a fresh one.
He says that not everyone on his plane can read those books; they might hurt them—that is, the books that haven't been published yet. Dad is going to write one—not the one he's working on now, but a new one.
Has his father found out who it was, beginning with G, who said he was going to help (meaning help Raymond) for his father's sake? It was not the person he thought it was at the time (p. 204).
Has his father figured out who it was, starting with G, who claimed he was going to help (which meant helping Raymond) for his father's sake? It wasn’t the person he thought it was back then (p. 204).
It is very difficult to get things through. He wants to keep saying how pleased he is to come.
It’s really hard to get things done. He keeps saying how happy he is to be here.
There are hundreds of things he will think of after he is gone.
There are hundreds of things he will think about after he's gone.
He has brought Lily, and William—the young one——
He has brought Lily and William—the younger one—
(Feda, sotto voce.—I don't know whether it is right, but he appears to have two brothers.)
(Feda, sotto voce.—I'm not sure if it's okay, but it looks like he has two brothers.)
[Two brothers as well as a sister died in extreme infancy. He would hardly know that, normally.—O. J. L.]
Two brothers and a sister passed away in early childhood. He probably wouldn’t understand that, typically.—O. J. L.
A. M. L.—Feda, will you ask Raymond if he would like me to ask some questions?
A. M. L.—Feda, can you check with Raymond if he wants me to ask him some questions?
Yes, with pleasure, he says.
Sure, he replies happily.
A. M. L.—A little time ago, Raymond said he was with mother. Mother would like to know if he can say what she was doing when he came? Ask Raymond to think it over, and see if he can remember?
A. M. L.—Recently, Raymond said he was with Mom. Mom wants to know if he remembers what she was doing when he got there. Ask Raymond to think about it and see if he can recall.
Yes, yes. She'd got some wool and scissors. She had a square piece of stuff—he is showing me this—she was working on the square piece of stuff. He shows me that she was cutting the wool with the scissors.
Yes, yes. She had some wool and scissors. She was working on a square piece of material—he is showing me this. He shows me that she was cutting the wool with the scissors.
Another time, she was in bed.
Another time, she was lying in bed.
She was in a big chair—dark covered——
She was in a large chair—darkly covered—
A. M. L.—Ask Raymond if he can remember which room she was in?
A. M. L.—Ask Raymond if he remembers which room she was in?
(Pause.)
(Pause.)
He can't remember. He can't always see more than a corner of the room—it appears vapourish and shadowy.
He can't remember. He can't always see more than a corner of the room—it looks hazy and shadowy.
He often comes when you're in bed.
He often shows up when you're in bed.
He tried to call out loudly: he shouted, 'Alec, Alec!' but he didn't get any answer. That is what puzzles him. He thinks he has shouted, but apparently he has not even manufactured a whisper.
He tried to call out loudly: he shouted, 'Alec, Alec!' but he didn't get any response. That’s what confuses him. He believes he has shouted, but it seems he didn't even manage to make a whisper.
A. M. L.—Feda, will you ask Raymond if he can remember trivial things that happened, as these things often make the best tests?
A. M. L.—Feda, could you ask Raymond if he remembers any small, trivial events? These details often end up being the most useful tests.
He says he can now and again.
He says he can every now and then.
A. M. L.—The questions that father asked about 'Evinrude,' 'Dartmoor,' and 'Argonauts,' are all trivial, [ 211] but make good tests, as father knows nothing about them.
A. M. L.—The questions Dad asked about 'Evinrude,' 'Dartmoor,' and 'Argonauts' are all trivial, [ 211] but they're useful tests because Dad doesn't know anything about them.
Yes, Raymond quite understands. He is just as keen as you are to give those tests.
Yes, Raymond totally gets it. He's just as eager as you are to take those tests.
A. M. L.—Ask Raymond if the word 'Evinrude' in connexion with a holiday trip reminds him of anything?
A. M. L.—Ask Raymond if the word 'Evinrude' in relation to a holiday trip brings anything to mind?
Yes. (Definitely.)
Yes. (For sure.)
A. M. L.—And 'Argonauts'?
A. M. L.—And "Argonauts"?
Yes. (Definitely.)
Yes.
A. M. L.—And 'Dartmoor'?
A. M. L.—And 'Dartmoor'?
Yes. (Definitely.)
Yep. (For sure.)
A. M. L.—Well, don't answer the questions now, but if father asks them again, see if you can remember anything.
A. M. L.—Okay, don’t respond to the questions right now, but if Dad asks them again, try to remember anything you can.
(While Alec was speaking, Feda was getting a message simultaneously:—)
(While Alec was speaking, Feda was receiving a message at the same time:—)
He says something burst.
He says something exploded.
A. M. L.—Tell Raymond I am quite sure he gets things through occasionally, but that I think often the meaning comes through altered, and very often appears to be affected by the sitter. It appears to me that they usually get what they expect.
A. M. L.—Tell Raymond that I'm fairly confident he gets things right occasionally, but I believe the meaning often comes through differently and is often shaped by the person he's interpreting. It seems to me that they generally receive what they anticipate.
Raymond says, "I only wish they did!" But in a way you are right. He is never able to give all he wishes. Sometimes only a word, which often must appear quite disconnected. Often the word does not come from his mind; he has no trace of it. Raymond says, for this reason it is a good thing to try, more, to come and give something definite at home. When you sit at the table, he feels sure that what he wants to say is influenced by some one at the table. Some one is helping him, some one at the table is guessing at the words. He often starts a word, but somebody finishes it.
Raymond says, "I just wish they did!" But in a way, you’re right. He can never express everything he wants. Sometimes it’s just a word, which often seems totally random. A lot of the time, the word doesn’t even come from his mind; he has no memory of it. Raymond believes that’s why it’s important to try harder, to come up with something specific at home. When he’s sitting at the table, he feels that what he wants to say is influenced by someone present. Someone is helping him; someone at the table is figuring out the words for him. Often, he starts a word, but someone else finishes it.
He asked father to let you come and not say who you were; he says it would have been a bit of fun.
He asked Dad to let you come without revealing who you were; he said it would have been a bit of fun.
A. M. L.—Ask Raymond if he can remember any characteristic things we used to talk about among ourselves?
A.M.L.—Ask Raymond if he can remember any specific things we used to discuss among ourselves?
Yes. He says you used to talk about cars.
Yes. He says you used to chat about cars.
(Feda, sotto voce.—What you mean? Everybody talks about cars!)
(Feda, quietly.—What do you mean? Everyone talks about cars!)
And singing. He used to fancy he could sing. He didn't sing hymns. On Thursday nights he has to sing hymns, but they are not in his line.
And singing. He used to think he could sing. He didn't sing hymns. On Thursday nights he has to sing hymns, but that's not his thing.
[On Thursday nights I am told that a circle holds sittings for developing the direct voice at Mrs. Leonard's, and that they sing hymns. Paul and Raymond have been said to join in. Cf. near end of Chapter XVI, p. 201.]
[On Thursday nights, I've heard that a group meets for direct voice sessions at Mrs. Leonard's place, and they sing hymns. Paul and Raymond are said to participate. Cf. near end of Chapter XVI, p. 201.]
A. M. L.—What used he to sing?
A.M.L.—What did he used to sing?
Hello—Hullalo—sounds like Hullulu—Hullulo. Something about 'Hottentot'; but he is going back a long way, he thinks. [See note in Appendix about this statement.]
Hello—Hullalo—sounds like Hullulu—Hullulo. Something about 'Hottentot'; but he's thinking he's going back a long way. [See note in Appendix about this statement.]
(Feda, sotto voce.—An orange lady?)
(Feda, sotto voce.—An orange woman?)
He says something about an orange lady.
He mentions something about a lady in orange.
(Feda, sotto voce.—Not what sold oranges?)
(Not what sold oranges?)
No, of course not. He says a song extolling the virtues and beauties of an orange lady.
No, of course not. He talks about a song celebrating the virtues and beauty of an orange lady.
[Song: "My Orange Girl." Excellent. The last song he bought.—A. M. L.]
[Song: "My Orange Girl." Great. The last song he purchased.—A. M. L.]
And a funny song which starts 'Ma,' but Feda can't see any more—like somebody's name. Also something about 'Irish eyes.' [See Note D.]
And a funny song that starts with 'Ma,' but Feda can't see any longer—like someone's name. Also something about 'Irish eyes.' [See Note D.]
(Feda, sotto voce.—Are they really songs?)
(Feda, whispering.—Are they really songs?)
Very much so.
Definitely.
(A number of unimportant incidents were now mentioned.)
(A number of minor incidents were now mentioned.)
He says it is somebody's birthday in January.
He says it’s someone’s birthday in January.
A. M. L.—It is.
A. M. L.—It is.
(Feda, sotto voce.—What's a beano? Whose birthday?)
(Feda, in a low voice.—What's a beano? Whose birthday?)
He won't say whose birthday. He says, He knows (meaning A.).
He won't say whose birthday it is. He says, He knows (meaning A.).
[Raymond's own birthday, 25 Jan., was understood.]
[Raymond's own birthday, January 25, was recognized.]
(More family talk.)
(More family chat.)
Yes, he says he is going now. He says the power is getting thin.
Yes, he says he's leaving now. He says the energy is fading.
A. M. L.—Wish him good luck from me, Feda.
A.M.L.—Send him my best wishes, Feda.
Love to all of them.
Love to everyone.
My love to you, old chap.
My love to you, my old friend.
Just before I go: Don't ever any of you regret my going. I believe I have got more to do than I could have ever done on the earth plane. It is only a case of waiting, and just meeting every one of you as you come across to him. He is going now. He says Willie too—young Willie. [His deceased brother.]
Just before I leave: Don't any of you regret my departure. I believe I have more to accomplish than I ever could have on this earthly plane. It's just a matter of waiting and meeting each of you as you come over to him. He is leaving now. He mentions Willie too—young Willie. [His deceased brother.]
(Feda, sotto voce.—Yes, what? Proclivities?)
(Feda, whispering.—Yes, what? Preferences?)
Oh, he is only joking.
Oh, he's just joking.
He says: Not Willie of the weary proplic—propensities—that's it.
He says: Not Willie of the tired tendencies—that's it.
He is joking. Just as many jokes here as ever before. Even when singing hymns. When he and Paul are singing, they do a funny dance with their arms. (Showing a sort of cake-walk—moving arms up and down.)
He’s joking. There are just as many jokes here as there were before. Even when singing hymns. When he and Paul sing, they do a funny dance with their arms. (They show a sort of cake-walk—moving their arms up and down.)
(Feda.—It's a silly dance, anyway.)
(Feda.—It's a goofy dance, anyway.)
Good-bye, and good luck.
Goodbye, and good luck.
[Characteristic; see, for instance, a letter of his on page 41 above. I happen to have just seen another letter, to Brodie, which concludes: "Well, good-bye, Brodie, and good luck."—O. J. L.]
[Characteristic; see, for instance, a letter from him on page 41 above. I just found another letter to Brodie that concludes with: "Well, goodbye Brodie, and good luck."—O. J. L.]
Yes, he is going. Yes. He is gone now, yes.
Yes, he's leaving. Yeah. He's gone now, for sure.
Do you want to say anything to Feda?
Do you want to say something to Feda?
A. M. L.—Yes, thank you very much for all your help. The messages are sometimes difficult, but it is most important to try and give exactly what you hear, and nothing more, whether you understand it or not.
A. M. L.—Yes, thank you very much for all your help. The messages can be tricky at times, but it’s essential to express exactly what you hear and nothing more, regardless of whether you understand it or not.
Feda understands. She only say exactly what she hear, even though it is double-Dutch. Don't forget to give my love to them all.
Feda gets it. She only says exactly what she hears, even if it sounds like total gibberish. Don't forget to send my love to everyone.
A. M. L.—Good-bye, Feda. (Shakes hands.)
A.M.L.—Goodbye, Feda. (Shakes hands.)
Medium comes-to in about two or three minutes.
Medium comes to in about two or three minutes.
(Signed) A. M. L.
(Signed) A. M. L.
21 December 1915
21 Dec 1915
[All written out fair same evening. Part on
way home, and part after arriving, without
disturbance from seeing anybody.]
[All written out that same evening. Some on the way home, and some after arriving, without being disturbed by seeing anyone.]
Notes by O. J. L. on the A. M. L. Record
This seems to have been a good average sitting; it
contains a few sufficiently characteristic remarks, but not
much evidential. What is said about songs in it, however,
is rather specially good. In further explanation, a
few notes, embodying more particular information obtained
by me from the family when reading the sitting
over to them, may now be added:—
This appears to have been a decent average session; it includes a few distinct comments, but not a lot of proof. However, what’s mentioned about songs in it is particularly impressive. To elaborate, I can now add a few notes that provide more detailed information I gathered from the family while sharing the session with them:—
NOTE A
The 'A and B' manifestly mean his brothers Alec and Brodie;
and there was a natural reason for bracketing them together,
inasmuch as they constitute the firm Lodge Brothers, with which
Raymond was already to a large extent, and hoped to be still
more closely, associated. But there may have been a minor point
in it, since between Alec and Brodie long ago, at their joint preparatory
school, there was a sort of joke, of which Raymond was
aware, about problems given in algebra and arithmetic books:
where, for instance, A buys so many dozen at some price, and
B buys some at another price; the question being to compare their
profits. Or where A does a piece of work in so many days, and
B does something else. It is usually not at all obvious, without
working out, which gets the better of it, A or B; and Alec seems
to have recognised, in the manner of saying A and B, some reference
to old family chaff on this subject.
The 'A and B' clearly refer to his brothers Alec and Brodie; and there was a good reason for putting them together, since they make up the firm Lodge Brothers, with which Raymond was already quite involved, and hoped to be even more connected. But there might have been a small detail in it, since a long time ago, at their shared preparatory school, there was a running joke between Alec and Brodie about problems found in algebra and arithmetic books: where, for example, A buys a certain number of dozens at one price, and B buys some at another price; the question being to compare their profits. Or where A completes a task in a certain number of days, and B does something else. It's usually not clear at all, without calculating, which one comes out ahead, A or B; and Alec seems to have recognized, in the way of saying A and B, a nod to old family teasing on this topic.
NOTE B
The reference to a square piece of stuff, cut with scissors,
suggests to his mother, not the wool-work which she is doing like
everybody else for soldiers, but the cutting of a circular piece out
of a Raymond blanket that came back with his kit, for the purpose
of covering a round four-legged table which was subsequently used
for sittings, in order to keep it clean without its having to be
dusted or otherwise touched by servants. It is not distinct enough
to be evidential, however.
The mention of a square piece of material, cut with scissors, reminds his mother, not of the wool crafts she's making like everyone else for the soldiers, but of cutting a circular piece from a Raymond blanket that returned with his kit. This was meant to cover a round, four-legged table that was later used for meals, to keep it clean without needing to be dusted or handled by the servants. However, it’s not clear enough to be definitive evidence.
NOTE C
About Dartmoor, "he says something burst." Incidents
referred to in a previous sitting, when I was there alone, were the
running downhill, clapping on brake, and swirling round corners
(p. 156); but all this was associated with, and partly caused by,
the bursting of the silencer in the night after the hilly country
had been reached. And it was the fearful noise subsequent to
the bursting of the silencer that the boys had expected him to
remember.
About Dartmoor, "he says something broke." Incidents mentioned in a previous session, when I was there alone, included running downhill, hitting the brakes, and swerving around corners (p. 156); but all this was linked to, and partly caused by, the silencer bursting during the night after we reached the hilly area. And it was the terrifying noise after the silencer burst that the boys thought he would remember.
NOTE D
The best evidential thing, however, is on p. 212—a reference to a song of his called "My Orange Girl." If the name of the song merely had been given, though good enough, it would not have been quite so good, because the name of a song is common property. But the particular mode of describing it, in such a way as to puzzle Feda, namely, "an orange lady," making her think rather of a market woman, is characteristic of Raymond—especially the sentence about "extolling her virtues and beauties," which is not at all appropriate to Feda, and is exactly like Raymond. So is "Willie of the weary proclivities."
The most telling piece of evidence, though, is on p. 212—a reference to one of his songs called "My Orange Girl." If only the name of the song had been mentioned, it would have been fine, but not as effective because the title of a song is common knowledge. However, the way it’s described, which confuses Feda by calling it "an orange lady," makes her think of a street vendor, and that’s typical of Raymond—especially the part about "extolling her virtues and beauties," which doesn’t really fit Feda at all and is very much like Raymond. Same goes for "Willie of the weary proclivities."
The song "Irish Eyes" was also, I find, quite correct. It seems to have been a comparatively recent song, which he had sung several times.
The song "Irish Eyes" was, I think, quite accurate. It appears to be a relatively new song that he had sung a few times.
Again, the song described thus by Feda:—
Again, the song described this way by Feda:—
"A funny song which starts Ma. But Feda can't see any more—like somebody's name."
"A funny song that starts with Ma. But Feda can't see anymore—like someone's name."
I find that the letters M A were pronounced separately—not as a word. To me the Ma had suggested one of those nigger songs about 'Ma Honey'—the kind of song which may have been indicated by the word 'Hottentot' above. But, at a later table sitting at Mariemont, he was asked what song he meant by the letters M A, and then he spelt out clearly the name 'Maggie.' This song was apparently unknown to those at the table, but was recognised by Norah, who was in the room, though not at the table, as a still more recent song of Raymond's, about "Maggie Magee." (See Appendix also.)
I noticed that the letters M A were pronounced separately—not as a single word. To me, the Ma reminded me of one of those songs about 'Ma Honey'—the kind of song that might be connected to the word 'Hottentot' mentioned earlier. However, later at a table in Mariemont, he was asked which song he meant by the letters M A, and he clearly spelled out the name 'Maggie.' This song seemed to be unfamiliar to everyone at the table, but Norah, who was in the room but not at the table, recognized it as a newer song by Raymond, about "Maggie Magee." (See Appendix also.)
Appendix to the Meeting on December 21, 1915
(Written 3-1/2 Months later)
(Written 3.5 Months later)
(Dictated by O. J. L., 12 April 1916.)
(Dictated by O. J. L., April 12, 1916.)
Last night the family were singing over some songs, and came across one which is obviously the one referred to in the above sitting of A. M. L. with Mrs. Leonard, held nearly four months ago, of which a portion ran thus (just before the reference to Orange Girl):—
Last night, the family was singing some songs and stumbled upon one that clearly matches the one mentioned earlier in the A. M. L. meeting with Mrs. Leonard, which took place almost four months ago. A part of that meeting went like this (just before the mention of Orange Girl):—
"A. M. L.—What used he to sing?
A. M. L.—What did he used to sing?
Hello—Hullalo—sounds like Hullulu,—Hullulo. Something about 'Hottentot'; but he is going back a long way, he thinks."
Hello—Hullalo—sounds like Hullulu,—Hullulo. Something about 'Hottentot'; but he is going back a long way, he thinks.
References to other songs known to the family followed, but this reference to an unknown song was vaguely remembered by the family as a puzzle; [ 216] and it existed in A. M. L.'s mind as "a song about 'Honolulu,'"—this being apparently the residual impression produced by the 'Hullulu' in combination with 'Hottentot'; but no Honolulu song was known.
References to other songs familiar to the family followed, but this reference to an unknown song was vaguely recalled by the family as a riddle; [ 216] and it existed in A. M. L.'s mind as "a song about 'Honolulu,'"—this being apparently the lingering impression created by the 'Hullulu' alongside 'Hottentot'; however, no Honolulu song was recognized.
A forgotten and overlooked song has now (11 April 1916) turned up, which is marked in pencil "R. L. 3.3.4.," i.e. 3 March 1904, which corresponds to his "going back a long way"—to a time, in fact, when he was only fifteen. It is called, "My Southern Maid"; and although no word about 'Honolulu' occurs in the printed version, one of the verses has been altered in Raymond's writing in pencil; and that alteration is the following absurd introduction to a noisy chorus:—
A forgotten and overlooked song has now (April 11, 1916) surfaced, marked in pencil "R. L. 3.3.4.," which means March 3, 1904, linking it to his "going back a long way"—to a time when he was just fifteen. It's titled "My Southern Maid," and even though the printed version doesn’t mention 'Honolulu,' one of the verses has been changed in Raymond's handwriting in pencil; and that change is the following ridiculous lead-in to a loud chorus:—
"Any little flower from a tulip to a rose,
"Any little flower, from a tulip to a rose,
If you'll be Mrs. John James Brown
If you’re going to be Mrs. John James Brown
Of Hon-o-lu-la-lu-la town."
Of Honolulu town.
Until these words were sung last night, nobody seems to have remembered the song "My Southern Maid," and there appears to be no reason for associating it with the word 'Honolulu' or any similar sound, so far as public knowledge was concerned, or apart from Raymond's alterations.
Until these words were sung last night, no one seemed to remember the song "My Southern Maid," and there doesn't seem to be any reason to link it with the word 'Honolulu' or any similar sound, at least in terms of public knowledge, or aside from Raymond's changes.
Alec calls attention to the fact that, in answer to his question about songs, no songs were mentioned which were not actually Raymond's songs; and that those which were mentioned were not those he was expecting. Furthermore, that if he had thought of these songs he would have thought of them by their ordinary titles, such as "My Orange Girl" and "My Southern Maid"; though the latter he had forgotten altogether.
Alec points out that, in response to his question about songs, none of the songs mentioned were actually anything other than Raymond's songs; and the ones that were brought up weren't the ones he was expecting. Additionally, if he had thought of these songs, he would have referred to them by their regular titles, like "My Orange Girl" and "My Southern Maid"; although he had completely forgotten about the latter.
(A sort of disconnected sequel to this song episode occurred some months later, as reported in Chapter XXIII.)
(A somewhat unrelated follow-up to this song episode happened a few months later, as mentioned in Chapter XXIII.)
CHAPTER 19
Private Events at Mariemont
It had been several times indicated that Raymond wanted to come into the family circle at home, and that Honor, whom he often refers to as H., would be able to help him. Attempted private sittings of this kind were referred to by Raymond through London mediums, and he gave instruction as to procedure, as already reported (pp. 160 and 190).
It was mentioned several times that Raymond wanted to join the family circle at home, and that Honor, whom he often calls H., could assist him. He referred to attempts at private sessions of this nature through London mediums and provided instructions on how to proceed, as already reported (pp. 160 and 190).
After a time some messages were received, and family communications without any outside medium have gradually become easy.
After a while, some messages came in, and family communication without any outside help has gradually become easier.
Records were at first carefully kept, but I do not report them, because clearly it is difficult to regard anything thus got as evidential. At the same time, the naturalness of the whole, and the ready way in which family jokes were entered into and each new-comer recognised and welcomed appropriately, were very striking. A few incidents, moreover, were really of an evidential character, and these must be reported in due course.
Records were initially kept meticulously, but I won’t share them because it’s hard to consider anything gathered this way as evidence. However, the naturalness of the entire situation and the way family jokes were easily embraced, with newcomers recognized and welcomed properly, were quite impressive. Additionally, a few incidents were genuinely evidential, and those will be reported in due time.
But occasionally the table got rather rampageous and had to be quieted down. Sometimes, indeed, both the table and things like flower-pots got broken. After these more violent occasions, Raymond volunteered the explanation, through mediums in London, that he couldn't always control it, and that there was a certain amount of skylarking, not on our side, which he tried to prevent (see pp. 182, 194 and 273); though in certain of the surprising mechanical demonstrations, and, so to speak, tricks, which certainly seemed beyond the normal power of anyone touching the table, he appeared to be decidedly interested, and was represented as desirous of repeating a few of the more remarkable ones for my edification.
But sometimes the table got really wild and needed to be calmed down. Occasionally, both the table and things like flower pots ended up broken. After these more intense moments, Raymond explained through mediums in London that he couldn’t always control it and that there was some playful activity not caused by us, which he tried to stop (see pp. 182, 194 and 273); however, in some of the surprising mechanical demonstrations and, so to speak, tricks that clearly seemed beyond the normal abilities of anyone at the table, he appeared genuinely interested and was said to want to repeat a few of the more remarkable ones for my understanding.
I do not, however, propose to report in this book concerning any purely physical phenomena. They require a more thorough treatment. Suffice it to say that the movements were not only intelligent, but were sometimes, though very seldom, such as apparently could not be accomplished by any normal application of muscular force, however unconsciously such force might be exerted by anyone—it might only be a single person—left in contact with the table.
I don't plan to discuss any purely physical phenomena in this book. Those need a more in-depth analysis. It's enough to say that the movements were not only intelligent but, on rare occasions, seemed to occur in ways that couldn't be achieved through normal muscle power, no matter how unconsciously that power was applied by anyone—possibly just one person—interacting with the table.
A family sitting with no medium present is quite different from one held with a professional or indeed any outside medium. Information is freely given about the doings of the family; and the general air is that of a family conversation; because, of course, in fact, no one but the family is present.
A family sitting together without a medium is very different from one that includes a professional or any outside medium. Information flows easily about what the family is doing, and the atmosphere feels like a regular family conversation because, in reality, only the family is there.
At any kind of sitting the conversation is rather one-sided, but whereas with a medium the sitter is reticent, and the communicator is left to do nearly all the talking, in a family group the sitters are sometimes voluble; while the ostensible control only occasionally takes the trouble to spell out a sentence, most of his activity consisting in affirmation and negation and rather effective dumb show.
At any gathering, the conversation tends to be pretty one-sided, but while a medium tends to have the sitter hold back, in a family group the sitters can be quite talkative. The supposed control only sometimes bothers to spell out a full sentence; most of their actions involve agreeing, disagreeing, and some pretty effective gestures.
I am reluctant to print a specimen of these domestic chats, though it seems necessary to give some account of them.
I hesitate to share an example of these everyday conversations, even though it feels important to provide some description of them.
On Christmas Day, 1915, the family had a long table sitting. It was a friendly and jovial meeting, with plenty of old songs interspersed, which he seemed thoroughly to enjoy and, as it were, 'conduct'; but for publication I think it will be better to select something shorter, and I find a description written by one to whom such things were quite new except by report—a lady who had been governess in the family for many years, when even the elder children were small, and long before Raymond was born. This lady, Miss F. A. Wood, commonly called 'Woodie' from old times, happened to be staying on a visit to Mariemont in March 1916, and was present at two or three of the family sittings. She was much interested in her first experience, and wrote an account immediately afterwards, which, as realistically giving the impression of a witness, I have obtained her permission to copy here.
On Christmas Day, 1915, the family had a long table sitting. It was a friendly and cheerful gathering, filled with lots of old songs that he seemed to really enjoy and, in a way, 'conduct'; but for publication, I think it would be better to choose something shorter. I found a description written by someone for whom such things were quite new, except through hearsay—a lady who had been a governess for the family for many years, when even the older children were young and long before Raymond was born. This lady, Miss F. A. Wood, often called 'Woodie' from back in the day, happened to be visiting Mariemont in March 1916 and attended two or three of the family gatherings. She was very interested in her first experience and wrote an account right afterwards, which, as it realistically captures the impression of a witness, I have obtained her permission to copy here.
At this date the room was usually considerably darkened [ 219] for a sitting; but even partial darkness was unnecessary, and was soon afterwards dispensed with, especially as it interfered with easy reading of music at the piano.
At this time, the room was usually quite dark for a sitting; but even partial darkness was unnecessary and was soon removed, especially since it made reading music at the piano difficult. [ 219]
Table Sitting in the Drawing-room at Mariemont,
Thursday, 2 March 1916, about 6 p.m.
Sitters—Lady Lodge, Norah, and Woodie; later, Honor
Sitters—Lady Lodge, Norah, and Woodie; later, Honor
Report by Miss F. A. Wood
Report by Miss F. A. Wood
As it was the first time that I had ever been at a sitting of any kind, I shall put down the details as fully as I can remember them.
As it was the first time I had ever been at any kind of meeting, I'll write down the details as fully as I can remember them.
The only light in the room was from the gas-fire, a large one, so that we could see each other and things in the room fairly distinctly; the table used at this time was a rather small octagonal one, though weighty for its size, with strong centre stem, supported on three short legs, top like a chess-board. Lady Lodge sat with her back to window looking on to drive, Norah with back to windows looking on to tennis-lawn, and I, Woodie, had my back to the sofa.
The only light in the room came from the large gas fire, allowing us to see each other and the things around us quite clearly. The table we were using was a small octagonal one, though heavy for its size, with a sturdy center column supported by three short legs, and the top looked like a chessboard. Lady Lodge sat with her back to the window facing the driveway, Norah had her back to the windows looking out at the tennis lawn, and I, Woodie, had my back to the sofa.
As we were about to sit down, Lady Lodge said: "We always say a little prayer first."
As we were about to sit down, Lady Lodge said, "We always say a little prayer first."
I had hoped that she intended to pray aloud for us all, but she did it silently, so I did the same, having been upstairs before and done this also.
I had hoped she would pray openly for all of us, but she did it quietly, so I did the same, having been upstairs before and done this too.
For some time nothing whatever happened. I only felt that the table was keeping my hands extremely cold.
For a while, nothing happened at all. I just felt that the table was making my hands really cold.
After about half an hour, Lady Lodge said: "I don't think that anyone is coming to-night; we will wait just a little longer, and then go."
After about half an hour, Lady Lodge said, "I don't think anyone is coming tonight; let's wait a little longer and then leave."
Lady Lodge.—Is anyone here to-night to speak to us? Do come if you can, because we want to show Woodie what a sitting is like. Raymond, dear, do you think you could come to us?
Lady Lodge.—Is anyone here tonight that wants to talk to us? Please join us if you can, because we want to show Woodie what a session is like. Raymond, darling, do you think you could come to us?
(No answer.)
(No answer.)
During the half-hour before Lady Lodge asked any questions I had felt every now and then a curious tingling in my hands and fingers, and then a much stronger drawing sort of feeling through my hands and arms, which caused the table to have a strange intermittent trembling sort of feeling, though it was not a movement of the whole table. Another 'feeling' was as if a 'bubble' of the table came up, and tapped gently on the palm of my left hand. At first I only felt it once; after a short interval three times; then a little later about twelve times. And once (I shall not be able to explain this) I felt rather than heard a faint tap in the centre of the table (away from people's hands).
During the half-hour before Lady Lodge asked any questions, I occasionally felt a strange tingling in my hands and fingers, followed by a much stronger pulling sensation in my hands and arms, which made the table tremble in a weird, intermittent way, though it wasn't the whole table moving. Another sensation felt like a 'bubble' from the table rising up and lightly tapping my left hand's palm. At first, I only felt it once; after a short break, it happened three times; then a little later, about twelve times. And once (I can't really explain this), I felt rather than heard a faint tap in the center of the table (away from everyone’s hands).
Nearly every time I felt these queer movements Lady Lodge asked, "Did you move, Woodie?" I had certainly not done so consciously, and said so, and while I was feeling that 'drawing' feeling through hands and arms, I said nothing myself, till Lady Lodge and Norah both said, "What is the table doing? It has never done like this before." Then I told of my strange feelings in hands and arms, etc. Lady Lodge said it must be due to nerves, or muscles, or something of the sort. These strange feelings did not last long at a time, and generally, but not always, they came after Lady Lodge had asked questions (to some one on the other side).
Nearly every time I felt those unusual movements, Lady Lodge would ask, "Did you move, Woodie?" I definitely hadn’t done so intentionally and said as much. While I was experiencing that 'drawing' sensation through my hands and arms, I kept quiet until both Lady Lodge and Norah said, "What is the table doing? It’s never done this before." Then I shared my weird feelings in my hands and arms, etc. Lady Lodge suggested it must be due to nerves or muscles, or something like that. These strange sensations didn’t last long and usually, though not always, they happened after Lady Lodge had asked questions to someone on the other side.
After a bit, when the 'feelings' had gone from me at least, Lady Lodge suggested Norah's going for Honor, who came, but said on first sitting down that the table felt dead, and she did not think that anyone was there.
After a while, when I had at least lost my 'feelings,' Lady Lodge suggested that Norah call on Honor. She came over but immediately said that the table felt lifeless and she didn’t think anyone was present.
Lady L.—Is anyone coming? We should be so pleased if anyone could; we have been sitting here some time very patiently.
Lady L.—Is anyone coming? We'd be really happy if someone could show up; we've been waiting here for a while, being very patient.
Nothing happened for a bit, and Lady Lodge said, "I don't think it is any good."
Nothing happened for a while, and Lady Lodge said, "I don't think this is going to work."
But I said, "Oh, do wait a little longer, that tingling feeling is coming back again."
But I said, "Oh, please wait a bit longer, that tingling feeling is coming back again."
And Honor said, "Yes, I think there is something."
And Honor said, "Yeah, I think there’s something."
And then the table began to move, and Lady Lodge asked:—
And then the table started to move, and Lady Lodge asked:—
Lady L.—Raymond, darling, is that you?
Lady L.—Raymond, sweetheart, is that you?
(The table rocked three times.)
(The table shook three times.)
Lady L.—That is good of you, because Woodie did so want you to come.
Lady L.—That's really nice of you, because Woodie really wanted you to come.
(The table rocked to and fro with a pleased motion, most difficult to express on paper.)
(The table swayed back and forth with a happy movement, most challenging to describe in writing.)
Woodie.—Do you think that I have any power?
Woodie.—Do you think I have any power?
No.
No.
[Personally, I do not feel so sure of this. After the sitting and during it, I felt there might be a possibility.—Woodie.]
Honestly, I’m not very confident about this. During and after the session, I felt like there was a possibility. — Woodie.
Lady L.—Lorna has gone to nurse the soldiers, night duty. They are typhoid patients, and I do not like it. Do you think it will do her any harm?
Lady L.—Lorna has gone to care for the soldiers on night duty. They have typhoid, and I’m not entirely okay with it. Do you think it could harm her in any way?
No.
No.
Lady L.—Do you like her doing this?
Lady L.—Do you like her doing this?
Yes.
Yes.
Lady L.—You are rocking like a rocking-horse. Do you remember the rocking-horse at Newcastle?
Lady L.—You’re swaying like a rocking horse. Do you remember the rocking horse in Newcastle?
Yes.
Yes.
Lady L.—Can you give its name? (They went through the alphabet, and it spelt out:—)
Lady L.—Can you tell me its name? (They went through the alphabet, and it spelled out:—)
Prince.
Prince.
[It used to be called Archer Prince.]
[It was once called Archer Prince.]
(Soon after this the table began to show signs of restlessness, and Honor said: "I expect he wants to send a message." So Lady Lodge said:—)
(Soon after this, the table started to show signs of restlessness, and Honor said: "I think he wants to send a message." So Lady Lodge said:—)
Lady L.—Do you want to send a message?
Lady L.—Do you want to send a message?
Yes.
Yes.
Honor.—Well, we're all ready; start away.
Respect.—Alright, we’re all set; go ahead.
YOURLOVETOMYRTYPEKILL.
Your love to my type kill.
Honor.—Raymond, that is wrong, isn't it? Was "Your love to my" right?
Respect.—Raymond, that's not right, is it? Was "Your love to my" correct?
Yes.
Yes.
Honor.—Very well, we will start from there.
Respect.—Alright, we’ll begin from that point.
(The message then ran:—
(The message then ran:)
YOUR LOVE TO MY LITTLE SISTER.
YOUR LOVE FOR MY LITTLE SISTER.
Before the whole of 'sister' was made out, he showed great delight; and when the message was repeated to him in full to see if it was right, he was so pleased, and showed it so vigorously, that he, and we, all laughed together.
Before the full meaning of 'sister' was understood, he showed great joy; and when the message was repeated to him completely to check if it was correct, he was so happy and expressed it so energetically that he, along with us, all laughed together.
I could never have believed how real the feeling would be of his presence amongst us.)
I could never have imagined how real it would feel to have him here with us.
Lady L.—Do you mean Lily?
Lady L.—Do you mean Lily?
Yes.
Yes.
Lady L.—Is she here?
Lady L.—Is she around?
Yes.
Yes.
Lady L.—Are you here in the room?
Lady L.—Are you in the room?
Yes.
Yes.
Lady L.—Can Lily see us?
Lady L.—Can Lily see us?
No.
No.
Lady L.—Lily, darling, your mother does love you so dearly. I have wanted to send you my love. I shall come to see you some time, and then we shall be so happy, my dear, dear little girl. Thank you very much for coming to help Raymond, and coming to the table sometimes, till he can come himself. My love to you, darling, and to Brother Bill, too.
Lady L.—Lily, sweetheart, your mom loves you very much. I've been wanting to send you my love. I'll come to see you soon, and then we'll be so happy, my sweet little girl. Thank you for helping Raymond and for coming to the table sometimes until he can join us. Sending my love to you, darling, and to Brother Bill, too.
(Raymond seemed very pleased when Brother Bill was mentioned.)
(Raymond looked really happy when Brother Bill was brought up.)
(The table now seemed to wish to get into Lady Lodge's lap, and made most caressing movements to and fro, and seemed as if it could not get close enough to her.
(The table now appeared to want to get into Lady Lodge's lap, making all sorts of affectionate movements back and forth, seeming like it couldn't get close enough to her.)
Soon we realised that he was wanting to go, so we asked him if this was so, and he said:—)
Soon we realized that he wanted to leave, so we asked him if that was true, and he said:—)
Yes.
Yes.
(So we said 'good night' to him, and after giving two rather slight movements, which I gather is what he generally does just as he is going, we said 'good night' once more, and came away.)
(So we said 'good night' to him, and after he made a couple of quick movements, which I understand is what he usually does right before leaving, we said 'good night' again and walked away.)
(Signed) Woodie
(Signed) Woodie
One other family sitting, a still shorter one, may be quoted as a specimen also; though out of place. A question asked was suggested by something reported on page 230. It appears that Miss Wood was still here, but that on this occasion she was not one of those that touched the table.
One more family sitting, an even shorter one, can also be mentioned as an example, even though it feels a bit out of context. A question that came up was inspired by something noted on page 230. It turns out that Miss Wood was still present, but this time she wasn’t one of those who touched the table.
At this date the table generally used happened to be
a chess-table with centre pillar and three claw feet. After
this table and another one had got broken during the
more exuberant period of these domestic sittings, before
the power had got under control, a stronger and heavier
round table with four legs was obtained, and employed
only for this purpose.
At this time, the table commonly used was a chess table with a center pillar and three claw feet. After this table and another one broke during the more lively phase of these family gatherings, before everyone managed to rein in their energy, a sturdier and heavier round table with four legs was acquired and used solely for this purpose.
Table Sitting in the Drawing-Room at Mariemont,
9 p.m., Monday, 17 April 1916
Report by M. F. A. L.
Music going on in the drawing-room at Mariemont.
Music playing in the living room at Mariemont.
The girls (four of them) and Alec singing at the piano. Woodie and Honor and I sitting at the other end of the room. Lionel in the large chair.
The girls (four of them) and Alec singing at the piano. Woodie, Honor, and I sitting at the other end of the room. Lionel in the big chair.
The Shakespeare Society was meeting in the house, and at that time having coffee in the dining-room, so O. J. L. was not with us.
The Shakespeare Society was meeting at the house, and at that time they were having coffee in the dining room, so O. J. L. wasn’t with us.
Woodie thought Raymond was in the room and would like to hear the singing, but Honor thought it too late to begin with the table, as we should shortly be going into the dining-room.
Woodie thought Raymond was in the room and would want to hear the singing, but Honor thought it was too late to start with the table since we would soon be heading into the dining room.
However, I got the table ready near the piano, and Honor came to it, and the instant she placed her hands on it, it began to rock. I put my hands on too.
However, I set the table up next to the piano, and Honor approached it. The moment she put her hands on it, it started to rock. I put my hands on it as well.
We asked if it was Raymond, and if he had been waiting, and he said:—
We asked if it was Raymond and if he had been waiting, and he said:—
Yes.
Yes.
He seemed to wish to listen to the music, and kept time with it gently. And after a song was over that he liked, he very distinctly and decidedly applauded.
He looked like he wanted to listen to the music and gently kept time with it. And after a song he enjoyed finished, he clapped very clearly and firmly.
Lionel came (I think at Raymond's request) and sat at the table with us. It was determined to edge itself close to the piano, though we said we must pull it back, and did so. But it would go there, and thumped Barbie, who was playing the piano, in time to the music. Alec took one of the black satin cushions and held it against her as a buffer. The table continued to bang, and made a little hole in the cushion.
Lionel came (I think at Raymond's request) and sat at the table with us. It was decided to nudge itself closer to the piano, even though we said we needed to pull it back, and we did. But it kept trying to move there and thumped Barbie, who was playing the piano, in time with the music. Alec grabbed one of the black satin cushions and used it as a buffer against her. The table continued to bump, and made a little hole in the cushion.
It then edged itself along the floor, where for a minute or two it could make a sound on the boards beyond the carpet. Then it seemed to be feeling about with one foot (it has three).
It then inched along the floor, where for a minute or two it could make a sound on the boards beyond the carpet. Then it seemed to be exploring with one foot (it has three).
It found a corner of the skirting board, where it could lodge one foot about 6 inches from the ground. It then raised the other three level with it, in the air; and this it did many times, seeming delighted with its new trick.
It found a spot on the baseboard where it could place one foot about 6 inches off the ground. Then, it raised the other three to match it, in the air; and it did this many times, appearing delighted with its new trick.
It then laid itself down on the ground, and we asked if we should help it and lift it up, but it banged a
It then laid down on the ground, and we asked if we should help it up, but it banged a
No
No
on the floor, and raised itself a little several times without having the strength to get up. It lifted itself quite a foot from the ground, and was again asked if we might not lift it, but it again banged once for
on the floor, and pushed itself up a little several times without having the strength to get up. It lifted itself about a foot off the ground, and was again asked if we could help lift it, but it banged once for
No.
Nope.
But Lionel then said:—
But Lionel then said:—
LIONEL.—Well, Pat, my hand is in a most uncomfortable position; won't you let me put the table up?
LIONEL.—Well, Pat, my hand is in a really awkward position; can I go ahead and lift the table?
It at once banged three times for
It immediately knocked three times for
Yes.
Yes.
So we raised it.
So we increased it.
I then said:—
I then said:—
M. F. A. L.—Raymond, I want to ask you a question as a test: What is the name of the sphere on which you are living?
M.F.A.L.—Raymond, I want to ask you a question as a test: What is the name of the planet you live on?
[I did this, because others beside Raymond have said, through Mrs. Leonard, that they were living on the third sphere, and that it was called 'Summerland,' so I thought it might be [ 224] an idea of the medium's.[26] I don't much like these 'sphere' messages, and don't know whether they mean anything; but I assume that 'sphere' may mean condition, or state of development.]
[I did this because others besides Raymond have said, through Mrs. Leonard, that they were on the third sphere, which is called 'Summerland.' I thought this might be an idea from the medium.[ 224]___A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I’m not a fan of these 'sphere' messages and I’m not sure if they really mean anything, but I suppose 'sphere' could refer to a condition or a stage of development.]
We took the alphabet, and the answer came at once:—
We took the alphabet, and the answer came immediately:—
SUMMERRLODGE.
We asked, after the second R, if there was not some mistake; and again when O came, instead of the A we had expected for 'Summerland.'
We asked, after the second R, if there was a mistake; and again when O came, instead of the A we had expected for 'Summerland.'
But he said No.
But he said no.
So we went on, though I thought it was hopelessly wrong, and ceased to follow. I felt sure it was mere muddle.
So we kept going, even though I thought it was completely off, and stopped paying attention. I was sure it was just confusion.
So my surprise was the greater when the note-taker read out, 'Summer R. Lodge,' and I found he had signed his name to it, to show, I suppose, that it was his own statement, and not Feda's.
So I was even more surprised when the note-taker read out, 'Summer R. Lodge,' and I realized he had signed his name to it, I guess to show that it was his own statement and not Feda's.
[Lorna reports that the impression made upon them was that Raymond knew they had been expecting one ending, and that he was amused at having succeeded in giving them another. They enjoyed the joke together, and the table shook as if laughing.]
Lorna says they thought Raymond knew they were expecting one ending, and he found it amusing to surprise them with a different one. They all shared the joke, and the table shook like it was laughing.
We talked to him a little after this, and Alec and Noël put their hands on the table, and we said good night.
We chatted with him a bit after that, and Alec and Noël rested their hands on the table, and we said goodnight.
It is only necessary to add that the mechanical movements here described are not among those which, on page 218, I referred to as physically unable to be done by muscular effort on the part of anyone whose hands are only on the table top. I am not in this book describing any cases of that sort. Whatever was the cause of the above mechanical trick movements, which were repeated on a subsequent occasion for my observation, the circumstances were not strictly evidential. I ought to say, however, that most certainly I am sure that no conscious effort was employed by anyone present.
It’s important to note that the mechanical movements described here are not among those I mentioned on page 218 as being physically impossible for anyone to perform just by using their hands on the table. I'm not discussing any cases like that in this book. Whatever caused the mechanical trick movements that I observed again later, the circumstances weren’t really clear evidence. However, I should point out that I’m very sure that no conscious effort was made by anyone present.
WARNING
It may be well to give a word of warning to those who find that they possess any unusual power in the psychic direction, and to counsel regulated moderation in its use. Every power can be abused, and even the simple faculty of automatic writing can with the best intentions be misapplied. Self-control is more important than any other form of control, and whoever possesses the power of receiving communications in any form should see to it that he remains master of the situation. To give up your own judgement and depend solely on adventitious aid is a grave blunder, and may in the long run have disastrous consequences. Moderation and common sense are required in those who try to utilise powers which neither they nor any fully understand, and a dominating occupation in mundane affairs is a wholesome safeguard.
It’s important to warn those who find they have any unusual psychic abilities and to advise them to use those abilities with moderation. Any power can be misused, and even the simple skill of automatic writing can be misapplied, even with the best intentions. Self-control is more crucial than any other form of control, and anyone who has the ability to receive messages in any form should ensure they stay in charge of the situation. Relying entirely on outside help and abandoning your own judgment is a serious mistake and could lead to bad outcomes in the long run. Moderation and common sense are essential for those trying to use powers that neither they nor anyone else fully understands, and being actively engaged in everyday matters is a healthy safeguard.
Footnotes
Footnotes
[26] The statement will be found on page 230, in the record of a sitting preceding this in date.
CHAPTER 20
A FEW MORE RECORDS, WITH SOME
UNVERIFIABLE CONTENT
AFTER Christmas I had proposed to drop the historical order and make selections as convenient, but I find that sequence must to some extent be maintained, because of the inter-locking of sittings with different mediums and development generally. I shall, however, only preserve historical order so far as it turns out useful or relevant, and will content myself with reporting that on 3 January 1916 Raymond's eldest sister, Violet (the one married to the 'Rowland' that he mentioned through Feda), had a good sitting with him, and was not only recognised easily, but knowledge was shown of much that she had been doing, and of what she was immediately planning to do. Reference was also made by Raymond to what he called his special room in her house (p. 45); and, later, he said that that room was bare of furniture, which it was.
AFTER Christmas, I suggested we skip the historical order and select sessions as needed, but I've realized that we need to keep some sequence because of how the different mediums and overall development connect. However, I'll only stick to the historical order as long as it proves useful or relevant. I'll also note that on January 3, 1916, Raymond's oldest sister, Violet (the one married to the 'Rowland' he mentioned through Feda), had a successful session with him. Not only was she easily recognized, but Raymond also showed knowledge of much that she had been up to and what she was planning to do next. He also referred to what he called his special room in her house (p. 45); later, he mentioned that the room was empty of furniture, which it was.
And at some of the sittings now, deceased friends, not relatives, were brought by Raymond, and gave notable evidence both to us and to other people; especially to parents in some cases, to widows in others; some of which may perhaps be partially reported hereafter.
And at some of the sessions now, friends who have passed away, not family, were brought by Raymond and provided significant evidence to us and others; especially to parents in some cases and to widows in others; some of which might be partially reported later.
This may as well be reported almost in full, in spite
of unimportant and introductory portions, since it seems
fairer to give the context, especially of unverifiable matter.
But I feel bound to say that there is divergence of opinion
as to whether this particular record ought to be published
or not. I can only say that I recognise the responsibility,
and hope that I am right in partially accepting it.
This can almost be shared in its entirety, despite some unimportant and introductory parts, because it feels more fair to provide the context, especially for unverifiable information. However, I must mention that there's disagreement about whether this specific record should be published or not. I can only acknowledge the responsibility and hope that I'm right in partially taking it on.
Non-Evidential Sitting of M. F. A. L. with Mrs. Leonard
at her House on Friday, 4 February 1916,
from 8.30 p.m. to 11.10 p.m.
(M. F. A. L. alone.)
(M. F. A. L. alone.)
Feda.—Oh, it's Miss Olive!
Feda.—Oh, it's Olive!
M. F. A. L.—So glad to meet you, Feda!
M.F.A.L.—So happy to see you, Feda!
Feda love you and Soliver best of all. SLionel and SAlec too she love very much.
Feda loves you and Soliver the most. She also loves SLionel and SAlec a lot.
Yaymond is here. He has been all over the place with Paulie, to all sorts of places to the mediums, to try and get poor boys into touch with their mothers. Some are very jealous of those who succeed. They try to get to their mothers, and they can't—they are shut out. They make me feel as though I could cry to see them. We explain that their mothers and fathers don't know about communicating. They say, why don't they all go to mediums?
Yaymond is here. He’s been all over with Paulie, visiting different mediums to help poor boys connect with their mothers. Some people are really jealous of those who succeed. They want to reach their mothers but can’t—they feel shut out. It makes me feel like crying to see them. We explain that their mothers and fathers aren’t aware of how to communicate. They ask, why don’t they all go to mediums?
Yaymond say, it makes me wonder too.
Yaymond says, it makes me wonder too.
He say, he was telling Feda, it was awful funny the things some of them did—it has a funny side, going to see the mediums. You see, Paul and he couldn't help having a joke; they are boys themselves, laughing over funny things.
He said he was telling Feda it was really funny the things some of them did—it has a humorous side, going to see the mediums. You see, Paul and he couldn't help but joke; they’re just boys, laughing at silly things.
He says he was listening to Paul, and he was describing the drawing-room at home. (A good description was now given of the drawing-room at Mariemont, which the medium had never seen.)
He says he was listening to Paul, and he was describing the living room at home. (A good description was now given of the living room at Mariemont, which the medium had never seen.)
Feda sees flowers; they're Feda's, not Gladys's.
Feda sees flowers; they belong to Feda, not Gladys.
[M. F. A. L. had brought flowers for Mrs. Leonard.]
[M. F. A. L. had brought flowers for Mrs. Leonard.]
M. F. A. L.—Don't you have flowers, then?
M.F.A.L.—So, you don't have any flowers?
Yes, lots of flowers. But Feda like to have them in Gladys's room. [Apparently this must be Mrs. Leonard's name.]
Yes, lots of flowers. But Feda likes to have them in Gladys's room. [Apparently this must be Mrs. Leonard's name.]
There's a lot in prayer. Prayer keeps out evil things, and keeps nice clean conditions. Raymond says, keeps out devils.
There's a lot to prayer. Prayer keeps out bad things and maintains a clean environment. Raymond says it keeps out demons.
Mother, I don't want to talk about material things, but to satisfy anxiety. I was very uneasy on Monday [ 228] night. I tried to come near, but there was a band round me. We were all there.
Mother, I don't want to talk about material things, but to ease my anxiety. I felt really uneasy on Monday night. I tried to get closer, but there was something holding me back. We were all there.
M. F. A. L.—The Zeppelins did come on Monday night, but they did not touch us. [We went to bed and didn't worry about them.]
M.F.A.L.—The Zeppelins showed up on Monday night, but they didn't reach us. [We went to bed and didn’t stress about them.]
He says, they worked in a circular way, east and south of you. Awful! He hoped it wouldn't upset you; he didn't want them to come too close. I know you're not nervous, but I fear for you. If he'd been on the earth plane, he'd have been flying home. He says New Street was the mark.
He says they worked in a circular pattern, east and south of you. That's terrible! He hoped it wouldn't bother you; he didn't want them getting too close. I know you're not anxious, but I worry about you. If he had been on the physical plane, he would have been flying home. He says New Street was the landmark.
Some one called 'M.' sent you a message through Mrs. F. (?), and wanted her dearest love given. She's had to be away rather from the earth plane for some time, but he actually has seen M. several times. Conditions of war have brought her back. She had progressed a good way. She wondered if you realised it was not her will to leave you so long, but progression. She belongs to a higher plane.
Someone called 'M.' sent you a message through Mrs. F. (?), and wanted her deepest love conveyed. She's been away from the earthly plane for quite a while, but he has actually seen M. several times. The circumstances of war have brought her back. She has made significant progress. She wondered if you understood that it wasn't her choice to be away from you for so long, but rather her progression. She belongs to a higher plane.
M. knew something about this before she passed on, though perhaps it makes it easier to be always communicating.
M. knew something about this before she passed away, though maybe it makes it easier to keep communicating.
[Some friends will know for whom this is intended—a great friend of our and many other children. She had had one sitting with Mrs. Piper at Mariemont, not a good one.—O. J. L.]
[Some friends will know who this is for—a close friend of ours and many other kids. She had one session with Mrs. Piper at Mariemont, but it wasn’t a good experience.—O. J. L.]
Her life on the earth plane made it easier for her to go on quickly after she passed out.
Her life on Earth made it easier for her to move on quickly after she passed away.
(Feda, sotto voce.—What you say?)
(Feda, in a low voice.—What did you say?)
M. says, it will be a test, that she was with his father at a medium's, where she saw a control named Alice Anne, a little girl control; she didn't speak to Soliver, but was with him at the medium's. "The old Scotch girl" what Paulie calls her; old Scotch lady—same thing.
M. says it will be a test that she was with his father at a medium’s place, where she saw a spirit named Alice Anne, a little girl spirit; she didn’t talk to Soliver but was with him at the medium's. "The old Scotch girl," as Paulie calls her; old Scotch lady – same thing.
[This is correct about a sitting with Miss McCreadie, when this 'M.' had unmistakably sent messages through Miss McC.'s usual control.—O. J. L.]
[This clearly refers to a session with Miss McCreadie, when this 'M.' had evidently sent messages through Miss McC.'s usual channel.—O. J. L.]
(Added later.)
(Added later.)
Some friends will be interested in this lady,—a really beautiful character, with initials M. N. W.,—so I record something that came through from Feda on a much later occasion—in July 1916:—
Some friends might find this lady interesting—a truly beautiful person with the initials M. N. W.—so I'm sharing something that came through from Feda on a much later occasion—in July 1916:—
Raymond's got rather a young lady with him. Not the sister who passed away a little baby. But she's young—she looks twenty-four or twenty-five. She's rather slender, rather pretty. Brown hair, oval face. Not awful handsome, but got a nice expression. She's very nice, and comes from a high sphere. She's able to come close to-night, but can't always come. Name begins with an M. And she says, "Don't think that because she didn't come, she didn't want to come. She had to keep away for so long. It was necessary for her to stay away from the earth for a while, because she had work in high spheres for three years, and it's difficult for her to come through.
Raymond is with a young woman. Not the sister who died as a baby. She's young—looks to be around twenty-four or twenty-five. She's quite slender and pretty. Brown hair, oval face. Not exceptionally beautiful, but has a lovely expression. She's really nice and comes from a wealthy family. She can come close tonight, but she can't do it all the time. Her name starts with an M. She says, "Don’t think that just because she didn’t come, she didn’t want to. She had to stay away for a while. It was necessary for her to be away from the earthly realm for three years because she had work to do in higher spheres, and it’s tough for her to come through."
Good, good—something about the lady, lady—two people, she says. Lady and good man. Feda ought to remember it—a lady and good man.
Good, good—there's something about the lady, lady—two people, she says. Lady and good man. Feda should remember it—a lady and a good man.
Between them Soliver and her, Soliver and Miss Olive, and her. Lady and good man and M. She must have been very good on the earth plane, she wasn't ordinary at all. Quite unusual and very very good. You can tell that by what she looks like now.
Between Soliver and her, Soliver and Miss Olive, and her. Lady and good man and M. She must have been really good on this earth; she was anything but ordinary. Quite unique and really, really good. You can tell that just by how she looks now.
She brings a lot of flowers—pansies, not quite pansies, flower like a pansy, and not quite a pansy. Heartsease, that's what it is. She brings lots of those to you. She brought a lot of them when Raymond wented over there. But not for very long, she didn't—they wasn't wanted very long.
She brings a lot of flowers—pansies, not exactly pansies, flowers that look like a pansy but aren't quite. Heartsease, that’s what they’re called. She brings you a bunch of those. She brought many when Raymond went over there. But not for very long, she didn’t—they weren’t needed for very long.
M. F. A. L. Record of February 4—continued
M. F. A. L. Record of February 4—continued
He said about some one, that she'd gone right on to a very high sphere indeed, as near celestial as could possibly be. His sister, he says—can't get her name. [He means Lily, presumably.] He says William had gone on too, a good way, but not too far to come to him. [His brother.]
He mentioned someone had moved on to a really high level, almost heavenly. His sister, he says—can't remember her name. [He probably means Lily.] He says William has also moved on quite a bit, but not too far to come back to him. [His brother.]
Those who are fond of you never go too far to come back to you—sometimes too far to communicate, never too far to meet you when you pass over.
Those who care about you never go too far to return to you—sometimes too far to reach out, but never too far to see you when you cross paths.
M. F. A. L.—That's so comforting, darling. I don't want to hold you back.
M.F.A.L.—That's really comforting, sweetheart. I don’t want to hinder you.
You gravitate here to the ones you're fond of. Those you're not fond of, if you meet them in the [ 230] street, you don't bother yourself to say 'how-do-you-do.'
You’re drawn to the people you like. Those you don’t care for, when you run into them in the [ 230] street, you don’t make an effort to say 'hello.'
M. F. A. L.—There are streets, then?
MFA—So, there are streets?
Yes. He was pleased to see streets and houses.
Yes. He was happy to see streets and houses.
At one time, I thought it might be created by one's own thoughts. You gravitate to a place you are fitted for. Mother, there's no judge and jury, you just gravitate, like to like.
At one point, I believed it could be made by your own thoughts. You end up where you belong. Mom, there’s no judge or jury, you just end up where you fit in, like attracts like.
I've seen some boys pass on who had nasty ideas and vices. They go to a place I'm very glad I didn't have to go to, but it's not hell exactly. More like a reformatory—it's a place where you're given a chance, and when you want to look for something better, you're given a chance to have it. They gravitate together, but get so bored. Learn to help yourself, and immediately you'll be helped. Very like your world; only no unfairness, no injustice—a common law operating for each and every one.
I've seen some guys move on who had bad ideas and habits. They go to a place I’m really glad I didn't have to go to, but it’s not exactly hell. More like a reform school—it’s a place where you get a chance, and when you're ready to look for something better, you have the opportunity to get it. They stick together, but they get so bored. Learn to help yourself, and right away you’ll be helped. It’s very similar to your world; just no unfairness, no injustice—a common law that applies to everyone.
M. F. A. L.—Are all of the same rank and grade?
M.F.A.L.—Are they all of the same rank and grade?
Rank doesn't count as a virtue. High rank comes by being virtuous. Those who have been virtuous have to pass through lower rank to understand things. All go on to the astral first, just for a little.
Rank isn't a sign of virtue. High rank is earned through being virtuous. Those who are virtuous have to experience lower ranks to gain understanding. Everyone goes to the astral first, just for a while.
He doesn't remember being on the astral himself. He thinks where he is now, he's about third. Summerland—Homeland, some call it. It is a very happy medium. The very highest can come to visit you. It is just sufficiently near the earth plane to be able to get to those on earth. He thinks you have the best of it there, so far as he can see.
He doesn't remember being on the astral himself. He thinks that where he is now, he's about third. Summerland—Homeland, as some call it. It's a very happy medium. The very highest can come to visit you. It's close enough to the earth plane for those on earth to reach it. He believes you have the best of it there, as far as he can tell.
Mother, I went to a gorgeous place the other day.
Mother, I went to a beautiful place the other day.
M. F. A. L.—Where was it?
M.F.A.L.—Where was that?
Goodness knows!
Goodness knows!
I was permitted, so that I might see what was going on in the Highest Sphere. Generally the High Spirits come to us.
I was allowed to see what was happening in the Highest Sphere
I wonder if I can tell you what it looked like!
I wonder if I can explain what it looked like!
[Until the case for survival is considered established, it is thought improper and unwise to relate an experience of a kind which may be imagined, in a book dealing for the most part with evidential matter. So I have omitted the description here, and the brief reported utterance which followed. I think it fair, however, to quote the record so far as it refers to the youth's own feelings, because otherwise the picture would be incomplete and one-sided, and he might appear occupied only with comparatively frivolous concerns.]
[Until the case for survival is considered established, it seems inappropriate and unwise to share an experience that could be imagined in a book focused mostly on evidence. So, I have left out the description here, along with the brief statement that followed. However, I think it's fair to quote the record regarding the young man's own feelings, because otherwise, the picture would be incomplete and one-sided, and he might seem focused only on relatively trivial matters.]
I felt exalted, purified, lifted up. I was kneeling. I couldn't stand up, I wanted to kneel.
I felt elated, cleansed, elevated. I was kneeling. I couldn't get up, I wanted to kneel.
Mother, I thrilled from head to foot. He didn't come near me, and I didn't feel I wanted to go near him. Didn't feel I ought. The Voice was like a bell. I can't tell you what he was dressed or robed in. All seemed a mixture of shining colours.
Mother, I was excited from head to toe. He didn't come close to me, and I didn't feel the urge to go close to him. I didn't think I should. The Voice was like a bell. I can't describe what he was wearing. Everything looked like a mix of shining colors.
No good; can you imagine what I felt like when he put those beautiful rays on to me? I don't [ 232] know what I've ever done that I should have been given that wonderful experience. I never thought of such a thing being possible, not at any rate for years, and years, and years. No one could tell what I felt, I can't explain it.
No way; can you imagine how I felt when he showered me with those beautiful rays? I don't know what I did to deserve such an amazing experience. I never thought something like that could happen, not for a long, long time. No one could understand what I felt; I can't even explain it.
Will they understand it?
Will they get it?
I know father and you will, but I want the others to try. I can't put it into words.
I know Dad will, and you will too, but I want the others to give it a shot. I can't really explain it.
I didn't walk, I had to be taken back to Summerland, I don't know what happened to me. If you could faint with delight! Weren't those beautiful words?
I didn't walk; I had to be taken back to Summerland. I don't know what happened to me. Could you faint from delight? Those words were beautiful, weren't they?
I've asked if Christ will go and be seen by everybody; but was told, "Not quite in the same sense as you saw Him." I was told Christ was always in spirit on earth—a sort of projection, something like those rays, something of him in every one.
I've asked if Christ will show up and be visible to everyone; but I was told, "Not exactly in the same way you saw Him." I was informed that Christ is always present in spirit on earth—a kind of projection, like those rays, something of Him in everyone.
People think he is a Spirit, walking about in a particular place. Christ is everywhere, not as a personality. There is a Christ, and He lives on the higher plane, and that is the one I was permitted to see.
People think he is a Spirit, wandering around in a specific place. Christ is everywhere, not as a personality. There is a Christ, and He exists on a higher plane, and that is the one I was allowed to see.
There was more given me in that beautiful message; I can't remember it all. He said the whole of it, nearly and word for word, of what I've given you. You see from that I'm given a mission to do, helping near the earth plane....
There was more shared with me in that beautiful message; I can't remember it all. He conveyed almost everything, nearly word for word, of what I've shared with you. You can see from that I have a mission to fulfill, helping here on the earthly plane....
Shall I tell you why I'm so glad that is my work, given me by the Highest Authority of all!
Shall I share why I'm so happy that this is my job, given to me by the highest authority of all!
First of all, I'm proud to do His work, no matter what it is; but the great thing is, I can be near you and father.
First of all, I'm proud to do His work, no matter what it is; but the great thing is, I can be close to you and dad.
M. F. A. L.—If we can only be worthy!
M.F.A.L.—If we can just be worthy!
You are both doing it, every bit you can.
You’re both doing it, every little bit you can.
M. F. A. L.—Well, I'm getting to love people more than I used to do.
M.F.A.L.—Well, I'm starting to love people more than I used to.
I have learnt over here, that every one is not for you. If not in affinity, let them go, and be with those you do like.
I’ve learned here that not everyone is meant for you. If you don’t connect, let them go and spend time with those you do like.
Mother, will they think I'm kind of puffing myself up or humbugging? It's so wonderful, will they be able to understand that it's just Raymond that's been through this? No Sunday school.
Mother, will they think I'm bragging or faking? It's so amazing, will they really get that it's just Raymond who's gone through all this? No Sunday school.
I treasured it up to give you to-night. I put it off because I didn't know if I could give it in the right words that would make them feel like I feel—or something like. Isn't it a comfort? You and father think it well over. I didn't ask for work to be near the earth plane! I thought that things would be made right. But think of it being given me, the work I should have prayed for!
I saved it to share with you tonight. I hesitated because I wasn’t sure I could express it in a way that conveys how I feel—or something like that. Isn’t it reassuring? You and Dad think about it carefully. I didn’t ask for work to be so close to the earthly realm! I thought everything would be sorted out. But just think about it being given to me, the work I should have been praying for!
M. F. A. L.—Then you're nearer?
M.F.A.L.—So you're closer now?
Much nearer! I was bound to be drawn (?). So beautiful to think, now I can honestly stay near the earth plane. Eventually, instead of going up by degrees, I shall take, as Feda has been promised, a jump. And when you and father come, you will be on one side, and father on the other. We shall be a while in Summerland, just to get used to conditions. He says very likely we shall be wanted to keep an eye on the others. He means brothers and sisters. I can't tell you how pleased I feel—'pleased' is a poor word!
Much closer! I was definitely going to be drawn in. It’s so beautiful to think that now I can truly stay close to the earth plane. Eventually, instead of gradually going up, I’ll take a leap, just like Feda has been promised. When you and Dad arrive, you’ll be on one side and Dad on the other. We’ll spend some time in Summerland, just to adjust to the new conditions. He says we’ll probably be needed to watch over the others—he means siblings. I can’t express how happy I feel—‘happy’ doesn’t even capture it!
M. F. A. L.—About what, my dear?
MFA—About what, my friend?
About being very near the earth plane.
About being very close to the earth plane.
I've pressed on, getting used to conditions here, and yet when I went into the Presence I was overawed.
I've kept going, getting used to things here, and yet when I entered the Presence, I was completely amazed.
How can people....
How can people...
It made me wish, in the few seconds I was able to think of anything, that I had led one of the purest lives imaginable. If there's any little tiny thing I've ever done, it would stand out like a mountain. I didn't have much time to think, but I did feel in that few seconds....
It made me wish, in the few seconds I could think of anything, that I had lived one of the purest lives possible. If there's any small thing I've ever done, it would stand out like a mountain. I didn't have much time to think, but I did feel in those few seconds...
I felt when I found myself back in Summerland that I was charged with something—some wonderful power. As if I could stop rivers, move mountains; and so wonderfully glad.
I felt when I found myself back in Summerland that I was charged with something—some amazing power. As if I could stop rivers, move mountains; and I was so incredibly happy.
He says, don't bother yourself about trying to like people you've got an antipathy for, it's waste of you. Keep love for those who want it, don't throw it away on those who don't; it's like giving things to over-fed people when hungry chaps are standing by.
He says, don't worry about trying to like people you don't get along with, it's a waste of your energy. Save your love for those who actually want it; don’t waste it on those who don’t appreciate it. It's like giving food to people who are already full while those who are hungry are waiting nearby.
Do you know that I can feel my ideas altering, somehow.
Do you know that I can sense my ideas changing, somehow?
I feel more naturally in tune with conditions very far removed from the earth plane; yet I like to go round with Paul, and have fun, and enjoy myself.
I feel more naturally connected to realms far away from the earthly plane; yet I enjoy hanging out with Paul, having fun, and enjoying life.
After that wonderful experience, I asked some one if it wasn't stupid to like to have fun and go with the others. But they said that if you've got a work to do on the earth plane, you're not to have all the black side, you are allowed to have the lighter side too, sunshine and shadow. One throws the other up, and makes you better able to judge the value of each. There are places on my sphere where they can listen to beautiful music when they choose. Everybody, even here, doesn't care for music, so it's not in my sphere compulsory.
After that amazing experience, I asked someone if it was silly to enjoy having fun and hanging out with others. But they told me that if you have work to do on the earthly plane, you shouldn't just focus on the negative side; you're allowed to enjoy the positive side too—both sunshine and shadows. One highlights the other and helps you appreciate the value of each. There are places in my realm where people can listen to beautiful music whenever they want. Even here, not everyone enjoys music, so it’s not required in my realm.
He likes music and singing, but wouldn't like to live in the middle of it always, he can go and hear it if he wants to, he is getting more fond of it than he was.
He likes music and singing, but he wouldn't want to live right in the middle of it all the time. He can go and listen if he wants to. He's starting to like it more than he used to.
Mr. Myers was very pleased. He says, you know it isn't always the parsons, not always the parsons, that go highest first. It isn't what you professed, it's what you've done. If you have not believed definitely in life after death, but have tried to do as much as you could, and led a decent life, and have left alone things you don't understand, that's all that's required of you. Considering how simple it is, you'd think everybody would have done it, but very few do.
Mr. Myers was really happy. He says, you know, it’s not always the clergy that rise to the top first. It’s not about what you claimed to believe, but what you actually did. If you haven’t been sure about life after death but have tried your best to live well, treated others decently, and stayed away from things you don’t understand, that’s all that matters. Considering how easy this is, you’d think everyone would accomplish it, but very few do.
On our side, we expect a few years will make a great difference in the conditions of people on the earth plane.
On our end, we believe that a few years will significantly change the living conditions of people on Earth.
In five years, ever so many more will be wanting to know about the life to come, and how they shall live on the earth plane so that they shall have a pretty good life when they pass on. They'll do it, if only as a wise precaution. But the more they know, the higher lines people will be going on.
In five years, many more people will want to learn about the afterlife and how to live on earth in a way that ensures they have a good life after they pass away. They’ll seek this knowledge, if only as a smart precaution. But the more they understand, the better paths people will choose.
M. F. A. L.—Did you see me reading the sitting to your father?
M.F.A.L.—Did you see me reading the meeting to your dad?
I'm going to stop father from feeling tired. Chap with red feather helping. Isn't it wonderful that I can be near you and father?
I'm going to keep Dad from feeling tired. A guy with a red feather is helping. Isn't it great that I can be close to you and Dad?
Some people ask me, are you pleased with where your body lies? I tell them I don't care a bit, I've no curiosity about my body now. It's like an old coat that I've done with, and hope some one will dispose of it. I don't want flowers on my body. Flowers in house, in Raymond's home.
Some people ask me if I'm happy with my body. I tell them I don't care at all; I'm not curious about my body anymore. It's like an old coat I've finished with, and I hope someone will get rid of it. I don't want flowers on my body. Flowers in the house, in Raymond's home.
M. F. A. L.—Can he tell the kind of flowers I put for him on his birthday?
MFA—Can he remember what kind of flowers I gave him for his birthday?
(Feda, sotto voce.—Try and tell Feda.)
(Feda, sotto voce.—Try to tell Feda.)
Doesn't seem able to get it.
Doesn't seem able to get it.
Don't think he knew. I can't get it through. Don't think I don't appreciate them. Sees some yellow and some white.
Don't assume he knew. I can't get it through my head. Don't think I don't value them. I see some yellow and some white.
He thinks it is some power he takes from the medium which makes for him a certain amount of physical sight. He can't see properly.
He believes it's some energy he draws from the medium that gives him a limited amount of physical vision. He can't see clearly.
M. F. A. L.—Can he tell me where I got the flowers from for his birthday?
MFA—Can he let me know where I got the flowers for his birthday?
(Feda, sotto voce.—Flowers doesn't grow now. Winter here!)
(Feda, whispering.—Flowers don't grow now. Winter is here!)
Yes, they do. Thinks they came from home.
Yes, they do. They believe they came from home.
(Feda, sotto voce.—Try and tell me any little thing.)
(Feda, softly.—Try to tell me something small.)
He means they came from his own garden.
He means they came from his own garden.
[Yes, they did. It was yellow jasmine, cut from the garden at Mariemont.—M. F. A. L.]
[Yes, they did. It was yellow jasmine, cut from the garden at Mariemont.—M. F. A. L.]
Paul's worried 'cos medium talk like book. Paul calls Feda 'Imp.' Raymond sometimes calls Feda 'Illustrious One.' I think Yaymond laughing! Always pretending Feda very little, and that they've [ 236] lost Feda, afraid of walking on her, but Feda pinches them sometimes, pretend they've trodden on Feda. But Feda just as tall as lots of Englishes.
Paul's worried because the medium talks like a book. Paul calls Feda 'Imp.' Raymond sometimes calls Feda 'Illustrious One.' I think Yaymond is laughing! Always pretending Feda is very small, and that they've lost Feda, scared of stepping on her, but Feda pinches them sometimes, pretending they've stepped on her. But Feda is just as tall as a lot of English people.
M. F. A. L.—Isn't Feda tired now?
M.F.A.L.—Isn't Feda tired now?
No.
No.
M. F. A. L.—I think Raymond must be.
M.F.A.L.—I believe Raymond has to be.
Well, power is going.
Power is going out.
M. F. A. L.—Anyhow, I must go. Some one perhaps of your brothers will come soon.
M.F.A.L.—Anyway, I have to leave. Someone from your family might be here soon.
I want no heralds or flourish of trumpets, let them come and see if I can get through to them.
I don’t want any announcements or fanfare, just let them come and see if I can reach them.
M. F. A. L.—(I here said something about myself, I forget; I think it was about being proud.)
M.F.A. degree—(I mentioned something about myself, but I can't remember; I think it was about being proud.)
If I see any signs, I'll take you in hand at once; it shall be nipped in the bud!
If I see any signs, I'll take control right away; it will be stopped before it starts!
Good night.
Good night.
M. F. A. L.—Do you sleep?
MFA L.—Are you sleeping?
Well, I doze.
Well, I nap.
M. F. A. L.—Do you have rain?
MFA—Is it raining?
Well, you can go to a place where rain is.
Well, you can go to a place where it rains.
M. F. A. L.—Do you know that your father is having all the sittings bound together in a book?
M.F.A.L.—Did you know your dad is having all the sessions collected into a book?
It will be very interesting to see how I change as I go on.
It will be really interesting to see how I change as I continue.
Good night.
Goodnight.
Note by O. J. L.
It must be remembered that all this, though reported in the first person, really comes through Feda; and though her style and grammar improve in the more serious portions, due allowance must be made for this fact.
It should be noted that all of this, while presented in the first person, actually comes from Feda; and although her style and grammar get better in the more serious parts, we need to keep this fact in mind.
CHAPTER 21
TWO QUITE EVIDENTIAL SESSIONS BY
O. J. L. ON MARCH 3, 1916
ON the morning of 3 March I had a sitting in Mrs. Kennedy's house with a Mrs. Clegg, a fairly elderly dame whose peculiarity is that she allows direct control by the communicator more readily than most mediums do.
ON the morning of March 3, I had a session at Mrs. Kennedy's house with Mrs. Clegg, an elderly woman whose unique trait is that she is more open to direct control by the communicator than most mediums.
Mrs. Kennedy has had Mrs. Clegg two or three times to her house, and Paul has learnt how to control her pretty easily, and is able to make very affectionate demonstrations and to talk through the organs of the medium, though in rather a jerky and broken way. She accordingly kindly arranged an anonymous sitting for me.
Mrs. Kennedy has invited Mrs. Clegg to her house two or three times, and Paul has figured out how to control her quite easily. He can make very affectionate gestures and communicate through the medium's voice, although it comes out somewhat shaky and fragmented. She kindly set up an anonymous session for me.
The sitting began with sudden clairvoyance, which was unexpected. It was a genuine though not a specially successful sitting, and it is worth partially reporting because of the reference to it which came afterwards through another medium, on the evening of the same day; making a simple but exceptionally clear and natural cross-correspondence:—
The session started with an unexpected burst of clairvoyance. It was a real experience, even if it wasn’t particularly successful, and it's worth mentioning partly because of the reference that came later through another medium on the same evening; creating a straightforward yet exceptionally clear and natural cross-correspondence:—
Anonymous Sitting of O. J. L. with Mrs. Clegg
At 11.15 a.m. on Friday, 3 March 1916, I arrived at Mrs. Kennedy's, went up and talked to her in the drawing-room till nearly 11.30, when Mrs. Clegg arrived.
At 11:15 a.m. on Friday, March 3, 1916, I arrived at Mrs. Kennedy's, went upstairs, and chatted with her in the living room until almost 11:30 when Mrs. Clegg showed up.
She came into the room while I was seeing to the fire, spoke to Mrs. Kennedy, and said, "Oh, is this the gentleman that I am to sit with?" She was then given a seat in front of the fire, being asked to get quiet after her omnibus journey. But she had hardly seated herself before she said:—
She walked into the room while I was tending to the fire, talked to Mrs. Kennedy, and said, "Oh, is this the guy I'm supposed to sit with?" She was then given a seat in front of the fire, and they told her to relax after her bus ride. But she had barely settled in before she said:—
"Oh, this room is so full of people; oh, some one so eager to come! I hear some one say 'Sir Oliver Lodge.' Do you know anyone of that name?"
"Oh, this room is so full of people; oh, someone is so eager to come! I hear someone say 'Sir Oliver Lodge.' Do you know anyone by that name?"
I said, yes, I know him.
I said, yeah, I know him.
Mrs. Kennedy got up to darken the room slightly, and Mrs. Clegg ejaculated:—
Mrs. Kennedy got up to dim the room a bit, and Mrs. Clegg exclaimed:—
"Who is Raymond, Raymond, Raymond? He is standing close to me."
"Who is Raymond, Raymond, Raymond? He’s standing right next to me."
She was evidently going off into a trance, so we moved her chair back farther from the fire, and without more preparation she went off.
She was clearly drifting into a trance, so we moved her chair further away from the fire, and without any more preparation, she just slipped away.
For some time, however, nothing further happened, except contortions, struggling to get speech, rubbings of the back as if in some pain or discomfort there, and a certain amount of gasping for breath.
For a while, though, nothing else happened, just awkward movements, efforts to talk, rubbing the back as if in pain or discomfort, and some gasping for breath.
Mrs. Kennedy came to try and help, and to give power. She knelt by her side and soothed her. I sat and waited.
Mrs. Kennedy came to help and empower her. She knelt beside her and comforted her. I sat and waited.
Presently the utterance was distinguished as, "Help me, where's the doctor?"
Currently, the utterance was recognized as, "Help me, where's the doctor?"
After a time, with K. K.'s help, the control seemed to get a little clearer, and the words, "So glad; father; love to mother; so glad," frequently repeated in an indistinct and muffled tone of voice, were heard, followed by, "Love to all of them."
After a while, with K. K.'s help, the control started to become a bit clearer, and the words, "So glad; father; love to mother; so glad," were often heard, repeated in a vague and muffled tone, followed by, "Love to all of them."
Nothing was put down at the time, for there seemed nothing to record—it seemed only preliminary effort; and in so far as anything was said, it consisted merely of simple messages of affection, and indications of joy at being able to come through, and of disappointment at not being able to do better. The medium, however, went through a good deal of pantomime, embracing me, stroking my arm, patting my knees, and sometimes stroking my head, sometimes also throwing her arms round me and giving the impression of being overjoyed, but unable to speak plainly.
Nothing was recorded at the time because there didn’t seem to be much to note—it felt like just a warm-up. When anything was communicated, it was only simple expressions of love and happiness for being together, mixed with disappointment at not being able to perform better. The medium, however, engaged in a lot of pantomime, hugging me, stroking my arm, patting my knees, sometimes even stroking my head, and occasionally wrapping her arms around me, giving the impression of being extremely happy but unable to express herself clearly.
Then other dumb show was begun. He seemed to be thinking of the things in his kit, or things which had been in his possession, and trying to enumerate them. He indicated that his revolver had not come back, and that in his diary the last page was not written up. I promised to complete it.
Then another silent act started. He appeared to be thinking about the items in his bag, or things he had owned, and trying to list them out. He pointed out that his revolver was missing and that the last page of his diary wasn't filled in. I promised to finish it.
After a time, utterance being so difficult, I gave the [ 239] medium a pad and pencil, and asked for writing. The writing was large and sprawly, single words: 'Captain' among them.
After a while, since speaking was so hard, I gave the [ 239] medium a notepad and a pencil and asked them to write. The writing was big and messy, with single words like 'Captain' among them.
While Raymond was speaking, and at intervals, the medium kept flopping over to one side or the other, hanging on the arm of her chair with head down, or else drooping forward, or with head thrown back—assuming various limp and wounded attitudes. Though every now and then she seemed to make an effort to hold herself up, and once or twice crossed knees and sat up firm, with arms more or less folded. But the greater part of the time she was flopping about.
While Raymond was talking, the medium kept leaning over to one side or the other, hanging onto the arm of her chair with her head down, or else drooping forward, or with her head thrown back—taking on different limp and injured positions. Every now and then, she seemed to try to hold herself up, and once or twice she crossed her knees and sat up straight, with her arms mostly folded. But most of the time, she was slumping around.
Presently Raymond said 'Good-bye,' and a Captain was supposed to control. She now spoke in a vigorous martial voice, as if ordering things, but saying nothing of any moment.
Presently, Raymond said, "Goodbye," and a Captain was expected to take charge. She spoke in a strong, commanding voice, as if she were giving orders, but she didn't say anything significant.
Then he too went away, and 'Hope' appeared, who, I am told, is Mrs. Clegg's normal control. Hope was able to talk reasonably well, and what she said I recorded for what it might be worth, but I omit the record, because though it contained references to people and things outside the knowledge of the medium or Mrs. Kennedy, and was therefore evidential as regards the genuineness and honesty of the medium, it was not otherwise worth reporting, unless much else of what was said on the same subjects by other mediums were reported too.
Then he also left, and 'Hope' showed up, who, I’ve been told, is Mrs. Clegg's regular control. Hope was able to speak fairly well, and I noted down what she said for whatever it was worth, but I’m leaving out the details because, although it included references to people and things that the medium or Mrs. Kennedy wouldn’t know about, proving the medium’s authenticity and honesty, it wasn’t really worth reporting unless a lot of what was said on the same topics by other mediums was included as well.
On the evening of this same 3rd of March—i.e. later in the same day that I had sat with Mrs. Clegg—I went alone to Mrs. Leonard's house and had rather a remarkable sitting, at which full knowledge of the Clegg performance was shown. It is worthy therefore of some careful attention.
On the evening of March 3rd—i.e. later the same day I had spent time with Mrs. Clegg—I went alone to Mrs. Leonard's house and had a pretty extraordinary session, during which there was complete awareness of what happened with the Clegg situation. It’s worth noting, so let’s pay attention to it.
After reading this part, the above very abbreviated
record of the Clegg sitting, held some hours before in
another house and other conditions, should again be read.
I wish to call attention to the following 3rd of March
sitting as one of the best; other members of the family
have probably had equally good ones, but my notes are
fuller. I hope it is fully understood that the mannerisms
are Feda's throughout.
After reading this section, the brief record of the Clegg session that took place hours earlier in another house and under different circumstances should be reviewed again. I want to highlight the March 3rd session as one of the best; other family members may have had equally good experiences, but my notes are more detailed. I hope it's clear that the mannerisms are entirely Feda's.
Sitting of O. J. L. with Mrs. Leonard at her House on
Friday, 3 March 1916, from 9.15 p.m. to 11.15 p.m.
(O. J. L. alone.)
(O. J. L. by himself.)
No preliminaries to report. Feda came through quickly, jerked in the chair, and seemed very pleased to find me.
No preliminaries to report. Feda came in quickly, jerked in the chair, and seemed really happy to see me.
(I asked if she had seen Raymond lately.)
(I asked if she had seen Raymond lately.)
Oh yes, Raymond's here.
Oh yeah, Raymond's here.
He came to help Feda with the lady and gentleman—on Monday, Feda thinks it was. Not quite sure when. But there was a lady and gentleman, and he came to help; and Feda said, "Go away, Raymond!" He said, "No, I've come to stay." He wouldn't go away, and he did help them through with their boy.
He came to help Feda with the woman and man—on Monday, Feda thinks. Not really sure when. But there was a woman and man, and he came to help; and Feda said, "Go away, Raymond!" He said, "No, I'm staying." He wouldn't leave, and he did help them out with their son.
[The reference here is to a sitting which a colleague of mine, Professor and Mrs. Sonnenschein, had had, unknown to me, with Mrs. Leonard. I learnt afterwards that the arrangements had been made by them in a carefully anonymous manner, the correspondence being conducted via a friend in Darlington; so that they were only known to Mrs. Leonard as "a lady and gentleman from Darlington." They had reported to me that their son Christopher had sent good and evidential messages, and that Raymond had turned up to help. It was quite appropriate for Raymond to take an interest in them and bring their son, since Christopher Sonnenschein had been an engineering fellow-student with Raymond at Birmingham. But there was no earthly reason, so far as Mrs. Leonard's knowledge was concerned, for him to put in an appearance; and indeed Feda at first told him to 'Go away,' until he explained that he had come to help. Hence the mention of Raymond, under the circumstances, was evidential.]
[This refers to a meeting that my colleague, Professor and Mrs. Sonnenschein, had with Mrs. Leonard without my knowledge. I later discovered that they had arranged everything discreetly, communicating via a friend in Darlington. To Mrs. Leonard, they were simply "a lady and gentleman from Darlington." They informed me that their son Christopher had sent clear and important messages, and that Raymond had shown up to help. It made sense for Raymond to be interested in them and bring their son since Christopher Sonnenschein was an engineering classmate of Raymond at Birmingham. However, from Mrs. Leonard's viewpoint, there was no reason for him to be there; in fact, Feda initially told him to 'Go away' until he explained that he had come to assist. So, the mention of Raymond, considering the circumstances, was significant.]
He's only been once to help beside this, and then he said, Don't tell the lady he was helping. [See below.]
He's only been once to help with this, and then he said, "Don't tell the lady he was helping." [See below.]
He's been with Paulie to-day, to Paulie's mother's. He says he's been at Paulie's house, but not with Mrs. Kathie, with another lady, a medie, Feda thinks. She was older than this one; a new one to him.[27] He wanted to speak through her, but he found it was difficult. Paul manages it all right, he says, but he finds it difficult. He says he started to get through, and then he didn't feel like himself. It's awful strange when one tries to control anybody. He wanted to very bad; he almost had them. (Sotto voce.—What you mean, Yaymond?) He says he thought he almost had them. He means he nearly got through. Oh, he says, he's not given it up; he's going to try again. What worries him is that he doesn't feel like himself. You know, father, I might be anybody. He says, Do you believe that in that way, practice makes perfect?
He's been with Paulie today, at Paulie's mom's house. He says he's been at Paulie's place, but not with Mrs. Kathie; he was with another woman, a medie, Feda thinks. She was older than the one he knows; she's new to him. He wanted to communicate through her, but he found it tough. Paul handles it fine, he says, but he finds it hard. He mentions that he started to connect, and then he didn't feel like himself. It’s really strange when you try to control someone. He wanted to very much; he almost had them. (Sotto voce.—What do you mean, Yaymond?) He says he thought he almost got through. He means he nearly connected. Oh, he says he's not giving up; he's going to try again. What concerns him is that he doesn’t feel like himself. You know, Dad, I could be anyone. He asks, do you really think that practice makes perfect?
O. J. L.—Yes, I'm sure it gets easier with practice.
O. J. L.—Yeah, I’m sure it gets easier with practice.
Oh, then he'll practise dozens of times, if he thinks it will be any good.
Oh, then he'll practice dozens of times if he thinks it will help.
O. J. L.—Did he like the old woman?
O.J. L..—Did he like the elderly woman?
Oh, yes; she's a very good sort.
Oh, yes; she's really a great person.
O. J. L.—Who was there sitting?
O. J. L.—Who was sitting there?
[This question itself indicates, what was the fact, that I had so far given no recognition to the statement that Raymond had been trying to control a medium on the morning of that same day. I wanted to take what came through, without any assistance.]
This question reveals that I hadn’t realized Raymond had been trying to control a medium earlier that day. I wanted to let whatever came through happen on its own, without any assistance.
He's not sure, because he didn't seem to get all properly into the conditions; it was like being in a kind of mist, in a fog. He felt he was getting hold of the lady, but he didn't quite know where he was. He'd got something ready to say, and he [ 242] started to try and say it, and it seemed as if he didn't know where he was.
He's not sure because he didn't fully grasp the situation; it was like being in a kind of haze or fog. He felt like he was connecting with the woman, but he wasn't exactly clear on his surroundings. He had something prepared to say, and he [ 242] started to express it, but it felt like he was lost in the moment.
[Feda reports sometimes in the third person, sometimes in the first.]
[Feda sometimes reports in the third person and other times in the first person.]
What does she flop about for, father? I don't want to do that; it bothered me rather, I didn't know if I was making her ill or something. Paulie said she thought it was the correct thing to do! But I wish she wouldn't. If she would only keep quiet, and let me come calmly, it would be much easier. Mrs. Kathie [Feda's name for Mrs. Katherine Kennedy] tries to help all she can, but it makes such a muddled condition. I might not be able to get a test through, even when I controlled better; I should have to get quite at home there, before I could give tests through her. He and Paulie used to joke about the old lady, but they don't now. Paul manages to control; he used to see Paulie doing it. I will try again, he says, and I will try again. It's worth trying a few times, then I can get my bearings, and I feel that what I wanted to say beforehand I will be able to get through.
What’s she acting all weird for, Dad? I don’t want to do that; it bothered me a bit, and I didn’t know if I was making her sick or something. Paulie said she thought it was the right thing to do! But I wish she wouldn’t. If she would just keep quiet and let me come in calmly, it would be so much easier. Mrs. Kathie [Feda's name for Mrs. Katherine Kennedy] tries to help as much as she can, but it just creates such a confusing situation. I might not be able to get a test done, even if I controlled myself better; I’d need to feel completely at home there before I could give tests through her. He and Paulie used to joke about the old lady, but they don’t anymore. Paul manages to hold it together; he used to see Paulie doing it. “I’ll try again,” he says, “and I will try again.” It’s worth trying a few times, then I can get my bearings, and I feel like what I wanted to say beforehand will finally come through.
Feda has an idea that what he had saved up to say was only just the usual messages. He had got them ready in his head; he had learnt it up—just a few words. Paulie told him he had better do that, and then (oh, you had better not tell Mrs. Kathie this, for it isn't polite!)—and then Paulie told him to spit it out. And that's what he tried to do—just to say the few words that he had learnt up. He just wanted to say how pleased he was to see you. He wanted also to speak about his mother, and to bring in, if he could, about having talked to you through Feda. Just simple things like that. He had to think of simple things, because Paulie had told him that it was no good trying to think of anything in-tri-cate.
Feda thought that what he had prepared to say was just the usual stuff. He had it all ready in his mind; he had memorized it—just a few words. Paulie told him he should do that, and then (oh, you really shouldn’t tell Mrs. Kathie this, because it’s not polite!)—and then Paulie told him to just say it. So that’s what he tried to do—just to say the few words he had memorized. He just wanted to express how happy he was to see you. He also wanted to mention his mother and to bring up, if possible, that he had talked to you through Feda. Just simple things like that. He needed to focus on simple things, because Paulie had told him that there was no point in trying to think of anything complicated.
[Feda always pronounces what she no doubt considers long words in a careful and drawnout manner.]
Feda always uses what she thinks are fancy words, speaking slowly and carefully.
He didn't see clearly, but he felt. He had a [ 243] good idea that you were there, and that Mrs. Kathie was there, but he wasn't sure; he was all muddled up. Poor Mrs. Kathie was doing her best. He says, Don't change the conditions, if you try it again. He never quite knows whether he is going to have good conditions or not. He wanted to speak about all this. That's all about that.
He couldn't see clearly, but he could feel. He had a [ 243] good sense that you were there, and that Mrs. Kathie was there, too, but he wasn't sure; he was all mixed up. Poor Mrs. Kathie was trying her best. He says, "Don't change the conditions if you try it again." He never really knows whether the conditions are going to be good or not. He wanted to talk about all of this. That's all there is to that.
[This is a completely accurate reference to what had happened with Mrs. Clegg in the morning of the same day. Everything is properly and accurately represented. It is the best thing about the sitting perhaps, though there are many good things in it.]
[This is a completely accurate account of what took place with Mrs. Clegg that morning. Everything is properly and accurately represented. It might be the highlight of the meeting, even though there are many other good moments in it.]
[The next incident concerns other people—and I usually omit these—but I propose to include this one.]
The next incident involves other people—and I usually skip these—but I think I’ll include this one.
About the lady he tried to help—the one that he didn't want Feda to tell who he was (p. 241).
About the woman he tried to help—the one he didn't want Feda to reveal his identity to (p. 241).
He was helping through a man who had got drowned. This lady had had no belief nor nothing in spiritual things before. The guides brought her to Feda, that she might speak with a dear friend of hers. I helped him, he says, and got both of his initials through to her—E. A.
He was assisting a man who had drowned. This woman had never had any faith or belief in spiritual matters before. The guides brought her to Feda so she could talk to a close friend of hers. "I helped him," he says, "and got both of his initials through to her—E. A."
O. J. L.—Do I know these people?
O. J. L.—Do I know these folks?
Yes, you write a lot to the lady.
Yes, you write a lot to her.
[I remembered afterwards that I had had some correspondence with a lady who was told at a sitting, apparently by Raymond, that I knew a Dr. A. She was and is a stranger, but for this curious introduction.]
[I later remembered that I had exchanged messages with a woman who was told during a session, apparently by Raymond, that I knew a Dr. A. She was and is a stranger, but that was an interesting introduction.]
O. J. L.—Is A the surname?
O.J.L.—Is A the last name?
Yes, the spirit's, not the lady's. The lady doesn't know that he [Raymond] is telling you this. And she doesn't know that he helped her. He says, It's for your own use, father. It's given her a new outlook on life.
Yes, it's the spirit's, not the lady's. The lady doesn’t know that he [Raymond] is telling you this. And she doesn’t know that he helped her. He says, "It's for your own use, father." It's given her a new perspective on life.
O. J. L.—I have no idea who she is. Can you get her name?
O.J.L.—I have no clue who she is. Can you find out her name?
Oh yes, she's a lady called Mrs. D. [Full name given easily, but no doubt got from the sitter in ordinary course.] And before, you see, she was [ 244] living a worldly life. She was interested in a way, but not much. She never tried to come into it. When she came, she thought she would have her fortune told. Raymond was waiting for her to come, and brought up the right conditions at once. The man was a nice man, he liked him, and he wanted to bring her into it. The man was fond of her. Raymond has been helping him a lot. He says, I can only help in a small way, but if you could go round and see the people just on the verge of learning something! I can't help them in a big way, but still, it's something important even what I can do. For every one I bring in like that lady, there will be a dozen coming from that.
Oh yes, she's a woman named Mrs. D. [Full name given easily, but probably obtained from the sitter in the usual way.] And before, you see, she was living a worldly life. She was somewhat interested, but not very much. She never made an effort to get involved. When she came, she thought she would have her fortune told. Raymond was expecting her and immediately set the right conditions. The man was a nice guy; he liked him and wanted to bring her into it. The man was fond of her. Raymond has been helping him a lot. He says, I can only help in a small way, but if you could go around and see the people who are just about to learn something! I can't help them in a big way, but still, even the little bit I can do is important. For every person I bring in like that lady, there will be a dozen more coming from that.
O. J. L. (still remembering nothing about these people.)—Did the man drown himself?
O. J. L. (still not remembering anything about these people.)—Did the guy drown himself?
Oh no, he wented down in a boat; they nearly all wented down together.
Oh no, he went down in a boat; they almost all went down together.
The lady wasn't expecting him—she nearly flopped over when he came.
The woman wasn't expecting him—she almost toppled over when he arrived.
O. J. L.—Was he related to the lady?
O. J. L.—Was he connected to the woman?
No, but he had been the biggest thing in her life. He says it seemed as though she must have felt something, to make her write to you.
No, but he had been the most important person in her life. He says it seemed like she must have felt something to make her write to you.
O. J. L.—However did Raymond know that she had written to me?
O.J.L.—How did Raymond know that she had written to me?
Feda doesn't know. (Sotto voce.—Tell Feda, Yaymond.)
Feda doesn't know. (Quietly.—Tell Feda, Yaymond.)
Do you believe me, father, I really can't tell you how I know some things. It's not through inquiry, but sometimes I get it just like a Marconi apparatus receives a message from somewhere, and doesn't know where it comes from at first. Sometimes I try to find out things, and I can't.
Do you believe me, Dad? I honestly can’t explain how I know certain things. It’s not from asking questions, but sometimes it just comes to me like a Marconi machine picking up a signal from nowhere, and I don’t know where it’s coming from at first. Other times, I try to figure things out, and I can’t.
[I perceived gradually that this episode related to some one named E. A. (unknown to me), about whom I had been told at a Feda sitting on Friday, 28 January 1916, Raymond seeming to want me to speak to E. A.'s father about him. And in a note to that sitting it is explained how I received a letter shortly afterwards from a stranger, a Mrs. D., [ 245] who consulted me about informing Dr. A. of the appearance of his son. The whole episode is an excellent one, but it concerns other people, and if narrated at all must be narrated more fully and in another place. Suffice it to say that the son had been lost in tragic circumstances, and that the father is impressed by the singular nature of the evidence that has now been given through the lady—a special visit to Scotland having been made by her for that express purpose. She had not known the father before, but she found him and his house as described; and he admits the details as surprisingly accurate.]
I gradually realized that this situation was linked to someone named E. A. (who I didn't know), whom I had heard about during a Feda session on Friday, January 28, 1916. Raymond seemed to want me to talk to E. A.'s father about him. In a note from that session, it mentions that I received a letter shortly after from a stranger, Mrs. D., [ 245] who asked me about informing Dr. A. about the disappearance of his son. The whole situation is quite remarkable, but it involves other people, and if it were to be shared, it would need to be done in more detail and elsewhere. It’s enough to say that the son had gone missing under tragic circumstances, and the father was struck by the unusual nature of the evidence provided by the lady—a special trip to Scotland was made by her specifically for that purpose. She didn't know the father beforehand, but she found him and his home just as described, and he confirmed that the details were surprisingly accurate.
Here is the extract from my sitting of 28 January 1916 relating to this affair:—
Here is the extract from my meeting on January 28, 1916, related to this matter:—
EXTRACT FROM O. J. L.'S SITTING WITH MRS.
LEONARD,
FRIDAY, 28 JANUARY 1916
He has met somebody called E., Raymond has. He doesn't know who it is, but wonders if you do.
He has met someone named E., Raymond has. He doesn't know who it is, but he wonders if you do.
O. J. L.—Is she an old lady?
O. J. L.—Is she a senior?
It's a man, he says. He was drownded. I have helped him a bit, at least I tried, he says. He passed on before Raymond did.
It's a man, he says. He drowned. I helped him a little, or at least I tried, he says. He passed away before Raymond did.
O. J. L.—Did he drown himself?
O. J. L.—Did he take his own life by drowning?
Raymond doesn't say that. His name was E. He was from Scotland. You will know his father.
Raymond doesn't mention that. His name was E. He was from Scotland. You'll recognize his father.
Raymond says, I have got a motive in this, father; I don't want to say too much, and I don't want to say too little. You have met E.'s father, and you will meet him again; he comes from Scotland. Raymond is not quite certain, but he thinks he is in Scotland now. His father's name begins with an A, so the other man is E. A. He was fighting his ship. Raymond thinks they was all drownded. He's older than Raymond. Raymond says he's a pretty dark chap. You know his father best, I don't know whether you knew the other chap at all. You have known his father for some years, but you don't often get a chance of meeting. I have got an idea that you will be hearing from him soon. Then you will be able to unload this onto him. They are trying to bring it about, that meeting with the father of E.
Raymond says, "I have a reason for this, dad; I don’t want to say too much, and I don’t want to say too little. You’ve met E.’s dad, and you’ll see him again; he’s from Scotland. Raymond isn’t entirely sure, but he thinks he’s in Scotland right now. His dad’s name starts with an A, so the other guy is E. A. He was fighting his ship. Raymond thinks they all drowned. He’s older than Raymond. Raymond says he’s a pretty dark guy. You know his dad best; I don’t know if you knew the other guy at all. You’ve known his dad for a few years, but you don’t often get to meet him. I have a feeling you’ll be hearing from him soon. Then you can share all this with him. They’re working on setting up that meeting with E.’s dad."
O. J. L.—I could make a guess at the surname, but perhaps I had better not.
O.J.L.—I could take a guess at the last name, but maybe I shouldn't.
No, don't. You know I'm not always sure of my facts. I know pretty well how things are, and I think I am pretty safe in saying that it is Scotland. He gives D. also. That's not a person, it's a place. Some place not far from it, called D., he says. It's near, not the place, where he lives. 'Flanked,' he calls it, 'flanked' on the other side by L. They never knew how E. passed on really. They know he was drowned, but not how it happened.
No, don't do that. You know I'm not always certain about my facts. I have a pretty good idea of how things are, and I think it's safe to say it’s Scotland. He also mentions D. That’s not a person; it’s a place. There’s another place nearby called D., he says. It’s close to where he lives, which he describes as being 'flanked' on the other side by L. They never really found out how E. died. They know he drowned, but they don’t know the details of what happened.
On receiving this message I felt that the case was a genuine one, and that I did know a Dr. A. precisely as described. And I also gradually remembered that he had lost a son at sea, though I did not know the son. But I felt that I must wait for further particulars before broaching what might be an unpalatable subject to Dr. A.
On getting this message, I really believed that the case was real, and that I actually knew a Dr. A. just as he was described. I also gradually recalled that he had lost a son at sea, even though I didn’t know the son. But I felt I needed to wait for more details before bringing up what might be a difficult topic for Dr. A.
(End of extract from 28 January 1916.)
(End of extract from 28 January 1916.)
Ultimately I did receive further particulars as narrated above, and so a month later I did go to call on the old Doctor, after the ice had been broken by Mrs. D.,—who in some trepidation had made a special journey for the purpose, and then nearly came away without opening the subject,—and I verified the trance description of his house which Mrs. D. had received and sent me. Indeed, all the facts stated turned out to be true.
Ultimately, I did get more details as mentioned earlier, and a month later, I went to visit the old Doctor, after Mrs. D. had broken the ice—she made a special trip for that reason, but was so nervous that she almost left without bringing it up. I confirmed the description of his house that Mrs. D. had received and sent me during the trance. In fact, everything she said turned out to be accurate.
The sitting of 3 March, now being reported, and interrupted by this quotation from a previous sitting, went on thus:—
The meeting on March 3, which is now being reported on and was interrupted by this quote from an earlier session, continued like this:—
He took his mother some red roses, and he wants you to tell her. He took them to her from the spirit world, they won't materialise, but I gathered some and took them to her. This isn't a test, father.
He brought his mom some red roses, and he wants you to tell her. He brought them to her from the spirit world; they won't show up in physical form, but I picked some and took them to her. This isn't a test, Dad.
O. J. L.—No. Very well, you just want her to know. I will tell her.
O. J. L.—No. Okay, you just want her to be aware. I'll let her know.
(A little talk omitted.)
(A little talk omitted.)
O. J. L.—Do you want to say anything about the other two people that you helped—last Monday, I think it was? [The Sonnenscheins; still only known to Mrs. Leonard as a lady and gentleman from Darlington.]
O. J. L.—Is there anything you'd like to say about the other two people you helped last Monday? [The Sonnenscheins; still only known to Mrs. Leonard as a couple from Darlington.]
No, there's nothing much to tell you about that, or about them. But he brought a son to them.
No, there’s not much to share about that, or about them. But he brought a son to them.
He stood on one side so as not to take any of the power. He just came at first to show Feda it was all right, and he just came in at the end to send his love.
He stood to the side so he wouldn't take any power. He initially showed up just to let Feda know everything was fine, and he came in at the end to send his love.
O. J. L.—Why did he help those particular people?
O. J. L.—Why did he help those specific people?
[I knew why, but I thought proper to ask, since from the medium's point of view there was no reason at all.]
[I understood the reason, but I felt it was appropriate to ask, since from the medium's point of view, there was no reason whatsoever.]
He says he had to. They have been worrying about whether their son had suffered much pain before he passed on. There seems to have been some uncertainty about as to whether he had or not. His body wasn't recovered as soon as it ought to have been. But he didn't suffer much. He was numbed, and didn't as a matter of fact feel much. He throwed up his arms, and rolled down a bank place.
He says he had to. They have been worried about whether their son suffered a lot of pain before he died. There seems to have been some uncertainty about whether he did or not. His body wasn't recovered as quickly as it should have been. But he didn't suffer much. He was numb and didn’t actually feel much. He threw up his arms and rolled down a slope.
[Christopher Sonnenschein was killed by falling down a snow mountain, and his body was not recovered for five days.]
Christopher Sonnenschein died after slipping down a snow-covered mountain, and his body wasn't discovered for five days.
O. J. L.—Did you know these people before?
O.J.L.—Did you know these people already?
Yes. He says, yes. But he won't tell Feda who they is.
Yes. He says yes. But he won't tell Feda who they are.
O. J. L.—Does he want to send them any message?
O.J.L.—Does he want to send them a message?
He says nothing further has come out, except that he is getting on very well, and that he was pleased. You might tell them that he is happier now. Yes, he is, since he seed them.
He says nothing else has come up, except that he's doing really well and that he's happy. You could let them know that he's happier now. Yeah, he is, since he saw them.
[The sitting referred to here, as having been held by a lady and gentleman last Monday, refers to my colleague and his wife and their deceased son Christopher. Their identity had been completely masked by the arrangements they had made, without my knowledge. The letters making arrangements were sent round by Darlington to be posted, in order to cover up tracks and remove all chance of a discoverable connexion with me. (See p. 240.) Hence it is interesting that Raymond turned up to help, for in their normal life the two youths had known each other.]
The meeting referenced here, which occurred last Monday with a woman and a man, involves my colleague and his wife, along with their late son Christopher. Their identities were entirely concealed by the arrangements they made without my awareness. The letters coordinating these arrangements were sent out by Darlington for posting, intending to hide their actions and remove any possibility of a noticeable link to me. (See p. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.) It’s worth noting that Raymond came to assist because, in their everyday lives, the two young men were familiar with each other.
He has been trying to help you since he saw you here last time. He thought that you knew that he was. He did try hard. He says, I helped you in such a funny way. I got near you and felt such a desire to help you and prevent you from getting tired. He was concentrating on the back of your head, and sort of saying to himself, and impressing the thought towards you: "It's coming easy, you shan't get tired, the brain is going to be very receptive, everything is going to flow through it easily in order." I feel myself saying it all the time, and I get so close I nearly lean on you. To my great delight, I saw you sit up once, and you said: "Ah, that's good." It was some little time back.
He’s been trying to help you since he saw you here last time. He thought you knew who he was. He really put in the effort. He says, “I helped you in such a funny way. I got close to you and felt this strong desire to help you and make sure you didn’t get tired.” He was focused on the back of your head, kind of telling himself and sending the thought to you: “This is coming easily, you won’t get tired, your brain is going to be very receptive, everything is going to flow through it easily and in order.” I feel like I’m saying it all the time, and I get so close I nearly lean on you. To my great joy, I saw you sit up once, and you said, “Ah, that’s good.” That was a little while ago.
O. J. L.—I speak to your photograph sometimes.
O. J. L.—I sometimes talk to your picture.
Yes. I can speak to you without a photograph! I am often with you, very often.
Yes. I can talk to you without a picture! I am often with you, really often.
He's taking Feda into a room with a desk in it; too big for a desk, it must be a table. A sort of a desk, a pretty big one. A chair is in front of it, not a chair like that, a high up chair, more wooden, not woolly stuff; and the light is falling on to the desk; and you are sitting there with a pen or pencil in your hand; you aren't writing much, but you are looking through writing, and making bits of writing on it; you are not doing all the writing yourself, but only bits on it. Raymond is standing at the back of you; he isn't looking at what you are doing. [The description is correct.]
He's taking Feda into a room with a desk in it; too big for a desk, it must be a table. A kind of desk, a pretty big one. There's a chair in front of it, not just any chair, a high wooden one, not upholstered; and the light is shining onto the desk; you’re sitting there with a pen or pencil in your hand; you’re not writing much, but you’re looking through some writing and jotting down bits of it; you’re not doing all the writing yourself, just pieces here and there. Raymond is standing behind you; he’s not looking at what you’re doing. [The description is correct.]
He thought you were tired out last time you came here. He knows you are sometimes. He's been wanting to say to you, "Leave some of it."
He thought you looked worn out the last time you came here. He knows you get that way sometimes. He’s been wanting to tell you, "Take a break."
O. J. L.—But there's so much to be done.
O. J. L.—But there's a lot to do.
Yes, he knows it isn't easy to leave it. But it would be better in the end if you can leave a bit, father. You are doing too much.
Yes, he knows it isn't easy to let go. But it would be better in the end if you could step back a bit, Dad. You're doing too much.
You know that I am longing and dying for the day when you come over to me. It will be a splendid day for me. But I mustn't be selfish. I have got to work to keep you away from us, and that's not easy for me.
You know I’m longing and dying for the day when you come to see me. It will be an amazing day for me. But I shouldn’t be selfish. I have to work to keep you away from us, and that’s not easy for me.
He says that lots over here talk, and say that you will be doing the most wonderful work of your life through the war. People are ready to listen now. They had too many things before to let them think about them; but now it's the great thing to think about the after-life.
He says that many people around here are talking and saying that you’ll be doing the most amazing work of your life during the war. People are ready to listen now. They had too many distractions before to think about it, but now it’s a big deal to consider the afterlife.
I want you to know that when first I came over here, I thought it a bit unfair that such a lot of fellows were coming over in the prime of life, coming over here. But now he sees that for every one that came over, dozens of people open their eyes, and want to know where he has gone to. Directly they want to know, they begin to learn something. Some of them never stopped to think seriously before. "He must be somewhere," they say, "he was so full of life; can we find out?" Then I see that through this, people are going to find out, and find out not only for themselves, but will pass it on to many others, and so it will grow.
I want you to know that when I first came here, I thought it was a bit unfair that so many guys were coming over in the prime of their lives. But now I realize that for every person who comes over, dozens of others start to wonder where they've gone. As soon as they start to ask, they begin to learn something. Some of them never really took the time to think deeply before. "He must be somewhere," they say, "he was so full of life; can we find out?" Then I see that because of this, people are going to discover the truth, not just for themselves, but they'll share it with many others, and that’s how it will spread.
He wants to tell you that Mr. Myers says that in ten years from now the world will be a different place. He says that about fifty per cent. of the civilised portion of the globe will be either spiritualists, or coming into it.
He wants to let you know that Mr. Myers believes that in ten years, the world will be a different place. He says that about fifty percent of the civilized world will either be spiritualists or moving in that direction.
O. J. L.—Fifteen per cent.?
O. J. L.—15%?
Fifty, he said.
Fifty, he said.
Raymond says, I am no judge of that, but he isn't the only one that thinks it. He says, I've got a kind of theory, in a crude sort of way, that man has made the earth plane into such a hotbed of materialism and selfishness, that man again has to atone by sacrifices of mankind in the prime of their physical life. So that by that prime self-effacement, they will bring more spiritual conditions on to the earth, which will crush the spirit of materialism. He says that isn't how I meant to put it, but I've forgotten how I meant to say it.
Raymond says, I can't really judge that, but he’s not the only one who thinks it. He says, I have this kind of theory, in a rough sort of way, that humanity has turned the earth into such a hotbed of materialism and selfishness, that we need to atone through sacrifices of people in the prime of their lives. By this selflessness, they will create more spiritual conditions on earth that will overcome the spirit of materialism. He says that's not quite how he wanted to express it, but he’s forgotten how he initially meant to say it.
O. J. L.—Well now, Raymond, Mr. Myers sent me a message to say that you had got some tests ready to get through, and that I was to give you an opportunity of giving them.
O. J. L.—So, Raymond, Mr. Myers asked me to let you know that there are some tests ready for you, and I should give you the opportunity to administer them.
Oh yes, he says. But I can't get anything [ 250] through about the Argonauts: that seems worst of anything.
Oh yes, he says. But I can't get anything [ 250] through about the Argonauts: that seems the worst of anything.
He's showing Feda a thing that looks like a canvas house. Yes, it must be a canvas house. And it looks to Feda as though it's on a place that seems to be open—a wide place. Yes, no, there's not much green showing where Feda can see. There's a kind of a door in it, like that. (Feda made some sign I didn't catch.) The canvas is sort of grey, quite a light colour, but not quite white. Oh yes, Feda feels the sound of water not far from it—ripple, ripple. Feda sees a boy—not Raymond—half lying, half sitting at the door of the tent place, and he hasn't got a proper coat on; he's got a shirt thing on here, and he's like spreaded out. It's a browny-coloured earth, not nice green, but sandy-coloured ground. As Feda looks at the land, the ground rises sharp at the back. Must have been made to rise, it sticks up in the air. He's showing it as though it should be in some photograph or picture. Feda got wondering about it, what it was for. It's a funny-shaped tent, not round, sort of lop-sided. The door isn't a proper door, it flops. You ought to be able to see a picture of this. [See photographs opposite.]
He's showing Feda something that looks like a canvas tent. Yeah, it must be a canvas tent. And to Feda, it seems to be in an open space—a big area. No, there’s not much green visible where Feda can see. There’s some sort of door on it, like that. (Feda made a gesture I didn’t catch.) The canvas is a sort of gray, pretty light in color but not completely white. Oh yes, Feda can hear the sound of water nearby—rippling. Feda sees a boy—not Raymond—half lying, half sitting at the entrance of the tent, and he isn't wearing a proper jacket; just a shirt, and he’s sprawled out. The ground is brownish, not a nice green, more like sandy soil. As Feda looks at the land, the ground rises sharply at the back. It must have been made to rise, it juts up into the air. He’s presenting it like it should be in a photograph or a painting. Feda is curious about what it's for. It’s a uniquely shaped tent, not round, kind of lopsided. The door isn’t a real door; it just flaps open. You should be able to see a picture of this. [See photographs opposite.]
O. J. L.—Has it got to do with the Argonauts?
O. J. L.—Does it have something to do with the Argonauts?
No.
No.
O. J. L.—Oh, it's not Coniston then?
O. J. L.—Oh, so it's not Coniston then?
No.
No.
O. J. L.—Is it by the sea?
O. J. L.—Is it by the ocean?
Near the water, he says; he doesn't say the sea. No, he won't say that; he says, near water. It looks hot there.
Near the water, he says; he doesn't say the ocean. No, he won't say that; he says, near water. It looks hot there.
O. J. L.—Will the boys know?
O. J. L.—Will the guys know?
You will know soon about it, he says.
You'll find out about it soon, he says.
Feda gets a feeling that there are two or three moving about inside that tent.
Feda gets the sense that there are two or three people moving around inside that tent.
O. J. L.—Is it all one chamber in the tent?
O. J. L.—Is it all one room in the tent?
He didn't say that. He was going to say, no, and then he stopped to think. No, I don't think it was, it was divided off.
He didn't say that. He was going to say no, and then he paused to think. No, I don't think it was, it was set apart.
[See photographs of two forms of this tent.]
[See photographs of two versions of this tent.]
Now he is showing something right on top of that. Now he is showing Feda a yacht, a boat with white sails. Now he is going back to the tent again. The raised up land is at the back of the tent, well set back. It doesn't give an even sticking up, but it goes right along, with bits up and bits lower down.
Now he's showing something on top of that. Now he's showing Feda a yacht, a boat with white sails. Now he's going back to the tent again. The raised land is at the back of the tent, set back well. It doesn’t stick up evenly; rather, it goes along, with some parts elevated and others lower down.
[The description could not be completely taken down, but it gave the impression of a raised bank of varying height, behind an open space, and a tent in front of it. It quite suggested that sort of picture.]
The description wasn't fully detailed, but it painted a picture of a raised bank at various heights, behind an open space, with a tent in front of it. It truly conveyed that type of scene.
[See photograph facing p. 252.]
[See photo on p. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.]
Maps, what's that? Maps, maps, he says. He's saying something about maps. This is something that the boys will know. Poring, he says. Not pouring anything out, but poring over maps. Ask the boys. [See note after further reference to maps later in the sitting.]
Maps, what’s that? Maps, maps, he says. He's talking about maps. This is something the guys will know. Poring, he says. Not pouring anything out, but poring over maps. Ask the guys. [See note after further reference to maps later in the session.]
O. J. L.—What about that yacht with sails; did it run on the water?
O. J. L.—What about that sailing yacht; did it really move through the water?
No. (Feda, sotto voce.—Oh, Raymond, don't be silly!) He says, no. (Feda.—It must have done!) He's showing Feda like a thing on land, yes, a land thing. It's standing up, like edgeways. A narrow thing. No it isn't water, but it has got nice white sails.
No. (Feda, quietly.—Oh, Raymond, don’t be ridiculous!) He says no. (Feda.—It must have made a difference!) He's showing Feda something like an object on land, yeah, a land object. It’s standing up, sort of sideways. A narrow object. No, it isn’t water, but it has nice white sails.
O. J. L.—Did it go along?
O. J. L.—Did it happen?
He says it DIDN'T! He's laughing! When he said 'didn't' he shouted it. Feda should have said, 'He laid peculiar emphasis on it.' This is for the boys.
He says it DID NOT! He's laughing! When he said 'didn't,' he shouted it. Feda should have said, 'He emphasized it in a really odd way.' This is for the guys.
O. J. L.—Had they got to do with that thing?
O. J. L.—Did they have anything to do with that?
Yes, they will know, they will understand. Yes, he keeps on showing like a boat—a yacht, he calls it, a yacht.
Yes, they will know, they will understand. Yes, he keeps showing up like a boat—a yacht, he calls it, a yacht.
[See note below and photographs.]
[See note below and photos.]
Now he is showing Feda some figures. Something flat, like a wall. Rods and things, long rods. Some have got little round things shaking on them, [ 252] like that. And he's got strings, some have got strings. 'Strings' isn't the right word, but it will do. Smooth, strong, string-like. In the corner, where it's a little bit dark, some one is standing up and leaning against something, and a piece of stuff is flapping round them.
Now he’s showing Feda some diagrams. Something flat, like a wall. Long rods and things. Some have little round objects shaking on them, [ 252] like that. And he has strings; some of them have strings. "Strings" isn’t the right word, but it works. Smooth, strong, string-like. In the corner, where it’s a little dark, someone is standing and leaning against something, and a piece of material is flapping around them.
Now he is saying again something about maps. He's going to the maps again. It isn't a little map, but it's one you can unfold and fold up small. And they used to go with their fingers along it, like that—not he only, but the boys. And it wasn't at home, but when they were going somewhere—some distance from home. And Feda gets the impression as though they must be looking at the map when it was moving. They seem to be moving smoothly along, like in one of those horrible trains. Feda has never been in a train.
Now he's talking again about maps. He's pulling out the maps again. It's not a small map, but one you can open up and fold down to a smaller size. They used to trace their fingers over it, not just him but the boys too. And it wasn't at home; it was when they were traveling somewhere—somewhere away from home. Feda feels like they must be looking at the map while it’s in motion. They seem to be gliding along, like in one of those awful trains. Feda has never been on a train.
[The mention of folded-up maps cannot be considered important, but it is appropriate, because many of the boys' common reminiscences group round long motor drives in Devonshire and Cornwall, when they must frequently have been consulting the kind of map described.]
The mention of folded maps isn't very important, but it's relevant because many of the boys' memories together relate to long car rides in Devonshire and Cornwall, when they often would have been looking at that type of map.
[Note by O. J. L. on Tent and Boat.—All this about the tent and boat is excellent, though not outside my knowledge. The description of the scenery showed plainly that it was Woolacombe sands that was meant—whither the family had gone in the summer for several years—a wide open stretch of sand, with ground rising at the back, as described, and with tents along under the bank, one of which—a big one—had been made by the boys. It was on wheels, it had two chambers with a double door, and was used for bathing by both the boys and girls. Quite a large affair, oblong in shape, like a small cottage. One night a gale carried it up to the top of the sand-hills and wrecked it. We saw it from the windows in the morning.
[Note by O. J. L. on Tent and Boat.—Everything about the tent and boat is fantastic, even though I was already aware of it. The scenery described clearly pointed to Woolacombe sands, where the family had spent summers for several years—a wide stretch of sand with rising ground in the background, just like described, and tents set up along the bank, one of which—a large one—was built by the boys. It was on wheels, had two rooms with a double door, and was used for bathing by both boys and girls. It was a pretty big structure, rectangular like a small cottage. One night, a strong wind blew it up to the top of the sand dunes and destroyed it. We saw it from the windows in the morning.
The boys pulled it to pieces, and made a smaller tent of the remains, this time with only one chamber, and its shape was now a bit lop-sided. I felt in listening to the description that there was some hesitation in Raymond's mind as to whether he was speaking of the first or the second stage of this tent.
The boys tore it apart and created a smaller tent from the scraps, this time with just one room, and now it was a bit lopsided. When I listened to Raymond's description, I sensed some uncertainty in him about whether he was talking about the first or the second version of this tent.
As for the sand-boat, it was a thing they likewise made at Mariemont, and carted down to Woolacombe. A kind of long narrow platform or plank on wheels, with a rudder and sails. At first, when it had small sails, it only went with a light passenger and a strong wind behind. But in a second season they were more ambitious, and made bigger sails to it, and that season I believe it went along the sands very fast occasionally; but it still wouldn't sail at right angles to the wind as they wanted. They finally smashed the mast by sailing in a gale with three passengers. There had been ingenuity in making it, and Raymond had been particularly active over it, as he was over all constructions. On the whole it was regarded as a failure, the wheels were too small; and Raymond's 'DIDN'T' is quite accepted.
The sand-boat was something they also built at Mariemont and took down to Woolacombe. It was a long, narrow platform on wheels, with a rudder and sails. At first, with its small sails, it could only carry one light passenger and needed a strong wind to move. But in the next season, they got more ambitious and made larger sails, which sometimes allowed it to move quickly across the sands; however, it still couldn't sail at right angles to the wind like they had hoped. They eventually broke the mast while sailing in a storm with three passengers on board. There was a lot of creativity in its construction, and Raymond was especially involved in it, just like he was with all the projects. Overall, it was considered a failure because the wheels were too small, and Raymond's 'DIDN'T' is widely acknowledged.
References to these things were evidently some of the tests (p. 249) which he had got together for transmission to me. [See photographs.]
References to these things were obviously some of the tests (p. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__) he had collected for me to look over. [See photographs.]
The rod and rings and strings, mentioned after the 'boat,' I don't at present understand. So far as I have ascertained, the boys don't understand, either, at present.]
I don’t really understand the rod, rings, and strings mentioned after the 'boat.' From what I can see, the boys don’t get it either at the moment.
I don't know whether I have got anything more that I can really call a test. You will have to take, he says (he's laughing now)—take the information about the old lady as a test.
I’m not sure I have anything else that I can actually call a test. You’ll have to take, he says (he’s laughing now)—take the information about the old lady as a test.
O. J. L.—You mean what he began with? [i.e. about Mrs. Clegg.]
O.J.L.—Are you talking about what he started with? [i.e. about Mrs. Clegg.]
Yes.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Well, it's a very good one.
O. J. L.—Well, it's really great.
He's been trying to find somebody whose name begins with K. But it isn't Mrs. Kathie, it's a gentleman. He's been trying to find him.
He's been trying to find someone whose name starts with K. But it’s not Mrs. Kathie; it’s a man. He's been looking for him.
O. J. L.—What for?
O. J. L.—For what?
He thought his mother would be interested. There's something funny about this. One is in the spirit world, but one they believe is still on the earth plane. He hasn't come over yet. [One of the two referred to is certainly dead; the other may possibly, but very improbably, be a prisoner.] There's a good deal of mystery about this, but I'm sure he isn't actually come over yet. Some people think that because we are here, we have only to go anywhere we choose, and find out anything we like. But that's Tommy-rot. They are limited, but they send messages to each other, and what he sincerely believes is, that that man has not passed on.
He thought his mom would be interested. There's something strange about this. One is in the spirit world, but the other they believe is still on earth. He hasn't crossed over yet. [One of the two mentioned is definitely dead; the other might be, but it's highly unlikely that they're imprisoned.] There's a lot of mystery around this, but I'm sure he hasn't actually crossed over yet. Some people think that because we're here, we can go anywhere we want and find out anything we like. But that's nonsense. They have limitations, but they still send messages to each other, and what he truly believes is that that man hasn't moved on.
O. J. L.—Mother thinks he has, and so do his people.
O.J.L.—Mom thinks he has, and so do his people.
Yes, yes. I don't know whether it would be advisable to tell them anything, but I have a feeling that he isn't here. I have been looking for him everywhere.
Yes, yes. I'm not sure if it's a good idea to tell them anything, but I have a feeling that he isn't here. I've been looking for him everywhere.
He keeps on building up a J. He doesn't answer when Feda asks what that is. He says there will be a few surprises for people later on.
He keeps building up a J. He doesn't respond when Feda asks what it is. He says there will be some surprises for everyone later on.
O. J. L.—Well, I take it that he wants me to understand that J. K. is on our side?
O. J. L.—So, I guess he wants me to get that J. K. is on our side?
Yes, he keeps nodding his head. Yes, in the body. Mind, he says, I've got a feeling—I can only call it a feeling—that he has been hurt, practically unconscious. Anyway, time will prove if I am right.
Yes, he keeps nodding his head. Yes, in the body. Mind, he says, I've got a feeling—I can only call it a feeling—that he has been hurt, practically unconscious. Anyway, time will prove if I am right.
O. J. L.—I hope he will continue to live, and come back.
O. J. L.—I hope he stays alive and comes back.
I hope so too. Except for the possible doubt about it, I would say tell them at once. But after all they are happier in thinking that he has gone over, than that he's in some place undergoing terrible privations.
I hope so too. Aside from any possible doubts, I would say to tell them right away. But ultimately, they are happier believing that he has moved on than thinking he is somewhere suffering through terrible hardships.
Now he's saying something carefully to Feda. He says they should not go by finding a stick. He [ 255] wants you to put that down—they ought not to go by finding a stick.
Now he's talking to Feda in a careful way. He says they shouldn't rely on finding a stick. He wants you to ignore that—they shouldn't go by finding a stick.
O. J. L.—Oh, they found a stick, did they?
O. J. L.—Oh, so they found a stick, huh?
Yes, that's how, yes.
Yeah, that's how, yeah.
[I clearly understood that this statement referred to a certain Colonel, about whom there was uncertainty for months. But a funeral service has now been held—an impressive one, which M. F. A. L. attended. On inquiry from her, I find (what I didn't know at the time of the sitting) that the evidence of his death is a riding-whip, which they found in the hands of an unrecognisable corpse. From some initials on this riding-whip, they thought it belonged to him; and on this evidence have concluded him dead. So far as I know, they entertain no doubt about it. At any rate, we have heard none expressed, either publicly or privately. Hence, the information now given may possibly turn out of interest, though there is always the possibility that, if he is a prisoner in Germany, he may not survive the treatment. He was leading an attack on the Hohenzollern Redoubt when he fell; he was seen to fall, wounded; there was great slaughter, and when at night his man returned to try and find him, he could not be found. This is my recollection of the details, but of course they can be more accurately given. At what period the whip was found, I don't know, but can ascertain.] (See also p. 266.)
I realized that this statement was about a certain Colonel, who had been a topic of uncertainty for months. However, a funeral service has now occurred—an impressive one that M. F. A. L. attended. When I asked her, I learned (what I didn't know during the meeting) that the evidence of his death is a riding whip found in the hands of an unidentifiable corpse. From some initials on this whip, they believe it belonged to him; based on this evidence, they've concluded he is dead. As far as I know, they have no doubts about it. Anyway, we haven't heard anyone express doubts about it, either publicly or privately. So, the information I'm sharing might be relevant, although there’s always a chance that if he is a prisoner in Germany, he may not survive the treatment. He was leading an attack on the Hohenzollern Redoubt when he was shot; he was seen to fall, wounded; there was a lot of bloodshed, and when his men returned at night to search for him, he couldn't be found. This is my recollection of the details, but of course they can be presented more precisely. I don't know when the whip was found, but I can find out. (See also p. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.)
[No further news yet—September 1916. But
I must confess that I think the information extremely unlikely.
—O. J. L.]
[No further updates yet—September 1916. However, I have to admit that I find the information very unlikely.
—O. J. L.]
O. J. L.—Does he remember William, our gardener?
O. J. L.—Does he remember William, our gardener?
Yes.
Yes.
Feda doesn't know what he means, but he says something about coming over. (Feda, sotto voce.—Tell Feda what you mean.)
Feda doesn't understand what he means, but he mentions something about coming over. (Feda, sotto voce.—Tell Feda what you mean.)
He doesn't give it very clearly. Feda gets an idea that he means coming over there. Yes, he does mean into the spirit world. Feda asks him, did he mean soon; but he shakes his head.
He doesn't say it very clearly. Feda realizes he means coming over there. Yes, he does mean into the spirit world. Feda asks him if he means soon, but he shakes his head.
O. J. L.—Does he mean that he has come already?
O. J. L.—Is he saying that he has already arrived?
He doesn't get that very clearly. He keeps saying, coming over, coming over, and when Feda asked 'Soon?' he shook his head, as if getting cross.
He doesn't understand that very well. He keeps saying, coming over, coming over, and when Feda asked, 'Soon?' he shook his head, as if he was getting annoyed.
O. J. L.—If he sees him, perhaps he will help him.
O. J. L.—If he sees him, maybe he'll help him.
Of course he will. He hasn't seen him yet. No, he hasn't seen him.
Of course he will. He hasn't seen him yet. No, he hasn't seen him.
[I may here record that William, the gardener, died within a week before the sitting, and that Raymond here clearly indicates a knowledge, either of his death or of its imminence.]
I should mention that William, the gardener, passed away just a week before the meeting, and it's clear that Raymond was aware of his death or that it was imminent.
It's difficult when people approach you, and say they knew your father or your mother; you don't quite know what to say to them!
It's tough when people come up to you and say they knew your dad or mom; you really don't know how to respond!
O. J. L.—Yes, it must be a bother. Do you remember a bird in our garden?
O. J. L.—Yeah, it must be annoying. Do you remember a bird in our garden?
(Feda, sotto voce.—Yes, hopping about?)
(Feda, sotto voce.—Yeah, jumping around?)
O. J. L.—No, Feda, a big bird.
O. J. L.—No, Feda, a large bird.
Of course, not sparrows, he says! Yes, he does. (Feda, sotto voce.—Did he hop, Yaymond?) No, he says you couldn't call it a hop.
Of course, not sparrows, he says! Yes, he does. (Feda, sotto voce.—Did he hop, Yaymond?) No, he says you couldn't call it a hop.
O. J. L.—Well, we will go on to something else now; I don't want to bother him about birds. Ask him does he remember Mr. Jackson?
O. J. L.—Alright, let's move on to something else now; I don't want to annoy him about birds. Ask him if he remembers Mr. Jackson?
Yes. Going away, going away, he says. He used to come to the door. (Feda, sotto voce.—Do you know what he means? Anyone can come to the door!) He used to see him every day, he says, every day. (Sotto voce.—What did he do, Yaymond?)
Yes. He says he’s leaving, he’s leaving. He used to come to the door. (Feda, sotto voce.—Do you know what he means? Anyone can come to the door!) He says he saw him every day, every day. (Sotto voce.—What did he do, Yaymond?)
He says, nothing. (I can't make out what he says.) He's thinking. It's Feda's fault, he says.
He says nothing. (I can't figure out what he's saying.) He's lost in thought. It's Feda's fault, he says.
O. J. L.—Well, never mind. Report anything he says, whether it makes sense or not.
O. J. L.—Well, whatever. Just report whatever he says, whether it makes sense or not.
He says he fell down. He's sure of that. He hurt himself. He builds up a letter T, and he shows a gate, a small gate—looks like a foot-path; not one in the middle of a town. Pain in hands and arms.
He says he fell down. He’s sure of that. He hurt himself. He shapes a letter T and points to a small gate—it looks like a footpath, not one in the center of a town. There’s pain in his hands and arms.
O. J. L.—Was he a friend of the family?
O. J. L.—Was he a family friend?
No. No, he says, no. He gives Feda a feeling of tumbling, again he gives a feeling as though—(Feda thinks Yaymond's joking)—he laughed. He was well known among us, he says; and yet, he says, not a friend of the family. Scarcely a day passed without his name being mentioned. He's joking, Feda feels sure. He's making fun of Feda.
No. No, he says, no. He makes Feda feel like she’s falling, and again she thinks Yaymond is just joking—he laughed. He was well known to us, he says; and yet, he says, not a friend of the family. Hardly a day went by without his name coming up. Feda is absolutely convinced he’s joking. He’s teasing her.
O. J. L.—No, tell me all he says.
O. J. L.—No, share everything he says.
He says, put him on a pedestal. No, that they put him on a pedestal. He was considered very wonderful. And he 'specs that he wouldn't have appreciated it, if he had known; but he didn't know, he says. Not sure if he ever will, he says. It sounds nonsense, what he says. Feda has got an impression that he's mixing him up with the bird, because he said something about 'bird' in the middle of it—just while he said something about Mr. Jackson, and then he pulled himself up, and changed it again. Just before he said 'pedestal' he said 'fine bird,' and then he stopped. In trying to answer the one, he got both mixed up, Mr. Jackson and the bird.
He says to put him on a pedestal. No, that they put him on a pedestal. He was seen as amazing. And he thinks he wouldn't have appreciated it if he had known; but he didn't know, he says. Not sure if he ever will, he says. It sounds like nonsense, what he says. Feda gets the feeling that he's confusing him with the bird because he mentioned 'bird' in the middle of it—just while talking about Mr. Jackson, and then he caught himself and changed it again. Before he said 'pedestal,' he said 'fine bird,' and then he paused. In trying to answer one, he got both mixed up, Mr. Jackson and the bird.
O. J. L.—How absurd! Perhaps he's getting tired.
O. J. L.—How ridiculous! Maybe he’s getting worn out.
He won't say he got this mixed up! But he did! Because he said 'fine bird,' and then he started off about Mr. Jackson.
He won't admit he got this confused! But he did! Because he said 'fine bird,' and then he went on about Mr. Jackson.
O. J. L.—What about the pedestal?
O. J. L.—What’s up with the pedestal?
On a pedestal, he said.
On a pedestal, he said.
O. J. L.—Would he like him put on a pedestal?
O. J. L.—Does he want him put on a pedestal?
No, he doesn't say nothing.
No, he doesn't say anything.
[Contemporary Note by O. J. L.—The episode of Mr. Jackson and the bird is a good one. 'Mr. Jackson' is the comic name of our peacock. Within the last week he has died, partly, I fear, by the severe weather. But his legs have been rheumatic and troublesome for some time; and in trying to walk he of late has tumbled down on them. He was found dead in a yard on a cold morning with his neck broken. One of the last people I saw before leaving home for this sitting was a [ 258] man whom Lady Lodge had sent to take the bird's body and have it stuffed. She showed him a wooden pedestal on which she thought it might be placed, and tail feathers were being sent with it. Hence, the reference to the pedestal, if not telepathic from me, shows a curious knowledge of what was going on. And the jocular withholding from Feda of the real meaning of Mr. Jackson, and the appropriate remarks made concerning him which puzzled Feda, were quite in Raymond's vein of humour.
[i]Contemporary Note by O. J. L.[/i]—The story about Mr. Jackson and the bird is quite amusing. 'Mr. Jackson' is the playful name we chose for our peacock. Sadly, he recently passed away, likely due to the severe weather. He had been dealing with rheumatism in his legs for some time and kept falling when trying to walk. One cold morning, he was found dead in a yard with a broken neck. One of the last people I saw before heading out to this gathering was a man sent by Lady Lodge to take the bird's body for preservation. She showed him a wooden pedestal she thought would be ideal for displaying it, and tail feathers were being sent along with it. Therefore, the mention of the pedestal, whether or not it came from me telepathically, suggests an interesting awareness of the situation. The playful way Raymond hinted to Feda about the true meaning of Mr. Jackson, along with the comments that puzzled Feda, really fit Raymond's sense of humor.
Perhaps it was unfortunate that I had mentioned a bird first, but I tried afterwards, by my manner and remarks, completely to dissociate the name Jackson from what I had asked before about the bird; and Raymond played up to it.
Maybe it was a mistake to mention the bird first, but later I tried, through my actions and comments, to completely disconnect the name Jackson from my earlier question about the bird; and Raymond went along with it.
It may be that he acquires some of these contemporary items of family information through sittings which are held in Mariemont, where of course all family gossip is told him freely, no outsider or medium being present. But the death of Mr. Jackson, and the idea of having him stuffed and put on a pedestal, were very recent, and I was surprised that he had knowledge of them. I emphasise the episode as exceptionally good.]
He might learn some of this modern family information during meetings in Mariemont, where all the family gossip is shared openly without any outsiders or intermediaries present. However, since the death of Mr. Jackson and the plan to have him stuffed and displayed happened fairly recently, I was surprised he was aware of them. I emphasize this moment as especially important.
He's trying to show Feda the side of a house; not a wall, it has got glass. He's taking Feda round to it; it has got glass stuff. Yes, and when you look in, it's like flowers inside and green stuff. He used to go there a lot—be there, he says. Red-coloured pots.
He's trying to show Feda the side of a house; not a wall, it has glass. He's taking Feda around to it; it has glass things. Yes, and when you look in, it's like flowers and greenery inside. He used to go there a lot—be there, he says. Red pots.
O. J. L.—Is that anything to do with Mr. Jackson?
O. J. L.—Does that have anything to do with Mr. Jackson?
He's shaking his head now. That's where mother got the flowers from. Tell her, she will know.
He's shaking his head now. That's where mom got the flowers from. Tell her, she'll know.
[There is more than one greenhouse that might be referred to. M. F. A. L. got the yellow jasmine, which she thinks is the flower referred to, from the neighbourhood of one of them. And it is one on which the peacock used commonly to roost; though whether the reference to it followed on, or had any connexion with, the peacock is uncertain, and seems to be denied.]
There are several greenhouses that could be discussed. M. F. A. L. got the yellow jasmine, which she thinks is the flower in question, from the area around one of them. It's also where the peacock usually roosted; however, it's not clear if this mention came after or has any connection to the peacock, and that seems to be up for debate.
Yes, he's not so clear now, Soliver. He has enjoyed himself. Sometimes he enjoys himself so much, he forgets to do the good things he prepared. I could stay for hours and hours, he says. But he's just as keen as you are in getting tests through. I think I have got some. When I go away, I pat myself on the back and think, That's something for them to say, "Old Raymond does remember something." What does aggravate him sometimes is that when he can't get things through, people think it's because he has forgotten. It isn't a case of forgetting. He doesn't forget anything.
Yes, he's not so clear now, Soliver. He has enjoyed himself. Sometimes he enjoys himself so much that he forgets to take care of the good things he had planned. "I could stay for hours and hours," he says. But he's just as eager as you are to get tests done. I think I've managed to get some. When I leave, I feel proud and think, "That's something for them to say, 'Old Raymond does remember something.'" What frustrates him sometimes is that when he can't get things done, people assume it's because he's forgotten. It's not a matter of forgetting; he doesn't forget anything.
Father, do you remember what I told mother about the place I had been to, and whom I had been allowed to see? What did they think of it?
Father, do you remember what I told Mom about the place I went to and the people I got to see? What did they think of it?
[See M. F. A. L. sitting with Mrs. Leonard, 4 February 1916, Chap. XX.]
[See M. F. A. L. sitting with Mrs. Leonard, February 4, 1916, Chap. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.]
O. J. L.—Well, the family thought that it wasn't like Raymond.
O. J. L.—Well, the family thought that it wasn't typical of Raymond.
Ah, that's what I was afraid of. That's the awful part of it.
Ah, that's what I was worried about. That's the terrible part of it.
O. J. L.—Well, I don't suppose they knew your serious side.
O. J. L.—Well, I don't think they recognized your serious side.
Before he gave that to his mother, he hesitated, and thought he wouldn't. And then he said, Never mind what they think now, I must let mother and father know. Some day they will know, and so, what does it matter?
Before he gave that to his mom, he hesitated and thought he wouldn’t. Then he said, never mind what they think right now, I need to let Mom and Dad know. Someday they will find out, so what does it matter?
He knew that they might think it was something out of a book, not me; but perhaps they didn't know that side of me so well.
He knew they might think it was something out of a book, not him; but maybe they didn't know that side of him very well.
O. J. L.—No. But among the things that came back, there was a Bible with marked passages in it, and so I saw that you had thought seriously about these things. [page 11.]
O. J. L.—No. But among the items that were returned, there was a Bible with highlighted passages, and I understood that you had put a lot of thought into these issues. [page __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.]
O. J. L.—It must have been a great experience for you.
O. J. L.—It must have been an amazing experience for you.
I hadn't looked for it, I hadn't hoped for it, but it was granted.
I hadn't searched for it, I hadn't wished for it, but it was given to me.
O. J. L.—Do you think you could take some opportunity of speaking about it through some other medium, not Feda? Because at present the boys think that Feda invented it.
O. J. L.—Do you think you could find another way to discuss it, not through Feda? Because at the moment, the guys believe Feda originated it.
Yes, that's what they do think. He says he will try very hard.
Yes, that's what they think. He says he will try really hard.
O. J. L.—Have you ever seen that Person otherwise than at that time?
O. J. L.—Have you ever seen that person at any other time?
No, I have not seen Him, except as I told you; he says, father, He doesn't come and mingle freely, here and there and everywhere. I mean, not in that sense; but we are always conscious, and we feel him. We are conscious of his presence. But you know that people think that when they go over, they will be with him hand in hand, but of course they're wrong.
No, I haven’t seen Him, except like I mentioned; He says, Dad, He doesn’t just show up and hang out freely, here and there and everywhere. I mean, not in that way; but we’re always aware, and we feel Him. We are aware of His presence. But you know that people think that when they pass on, they will be with Him hand in hand, but of course, they’re mistaken.
He doesn't think he will say very much more about that now, not until he's able to say it through some one else. It may be that they will say it wrong, that it won't be right; it may get twisted. Feda does that sometimes. (Feda, sotto voce.—No, Feda doesn't!) Yes she does, and that's why I say, go carefully.
He doesn’t think he’ll say much more about that now, not until he can express it through someone else. It might get said wrong, it might not be right; it could get twisted. Feda does that sometimes. (Feda, sotto voce.—No, Feda doesn’t!) Yes, she does, and that’s why I’m saying to be careful.
O. J. L.—Has he been through another medium to a friend of mine lately?
O. J. L.—Has he reached out to a friend of mine through another medium recently?
[This was intended to refer to a sitting which Mr. Hill was holding with Peters about that date, and, as it turned out, on the same day.]
[This was intended to refer to a meeting that Mr. Hill was having with Peters around that time, and coincidentally, it was on the same day.]
He doesn't say much. No, he doesn't say nothing about it. He hasn't got much power, and he's afraid that he might go wrong.
He doesn't say much. No, he doesn't say anything about it. He doesn't have much power, and he's worried that he might mess up.
Good-bye, father, now. My love to you, my love to mother. I am nearer to you than ever before, and I'm not so silly about [not] showing it. Love to all of them. Lionel is a dear old chap. My love to all.
Goodbye, Dad, for now. Say hi to Mom for me. I'm closer to you than ever, and I’m more open about it now. Love to everyone. Lionel is a great guy. Love to all.
Don't forget to tell mother about the roses I brought her. There's nothing to understand about them; I just wanted her to know that I brought her some flowers.
Don't forget to tell Mom about the roses I brought her. There's nothing complicated about them; I just wanted her to know that I got her some flowers.
Good night, father. I am always thinking of you. God bless you all.
Good night, Dad. I’m always thinking about you. God bless you all.
Give Feda's love to SrAlec.
Send Feda's love to SrAlec.
O. J. L.—Yes, I will, Feda. We are all fond of you.
O.J.L.—Yes, I will, Feda. We all care about you.
Yes, Feda feels it, and it lifts Feda up, and helps
her.
Yes, Feda feels it, and it lifts her up and helps her.
Mrs. Leonard speedily came-to, and seemed quite easy
and well, although the sitting had been a long one, and it
was now nearly 11.30 p.m.
Mrs. Leonard quickly regained consciousness and appeared quite comfortable and fine, even though the session had been a long one, and it was now almost 11:30 p.m.
[I repeat in conclusion that this was an excellent sitting, with a good deal of evidential matter.—O. J. L.]
[I repeat in conclusion that this was an excellent session, with plenty of evidence.—O. J. L.]
CHAPTER 22
MORE UNPROVEN INFORMATION
ON 24 March, we had some more unverifiable material
through Mrs. Leonard; it was much less striking
than that given on 4 February, and I am inclined
myself to attribute a good deal of it to hypothetical information
received by Feda from other sitters: but it seems
unfair to suppress it. In accordance with my plan I propose
to reproduce it for what it is worth.
ON 24 March, we received some more unverifiable material from Mrs. Leonard; it was much less remarkable than what was shared on 4 February, and I tend to think that a lot of it comes from hypothetical information Feda got from other sitters: but it feels unfair to hide it. Following my plan, I intend to share it for whatever it’s worth.
Sitting with Mrs. Leonard at our Flat, Friday, 24 March
1916, from 5.45 p.m. to 8 p.m.
(Present—O. J. L. and M. F. A. L.)
(Present—O. J. L. and M. F. A. L.)
Report by O. J. L.
Report by O. J. L.
(Mrs. Leonard arrived about 5.30 to tea, for a sitting with M. F. A. L. I happened to be able to come too, in order to take notes. She had just come away from another sitting, and had had some difficulty in getting rid of her previous sitter in time, which rather bothered her. The result was not specially conducive to lucidity, and the sitting seemed only a moderately good one.
(Mrs. Leonard arrived around 5:30 for tea, for a session with M. F. A. L. I happened to be able to join as well, to take notes. She had just come from another session and had some trouble wrapping it up on time, which made her a bit flustered. This didn’t help with clarity, and the session felt just okay.)
When Feda arrived she seemed pleased, and said:—)
When Feda arrived, she looked happy and said:—)
Yes it is, yes, it's Soliver!
Yes, it is! Yes, it's Soliver!
How are you? Raymond's here!
How's it going? Raymond's here!
M. F. A. L.—Is he here already?
M.F.A.L.—Is he already here?
Yes, of course he is!
Absolutely, he is!
(Feda, sotto voce.—What's he say?) He says he hasn't come to play with Feda, or make jokes; he's come about serious things.
(Feda, sotto voce.—What does he say?) He says he hasn't come to mess around with Feda or make jokes; he's here for serious matters.
Do you remember, Miss Olive [Feda's name for Lady Lodge], some time ago, about that beautiful [ 263] experience what he had? He's so glad that you and Soliver know about it, even though the others can't take it in. Years hence he thinks they may. He says, over there, they don't mind talking about the real things, over there, 'cos they're the things that count.
Do you remember, Miss Olive [Feda's name for Lady Lodge], a while ago, about that amazing [ 263] experience he had? He's really happy that you and Soliver are aware of it, even though the others can't seem to grasp it. He believes that in the years to come, they might get it. He says that over there, they don't shy away from discussing the real issues, because those are what truly matter.
He thinks the one that took it in mostly was Lionel. Yes, it seemed to sink in mostly; he was turning it over afterwards, though he didn't say much. He's more ready for that than the others. He says he would never have believed it when he was here, but he is.
He thinks the one who absorbed it the most was Lionel. Yeah, it really seemed to register with him; he was reflecting on it later, even though he didn’t say much. He’s more prepared for that than the others. He says he would have never believed it when he was here, but he does now.
He hasn't been to that place again, not that same place. But he's been to a place just below it. He's been attending lectures, at what they call, "halls of learning": you can prepare yourself for the higher spheres while you are living in lower ones. He's on the third, but he's told that even now he could go on to the fourth if he chose; but he says he would rather be learning the laws ap-per-taining to each sphere while he's still living on the third, because it brings him closer—at least until you two have come over. He will stay and learn, where he is. He wouldn't like to go on there and then find it to be difficult to get back. He will wait till we can go happily and comfortably together!
He hasn't returned to that place, not that same one. But he's gone to a spot just below it. He's been attending lectures at what they call "halls of learning": you can prepare yourself for higher realms while living in lower ones. He's on the third level, but he's been told he could move on to the fourth anytime he wants; however, he says he'd rather learn the laws related to each level while still living on the third, because it brings him closer—at least until you two arrive. He’ll stay and learn where he is. He wouldn’t want to move on and then find it hard to come back. He’ll wait until we can go together happily and comfortably!
Would it interest you for him to tell you about one of the places he's been to? It's so interesting to him, that he might seem to exaggerate; but the experience is so wonderful, it lives with him.
Would you like him to share a story about one of the places he's visited? It's so fascinating to him that he might come across as exaggerating, but the experience is so incredible that it stays with him.
He went into a place on the fifth sphere—a place he takes to be made of alabaster. He's not sure that it really was, but it looked like that. It looked like a kind of a temple—a large one. There were crowds passing into this place, and they looked very happy. And he thought, "I wonder what I'm going to see here." When he got mixed up with the crowd going into the temple, he felt a kind of—(he's stopping to think). It's not irreverency what he says, but he felt a kind of feeling as if he had had too much champagne—it went to his head, he felt too buoyant, as if carried a bit off the ground.
He entered a place on the fifth sphere—a place he thinks is made of alabaster. He's not entirely sure it actually was, but that's how it appeared. It looked like a big temple. There were crowds moving into this place, and they seemed really happy. He thought, "I wonder what I'm going to see here." When he got caught up with the crowd heading into the temple, he felt a kind of—(he's pausing to think). It’s not irreverent what he says, but he felt almost like he had too much champagne—it went to his head, he felt too light, as if he were being lifted off the ground.
That's 'cos he isn't quite attuned to the conditions of that sphere. It's a most extraordinary feeling. He went in, and he saw that though the building was white, there were many different lights: looked like certain places covered in red, and ... was blue, and the centre was orange. These were not the crude colours that go by those names, but a softened shade. And he looked to see what they came from. Then he saw that a lot of the windows were extremely large, and the panes in them had glass of these colours. And he saw that some of the people would go and stand in the pinky coloured light that came through the red glass, and others would stand in the blue light, and some would stand in the orange or yellow coloured light. And he thought, "What are they doing that for?" Then some one told him that the pinky coloured light was the light of the love-colour; and the blue was the light of actual spiritual healing; and the orange was the light of intellect. And that, according to what people wanted, they would go and stand under that light. And the guide told him that it was more important than what people on earth knew. And that, in years to come, there would be made a study of the effect of different lights.
That's because he isn't quite in tune with the conditions of that place. It's a really extraordinary feeling. He walked in and noticed that even though the building was white, there were many different lights: it looked like some areas were shaded in red, some were blue, and the center was orange. These weren't the harsh colors usually associated with those names but softer shades. He looked to see where they came from. Then he saw that many of the windows were very large, and the glass panes had those colors. He noticed that some people would stand in the pink light that came through the red glass, others would stand in the blue light, and some would stand in the orange or yellow light. He wondered, "What are they doing that for?" Then someone told him that the pink light represented the light of love; the blue was the light of actual spiritual healing; and the orange was the light of intellect. And that, depending on what people needed, they would stand in that light. The guide mentioned that this was more significant than what people on earth understood. And that, in the years to come, there would be a study on the effects of different lights.
The pinky people looked clever and developed in their attitude and mentality generally; but they hadn't been able to cultivate the love-interest much, their other interests had overpowered that one. And the people who went into the intellectual light looked softer and happy, but not so clever looking. He says he felt more drawn to the pink light himself, but some one said, "No, you have felt a good deal of that," and he got out and went into the other two, and he felt that he liked the blue light best. And he thinks that perhaps you will read something into that. I had the other conditions, but I wanted the other so much. The blue seemed to call me more than the others. After I had been in it some time, I felt that nothing mattered much, except preparing for the spiritual life. He says [ 265] that the old Raymond seemed far away at the time, as though he was looking back on some one else's life—some one I hadn't much connexion with, and yet who was linked on to me. And he felt, "What does anything matter, if I can only attain this beautiful uplifting feeling." I can't tell you what I felt like, but reading it over afterwards, perhaps you will understand. Words feel powerless to describe it. He won't try, he will just tell you what happened after.
The pinky people seemed smart and developed in their mindset, but they hadn't focused much on romance; their other interests had taken over that part of life. The people drawn to the intellectual light looked softer and happier, but not as clever. He mentioned he felt more attracted to the pink light himself, but someone said, "No, you've had enough of that," so he left and explored the other two, realizing he actually preferred the blue light. He thinks maybe you'll pick up on that. I experienced the other conditions, but I wanted the blue so much. It seemed to call to me more than the rest. After spending some time in it, I felt that nothing really mattered except preparing for a spiritual life. He says that the old Raymond felt distant at the time, like he was reflecting on someone else's life—someone I didn't feel connected to, but who was still tied to me. And he felt, "What does anything matter if I can just reach this beautiful, uplifting feeling?" I can't explain how I felt, but reading this later, maybe you will get it. Words seem inadequate to describe it. He won't try; he'll just tell you what happened next.
We sat down—the seats were arranged something like pews in a church—and as he looked towards the aisle, he saw coming up it about seven figures. And he saw, from his former experience, that they were evidently teachers come down from the seventh sphere. He says, they went up to the end part, and they stood on a little raised platform; and then one of them came down each of the little aisles, and put out their hands on those sitting in the pews. And when one of the Guides put his hand on his head, he felt a mixture of all three lights—as if he understood everything, and as if everything that he had ever felt, of anger or worry, all seemed nothing. And he felt as if he could rise to any height, and as if he could raise everybody round him. As if he had such a power in himself. He's stopping to think over it again.
We sat down—the seats were set up kind of like church pews—and as he looked toward the aisle, he saw about seven figures coming up. From his past experience, he recognized that they were clearly teachers coming down from the seventh sphere. He said they walked up to the front and stood on a small raised platform; then one of them came down each of the little aisles and placed their hands on those sitting in the pews. When one of the Guides put his hand on his head, he felt a blend of all three lights—as if he understood everything, and all the anger or worry he’d ever felt seemed trivial. He felt like he could rise to any height and elevate everyone around him, as though he had immense power within himself. He paused to think it over again.
They sat and listened, and the first part of the ceremony was given in a lecture, in which one of the Guides was telling them how to teach others on the lower spheres and earth plane, to come more into the spiritual life, while still on those lower planes. I think that all that went before was to make it easy to understand. And he didn't get only the words of the speaker, words didn't seem to matter, he got the thought—whole sentences, instead of one word at a time. And lessons were given on concentration, and on the projection of uplifting and helpful thoughts to those on the earth plane. And as he sat there—he sat, they were not kneeling—he felt as if something was [ 266] going from him, through the other spheres on to the earth, and was helping somebody, though he didn't know who it was. He can't tell you how wonderful it was; not once it happened, but several times.
They sat and listened, and the first part of the ceremony was presented as a lecture, where one of the Guides instructed them on how to help others in the lower realms and on Earth to embrace more of the spiritual life while still being on those lower levels. I think everything that led up to it was meant to make it easier to understand. He didn't just grasp the speaker's words; the actual words didn’t seem significant—he understood the whole idea, getting complete thoughts instead of just one word at a time. The lessons covered concentration and how to project uplifting and supportive thoughts to those on Earth. As he sat there—sitting rather than kneeling—he felt something flowing from him, reaching through the different realms down to Earth, helping someone, though he had no idea who it was. He couldn’t express how incredible it was; it didn't happen just once, but several times.
He's even been on to the sixth sphere too. The sixth sphere was even more beautiful than the fifth, but at present he didn't want to stay there. He would rather be helping people where he is.
He's even been to the sixth sphere too. The sixth sphere was even more beautiful than the fifth, but right now he didn't want to stay there. He would rather be helping people where he is.
O. J. L.—Does he see the troubles of people on the earth?
O. J. L.—Does he notice the struggles of people on earth?
Yes, he does sometimes.
Yeah, he does sometimes.
I do wish that we could alter people so that they were not ashamed to talk about the things that matter. He can see people preparing for the summer holidays, and yet something may prevent them. But the journey that they have got to go some time, that they don't prepare for at all.
I really wish we could change people so they wouldn’t feel embarrassed to discuss what really matters. He notices people getting ready for their summer vacations, but something might hold them back. Yet the journey they have to take eventually is something they don’t prepare for at all.
M. F. A. L.—How can you prepare for it?
MFA—How can you get ready for it?
Yes, by speaking about it openly, and living your life so as to make it easier for yourself and others.
Yes, by talking about it openly and living your life in a way that makes it easier for yourself and others.
O. J. L.—Is Raymond still there? Has he got any more tests to give, or anything to say, to the boys or anybody?
O.J.L.—Is Raymond still around? Does he have any more tests to give, or anything to say to the guys or anyone else?
Did they understand about the yacht?
Did they know about the yacht?
O. J. L.—Yes, they did.
O. J. L.—Yeah, they did.
And about the tent?
What about the tent?
O. J. L.—Yes, they did.
O. J. L.—Yeah, they did.
He's very pleased—it bucks him up when he gets things through.
He's really happy—it lifts his spirits when he gets things done.
O. J. L.—Have you learnt any more about [the Colonel[28]]?
O. J. L.—Have you found out anything new about [the Colonel[28]]?
He's not on the spirit side. He feels sure he isn't. Somebody told him that there was a body found, near the place where he had been, and it was dressed in uniform like he had had. But something had happened to it here (pointing to her head).
He's not on the spirit side. He feels certain he isn't. Someone told him that a body was found near where he had been, and it was dressed in the same uniform he had. But something had happened to it here (pointing to her head).
O. J. L.—Who was it told you?
O. J. L.—Who let you know?
Some one on the other side; just a messenger, not one who knew all about it. No, the messenger didn't seem to know J. K. personally, but he had [ 267] gathered the information from the minds of people on the earth plane. And Feda isn't quite sure, but thinks that there was something missing from the body—missing from the body that they took to be him, which would have identified him.
Someone on the other side; just a messenger, not someone who knew all the details. No, the messenger didn’t seem to know J. K. personally, but he had [ 267] gathered the information from the thoughts of people on the earthly plane. And Feda isn't entirely sure, but thinks that something was missing from the body—missing from the body that they assumed was him, which would have identified him.
O. J. L.—Do you mean the face?
O.J.L.—Are you talking about the face?
No, he doesn't mean the face.
No, he doesn't mean the face.
(M. F. A. L., here pointing to her chest, signified to me that she knew that it was the identification disk that was missing.)
(M. F. A. L., pointing to her chest, indicated that she noticed the identification disk was missing.)
M. F. A. L.—Why was it missing?
MFA—Why wasn't it there?
Because it wasn't he! In the first place, it couldn't be, but if that had only been there, they would have known. He can't say where he is at the present moment, but he heard a few days ago that he is being kept somewhere, and as far as he can make out, in Belgium. It's as though he had been taken some distance.
Because it wasn't him! First of all, it couldn't be, but if he had just been there, they would have known. He can't say where he is right now, but he heard a few days ago that he is being held somewhere, and as far as he can tell, it's in Belgium. It feels like he has been taken quite a distance.
Raymond's not showing this—but Feda's shown in a sort of flash a letter. First a B, and then an R. But the B doesn't mean Belgium; it's either a B or an R, or both. It just flashed up. It may mean the place where he is. But Raymond doesn't know where he is, only he's quite sure that he isn't on the spirit side. But he's afraid he's ill.
Raymond isn't showing this, but Feda has briefly shown a letter. First a B, then an R. But the B doesn't stand for Belgium; it's either a B or an R, or both. It just appeared for a moment. It might indicate where he is. But Raymond doesn't know where that is; he just knows he isn't on the spirit side. But he's worried that he's unwell.
O. J. L.—Have you anything more to say about E. A.? [See 3 March record, p. 243.]
O. J. L.—Do you have anything else to share about E. A.? [See 3 March record, p. 243.]
No, no more. Raymond came to Feda to help the lady who came. Feda started describing Raymond. And he said, no, only come to help. And then he brought the one what was drownded. He came to help also with another, but Feda didn't tell that lady, 'cos she didn't know you. He doesn't like Feda to tell. Feda couldn't understand why he wanted to help, because she didn't know he knew that gentleman. He helped E. A. to build up a picture of his home. Perhaps she thinks it was Feda being so clever!
No, no more. Raymond came to Feda to help the woman who arrived. Feda started describing Raymond, and he said, no, he only came to help. Then he brought the one who had drowned. He also came to help with someone else, but Feda didn't tell that woman because she didn't know you. He doesn't like Feda to share that. Feda couldn't understand why he wanted to help since she didn't know he was familiar with that gentleman. He helped E. A. create a picture of his home. Maybe she thinks it was Feda being so clever!
O. J. L.—Yes, I know, she's been there to see it. [See p. 245.]
O. J. L.—Yes, I know, she's witnessed it. [See p. 245.]
Yes, and she found it what she said. He told [ 268] her that she wouldn't be seeing his mother. She couldn't see why she shouldn't see his mother; but she didn't. [True.]
Yes, and she believed what she said. He told [ 268] her that she wouldn't be seeing his mother. She couldn't understand why she shouldn't meet his mother; but she didn't. [True.]
Raymond hasn't got any good tests. He can't manufacture them, and they are so hard to remember.
Raymond doesn't have any good tests. He can't create them, and they're so hard to memorize.
O. J. L.—Is he still in his little house?
O. J. L.—Is he still in his small house?
Oh yes, he feels at home there.
Oh yes, he feels at home there.
O. J. L.—He said it was made of bricks—I could make nothing of that.
O.J.L.—He said it was made of bricks—I couldn't make sense of that.
I knew you couldn't! It's difficult to explain. At-om-; he say something about at-om-ic principle. They seem to be able to draw (?) certain unstable atoms from the atmosphere and crystallise them as they draw near certain central attraction. That isn't quite what Feda thinks of it. Feda has seen like something going round—a wheel—something like electricity, some sparks dropping off the edge of the wheel, and it goes crick, crick, and becomes like hard; and then they falls like little raindrops into the long thing under the wheel—Raymond calls it the accumulator. I can't call them anything but bricks. It's difficult to know what to call them. Wait until you come over, and I'll show you round. And you will say, "By Jove, so they are!" Things are quite real here. Mind, I don't say things are as heavy as on the earth, because they're not. And if he hit or kicked something it wouldn't displace it so much as on the earth, because we're lighter. I can't tell you exactly what it is; I'm not very interested in making bricks, but I can see plainly how it's apparently done.
I knew you couldn't! It's hard to explain. He said something about atomic principle. They seem to be able to draw certain unstable atoms from the atmosphere and crystallize them as they come close to a central attraction. That’s not quite what Feda thinks about it. Feda has seen something spinning—a wheel—something like electricity, with sparks dropping off the edge of the wheel, and it goes crick, crick, and becomes solid; then they fall like little raindrops into the long thing under the wheel—Raymond calls it the accumulator. I can only call them bricks. It's tough to know what to call them. Wait till you come over, and I'll show you around. You’ll say, "By Jove, so they are!" Things are very real here. Just so you know, I’m not saying things are as heavy as on Earth, because they're not. And if he hits or kicks something, it wouldn’t displace it as much as on Earth, because we're lighter. I can't tell you exactly what it is; I'm not very interested in making bricks, but I can see clearly how it’s apparently done.
He says it appears to him too, that the spirit spheres are built round the earth plane, and seem to revolve with it. Only, naturally, the first sphere isn't revolving at such a rate as the third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh spheres. Greater circumference makes it seem to revolve more rapidly. That seems to have an actual effect on the atmospheric conditions prevailing in any one of the spheres. Do you see what he's getting at?
He thinks that the spirit spheres are arranged around the earth and seem to rotate with it. However, the first sphere isn't moving as fast as the third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh spheres. The larger circumference makes it appear to spin more quickly. This seems to actually impact the atmospheric conditions in each of the spheres. Do you understand what he's saying?
O. J. L.—Yes. He only means that the peripheral velocity [ 269] is greater for the bigger spheres, though the angular velocity is the same.
O. J. L.—Yes. He just means that the outer speed [ 269] is higher for the larger spheres, even though the rotation speed is the same.
Yes, that's just what he means. And it does affect the different conditions, and that's why he felt a bit careful when he was on a higher sphere, in hanging on to the ground.
Yes, that's exactly what he means. And it does impact the different conditions, which is why he was a bit cautious when he was in a higher state, holding on to the ground.
[A good deal of this struck me as nonsense; as if Feda had picked it up from some sitter. But I went on recording what was said.]
[A lot of this seemed like nonsense to me; as if Feda had heard it from someone else. But I kept writing down what was said.]
Such a lot of people think it's a kind of thought-world, where you think all sort of things—that it's all "think." But when you come over you see that there's no thinking about it; it's there, and it does impress you with reality. He does wish you would come over. He will be as proud as a cat with something tails—two tails, he said. Proud as a cat with two tails showing you round the places. He says, father will have a fine time, poking into everything, and turning everything inside out.
A lot of people believe it’s just a imaginary place, where you think about all sorts of things—that it’s all just “thinking.” But when you come over, you realize it’s not about thinking at all; it’s real, and it really hits you with its reality. He really hopes you’ll come over. He’ll be as proud as a cat with two tails, he said, showing you around the different spots. He says Dad will have a great time exploring everything and turning everything inside out.
There's plenty flowers growing here, Miss Olive, you will be glad to hear. But we don't cut them here. They doesn't die and grow again; they seem to renew themselves. Just like people, they are there all the time renewing their spirit bodies. The higher the sphere he went to, the lighter the bodies seemed to be—he means the fairer, lighter in colour. He's got an idea that the reason why people have drawn angels with long fair hair and very fair complexion is that they have been inspired by somebody from very high spheres. Feda's not fair; she's not brown, but olive coloured; her hair is dark. All people that's any good has black hair.
There's plenty of flowers growing here, Miss Olive, you’ll be happy to know. But we don’t cut them here. They don’t die and grow back; they seem to renew themselves. Just like people, they are always renewing their spirit bodies. The higher the sphere he went to, the lighter the bodies seemed to be—he means fairer, lighter in color. He thinks the reason why people have depicted angels with long fair hair and very light complexions is that they were inspired by someone from very high spheres. Feda's not fair; she’s not brown, but olive-colored; her hair is dark. All the good people have black hair.
Do you know that [a friend] won't be satisfied unless he comes and has a talk through the table. Feda doesn't mind now, 'cos she has had a talk. So she will go now and let him talk through the table all right.
Do you know that [a friend] won't be happy unless he comes and has a conversation at the table? Feda doesn't care anymore because she has already had a chat. So she'll go now and let him talk at the table just fine.
Give Feda's love to all of them, specially to SLionel—Feda likes him.
Give Feda's love to everyone, especially to SLionel—Feda really likes him.
(Mrs. Leonard now came-to, and after about ten minutes she and M. F. A. L. sat at a small octagonal table, which, in another five minutes, began to tilt.)
(Mrs. Leonard now woke up, and after about ten minutes, she and M. F. A. L. sat at a small octagonal table, which, in another five minutes, started to tilt.)
[But the subject now completely changed, and,
if reported at all, must be reported elsewhere.]
[But the topic has completely shifted, and if it's reported at all, it needs to be reported somewhere else.]
I may say that several times, during a Feda sitting, some special communicator has asked for a table sitting to follow, because he considers it more definite and more private. And certainly some of the evidence so got has been remarkable; as indeed it was on this occasion. But the record concerns other people, distant friends of my wife, some of whom take no interest in the subject whatever.
I can say that several times, during a Feda session, a specific communicator has requested a table sitting afterward, because they find it more clear and private. And indeed, some of the evidence gathered this way has been impressive; as it was on this occasion. However, the record pertains to other individuals, distant friends of my wife, some of whom have no interest in the topic at all.
Footnotes
Footnotes
[27] This shows clear and independent knowledge of the sitting which I had held with Mrs. Clegg that same morning (see early parts of this chapter).
CHAPTER 23
A few isolated incidents
THERE are a number of incidents which might be
reported, some of them of characteristic quality, and
a few of them of the nature of good tests. The first
of these reported here is decidedly important.
THERE are several incidents that could be reported, some of which are quite notable, and a few of them serve as good tests. The first one mentioned here is definitely significant.
I. SIMULTANEOUS SITTINGS IN LONDON AND EDGBASTON
Special 'Honolulu' Test Episode
Lionel and Norah, going through London on the way to Eastbourne, on Friday, 26 May 1916, arranged to have a sitting with Mrs. Leonard about noon. They held one from 11.55 to 1.30, and a portion of their record is transcribed below.
Lionel and Norah, traveling through London on their way to Eastbourne, on Friday, May 26, 1916, scheduled a meeting with Mrs. Leonard around noon. They had a session from 11:55 to 1:30, and part of their record is transcribed below.
At noon it seems suddenly to have occurred to Alec in Birmingham to try for a correspondence test; so he motored up from his office, extracted some sisters from the Lady Mayoress's Depot, where they were making surgical bandages, and took them to Mariemont for a brief table sitting. It lasted about ten minutes, between 12.10 and 12.20 p.m. And the test which he then and there suggested was to ask Raymond to get Feda in London to say the word "Honolulu." This task, I am told, was vigorously accepted and acquiesced in.
At noon, Alec suddenly decided in Birmingham to go for a correspondence test. He drove up from his office, picked up some sisters from the Lady Mayoress's Depot, where they were making surgical bandages, and took them to Mariemont for a quick meeting. It lasted about ten minutes, from 12:10 to 12:20 p.m. The test he suggested was asking Raymond to get Feda in London to say the word "Honolulu." I’ve heard that this task was eagerly accepted and agreed to.
A record of this short sitting Alec wrote on a letter-card to me, which I received at 7 p.m. the same evening at Mariemont: the first I had heard of the experiment. The postmark is "1 p.m. 26 My 16," and the card runs thus:—
A record of this brief meeting Alec sent to me on a postcard, which I got at 7 p.m. that same evening at Mariemont: the first I had heard about the experiment. The postmark is "1 p.m. 26 May 16," and the card says:—
"Mariemont, Friday, 26 May, 12.29 p.m.
"Mariemont, Friday, May 26, 12:29 PM.
"Honor, Rosalynde, and Alec sitting in drawing-room at table. Knowing Lionel and Norah having Feda sitting in London simultaneously. Asked Raymond to give our love to Norah and Lionel and to try and get Feda to say Honolulu. Norah and Lionel know nothing of this, as it was arranged by A. M. L. after 12 o'clock to-day.
"Honor, Rosalynde, and Alec are sitting at the table in the drawing room. They know that Lionel and Norah have Feda with them in London at the same time. They asked Raymond to send their love to Norah and Lionel and to try to get Feda to say Honolulu. Norah and Lionel aren’t aware of this, as it was arranged by A. M. L. after noon today."
"(Signed) Alec M. Lodge
Honor G. Lodge
Rosalynde V. Lodge"
"(Signed) Alec M. Lodge
Honor G. Lodge
Rosalynde V. Lodge"
It is endorsed on the back in pencil, "Posted at B'ham General P.O. 12.43 p.m."; and, in ink, "Received by me 7 p.m.—O. J. L. Opened and read and filed at once."
It’s stamped on the back in pencil, “Posted at B'ham General P.O. 12:43 p.m.”; and, in ink, “Received by me 7 p.m.—O. J. L. Opened, read, and filed right away.”
The sitters in London knew nothing of the contemporaneous attempt; and nothing was told them, either then or later. Noticing nothing odd in their sitting, which they had not considered a particularly good one, they made no report till after both had returned from Eastbourne a week later.
The sitters in London were unaware of the ongoing attempt, and nothing was mentioned to them, either at the time or afterward. They didn't notice anything unusual during their sitting, which they hadn't thought was particularly good, so they didn't make any report until both had returned from Eastbourne a week later.
The notes by that time had been written out, and were given me to read to the family. As I read, I came on a passage near the end, and, like the few others who were in the secret, was pleased to find that the word "Honolulu" had been successfully got through. The subject of music appeared to have been rather forced in by Raymond, in order to get Feda to mention an otherwise disconnected and meaningless word; the time when this was managed being, I estimate, about 1.0 or 1.15. But of course it was not noted as of any interest at the time.
The notes had been written out by that point and were given to me to read to the family. As I read, I came across a passage near the end, and, like the few others who knew, I was glad to see that the word "Honolulu" had made it through successfully. It seemed that Raymond had pushed the topic of music to get Feda to say an otherwise unrelated and meaningless word; I estimate this happened around 1:00 or 1:15. But, of course, it wasn’t considered noteworthy at the time.
Here follow the London Notes. I will quote portions
of the sitting only, so as not to take up too much space:—
Here are the London Notes. I’ll just quote parts of the meeting to keep it brief:—
Sitting of Lionel and Norah with Mrs. Leonard in London,
Friday, 26 May 1916, beginning 11.55 a.m.
Extracts from the report by L. L.
After referring to Raymond's married sister and her husband, Feda suddenly ejaculated:—
After mentioning Raymond's married sister and her husband, Feda suddenly exclaimed:—
How is Alec?
How's Alec doing?
L. L.—Oh, all right.
L. L.—Oh, fine.
He just wanted to know how he was, and send his love to him. He does not always see who is at the table; he feels some more than others.[29]
He just wanted to check in on him and send his love. He doesn’t always notice everyone at the table; he feels some people more than others.[29]
He says you (to Norah) sat at the table and Lionel.
He says you (to Norah) were sitting at the table with Lionel.
He felt you (Norah) more than any one else at the table.
He felt you (Norah) more than anyone else at the table.
[This is unlikely. He seems to be thinking that it is Honor.]
[This is unlikely. He seems to think it’s Honor.]
Feda feels that if you started off very easily, you would be able to see him. Develop a normal ... [clairvoyance probably].
Feda thinks that if you begin in a relaxed way, you'll be able to see him. Just develop a normal ... [clairvoyance probably].
Raymond says, go slowly, develop just with time, go slowly. Even the table helps a little.
Raymond says, take it slow, let it develop over time, take it slow. Even the table helps a bit.
He can really get through now in his own words. When he is there, he now knows what he has got through.
He can express himself now in his own words. When he's there, he understands what he's accomplished.
The Indians have got through their hanky-panky. [We thought that this meant playing with the table in a way beyond his control.]
The Indians have finished their antics. [We thought this meant messing with the table in a way he couldn't control.]
He says that Lily is here. (Feda, sotto voce.—Where is she?)
He says that Lily is here. (Feda, quietly.—Where is she?)
She looks very beautiful, and has lilies; she will help too, and give you power.
She looks really beautiful and has lilies; she will help you too and give you strength.
Sit quietly once or twice a week, hold your hands, the right over the left, so, for ten minutes, then sit quiet—only patience. He could wait till doomsday.
Sit quietly once or twice a week, placing your right hand over your left, for ten minutes, then just sit still—just be patient. He could wait until the end of the world.
He says, Wait and see; he is laughing!
He says, "Just wait and see; he's laughing!"
He has seen Curly (p. 203).
He has seen Curly (__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__).
L. L.—Is Curly there now?
L. L.—Is Curly here now?
No, see her when we wants to. That's the one that wriggles and goes ... (here Feda made a sound like a dog panting, with her tongue out—quite a good imitation).
No, we can see her whenever we want. That's the one that wriggles and goes ... (here Feda made a sound like a dog panting, with her tongue out—pretty good imitation).
Raymond has met another boy like Paul, a boy called Ralph. He likes him. There is what you call a set. People meet there who are interested in [ 274] the same things. Ralph is a very decent sort of chap.[30]
Raymond has met another boy like Paul, a boy named Ralph. He likes him. There’s a group where people gather who share similar interests. Ralph is a really decent guy.[30]
(To Norah).—You could play.
(To Norah).—You can play.
N. M. L.—Play what?
N. M. L.—What to play?
Not a game, a music.
Not a game, a song.
N. M. L.—I am afraid I can't, Raymond.
N. M. L.—I'm sorry, Raymond, but I can't.
(Feda, sotto voce.—She can't do that.)
(Feda, sotto voce.—She can't pull that off.)
He wanted to know whether you could play Hulu—Honolulu.
He wanted to know if you could play Hulu—Honolulu.
Well, can't you try to? He is rolling with laughter [meaning that he's pleased about something].
Well, can't you give it a shot? He's laughing really hard [meaning that he's pleased about something].
He knows who he is speaking to, but he can't give the name.
He knows who he's talking to, but he can't say the name.
[Here he seems to know that it is Norah and not Honor.]
[Here he seems to know that it's Norah and not Honor.]
L. L.—Should I tell him?
L. L.—Should I tell him?
No.
No.
He says something about a yacht; he means a test he sent through about a yacht. Confounded Argonauts![31]
He mentions something about a yacht; he's referring to a test he sent regarding a yacht. Stupid Argonauts![31]
He is going. Fondest love to them at Mariemont.
He’s leaving. Sending all my love to everyone at Mariemont.
The sitting continued for a short time longer, ending
at 1.30 p.m., but the present report may end here.
The meeting went on for a little while longer, wrapping up at 1:30 p.m., but we can conclude the current report here.
Note on the 'Honolulu' Episode by O. J. L.
In my judgment there were signs that the simultaneous holding of two sittings, one with Honor and Alec in Edgbaston, and one with Lionel and Norah in London, introduced a little harmless confusion; there was a tendency in London to confuse Norah with Honor, and Alec was mentioned in London in perhaps an unnecessary way. I do not press this, however, but I do press the 'Honolulu' episode—
In my opinion, having two meetings at the same time—one with Honor and Alec in Edgbaston, and one with Lionel and Norah in London—created a bit of harmless confusion. People in London tended to mix up Norah and Honor, and Alec was mentioned in a way that might have been a bit unnecessary. I'm not insisting on this point, but I do want to emphasize the 'Honolulu' episode—
- because it establishes a reality about the home sittings,
- because it so entirely eliminates anything of the nature of collusion, conscious or unconscious,
- because the whole circumstances of the test make it an exceedingly good one.
What it does not exclude is telepathy. In fact it may
be said to suggest telepathy. Yes, it suggests distinctly
one variety of what, I think, is often called telepathy—a
process sometimes conducted, I suspect, by an unrecognised
emissary or messenger between agent and percipient. It
was exactly like an experiment conducted for thought
transference at a distance. For at Edgbaston was a party
of three sitting round a table and thinking for a few seconds
of the word 'Honolulu'; while in London was a party
of two simultaneously sitting with a medium and
recording what was said. And in their record the word
'Honolulu' occurs. Telepathy, however—of whatever
kind—is not a normal explanation; and I venture to
say that there is no normal explanation, since in my
judgment chance is out of the question. The subject
of music was forced in by the communicator, in order
to bring in the word; it did not occur naturally; and
even if the subject of music had arisen, there was
no sort of reason for referring to that particular song.
The chief thing that the episode establishes, to my mind,
and a thing that was worth establishing, is the genuine
character of the simple domestic sittings without a medium
which are occasionally held by the family circle at
Mariemont. For it is through these chiefly that Raymond
remains as much a member of the family group
as ever.
What it doesn’t rule out is telepathy. In fact, it could be said to imply telepathy. Yes, it distinctly suggests one type of what I think is often referred to as telepathy—a process sometimes carried out, I suspect, by an unrecognized messenger between the sender and the receiver. It was exactly like an experiment conducted for distance thought transfer. Because in Edgbaston, there was a group of three sitting around a table, thinking for a few seconds about the word 'Honolulu'; meanwhile, in London, there was a group of two sitting with a medium and recording what was being said. And in their notes, the word 'Honolulu' appears. However, telepathy—of whatever kind—does not provide a normal explanation; and I dare say there is no conventional explanation, since in my opinion, chance is not an option. The topic of music was introduced by the communicator to bring in the word; it did not come up naturally; and even if the topic of music had come up, there was no reason to mention that particular song. The most important thing that this incident establishes, in my view, and something worth establishing, is the genuine nature of the simple family gatherings without a medium that are sometimes held by the family at Mariemont. It is mainly through these that Raymond remains as much a part of the family as ever.
II. IMPROMPTU MARIEMONT SITTING
Once at Mariemont, I am told, when M. F. A. L. and
Honor were touching it, the table moved up to a book
in which relics and reminiscences of Raymond had been
pasted, and caused it to be opened. In it, among other
things, was an enlargement of the snapshot facing page
278, showing him in an old 'Nagant' motor, which had
been passed on to him by Alec, stopping outside a certain
house in Somersetshire. He was asked what house it was,
[ 276]
and was expected to spell the name of the friend who lived
there, but instead he spelt the name of the house. The
record by M. F. A. L., with some unimportant omissions,
is here reproduced—merely, however, as another example
of a private sitting without a medium.
Once I got to Mariemont, I was told that when M. F. A. L. and Honor were touching it, the table moved to a book that had been filled with memories and mementos of Raymond and caused it to open. Inside, among other things, was a larger version of the snapshot on page 278, showing him in an old 'Nagant' car that Alec had passed down to him, parked outside a certain house in Somersetshire. When asked what house it was, [ 276] he was expected to spell the name of the friend who lived there, but instead, he spelled out the name of the house. The record by M. F. A. L., with a few minor omissions, is reproduced here—merely as another example of a private sitting without a medium.
Impromptu Table Sitting at Mariemont, Tuesday,
25 April 1916
(Report by M. F. A. L.)
I had been thinking of Raymond all day, and wanting to thank him for what he did yesterday for [a friend]. Honor had agreed that we might do it some time, but when I mentioned it about 10.50 p.m., she did not want to sit then—she thought it too late. We were then in the library.
I had been thinking about Raymond all day and wanted to thank him for what he did yesterday for [a friend]. Honor had agreed that we might do it sometime, but when I brought it up around 10:50 p.m., she didn't want to sit then—she thought it was too late. We were in the library at that moment.
Honor, sitting on the Chesterfield, said, "I wonder if any table would be equally good for Raymond?"—placing her hands on the middle-sized table of the nest of three. It at once began to stir, and she asked me to place mine on the other side to steady it.
Honor, sitting on the sofa, said, "I wonder if any table would work just as well for Raymond?"—putting her hands on the medium-sized table from the set of three. It immediately started to shake, and she asked me to put my hands on the other side to steady it.
I asked if it was Raymond, and it decidedly said Yes.
I asked if it was Raymond, and it clearly said Yes.
I then thanked him with much feeling for what he had done for [two separate families] lately. I told him how much he had comforted them, and how splendidly he was doing; that there were quite a number of people he had helped now. We discussed a few others that needed help.
I then thanked him sincerely for what he had done for [two separate families] recently. I told him how much he had comforted them and how wonderfully he was performing; that there were quite a few people he had helped now. We talked about a few others who needed assistance.
Then I think we asked him if he knew what room we were in—Yes. And after knocking me a good deal, and making a noise which seemed to please him against my eyeglasses, he managed, by laying the table down, to get one foot on to the Chesterfield and raise the table up on it; and there it stayed, and rocked about for a long time answering questions—I thought it would make a hole in the cover.
Then I think we asked him if he knew what room we were in—Yes. After hitting me a lot and making a noise that seemed to satisfy him against my eyeglasses, he somehow managed to lay the table down, get one foot on the Chesterfield, and lift the table up on it; and there it stayed, rocking around for a long time while answering questions—I thought it would rip the cover.
I don't quite remember how it got down, but it did, and then edged itself up to the other larger table, which had been given me by Alec, Noël, and Raymond, after they had broken a basket table I used to use there—it was brought in with a paper, "To Mother from the culprits." [ 277] (This was a year or two ago.) Well, he got it up to this table, and fidgeted about with the foot of the smaller table on which we had our hands, until he rested it on a ledge and tried to raise it up. But the way he did this most successfully was when he got the ledge of our small table onto a corner of the other and then raised it off the ground level. This he did several times. I took one hand off, leaving one hand on the top, and Honor's two hands lying on the top, no part of them being over the edge, and I measured the height the legs were off the ground. The first time it was the width of three fingers, and the next time four fingers.
I don't really remember how it came down, but it did, and then it moved itself over to the larger table that Alec, Noël, and Raymond had given me after they broke the basket table I used to use—it was brought in with a note that said, "To Mother from the culprits." [ 277] (This was a year or two ago.) Anyway, he got it up to this table and kept fidgeting with the foot of the smaller table where we had our hands until he rested it on a ledge and tried to lift it up. But the way he managed to do this most effectively was by getting the ledge of our small table onto a corner of the other one and then lifting it off the ground. He did this several times. I took one hand off, leaving one hand resting on top, and Honor had both her hands on top, with no part of them hanging over the edge, and I measured how high the legs were off the ground. The first time it was the width of three fingers, and the next time four fingers.
Honor told him this was very clever.
Honor told him this was really clever.
I then tried to press it down, but could not—a curious feeling, like pressing on a cushion of air.
I then tried to push it down, but couldn't—a strange feeling, like pushing on a cushion of air.
He had by this time turned us right round, so that Honor was sitting where I had been before, and I was sitting or sometimes standing in her place. Then we were turned round again, and he seemed to want to knock the other table again; he went at it in a curious way. I had with one hand to remove a glass on it which I thought he would upset. He continued to edge against it, until he reached a book lying on it. This he knocked with such intention, that Honor asked him if he wanted it opened.
He had by this time turned us around completely, so that Honor was sitting where I had been before, and I was either sitting or sometimes standing in her spot. Then we were turned again, and he seemed to want to bump the other table again; he approached it in a strange way. I had to remove a glass from it with one hand, thinking he would knock it over. He kept edging against it until he reached a book lying there. He knocked it with such force that Honor asked him if he wanted it opened.
Yes.
Yes.
[This was a scrap-book in which I collect anything about him—photographs, old and new; poems made about him, or sent to me in consolation; and it has his name outside, drawn on in large letters.—M. F. A. L.]
This is a scrapbook where I collect everything about him—photos, both old and new; poems written about him or sent to me for comfort; and it has his name written on the outside in big letters.—M. F. A. L.
So I opened it, and showed him the photograph of himself seated in the 'Nagant.' [A motor-car which Alec had practically given him not long before the war, and with which he was delighted.]
So I opened it and showed him the picture of himself sitting in the 'Nagant.' [A car that Alec had pretty much given him shortly before the war, and he was really happy about it.]
Honor asked if he could see it, and he said Yes, and seemed pleased.
Honor asked if he could see it, and he said Yes, looking pleased.
She asked if he could tell her what house it was standing in front of, and he spelt out—
She asked if he could tell her which house it was in front of, and he spelled out—
ST. GERMINS.
ST. GERMINS.
[This was pretty good, as the name of the Jacques's house is 'St. Germains.']
[This was really nice since Jacques's house is called 'St. Germains.']
(Honor had forgotten the name till he began, and expected him to say Jacques's.)
Honor had forgotten the name until he started talking, and he figured he would say Jacques's.
We told him he had got it, but that his spelling wasn't quite as good as it had been.
We told him he got it, but that his spelling wasn't as good as it used to be.
Honor talked to him then about the 'Nagant' and the 'Gabrielle Horn,' all of which seemed to delight him.
Honor talked to him then about the 'Nagant' and the 'Gabrielle Horn,' and he seemed really pleased by it.
We then showed him some other photographs, and the one of his dog, and asked him to spell its name, which he did without mistake—
We then showed him some other pictures, including the one of his dog, and asked him to spell its name, which he did perfectly—
LARRY.
LARRY.
He couldn't see the little photograph of the goats, as it was too small. But he saw himself in uniform—the one taken by Rosalynde and enlarged—and he seemed to like seeing that.
He couldn't see the tiny photo of the goats because it was too small. But he could see himself in uniform—the one taken by Rosalynde and enlarged—and he seemed to enjoy looking at that.
We talked a lot to him. I asked if he remembered his journey with me out to Italy, and the Pullman car, etc. At this he knocked very affectionately against me.
We talked to him a lot. I asked if he remembered his trip with me to Italy and the Pullman car, etc. At this, he affectionately nudged me.
We then thought it was time for us all to go to bed. But he said No. So we went on telling him family news. He listened with interest and appreciative knocks, and he then tried his balancing trick again, sometimes with success, but often failing to get the leg right. But he did it again in the end. We tried to say good night, it being then nearly one o'clock, but he didn't seem to want to go.
We then thought it was time for all of us to head to bed. But he said No. So we kept sharing family news with him. He listened with interest and gave some appreciative nods, and then he tried his balancing trick again, sometimes succeeding, but often struggling to get his leg right. But in the end, he managed it. We tried to say goodnight since it was almost one o'clock, but he didn’t seem to want to leave.
We said au revoir, and told him we would see him
again soon.
We said goodbye and told him we would see him again soon.
III. EPISODE OF 'MR. JACKSON'
A striking incident is reported in one of my 'Feda' sittings—that on 3 March 1916—shortly after the death of our peacock, which went by the comic name of 'Mr. Jackson,' his wives being Matilda Jackson and Janet. He was a pet of M. F. A. L.'s, and had recently met with a tragic end. It was decided to have him stuffed, and one of the last things I had seen before leaving Mariemont was a wooden pedestal on which it was proposed to put him.
A notable event was shared during one of my 'Feda' meetings—on March 3, 1916—shortly after the passing of our peacock, humorously named 'Mr. Jackson,' with his wives being Matilda Jackson and Janet. He was a pet of M. F. A. L.'s and had recently faced a tragic fate. It was decided to have him preserved, and one of the last things I saw before leaving Mariemont was a wooden pedestal on which it was planned to display him.
When I asked Feda if Raymond remembered Mr. Jackson, he spoke of him humorously, greatly to Feda's puzzlement, who said at last that he was mixing him up with a bird, about whom I had previously inquired; because he said, 'Fine bird, put him on a pedestal.'
When I asked Feda if Raymond remembered Mr. Jackson, he talked about him in a funny way, which really confused Feda. Eventually, he said he was getting him mixed up with a bird I had asked about earlier, because he commented, 'Great bird, put him on a pedestal.'
If this was not telepathy from me, it seems to show a curious knowledge of what is going on at his home, for the bird had not been dead a week, and if he were alive there would be no sense in saying, 'put him on a pedestal.' Feda evidently understood it, or tried to understand it, as meaning that some man, a Mr. Jackson, was metaphorically put on a pedestal by the family.
If this wasn’t telepathy from me, it seems to show a strange awareness of what’s happening at his home, since the bird had only been dead for a week, and if it were alive, there would be no point in saying, ‘put him on a pedestal.’ Feda clearly got it, or tried to make sense of it, as meaning that some guy, Mr. Jackson, was metaphorically put on a pedestal by the family.
The fact, however, that Mr. Jackson was at once known
by Raymond to be a bird is itself evidential, for there was
nothing in the way I asked the question to make Feda or
anyone think he was not a man. Indeed, that is precisely
why she got rather bewildered. See Chapter XXI.
The fact that Mr. Jackson was recognized as a bird by Raymond is evidence in itself, because nothing about how I asked the question would make Feda or anyone else think he wasn't a man. In fact, that's exactly why she became a bit confused. See Chapter XXI.
IV. EPISODE OF THE PHOTOGRAPHS
It is unnecessary to call attention to the importance of the photograph incident, which is fully narrated in Chapter IV; but he spoke later of another photograph, in which he said was included his friend Case. It is mentioned near the end of Chapter IV. That photograph we also obtained from Gale & Polden, and it is true that Case is in it as well as Raymond, whereas he was not in the former group; but this one is entirely different from the other, for they are both in a back row standing up, and in a quite open place. If this had been sent to us at first, instead of the right one, we should have considered the description quite wrong. As it is, the main photograph episode constitutes one of the best pieces of evidence that has been given.
It’s not necessary to highlight the importance of the photograph incident, which is fully described in Chapter IV. However, he later mentioned another photograph, which he said included his friend Case. This is mentioned near the end of Chapter IV. We also got that photograph from Gale & Polden, and it’s true that Case is in it alongside Raymond, while he wasn’t in the earlier group. But this one is completely different from the other; they are both standing in the back row in a fairly open space. If this had been sent to us first instead of the correct one, we would have thought the description was completely inaccurate. As it stands, the main photograph incident is one of the strongest pieces of evidence presented.
Comments by O. J. L. in wrapping up Part II
The number of more or less convincing proofs which we have obtained is by this time very great. Some of them appeal more to one person, some to another; but taking them all together every possible ground of suspicion or doubt seems to the family to be now removed. And it is legitimate to say, further, that partly through Raymond's activity a certain amount of help of the same kind has been afforded to other families. Incidentally it has been difficult [ 280] to avoid brief reference to a few early instances of this, in that part of the record now published. For the most part, however, these and a great number of other things are omitted; and I ought perhaps to apologise for the quantity which I have thought proper to include. Some home critics think that it would have been wiser to omit a great deal more, so as to lighten the book. But one can only act in accordance with one's own judgment; and the book, if it is to achieve what it aims at, cannot be a light one. So, instead of ending it here, I propose to add a quantity of more didactic material—expressing my own views on the subject of Life and Death—the result of many years of thought and many kinds of experience.
The number of convincing proofs we've gathered is now quite large. Some resonate more with one person than another, but overall, every possible reason for suspicion or doubt seems to be resolved for the family. It’s also fair to say that, thanks to Raymond's efforts, a similar type of support has been provided to other families. It’s been challenging to avoid briefly mentioning a few early examples of this in the part of the record that’s now published. However, for the most part, these and a lot of other details are left out, and I might need to apologize for the amount I’ve chosen to include. Some critics at home believe I should have left out much more to make the book lighter. But one can only proceed based on their own judgment; and for the book to achieve its goals, it can't be too light. So, instead of concluding here, I plan to add a lot more educational material—sharing my personal views on Life and Death, based on many years of reflection and various experiences.
Some people may prefer the details in Part II; but others who have not the patience to read Part II may tolerate the more general considerations adduced in Part III—the "Life and Death" portion—which can be read without any reference to Raymond or to Parts I and II.
Some people might prefer the specifics in Part II; however, others who lack the patience to read Part II may find the broader points made in Part III—the "Life and Death" section—acceptable, as it can be read without any connection to Raymond or to Parts I and II.
Footnotes
Footnotes
[29] It is noteworthy, in connexion with these remarks, that Honor and Alec were sitting for a short time at Mariemont just about now.—O.J. L.
[30] This is the first mention of a Ralph—presumably the one whose people, not known to us personally, had had excellent table sittings with Mrs. Leonard. See Chapter XII.—O. J. L.
[31] This is too late to be of any use, but 'Yacht' appears to be the sort of answer they had wanted to 'Argonauts.'
—O. J. L.
PART THREE: LIFE AND DEATH
"Eternal form shall still divide
"Eternal form will still divide"
The eternal soul from all beside;
The everlasting soul from everything else;
And I shall know him when we meet."
And I'll recognize him when we meet."
Tennyson, In Memoriam.
Tennyson, *In Memoriam*.
INTRODUCTION
IN this "Life and Death" portion a definite side is unobtrusively taken in connexion with two outstanding controversies; and though the treatment is purposely simple and uncontroversial, the author is under no delusion that every philosophical reader will agree with him. Explicit argumentation on either side is no novelty, but this is not the place for argument; moreover, the opposing views have already been presented with ample clearness by skilled disputants.
IN this "Life and Death" section, a clear stance is subtly taken in relation to two major debates; and while the approach is intentionally straightforward and non-controversial, the author is fully aware that not every philosophical reader will share his views. Detailed arguments on either side are not new, but this isn't the time for debate; also, the opposing perspectives have already been clearly articulated by knowledgeable debaters.
Briefly then it may be said that Interactionism rather than Epiphenomenalism or Parallelism is the side taken in one controversy. And the non-material nature of life—the real existence of some kind of vital essence or vivifying principle as a controlling and guiding entity—is postulated in another: though the author never calls it a force or an energy.
Briefly, it can be said that Interactionism, instead of Epiphenomenalism or Parallelism, is the position taken in one debate. In another debate, the non-material nature of life—the real existence of some form of vital essence or life-giving principle as a controlling and guiding entity—is suggested; however, the author never refers to it as a force or energy.
Philosophical literature teems with these topics, but it may suffice here to call the attention of the general reader to two or three easily readable summaries—one an explanatory article by Mr. Gerald Balfour, in The Hibbert Journal for April 1910, on the Epiphenomenon controversy, and generally on the alternative explanations of the connexion between Mind and Body, in the light thrown on the subject by Telepathy and Psychical Research; while on the vitality controversy a small book embodying a short course of lectures by the physiologist and philosopher Dr. J. S. Haldane under the title Mechanism, Life, and Personality, or a larger book by Professor M'Dougal called Body and Mind, may be recommended. On this subject also the writings of Professor J. Arthur Thomson may be specially mentioned.
Philosophical literature is full of these topics, but it might be enough here to point out a couple of easily digestible summaries for the general reader—one being an explanatory article by Mr. Gerald Balfour in The Hibbert Journal for April 1910, discussing the Epiphenomenon controversy and the different views on the relationship between Mind and Body, informed by Telepathy and Psychical Research; and regarding the vitality debate, a short book consisting of a series of lectures by the physiologist and philosopher Dr. J. S. Haldane titled Mechanism, Life, and Personality, or a more comprehensive book by Professor M'Dougal called Body and Mind, can be recommended. The writings of Professor J. Arthur Thomson should also be specifically noted on this topic.
The opinions of the present author on these topics, whatever they may be worth, are held without apology or hesitation, because to him they appear the inevitable [ 284] consequence of facts of nature as now known or knowable. Some of these facts are not generally accepted by scientific men; and if the facts themselves are not admitted, naturally any conclusion based upon them will appear ill-founded, and the further developed structure illusory. He anticipates that this will be said by critics.
The author's views on these topics, no matter their value, are expressed without apology or hesitation because they seem to him to be the unavoidable result of the facts of nature as we currently understand them. Some of these facts aren't widely accepted by scientists; if the facts themselves are not acknowledged, then any conclusions drawn from them will understandably seem unsound, and the more developed ideas will seem misleading. He expects that critics will say this.
In so far as the author's manner of statement is in terms of frank Dualism, he regards that as inevitable for scientific purposes. He does not suppose that any form of Dualism can be the last word about the Universe; but, for practical purposes, mind and matter, or soul and body, must be thought of separately, and it must be the work of higher Philosophy to detect ultimate unity—a unity which he feels certain cannot possibly be materialistic in any sense intelligible to those who are at present studying matter and energy.
As far as the author's way of expressing things involves straightforward Dualism, he sees this as necessary for scientific reasons. He doesn't think that any version of Dualism can provide the final answer about the Universe; however, for practical reasons, mind and matter, or soul and body, need to be considered separately. It should be the task of advanced Philosophy to uncover ultimate unity—a unity that he is convinced cannot be understood as materialistic in any way that makes sense to those currently studying matter and energy.
It may be doubted whether Materialism as a philosophy exists any longer, in the sense of being sustained by serious philosophers; but a few physiological writers, of skill and industry, continue to advocate what they are pleased to call Scientific Materialism. Properly regarded this is a Policy, not a Philosophy, as I will explain; but they make the mistake of regarding it as a Philosophy comprehensive enough to give them the right of negation as well as of affirmation. They do this in the interest of what they feel instinctively to be the ultimate achievement, a Monism in which mind and matter can be recognised as aspects of some one fundamental Reality. We can sympathise with the aim, and still feel how far from accomplishment we are. Nothing is gained by undue haste, and by unfounded negation much may be lost. We must not deny any part of the Universe for the sake of a premature unification. Simplification by exclusion or denial is a poverty-stricken device.
It might be questionable whether Materialism as a philosophy is still relevant today, especially in the eyes of serious philosophers; however, some dedicated and skilled physiological writers continue to promote what they refer to as Scientific Materialism. In reality, this is more of a Policy than a Philosophy, as I will explain; but they mistakenly view it as a Philosophy broad enough to justify both negation and affirmation. They do this in the name of what they instinctively recognize as the ultimate goal, a Monism where mind and matter can be seen as two sides of the same fundamental Reality. We can appreciate this goal, while also acknowledging how far we still have to go. Rushing things or hastily rejecting ideas may lead to losses. We shouldn’t dismiss any part of the Universe for the sake of an early unity. Simplifying through exclusion or denial is a lean and inadequate approach.
The strength of such workers is that they base themselves on the experience and discoveries of the past, and, by artificial but convenient limitation of outlook, achieve practical results. But they are not satisfied with results actually achieved—they forget their limitations—and, by a gigantic system of extrapolation from what has been done, try to infer what is going to be done; their device being to anticipate and speak of what they hope for, as [ 285] if it were already an accomplished fact. Some of the assumptions or blind guesses made by men of this school are well illustrated by an exposition in The Hibbert Journal for July 1916, where an able writer states the main propositions of Scientific Materialism thus:—
The strength of these workers lies in their reliance on the experiences and discoveries of the past. By artificially narrowing their focus, they manage to achieve practical outcomes. However, they aren’t satisfied with what they’ve accomplished; they overlook their limitations and, through a massive system of extrapolation from past results, attempt to predict future actions. Their approach is to anticipate and discuss what they hope will happen as if it’s already a reality. Some of the assumptions or blind guesses made by this group are well illustrated by an article in The Hibbert Journal from July 1916, where a skilled writer outlines the main points of Scientific Materialism as follows:—
1. The law of universal causation;
1. The law of universal causation;
2. The principle of mechanism—i.e. the denial of purpose in the universe and all notions of absolute finalism or teleology;
2. The principle of mechanism—i.e. the rejection of purpose in the universe and any ideas of absolute finality or teleology;
3. The denial that there exists any form of 'spiritual'
or 'mental' entity that cannot be expressed in terms of matter and
motion.
3. The rejection of the idea that there is any kind of 'spiritual' or 'mental' entity that can't be explained in terms of matter and
movement.
These appear to be its three propositions, and they are formulated by the exponent "as being of the first importance in the representation of materialistic thought."
These seem to be its three main points, and they are stated by the author "as being of the utmost importance in representing materialistic thought."
Now proposition 1 is common property; materialistic thought has no sort of exclusive right over it; and to claim propositions 2 and 3 as corollaries from it is farcical. Taking them as independent postulates—which they are—all that need be said about proposition 2 is that a broad denial always needs more knowledge than a specific assertion, and it is astonishing that any sane person can imagine himself to know enough about the Universe as a whole to be able complacently to deny the existence of any "purpose" in it. All he can really mean is that scientific explanations must be framed so as to exhibit the immediate means whereby results in nature are accomplished; for whether, or in what sense, they are first or simultaneously conceived in a Mind—as human undertakings are—is a matter beyond our scientific ken. Thus Darwinian and Mendelian attempts to explain how species arise, and how inheritance occurs, are entirely legitimate and scientific. For our experience is that every event has a proximate cause which we can investigate. Of ultimate causes we as scientific men are ignorant: they belong to a different region of inquiry. If the word "denial," therefore, in the above proposition is replaced by the phrase "exclusion from practical scientific attention," I for one have no quarrel with clause 2; for it then becomes a mere self-denying ordinance, a convenient limitation of scope. It represents Policy, not Philosophy.
Now proposition 1 is common knowledge; materialistic thinking doesn't have exclusive rights over it; and claiming propositions 2 and 3 as offshoots from it is ridiculous. Treating them as separate starting points—which they are—what needs to be said about proposition 2 is that a broad denial always requires more knowledge than a specific assertion, and it's astonishing that any rational person can think they know enough about the Universe as a whole to confidently deny the existence of any "purpose" in it. All they can really mean is that scientific explanations must be designed to show the immediate means by which results in nature are achieved; whether, or how, these are initially or simultaneously conceived in a Mind—as human actions are—is something that goes beyond our scientific understanding. Thus, Darwinian and Mendelian efforts to explain how species emerge and how inheritance happens are completely valid and scientific. For our experience shows that every event has a nearby cause that we can examine. We, as scientists, are unaware of ultimate causes: they belong to a different area of inquiry. Therefore, if the word "denial" in the above proposition is swapped with the phrase "exclusion from practical scientific attention," I personally have no issue with clause 2; it then becomes just a self-limiting rule, a convenient boundary of focus. It represents Policy, not Philosophy.
But attention may be more usefully directed to the extravagantly gratuitous guess involved in hypothesis 3. As a minor point, it is not even carefully worded; for entities which cannot be expressed in terms of matter and motion are common enough without going outside the domain of physics. Light, for instance, and Electricity, have not yet proved amenable, and do not appear likely to be amenable, to purely dynamical theory.
But it's better to focus on the wildly unnecessary assumption in hypothesis 3. As a side note, it's not even phrased carefully; entities that can’t be described in terms of matter and motion are actually quite common without leaving the realm of physics. Light and electricity, for example, have not yet proven to fit into a purely dynamical theory and don’t seem likely to do so.
Certain phenomena have been reduced to matter and motion,—heat, for instance, and sound, the phenomena of gases and liquids, and all the complexities of astronomy. And in a famous passage Newton expressed an enthusiastic hope that all the phenomena of physics might some day be similarly reduced to the attractive simplicity of the three laws of motion—inertia, acceleration, and stress. And ever since Newton it has been the aim of physics to explain everything in its domain in terms of pure dynamics. The attempt has been only partially successful: the Ether is recalcitrant. But its recalcitrance is not like mere surly obstruction, it is of a helpful and illuminating character, and I shall not be misleading anyone if I cheerfully admit that in some modified and expanded form dynamical theory in mathematical physics has proved itself to be supreme.
Certain phenomena have been simplified to just matter and motion—like heat and sound, the behaviors of gases and liquids, and all the complexities of astronomy. In a well-known quote, Newton expressed an excited hope that one day, all physics phenomena could be reduced to the straightforward simplicity of the three laws of motion: inertia, acceleration, and force. Since Newton, the goal of physics has been to explain everything in its field in terms of pure dynamics. This effort has only been partially successful; the Ether remains stubborn. However, its resistance is not just a simple hindrance; it is actually insightful and enlightening. I won't mislead anyone by saying that, in some modified and expanded way, dynamics in mathematical physics has proven to be the leading theory.
But does dominance of that kind give to that splendid science—the glory of Britain and of Cambridge—the right to make a gigantic extrapolation and sprawl over all the rest of the Universe, throwing out tentacles even into regions which it has definitely abstracted from its attention or excluded from its ken? There is not a physicist who thinks so. The only people who try to think so are a few enthusiasts of a more speculative habit of thought, who are annoyed with the physicists, from Lord Kelvin downwards, for not agreeing with them. And being unable to gather from competent authority any specific instance in which dynamics has explained a single fact in the region of either life or mind or consciousness or emotion or purpose or will,—because it is known perfectly well that dynamical jurisdiction does not extend into those regions,—these speculators set up as authorities on their own account, and, on the strength of their own expectation, propound the broad and sweeping dogma [ 287] that nothing in the Universe exists which is not fully expressible in terms of matter and motion. And then, having accustomed themselves to the sound of some such collocation of words, they call upon humanity to shut its eyes to any facts of common experience which render such an assertion ridiculous.
But does that kind of dominance give that amazing science—the pride of Britain and Cambridge—the right to make a huge leap and stretch over the entire Universe, reaching even into areas it has clearly ignored or left out of its focus? There's not a single physicist who believes that. The only ones who attempt to believe it are a few enthusiasts with a more speculative mindset, who are frustrated with physicists, from Lord Kelvin onward, for not agreeing with them. And since they can't find any credible evidence that dynamics has explained even one fact in the realms of life, mind, consciousness, emotion, purpose, or will—because it's well understood that dynamical law doesn't cover those areas—these speculators position themselves as authorities and, based on their own hopes, propose the sweeping claim that nothing in the Universe exists that can't be fully expressed in terms of matter and motion. Then, having gotten used to the sound of such phrases, they urge humanity to ignore any common experiences that make such a claim ridiculous.
The energy and enthusiasm of these writers, and the
good work they may be doing in their own science, render
them more or less immune from attack; but every now
and then it is necessary to say clearly that such extravagant
generalisations profane the modesty of science:
whose heritage it is to recognise the limitations of partial
knowledge, and to be always ready to gain fresh experience
and learn about the unknown. The new and unfamiliar
is the vantage ground, not of scientific dogmatism,
but of scientific inquiry.
The energy and enthusiasm of these writers, along with the good work they might be doing in their own fields, make them pretty much immune to criticism; however, it’s important to clearly state that such exaggerated generalizations undermine the humility of science, which is meant to recognize the limits of partial knowledge and always be open to gaining new experiences and learning about the unknown. The new and unfamiliar is the foundation not of scientific dogmatism, but of scientific inquiry.
The expository or theoretical part of this book may at first appear too abstract for the general reader who has had no experience of the kind of facts already described. Such reader may fail to see a connexion between this more didactic portion and the illustrations or examples which have preceded it; but if he will give sufficient time and thought to the subject, the connexion will dawn upon him with considerable vividness.
The theoretical part of this book might seem too abstract for an average reader who's not familiar with the kinds of facts we've already discussed. That reader might struggle to see the link between this more instructional section and the examples we've given earlier. However, if they spend enough time and thought on the topic, the connection will become clear to them.
It has always seemed to the author legitimate, and in every way desirable, for an experimenter to interpret and make himself responsible for an explanation or theory of his observations, so far as he can. To record bare facts and expect a reader of the record to arrive at the same conclusion as that reached by one who has been immersed in them for a long time, is to expect too strenuous an effort, and is not a fair procedure. Such a practice, though not unusual and sometimes even commended in physical science, is not followed by the most famous workers; and it has been known to retard progress for a considerable time by loading the student with an accumulation of undigested facts. The hypothesis on which an observer has been working, or which he has arrived at in the course of his investigations, may or may not be of permanent value, but if his experience has led him to regard it as the best solution so far attainable, and if he is [ 288] known not to be a specially obstinate or self-opinionated person, his views for what they are worth should be set forth for the guidance of future inquirers. If he mauls the facts in his direction, he will be detected; but such an accusation is a serious one, and should not be made lightly or without opportunity for reply.
It has always seemed to the author reasonable and entirely appropriate for someone conducting an experiment to interpret and take responsibility for explaining their observations as much as they can. Just stating raw facts and expecting a reader to reach the same conclusion as someone who has thoroughly studied them for a long time is asking for too much effort and isn't a fair approach. This practice, while not uncommon and sometimes even praised in physical science, is not adopted by the most renowned researchers; it has been known to hinder progress significantly by burdening students with an overload of unprocessed information. The hypothesis that an observer has been working with, or has developed during their inquiries, might or might not have lasting importance, but if their experience leads them to see it as the best solution available so far, and if they are known not to be overly stubborn or arrogant, then their views, for what they are worth, should be shared to help future researchers. If they manipulate the facts to fit their viewpoint, they will be found out; however, such an accusation is serious and shouldn't be made lightly or without giving them a chance to respond.
The string on which beads are strung may not be extremely durable, and in time it may give place to something stronger, but it is better than a random heap of beads not threaded on anything at all.
The string that holds the beads might not be very durable, and over time it could be replaced by something stronger, but it's definitely better than a random pile of beads that aren't strung together at all.
The main thread linking all the facts together in the present case is the hypothesis not only of continued or personal psychical existence in the abstract, but a definite inter-locking or inter-communication between two grades of existence,—the two in which we are most immediately interested and about which we can ascertain most,—that of the present and that of the immediate future for each individual; together with the added probabilities that the actual grades of existence are far more than two, and that the forthcoming transition, in which we cannot but be interested even if we do not believe in it, is only one of many of which we shall, in some barely imaginable way, in due time become aware.
The main connection tying all the facts together in this case is the idea not just of ongoing or personal existence in a general sense, but a clear interaction between two levels of existence—those we are most interested in and can learn the most about: the present and the immediate future for each person. Additionally, there's a strong likelihood that there are actually more than two levels of existence, and that the upcoming transition, which we can't help but be curious about even if we don't believe in it, is just one of many we will, in some way we can't quite picture, eventually come to understand.
The hypothesis of continued existence in another set of conditions, and of possible communication across a boundary, is not a gratuitous one made for the sake of comfort and consolation, or because of a dislike to the idea of extinction; it is a hypothesis which has been gradually forced upon the author—as upon many other persons—by the stringent coercion of definite experience. The foundation of the atomic theory in Chemistry is to him no stronger. The evidence is cumulative, and has broken the back of all legitimate and reasonable scepticism.
The idea that existence can continue in different circumstances and that communication might be possible across a boundary isn’t just a comforting thought or an escape from the idea of extinction; it’s a conclusion that the author, like many others, has come to realize due to the demanding pressure of concrete experiences. To him, the basis of the atomic theory in Chemistry is no more solid. The evidence keeps piling up and has dismantled all valid and reasonable doubt.
And if by selecting the atomic theory as an example he has chosen one upon which supplementary and most interesting facts have been grafted in the progress of discovery—facts not really contradicting the old knowledge, even when superficially appearing to do so, but adding to it and illuminating it further, while making changes perhaps in its manner of formulation—he has chosen such an example of set purpose, as not unlikely to be imitated in the present case also.
And if by choosing atomic theory as an example he has picked one that has had additional and fascinating facts added to it over time—facts that don’t actually contradict the old knowledge, even if they might seem to on the surface, but instead enhance and clarify it while possibly changing how it’s expressed—he has selected an example with clear intention that is likely to be followed in this case too.
CHAPTER 1
THE MEANING OF THE TERM LIFE
"Eternal process moving on."—Tennyson
"Endless journey continues."—Tennyson
THE shorter the word the more inevitable it is that it will be used in many significations; as can be proved by looking out almost any monosyllable in a large dictionary. The tendency of a simple word to have many glancing meanings—like shot silk, as Tennyson put it—is a character of high literary value; though it may be occasionally inconvenient for scientific purposes. It is unlikely that we can escape an ambiguity due to this tendency, but I wish to use the term 'life' to signify the vivifying principle which animates matter.
THE shorter the word, the more likely it is that it will be used in many different ways; you can see this by checking almost any one-syllable word in a large dictionary. The tendency of a simple word to have multiple nuanced meanings—like the way shot silk looks, as Tennyson described it—holds significant literary value, even though it can sometimes be a hassle for scientific purposes. While we probably can’t avoid ambiguity caused by this tendency, I want to use the term 'life' to mean the vital principle that brings matter to life.
That the behaviour of animated matter differs from what is often called dead matter is familiar, and is illustrated by the description sometimes given of an uncanny piece of mechanism—that "it behaves as if it were alive." In the case of a jumping bean, for instance, its spasmodic and capricious behaviour can be explained with apparent simplicity, though with a suspicious trend towards superstition, by the information that a live and active maggot inhabits a cavity inside. It is thereby removed from the bare category of physics only, though still perfectly obedient to physical laws: it jumps in accordance with mechanics, but neither the times nor the direction of its jumps can be predicted.[32]
The way animated matter behaves is different from what we often call dead matter, which is well known. This is illustrated by how some might describe an eerie piece of machinery as "it acts as if it were alive." Take a jumping bean, for example; its erratic and unpredictable movements can be easily explained, but there’s a tendency to lean towards superstition, since a live and active maggot lives inside it. This sets it apart from being just a physical object, even though it still follows physical laws: it jumps according to mechanics, but neither the timing nor the direction of its jumps can be anticipated.[32]
We must admit that the term 'dead matter' is often misapplied. It is used sometimes to denote merely the constituents of the general inorganic world. But it is inconvenient to speak of utterly inanimate things, like stones, as 'dead,' when no idea of life was ever associated with them, and when 'inorganic' is all that is meant. The term 'dead' applied to a piece of matter signifies [ 290] the absence of a vivifying principle, no doubt, but it is most properly applied to a collocation of organic matter which has been animated.
We have to acknowledge that the term 'dead matter' is often used incorrectly. Sometimes, it's merely referring to the elements of the inorganic world. However, it's not really accurate to refer to completely lifeless things, like stones, as 'dead,' since there's no concept of life associated with them and 'inorganic' is all that is intended. The term 'dead' when applied to a piece of matter means [ 290] the lack of a life-giving principle, for sure, but it's most appropriately used for a collection of organic matter that was once alive.
Again, when animation has ceased, the thing we properly call dead is not the complete organism, but that material portion which is left behind; we do not or should not intend to make any assertion concerning the vivifying principle which has left it,—beyond the bare fact of its departure. We know too little about that principle to be able to make safe general assertions. The life that is transmitted by an acorn or other seed fruit is always beyond our ken. We can but study its effects, and note its presence or its absence by results.
Again, when movement stops, what we actually call dead is not the entire organism, but the physical part that remains. We don’t, and shouldn’t, claim anything about the life force that has left it—other than the simple fact that it’s gone. We understand too little about that life force to make reliable general statements. The life that comes from an acorn or any other seed is always beyond our understanding. All we can do is observe its effects and recognize its presence or absence through the results.
Life must be considered sui generis; it is not a form of energy, nor can it be expressed in terms of something else. Electricity is in the same predicament; it too cannot be explained in terms of something else. This is true of all fundamental forms of being. Magnetism may be called a concomitant of moving electricity; ordinary matter can perhaps be resolved into electric charges: but an electric charge can certainly not be expressed in terms of either matter or energy. No more can life. To show that the living principle in a seed is not one of the forms of energy, it is sufficient to remember that that seed can give rise to innumerable descendants, through countless generations, without limit. There is nothing like a constant quantity of something to be shared, as there is in all examples of energy: there is no conservation about it: the seed embodies a stimulating and organising principle which appears to well from a limitless source.
Life must be seen as sui generis; it’s not just a form of energy, nor can it be defined in terms of something else. Electricity faces the same issue; it also cannot be explained through another concept. This holds true for all fundamental forms of existence. Magnetism might be described as one of the effects of moving electricity; ordinary matter could possibly be broken down into electric charges. However, an electric charge definitely cannot be defined by either matter or energy. The same is true for life. To demonstrate that the vital principle in a seed isn’t just one of the energy forms, it’s enough to recognize that this seed can produce countless descendants over endless generations, without limits. There’s nothing like a fixed amount of something to share, as there is in all energy examples; there's no conservation aspect. The seed contains a stimulating and organizing principle that seems to emerge from an infinite source.
But although life is not energy, any more than it is matter, yet it directs energy and thereby controls arrangements of matter. Through the agency of life specific structures are composed which would not otherwise exist, from a sea-shell to a cathedral, from a blade of grass to an oak; and specific distributions of energy are caused, from the luminosity of a firefly to an electric arc, from the song of a cricket to an oratorio.
But even though life isn't energy any more than it's matter, it still directs energy and controls the arrangement of matter. Through the influence of life, certain structures are created that wouldn't exist otherwise, from a seashell to a cathedral, from a blade of grass to an oak tree; and specific distributions of energy occur, from the glow of a firefly to an electric arc, from the song of a cricket to an oratorio.
Life makes use of any automatic activities, or transferences and declensions of energy, which are either potentially or actually occurring. In especial it makes use of the torrent of ether tremors which reach the earth [ 291] from the sun. Every plant is doing it constantly. Admittedly life exerts no force, it does no work, but it makes effective the energy available for an organism which it controls and vivifies; it determines in what direction and when work shall be done. It is plain matter of fact that it does this, whether we understand the method or not,—and thus indirectly life interacts with and influences the material world. The energy of coal is indirectly wholly solar, but without human interference it might remain buried in the earth, and certainly would never propel a ship across the Atlantic. One way of putting the matter is to say that life times, and directs. If it runs a railway train, it runs the train not like a locomotive but like a General Manager. It enters into battle with a walking-stick, but guns are fired to its orders. It may be said to aim and fire: one of its functions is to discriminate between the wholesome and the deleterious, between friend and foe. That is a function outside the scope of physics.
Life utilizes any automatic activities or transfers and shifts of energy that are happening, either potentially or actually. In particular, it takes advantage of the flow of ether vibrations that reach the earth from the sun. Every plant is constantly doing this. While it's true that life exerts no force and does no work, it effectively harnesses the energy available for an organism that it controls and energizes; it determines the direction and timing of when work should be done. It’s a simple fact that it does this, whether we understand the method or not—and through this, life interacts with and influences the material world. The energy in coal is indirectly completely solar, but without human intervention, it could remain buried in the earth and would certainly never propel a ship across the Atlantic. One way to think about it is to say that life times and directs. If it operates a train, it doesn’t run the train like a locomotive but like a General Manager. It enters battle with a walking stick, but guns are fired at its command. It could be said to aim and fire: one of its functions is to distinguish between what is good and harmful, between ally and enemy. That function goes beyond the realm of physics.
Energy controlled by life is not random energy: the
kind of self-composition or personal structure built by it
depends on the kind of life-unit which is operating, not on
the pabulum which is supplied. The same food will serve to
build a pig, a chicken, or a man. Food which is assimilable
at all takes a shape determined by the nature of the operative
organism, and indeed by the portion of the organism
actually reached by it. Unconscious constructive ability
is as active in each cell of the body as in a honeycomb;
only in a beehive we can see the operators at work.
The construction of an eye or an ear is still more astonishing.
In the inorganic world such structures would be
meaningless, for there would be nothing to respond to
their stimulus; they can only serve elementary mind and
consciousness. The brain and nerve system is an instrument
of transmutation or translation from the physical to
the mental, and vice versa.
Energy controlled by life isn't random energy: the way it forms or structures itself depends on the type of life-unit that's operating, not on the nutrients provided. The same food can build a pig, a chicken, or a human. Any food that can be used takes on a shape determined by the nature of the living organism using it, and actually by the part of the organism that it reaches. Unconscious ability to build is just as active in each cell of the body as in a honeycomb; the difference is that in a beehive, we can see the workers at work. The process of constructing an eye or an ear is even more amazing. In the non-living world, such structures would have no meaning, as there would be nothing to respond to their stimulation; they can only serve basic mind and consciousness. The brain and nervous system act as tools for changing or translating from the physical to the mental, and vice versa.
Stages of Evolution
Steps in the progress of evolution—great stages which have been likened by Sir James Crichton Browne to [ 292] exceptional Mendelian Mutations—may be rather imaginatively rehearsed somewhat thus:—
Steps in the evolution process—major phases which Sir James Crichton Browne has compared to [ 292] exceptional Mendelian Mutations—can be described in a somewhat creative way like this:—
Starting with
Starting with
The uniform Ether of Space, we can first suppose
The uniform Ether of Space, we can first suppose
The specialisation or organisation of specks of ether into Electrons; followed by
The specialization or organization of particles of ether into electrons; followed by
Associated systems of electrons, constituting atoms of Matter; and so
Associated systems of electrons that make up atoms of matter; and so
The whole inorganic Universe.
The entire inorganic universe.
Then, as a new and astonishing departure, comes—
Then, as a new and surprising change, comes—
And after that
And then
A brain cell, which can become the physical organ for the rudiments of Mind. Followed by
A brain cell, which can develop into the physical structure for the basics of Mind. Followed by
Further mental development until Consciousness becomes possible. With subsequent
Further mental development continues until Consciousness becomes possible. With subsequent
Sublimation of consciousness into Ethics, Philosophy, and Religion.
Sublimation of awareness into Ethics, Philosophy, and Religion.
We need not insist on these or any other stages for our
present purpose; yet something of the kind would seem
to have occurred, in the mysterious course of time.
We don't need to emphasize these or any other stages for our current purpose; however, it seems that something like this has happened over the mysterious passage of time.
THREE EXPLANATORY NOTES
Note A.—How Jumping Beans Work
The biological explanation of a jumping bean is sometimes felt to be puzzling, inasmuch as the creature is wholly enclosed; and a man in a boat knows that he cannot propel it by movement inside, without touching the water or something external. But the reaction of a table can be made use of through the envelope, and a live thing can momentarily vary its own weight-pressure and even reverse its sign. This fact has a bearing on some psycho-physical experiments, and hence is worthy of a moment's attention.
The biological explanation of a jumping bean can be confusing because the creature is completely enclosed. Just like a person in a boat knows they can’t move it just by shifting around inside without making contact with the water or something outside. However, the way a table reacts can be influenced through its outer shell, and a living thing can temporarily change its own weight pressure and even switch it to the opposite. This point is relevant to some psycho-physical experiments, so it deserves a moment’s consideration.
To weigh an animal that jumps and will not keep still is
always troublesome. It cannot alter its average weight, truly,
but it can redistribute it in time; at moments its apparent weight
may be excessive, and at other moments zero or even negative,
as during the middle of an energetic leap. Parenthetically we
may here interpolate a remark and say that what is called interference
of light (two lights producing darkness, in popular language)
is a redistribution of luminous energy in space. No light,
nor any kind of wave motion, is destroyed by interference when
two sets of waves overlap, but the energy rises to a maximum
in some places, and in other places sinks to zero. No wave energy
is consumed by interference—only rearranged. This fact is often
misstated. And probably the other statement, about the varying
apparent weight—i.e. pressure on the ground—of a live animal,
may be misstated too: though there is no question of energy
about that, but only of force. The force or true weight, in the
sense of the earth's attraction, is there all the time, and is constant;
but the pressure on the ground, or the force needed to counteract
the weight, is not constant. After momentary violence, as in
throwing, no support need be supplied for several seconds; and,
like the maggot inside a hollow bean, a live thing turning itself
into a projectile may even carry something else up too. It
is instructive also to consider a flying bird, and a dirigible balloon,
and to ask where the still existing weight of these things can be
found.
Weighing an animal that jumps and won’t stay still is always a hassle. It can’t change its average weight, but it can shift it over time; at times, its apparent weight may seem too high, and at other times, zero or even negative when it's mid-leap. Just to add a quick note, what we refer to as light interference (when two lights create darkness, in simple terms) is a redistribution of light energy in space. No light or any kind of wave motion is destroyed by interference when two sets of waves overlap; instead, energy increases at some points and drops to zero at others. Wave energy isn’t wasted during interference—it's just rearranged. This idea is often misunderstood. The statement about the changing apparent weight—i.e., the pressure on the ground—of a living animal might also be misunderstood: this doesn’t involve energy, but rather force. The force or true weight, in terms of the Earth's pull, is always present and constant; but the pressure on the ground, or the force needed to balance the weight, isn’t constant. After a brief burst of movement, like when throwing, no support is needed for several seconds; and, like a maggot inside a hollow bean, a living thing turning itself into a projectile can even lift something else along with it. It’s also interesting to think about a flying bird and a dirigible balloon and to ask where their lingering weight can be detected.
Note B.—Differences Between a Growing Organism and a
Growing Crystal
The properties which differentiate living matter from any kind of inorganic imitation may be instinctively felt, but can hardly be formulated without expert knowledge. The differences between a growing organism and a growing crystal are many and various, but it must suffice here to specify the simplest and most familiar sort of difference; and as it is convenient to take a possibly controversial statement of this kind from the writings of a physiologist, I quote here a passage from an article by Professor Fraser Harris, of Halifax, Nova Scotia, in the current number of [ 294] the quarterly magazine called Science Progress edited by Sir Ronald Ross—
The traits that set living things apart from any kind of non-living imitation might be felt intuitively, but it's tough to describe them without expertise. There are many differences between a growing organism and a growing crystal, but let's focus on the simplest and most familiar one. To make a possibly debatable point, I'll share a quote from an article by Professor Fraser Harris from Halifax, Nova Scotia, in the latest issue of [ 294] the quarterly magazine called Science Progress, edited by Sir Ronald Ross—
"Living animal bioplasm has the power of growing, that is of assimilating matter in most cases chemically quite unlike that of its own constitution. Now this is a remarkable power, not in the least degree shared by non-living matter. Its very familiarity has blinded us to its uniqueness as a chemical phenomenon. The mere fact that a man eating beef, bird, fish, lobster, sugar, fat, and innumerable other things can transform these into human bioplasm, something chemically very different even from that of them which most resembles human tissue, is one of the most extraordinary facts in animal physiology. A crystal growing in a solution is not only not analogous to this process, it is in the sharpest possible contrast with it. The crystal grows only in the sense that it increases in bulk by accretions to its exterior, and only does that by being immersed in a solution of the same material as its own substance. It takes up to itself only material which is already similar to itself; this is not assimilation, it is merely incorporation.
"Living animal bioplasm can grow, which means it can absorb materials that are often chemically quite different from its own composition. This ability is impressive and is something non-living matter lacks. Because it’s so common, we often overlook its unique nature as a chemical phenomenon. The simple fact that a person can eat beef, chicken, fish, lobster, sugar, fat, and countless other things and transform them into human bioplasm—something chemically very different from even the substances most similar to human tissue—stands out as one of the most remarkable truths in animal physiology. A crystal growing in a solution is not just different from this process; it’s fundamentally the opposite. The crystal grows only by increasing in size through the accumulation of material on its surface, and it can only do so when submerged in a solution of the same material as itself. It only absorbs materials that are already similar to itself; this isn’t assimilation, but merely incorporation."
"The term 'growth,' strictly speaking, can be applied only to metabolism in the immature or convalescent organism. The healthy adult is not 'growing' in this sense; when of constant weight he is adding neither to his stature nor his girth, and yet he is assimilating as truly as ever he did. Put more technically: in the adult of stationary weight, anabolism is quantitatively equal to katabolism, whereas in the truly growing organism anabolism is prevailing over katabolism; and reversely in the wasting of an organism or in senile decay, katabolism is prevailing over anabolism. The crystal in its solution offers no analogies with the adult or the senile states—but these are of the very essence of the life of an organism....
"The term 'growth' really only applies to the metabolism of a developing or recovering organism. A healthy adult isn’t 'growing' in this sense; when they maintain a stable weight, they’re not getting taller or larger, yet they’re still assimilating just as effectively as before. To phrase it more technically: in an adult with a stable weight, anabolism equals katabolism, while in a growing organism, anabolism exceeds katabolism; conversely, during the degradation of an organism or in old age, katabolism exceeds anabolism. The crystal in its solution doesn’t draw any parallels to adult or aging states—but those are crucial to the life of an organism...."
"The fact, of course familiar to every beginner in biology, is that the crystal is only incorporating and not excreting anything, whereas the living matter is always excreting as well as assimilating. This one-sided metabolism—if it can be dignified with that term—is indeed characteristic of the crystal, but it is at no time characteristic of the living organism. The organism, whether truly growing or only in metabolic equilibrium, is constantly taking up material to replace effete material, is replenishing because it has previously displenished itself or cast off material. The resemblance between a so-called 'growing' crystal and a growing organism is verily of the most superficial kind."
"It’s a well-known fact, familiar to every beginner in biology, that a crystal only takes in materials and doesn’t eliminate anything, while living matter constantly both excretes and absorbs. This one-sided metabolism—if we can call it that—is indeed characteristic of crystals, but it is never a feature of living organisms. An organism, whether truly growing or just maintaining metabolic balance, is always taking in materials to replace the useless ones it has expelled. It’s replenishing itself because it has previously lost or discarded materials. The resemblance between a so-called 'growing' crystal and a growing organism is quite superficial."
And Professor Fraser Harris concludes his article thus:—
And Professor Fraser Harris concludes his article like this:—
"Between the living and the non-living there is a great gulf fixed, and no efforts of ours, however heroic, have as yet bridged it over."
"There's a vast gap between the living and the non-living, and no amount of our efforts, no matter how brave, has been able to bridge it."
Note C.—Aging
We know that as vitality diminishes the bodily deterioration called old age sets in, and that a certain amount of deterioration [295] results in death; but it turns out, on systematic inquiry, that old age and death are not essential to living organisms. They represent the deterioration and wearing out of working parts, so that the vivifying principle is hampered in its manifestation and cannot achieve results which with a younger and healthier machine were possible; but the parts which wear out are not the essential bearers of the vivifying principle; they are accreted or supplementary portions appropriate to developed individual earth life, and it does not appear improbable that the progress of discovery may at least postpone the deterioration that we call old age, for a much longer time than at present. Emphasis on this distinction between germ cell and body cell, usually associated with Weismann, seems to have been formulated before him by Herdman of Liverpool.
We know that as vitality decreases, the physical decline we call old age begins, and a certain level of decline leads to death; however, systematic investigation shows that old age and death aren’t inherent to living organisms. They reflect the degradation and exhaustion of functional parts, limiting the life force's expression and preventing it from achieving what a younger, healthier body could. The components that wear out aren’t the fundamental carriers of the life force; they are additional or supplementary parts related to individual earthly life. It doesn’t seem unlikely that advances in research might at least delay the decline we refer to as old age for a much longer time than we currently experience. The focus on the difference between germ cells and body cells, often linked to Weismann, seems to have been introduced earlier by Herdman from Liverpool.
Biologists teach us that the phenomenon of old age is not evident in the case of the unicellular organisms which reproduce by fission. The cell can be killed, but it need neither grow old nor die. Death appears to be a prerogative of the higher organisms. But even among these Professor Weismann adopts and defends the view that "death is not a primary necessity, but that it has been secondarily acquired by adaptation." The cell is not inherently limited in its number of cell-generations. The low unicellular organism is potentially immortal; the higher multicellular form, with well-differentiated organs, contains the germ of death within its soma. Death seems to supervene by reason of its utility to the species: continued life of an individual after a certain stage being comparatively useless. From the point of view of the race the soma or main body is "a secondary appendage of the real bearer of life—the reproductive cells." The somatic cells probably lost their immortal qualities on this immortality becoming useless to the species. Their mortality may have been a mere consequence of their differentiation. "Natural death was not introduced from absolute intrinsic necessity, inherent in the nature of living matter," says Weismann, "but on grounds of utility; that is from necessities which sprang up, not from the general conditions of life, but from those special conditions which dominate the life of multicellular organisms."
Biologists explain that aging isn't a factor for single-celled organisms that reproduce through fission. A cell can be destroyed, but it doesn’t necessarily age or die. Death seems to be specific to more complex organisms. However, Professor Weismann supports the idea that "death isn't a fundamental necessity; instead, it’s something that has been developed through adaptation." Cells aren't naturally limited in how many times they can divide. Single-celled organisms are potentially immortal, while more complex multicellular organisms, with specialized organs, have death built into their structure. Death appears to serve a purpose for the species: after reaching a certain point, an individual’s continued existence becomes relatively pointless. From a species perspective, the main body is "a secondary attachment to the real source of life—the reproductive cells." Somatic cells likely lost their immortality when that trait became irrelevant to the species. Their mortality may simply result from their specialization. "Natural death wasn’t implemented due to an absolute necessity inherent in living matter," Weismann says, "but for practical reasons; it emerged from needs that arose not from general life conditions, but from the specific conditions faced by multicellular organisms."
It is not the germ cell itself, but the bodily accretion or appendage, which is abandoned by life, and which accordingly dies and decays.
It’s not the germ cell itself, but the body’s extra parts or attachments that life abandons, and those parts then die and decay.
CHAPTER 2
THE MEANING OF THE TERM DEATH
"And Life, still wreathing flowers for Death to wear."—Rossetti
"And life is still creating flowers for death to wear."—Rossetti
WHATEVER Life may really be, it is to us an abstraction: for the word is a generalised term to signify that which is common to all animals and plants, and which is not directly operative in the inorganic world. To understand life we must study living things, to see what is common to them all. An organism is alive when it moulds matter to a characteristic form, and utilises energy for its own purposes—the purposes especially of growth and reproduction. A living organism, so far as it is alive, preserves its complicated structure from deterioration and decay.[34]
WHATEVER life really is, to us it’s an abstraction: the term is a general way to refer to what is common to all animals and plants, and what does not directly apply to the inorganic world. To understand life, we need to study living things to see what they all share. An organism is alive when it shapes matter into a distinctive form and uses energy for its own purposes—primarily for growth and reproduction. A living organism, as long as it is alive, maintains its complex structure from deterioration and decay.[34]
Death is the cessation of that controlling influence over matter and energy, so that thereafter the uncontrolled activity of physical and chemical forces supervene. Death is not the absence of life merely, the term signifies its departure or separation, the severance of the abstract principle from the concrete residue. The term only truly applies to that which has been living.
Death is when the controlling influence over matter and energy stops, allowing physical and chemical forces to act uncontrollably. Death isn't just the absence of life; it means that life has departed or separated, disconnecting the abstract principle from the physical body. The term really only applies to something that was alive.
Death therefore may be called a dissociation, a dissolution, a separation of a controlling entity from a physicochemical organism; it may be spoken of in general and vague terms as a separation of soul and body, if the term 'soul' is reduced to its lowest denomination.
Death can thus be described as a disconnection, a breakdown, a separation of a controlling entity from a physical organism; it can generally and vaguely be referred to as a separation of soul and body, if we simplify the concept of 'soul' to its most basic level.
Death is not extinction. Neither the soul nor the body is extinguished or put out of existence. The body weighs just as much as before, the only properties it loses at the moment of death are potential properties. So also all we can assert concerning the vital principle is that it no longer animates that material organism: we cannot safely make [ 297] further assertion regarding it, or maintain its activity or its inactivity without further information.
Death is not the end. Neither the soul nor the body disappears or ceases to exist. The body still weighs the same as it did before; it only loses its potential properties at the moment of death. Similarly, all we can say about the vital principle is that it no longer gives life to that physical body: we can't confidently say anything more about it, or claim it's active or inactive, without more information.
When we say that a body is dead we may be speaking accurately. When we say that a person is dead, we are using an ambiguous term; we may be referring to his discarded body, in which case we may be speaking truly and with precision. We may be referring to his personality, his character, to what is really himself; in which case though we must admit that we are speaking popularly, the term is not quite simply applicable. He has gone, he has passed on, he has "passed through the body and gone," as Browning says in Abt Vogler, but he is—I venture to say—certainly not dead in the same sense as the body is dead. It is his absence which allows the body to decay, he himself need be subject to no decay nor any destructive influence. Rather he is emancipated; he is freed from the burden of the flesh, though with it he has also lost those material and terrestrial potentialities which the bodily mechanism conferred upon him; and if he can exert himself on the earth any more, it can only be with some difficulty and as it were by permission and co-operation of those still here. It appears as if sometimes and occasionally he can still stimulate into activity suitable energetic mechanism, but his accustomed machinery for manifestation has been lost: or rather it is still there for a time, but it is out of action, it is dead.
When we say that a body is dead, we might be accurate. When we say that a person is dead, we’re using a vague term; we could be talking about their discarded body, which means we might be speaking truthfully and precisely. We could also be referring to their personality, their character, the essence of who they are; in that case, while we have to admit we’re using the term loosely, it doesn’t apply straightforwardly. They have left, they have moved on, they have “passed through the body and gone,” as Browning says in Abt Vogler, but I would say they are definitely not dead in the same way the body is. It’s their absence that causes the body to decay; they themselves don’t have to experience any decay or destructive forces. Instead, they are free; they are liberated from the weight of the flesh, although with that freedom, they have also lost the physical and earthly possibilities that the body provided them. If they can still interact with the earth, it can only be with some effort and with the permission and collaboration of those still living here. It seems that sometimes they can still activate some suitable force, but their usual means of expression is gone: or rather, it’s still there for a while, but it’s not functioning, it’s dead.
Nevertheless inasmuch as those who have lost their material body have passed through the process of dissolution or dissociative severance which we call death, it is often customary to speak of them as dead. They are no longer living, if by living we mean associated with a material body of the old kind; and in that sense we need not hesitate to speak of them collectively as 'the dead.'
Nevertheless, since those who have lost their physical bodies have gone through what we call death, it's common to refer to them as dead. They are no longer alive if by alive we mean being connected to a material body like the old one; and in that sense, we can comfortably refer to them collectively as 'the dead.'
We need not be afraid of the word, nor need we resent its use or hesitate to employ it, when once we and our hearers understand the sense in which it may rightly be employed. If ideas associated with the term had always been sensible and wholesome, people need have had no compunction at all about using it. But by the populace, and by Ecclesiastics also, the term has been so misused, and the ideas of people have been so confused by insistent [ 298] concentration on merely physical facts, and by the necessary but over-emphasised attention to the body left behind, that it was natural for a time to employ other words, until the latent ambiguity had ceased to be troublesome. And occasionally, even now, it is well to be emphatic in this direction, in order to indicate our disagreement with the policy of harping on worms and graves and epitaphs, or on the accompanying idea of a General Resurrection, with reanimation of buried bodies. Hence in strenuous contradiction to all this superstition comes the use of such phrases as 'transition' or 'passing,' and the occasional not strictly justifiable assertion that "there is no death."
We shouldn't be afraid of the word, nor should we resent its use or hesitate to use it, once we and our listeners understand the sense in which it can be rightfully used. If the ideas linked to the term had always been sensible and positive, people wouldn't feel any guilt about using it. However, the term has been so misused by the general public and by religious leaders that people's understanding has been confused by a constant focus on just physical facts and by the necessary but overly stressed attention to the physical body that's left behind. It was natural for a time to use other words until the hidden ambiguity became less troublesome. Even now, it’s sometimes important to emphasize this point to show our disagreement with focusing on worms, graves, epitaphs, or the related idea of a General Resurrection that involves the reanimation of buried bodies. Thus, in strong opposition to all this superstition, we use phrases like 'transition' or 'passing,' and occasionally claim, even if it's not entirely justifiable, that "there is no death."
For as a matter of familiar fact death there certainly is; and to deny a fact is no assistance. No one really means to deny a fact; those who make the statement only want to divert thoughts from a side already too much emphasised, and to concentrate attention on another side. What they mean is, there is no extinction. They definitely mean to maintain that the process called death is a mere severence of soul and body, and that the soul is freed rather than injured thereby. The body alone dies and decays; but there is no extinction even for it—only a change. For the other part there can hardly be even a change—except a change of surroundings. It is unlikely that character and personality are liable to sudden revolutions or mutations. Potentially they may be different, because of different opportunities, but actually at the moment they are the same. Likening existence to a curve, the curvature has changed, but there is no other discontinuity.
For sure, death is a real thing, and denying that doesn’t help anyone. No one truly intends to deny a fact; people who say that just want to shift focus from an already emphasized aspect and highlight another. What they mean is that there is no extinction. They definitely intend to suggest that death is just a separation of the soul and body, and that the soul is liberated rather than harmed by it. The body alone dies and decays, but even it doesn’t experience true extinction—just a transformation. For the soul, there’s hardly even a transformation—aside from a change in environment. It’s unlikely that character and personality undergo sudden upheavals or changes. They may potentially differ due to varying opportunities, but right now, they are the same. If we compare existence to a curve, the curvature has changed, but there’s no other break.
Death is not a word to fear, any more than birth is.
We change our state at birth, and come into the world of
air and sense and myriad existence; we change our state
at death and enter a region of—what? Of Ether, I
think, and still more myriad existence; a region in which
communion is more akin to what we here call telepathy,
and where intercourse is not conducted by the accustomed
indirect physical processes; but a region in which beauty
and knowledge are as vivid as they are here: a region in
which progress is possible, and in which "admiration, hope,
and love" are even more real and dominant. It is in this
[ 299]
sense that we can truly say, "The dead are not dead, but
alive." ούδέ τεθνᾷσι
θανὸντες.
Death is not a word to be afraid of, just like birth isn't. We shift our state at birth, entering a world filled with air, sensations, and countless forms of life; we shift our state at death and enter a realm of—what? Ether, I believe, and even more countless forms of existence; a realm where connection feels similar to what we now refer to as telepathy, and where interaction doesn’t rely on the usual physical methods; but a realm where beauty and knowledge are as vibrant as they are here: a realm where growth is possible, and where "admiration, hope, and love" are even more tangible and powerful. In this sense, we can truly say, "The dead are not dead, but alive." ούδέ τεθνᾷσι θανὸντες.
APPENDIX ON FEELINGS WHEN DEATH IS
IMMINENT
Preliminary Statement by O. J. L.
A lady was brought by a friend to call on us at Mariemont during a brief visit to Edgbaston, and I happened to have a talk with her in the garden. I found that she had been one of the victims of the Lusitania, and as she seemed very cheerful and placid about it, I questioned her as to her feelings on the occasion. I found her a charming person, and she entered into the matter with surprising fulness, considering that she was a complete stranger. Her chief anxiety seems to have been for her husband, whom she had left either in America or the West Indies, and for her friends generally; but on her own behalf she seems to have felt extremely little anxiety or discomfort of any kind. She told me she had given up hope of being saved, and was only worried about friends mourning on her behalf and thinking that she must have suffered a good deal, whereas, in point of fact, she was not really suffering at all. She was young and healthy, and apparently felt no evil results from the three hours' immersion. She was sucked down by the ship, and when she came to the surface again, her first feeling was one of blank surprise at the disappearance of what had brought her across the Atlantic. The ship was "not there."
A woman was brought by a friend to visit us at Mariemont during a short trip to Edgbaston, and I ended up having a conversation with her in the garden. I discovered that she had been one of the victims of the Lusitania, and since she seemed very cheerful and calm about it, I asked her how she felt about the experience. I found her to be a delightful person, and she shared her thoughts in impressive detail, especially considering she was a complete stranger. Her main concern seemed to be for her husband, whom she had left either in America or the West Indies, and for her friends in general; but for herself, she appeared to feel very little anxiety or discomfort. She told me she had given up on the hope of being rescued and was only worried about her friends grieving for her, thinking that she must have gone through a lot, whereas, in reality, she wasn’t suffering at all. She was young and healthy and apparently felt no adverse effects from being in the water for three hours. She had been pulled down by the ship, and when she resurfaced, her first feeling was one of sheer surprise at the absence of what had brought her across the Atlantic. The ship was "not there."
I thought her account so interesting, that after a few months I got her address from the friend with whom she had been staying, and wrote asking if she would write it down for me. In due course she did so, writing from abroad, and permits me to make use of the statement, provided I suppress her name; which accordingly I do, quoting the document otherwise in full.
I found her story so fascinating that after a few months, I got her address from the friend she had been staying with and wrote to ask if she could write it down for me. Eventually, she did, sending it from overseas, and she allows me to use her statement as long as I keep her name confidential; which I will do, quoting the document completely otherwise.
The Document referred to
The referenced document
"Your letter came to me as a great pleasure and surprise. I have always remembered the sympathy with which you listened to me, that morning at Edgbaston, and sometimes wondered at the amount I said, as it is not easy to give expression to feelings and speculations which are only roused at critical moments in one's life.
"Your letter was a wonderful surprise and brought me a lot of joy. I've always remembered how you listened to me with such understanding that morning at Edgbaston, and I've often been surprised by how much I shared, since it's not easy to articulate the feelings and thoughts that arise during significant moments in life."
"What you ask me to do is not easy, as I am only one of those who are puzzling and groping in the dark—while you have found so much light for yourself and have imparted it to others.
"What you’re asking me to do isn’t easy, since I’m just one of those who are confused and searching in the dark—while you’ve found so much clarity for yourself and shared it with others."
"I would like, however, most sincerely to try to recall my sensations with regard to that experience, if they would be of any value to you.
"I would genuinely like to try to remember my feelings about that experience if they would be useful to you."
"It would be absurd to say now, that from the beginning of the [ 300] voyage I knew what would happen; it was not a very actual knowledge, but I was conscious of a distinct forewarning, and the very calmness and peace of the voyage seemed, in a way, a state of waiting for some great event. Therefore when the ship was rent by the explosion (it was as sudden as the firing of a pistol) I felt no particular shock, because of that curious inner expectancy. The only acute feeling I remember at the moment was one of anger that such a crime could have been committed; the fighting instinct predominated in the face of an unseen but near enemy. I sometimes think it was partly that same instinct—the desire to die game—that accounted for the rather grim calmness of some of the passengers. After all—it was no ordinary shipwreck, but a Chance of War. I put down my book and went round to the other side of the ship where a great many passengers were gathering round the boats; it was difficult to stand, as the Lusitania was listing heavily. There seemed to be no panic whatever; I went into my cabin, a steward very kindly helped me with a life-jacket, and advised me to throw away my fur coat. I felt no hurry or anxiety, and returned on deck, where I stood with some difficulty— discussing our chances with an elderly man I just knew by sight.
"It would be silly to claim that I knew from the very beginning of the [ 300] voyage what would happen; it wasn't exactly clear knowledge, but I felt a strong sense of foreboding, and the calmness and peace of the journey seemed like waiting for something major to occur. So when the ship was ripped apart by the explosion (it was as sudden as a gunshot), I didn’t feel any particular shock due to that strange inner anticipation. The only strong emotion I remember at that moment was anger that such a crime could happen; the instinct to fight kicked in against an unseen but close enemy. Sometimes I think it was that same instinct—the desire to go down fighting—that explained the grim calmness of some passengers. After all, this was no ordinary shipwreck but a War Incident. I set my book aside and went to the other side of the ship where many passengers were gathering around the lifeboats; it was hard to keep my balance because the Lusitania was leaning heavily. There didn’t seem to be any panic at all; I went into my cabin, and a steward kindly helped me with a life jacket and advised me to leave my fur coat behind. I didn’t feel rushed or anxious, and returned on deck, where I struggled a bit to stand—talking about our chances with an older man I only knew by sight."
"It was then I think we realised what a strong instinct there was in some of us—not to struggle madly for life—but to wait for something to come to us, whether it be life or death; and not to lose our personality and become like one of the struggling shouting creatures who were by then swarming up from the lower decks and made one's heart ache. I never felt for a moment that my time to cross over had come—not until I found myself in the water—floating farther and farther away from the scene of wreckage and misery—in a sea as calm and vast as the sky overhead. Behind me, the cries of those who were sinking grew fainter, the splash of oars and the calls of those who were doing rescue work in the lifeboats; there seemed to be no possibility of rescue for me; so I reasoned with myself and said, 'The time has come—you must believe it—the time to cross over'—but inwardly and persistently something continued to say, 'No—not now.'
"It was then I think we realized how strong the instinct was in some of us—not to fight desperately for life—but to wait for something to come to us, whether that was life or death; and to not lose our individuality and become like one of the frantic shouting beings who were then crowding up from the lower decks and breaking our hearts. I never felt for a second that my moment to cross over had arrived—not until I found myself in the water—floating farther and farther away from the scene of destruction and despair—in a sea as calm and expansive as the sky above. Behind me, the cries of those who were sinking faded, the splash of oars, and the calls from those trying to help in the lifeboats; it seemed there was no chance of rescue for me; so I talked to myself and said, 'The time has come—you must believe it—the time to cross over'—but deep down, something kept insisting, 'No—not now.'
"The gulls were flying overhead and I remember noticing the beauty of the blue shadows which the sea throws up to their white feathers: they were very happy and alive and made me feel rather lonely; my thoughts went to my people—looking forward to seeing me, and at that moment having tea in the garden at —— the idea of their grief was unbearable—I had to cry a little. Names of books went through my brain;—one specially, called 'Where no Fear is,' seemed to express my feeling at the time! Loneliness, yes, and sorrow on account of the grief of others—but no Fear. It seemed very normal,—very right,—a natural development of some kind about to take place. How can it be otherwise, when it is natural? I rather wished I knew some one on the other side, and wondered if there are friendly strangers there who come to the rescue. I was very near the border-line when a wandering lifeboat quietly came up behind me and two men bent down and lifted me in. It was extraordinary how quickly life came rushing back;—every one in the boat seemed very [ 301] self-possessed—although there was one man dead and another losing his reason. One woman expressed a hope for a 'cup of tea' shortly—a hope which was soon to be realised for all of us in a Mine Sweeper from Queenstown. I have forgotten her name—but shall always remember the kindness of her crew—specially the Chief Officer, who saved me much danger by giving me dry clothes and hot towels.
"The seagulls were flying overhead, and I remember noticing the stunning blue shadows that the sea cast on their white feathers. They looked really happy and full of life, which made me feel quite lonely; my thoughts drifted to my loved ones—eagerly waiting to see me, having tea in the garden at ——. The thought of their grief was too much to bear—I had to cry a little. Titles of books flashed through my mind; one in particular, called 'Where No Fear Is,' seemed to capture my feelings at that moment! Loneliness, yes, and sorrow for the grief of others—but no Fear. It felt very normal—very right—a natural transition about to happen. How could it be any different when it is natural? I really wished I knew someone on the other side and wondered if there were friendly strangers there to help. I was very close to crossing over when a drifting lifeboat quietly came up behind me, and two men reached down and pulled me in. It was amazing how quickly life came rushing back; everyone in the boat seemed quite composed—despite one man being dead and another losing his mind. One woman mentioned hoping for a 'cup of tea' soon—a hope that was quickly fulfilled for all of us in a Mine Sweeper from Queenstown. I’ve forgotten her name, but I will always remember the kindness of her crew—especially the Chief Officer, who saved me from much danger by giving me dry clothes and hot towels."
"All this can be of very little interest to you—I have no skill in putting things on paper;—but, you know. I am glad to have been near the border; to have had the feeling of how very near it is always—only there are so many little things always going on to absorb one here.
"All of this might not interest you much—I’m not great at writing things down—but you know. I’m happy to have been close to the threshold; to have felt how very close it is always—but there are so many small things happening all the time that catch your attention here."
"Others on that day were passing through a Gate which was not open for me—but I do not expect they were afraid when the time came—they too probably felt that whatever they were to find would be beautiful—only a fulfilment of some kind.... I have reason to think that the passing from here is very painless—at least when there is no illness. We seemed to be passing through a stage on the road of Life."
"Others that day were going through a Gate that wasn’t open for me—but I don’t think they were scared when the moment came—they probably felt that whatever they were about to discover would be beautiful—just a kind of fulfillment.... I believe that moving on from here is pretty painless—at least when you’re not sick. It felt like we were going through a phase on the journey of Life."
Footnotes
Footnotes
[34] See Note C at end of preceding chapter.
CHAPTER 3
Death and decay
"All, that doth live, lives always!"—Edwin Arnold
"Everything that lives, lives forever!"—Edwin Arnold
CONSIDER now the happenings to the discarnate body. In the first place, I repeat, it is undesirable to concentrate attention on a grave. The discarnate body must be duly attended to when done with; the safety of the living is a paramount consideration; the living must retain control over what is dead. Uncontrolled natural forces are often dangerous: the only thing harmful about a flood or a fire is the absence of control. Either the operations must be supervised and intelligently directed, or they must be subjected to such disabilities that they can do no harm. But to associate continued personality with a dead body, such as is suggested by phrases like "lay him in the earth", or "here lies such an one," or to anticipate any kind of physical resuscitation, is unscientific and painful. Unfortunately the orthodox religious world at some epochs has attached superstitious importance, not to the decent disposal, but to the imagined future of the body. Painful and troublesome to humanity those rites have been. The tombs of Egypt are witness to the harassing need felt by the living to provide their loved ones with symbols or tokens of all that they might require in a future state of existence,—as if material things were needed by them any more, or as if we could provide them if they were.[35] The simple truth is always so much saner and [ 303] happier than the imaginings of men; or, as Dr. Schuster said in his Presidential address to the British Association at Manchester, 1915,—"The real world is far more beautiful than any of our dreams."
CONSIDER now what happens to the body after death. First, I want to emphasize that it’s not a good idea to focus too much on a grave. The deceased body needs to be properly handled once it’s done, but the safety of the living is the top priority; they must maintain control over what is no longer alive. Uncontrolled natural forces can often be dangerous: the only harmful aspect of a flood or fire is a lack of control. Either these processes need to be monitored and intelligently managed, or they need to be restricted so that they can do no harm. However, linking continued identity to a dead body, as suggested by phrases like "lay him in the earth" or "here lies such and such," or expecting any form of physical revival, is unscientific and distressing. Sadly, at various times, the traditional religious community has attached superstitious significance, not to proper burial, but to the imagined fate of the body. Those rituals have been painful and burdensome to humanity. The tombs of Egypt stand as evidence of the constant anxiety felt by the living to provide their loved ones with symbols or items they might need in an afterlife, as if material possessions are necessary for them now, or as if we could give them those things if they were. The simple truth is much healthier and happier than human fantasies; or, as Dr. Schuster stated in his Presidential address to the British Association in Manchester, 1915, "The real world is far more beautiful than any of our dreams."
What is the simple truth? It can be regarded from two points of view, the prosaic and the poetic.
What is the simple truth? It can be seen from two perspectives: the straightforward and the poetic.
Prosaically we can say that the process of decay, if regarded scientifically, is not in itself necessarily repugnant. It may be as interesting as fermentation or any other chemical or biological process. Putrefaction, like poison, is hostile to higher living organisms, and hence a self-protecting feeling of disgust has arisen round it, in the course of evolution. An emotional feeling arises in the mind of anyone who has to combat any process or operation of nature,—like the violent emotions excited in an extreme teetotaller by the word 'drink': a result of the evil its profanation has done; for the verb itself is surely quite harmless. Presumably a criminal associates disagreeable anticipations with the simple word 'hanging.' The idea of a rank weed is repulsive to a gardener, but not to a botanist; the idea of disease is repellent to a prospective patient, not to a doctor or bacteriologist; the idea of dirt is objectionable to a housewife, but it is only matter out of place; the word 'poison' conveys nothing objectionable to a chemist. Everything removed from the emotional arena, and transplanted into the intellectual, becomes interesting and tractable and worthy of study. Living organisms of every kind are good in themselves, though when out of place and beyond control they may be harmful. A tiger is an object of dread to an Indian village: to a hunting party he may be keenly attractive. In any case he is a lithe and beautiful and splendid creature. Microscopic organisms may have troublesome and destructive effects, but in themselves they can be studied with interest and avidity. All living creatures have their assuredly useful function, only it may be a function on which we naturally shrink from dwelling when [ 304] in an emotional mood. Everything of this kind is an affair of mood; and, properly regarded, nothing in nature is common or unclean. That a flying albatross is a beautiful object every one can cordially admit, but that the crawling surface of a stagnant sea can be regarded with friendly eyes seems an absurdity; yet there is nothing absurd in it. It is surely the bare truth concerning all living creatures of every grade, that "the Lord God made them all"; and it was of creeping water-snakes that the stricken Mariner at length, when he had learnt the lesson, ejaculated:—
In simple terms, we can say that the process of decay, when looked at scientifically, isn't necessarily disgusting. It can be as fascinating as fermentation or any other chemical or biological process. Decay, like poison, is harmful to higher living organisms, which is why humans have developed a natural feeling of disgust towards it throughout evolution. An emotional response arises in anyone who has to fight against any natural process—similar to how a strict teetotaler might react violently to the word ‘drink’ because of the harm associated with its misuse; the word itself is neutral. Likewise, a criminal likely associates negative feelings with the simple word ‘hanging.’ The thought of a nasty weed is off-putting to a gardener, but not to a botanist. The idea of illness is repugnant to a potential patient, but not to a doctor or bacteriologist. Filth bothers a housewife, but it's just matter out of place; for a chemist, the word 'poison' doesn't carry any negative connotation. When we remove something from emotional contexts and analyze it intellectually, it becomes interesting, manageable, and worth studying. All kinds of living organisms are inherently good, although they can be harmful when out of context or beyond our control. A tiger is feared in an Indian village but is fascinating to a hunting group. In any case, it’s a sleek, beautiful, and magnificent creature. Microscopic organisms can cause problems and destruction, but they can also be studied with curiosity and enthusiasm. Every living creature has its certainly useful role, though it might be a role we instinctively hesitate to consider when we’re feeling emotional. Everything like this is about perspective; when viewed correctly, nothing in nature is common or dirty. Everyone can agree that a flying albatross is a stunning sight, but seeing the crawling surface of a stagnant sea as something pleasant seems ridiculous; yet there’s nothing absurd about it. It’s a fundamental truth about all living beings of every kind that "the Lord God made them all," and it was of creeping water-snakes that the wounded Mariner eventually, when he learned the lesson, exclaimed:—
"O happy living things!
"O happy living beings!
A spring of love gushed from my heart,
A flow of love poured from my heart,
And I blessed them unaware."
"And I blessed them unknowingly."
For what can be said poetically about the fate of the beloved body, the poets themselves must be appealed to. But that there is kinship between the body and the earth is literal truth. Of terrestrial particles it is wholly composed, and that they should be restored to the earth whence they were borrowed is natural and peaceful. Moreover, out of the same earth, and by aid of the very same particles, other helpful forms of life may arise; and though there may be no conscious unification or real identity, yet it is pardonable to associate, in an imaginative and poetic mood, the past and future forms assumed by the particles:—
For anything poetic that can be said about the fate of the cherished body, we must turn to the poets themselves. However, it is a simple truth that the body and the earth are connected. It is made entirely of earthly particles, and it is natural and peaceful for those particles to return to the earth from which they came. Additionally, from the same earth, and using the very same particles, new forms of life can emerge; and although there might not be a conscious unity or true identity, it's understandable to creatively and poetically link the past and future forms taken on by those particles:—
"Lay her i' the earth;—
"Lay her in the earth;"
And from her fair and unpolluted flesh,
And from her beautiful and pure body,
May violets spring!"
"May violets bloom!"
Quotations are hardly necessary to show that this idea runs through all poetry. An ancient variety is enshrined in the Hyacinthus and Adonis legends. From spilt blood an inscribed lily springs, in the one tale; and the other we may quote in Shakespeare's version (Venus and Adonis):—
Quotations aren't really needed to demonstrate that this idea appears in all poetry. An old example is preserved in the Hyacinthus and Adonis legends. In one story, a lily grows from spilled blood; and in the other, we can refer to Shakespeare's version (Venus and Adonis):—
"And in his blood that on the ground lay spilled,
"And in his blood that was spilled on the ground,
A purple flower sprung up chequered with white,
A purple flower popped up with white spots,
Resembling well his pale cheeks and the blood
He had pale cheeks that resembled blood.
Which in round drops upon their whiteness stood."
"Which fell in round drops on their whiteness."
So also Tennyson:—
So also Tennyson:—
"And from his ashes may be made
"And from his ashes may be made
The violet of his native land."
The violet from his country.
In Memoriam
In Memory
We find the same idea again, I suppose, in the eastern original of Fitzgerald's well-known stanza:—
We see the same idea again, I guess, in the eastern original of Fitzgerald's famous stanza:—
"And this delightful Herb whose tender Green
"And this beautiful herb with its slender green"
Fledges the River's Lip on which we lean—
Fledges the River's Lip on which we lean—
Ah, lean upon it lightly! for who knows
Ah, take it easy on that! Because who knows
From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen!"
From what was once a beautiful lip, it springs without being seen!
The soil of a garden is a veritable charnel-house of vegetable and animal matter, and from one point of view represents death and decay, but the coltsfoot covering an abandoned heap of refuse, or the briar growing amid ruin, shows that Nature only needs time to make it all beautiful again. Let us think of the body as transmuted, not as stored.
The soil of a garden is a true graveyard of plant and animal matter, and in a way, it symbolizes death and decay. However, the coltsfoot covering a pile of trash, or the briar growing among the ruins, shows that Nature just needs time to restore beauty. Let's think of the body as transformed, not as merely stored.
The visible shape of the body was no accident, it
corresponded to a reality, for it was caused by the indwelling
vivifying essence; and affection entwines itself
inevitably round not only the true personality of the departed,
but round its material vehicle also—the sign and
symbol of so much beauty, so much love. Symbols
appeal to the heart of humanity, and anything cherished
and honoured becomes in itself a thing of intrinsic value,
which cannot be regarded with indifference. The old and
tattered colours of a regiment, for which men have laid
down their lives—though replaced perhaps by something
newer and more durable—cannot be relegated to
obscurity without a pang. And any sensitive or sympathetic
person, contemplating such relics hereafter, may
feel some echo of the feeling with which they were regarded,
and may become acquainted with their history
and the scenes through which they have passed.
The shape of the body was no coincidence; it reflected a truth because it was created by an inner life force. Love inevitably wraps itself around not just the true essence of the person who has passed but also around their physical form—the representation of so much beauty and love. Symbols resonate with humanity's heart, and anything that is treasured and respected becomes meaningful in itself, impossible to view with indifference. The old, worn colors of a regiment, for which soldiers have given their lives—though they may be replaced by something newer and sturdier—cannot be dismissed without a sense of loss. And anyone sensitive or compassionate, looking at such relics in the future, might feel a trace of the emotions that once surrounded them and might learn about their history and the experiences they've endured.
In such cases the kind of knowledge to be gained from the relic, and the means by which additional information can be acquired, are intelligible; but in other cases also information can be attained, though by means at present not understood. It may sound superstitious, but it is a matter of actual experience, that some sensitives have [ 306] intuitive perception, of an unfamiliar kind, concerning the history and personal associations of relics or fragments or personal belongings. The faculty is called psychometry; and it is no more intelligible, although no less well-evidenced, than the possibly allied faculty of dowsing or so-called water-divining. Psychometry is a large subject on which much has already been written: this brief mention must here suffice.
In these situations, the type of knowledge that can be gained from the relic and how to gather more information is clear; however, in other situations, information can still be obtained, though through means that are not currently understood. It might seem superstitious, but it’s a real experience for some sensitive individuals who have an intuitive understanding, of a different kind, regarding the history and personal connections of relics, fragments, or personal items. This ability is known as psychometry; it's just as obscure, yet just as well-documented, as the possibly related ability of dowsing or water-divining. Psychometry is an expansive topic that has already been extensively discussed: this brief mention will have to do for now.
It seems to me that these facts, when at length properly
understood, will throw some light on the connexion between
mind and matter; and then many another obscure
region of semi-science and semi-superstition will be illuminated.
At present in all such tracts we have to walk warily,
for the ground is uneven and insecure; and it is better, or
at least safer, for the majority to forgo the recognition
of some truth than rashly to invade a district full of
entanglements and pitfalls.
It seems to me that once we fully understand these facts, they will help clarify the connection between mind and matter. This will also shed light on many other confusing areas that blend science and superstition. Right now, we have to tread carefully in these areas, as the ground is unstable and uncertain. It’s often better, or at least safer, for most people to avoid acknowledging certain truths than to recklessly venture into a territory full of complexities and dangers.
Transition
Longfellow's line, "There is no death; what seems so is transition," at once suggests itself. Read literally the first half of this sentence is obviously untrue, but in the sense intended, and as a whole, the statement is true enough. There is no extinction, and the change called death is the entrance to a new condition of existence—what may be called a new life.
Longfellow's line, "There is no death; what seems so is transition," immediately comes to mind. Taken literally, the first part of this sentence is clearly untrue, but in the intended sense, and as a whole, the statement holds enough truth. There is no complete ending, and the change referred to as death is the gateway to a new state of existence—what could be described as a new life.
Yet life itself is continuous, and the conditions of the whole of existence remain precisely as before. Circumstances have changed for the individual, but only in the sense that he is now aware of a different group of facts. The change of surroundings is a subjective one. The facts were of course there, all the time, as the stars are there in the daytime; but they were out of our ken. Now these come into our ken, and others fade into memory.
Yet life itself goes on, and the conditions of existence remain exactly the same as before. The individual’s circumstances may have changed, but only in the sense that he is now aware of a different set of facts. The change in surroundings is a subjective experience. The facts were always present, just like the stars are there during the day; we just couldn't see them. Now these facts come into view, while others fade into memory.
The Universe is one, not two. Literally there is no 'other' world—except in the limited and partial sense of other planets—the Universe is one. We exist in it continuously all the time; sometimes conscious in one way, sometimes conscious in another; sometimes aware of a group of facts on one side of a partition, sometimes aware of another group, on the other side. But the partition is [ 307] a subjective one; we are all one family all the time, so long as the link of affection is not broken. And for those who believe in prayer at all to cease from praying for the welfare of their friends because they are materially inaccessible—though perhaps spiritually more accessible than before—is to succumb unduly to the residual evil of past ecclesiastical abuses, and to lose an opportunity of happy service.
The Universe is one, not two. There is literally no 'other' world—except in a limited and partial way when referring to other planets—the Universe is one. We exist in it continuously all the time; sometimes aware in one way, sometimes aware in another; sometimes conscious of a group of facts on one side of a divide, sometimes aware of a different group on the other side. But the divide is a subjective one; we are all one family all the time, as long as the bond of affection is not broken. And for those who believe in prayer to stop praying for the well-being of their friends just because they are physically inaccessible—though perhaps spiritually closer than before—is to allow the lingering negativity from past religious abuses to affect them, and to miss out on a chance for joyful service.
Footnotes
Footnotes
[35] It is rash to condemn a human custom which has prevailed for centuries or millenniums, and it is wrong to treat it de haut en bas. I would not be understood as doing so, in this brief and inadequate reference to the contents of Egyptian tombs. Their fuller interpretation awaits the labour of students now working at them.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ It's not wise to criticize a human tradition that has persisted for centuries or even thousands of years, and it's inappropriate to look down on it. I don't intend to present myself that way in this brief discussion about what’s inside Egyptian tombs. A deeper understanding will come from the work of scholars who are currently studying them.
In the same spirit I wish to leave open the question of what possible rational interpretation may be given to the mediæval phrase "Resurrection of the body"; a subject on which much has been written. What I am contending against is not the scholarly but the popular interpretation. For further remarks on this subject see Chapter VII below.
With that in mind, I want to leave open the question of how to rationally interpret the medieval phrase "Resurrection of the body"; a topic that has been widely debated. What I'm arguing against here is not the scholarly interpretation but the popular one. For more insights on this topic, see Chapter VII below.
CHAPTER 4
Ongoing existence
Challenge of Believing in Ongoing Existence
"Sit down before fact as a little child, be prepared to give up every preconceived notion, follow humbly wherever and to whatsoever abysses Nature leads."—Huxley.
"Sit down before facts like a little child, be ready to let go of every preconceived idea, and follow humbly wherever and whatever depths Nature takes you."—Huxley.
PEOPLE often feel a notable difficulty in believing in the reality of continued existence. Very likely it is difficult to believe or to realise existence in what is sometimes called "the next world"; but then, when we come to think of it, it is difficult to believe in existence in this world too; it is difficult to believe in existence at all. The whole problem of existence is a puzzling one. It could by no means have been predicated a priori. The whole thing is a question of experience; that is, of evidence. We know by experience that things actually do exist; though how they came into being, and what they are all for, and what consequences they have, is more than we can tell. We have no reason for asserting that the kind we are familiar with is the only kind of existence possible, unless we choose to assert it on the ground that we have no experience of any other. But that is becoming just the question at issue: have we any evidence, either direct or indirect, for any other existence than this? If we have, it is futile to cite in opposition to it the difficulty of believing in the reality of such an existence; we surely ought to be guided by facts.
PEOPLE often find it hard to believe in the reality of continued existence. It's probably tough to accept existence in what some call "the next world," but when we really think about it, it's also difficult to believe in existence in this world too; it's challenging to believe in existence at all. The whole issue of existence is confusing. It couldn't have been predicted a priori. It all comes down to experience; that is, to evidence. We know from experience that things actually exist; however, how they came to be, what their purpose is, and what impact they have are all beyond our understanding. We have no reason to claim that the kind of existence we know is the only kind that exists, unless we argue that based on the fact that we have no experience with any other. But that brings us to the central question: do we have any evidence, either direct or indirect, for any type of existence beyond this one? If we do, it’s pointless to argue against it by saying it's hard to believe in the reality of such existence; we should definitely be guided by facts.
At this stage in the history of the human race few facts of science are better established and more widely appreciated than the main facts of Astronomy: a general acquaintance with the sizes and distances, and the enormous number, of the solar systems distributed throughout space[ 309] is prevalent. Yet to the imaginative human mind the facts, if really grasped, are overwhelming and incredible.
At this point in human history, few scientific facts are as well-established and widely recognized as those in Astronomy: most people have a general understanding of the sizes and distances, as well as the vast number of solar systems spread across space[ 309]. However, for the imaginative human mind, these facts, when fully understood, are both astonishing and unbelievable.
The sun a million times bigger than the earth; Arcturus a hundred times bigger than the sun, and so distant that light has taken two centuries to come, though travelling at a rate able to carry it to New York and back in less than the twentieth part of a second,—facts like these are commonplaces of the nursery; but even as bare facts they are appalling.
The sun is a million times bigger than the Earth; Arcturus is a hundred times bigger than the sun, and so far away that it takes light two centuries to reach us, even though it can travel to New York and back in less than a twentieth of a second. These kinds of facts are often mentioned in children's stories, but even when you look at them just as facts, they are shocking.
That the earth is a speck invisible from any one of the stars, that we are on a world which is but one among an innumerable multitude of others, ought to make us realise the utter triviality of any view of existence based upon familiarity with street and train and office, ought to give us some sense of proportion between everyday experience and ultimate reality. Even the portentous struggle in which Europe is engaged—
That the earth is a tiny dot that can't even be seen from any of the stars, that we live on a planet that's just one among countless others, should make us understand how insignificant any perspective on life is that's based solely on our daily routines like streets, trains, and offices. It should help us gain some perspective on the difference between our everyday experiences and the bigger picture of reality. Even the significant conflict that's happening in Europe—
"What is it all but a trouble of ants
"What is it all but a hassle of ants?"
in the gleam of a million million of suns?"
in the glow of countless suns?"
Yet, for true interpretation, the infinite worth and vital importance of each individual human soul must be apprehended too. And that is another momentous fact, which, so far from restricting the potentialities of existence, by implication still further enlarges them. The multiplicity, the many-sidedness, the magnificence, of material existence does not dwarf the human soul; far otherwise: it illumines and expands the stage upon which the human drama is being played, and ought to make us ready to perceive how far greater still may be the possibilities—nay, the actualities—before it, in its infinite unending progress.
Yet, for true understanding, we must also recognize the immense value and vital significance of each individual human soul. This is another crucial fact that, rather than limiting the possibilities of existence, actually broadens them even further. The variety, complexity, and splendor of material existence do not overshadow the human soul; on the contrary, they illuminate and expand the stage on which the human drama unfolds, encouraging us to see how much greater the possibilities—and indeed the realities—may be before it, in its infinite, ongoing journey.
That we know little about such possibilities as yet, proves nothing;—for mark how easy it would have been to be ignorant of the existence of all the visible worlds and myriad modes of being in space. Not until the business of the day is over, and our great star has eclipsed itself behind the earth, not until the serener period of night, does the grandeur of the material universe force itself upon our attention. And, even then, let there be but a slight permanent thickening of our atmosphere, and we should have had no revelation of any world other than our own.[ 310] Under those conditions—so barely escaped from—how wretchedly meagre and limited would have been our conception of the Universe! Aye, and, unless we foolishly imagine that our circumstances are such as to have already given us a clue to every kind of possible existence, I venture to say that "wretchedly meagre and limited" must be a true description of our conception of the Universe, even now,—even of the conception of those who have permitted themselves, with least hesitation, to follow whithersoever facts lead.
That we know so little about such possibilities so far proves nothing; just think how easy it would have been to be completely unaware of the existence of all the visible worlds and countless ways of being in space. Only after the day's work is done and our great star has set behind the earth, only during the calm of night, does the magnificence of the material universe demand our attention. And even then, if our atmosphere thickened just a little, we might never have discovered any world beyond our own.[ 310] Under those barely avoided circumstances, how pitifully small and limited would our understanding of the Universe have been! Yes, and unless we foolishly think our situation has already shown us every kind of possible existence, I would argue that "pitifully small and limited" is still a valid description of our understanding of the Universe, even now—especially for those who have allowed themselves to follow wherever the facts lead with the least hesitation.
If there be any group of scientific or historical or literary students who advocate what they think to be a sensible, but what I regard as a purblind, view of existence, based upon already systematised knowledge and on unfounded and restricting speculation as to probable boundaries and limitations of existence,—if such students take their own horizon to be the measure of all things,—the fact is to be deplored. Such workers, however admirable their industry and detailed achievements, represent a school of thought against the fruits of which we of the Allied Nations are in arms.
If there is any group of scientific, historical, or literary students who support what they believe is a logical, but what I see as a narrow-minded, perspective on existence, based on established knowledge and on unfounded and limiting speculation about the possible boundaries and limitations of existence—if these students consider their own understanding to be the standard for all things—this is unfortunate. These individuals, no matter how commendable their hard work and detailed accomplishments, represent a line of thought that we, the Allied Nations, are opposing.
Nevertheless speculation of this illegitimate and negative kind is not unknown among us. It originates partly in admiration for the successful labours of a bygone generation in clearing away a quantity of clinging parasitic growth which was obscuring the fair fabric of ascertained truth, and partly in an innate iconoclastic enthusiasm.
Nevertheless, this kind of illegitimate and negative speculation isn't uncommon among us. It partly comes from admiration for the successful efforts of a past generation in removing a lot of lingering, parasitic growth that was hiding the beautiful structure of established truth, and partly from a natural enthusiasm for breaking icons.
The success which has attended Darwinian and other hypotheses has had a tendency to lead men—not indeed men of Darwinian calibre, but smaller and less conscientious men—in science as well as in history and theology, to an over-eager confidence in probable conjecture and inadequate attention to facts of experience. It has even been said—I quote from a writer in the volume Darwin and Modern Science, published in connexion with a Darwin jubilee celebration at Cambridge—that "the age of materialism was the least matter-of-fact age conceivable, and the age of science the age which showed least of the patient temper of enquiry." I would not go so far as this myself, the statement savours of exaggeration, but there is a regrettable tendency in surviving materialistic quarters for combatants to entrench themselves in dogma[ 311] and preconceived opinion, to regard these vulnerable shelters as sufficient protection against observed and recorded facts, and even to employ them as strongholds from which alien observation-posts can be shattered and overthrown.
The success of Darwinian and other theories has led some people—not the highly knowledgeable like Darwin himself, but smaller-minded and less scrupulous individuals—in science, history, and theology, to overly trust in likely guesses and to ignore factual evidence. It has even been claimed—I’m quoting from a writer in the volume Darwin and Modern Science, published in connection with a Darwin jubilee celebration at Cambridge—that "the age of materialism was the least matter-of-fact age imaginable, and the age of science was the one that had the least patience for inquiry." I wouldn't go that far myself; the claim feels exaggerated, but there is a concerning trend among surviving materialistic groups where participants bunker down in dogma and preconceived notions, treating these vulnerable positions as enough protection against observed and documented facts and even using them as fortresses from which they can attack outside viewpoints.
CHAPTER 5
Past, Present, and Future
"How often have men thus feared that Nature's wonders
would be degraded by being closelier looked into! How often,
again, have they learnt that the truth was higher than their imagination;
and that it is man's work, but never Nature's, which
to be magnificent must remain unknown!"—F. W. H. M., Introduction
to Phantasms of the Living
"How often have men feared that Nature's wonders would lose their magic if examined more closely! And how often have they learned that the truth is greater than their imagination; it’s man's work, not Nature's, that must remain unknown to be magnificent!"—F. W. H. M., Introduction to Phantasms of the Living
OUR actual experience is strangely limited. We cannot be actually conscious of more than a single instant of time. The momentary flash which we call the present, the visual image of which can be made permanent by the snap of a camera, is all of the external world that we directly apprehended. But our real existence embraces far more than that. The present, alone and isolated, would be meaningless to us; we look before and after. Our memories are thronged with the past; our anticipations range over the future; and it is in the past and the future that we really live. It is so even with the higher animals: they too order their lives by memory and anticipation. It is under the influence of the future that the animal world performs even the most trivial conscious acts. We eat, we rest, we work, all with an eye to the immediate future. The present moment is illuminated and made significant, is controlled and dominated, by experience of the past and by expectation of the future. Without any idea of the future our existence would be purely mechanical and meaningless: with too little eye to the future—a mere living from hand to mouth—it becomes monotonous and dull.
OUR actual experience is surprisingly limited. We can’t be truly aware of more than one instant of time. The fleeting moment we refer to as the present, which can be captured in a photo, is all of the external world that we actually perceive. But our real existence encompasses much more than that. The present, standing alone, would be meaningless to us; we think about the past and the future. Our memories are filled with the past; our hopes look toward the future; and it is in the past and the future that we genuinely live. This is true even for higher animals: they also shape their lives through memory and anticipation. It’s the influence of the future that drives even the most basic conscious actions in the animal kingdom. We eat, rest, and work, all considering the immediate future. The present moment is highlighted and given significance, shaped and influenced by our past experiences and our expectations for the future. Without any sense of the future, our existence would be purely mechanical and pointless: with too little regard for the future—just living one day at a time—it becomes monotonous and dull.
Hence it is right that humanity, transcending merely animal scope, should seek to answer questions concerning its origin and destiny, and should regard with intense[ 313] interest every clue to the problems of 'whence' and 'whither.'
Thus, it's fitting that humanity, going beyond just our animal instincts, should try to answer questions about our origin and future, and should closely examine every hint related to the issues of 'where we came from' and 'where we are going.'
It is no doubt possible, as always, to overstep the happy mean, and by absorption in and premature concern with future interests to lose the benefit and the training of this present life. But although we may rightly decide to live with full vigour in the present, and do our duty from moment to moment, yet in order to be full-flavoured and really intelligent beings—not merely with mechanical drift following the line of least resistance—we ought to be aware that there is a future,—a future determined to some extent by action in the present; and it is only reasonable that we should seek to ascertain, roughly and approximately, what sort of future it is likely to be.
It's definitely possible, as always, to go beyond the happy medium and by getting too caught up in or worrying too much about future interests, lose the value and growth of the present life. But even though we can choose to live with full energy in the moment and fulfill our duties as they come, to be well-rounded and truly intelligent beings—not just mechanically going along with whatever is easiest—we should recognize that there is a future—a future that is influenced, to some degree, by what we do now; and it makes sense for us to try to figure out, roughly, what kind of future is likely to unfold.
Inquiry into survival, and into the kind of experience through which we shall all certainly have to go in a few years, is therefore eminently sane, and may be vitally significant. It may colour all our actions, and give a vivid meaning both to human history and to personal experience.
Inquiry into survival and the kinds of experiences we will all definitely face in a few years is completely rational and could be extremely important. It might influence all our actions and provide a clear meaning to both human history and individual experiences.
If death is not extinction, then on the other side of dissolution mental activity must continue, and must be interacting with other mental activity. For the fact of telepathy proves that bodily organs are not absolutely essential to communication of ideas. Mind turns out to be able to act directly on mind, and stimulate it into response by other than material means. Thought does not belong to the material region: although it is able to exert an influence on that region through mechanism provided by vitality. Yet the means whereby it accomplishes the feat are essentially unknown, and the fact that such interaction is possible would be strange and surprising if we were not too much accustomed to it. It is reasonable to suppose that the mind can be more at home, and more directly and more exuberantly active, where the need for such interaction between psychical and physical—or let us more safely and specifically say between mental and material—no longer exists, when the restraining influence of brain and nerve mechanism is removed, and when some of the limitations connected with bodily location in space are ended.
If death isn't the end, then after we dissolve, mental activity must keep going and interacting with other mental activity. The fact that telepathy exists shows that our physical bodies aren’t entirely necessary for sharing ideas. The mind can influence another mind directly and prompt it to respond in ways that don’t rely on material means. Thought isn't tied to the physical realm, though it can impact that realm through the life force. However, how this happens remains mostly unknown, and the ability for such interaction would be quite odd and surprising if we weren't so used to it. It's reasonable to think that the mind can feel more at ease and be more directly and vibrantly active in a space where the need for interaction between the mental and material no longer exists, where the limitations imposed by the brain and nerve systems are lifted, and where some of the restrictions tied to physical location are gone.
Experience must be our guide. To shut the door on[ 314]
actual observation and experiment in this particular
region, because of preconceived ideas and obstinate prejudices,
is an attitude common enough, even among
scientific men; but it is an attitude markedly unscientific.
Certain people have decided that inquiry into the
activities of discarnate mind is futile; some few consider
it impious; many, perhaps wisely mistrusting their own
powers, shrink from entering on such an inquiry. But
if there are any facts to be ascertained, it must be the duty
of some volunteers to try to ascertain them: and for
people having any acquaintance with scientific history to
shut their eyes to facts when definitely announced, and
to forbid investigation or report concerning them on pain
of ostracism,—is to imitate a bygone theological attitude
in a spirit of unintended flattery—a flattery which from
every point of view is eccentric; and likewise to display
an extraordinary lack of humour.
Experience should guide us. Closing ourselves off from actual observation and experiment in this area because of preconceived notions and stubborn biases is a common stance, even among scientists; however, it's a notably unscientific one. Some individuals have decided that exploring the activities of the disembodied mind is useless; a few consider it disrespectful; many, perhaps wisely doubting their own abilities, hesitate to pursue such inquiry. But if there are any facts to uncover, it is the responsibility of some volunteers to try to find them: and for those with any familiarity with scientific history to ignore facts when they are clearly presented and to prohibit investigation or reporting on them under threat of exclusion is to mimic a past theological mindset in a spirit of unintentional flattery—a flattery that is, in every respect, peculiar; and it also reveals a striking lack of humor.
On the Possibility of Prediction
I do not wish to complicate the issue at present by introducing the idea of prognostication or prevision, for I do not understand how anticipation of the future is possible. It is only known to be possible by one of two processes—
I don't want to complicate things right now by bringing up the idea of predicting or anticipating the future, because I don't understand how it's even possible. It's only known to be possible through one of two methods—
(a) Inference—i.e. deduction from a wide knowledge of the present;
(a) Inference—i.e. making conclusions based on a lot of current knowledge;
(b) Planning—i.e. the carrying out of a prearranged scheme.
(b) Planning—i.e. carrying out a set plan.
And these methods must be pressed to the utmost before admitting any other hypothesis.
And these methods must be pushed to their limits before considering any other explanation.
As to the possibility of prevision in general, I do not dogmatise, nor have I a theory wherewith to explain every instance; but I keep an open mind and try to collate and contemplate the facts.
As for the possibility of foresight in general, I don’t make definitive claims, nor do I have a theory that explains every case; but I stay open-minded and try to gather and reflect on the facts.
Scientific prediction is familiar enough; science is always either historic or prophetic (as Dr. Schuster said at Manchester in the British Association Address for 1915), "and history is only prophecy pursued in the negative direction." This thesis is worth illustrating:—That Eclipses can be calculated forwards or backwards is well[ 315] known. A tide-calculating machine, again, which is used to churn out tidal detail in advance by turning a handle, could be as easily run backwards and give past tides if they were wanted; but always on the assumption that no catastrophe, no unforeseen contingency, nothing outside the limits of the data, occurs to interfere with the placid course of phenomena. There must be no dredging or harbour bar operations, for instance, if the tide machine is to be depended on. Free-will is not allowed for, in Astronomy or Physics; nor any interference by living agents.
Scientific prediction is pretty common; science is always either about the past or the future (as Dr. Schuster mentioned in his 1915 British Association Address in Manchester), "and history is just prophecy looked at from the opposite direction." This idea is worth explaining: Eclipses can be calculated forward or backward, which is well-known. A tide-calculating machine, for instance, that produces tidal information in advance by turning a handle could easily be run in reverse to give past tides if needed; but this is always based on the assumption that nothing unexpected happens to disrupt the normal flow of events. There can't be any dredging or harbor modifications, for example, if the tide machine is to be trusted. Free will is not factored in, in Astronomy or Physics; nor is there any interference from living beings.
The real truth is that, except for unforeseen contingencies,
past, present, and future are welded together in a
coherent whole; and to a mind with wider purview, to
whom perhaps hardly anything is unforeseen, there may
be possibilities of inference to an unsuspected extent.
Human character, and action based upon it, may be more
trustworthy and uncapricious than is usually supposed;
and data depending on humanity may be included in a
completer scheme of foreknowledge, without the exercise
of any compulsion. "The past," says Bertrand Russell
eloquently, "does not change or strive; like Duncan,
after life's fitful fever it sleeps well; what was eager and
grasping, what was petty and transitory, has faded away;
the things that were beautiful and eternal shine out of it
like stars in the night." My ignorance will not allow me
to attempt to compose a similar or rather a contrasting
sentence about the future.
The truth is that, except for unexpected events, the past, present, and future are interconnected in a meaningful way; and for someone with a broader perspective, someone for whom hardly anything is unexpected, there can be possibilities for insights to a surprising degree. Human nature and the actions stemming from it may be more reliable and predictable than is usually thought; and information based on human behavior can be included in a more complete understanding of what’s to come, without any coercion. "The past," as Bertrand Russell beautifully puts it, "does not change or strive; like Duncan, after life's fitful fever it sleeps well; what was eager and grasping, what was petty and temporary, has faded away; the things that were beautiful and eternal shine out of it like stars in the night." My lack of knowledge prevents me from trying to write a similar or contrasting sentence about the future.
Reference to Unique Situations
It will be observed that none of those indications or intimations or intuitions which are referred to in a note on page 34, Part I, if they mean anything, raise the difficult question of prevision. In every case the impression was felt after or at the time of the event, though before reception of the news. The only question of possible prevision in the present instance arises in connexion with the 'Faunus' message quoted and discussed in Part II. But even here nothing more than kindly provision, in case anything untoward should happen, need be definitely assumed. Moreover, if the concurrence in time suggests prognostication, the fact that a formidable attempt to advance the English Front at the Ypres salient was probably in prospect in August 1915, though not known to ordinary people in England, and not fully carried out till well on in September, must have been within human knowledge; [ 316] and so would have to be considered telepathically accessible, if that hypothesis is considered preferable to the admission of what Tennyson speaks of as—
It's important to point out that none of the signs, hints, or gut feelings referenced in a note on page 34, Part I, raise the complex issue of foresight if they mean anything at all. In every case, the feeling emerged after or at the time of the event but before receiving the news. The only possible question of foresight here pertains to the 'Faunus' message mentioned and discussed in Part II. Even then, we can only assume it was a kind gesture in case something unexpected happened. Moreover, while the timing might suggest prediction, the fact that there was likely a serious effort to advance the English Front at the Ypres salient, anticipated in August 1915—though not known to the general public in England and not fully carried out until well into September—must have been within human awareness; [ 316] and thus should be considered potentially telepathically accessible if that theory is preferred over acknowledging what Tennyson describes as—
"Such refraction of events
"Such refraction of events
As often rises ere they rise."
As often rises before they do.
Prognostication can hardly be part of the evidence for survival. The two things are not essential to each other; they hardly appear to be connected. But one knows too little about the whole thing to be sure even of this, and I decline to take the responsibility for suppressing any of the facts. I know that Mr. Myers used to express an opinion that certain kinds of prevision would constitute clear and satisfactory evidence of something supernormal, and so attract attention; though the establishment of such a possibility might tend to suggest a kind of higher knowledge, not far short of what might be popularly called omniscience, rather than of merely human survival.
Predicting the future can hardly be seen as evidence for survival. The two concepts are independent and don’t seem to relate closely. However, there’s so much we don’t understand about the entire situation that we can’t be sure, and I refuse to take on the responsibility of concealing any facts. I know that Mr. Myers used to believe that certain types of foresight would offer clear and convincing proof of something beyond the ordinary, drawing attention; however, proposing such a possibility could imply a kind of higher knowledge that feels closer to what people might casually label as omniscience, rather than just human survival.
CHAPTER 6
Mind-Matter Interaction
"Spiritus intus alit, totamque infusa per artus
Mens agitat molem, et magno se corpore miscet."
"Spirit lives within and flows through the entire body
The mind stirs the mass and blends with the great body."
Æneid, vi. 726
Aeneid, vi. 726
LIFE and mind and consciousness do not belong to the material region; whatever they are in themselves, they are manifestly something quite distinct from matter and energy, and yet they utilise the material and dominate it.
LIFE, mind, and consciousness aren't part of the material world; whatever they truly are, they are clearly something completely different from matter and energy, yet they use and control the material.
Matter is arranged and moved by means of energy, but often at the behest of life and mind. Mind does not itself exert force, nor does it enter into the scheme of physics, and yet it indirectly brings about results which otherwise would not have happened. It definitely causes movements and arrangements or constructions of a purposed character. A bird grows a feather, and a bird builds a nest: I doubt if there is less design in the one case than in the other. How life achieves the guidance, how even it accomplishes the movements, is a mystery, but that it does accomplish them is a commonplace of observation. From the motion of a finger to the construction of an aeroplane, there is but a succession of steps. From the growth of a weed to the flight of an eagle,—from a yeast granule at one end, to the human body at the other,—the organising power of life over matter is conspicuous.
Matter is organized and moved through energy, but often under the influence of life and thought. The mind doesn’t exert force directly, nor does it play a role in the laws of physics, yet it still leads to outcomes that wouldn’t have occurred otherwise. It definitely causes movements and arrangements or constructions with intention. A bird grows a feather, and a bird builds a nest: I doubt there’s less design in one than in the other. How life manages this guidance, and how it executes these movements, remains a mystery, but it’s a common observation that it does make them happen. From the movement of a finger to the construction of an airplane, it’s just a series of steps. From the growth of a weed to the flight of an eagle—from a yeast grain at one end to the human body at the other—the organizing power of life over matter is clear.
Who can doubt the supremacy of the spiritual over the material? It is a fact which, illustrated by trivial instances, may be pressed to the most portentous consequences.
Who can question the superiority of the spiritual over the material? It's a reality that, even demonstrated by minor examples, can lead to the most significant outcomes.
If interaction between mind and matter really occurs, and if both are persistent and enduring entities, there is no[ 318] limit to the possibilities under which such interaction may occur—no limit which can be laid down beforehand—we must be guided and instructed solely by experience.
If the interaction between mind and matter actually happens, and if both are lasting and permanent entities, there are no[ 318] limits to the possibilities for such interaction—no limits that we can define in advance—we must rely solely on experience for guidance and instruction.
Whether the results produced are styled miraculous
or not, depends on our knowledge,—our knowledge of all
the powers latent in nature, and a knowledge of all the
intelligences which exist. A savage on his first encounter
with white men must have come into contact with what
to him was supernatural. A letter, a gun, even artificial
teeth, have all aroused superstition; while a telegram
must be obviously miraculous, to anyone intelligent enough
to perceive the wonder. A colony of bees, unused to the
ministrations or interference of man, might puzzle itself
over the provision made for its habitation and activities,
if it had intelligence enough to ponder the matter. So
human beings, if they are open-minded and developed
enough to contemplate all the happenings in which they
are concerned, have been led to recognise guidance;
and they have responded to the perception by the worshipful
attitude of religion. In other words, they have
essentially recognised the existence of a Power transcending
ordinary nature—a Power that may properly be
called supernatural.
Whether the results we see are considered miraculous or not depends on our understanding—our understanding of all the hidden powers in nature and of all the intelligences that exist. A person from an indigenous culture, when encountering white people for the first time, must have felt like they were facing something supernatural. A letter, a gun, or even artificial teeth could all inspire superstition; while a telegram would undeniably seem miraculous to anyone smart enough to see its wonder. A colony of bees, unfamiliar with human influence, might wonder about the arrangements for its home and activities if it had the intelligence to think about it. Similarly, if humans are open-minded and advanced enough to think about everything happening around them, they begin to recognize guidance; and they respond to this recognition with a sense of worship and religion. In other words, they have essentially acknowledged the existence of a Power that goes beyond ordinary nature—a Power that can rightly be called supernatural.
Meaning of the term body
Our experience of bodies here and now is that they are composed of material particles derived from the earth, whether they be bodies animated by vegetable or by animal forms of life. But I take it that the real meaning of the term 'body' is a means of manifestation,—perhaps a physical mode of manifestation adopted by something which without such instrument or organ would be in a different and elusive category. Why should we say that bodies must be made of matter? Surely only because we know of nothing else of which they could be made; but that lack of knowledge is not very efficient as an argument. True, if they were made of anything else they would not be apparent to us now, with our particular evolutionally-derived sense organs; for these only inform us about matter and its properties. Constructions built of Ether would have no chance of appealing to our senses, [ 319] they would not be apparent to us; they would therefore not be what we ordinarily call bodies; at any rate they would not be material bodies. In order to become apparent to us, a psychical or vital entity must enter the material realm, and either clothe itself with, or temporarily assimilate, material particles.
Our experience of bodies right now is that they’re made up of material particles from the earth, whether those are living things like plants or animals. But I think the real meaning of the word 'body' is a means of manifestation—maybe a physical way of showing itself adopted by something that, without such a tool or organ, would belong to a different and harder-to-understand category. Why do we say that bodies must be made of matter? Probably just because we don't know of anything else they could be made of, but that lack of knowledge isn't a strong argument. True, if they were made of anything else, they wouldn’t be noticeable to us right now, with our specific evolutionary-developed senses; these only tell us about matter and its properties. Structures made of Ether wouldn’t be able to appeal to our senses, [ 319] they wouldn’t be visible to us; in that case, they wouldn’t be what we usually call bodies; at least, they wouldn’t be material bodies. To be noticeable to us, a psychic or living entity must enter the material world and either cover itself with, or temporarily blend into, material particles.
It may be that etherial bodies do not exist; the burden of proof rests upon those who conceive of their possible existence; but we are bound to admit that even if they did exist, they would make no impression on our senses. Hence if there are any intelligences in another order of existence interlocked with ours, and if they can in any sense be supposed to have bodies at all, those bodies must be made either of Ether or of something equally intangible to us in our present condition.[36]
It’s possible that ethereal bodies don’t exist; the responsibility to prove their existence lies with those who think they might. However, we have to acknowledge that even if they did exist, they wouldn’t affect our senses. So, if there are any intelligences in a different realm of existence connected to ours, and if we can assume they have bodies at all, those bodies must be made of ether or something just as intangible to us in our current state.[36]
Yet, though intangible and elusive, we have reason to know that Ether is substantial enough,—far more substantial indeed than matter, which turns out to be a rare and filmy insertion in, or modification of, the Ether of Space; and a different set of sense organs might make the Ether eclipse matter in availability and usefulness. In my book The Ether of Space this thesis is elaborated from a purely physical point of view.
Yet, even though it's hard to define and understand, we have reason to believe that Ether is substantial enough—much more substantial than matter, which actually seems to be a rare and thin part of, or change within, the Ether of Space. If we had a different set of sensory organs, we might find Ether to be more accessible and useful than matter. In my book The Ether of Space, this argument is discussed in depth from a purely physical perspective.
I wish, however, to make no assertion concerning the
possible psychical use of the Ether of Space. Anything
of that kind must be speculative; the only bodies we
now know of in actual fact are material bodies, and we
must be guided by facts. Yet we must not shut the door
prematurely on other possibilities; and we can remember
that inspired writers have sometimes contemplated what
they term a spiritual body.
I don't want to make any claims about the possible mental use of the Ether of Space. Anything along those lines would be just speculation; the only things we really know about are physical bodies, and we need to stick to the facts. However, we shouldn't dismiss other possibilities too quickly; we can recall that some inspired writers have occasionally thought about what they call a spiritual body.
Body permanence
But why should anyone suppose a body of some kind always necessary? Why should they assume a perpetual sort of dualism about existence? The reason is that we have no knowledge of any other form of animate existence; and it may be claimed as legitimate to assume that the association between life and matter here on the planet has a real and vital significance, that without such an episode of earth life we should be less than we are, and that the relation is typical of something real and permanent.
But why should anyone think that some kind of physical body is always needed? Why should they believe in a constant duality in existence? The reason is that we have no knowledge of any other type of living existence; and it can be argued that it’s valid to assume the connection between life and matter here on Earth has real and important significance, and that without this experience of earthly life, we would be less than we are, and that this relationship reflects something real and lasting.
"Such use may lie in blood and breath."—Tennyson
"Such use may be found in blood and breath."—Tennyson
Why matter should be thus useful to spirit and even to life it is not easy to say. It may be that by the interaction of two things better and newer results can always be obtained than was possible for one alone. There are analogies enough for that. Do we not find that genius seems to require the obstruction or the aid of matter for its full development? The artist must enjoy being able to compel refractory material to express his meaning. Didactic writings are apt to emphasise the obstructiveness of matter; but that may be because its usefulness seems self-evident. Our limbs, and senses, and bodily faculties generally, are surely of momentous service; microscopes and telescopes and laboratory instruments, and machinery generally, are only extensions of them. Tools to the man who can use them:—orchestra to the musician, lathe or theodolite to the engineer, books and records to the historian, even though not much more than pen and paper is needed by the poet or the mathematician.
Why matter is this useful to the mind and even to life is hard to explain. It might be that when two things interact, they can produce better and newer results than one could achieve alone. There are plenty of examples of this. Don’t we see that genius often needs the challenge or support of matter to fully develop? An artist surely enjoys being able to manipulate stubborn materials to convey his ideas. Instructional texts often highlight how matter can be a hindrance, but maybe that’s because its usefulness seems obvious. Our limbs, senses, and physical abilities are undeniably valuable; tools like microscopes, telescopes, lab equipment, and machinery are just extensions of them. They are tools for those who know how to use them: an orchestra for a musician, a lathe or theodolite for an engineer, books and records for a historian, even though a poet or mathematician might only need pen and paper.
But our bodily organs are much more than any artificial tools can be, they are part of our very being. The body is part of the constitution of man. We are not spirit or soul alone,—though it is sometimes necessary to emphasise the fact that we are soul at all,—we are in truth soul and body together. And so I think we shall always be; though our bodies need not always be composed [ 321] of earthly particles. Matter is the accidental part: there is an essential and more permanent part, and the permanent part must survive.
But our bodily organs are much more than any artificial tools can be; they are part of our very existence. The body is an essential part of being human. We are not just spirit or soul—though it's sometimes necessary to emphasize that we are indeed a soul—we are, in reality, both soul and body combined. And I believe we will always remain this way, even though our bodies don't always have to be made up of earthly materials. Matter is just the temporary part; there's an essential and more enduring aspect, and that permanent part must continue to exist.
This is the strength, as I have said elsewhere and will not now at any length repeat, of the sacramental claims and practices of religion. Forms and customs which appeal to the body are a legitimate part of the whole; and while some natures derive most benefit from the exclusively psychical and spiritual essence, others probably do well to prevent the more sensuous and more puzzling concomitants from falling into disuse.
This is the strength, as I've mentioned before and won't elaborate on now, of the sacramental claims and practices of religion. The forms and customs that engage the body are a valid part of the whole; while some people gain the most from purely mental and spiritual aspects, others likely benefit from keeping the more sensory and complex elements from being neglected.
Footnotes
Footnotes
[36] That a great poet should have represented the meeting between the still incarnate Æneas and his discarnate father Anchises as a bodily disappointment, is consistent:—
"Ter conatus ibi collo dare brachia circum;
"Trying to put his arms around her neck there;
Ter frustra comprensa manus effugit imago,
For nothing, he grasps, but the image slips away.
Par levibus ventis, volucrique simillima somno."
Like light winds, and very much like a fleeting dream.
Æneid, vi. 700
Æneid, vi. 700
It may be said that what is intangible ought to be invisible; but that does not follow. The Ether is a medium for vision, not for touch. Ether and Ether may interact, just as matter and matter interact; but interaction between Ether and matter is peculiarly elusive.
It could be argued that what’s not physical should be unseen; however, that’s not always true. Ether is a medium for sight, not touch. Ether can interact with Ether, just like matter can with matter; but the interaction between Ether and matter is particularly hard to grasp.
CHAPTER 7
'Body Resurrection'
"Never the spirit was born; the spirit shall cease to be never."
Edwin Arnold
"Spirit was never born; the spirit will never cease to exist."
Edwin Arnold
IN the whole unknown drama of the soul the episode of bodily existence must have profound significance. Matter cannot only be obstructive, even usefully obstructive,—by which is meant the kind of obstruction which stimulates to effort and trains for power, like the hurdles in an obstacle race,—it must be auxiliary too. Whatever may be the case with external matter, the body itself is certainly an auxiliary, so long as it is in health and strength; and it gives opportunity for the development of the soul in new and unexpected ways—ways in which but for earth life its practice would be deficient. This it is which makes calamity of too short a life.
IN the entire unknown drama of the soul, the episode of physical existence must hold deep significance. Matter can be more than just an obstacle, even a helpful one—by which I mean the kind of obstacle that encourages effort and builds strength, like the hurdles in an obstacle race—it must also be supportive. Regardless of how external matter behaves, the body itself is definitely a support, as long as it is healthy and strong; and it offers opportunities for the soul's development in new and unexpected ways—ways in which, without earthly life, its practice would be lacking. This is what makes the tragedy of a life cut too short.
But let us not be over-despondent about the tragedy of the present. It may be that the concentrated training and courageous facing of fate which in most cases must have accompanied voluntary entry into a dangerous war, compensates in intensity what it lacks in duration, and that the benefit of bodily terrestrial life is not so much lost by violent death of that kind as might at first appear. Yet even with some such assurance, the spectacle of thousands of youths in full vigour and joy of life having their earthly future violently wrenched from them, amid scenes of grim horror and nerve-wracking noise and confusion, is one which cannot and ought not to be regarded with equanimity. It is a bad and unnatural truncation of an important part of each individual career, a part which might have done much to develop faculties and enlarge experience.
But let’s not be too gloomy about the tragedy of the present. It’s possible that the intense training and brave confrontation of fate that usually come with willingly entering a dangerous war make up for what is lacking in duration, and that the value of living a physical life isn’t entirely lost due to such violent deaths as it may seem at first. Still, even with some reassurance, witnessing thousands of young people in full strength and joy having their future violently snatched away from them amidst scenes of grim horror and overwhelming noise and chaos is something that can’t and shouldn’t be seen with indifference. It’s a harsh and unnatural interruption of an important part of each person’s journey, a part that could have greatly developed their abilities and broadened their experiences.
Meanwhile, the very fact that we lament so sincerely this dire and man-caused fate serves to illustrate the view we inevitably take that the earth-body is not only a means of manifestation but is a real servant of the soul,—that flesh can in some sense help spirit as spirit can undoubtedly help flesh,—and that while its very weaknesses are serviceable and stimulating, its strength is exhilarating and superb. The faculties and powers developed in the animal kingdom during all the millions of years of evolution, and now inherited for better for worse by man, are not to be despised. Those therefore who are able to think that some of the essential elements or attributes of the body are carried forward into a higher life—quite irrespective of the manifestly discarded material particles which never were important to the body, for they were always in perpetual flux as individual molecules—those, I say, who think that the value derived and acquired through the body survives, and becomes a permanent possession of the soul, may well feel that they can employ the mediæval phrase "resurrection of the body" to express their perception. They may feel that it is a truth which needs emphasising all the more from its lack of obviousness. These old phrases, consecrated by long usage, and familiar to all the saints, though their early and superficial meaning is evidently superseded, may be found to have an inner and spiritual significance which when once grasped should be kept in memory, and brought before attention, and sustained against challenge: in no case should they be lightly or hastily discarded.
Meanwhile, the fact that we genuinely mourn this terrible fate caused by humans shows that we see the physical body not just as a way to express ourselves but as a true supporter of the soul. Flesh can help the spirit just as the spirit can help the flesh, and while its weaknesses can be useful and motivating, its strengths can be uplifting and exceptional. The abilities and strengths that evolved in the animal kingdom over millions of years, which we now inherit, should not be overlooked. Therefore, those who believe that some essential aspects or qualities of the body carry on into a higher existence—regardless of the material parts that are obviously discarded and were never really significant because they were always changing—can feel justified in using the old phrase "resurrection of the body" to describe their understanding. They may sense that this is a truth that needs emphasizing because it's not obvious. These old phrases, made sacred by long use and familiar to all saints, may have an inner and spiritual meaning that, once understood, should be remembered, highlighted, and defended against criticism: they should never be thrown away lightly or hastily.
It seems not altogether fanciful to trace some similarity or analogy, between the ideas about inheritance usually associated with the name of Weismann, and the inheritance or conveyance of bodily attributes, or of powers acquired through the body, into the future life of the soul.
It doesn’t seem too far-fetched to draw a comparison between the ideas about inheritance typically linked to Weismann and the passing down of physical traits or abilities gained through the body into the soul's future life.
When considering whether anything, or what, is likely to be permanent, the answer turns upon whether or not the soul has been affected. Mere bodily accidents of course are temporary; loss of an arm or an eye is no more carried on as a permanent disfigurement than it is transmissible to offspring. But, apart from accidents which may happen to the body, there are some evil things—rendered accessible by and definitely associated with the [ 324] body—which assault and hurt the soul. And the effect of these is transmissible, and may become permanent. Habits which write their mark on the countenance—whether the writing be good or bad—are not likely to take effect on the body alone. And in this sense also future existence may be either glorified or stained, for a time, by persistence of bodily traits,—by this kind of "resurrection of the body."
When thinking about what might last forever, the answer depends on whether the soul has been impacted. Physical injuries, of course, are temporary; losing an arm or an eye is not a lasting scar nor can it be passed down to children. However, outside of physical accidents that can happen to the body, there are some harmful things—linked to and definitely connected with the [ 324] body—that attack and damage the soul. The effects of these can be passed on and could become lasting. Habits that leave their mark on a person's face—whether that mark is positive or negative—aren't likely to only affect the body. In this way, future existence can be either enhanced or tainted over time due to the persistence of physical characteristics—making a kind of "resurrection of the body."
Furthermore it is found that although bodily marks, scars and wounds, are clearly not of soul-compelling and permanent character, yet for purposes of identification, and when re-entering the physical atmosphere for the purpose of communication with friends, these temporary marks are re-assumed; just as the general appearance at the remembered age, and details connected with clothes and little unessential tricks of manner, may—in some unknown sense—be assumed too.
Furthermore, it is found that although physical marks, scars, and wounds are clearly not permanent or essential to the soul, for the sake of identification and when returning to the physical world to communicate with friends, these temporary marks are taken on again; just like the overall appearance at a remembered age, along with details about clothing and little unimportant habits, which may—in some unknown way—be adopted as well.
And it is to this category that I would attribute the curious interest still felt in old personal possessions. They are attended to and recalled, not for what by a shopman is called their 'value,' but because they furnish useful and welcome evidence of identity; they are like the pièces de conviction brought up at a trial, they bear silent witness to remembered fact. And in so far as the disposal or treatment of them by survivors is evidence of the regard in which their late owner was held, it is unlikely that they should have suddenly become matters of complete indifference. Nothing human, in the sense of affecting the human spirit, can be considered foreign to a friendly and sympathetic soul, even though his new preoccupations and industries and main activities are of a different order. It appears as if, for the few moments of renewed earthly intercourse, the newer surroundings shrink for a time into the background. They are remembered, but not vividly. Indeed it seems difficult to live in both worlds at once, especially after the life-long practice here of living almost exclusively in one. Those whose existence here was coloured or ennobled by wider knowledge and higher aims seem likely to have the best chance of conveying instructive information across the boundary; though their developed powers may be of such still higher value, that only from a sense of duty or in a missionary spirit can they be [ 325] expected to absent them from felicity while in order to help the brethren.
And it's to this category that I would attribute the unusual interest still shown in old personal belongings. They are cherished and remembered, not for what a shopkeeper would call their 'value,' but because they provide useful and welcome proof of identity; they are like the pièces de conviction presented in a trial, silently attesting to remembered facts. As much as the way survivors handle or dispose of them reflects the esteem in which the deceased was held, it's unlikely that these items have suddenly become completely insignificant. Nothing human, in the sense of affecting the human spirit, can be considered irrelevant to a friendly and compassionate person, even if their new concerns and activities are of a different nature. It seems that for those brief moments of renewed earthly connection, the new surroundings fade into the background. They are recalled, but not vividly. In fact, it seems hard to navigate both worlds at the same time, especially after a lifetime of primarily living in one. Those whose lives here were enriched by broader knowledge and higher aspirations seem likely to have the best chance of sharing valuable insights across the boundary; although their enhanced abilities might be of such greater value that only out of a sense of duty or a missionary spirit can they be expected to leave their joy in order to assist others. [ 325]
Quotation of a passage from Plotinus seems here permissible:—
Quotation of a passage from Plotinus seems acceptable here:—
"Souls which once were in men, when they leave the body, need not cease from benefiting mankind. Some indeed, in addition to other services, give occult messages (oracular replies), thus proving by their own case that other souls also survive" (Enn. IV. vii. 15).
"Souls that were once in people, when they leave the body, don’t have to stop helping humanity. Some, in addition to other assistance, provide hidden messages (or prophetic answers), thereby demonstrating through their own experience that other souls also continue to exist." (Enn. IV. vii. 15).
As a digression of some importance, I venture to say that claims of thoughtless and pertinacious people upon the charitable and eminent, even here, are often excessive: it is to be hoped that such claims become less troublesome and less effective hereafter; but it is a hope without much foundation. Remonstrances are useless, however, for only the more thoughtful and those most deserving of help are likely to attend to remonstrances. Nevertheless—useless or not—it behoves one to make them. We are indeed taught that in exceptional cases there may ultimately supervene such an extraordinary elevation of soul that no trouble is too great, and no appeal is unheard. But still, even in the Loftiest case of all, the episode of having passed through a human body contributes to the power of sympathising with and aiding ordinary humanity.
As a somewhat important aside, I want to point out that the demands of thoughtless and persistent people on the generous and influential can be excessive, even here. It’s to be hoped that these demands will become less annoying and less impactful in the future; however, it’s a hope that lacks strong support. Complaints are pointless because only those who are more thoughtful and truly deserving of help are likely to pay attention to them. Still—pointless or not—it’s important to make them. We are taught that in some exceptional cases, there may eventually arise such an extraordinary generosity of spirit that no effort is too great, and no plea goes unheard. Yet still, even in the most elevated case, going through human experiences enhances one’s ability to sympathize with and assist regular people.
CHAPTER 8
Mind and brain
"For nothing is that errs from law."—Tennyson
"For nothing goes against the law."—Tennyson
It is sometimes thought that memory is located in the brain; and undoubtedly there must be some physiological process at work in the brain when any incident of memory is recalled and either uttered or written. But it does not at all follow that memory itself is located in the brain; though there must be some easier channel, or some already prepared path, which enables an idea to be translated from the general mental reservoir into consciousness, with clarity and power sufficient to stimulate the necessary nerves and muscles into a condition adequate for reproduction.
It’s often believed that memory is found in the brain; and it’s true that there must be some physical process happening in the brain whenever we recall a memory and either say it out loud or write it down. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that memory itself is actually in the brain; there must be some easier pathway, or some pre-existing route, that allows an idea to move from the overall mental storehouse into our awareness, with enough clarity and strength to activate the nerves and muscles needed for reproduction.
Sometimes in order to remember a thing, one writes it in a note-book; and the memory may be said to be in the note-book about as accurately as it may be said to be in the brain. A physical process has put it in the note-book; there is a physical configuration persisting there; and when a sort of reverse physical process is repeated, it can be got back into consciousness by simply what we call 'looking' at the book and reading. But surely the real memory is in the mind all the time, and the deposit in the note-book is a mere detent for calling it out or for making it easy of recovery. In order to communicate any information we must focus attention on it; and whether we focus attention on a part of the brain or on a page of a note-book matters very little; the attention itself is a mental process, not a physiological one, though it has a physiological concomitant.
Sometimes to remember something, people write it down in a notebook; and you could say that the memory exists in the notebook just as accurately as it does in the brain. A physical action has placed it in the notebook; there's a physical structure that remains there; and when a sort of reverse physical action occurs, it can be brought back into consciousness simply by what we call 'looking' at the notebook and reading it. But surely the actual memory is in the mind all along, and the entry in the notebook is just a tool for retrieving it or for making it easier to access. To communicate any information, we need to focus our attention on it; and whether we concentrate on a part of the brain or on a page of a notebook is not that important; the act of attention itself is a mental process, not a physiological one, even though it has a physiological counterpart.
This is an important matter, the keystone in fact of
our problem about the connexion between mind and
matter, and I propose to amplify its treatment further;
for this is an unavoidably controversial portion of the
book.
This is an important issue, the key element of our problem regarding the connection between mind and matter, and I plan to expand on this topic further; because this part of the book is inevitably controversial.
The Memory Seat
I am familiar with all the usual analogies drawn between organic habit and memory on the one hand, and the more ready repetition of physical processes by inorganic material on the other. Imperfectly elastic springs, for instance, which show reminiscences of previous bendings or twistings by their subsequent unwindings; and cogs which wear into smooth running by repetition; are examples of this kind. A violin which by long practice becomes more musical in tone, is another; or a path which by being often traversed becomes easier to the feet. A flower-bed recently altered in shape, by being partly grassed over, is liable to exhibit its former outline by aid of bulbs and other half-forgotten growths which come up through the grass in the old pattern.
I know all the typical comparisons made between how living things develop habits and memories, and how non-living materials can more easily repeat physical processes. For example, imperfectly elastic springs that show signs of their previous bends or twists when they unwind later, and gears that run smoothly through repetition, are good examples of this. A violin that sounds better with long practice is another one; or a path that becomes easier to walk on the more it’s used. A flowerbed that’s recently reshaped, especially if it’s partly covered with grass, might still show its old outline from bulbs and other plants that push through the grass in the same pattern as before.
This last is a striking example of apparent memory, not indeed in the inorganic but in the unconscious world; where indeed it is prevalent, for every one must recognise the memory of animals—there can be no doubt of that. And it would seem that a kind of race-memory must be invoked to account for many surprising cases of instinct; of which the building of specific birds' nests, and the accurate pecking of a newly-hatched chicken, are among the stock instances. No experience can be lodged in the brain of the newly-hatched!
This last point is a clear example of apparent memory, not in the inorganic but in the unconscious realm; where it is indeed common, as everyone must acknowledge the memory of animals—there's no doubt about it. It seems that a type of collective memory might need to be considered to explain many surprising instances of instinct; such as the construction of specific birds' nests and the precise pecking of a newly-hatched chick, which are among the typical examples. No experience can be stored in the brain of the newly-hatched!
That some sort of stored facility should exist in the adult brain, is in no way surprising; and that there is some physical or physiological concomitant of actual remembrance is plain; but that is a very different thing from asserting that memory itself, or any kind of consciousness, is located in the brain; though truly without the aid of the brain it is, as far as this planet is concerned, latent and inaccessible.
That some kind of storage facility exists in the adult brain is hardly surprising; it's obvious that there is some physical or physiological aspect related to actual memories. However, that's very different from claiming that memory itself, or any form of consciousness, is located in the brain. Though, without the brain's help, it is, as far as this planet is concerned, dormant and unreachable.
Plotinus puts the matter in an interesting but perhaps rather too extreme form:—
Plotinus presents the issue in an intriguing, but maybe overly dramatic way:—
"As to memory, the body is an impediment ... the unstable and fluctuating nature of the body makes for oblivion not for memory. Body is a veritable River of Lethe. Memory belongs to the soul" (Enn. IV. iii. 26).
"When it comes to memory, the body interferes ... the body's unstable and ever-changing nature results in forgetfulness, not in memory. The body is like a genuine River of Lethe. Memory is a function of the soul" (Enn. IV. iii. 26).
The actual reproduction or remembrance of a fact—the demonstration or realisation of memory—undoubtedly [ 328] depends on brain and muscle mechanism; but memory itself turns out to be essentially mental, and is found to exist apart from the bodily mechanism which helped originally to receive and store the impression. And though without that same or some equivalent mechanism we cannot get at it, so that it cannot be displayed to others, yet in my experience it turns out not to be absolutely necessary to use actually the same instrument for its reproduction as was responsible for its deposition: though undoubtedly to use the same is easier and helpful. In the early Edison phonographs the same instrument had to be used for both reception and reproduction; but now a record can readily be transferred from one instrument to another. This may be regarded as a rough mechanical analogy to the telepathic or telergic process whereby a psychic reservoir of memory can be partially tapped through another organism.
The actual reproduction or recollection of a fact—the demonstration or realization of memory—definitely depends on brain and muscle mechanisms; however, memory itself turns out to be fundamentally mental and exists separately from the physical mechanisms that originally helped receive and store the impression. Although we can't access it without that same or a similar mechanism, which means it can't be shown to others, in my experience, it turns out that it's not absolutely necessary to use the same tool for its reproduction as was used for its initial storage: although it is undoubtedly easier and more helpful to do so. In the early Edison phonographs, the same device was required for both receiving and reproducing sound; but now, a record can easily be transferred from one device to another. This can be seen as a rough mechanical analogy to the telepathic or telergic process whereby a psychic reservoir of memory can be partially accessed through another organism.
But, apart from any consideration of what may be regarded as doubtful or uncertain, there are some facts about the relation of brain to consciousness, which, though universally admitted, are frequently misinterpreted. Injure the brain, and consciousness is lost. 'Lost' is the right word—not 'destroyed.' Repair the lesion, and consciousness may be restored, i.e. normal manifestation of consciousness can once more occur. It is the display of consciousness, in all such cases, that we mean when we speak of the effect of brain injury; the utilisation of bodily organs is necessary for its exhibition. If the bodily organs do not exist, or are too damaged, no normal manifestation is possible. That is the fact which may be misinterpreted.
But, aside from any doubts or uncertainties, there are some facts about the relationship between the brain and consciousness that, while generally accepted, are often misunderstood. If the brain is harmed, consciousness is lost. 'Lost' is the right term—not 'destroyed.' If the damage is repaired, consciousness can be restored, meaning that normal expressions of consciousness can happen again. It is the display of consciousness that we refer to when discussing the impact of brain injury; the functioning of bodily organs is essential for its demonstration. If the bodily organs are absent or too damaged, no normal expression is possible. That's the fact that can be misunderstood.
In general we may say, with fair security, that no receptivity to physical phenomena exists save through sense-organ, nerve, and brain; nor any initiation of physical phenomena, save through brain, nerve, and muscle. Apart from physical phenomena consciousness is isolated and inaccessible: we have no right to say that it is non-existent. In ordinary usage it is not customary or necessary to be always harping on this completer aspect of things: it is only necessary when misunderstanding has arisen from uniformly inaccurate, or rather unguarded, modes of expression.
In general, we can confidently say that there’s no ability to perceive physical phenomena without our sense organs, nerves, and brain; nor can we initiate physical phenomena without our brain, nerves, and muscles. Aside from physical phenomena, consciousness is isolated and unreachable: we can’t claim that it doesn’t exist. In everyday conversation, it’s not common or needed to constantly emphasize this fuller perspective: it’s only important when misunderstandings come from consistently inaccurate, or rather careless, ways of speaking.
In an excellent lecture by Dr. Mott on "The Effects of High Explosives upon the Central Nervous System," I find this sentence:—
In a great lecture by Dr. Mott about "The Effects of High Explosives on the Central Nervous System," I came across this sentence:—
"It is known that a continuous supply of oxygen is essential for consciousness."
"It is known that a steady supply of oxygen is essential for awareness."
What is intended is clear enough, but analysed strictly this assertion goes far beyond what is known. We do not really know that oxygen, or any form of matter, has anything to do with consciousness: all that we know, and all that Dr. Mott really means to say, I presume, is that without a supply of oxygen consciousness gives no physical sign.
What is meant is pretty clear, but if you look at it closely, this statement goes way beyond what we actually know. We don't really know that oxygen, or any type of matter, is connected to consciousness: all we know, and what Dr. Mott probably really means to say, is that without oxygen, consciousness doesn’t show any physical signs.
Partial interruptions of physical manifestations of consciousness well illustrate this: as, for instance, when speech-centres of the brain alone are affected. If in such case we had to depend on mouth-muscle alone we should say that consciousness had departed, and might even think that it was non-existent; but the arm-muscle may remain under brain control, and by intelligent writing can show that consciousness is there all the time, and that it is only inhibited from one of the specially easy modes of manifestation. In some cases the inhibition may be complete,—from such cases we do not learn much; but when it is only partial we learn a good deal.
Partial interruptions of physical expressions of consciousness illustrate this well: for example, when only the speech centers of the brain are affected. If in such a case we had to rely only on the mouth muscles, we might think that consciousness has vanished, and might even believe it doesn’t exist; however, the arm muscles can still function under brain control, and through intelligent writing, they can demonstrate that consciousness is present all the time, merely inhibited from one of the easier ways of expressing itself. In some instances, the inhibition might be complete—these cases don’t teach us much; but when it’s only partial, we learn quite a bit.
I quote again from Dr. Mott, omitting for brevity the detailed description of certain surgical war-cases, under his care, which precedes the following explanatory interjection and summary:—
I quote again from Dr. Mott, leaving out the detailed description of specific surgical war cases under his care, which comes before the following explanatory note and summary:—
"Why should these men, whose silent thoughts are perfect, be unable to speak? They comprehend all that is said to them unless they are deaf; but it is quite clear that [even] in these cases their internal language is unaffected, for they are able to express their thoughts and judgments perfectly well by writing, even if they are deaf. The mutism is therefore not due to an intellectual defect, nor is it due to volitional inhibition of language in silent thought. Hearing, the primary incitation to vocalisation and speech, is usually unaffected, yet they are unable to speak; they cannot even whisper, cough, whistle, or laugh aloud. Many who are unable to speak voluntarily yet call out in their dreams expressions they have used in trench warfare and battle. Sometimes this is followed by return [ 330] of speech, but more often not. One man continually shouted out in his sleep, but he did not recover voluntary speech or power of phonation till eight months after admission to the hospital for shell-shock."
"Why can’t these men, whose silent thoughts are so clear, express themselves? They understand everything said to them unless they’re deaf; however, even in those cases, their internal language remains intact, allowing them to perfectly express their thoughts and judgments through writing, even if they can’t hear. Their inability to speak is not due to a lack of intelligence, nor is it from a decision not to use language in their silent thoughts. Hearing, which usually triggers vocalization and speech, is generally unaffected, yet they still can’t speak; they can't even whisper, cough, whistle, or laugh out loud. Many who can't speak still shout out in their dreams things they've said during trench warfare and battle. Sometimes this leads to a return of speech, but more often it doesn’t. One man shouted in his sleep for a long time, but he didn’t regain voluntary speech or the ability to make sounds until eight months after being admitted to the hospital for shell-shock."
Very well, all this interesting experience serves among other things to illustrate our simple but occasionally overlooked thesis. For it is through physical phenomena that normally we apprehend, here and now; and it is by aid of physical phenomena that we convey to others our wishes, our impressions, our ideas, and our memories. Dislocate the physical from the psychical, and communication ceases. Restore the connexion, in however imperfect a form, and once more incipient communication may become possible again.
Very well, all this interesting experience serves, among other things, to illustrate our simple but sometimes overlooked point. It's through physical phenomena that we usually understand things in the present moment; and it's with the help of physical phenomena that we express our desires, feelings, ideas, and memories to others. If we disconnect the physical from the mental, communication stops. If we reconnect them, even in an imperfect way, the possibility of communication can arise again.
That is the rationale of the process of human intercourse. Do we understand it? No. Do we understand even how our own mind operates on our own body? No. We know for a fact that it does.
That’s the reasoning behind how people interact with each other. Do we get it? No. Do we even understand how our own mind affects our own body? No. We do know for sure that it does.
Do we understand how a mind can with difficulty and imperfectly operate another body submitted to its temporary guidance and control? No. Do we know for a fact that it does? Aye, that is the question—a question of evidence. I myself answer the question affirmatively; not on theoretical grounds—far from that—but on a basis of straightforward experience. Others, if they allow themselves to take the trouble to get the experience, will come to the same conclusion.
Do we understand how a mind can struggle and imperfectly control another body that it's temporarily guiding? No. Do we actually know that it can? Yes, that’s the real question—a question of evidence. I personally answer that question with a yes; not based on theory—far from it—but on simple experience. Others, if they take the time to seek out that experience, will arrive at the same conclusion.
Will they do so best by allowing their own bodies or brains to be utilised? No, that seems not even the best, and certainly not the only way. It may not, for the majority of people, be a possible way. The sensitive or medium who serves us, by putting his or her bodily mechanism at our disposal, is not likely to be best informed concerning the nature of the process. Mediums have perhaps but little conscious information to give us concerning their powers; we must learn from what they do, not from what they say. The outside observer, the experimenter, whose senses are alert all the time and who continues fully conscious without special receptivity or any peculiar power of his own, is in a better position to note and judge what is happening,—at least from the normal and scientific point of view. Let us be as cautious [ 331] and critical, aye and as sceptical as we like, but let us also be patient and persevering and fair; do not let us start with a preconceived notion of what is possible and what is impossible in this almost unexplored universe; let us only be willing to learn and be guided by facts, not by dogmas; and gradually the truth will permeate our understanding and make for itself a place in our minds as secure as in any other branch of observational science.
Will they do this best by using their own bodies or minds? No, that doesn't seem to be the best, and definitely not the only way. For most people, it might not even be a possible way. The medium who helps us by using their physical abilities probably doesn't have the best understanding of the process. Mediums likely have little conscious knowledge to share about their abilities; we should learn from their actions, not their words. The outside observer or experimenter, who is fully aware and alert all the time without having special receptivity or unique powers, is better positioned to notice and judge what’s happening—from a normal and scientific perspective. Let’s be as cautious and critical, yes, and as skeptical as we want, but let’s also be patient, persistent, and fair. Let’s not start with preconceived ideas about what is possible or impossible in this largely unexplored realm. Let’s only be willing to learn and be guided by facts, not by beliefs; and gradually the truth will infiltrate our understanding, finding a secure place in our minds just like in any other field of observational science.
CHAPTER 9
Life and Awareness
The limitation of scope which eminent Professors of a certain school of modern science have laid down for themselves is forcibly expressed by one of the ablest of their champions thus:—
The restriction on their scope that prominent professors from a certain branch of modern science have established for themselves is clearly stated by one of their most skilled advocates as follows:—
"No sane man has ever pretended, since science became a definite body of doctrine, that we know or ever can hope to know or conceive the possibility of knowing whence the mechanism has come, why it is there, whither it is going, or what may be beyond and beside it which our senses are incapable of appreciating. These things are not 'explained' by science and never can be."—Sir E. Ray Lankester.
"No reasonable person has ever said, since science became a clear set of principles, that we know or will ever be able to know, or even hope to understand, where the mechanism came from, why it exists, where it’s going, or what might be beyond it that we can't perceive. Science does not 'explain' these issues and never will."—Sir E. Ray Lankester.
I should myself hesitate to promulgate such a markedly non-possumus and ignorabimus statement concerning the scope of physical science, even as narrowly and popularly understood; but it illuminates the position taken up by those savants who are commonly known as Materialists, and explains their expressed though non-personal hostility to other scientific men who seek to exceed the boundaries laid down, and investigate things beyond the immediate range of the senses.
I would personally be hesitant to put forward such a clearly non-possumus and ignorabimus statement about the limits of physical science, even as it's commonly understood; but it highlights the stance taken by those savants typically referred to as Materialists, and explains their stated yet impersonal opposition to other scientists who aim to go beyond the established boundaries and explore things beyond what can be sensed directly.
Eliminating the future tense from the statement, however, I can agree with it. The instrument of translation from the mental to the physical, and back from the physical to the mental, is undoubtedly the brain, but as to how the translation is accomplished, I venture to say, we have not the inkling of an idea. Nevertheless, hints which may gradually lead towards a partial understanding of psycho-physical processes may be gained by study of exceptional cases: for such study is often more instructive than continued scrutiny of the merely normal.
Eliminating the future tense from the statement, however, I can agree with it. The brain is undeniably the tool that translates from the mental to the physical, and back from the physical to the mental, but as for how this translation happens, we truly have no clue. Still, we can gather hints that might gradually lead us to a partial understanding of psycho-physical processes by studying exceptional cases because such studies are often more informative than simply observing what is normal.
The fact of human consciousness, though it raises the [ 333] problem to a high degree of conspicuousness, by no means exhausts the difficulty; for it is one which faces us in connexion with every form of life. The association of life with matter, and of mind with life, are problems of similar order, and a glimmering of understanding of the one may be expected to throw light upon the other. But until we know more of the method by which the simplest and most familiar psycho-physical interaction occurs—until we know enough to see how the gulf between two apparently different Modes of Being is bridged—it is safest to observe and accumulate facts, and to be very chary of making more than the most tentative and cautious of working hypotheses. For to frame even a tentative hypothesis, of any helpful kind, may require some clue which as yet we do not possess.
The reality of human consciousness, while making the problem very obvious, doesn't solve the issue; it's something we face with every type of life. The connection between life and matter, along with the relationship between mind and life, are similar issues, and having some insight into one could help us understand the other better. However, until we learn more about how the simplest and most common mind-body interactions happen—until we understand how to bridge the divide between two seemingly different ways of being—it's best to observe and gather facts, and to be very careful about forming any working hypotheses. Even coming up with a tentative hypothesis that is actually useful may require insights that we don’t have yet.
I have been struck by the position taken by Dr. Chalmers Mitchell in his notable small book Evolution and the War, the early chapters of which, on Germany of the past and present, I would like unreservedly to commend to the reader. Indeed, commendation of a friendly and non-patronising kind may well extend to the whole book, although it must be admitted that here and there mere exposition of Darwinism is suspended, and difficult and debatable questions are touched upon.
I have been impressed by the viewpoint expressed by Dr. Chalmers Mitchell in his well-known small book Evolution and the War. I wholeheartedly recommend the early chapters, which discuss Germany's past and present, to the reader. In fact, my recommendation could extend to the entire book in a friendly and non-condescending way, although I must admit that at times, the straightforward explanation of Darwinism is put on hold, and challenging and controversial topics come up.
On these questions I would not like to be understood as expressing a hasty opinion, either against or for the views of the author. The points at issue between us are more or less fine-drawn, and cannot be dealt with parenthetically; nor do I ever propose to deal with them in a controversial manner. The author, as a biologist of fame, is more than entitled to such expression of his own views as he has cared to give. I quote with admiration, not necessarily with agreement, a few passages from the part dealing with the relation between mind and matter, and especially with the wide and revolutionary difference between man and animal caused by either the evolution or the incoming of free and conscious Choice.
On these questions, I don’t want to be seen as quickly taking a side, whether for or against the author’s views. The issues between us are quite subtle and can’t be handled casually; I also don’t intend to address them in a confrontational way. The author, as a well-respected biologist, absolutely has the right to express his own opinions as he sees fit. I quote a few passages with admiration, not necessarily in agreement, from the section discussing the relationship between mind and matter, particularly regarding the significant and groundbreaking distinction between humans and animals that arises from either evolution or the emergence of free and conscious Choice.
He will not allow, with Bergson and others, that the roots of consciousness, in its lower grades, go deep down into the animal, and even perhaps into the vegetable, kingdom; he has no patience with those who associate elementary consciousness and freedom and indeterminateness [ 334] not merely with human life but with all life, and who detect rudiments of purpose and intelligence in the protozoa. Nor, on the other hand, does he approve the dogmatic teaching of the 'ultra-scientific' school, which, being obsessed by the idea of man's animal origin, interprets human nature solely in terms of protoplasm. He opposes the possibility of this by saying:—
He won’t accept, like Bergson and others, that the roots of consciousness, in its more basic forms, reach deep into the animal and maybe even the plant kingdom. He has no patience for those who link basic consciousness and freedom with not just human life but all life, and who see hints of purpose and intelligence in protozoa. On the flip side, he doesn’t agree with the strict views of the 'ultra-scientific' school, which, fixated on the idea of humans being animals, interprets human nature only through protoplasm. He challenges this possibility by saying:—
"However fruitful and interesting it may be to remember that we are rooted deep in the natal mud, our possession of consciousness and the sense of freedom is a vital and overmastering distinction."
"While it may be valuable and intriguing to recall that we are deeply rooted in our origins, our awareness and sense of freedom are a crucial and overpowering distinction."
On the more interesting of the above-mentioned alternatives Dr. Chalmers Mitchell expresses himself thus:—
On the more interesting of the options mentioned above, Dr. Chalmers Mitchell says:—
"The Bergsonian interpretation does nothing to make consciousness and freedom more intelligible; and by extending them from man, in whom we know them to exist, to animals, in which their presence is at best an inference, it not only robs them of definiteness and reality, but it blurs the real distinction between men and animals, and evades the most difficult problem of science and philosophy. The facts are more truly represented by such phraseology as that animals are instinctive, man is intelligent, animals are irresponsible, man is responsible, animals are automata, man is free; or if you like, that God gave animals a beautiful body, man a rational soul...."
"The Bergsonian interpretation doesn’t clarify consciousness and freedom. By extending these concepts from humans, where we know they exist, to animals, where their presence is at best an assumption, it diminishes their clarity and reality. It also blurs the important distinction between humans and animals, sidestepping a major challenge in science and philosophy. The facts are better captured by saying that animals are instinctive, humans are intelligent, animals are irresponsible, humans are responsible, animals are like machines, and humans are free; or if you prefer, that God gave animals beautiful bodies and humans rational souls...."
And soon afterwards he continues:—
And shortly after, he continues:—
"Not 'envisaging itself,' not being at once actor, spectator, and critic, 'living in the flashing moment,' not seeing the past and the present and the future separately, this is the highest at which we can put the consciousness of animals, and herein lies the distinction between man and the animals which makes the overwhelming difference.
"Not 'envisioning itself,' not being at once actor, spectator, and critic, 'living in the fleeting moment,' not seeing the past, present, and future separately, this is the highest level we can attribute to animal consciousness, and this defines the distinction between humans and animals that creates the significant difference."
"Must we then suppose, with Russel Wallace, that somewhere on the upward path from the tropical forests to the groves of Paradise, a soul was interpolated from an outside source into the gorilla-like ancestry of man? I do not think so, although I not only admit but assert that such a view gives a more accurate statement of fact than does either of the fashionable doctrines that I have discussed. I believe with Darwin, that as the body of man has been evolved from the body of animals, so the [ 335] intellectual, emotional, and moral faculties of man have been evolved from the qualities of animals. I help myself towards the comprehension of the process by reflecting on two phenomena of observation [which he proceeds to cite]. I help myself, and perchance may help others; no more; could I speak dogmatically on what is the central mystery of all science and all philosophy and all thought, my words would roll with the thunder of Sinai."
"Should we then believe, like Russel Wallace, that somewhere along the journey from tropical forests to the paradise-like groves, a soul from an outside source was added to the gorilla-like lineage of humans? I don't think so, even though I admit and argue that this perspective presents a more accurate account of reality than either of the popular theories I've discussed. I agree with Darwin that just as the human body has evolved from animal bodies, the intellectual, emotional, and moral aspects of humanity have developed from the traits of animals. I better understand this process by reflecting on two observable phenomena [which he proceeds to cite]. I help myself to understand, and maybe I can help others; no more than that; if I could speak with certainty about the central mystery of all science, philosophy, and thought, my words would resonate with the force of Sinai."
Let it not be supposed for a moment that this distinguished biologist is in agreement with me on many matters dealt with in the present book. If he were, he would, I believe, achieve a more admirable and eloquent work than is consistent with the technically 'apologetic' tone which, in the present state of the scientific atmosphere, it behoves me to take. To guard against unwelcome misrepresentation of his views, and yet at the same time to indicate their force, I will make one more quotation:—
Let’s not assume for a second that this respected biologist agrees with me on many issues covered in this book. If he did, I believe he would create a more impressive and articulate work than the somewhat 'defensive' tone I feel obligated to adopt given the current scientific climate. To prevent any misinterpretation of his views while still highlighting their significance, I will make one more quote:—
"Writing as a hard-shell Darwinian evolutionist, a lover of the scalpel and microscope, and of patient, empirical observation, as one who dislikes all forms of supernaturalism, and who does not shrink from the implications even of the phrase that thought is a secretion of the brain as bile is a secretion of the liver, I assert as a biological fact that the moral law is as real and as external to man as the starry vault. It has no secure seat in any single man or in any single nation. It is the work of the blood and tears of long generations of men. It is not, in man, inborn or innate, but is enshrined in his traditions, in his customs, in his literature and his religion. Its creation and sustenance are the crowning glory of man, and his consciousness of it puts him in a high place above the animal world. Men live and die; nations rise and fall, but the struggle of individual lives and of individual nations must be measured not by their immediate needs, but as they tend to the debasement or perfection of man's great achievement."
"As a committed Darwinian evolutionist who loves using a scalpel and microscope and values careful, empirical observation, I have a strong dislike for all forms of supernatural beliefs. I also believe that thought is a product of the brain, just like bile is produced by the liver. I assert, as a biological fact, that the moral law is as real and external to humanity as the vastness of the stars. It doesn't have a secure place in any individual or nation. It's the result of the struggles and sacrifices of countless generations. It's not something humans are born with or innately possess; rather, it’s embedded in our traditions, customs, literature, and religion. Its creation and preservation are humanity's greatest achievements, and our awareness of it elevates us above animals. People live and die; nations rise and fall, but the meaning of individual lives and nations must be judged not by their immediate needs, but by how they contribute to the enrichment or degradation of humanity’s significant accomplishments."
My own view, which in such matters I only put forth with diffidence and brevity, is more in favour of Continuity. I do not trace so catastrophic a break between man and animals, nor between animal and vegetable, perhaps not even between organised and unorganised forms of matter, as does Dr. Chalmers Mitchell.
My take, which I only share with hesitation and conciseness on such topics, leans more toward Continuity. I don’t see such a drastic divide between humans and animals, or between animals and plants, and maybe not even between organized and unorganized matter, as Dr. Chalmers Mitchell does.
I would venture to extend the range of the term 'soul' down to a very large denominator,—to cases in which the magnitude of the fraction becomes excessively minute,—and tentatively admit to the possibility of [ 336] survival, though not individual survival, every form of life. As to Individuality and Personality—they can only survive where they already exist; when they really exist they persist; but bare survival, as an alternative to improbable extinction, may be widespread.
I would venture to broaden the meaning of the term 'soul' to include a wide range of cases, even to the point where the significance of the concept becomes very small. I tentatively accept the possibility of [ 336] survival for every form of life, even though it doesn't guarantee individual survival. As for individuality and personality—they can only survive where they already exist; when they truly exist, they endure. However, mere survival, as an option to unlikely extinction, may be quite common.
Matter forms an instrument, a means of manifestation, but it need not be the only one possible. We have utilised matter to build up this beautiful bodily mechanism, but, when that is done with, the constructive ability remains; and it can be expected to exercise its organising powers in other than material environment. If this hypothesis be true at all (and admittedly I am now making hypothesis) it must be true of all forms of life; for what the process of evolution has accomplished here may be accomplished elsewhere, under conditions at present unknown.[37] So I venture to surmise that the surroundings of non-material existence will be far more homely and habitual than people in general have been accustomed to think likely.
Matter acts as a tool, a way to manifest things, but it doesn't have to be the only option. We have used matter to create this amazing body, but once that's achieved, the ability to create still exists; and we can expect it to use its organizing skills in environments that aren't material. If this idea holds true (and I acknowledge that I'm proposing a theory here) it should apply to all forms of life; because what evolution has achieved here can also happen elsewhere, under conditions we don’t yet understand.[37] So I’m inclined to believe that the conditions of non-material existence will feel much more familiar and comfortable than most people typically assume.
And how do I know that the visible material body of anything is all the body, or all the existence, it possesses? Why should not things exist also, or have etherial counterparts, in an etherial world? Perhaps everything has already an etherial counterpart, of which our senses tell us the material aspect only. I do not know. Such an idea may be quoted as an absurdity; but if the evidence drives me in that direction, in that direction I will go, without undue resistance. There have been those who do not wait to be driven, but who lead; and the inspired guidance of Plotinus in that direction may secure more attention, and attract more disciples, when the way is illuminated by discoverable facts.
And how do I know that the visible physical body of anything is all the body, or all the existence it has? Why shouldn’t things also exist, or have ethereal counterparts, in an ethereal world? Maybe everything already has an ethereal counterpart, and our senses only show us the material side. I don’t know. Some might call this idea absurd, but if the evidence points me in that direction, that’s where I’ll go, without too much resistance. There are those who don’t wait to be pushed but who lead; and the inspired guidance of Plotinus in that direction might get more attention and attract more followers when the path is lit by discoverable facts.
Meanwhile facts await discovery.
Meanwhile, facts are waiting to be discovered.
Passages from Plotinus, it may be remembered, are eloquently translated by F. W. H. Myers, from the obscure and often ungrammatical Greek, in Human Personality, vol. ii. pp. 289-291; and readers of S.P.R. Proceedings, vol. xxii, pp. 108-172, will remember the development by Mrs. Verall of the [Greek: kai autos ouranos akumôn] motto prefixed to F. W. H. Myers's post-humously published poem on Tennyson in Fragments of Prose and Poetry.
F. W. H. Myers has wonderfully translated passages from Plotinus from the complex and often ungrammatical Greek in Human Personality, vol. ii, pp. 289-291. Readers of the S.P.R. Proceedings, vol. xxii, pp. 108-172, may remember Mrs. Verall's analysis of the [Greek: kai autos ouranos akumôn] motto that begins F. W. H. Myers's posthumously published poem about Tennyson in Fragments of Prose and Poetry.
My reference just above to teachings of Plotinus about the kind of things to be met with in the other world, or the etherial world, or whatever it may be called, is due to information from Professor J. H. Muirhead that, roughly speaking, Plotinus teaches that things there are on the same plan as things here: each thing here having its counterpart or corresponding existence there, though glorified and fuller of reality. Not to misrepresent this doctrine, but to illustrate it as far as can be by a short passage, Professor Muirhead has given me the following translation from the Enneads:—
My earlier reference to Plotinus's teachings about what to expect in the afterlife, or the ethereal realm, or whatever you want to call it, comes from Professor J. H. Muirhead. He explained that, generally speaking, Plotinus believes that things there mirror things here: everything we have here has a counterpart or corresponding existence there, but it's more glorified and filled with reality. To clarify this doctrine without misrepresenting it, Professor Muirhead has provided me with the following translation from the Enneads:—
"But again let us speak thus: For since we hold that this universe is framed after the pattern of That, every living thing must needs first be There; and since Its Being is perfect, all must be There. Heaven then must There be a living thing nor void of what are here called stars; indeed such things belong to heaven. Clearly too the earth which is There is not an empty void, but much more full of life, wherein are all creatures that are here called land animals and plants that are rooted in life. And sea is There, and all water in ebb and flow and in abiding life, and all creatures that are in the water. And air is a part of the all that is There, and creatures of the air in accordance with the nature and laws of air. For in the Living how should living things fail? How then can any living thing fail to be There, seeing that as each of the great parts of nature is, so needs must be the living things that therein are? As then Heaven is, and There exists, so are and exist all the creatures that inhabit it; nor can these fail to be, else would those (on earth?) not be."
"Let's put it this way: Since we believe that this universe is modeled after That, everything that lives must first exist There; and since Its Being is perfect, everything must be There. So, heaven must contain living beings and include what we call stars; after all, those belong in heaven. Clearly, the earth that is There is not an empty void but is much more alive, filled with all the creatures we refer to as land animals and the plants that are rooted in life. The sea is There too, along with all the water that moves in and out and supports life, and all beings that live in the water. Air is also part of the whole that is There, along with air creatures that follow the nature and laws of air. In the Living, how could living things not exist? So, how can any living thing not be There, considering that each major part of nature exists, and therefore the living things within it must also exist? Just as heaven is and exists There, so do all the creatures that inhabit it; and they cannot not exist, or else those (on earth?) would cease to be."
Enn. VI. vii.
Enn. VI. vii.
The reason why this strange utterance or speculation is reproduced here is because it seems to some extent to correspond with curious statements recorded in another part of this book; e.g. in Chapter XIV, Part II.
The reason this strange remark or idea is included here is that it somewhat aligns with unusual statements noted in another section of this book; e.g. in Chapter XIV, Part II.
I expect that it would be misleading to suppose that the terms used by Plotinus really signify any difference of locality. It may be nearer the truth to suppose that when freed from our restricting and only matter-revealing senses we become aware of much that was and is 'here' all the time, interfused with the existence which we knew;—forming part indeed of the one and only complete existence, of which our present normal knowledge is limited to a single aspect. We might think and speak of many interpenetrating universes, and yet recognise that ultimately they must be all one. It is not likely that the Present differs from what we now call the Future except in our mode of perceiving it.
I think it would be misleading to assume that the terms used by Plotinus actually indicate any difference in location. It’s probably more accurate to say that when we’re free from our limiting senses that only reveal the physical world, we can recognize a lot that was and is 'here' all along, intertwined with the reality we knew—being part of the one complete existence, of which our current normal understanding only covers a single aspect. We might consider and talk about many overlapping universes, yet acknowledge that in the end, they must all be one. It’s unlikely that the Present is any different from what we now call the Future, except in how we perceive it.
Footnotes
Footnotes
[37] I wish to emphasise this paragraph, as perhaps an important one.
"In scientific truth there is no finality, and there should therefore be no dogmatism. When this is forgotten, then science will become stagnant, and its high-priests will endeavour to strangle new learning at its birth."—R. A. Gregory, Discovery.
"In scientific truth, nothing is final, and so there should be no rigid beliefs. When this is overlooked, science will stagnate, and its leaders will try to suppress new knowledge before it even starts."—R.A. Gregory, Discovery.
How does mind communicate with mind? Our accustomed process is singularly indirect.
How does one mind communicate with another? Our usual method is notably indirect.
Speech is the initiation of muscular movements, under brain and nerve guidance, which result in the production of atmospheric pulsations—alternate condensations and rarefactions—which spread out in all directions in a way that can be likened superficially to the spreading of ripples on a pond. In themselves the aerial pulsations have no psychical connotation, and are as purely mechanical as are those ripples, though like the indentations on the wax of a phonograph their sequence is cunningly contrived; and it is in their sequence that the code lies—a code which anyone who has struggled with a foreign language knows is difficult to learn. Sound waves have in some respects a still closer analogy with the etherial pulsations generated at a wireless-telegraph sending station, which affect all sensitive receiving instruments within range and convey a code by their artificially induced sequence.
Speech is the beginning of muscle movements, guided by the brain and nerves, leading to the creation of sound waves—alternating compressions and rarefactions—that spread out in all directions, somewhat like ripples on a pond. The sound waves themselves don't carry any mental meaning and are merely mechanical, just like those ripples, even though their sequence is cleverly arranged; it's in that sequence that the code exists—a code that anyone who's tried to learn a foreign language knows is hard to master. Sound waves are similar in some ways to the ether waves created at a wireless telegraph station, which influence all sensitive receiving devices within range and transmit a code through their specially arranged sequence.
Hearing is reception of a small modicum of the above aerial pulsations, by suitable mechanism which enables them to stimulate ingeniously contrived nerve-endings, and so at length to affect auditory centres in the brain, and to get translated into the same kind of consciousness as was responsible for the original utterance. The whole is done so quickly and easily, by the perfect [ 339] physiological mechanism provided, that the indirect and surprising nature of the process is usually overlooked; as most things are when they have become familiar. Wireless telegraphy is not an iota more marvellous, but, being unfamiliar, it has aroused a sense of wonder.
Hearing is the process of receiving a small portion of those aerial sounds through a mechanism that stimulates specially designed nerve endings. This eventually impacts the auditory centers in the brain and translates into the same type of awareness that created the original sound. The entire process happens so quickly and effortlessly, thanks to the perfect physiological system in place, that the indirect and surprising nature of it is usually ignored; just like many things are when they become commonplace. Wireless telegraphy isn't any more amazing, but since it's unfamiliar, it has sparked a sense of wonder.
Writing and Reading by aid of black marks on a piece of paper, perceived by means of the Ether instead of the air, and through the agency of the eye instead of the ear,—though the symbols are ultimately to be interpreted as if heard,—hardly need elaboration in order to exhibit their curiously artificial and complicated indirectness: and in their case an element of delay, even a long time-interval—perhaps centuries—may intervene between production and reception.
Writing and reading using black marks on a piece of paper, recognized through the ether instead of the air, and through the eye instead of the ear—though the symbols are ultimately meant to be understood as if they were heard—barely need any further explanation to show their strangely artificial and complex nature. In this process, there can be a delay, sometimes even a long time—perhaps centuries—between the creation and the reception.
Artistic representation also, such as painting or music, though of a less articulate character, less dependent on purely linguistic convention and less limited by nationality, is still truly astonishing when intellectually regarded. An arrangement of pigments designed for the reception and modification and re-emission or reflexion of ether-tremors, in the one case; and, in the other, a continuous series of complicated vibrations excited by grossly mechanical means; intervene between the minds of painter and spectator, of composer and auditor, or, in more general terms, between agent and percipient,—again with possible great lapse of time.
Artistic representation, like painting or music, although less precise, less tied to strict language rules, and less restricted by nationality, is still truly amazing when you think about it. A mix of colors created to receive, change, and project energy waves in one case; and in the other, an ongoing sequence of complex vibrations created through basic mechanical means—these exist between the minds of the artist and the viewer, the composer and the listener, or more broadly, between the creator and the observer, often with significant time delays.
That ideas and feelings, thus indirectly and mechanically transmitted or stored, can affect the sensitive soul in unmistakable fashion, is a fact of experience; but that deposits in matter are competent to produce so purely psychic an effect can surely only be explained in terms of the potentialities and previous experience of the mind or soul itself. No emotional influence can be expressed, or rendered intelligible, in terms of matter. Matter is an indirect medium of communication between mind and mind. That direct telepathic intercourse should be able to occur between mind and mind, without all this intermediate physical mechanism, is therefore not really surprising. It has to be proved, no doubt, but the fact is intrinsically less puzzling than many of [ 340] those other facts to which we have grown hardened by usage.
The idea that thoughts and feelings can be passed on or stored and still impact the sensitive soul in a clear way is something we all know from experience. However, the notion that physical deposits can have such a purely mental effect can only be understood by looking at the potential and past experiences of the mind or soul itself. No emotional impact can be fully explained or made clear solely through physical matter. Matter serves as an indirect way for minds to communicate with each other. Therefore, it's not really surprising that direct telepathic connection can happen between minds without all the physical mechanisms in between. It needs to be proven, of course, but the reality of it is inherently less confusing than many other facts we are used to.
Why should telepathy be unfamiliar to us? Why should it seem only an exceptional or occasional method of communication? There is probably, as M. Bergson has said, an evolutionary advantage in our present almost exclusive limitation to mechanical and physical methods of communication; for these are under muscular control and can be shut off. We can isolate ourselves from them, if not in a mechanical, then in a topographical manner: we can go away, out of range. We could not thus protect ourselves against insistent telepathy. Hence probably the practical usefulness of the inhibiting and abstracting power of the brain; a power which in some lunatics is permanently deficient.
Why should telepathy be strange to us? Why does it seem like just an unusual or rare way to communicate? As M. Bergson pointed out, there’s likely an evolutionary benefit to our current focus on mechanical and physical forms of communication; these methods can be controlled by our muscles and turned off. We can separate ourselves from them, either mechanically or in terms of distance: we can move away, out of range. We wouldn’t be able to protect ourselves from persistent telepathy. This may explain the brain's ability to inhibit and abstract; a capability that is often lacking in some individuals with mental illnesses.
Physical things can reach consciousness—if at all—only through the brain; that remains true as regards physical things, however much we may admit telepathy from other minds; and, conversely, only through the brain can we operate with conscious purpose on the material world. To any more direct mental or spiritual intercourse we are, unless specially awakened, temporarily dead or asleep. There is some inversion of ordinary ideas here, for a state of trance appears to rouse or free the dormant faculties, and to render direct intercourse more possible. At any rate it does this for some people. For we find here and there, a few perfectly sane individuals, from whom, when in a rather exceptional state, the customary brain-limitation seems to be withdrawn or withdrawable. Their minds cease to be isolated for a time, and are accessible to more direct influences. Not the familiar part of their minds, not the part accustomed to operate and to be operated on by the habitually used portion of brain, no, but what is called a subliminal stratum of mind, a part only accessible perhaps to physical things through an ordinarily unused and only subconscious portion of the brain.
Physical things can only achieve consciousness—if at all—through the brain. This remains true for physical entities, even if we acknowledge telepathy from other minds. Likewise, we can only consciously interact with the material world through the brain. Unless we are specially awakened, we are temporarily dead or asleep to any more direct mental or spiritual communication. There’s an inversion of usual concepts here, as a trance state seems to awaken or release dormant abilities, making direct communication more feasible—this happens for some people, at least. Here and there, we find a few perfectly sane individuals who, in somewhat exceptional states, seem to transcend the usual limitations of the brain. Their minds stop being isolated for a time and become open to more direct influences. It’s not the familiar part of their minds, nor the part that normally acts and responds through the regularly used portion of the brain, but rather what is called a subliminal layer of mind, accessible perhaps to physical things only through a typically unused and subconscious part of the brain.
The occurrence of such people, i.e. of people with such exceptional and really simple faculties, could not have been predicted or expected on a basis of everyday experience; [ 341] but if evidence is forthcoming for their existence—even although it be not quite of an ordinary character—and if we can make examination of the subject-matter and criticise the statements of fact which are thus receivable, there is no sort of sense in opposing the facts by adducing preconceived negative opinions about impossibility, and declining to look into the evidence or judge of the results. There were people once who would not look at the satellites of Jupiter, lest their cherished convictions should be disturbed. There was a mathematician not long ago who would not see an experimental demonstration of conical refraction, lest if it failed his confidence in refined optical theory should be upset. And so, strange to say, there are people to-day who deny the fact, and condemn the investigation, of any manner of communication outside the realm of ordinary commonplace experience: having no ground at all for their denial save prejudice.
The existence of people like this, that is, people with such exceptional yet straightforward abilities, couldn't have been anticipated based on everyday experience; [ 341] but if there's evidence for their existence—even if it’s not exactly typical—and if we can examine the subject and evaluate the facts presented, there’s no reason to reject the facts simply by bringing in preconceived negative opinions about what’s possible and refusing to consider the evidence or assess the outcomes. There were times when some people wouldn’t even look at Jupiter’s moons for fear that their treasured beliefs might be shaken. Recently, there was a mathematician who refused to observe an experiment demonstrating conical refraction because he was worried that if it didn’t work, it would undermine his confidence in sophisticated optical theories. Oddly enough, there are still people today who deny the existence of and resist investigating any form of communication outside typical everyday experiences, with no basis for their denial other than bias.
Well, like other little systems, they have their day and cease to be. We need not attend to them overmuch. If the facts of the Universe have come within our contemplation, a certain amount of contemporary blindness, though it may surprise, need not perplex us. The study of the material side of things, under the limitations appropriate thereto, has done splendid service. Only gradually can mental scope be enlarged to take in not only all this but more also.
Well, like other small systems, they have their time and then fade away. We don't need to pay them too much attention. If the facts of the Universe have crossed our minds, a little bit of modern ignorance, while it might surprise us, doesn't have to confuse us. Examining the material side of things, within its proper limits, has been very valuable. Only gradually can our understanding grow to encompass not only this but even more.
In so far as those who are open to the less well-defined and more ambitious region are ignorant or unresponsive to what has been achieved in the material realm, it is no wonder that their asserted enlargement of scope is not credited. It does not seem likely that a new revelation has been vouchsafed to them, when they are so ignorant concerning the other and already recognised kind of Natural knowledge. They cannot indeed have attained information through the same channels, or in the same way. And it is this dislocation of knowledge, this difference of atmosphere, this barely reconcilable attitude of two diverse groups of people—though occasionally, by the device of water-tight compartments, the same individual has breathed both kinds of air and belonged to both groups—it is this bifurcation of method that has retarded [ 342] mutual understanding. There are pugnacious members of either group who try to strengthen their own position by decrying the methods of the other; and were it not for the occurrence from time to time of a Wallace or a Crookes, i.e. of men who combine in their own persons something of both kinds of knowledge, attained not by different but by similar methods—all their theses being maintained and justified on scientific grounds, and after experimental inquiry—the chances for a reasonable and scientific outlook into a new region, and ultimately over the border-line into the domain of religion, would not be encouraging. The existence of such men, however, has given the world pause, has sometimes checked its facile abuse, and has brought it occasionally into a reflective, perhaps now even into a partially receptive, mood. We need not be in any hurry, though we can hardly help hoping for quick progress if the new knowledge can in any way alleviate the terrible amount of sorrow in the world at present; moreover, if a new volume is to be opened in man's study of the Universe, it is time that the early chapters were being perused.
As long as those who are open to the less defined and more ambitious areas are unaware or unresponsive to what has been achieved in the material world, it's no surprise that their claims of expanding understanding aren’t taken seriously. It doesn’t seem likely that a new revelation has been granted to them when they lack knowledge about the already acknowledged type of natural understanding. They couldn't have reached this information through the same means or in the same way. It's this disconnection of knowledge, this difference in perspective, and this nearly irreconcilable attitude between two different groups of people—though occasionally, through separate compartments, the same individual has experienced both kinds of knowledge and belonged to both groups—that has slowed down mutual understanding. There are aggressive members of each group who try to reinforce their own stance by criticizing the other’s methods; and if it weren’t for the occasional emergence of someone like Wallace or Crookes, meaning individuals who embody aspects of both types of knowledge gained not by different but by similar methods—all their arguments being supported and validated through scientific reasoning and after experimentation—the prospects for a reasonable and scientific exploration into a new domain, and eventually into the realm of religion, would not be promising. However, the existence of such individuals has made the world pause, has sometimes tempered its easy criticism, and has occasionally led it into a more reflective, perhaps even a partially open-minded, state. We don't need to rush, though we can hardly help but hope for swift progress if the new knowledge can in any way relieve the immense suffering in the world right now; furthermore, if a new chapter is to be opened in humanity's understanding of the Universe, it’s about time that the early sections are being studied.
It may be asked, do I recommend all bereaved persons to devote the time and attention which I have done to getting communications and recording them? Most certainly I do not. I am a student of the subject, and a student often undertakes detailed labour of a special kind. I recommend people in general to learn and realise that their loved ones are still active and useful and interested and happy—more alive than ever in one sense—and to make up their minds to live a useful life till they rejoin them.
It might be asked if I suggest that all grieving individuals spend the time and effort I have in seeking out and recording messages. Absolutely not. I am a student of this topic, and students often engage in specific detailed work. I encourage people in general to understand and recognize that their loved ones are still active, valuable, interested, and happy—more alive than ever in a way—and to commit to living a meaningful life until they are reunited with them.
What steps should be taken to gain this peaceful assurance must depend on the individual. Some may get it from the consolations of religion, some from the testimony of trusted people, while some may find it necessary to have first-hand experience of their own for a time. And if this experience can be attained privately, with no outside assistance, by quiet and meditation or by favour of occasional waking dreams, so much the better.
What steps to take to achieve this peaceful assurance depends on the individual. Some might find it through the comforts of religion, some through the words of trusted friends, while others may feel the need to seek personal experience for a while. If this experience can be gained privately, without outside help, through quiet reflection or occasional vivid daydreams, that's even better.
What people should not do, is to close their minds to the possibility of continued existence except in some lofty [ 343] and inaccessible and essentially unsuitable condition; they should not selfishly seek to lessen pain by discouraging all mention, and even hiding everything likely to remind them, of those they have lost; nor should they give themselves over to unavailing and prostrating grief. Now is the time for action; and it is an ill return to those who have sacrificed all and died for the Country if those left behind do not throw off enervating distress and helpless lamentation, and seek to live for the Country and for humanity, to the utmost of their power.
What people shouldn't do is close their minds to the possibility of continuing to exist in some elevated, unreachable, and essentially unsuitable state; they shouldn't selfishly try to ease their pain by discouraging any mention of, or even hiding everything that might remind them of, those they've lost; nor should they surrender to pointless and overwhelming grief. Now is the time for action, and it would be a poor tribute to those who sacrificed everything and died for the country if those left behind didn't shake off debilitating sorrow and helpless mourning, and instead strive to live for the country and for humanity, to the best of their ability.
Any steps which are calculated to lead to this wholesome
result in any given instance are justified; and it is
not for me to offer advice as to the kind of activity most
appropriate to each individual case.
Any actions that are likely to lead to this positive outcome in any specific situation are justified; and it’s not my place to suggest the type of activity that would be best suited for each individual case.
I have suggested that the new knowledge, when generally established and incorporated with existing systems, will have a bearing and influence on the region hitherto explored by other faculties, and considered to be the domain of faith. It certainly must be so, whether the suggested expansion of scientific scope is welcomed or not. Certainly the conclusions to which I myself have been led by one mode of access are not contradictory of the conclusions which have been arrived at by those who (naturally) seem to me the more enlightened theologians; though I must confess that with some of the ecclesiastical superstructure which has descended to us from a bygone day, a psychic investigator can have but little sympathy. Indeed he only refrains from attacking it because he feels that, left to itself, it will be superseded by higher and better knowledge, and will die a natural death. There is too much wheat mingled with the tares to render it safe for any but an ecclesiastical expert to attempt to uproot them.
I’ve suggested that once new knowledge is broadly established and integrated with current systems, it will impact areas previously explored by other fields, which were seen as matters of faith. This will definitely happen, whether or not this suggested broadening of scientific understanding is accepted. The conclusions that I have reached through one approach do not contradict the conclusions made by those who I believe are the more enlightened theologians; however, I must admit that I have little sympathy for some of the religious structures that have been passed down from earlier times. In fact, I only avoid criticizing it because I believe that, if left alone, it will eventually be replaced by more advanced and better knowledge and will fade away naturally. There is too much valuable insight mixed in with misleading ideas for anyone but an ecclesiastical expert to safely try to remove them.
Meanwhile, although some of the official exponents of Christian doctrine condemn any attempt to explore things of this kind by secular methods; while others refrain from countenancing any results thus obtained; there are many who would utilise them in their teaching if they conscientiously could, and a few who have already begun to do so, on the strength of their own knowledge, however [ 344] derived, and in spite of the risk of offending weaker brethren.[38]
Meanwhile, even though some official representatives of Christian doctrine criticize any attempt to explore these kinds of topics using secular methods, and others avoid acknowledging any results obtained this way, there are many who would use them in their teaching if they felt they could do so with integrity, and a few who have already started to do so, based on their own understanding, no matter how it was gained, and despite the risk of upsetting less confident followers.[ 344]
Footnotes
Footnotes
[38] For instance, a book called The Gospel of the Hereafter, by Dr. J. Paterson Smyth, of Montreal, may be brought to the notice of anyone who, while clinging tightly to the essential tenets of orthodox Christianity, and unwilling or unable to enter upon a course of study, would gladly interpret eastern and mediæval phrases in a sense not repugnant to the modern spirit.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ For instance, a book called The Gospel of the Hereafter, written by Dr. J. Paterson Smyth from Montreal, might appeal to people who, while strongly adhering to the fundamental beliefs of traditional Christianity and either hesitant or unable to pursue formal studies, would rather grasp eastern and medieval ideas in a way that aligns with modern thinking.
CHAPTER 11
ON THE TRUTH OF SUPERNORMAL COMMUNICATION
"But he, the spirit himself, may come
But he, the spirit himself, may come
Where all the nerve of sense is numb."
Where all the feeling in the senses is dead.
Tennyson, In Memoriam
Tennyson, In Memoriam
HOWEVER it be accomplished, and whatever reception the present-day scientific world may give to the assertion, there are many now who know, by first-hand experience, that communication is possible across the boundary—if there is a boundary—between the world apprehended by our few animal-derived senses and the larger existence concerning which our knowledge is still more limited.
HOWEVER it is done, and whatever response the current scientific community may have to the claim, many today know, from personal experience, that communication is possible across the boundary—if there is a boundary—between the world perceived by our limited animal senses and the greater reality about which our knowledge is even more restricted.
Communication is not easy, but it occurs; and humanity has reason to be grateful to those few individuals who, finding themselves possessed of the faculty of mediumship, and therefore able to act as intermediaries, allow themselves to be used for this purpose.
Communication isn't easy, but it happens; and humanity has good reason to be grateful to the few individuals who, having the ability of mediumship and thus able to serve as intermediaries, allow themselves to be used for this purpose.
Such means of enlarging our knowledge, and entering into relations with things beyond animal ken, can be abused like any other power: it can be played with by the merely curious, or it can be exploited in a very mundane and unworthy way in the hope of warping it into the service of selfish ends, in the same way as old and long accessible kinds of knowledge have too often been employed. But it can also be used reverently and seriously, for the very legitimate purpose of comforting the sorrowful, helping the bereaved, and restoring some portion of the broken link between souls united in affection but separated for a time by an apparently impassable barrier. The barrier is turning out to be not hopelessly obdurate after all; intercourse between the two states is not so impossible as had[ 346] been thought; something can be learnt about occurrences from either side; and gradually it is probable that a large amount of consistent and fairly coherent knowledge will be accumulated.
Such ways of expanding our understanding and connecting with things beyond animal perception can be misused like any other power: they can be toyed with by the merely curious, or exploited in a very mundane and unscrupulous manner in hopes of distorting them for selfish purposes, similar to how long-known types of knowledge have frequently been used. However, they can also be approached with respect and seriousness, with the genuine intention of comforting the grieving, assisting the bereaved, and restoring some of the broken connection between souls bonded by love but separated for a time by what seems to be an unbreakable barrier. This barrier is proving to be not as hopeless as once thought; communication between the two realms is not as impossible as it had been believed; insights can be gained about events from either side; and over time, it's likely that a significant amount of consistent and reasonably coherent knowledge will be gathered.
Meanwhile broken ties of affection have the first claim; and early efforts at communication from the departed are nearly always directed towards assuring survivors of the fact of continued personal existence, towards helping them to realise that changed surroundings have in no way weakened love or destroyed memory, and urging upon their friends with eager insistence that earthly happiness need not be irretrievably spoiled by bereavement. For purposes of this kind many trivial incidents are recalled, such as are well adapted to convince intimate friends and relatives that one particular intelligence, and no other, must be the source from which the messages ultimately spring, through whatever intermediaries they have to be conveyed. And to people new to the subject such messages are often immediately convincing.
Meanwhile, broken emotional bonds take priority; early attempts at communication from those who have passed are almost always aimed at reassuring the living about the reality of ongoing personal existence. They help the living understand that changing circumstances have not diminished love or erased memories, and they passionately encourage their friends that earthly happiness doesn’t have to be completely ruined by loss. For this purpose, many trivial events are remembered, which are especially suited to persuade close friends and family that a specific consciousness, and no one else, must be the source of these messages, through whatever means they are delivered. For people who are new to this topic, such messages are often instantly convincing.
Further thought, however, raises difficulties and doubts. The gradually recognized possibility of what may be called normal telepathy, or unconscious mind-reading from survivors, raises hesitation—felt most by studious and thoughtful people—about accepting such messages as irrefragable evidence of persistent personal existence; and to overcome this curious and unexpected and perhaps rather artificial difficulty, it is demanded that facts shall be given which are unknown to anyone present, and can only subsequently be verified. Communications of this occasional and exceptional kind are what are called, by psychic investigators, more specifically 'evidential': and time and perhaps good fortune may be required for their adequate reception and critical appreciation. For it is manifest that most things readily talked about between two friends, and easily reproducible in hasty conversation, will naturally be of a nature common to both, and on subjects well within each other's knowledge.
However, further reflection brings up challenges and uncertainties. The gradually acknowledged possibility of what could be considered normal telepathy, or unconscious mind-reading from those who have passed, creates hesitation—most felt by thoughtful and observant individuals—about accepting such messages as undeniable proof of ongoing personal existence. To address this strange and unexpected, and perhaps somewhat artificial, issue, it is necessary to provide facts that are unknown to anyone present and can only be verified later. Communications of this rare and exceptional nature are referred to by psychic researchers as 'evidential'; and time and perhaps a bit of luck may be needed for their proper reception and critical evaluation. It's clear that most topics easily discussed between two friends, and quickly reproduced in casual conversation, will typically pertain to common ground for both and subjects well within each other’s understanding.
The more recent development of an elaborate scheme of 'cross-correspondence,' entered upon since the death of specially experienced and critical investigators of the S.P.R., who were familiar with all these difficulties, and who have taken strong and most ingenious means to overcome[ 347] them, has made the proof, already very strong, now almost crucial. The only alternative, in the best cases, is to imagine a sort of supernormal mischievousness, so elaborately misleading that it would have to be stigmatised as vicious or even diabolical.
The recent development of a detailed plan for 'cross-correspondence,' which started after the death of experienced and critical researchers from the S.P.R. who understood these challenges and came up with clever solutions to tackle them, has made the evidence, already quite strong, nearly undeniable. The only other option, in the best scenarios, is to suggest a kind of supernatural trickery so complexly deceptive that it would be considered malicious or even evil.[ 347]
In most cases complete proof of this complicated and cold-blooded kind is neither forthcoming nor is necessary: indeed it can hardly be appreciated or understood by non-studious people. Effective evidence is in most cases of a different kind, and varies with the personality concerned. It often happens that little personal touches, incommunicable to others in their full persuasiveness, sooner or later break down the last vestiges of legitimate scepticism. What goes on beyond that will depend upon personal training and interest. With many, anything like scientific inquiry lapses at this point, and communication resolves itself into emotional and domestic interchange of ordinary ideas. But in a few cases the desire to give new information is awakened; and when there is sufficient receptivity, and, what is very important, a competent and suitable Medium for anything beyond commonplace messages, instructive and general information may be forthcoming. An explanation or description of the methods of communication, for instance, as seen from their side; or some information concerning the manner of life there; and occasionally even some intelligent attempt to lessen human difficulties about religious conceptions, and to give larger ideas about the Universe as a whole,—all these attempts have been made. But they always insist that their information is but little greater than ours, and that they are still fallible gropers after truth,—of which they keenly feel the beauty and importance, but of which they realise the infinitude, and their own inadequacy of mental grasp, quite as clearly as we do here.
In most cases, complete proof of this complicated and cold-blooded type is neither available nor necessary: in fact, it can hardly be understood by people who don't study it. Effective evidence usually comes in different forms and varies with the person's personality. It's common for little personal touches, which cannot be fully communicated to others, to eventually break down the final remnants of legitimate skepticism. What happens beyond that depends on personal training and interest. For many, anything resembling scientific inquiry stops at this point, and communication turns into emotional and everyday exchanges of ordinary ideas. However, in a few instances, the desire to share new information arises; and when there is enough openness, plus a competent and suitable Medium for anything beyond basic messages, informative and general insights may emerge. Examples include explanations or descriptions of communication methods from their perspective, or insights about their way of life; and occasionally, even intelligent attempts to ease human struggles regarding religious beliefs and to provide broader perspectives about the Universe as a whole—these efforts have been made. But they always emphasize that their knowledge is only slightly greater than ours, and that they are still imperfect seekers of truth—of which they are very aware of its beauty and significance, but they also realize its vastness and their own limitations in understanding it, just as we do here.
These are what we call the 'unverifiable' communications; for we cannot bring them to book by subsequent terrestrial inquiry in the same way as we can test information concerning personal or mundane affairs. Information of the higher kind has often been received, but has seldom been published; and it is difficult to know what value to put upon it, or how far it is really trustworthy.
These are what we refer to as 'unverifiable' communications; we can't validate them through later earthly investigation like we can with personal or everyday matters. Higher-level information has often been received but rarely published; it's challenging to assess its value or determine how reliable it truly is.
I am inclined to think, however—with a growing number[ 348] of serious students of the subject—that the time is getting ripe now for the production and discussion of material of this technically unverifiable kind; to be scrutinised and tested by internal consistency and inherent probability, in the same sort of way as travellers' tales have to be scrutinised and tested. But until humanity as a whole has taken the initial step, and shown itself willing to regard such communications as within the range of possibility, it may be unwise to venture far in this more ambitious direction.
I think, however—with an increasing number[ 348] of serious students looking into the topic—that the time is right for producing and discussing this type of technically unverifiable material; we should analyze and evaluate it for internal consistency and inherent likelihood, much like how we examine travelers' stories. But until humanity as a whole takes the first step and shows it’s open to considering such communications as possible, it might be unwise to push too hard in this more ambitious direction.
It has nevertheless been suggested, from a philosophic point of view, that strict proof of individual survival must in the last resort depend on examination and collation of these 'travellers' tales,' rather than on any kind of resuscitation of the past; because, until we know more about memory, it is possible to conjecture, as I think Professor Bergson does, that all the past is potentially accessible to a super-subliminal faculty for disinterring it. And so one might, in a sceptical mood, when confronted with records of apparently personal reminiscence, attribute them to an unconscious exercise of this faculty, and say with Tennyson
It has been suggested, from a philosophical perspective, that definitive evidence of individual survival ultimately relies on analyzing and comparing these "traveler's tales," rather than trying to revive the past; because, until we understand more about memory, it’s possible to speculate, as I believe Professor Bergson does, that all of the past can be potentially accessed by a super-subliminal ability to retrieve it. So one might, in a doubting mindset, when faced with accounts of seemingly personal memories, attribute them to an unconscious use of this ability, and say with Tennyson
"I hear a wind
"I hear a breeze"
Of memory murmuring the past."
Of memory reminiscing the past.
I do not myself regard this impersonal memory as a reasonable hypothesis, I think that the simpler view is likely to be the truer one, so I attach importance to trivial reminiscences and characteristic personal touches; but I do agree that abstention from recording and publishing, however apologetically, those other efforts has had the effect of making ill-informed people—i.e. people with very little personal experience—jump to the conclusion that all communications are of a trivial and contemptible nature.
I don’t personally see this impersonal memory as a valid theory; I believe the simpler perspective is probably the more accurate one. Therefore, I value minor memories and distinct personal details. However, I do agree that not documenting and sharing, even with apologies, those other efforts has led uninformed people—i.e. people with very limited personal experience—to mistakenly conclude that all communications are trivial and worthless.
CHAPTER 12
ON THE BELIEF THAT ALL PSYCHIC COMMUNICATIONS
ARE TRIVIAL
AND ADDRESS INSIGNIFICANT TOPICS
THAT such a contention as that mentioned at the end of the preceding chapter is false is well known to people of experience; but so long as the demand for verification and proof of identity persists—and it will be long indeed before they can be dispensed with—so long are trifling reminiscences the best way to achieve the desired end. The end in this case amply explains and justifies the means. Hence it is that novices and critics are naturally and properly regaled with references to readily remembered and verifiable facts; and since these facts, to be useful, must not be of the nature of public news, nor anything which can be gleaned from biographical or historical records, they usually relate to trifling family affairs or other humorous details such as seem likely to stay in the memory. It can freely be admitted that such facts are only redeemed from triviality by the affectionate recollections interlinked with them, and by the motive which has caused them to be reproduced. For their special purpose they may be admirable; and there is no sort of triviality about the thing to be proven by them. The idea that a departed friend ought to be occupied wholly and entirely with grave matters, and ought not to remember jokes and fun, is a gratuitous claim which has to be abandoned. Humour does not cease with earth-life. Why should it?
THAT such an argument as the one mentioned at the end of the previous chapter is false is well known to experienced people; but as long as the demand for verification and proof of identity remains—and it will be quite a while before we can do without it—trivial memories are the best way to achieve the goal. The goal in this case clearly explains and justifies the means. This is why newcomers and critics are naturally and appropriately treated to references to easily remembered and verifiable facts; and since these facts, to be useful, must not be common knowledge or anything that can be found in biographical or historical records, they usually relate to minor family matters or other humorous details that are likely to stick in the mind. It can be openly acknowledged that such facts are only lifted from being trivial by the fond memories connected to them, and by the reason that has brought them back to light. For their specific purpose, they may be excellent; and there’s nothing trivial about the thing to be proven by them. The idea that a deceased friend should be focused entirely on serious matters and shouldn’t recall jokes and fun is an unfounded assumption that needs to be let go. Humor doesn’t end with life on Earth. Why should it?
It should be evident that communications concerning deeper matters are not similarly serviceable as proof of identity, though they may have a value and interest of their own; but it is an interest which could not be [ 350] legitimately aroused until the first step—the recognition of veridical intercourse—had been taken; for, as a rule, they are essentially unverifiable. Of such communications a multitude could be quoted; and almost at random I select a few specimens from the automatic writings of the gentleman and schoolmaster known to a former generation as M.A.Oxon.[39] Take this one, which happens to be printed in a current issue of Light (22 April 1916), with the statement that it occurs in one of M.A.Oxon.'s subliminally written and private notebooks, under date 12 July 1873—many others will be found in the selections which he himself extracted from his own script and published in a book called Spirit Teachings:—
It should be clear that discussions about deeper issues aren’t really useful as proof of identity, although they can have their own value and interest. However, this interest can only be sparked once the first step—the acknowledgment of genuine interaction—has been made, since, in general, these discussions are essentially impossible to verify. Many examples of such communications could be provided; here, I’ll randomly pick a few samples from the automatic writings of the man and teacher known to an earlier generation as M.A.Oxon.[39] For instance, this one, which is currently printed in an issue of Light (22 April 1916), notes that it’s found in one of M.A.Oxon.'s subliminally written private notebooks, dated 12 July 1873—many more can be found in the selections he himself gathered from his own writings and published in a book called Spirit Teachings:—
"You do not sufficiently grasp the scanty hold that religion has upon the mass of mankind, nor the adaptability of what we preach to the wants and cravings of men. Or perhaps it is necessary that you be reminded of what you cannot see clearly in your present state and among your present associations. You cannot see, as we see, the carelessness that has crept over men as to the future. Those who have thought over their future have come to know that they can find out nothing about it, except, indeed, that what man pretends to tell is foolish, contradictory, and unsatisfying. His reasoning faculties convince him that the Revelation of God contains very plain marks of human origin; that it will not stand the test of sifting such as is applied to works professedly human; and that the priestly fiction that reason is no measure of revelation, and that it must be left on the threshold of inquiry and give place to faith, is a cunningly planned means of preventing man from discovering the errors and contradictions which throng the pages of the Bible. Those who reason discover this soon; those who do not, betake themselves to the refuge of Faith, and become blind devotees, fanatical, irrational, and bigoted; conformed to a groove in which they have been educated and from which they have not broken loose simply because they have not dared to think. It would be hard for man to devise a means [more capable] of cramping the mind and dwarfing the spirit's growth than this persuading of a man that he must not think about religion. It is one which paralyses all freedom of thought and renders it almost impossible for the soul to rise. The spirit is condemned to a hereditary religion whether suited or not to its wants. That which may have suited a far-off ancestor may be [ 351] quite unsuited to a struggling soul that lives in other times from those in which such ideas had vitality. The spirit's life is so made a question of birth and of locality. It is a question over which he can exercise no control, whether he is Christian, Mohammedan, or, as ye say, heathen: whether his God be the Great Spirit of the Red Indian, or the fetish of the savage; whether his prophet be Christ or Mahomet or Confucius; in short, whether his notion of religion be that of East, West, North, or South; for in all these quarters men have evolved for themselves a theology which they teach their children to believe.
You may not completely grasp how weakly religion ties most people down or how flexible our teachings are to meet human needs and desires. Or perhaps you just need a reminder of what you can't see clearly in your current mindset and environment. You can't see, like we do, the indifference people have developed towards the future. Those who ponder their future realize they can't truly know it, except that what people claim to know is often foolish, inconsistent, and unfulfilling. Their reasoning leads them to think that God's Revelation appears to be human-made; that it wouldn't stand up to scrutiny like other clearly human works; and that the idea promoted by some religious leaders that reason shouldn't question revelation, but should be left behind for faith, is a clever way to prevent people from discovering the mistakes and contradictions found throughout the Bible. Those who truly think come to this realization quickly; those who don’t turn to the comfort of Faith, becoming blind followers—fanatical, irrational, and bigoted—conforming to the beliefs they were raised with and remaining trapped simply because they haven't dared to think for themselves. It's hard to imagine a more effective method of stifling thought and hindering the growth of the spirit than convincing someone they shouldn't question religion. This method paralyzes free thought and makes it nearly impossible for the soul to lift itself up. The spirit is tied to a religion that may not serve its true needs. What may have worked for an ancestor from long ago could be completely irrelevant for a spirit living in a time when those ideas have lost their significance. The question of one's spiritual life boils down to where they were born and other uncontrollable factors. It doesn't matter if someone is Christian, Muslim, or identifies as pagan; whether their god is the Great Spirit of Native Americans or a primitive idol; whether their prophet is Jesus, Muhammad, or Confucius; in short, regardless of whether their religious beliefs come from the East, West, North, or South, because in all these places, people have created their own theologies that they instill in their children as truth.
"The days are coming when this geographical sectarianism will give place before the enlightenment caused by the spread of our revelation, for which men are far riper than you think. The time draws nigh apace when the sublime truths of Spiritualism, rational and noble as they are when viewed by man's standard, shall wipe away from the face of God's earth the sectarian jealousy and theological bitterness, the anger and ill-will, the folly and stupidity, which have disgraced the name of religion and the worship of God; and man shall see in a clearer light the Supreme Creator and the spirit's eternal destiny.
"The days are coming when this geographical separation will give way to understanding brought by the spread of our revelation, which people are much more ready for than you realize. The time is fast approaching when the deep truths of Spiritualism, rational and noble according to human standards, will erase from the earth the sectarian jealousy and theological bitterness, the anger and resentment, the foolishness and ignorance that have stained the name of religion and the worship of God; and humanity will see the Supreme Creator and the eternal destiny of the spirit in a much clearer light."
"We tell you, friend, that the end draws nigh; the night of ignorance is passing fast; the shackles which priestcraft has strung round the struggling souls shall be knocked off, and in place of fanatical folly and ignorant speculation and superstitious belief, ye shall have a reasonable religion and a knowledge of the reality of the spirit-world and of the ministry of angels with you. Ye shall know that the dead are alive indeed, living as they lived on earth, but more truly, ministering to you with undiminished love, animated in their perpetual intercourse with the same affection which they had whilst yet incarned."
"We're telling you, friend, that the end is near; the darkness of ignorance is quickly lifting. The chains that religious authority has placed around struggling souls will be shattered, and instead of extreme foolishness, uninformed speculation, and superstitious beliefs, you'll have a rational religion and a clear understanding of the spirit world and the presence of angels with you. You will realize that the dead are truly alive, living as they did on earth but in a fuller sense, supporting you with unwavering love and continually interacting with you just as they did while living."
Any one of these serious messages can be criticised and commented upon with hostility and suspicion; they are not suited to establish the first premise of the argument for continuance of personality; and if they were put forward as part of the proof of survival, then perhaps the hostility would be legitimate. It ought to be clear that they are not to be taken as oracular utterances, or as anything vastly superior to the capabilities of the medium through whom they come,—though in fact they often are superior to any known power of a given medium, and are frequently characteristic of the departed personality, as we knew him, who is purporting to be the Communicator: though this remark is not applicable to the particular class of impersonal messages here selected for quotation. Yet in all cases they must surely be more or less sophisticated by the channel, and by the more or less strained method of [ 352] communication, and must share some of its limitations and imperfections.
Any one of these serious messages can be criticized and commented on with hostility and suspicion; they aren’t meant to establish the basic argument for the continuation of personality. If they were presented as part of the proof of survival, then maybe the hostility would be justified. It should be clear that they aren’t to be taken as prophetic statements, or as anything significantly superior to the capabilities of the medium delivering them—though they often are better than any known ability of a given medium, and frequently reflect the personality of the departed individual, as we knew him, who is claiming to be the Communicator. However, this observation doesn’t apply to the specific type of impersonal messages chosen for quotation here. Still, in all cases, they must surely be somewhat influenced by the channel and the somewhat strained method of [ 352] communication, and must share some of its limitations and imperfections.
However that may be, it is proper to quote them occasionally, as here; not as specially profound utterances, but merely in contradiction of the imaginary and false thesis that only trivial and insignificant subjects are dealt with in automatic writings and mediumistic utterances. For such utterances—whatever their value or lack of value—are manifestly conclusive against that gratuitous and ignorant supposition. Whatever is thought of them, they are at least conceived in a spirit of earnestness, and are characterised by a genuine fervour that may be properly called religious.
However that may be, it’s fitting to quote them now and then, like here; not as especially deep statements, but just to counter the false and imaginary belief that only trivial and unimportant topics are covered in automatic writing and mediumistic expressions. Because those expressions—regardless of their worth or lack thereof—clearly go against that baseless and uninformed assumption. Whatever people think of them, they are at least created with sincerity and have a genuine passion that can rightly be called religious.
I now quote a few more of the records published in the book cited above,—in this case dealing with Theological questions and puzzles in the mind of the automatic writer himself:—
I now quote a few more of the records published in the book cited above—in this case dealing with theological questions and puzzles in the mind of the automatic writer himself:—
"All your fancied theories about God have filtered down to you through human channels; the embodiments of human cravings after knowledge of Him; the creation of minds that were undeveloped, whose wants were not your wants, whose God, or rather whose notions about God are not yours. You try hard to make the ideas fit in, but they will not fit, because they are the product of divers degrees of development...."
"All the beliefs you have about God have come from human sources; they reflect human desires to know Him; they originate from people who were less developed, whose needs differ from yours, and whose understanding of God, or rather their ideas about Him, aren't the same as yours. You try hard to make these ideas fit, but they won't fit because they come from different levels of understanding..."
"God! Ye know Him not! One day, when the Spirit stands within the veil which shrouds the spirit world from mortal gaze, you shall wonder at your ignorance of Him whom you have so foolishly imagined! He is far other than you have pictured Him. Were He such as you have pictured Him, were He such as you think, He would avenge on presumptuous man the insults which he puts on his Creator. But He is other, far other than man's poor grovelling mind can grasp, and He pities and forgives the ignorance of the blind mortal who paints Him after a self-imagined pattern.... When you rashly complain of us that our teaching to you controverts that of the Old Testament, we can but answer that it does indeed controvert that old and repulsive view ... but that it is in fullest accord with that divinely inspired revelation of Himself which He gave through Jesus Christ—a revelation which man has done so much to debase, and from which the best of the followers of Christ have so grievously fallen away."
"God! You don't truly know Him! One day, when the Spirit stands beyond the veil that separates the spiritual world from human perception, you'll be shocked at how little you grasp about Him whom you have so naively envisioned! He is so much more than your limited imagination. If He were as you think, if He were the way you picture Him, He would seek revenge on arrogant humans for the disrespect they show to their Creator. But He is different, far beyond what human minds can understand, and He feels compassion and forgives the ignorance of blind mortals who attempt to create Him in their own imagined image... When you quickly criticize us for teaching something that seems to contradict the Old Testament, we can only respond that it indeed contrasts with that outdated and unappealing view... but it perfectly aligns with the divinely inspired revelation of Himself that He shared through Jesus Christ—a revelation that humanity has worked hard to distort, and from which many of the best followers of Christ have strayed so far."
And again, in answer to other doubts and questions in the mind of the automatist as to the legitimacy of the means of communication, and his hesitation about employing a means which he knew was sometimes prostituted by [ 353] knaves to unworthy and frivolous or even base objects,—very different from those served by humorous and friendly family messages, about which no one with a spark of human feeling has a word to say when once they have realised their nature and object,—the writing continued thus:—
And again, in response to other doubts and questions in the mind of the automatist regarding the validity of the communication methods, and his uncertainty about using a method that he knew was sometimes misused by [ 353] con artists for unworthy, trivial, or even immoral purposes—very different from the ones used for humorous and friendly family messages, which no one with any sense of compassion would criticize once they understood their nature and purpose—the writing continued like this:—
"If there be nought in what we say of God and of man's after-life that commends itself to you, it must be that your mind has ceased to love the grander and simpler conceptions which it had once learned to drink in...."
"If what we say about God and the afterlife doesn't resonate with you, it likely means that your mind has stopped appreciating the larger, simpler ideas it once embraced...."
"Cease to be anxious about the minute questions which are of minor moment. Dwell much on the great, the overwhelming necessity for a clearer revealing of the Supreme; on the blank and cheerless ignorance of God and of us which has crept over the world: on the noble creed we teach, on the bright future we reveal. Cease to be perplexed by thoughts of an imagined Devil. For the honest, pure, and truthful soul there is no Devil nor Prince of Evil such as theology has feigned.... The clouds of sorrow and anguish of soul may gather round [such a man] and his spirit may be saddened with the burden of sin—weighed down with consciousness of surrounding misery and guilt, but no fabled Devil can gain dominion over him, or prevail to drag down his soul to hell. All the sadness of spirit, the acquaintance with grief, the intermingling with guilt, is part of the experience, in virtue of which his soul shall rise hereafter. The guardians are training and fitting it by those means to progress, and jealously protect it from the dominion of the foe.
"Stop stressing about the minor issues that really don’t matter. Instead, concentrate on the bigger picture, the urgent need to clarify the Supreme; on the empty and bleak ignorance of God and ourselves that has taken over the world; on the noble beliefs we share, and on the bright future ahead. Don’t get caught up in thoughts of a fictional Devil. For an honest, pure, and truthful person, there is no Devil or Prince of Evil like what theology has created.... Even if sadness and anguish surround such a person and they feel weighed down by sin—burdened by the awareness of misery and guilt all around—they are not under the control of any mythical Devil, nor can he drag their soul down to hell. All the sadness of spirit, the experience of grief, and the burden of guilt are part of what helps their soul to rise in the future. The guardians are shaping and preparing it through these experiences to grow, fiercely protecting it from the enemy's control."
"It is only they who, by a fondness for evil, by a lack of spiritual and excess of corporeal development, attract to themselves the congenial spirits of the undeveloped who have left the body but not forgotten its desires. These alone risk incursion of evil. These by proclivity attract evil, and it dwells with them at their invitation. They attract the lower spirits who hover nearest Earth, and who are but too ready to rush in and mar our plans, and ruin our work for souls. These are they of whom you speak when you say in haste, that the result of Spiritualism is not for good. You err, friend. Blame not us that the lower spirits manifest for those who bid them welcome. Blame man's insensate folly, which will choose the low and grovelling rather than the pure and elevated. Blame his foolish laws, which daily hurry into a life for which they are unprepared, thousands of spirits, hampered and dragged down by a life of folly and sin, which has been fostered by custom and fashion. Blame the ginshops, and the madhouses, and the prisons, and the encouraged lusts and fiendish selfishness of man. This it is which damns legions of spirits—not, as ye fancy, in a sea of material fire, but in the flames of perpetuated lust, condemned to burn itself out in hopeless longing till the purged soul rises through the fire and surmounts its dead passions. Yes, blame these and kindred [ 354] causes, if there be around undeveloped intelligences who shock you by their deception, and annoy you by frivolity and falsehood."
"It's only those who, due to a love for wrongdoing, lack of spiritual growth, and excessive physical development, attract like-minded spirits of the undeveloped who have left their bodies but haven’t forgotten their desires. These are the ones risking evil. They naturally draw in negative forces, and these forces stick around because they are invited. They attract the lower spirits that hover closest to Earth, who are eager to come in and disrupt our plans and undermine our efforts for souls. These are the ones you refer to when you quickly say that the results of Spiritualism aren’t good. You are mistaken, my friend. Don’t blame us for the lower spirits manifesting for those who welcome them. Blame humanity's reckless folly, which chooses the low and degrading over the pure and uplifting. Blame the foolish laws that hastily push thousands of spirits into a life they aren’t ready for, burdened by lives of folly and sin that society has normalized. Blame the bars, the asylums, and the prisons, along with the encouraged desires and selfishness of humanity. This is what damns countless spirits—not, as you might think, in a sea of material fire, but in the flames of ongoing lust, condemned to burn out in an endless yearning until the purged soul rises through the flames and overcomes its dead passions. Yes, blame these and similar causes if there are undeveloped intelligences around who disturb you with their deception and annoy you with their triviality and falsehood."
I suppose that the worst that can be said about writing of this kind is that it consists of 'sermon-stuffe' such as could have been presumably invented—whether consciously or unconsciously—by the automatic writer himself. And the fact that with some of it he tended to disagree, proves no more than the corresponding kind of unexpected argumentation experienced by some dreamers. (Cf. L. P. Jacks, Hibbert Journal, July, 1916.) The same kind of explanation may serve for both phenomena, but I do not know what that explanation is.
I guess the worst thing you can say about this kind of writing is that it contains "sermon-stuff" that could have been created—either intentionally or unintentionally—by the automatic writer himself. The fact that he sometimes disagreed with some of it only shows a similar kind of unexpected reasoning that some dreamers experience. (Cf. L. P. Jacks, Hibbert Journal, July, 1916.) The same type of explanation might apply to both situations, but I have no idea what that explanation is.
Footnotes
Footnotes
[39] The Rev. Stainton Moses (M. A. Oxon) was one of the masters at University College School in London. He wrote automatically, i.e. subconsciously, in private notebooks at a regular short time each day for nearly twenty years, and felt that he was in touch with helpful and informing intelligences.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Rev. Stainton Moses (M.A. Oxon) was one of the educators at University College School in London. For almost twenty years, he engaged in automatic writing—subconsciously—keeping personal notebooks for a brief time each day, thinking he was in touch with supportive and knowledgeable entities.
CHAPTER 13
HOW TO COMMUNICATE
PERHAPS the commonest and easiest method of communication is what is called 'automatic writing'—the method by which the above examples were received—i.e. writing performed through the agency of subconscious intelligence; the writer leaving his or her hand at liberty to write whatever comes, without attempting to control it, and without necessarily attending at the time to what is being written.
PERHAPS the most common and simplest way to communicate is through what's known as 'automatic writing'—the method used to receive the examples above. This involves writing done through subconscious intelligence; the writer allows their hand to write freely without trying to control it or necessarily paying attention to what is being written at the moment.
That a novice will usually get nothing, or mere nonsense or scribbling, in this way is obvious: the remarkable thing is that some persons are thus able to get sense, and to tap sources of information outside their normal range. If a rudiment of such power exists, it is possible, though not always desirable, to cultivate it; but care, pertinacity, and intelligence are needed to utilise a faculty of this kind. Unless people are well-balanced and self-critical and wholesomely occupied, they had better leave the subject alone.
That a beginner will often end up with nothing more than nonsense or scribbles is clear: what's surprising is that some people can actually make sense of it and access information beyond their usual scope. If a hint of such ability exists, it can be developed, although it’s not always a good idea to do so; however, it requires care, persistence, and intelligence to make the most of this kind of ability. Unless individuals are well-rounded, self-reflective, and healthily engaged, it’s best for them to steer clear of the topic.
In most cases of fully-developed automatism known to me the automatist reads what comes, and makes suitable oral replies or comments to the sentences as they appear: so that the whole has then the effect of a straightforward conversation of which one side is spoken and the other written—the speaking side being usually rather silent and reserved, the writing side free and expansive.
In most cases of fully-developed automatism that I'm aware of, the automatist reads whatever comes to mind and gives appropriate spoken responses or comments to the sentences as they appear. This creates the effect of a straightforward conversation where one side is spoken and the other is written—the spoken side tends to be somewhat quiet and reserved, while the written side is more open and expressive.
Naturally not every person has the power of cultivating this simple form of what is technically known as motor automatism, one of the recognised subliminal forms of activity; but probably more people could do it if they tried; though for some people it would be injudicious, and for many others hardly worth while.
Naturally, not everyone has the ability to develop this simple type of what’s technically called motor automatism, one of the recognized subliminal forms of activity; however, more people might be able to do it if they made an effort, although for some it might not be wise, and for many others, it wouldn’t be worth the effort.
The intermediate mentality employed in this process [ 356] seems to be a usually submerged or dream-like stratum of the automatist whose hand is being used. The hand is probably worked by its usual physiological mechanism, guided and controlled by nerve centres not in the most conscious and ordinarily employed region of the brain. In some cases the content or subject-matter of the writing may emanate entirely from these nerve centres, and be of no more value than a dream; as is frequently the case with the more elementary automatism set in action by the use of instruments known as 'planchette' and 'ouija,' often employed by beginners. But when the message turns out to be of evidential value it is presumably because this subliminal portion of the person is in touch, either telepathically or in some other way, with intelligences not ordinarily accessible,—with living people at a distance perhaps, or more often with the apparently more accessible people who have passed on, for whom distance in the ordinary sense seems hardly to exist, and whose links of connexion are of a kind other than spatial. It need hardly be said that proof of communion of this kind is absolutely necessary, and has to be insisted on; but experience has demonstrated that now and again sound proof is forthcoming.
The intermediate mindset used in this process [ 356] appears to be a usually hidden or dream-like layer of the automatist whose hand is in motion. The hand is likely operated by its usual physiological mechanisms, guided and controlled by nerve centers not located in the most conscious and commonly used part of the brain. In some cases, the content or subject of the writing may arise entirely from these nerve centers and hold no more value than a dream; this is often true for more basic automatism triggered by tools known as 'planchette' and 'ouija,' frequently used by beginners. However, when the message has evidential value, it's likely because this subliminal part of the person is connected, either telepathically or through some other means, with intelligences that are not usually accessible—perhaps with living people who are far away, or more often with those who have passed on, for whom distance in the conventional sense seems almost irrelevant, and whose connections are of a different nature than spatial. It goes without saying that proof of communication of this kind is absolutely essential and must be emphasized; however, experience has shown that occasionally solid proof does emerge.
Another method, and one that turns out to be still more powerful, is for the automatist not only to take off his or her attention from what is being transmitted through his or her organism, but to become comprehensively unconscious and go into a trance. In that case it appears that the physiological mechanism is more amenable to control, and is less sophisticated by the ordinary intelligence of the person to whom it normally belongs; so that messages of importance and privacy may be got through. But the messages have to be received and attended to by another person; for in such cases, when genuine, the entranced person on waking up is found to be ignorant of what has been either written or uttered. In this state, speech is as common as writing, probably more common because less troublesome to the recipient, i.e. the friend or relative to whom or for whom messages are being thus sent. The communicating personality during trance may be the same as the one operating the hand without trance, and the messages may have the same general character as those got by automatic [ 357] writing, when the consciousness is not suspended but only in temporary and local abeyance; but in the trance state a dramatic characterisation is usually imparted to the proceedings, by the appearance of an entity called a 'Control,' who works the body of the automatist in the apparent absence of its customary manager. This personality is believed by some to be merely the subliminal self of the entranced person, brought to the surface, or liberated and dramatised into a sort of dream existence, for the time. By others it is supposed to be a healthy and manageable variety of the more or less pathological phenomenon known to physicians and psychiatrists as cases of dual or multiple personality. By others again it is believed to be in reality the separate intelligence which it claims to be.
Another method, which turns out to be even more powerful, is for the automatist to not only shift their focus away from what’s coming through their body but also to become completely unconscious and enter a trance. In this state, it seems that the physiological processes are easier to control and are less influenced by the regular intelligence of the person. This allows important and private messages to get through. However, these messages need to be received and acknowledged by someone else; in genuine cases, when the entranced person wakes up, they typically have no knowledge of what has been written or said. In this state, speaking is just as common as writing, probably even more so because it’s easier for the recipient, meaning the friend or family member who is receiving the messages. The communicating personality during the trance may be the same as the one controlling the hand without the trance, and the messages could have a similar general nature to those obtained through automatic writing, where consciousness isn’t fully suspended but is only temporarily and locally inactive; however, in the trance state, a dramatic characterization often appears through an entity called a 'Control,' which takes over the body of the automatist in the absence of its usual operator. Some believe this personality is simply the subliminal self of the entranced person, brought to the forefront or dramatized into a kind of dream state for a while. Others think of it as a healthy and manageable variation of what doctors and psychiatrists recognize as cases of dual or multiple personality. Still, others believe it’s really a separate intelligence that it claims to be.
But however much can be and has been written on this subject, and whatever different opinions may be held, it is universally admitted that the dramatic semblance of the control is undoubtedly that of a separate person,—a person asserted to be permanently existing on the other side, and to be occupied on that side in much the same functions as the medium is on this. The duty of controlling and transmitting messages seems to be laid upon such a one—it is his special work. The dramatic character of most of the controls is so vivid and self-consistent, that whatever any given sitter or experimenter may feel is the probable truth concerning their real nature, the simplest way is to humour them by taking them at their face value and treating them as separate and responsible and real individuals. It is true that in the case of some mediums, especially when overdone or tired, there are evanescent and absurd obtrusions every now and then, which cannot be seriously regarded. Those have to be eliminated; and for anyone to treat them as real people would be ludicrous; but undoubtedly the serious controls show a character and personality and memory of their own, and they appear to carry on as continuous an existence as anyone else whom one only meets occasionally for conversation. The conversation can be taken up at the point where it left off, and all that was said appears to be remarkably well remembered by the appropriate control; while usually memory of it is naturally and properly repudiated [ 358] by another control, even when operating through the same medium; and the entranced medium knows nothing of it afterwards after having completely woke up.
But no matter how much has been written on this topic, and whatever different opinions exist, it’s widely accepted that the dramatic appearance of the control definitely resembles a separate person—someone believed to exist permanently on the other side and to be engaged in similar functions as the medium is on this side. The responsibility of controlling and sending messages seems to fall on this individual—it’s their specific job. The dramatic personality of most of the controls is so striking and consistent that regardless of what any given sitter or experimenter may believe about their true nature, the easiest approach is to entertain them by taking them at face value and treating them as separate, responsible, and real individuals. It’s true that with some mediums, especially when they’re overworked or exhausted, there are occasional fleeting and ridiculous interruptions that can’t be taken seriously. Those need to be disregarded; treating them as real people would be silly. However, the serious controls undeniably exhibit their own character, personality, and memories, and they seem to maintain a continuous existence similar to anyone you might only meet occasionally for a chat. The conversation can pick up right where it left off, and everything that was discussed appears to be remarkably well remembered by the relevant control, while another control typically and rightly denies any memory of it, even when operating through the same medium; and the entranced medium has no recollection of it afterward after they fully wake up. [ 358]
So clearly is the personality of the control brought out, in the best cases, so clear also are the statements of the communicators that the control who is kindly transmitting their messages is a real person, that I am disposed to accept their assertions, and to regard a control, when not a mere mischievous and temporary impersonation, as akin on their side to the person whom we call a medium on ours.
So clearly is the personality of the control expressed, in the best cases, and so clear are the statements of the communicators that the control, who is kindly transmitting their messages, is a real person, that I am inclined to believe their claims and see a control, when not just a mischievous and temporary impersonation, as similar to the person we refer to as a medium on our side.
The process of regular communication—apart from the exceptional more direct privilege occasionally vouchsafed to people in extreme sorrow—thus seems to involve normally a double medium of communication, and the activity of several people. First there is the 'Communicator' or originator of ideas and messages on the other side. Then there is the 'control' who accepts and transmits the messages by setting into operation a physical organism lent for the occasion. Then there is the 'Medium' or person whose normal consciousness is in abeyance but whose physiological mechanism is being used. And finally there is the 'Sitter'—a rather absurd name—the recipient of the messages, who reads or hears and answers them, and for whose benefit all this trouble is taken. In many cases there is also present a Note-taker to record all that is said, whether by sitters or by or through the medium; and it is clear that the note-taker should pay special attention to and carefully record any hints or information either purposely or accidentally imparted by the sitter.
The process of regular communication—except for the rare occasions when individuals in deep sorrow are more directly connected—typically involves two-way communication and several people. First, there’s the 'Communicator,' who generates ideas and messages from the other side. Next, there’s the 'Control,' who receives and relays the messages by activating a physical being set up for the purpose. Then, there’s the 'Medium,' whose normal awareness is paused, but whose physiological system is being utilized. Lastly, there’s the 'Sitter'—a rather silly term—who receives the messages, interprets them, and responds, and for whose benefit all this effort is made. In many instances, a Note-taker is also present to document everything said, whether by sitters or through the medium; and it’s important that the note-taker pays close attention to and accurately records any hints or information given, whether intentionally or accidentally, by the sitter.
In scientific and more elaborately conducted cases there is also some one present who is known as the Experimenter in charge—a responsible and experienced person who looks after the health and safety of the medium, who arranges the circumstances and selects the sitters, making provision for anonymity and other precautions, and who frequently combines with his other functions the duties of note-taker.
In scientific and more thoroughly conducted cases, there's usually someone present known as the Experimenter in charge—a responsible and experienced person who oversees the health and safety of the medium, organizes the circumstances, and selects the participants while ensuring their anonymity and taking other precautions. This person often also takes on the role of note-taker.
In oral or voice sittings the function of the note-taker is more laborious and more responsible than in writing sittings; for these latter to a great extent supply their [ 359] own notes. Only as the trance-writing is blindfold, i.e. done with shut eyes and head averted, it is rather illegible without practice; and so the experimenter in charge frequently finds it necessary to assist the sitter, to whom it is addressed, by deciphering it and reading it aloud as it comes—rather a tiring process; at the same time jotting down, usually on the same paper, the remarks which the sitter makes in reply, or the questions from time to time asked. Unless this is done the subsequent automatic record lacks a good deal of clearness, and sometimes lacks intelligibility.
In oral or voice sessions, the note-taker's role is more demanding and carries more responsibility than in writing sessions; in the latter, participants often take their own notes. Because trance-writing is done with closed eyes and turned heads, it's often hard to read without practice. Therefore, the experimenter often has to help the sitter by deciphering it and reading it aloud as it comes, which can be pretty exhausting. At the same time, they usually write down on the same paper the sitter's comments or any questions that come up. If this isn't done, the resulting automatic record can be quite unclear and sometimes even unintelligible.
For a voice-sitting the note-taker must be a rapid writer, and if able to employ shorthand has an advantage. Sometimes a stenographer is introduced; but the presence of a stranger, or of any person not intimately concerned, is liable to hamper the distinctness and fulness of a message; and may prevent or retard the occurrence of such emotional episodes as are from time to time almost inevitable in the cases—alas too numerous at present—where the sitter has been recently and violently bereaved.
For a voice session, the note-taker needs to be a quick writer, and knowing shorthand gives them an edge. Sometimes a stenographer is brought in, but having an outsider there, or anyone not closely involved, can disrupt the clarity and completeness of the message; it might also stop or delay emotional moments that often occur—sadly too often these days—when the person sitting has recently experienced a traumatic loss.
It is perhaps noteworthy—though it may not be interesting or intelligible to a novice—that communicators wishing to give private communications seldom or never object to the presence of the actual 'medium'—i.e. the one on our side. That person seems to be regarded as absent, or practically non-existent for a time; the person whose presence they sometimes resent at first is the 'control,' i.e. the intelligence on their side who is ready to receive and transmit their message, somewhat perhaps as an Eastern scribe is ready to write the love-letters of illiterate persons.
It’s maybe worth noting—though it might not be interesting or understandable to a beginner—that communicators who want to share private messages rarely object to the presence of the actual 'medium'—i.e. the one on our side. That person seems to be viewed as absent, or almost non-existent for a while; the person they sometimes feel uncomfortable with at first is the 'control,' i.e. the intelligence on their side that’s ready to receive and send their message, somewhat like an Eastern scribe ready to write love letters for people who can’t read or write.
As to the presence of a note-taker or third person on our side, such person is taken note of by the control, and when anything private or possibly private is mentioned—details of illnesses or such like—that third person is often ordered out of the room. Sometimes the experimenter in charge is likewise politely dispensed with, and under these circumstances the sitting occasionally takes on a poignant character in which note-taking by the deeply affected sitter becomes a practical impossibility. But this experience is comparatively rare; it must not be expected, and cannot wisely be forced.
As for having a note-taker or another person with us, that person is noted by the control, and whenever something private or potentially private is discussed—like details about illnesses—that third person is often asked to leave the room. Sometimes, the experimenter in charge is also kindly asked to step out, and in these situations, the session can sometimes become so emotional that note-taking by the deeply affected participant becomes practically impossible. However, this experience is quite rare; it shouldn't be anticipated, and it can't be wisely forced.
Another circumstance which makes me think that the
more responsible kind of control is a real person, is that
sometimes, after gained experience, the Communicator himself
takes control, and speaks or writes in the first person,
not only as a matter of first-person-reporting, which frequently
occurs, but really in his own proper person and with
many of his old characteristics. So if one control is a real
person I see no reason against the probability of others
being real likewise. I cannot say that the tone of voice or
the handwriting is often thus reproduced—though it is, for
a few moments, by special effort sometimes; but the unusual
physiological mechanism accounts for outstanding or
residual differences. Apart from that, the peculiarities,
the attitudes, the little touches of manner, are often more
or less faithfully reproduced, although the medium may
have known nothing of the person concerned. And the
characteristic quality of the message, and the kind of subjects
dealt with, become still more marked in such cases
of actual control, than when everything has to be transmitted
through a kindly stranger control, to whom things
of a recondite or technical character may appear rather as
a meaningless collocation of words, very difficult to remember
and reproduce.
Another thing that makes me believe the more responsible type of control is a real person is that sometimes, after gaining experience, the Communicator themselves takes control and speaks or writes in the first person, not just as a way of reporting but truly as their own self, with many of their old traits. So if one control is a real person, I see no reason to doubt that others could be real too. I can't say that the tone of voice or the handwriting is always reproduced—though it can be for a few moments with special effort sometimes—but the unusual physiological mechanisms explain the outstanding or leftover differences. Besides that, the peculiarities, attitudes, and little mannerisms are often reproduced more or less accurately, even if the medium knew nothing about the person involved. The distinctive quality of the message and the types of subjects discussed become even more pronounced in cases of actual control than when everything has to go through a friendly stranger control, who may find topics that are obscure or technical to be just a confusing string of words that are very hard to remember and reproduce.
NOTE ON DIFFICULTY OF REMEMBERING NAMES
When operating indirectly in the ordinary way through a control and a medium, it usually appears to be remarkably difficult to get names transmitted. Most mediums are able to convey a name only with difficulty. Now plainly a name, especially the proper name of a person, is a very conventional and meaningless thing: it has very few links to connect it with other items in memory; and hence arises the normally well-known difficulty of recalling one. Conscious effort made to recover a name seems to inhibit the power of doing so: the best plan is to leave it, and let subconsciousness work. An example occurred to me the other day, when I tried to remember the name of a prominent statesman or ex-Prime Minister whom I had met in Australia. What I seemed to recollect was that the name began with "D," and I made several shots at it, which I recorded. The effort went on at intervals for days, since I thought it would be an instructive experiment. I know now, a month or two later, without any effort and without looking it up, that the name was Deakin; but what my shots at it were I do not remember. I will have the page in the note-book looked up and reproduced here, as an [ 361] example of memory-groping, at intervals, during more than one day. Here they are:—D. Dering, Denman, Deeming, Derriman, Derring, Deeley, Dempster, Denting, Desman, Deering.
When trying to get names communicated through a control and a medium, it can be surprisingly difficult. Most mediums have a hard time conveying a name. Obviously, a name, especially a person’s proper name, is pretty basic and doesn’t hold much meaning on its own; it has few connections to other memories, which explains why recalling one can be challenging. Making a conscious effort to remember a name seems to actually make it harder: the best approach is to step back and let the subconscious take charge. I recently experienced this when I was trying to recall the name of a well-known statesman or former Prime Minister I met in Australia. I thought it started with "D," and I made several guesses, writing them down. I continued this over the course of several days because I thought it would be an interesting experiment. Now, a month or two later, without any effort or looking it up, I realized that the name was Deakin; however, I don’t remember my guesses. I'll check my notebook and share it here as an [ 361] example of trying to remember over more than one day. Here are my guesses:—D. Dering, Denman, Deeming, Derriman, Derring, Deeley, Dempster, Denting, Desman, Deering.
Now I knew the name quite well, and have known it for long, and have taken some interest in the gentleman who owns it; and I am known by some members of my family to have done so. Hence if I had been on 'the other side' and could only get as far as D, it would have seemed rather absurd to anyone whose memory for names is good. But indeed I have had times when names very much more familiar to me than that could not on the spur of the moment be recalled—not always even the initial letter; though, for some reason or other, the initial letter is certainly easier than the word.
Now I knew the name pretty well, had known it for a long time, and I’ve shown interest in the person it belongs to; some of my family members know that I’ve looked into it. So if I had been 'on the other side' and could only get as far as D, it would have seemed a bit ridiculous to anyone with a good memory for names. But honestly, there have been times when names I know much better than that just wouldn’t come to mind on the spot—not even the first letter sometimes; although, for some reason, the first letter is definitely easier to remember than the whole name.
The kind of shots which I made at the name before recalling it—which it may seem frivolous to have actually recorded—are reminiscent of the kind of shots which are made by mediums under control when they too are striving after a name; and it was a perception of this analogy which caused me to jot down my own guesses, or what, in the case of a medium, we should impolitely call 'fishing.' I think that the name was certainly in my memory though it would not come through my brain. The effort is like the effort to use a muscle not often or ever used—say the outer ear—one does not know which string to pull, so to speak, or, more accurately, which nerve to stimulate, and the result is a peculiarly helpless feeling, akin to stammering. In the case of a medium, I suppose the name is often in the mind of the communicator, but it will not come through the control. The control sometimes describes it as being spoken or shown but not clearly caught. The communicator often does not know whether a medium has successfully conveyed it or not.
The kinds of attempts I made at remembering the name—what might seem silly to actually write down—are similar to what mediums do when trying to access a name. This realization about the similarity led me to jot down my own guesses, or what, in the context of a medium, we might bluntly call 'fishing.' I believe the name was definitely in my memory even though it wouldn’t come to me. The effort feels like trying to use a muscle that’s rarely or never used—like the outer ear—you’re unsure which string to pull, so to speak, or more accurately, which nerve to activate, and it leaves a strangely powerless feeling, similar to stuttering. In the case of a medium, I imagine the name is often in the mind of the person communicating, but it doesn’t come through clearly. The control sometimes describes it as being spoken or shown but not fully grasped. The communicator often can’t tell if the medium has successfully relayed it or not.
CHAPTER 14
DIFFERENT MIND-BODY TECHNIQUES
"If man, then, shall attempt to sound and fathom the depths
that lie not without him, but within, analogy may surely warn
him that the first attempts of his rude psychoscopes to give precision
and actuality to thought will grope among 'beggarly elements'—will
be concerned with things grotesque, or trivial, or
obscure. Yet here also one handsbreadth of reality gives better
footing than all the castles of our dream; here also by beginning
with the least things we shall best learn how great things may
remain to do."—F. W. H. M., Introduction to Phantasms of the
Living
"If a person tries to explore the depths that lie not outside of them, but within, they may be reminded by analogy that their initial attempts with their basic psychoscopes to bring clarity and reality to thought will likely struggle with 'beggarly elements'—focusing on things that are strange, trivial, or unclear. Yet, even here, a small piece of reality provides a firmer foundation than all the castles of our imagination; by starting with the smallest things, we will best learn how much greater things still need to be done."—F. W. H. M., Introduction to Phantasms of the Living
I MUST not shirk a rather queer subject which yet needs touching upon, though it bristles with theoretical difficulties; and that is the rationale of one of the most elementary methods of ultra-normal communication, a method which many find practically the easiest to begin with.
I must not avoid a rather strange topic that still needs to be addressed, even though it comes with some theoretical challenges; and that is the reasoning behind one of the most basic methods of ultra-normal communication, a method that many find to be the easiest to start with.
It is possible to get communication of a kind, not by holding a pencil in the fingers, but by placing the hand on a larger piece of wood not at all adapted for writing with. The movements are then coarser, and the code more elementary; but in principle, when the procedure is analysed, it is seen not to be essentially different. It may be more akin to semaphore-arm signalling or flag-wagging; but any device whereby mental activity can translate itself into movements of matter will serve for subliminal as well as for conscious action; and messages by tilting of a table, though crude and elementary, are not really so surprising or absurd as at first sight they seem. The tilts of a telegraphic operator's key are still more restricted; but they serve. A pen or pencil is an inanimate piece of matter guided by the fingers. A planchette is a mere piece of wood, and when [ 363] touched it must be presumed to be guided by the muscles,—though there is often an illusion, as with the twig of the dowser, that the inanimate object is moved directly, and not by muscular intervention. So also we may assume that a table or other piece of furniture is tilted or moved by regular muscular force: certainly it can only move at the expense of the energy of the medium or of people present. And yet in all these cases the substance of the message may be foreign to the mind of anyone touching the instrument, and the guidance necessary for sense and relevance need not be exercised by their own consciousness.
It’s possible to communicate in a way that doesn’t involve holding a pencil, but instead by placing a hand on a larger piece of wood that isn’t really meant for writing. The movements are rougher, and the code is more basic; however, when you break it down, it’s not fundamentally different. It might be more similar to semaphore signaling or flag waving, but any method that allows mental activity to turn into physical movement can be used for both subconscious and conscious actions. Messages sent by tilting a table, even if they seem simple and primitive at first, aren’t actually as strange or ridiculous as they appear. The tilts made by a telegraph operator's key are even more limited, but they still work. A pen or pencil is just a lifeless object guided by someone’s fingers. A planchette is just a piece of wood; when it’s touched, it’s assumed to be moved by muscles—though there’s often an illusion, like with a divining rod, that the lifeless object is being directly moved rather than being influenced by muscular effort. Similarly, we can assume that a table or other furniture is tilted or moved by consistent muscular force: it can only move because of the energy from the person using it or those around them. And yet, in all these instances, the actual content of the message might be completely unfamiliar to anyone handling the instrument, and the necessary guidance for meaning and relevance doesn’t have to come from their own awareness.
When a table or similar rough instrument is employed, the ostensible communicators say that they feel more directly in touch with the sitters than when they operate through an intermediary or 'control' on their side,—as they appear to find it necessary to do for actual speech or writing,—and accordingly they find themselves able to give more private messages, and also to reproduce names and technicalities with greater facility and precision. The process of spelling out words in this way is a slow one, much slower than writing, and therefore the method labours under disadvantages, but it seems to possess advantages which to some extent counterbalance them.
When a table or similar rough instrument is used, the apparent communicators say they feel more directly connected with the sitters than when they communicate through an intermediary or 'control' on their end, which they seem to need for actual speech or writing. As a result, they’re able to deliver more personal messages and can also reproduce names and specific terms with greater ease and accuracy. The process of spelling out words this way is slow, much slower than writing, and therefore has its drawbacks, but it seems to offer advantages that somewhat make up for them.
Whether it sounds credible or not, and it is certainly surprising, I must testify that when a thing of any mobility is controlled in this more direct way, it is able to convey touches of emotion and phases of intonation, so to speak, in a most successful manner. A telegraph key could hardly do it, its range of movement is too restricted, it operates only in a discontinuous manner, by make and break; but a light table, under these conditions, seems no longer inert, it behaves as if animated. For the time it is animated—somewhat perhaps as a violin or piano is animated by a skilled musician and schooled to his will,—and the dramatic action thus attained is very remarkable. It can exhibit hesitation, it can exhibit certainty; it can seek for information, it can convey it; it can apparently ponder before giving a reply; it can welcome a new-comer; it can indicate joy or sorrow, fun or gravity; it can keep time with a song as if joining in the chorus; and, most notable [ 364] of all, it can exhibit affection in an unmistakable manner.
Whether it sounds believable or not, and it definitely is surprising, I have to say that when something with any kind of movement is controlled in a more direct way, it can express emotions and tones in a very effective way. A telegraph key can hardly manage that; its range of movement is too limited, and it works only in a stop-and-go manner. But a light table, under these conditions, doesn’t seem lifeless anymore; it acts like it’s alive. For the duration it is alive—somewhat like how a violin or piano is brought to life by a skilled musician—it displays remarkable dramatic action. It can show hesitation, it can show confidence; it can search for information, it can deliver it; it can seem to think before responding; it can greet a newcomer; it can express joy or sadness, fun or seriousness; it can keep rhythm with a song as if it’s joining in the chorus; and, most importantly, it can show affection in a clear way.
The hand of a writing medium can do these things too; and that the whole body of a normal person can display these emotions is a commonplace. Yet they are all pieces of matter, though some are more permanently animated than others. But all are animated temporarily,—not one of them permanently,—and there appears to be no sharp line of demarcation. What we have to realise is that matter in any form is able to act as agent to the soul, and that by aid of matter various emotions as well as intelligence can be temporarily incarnated and displayed.
The hand of a writer can do these things too; and it's well-known that the whole body of a regular person can express these emotions. However, they are all made of matter, with some being more consistently animated than others. But all are only temporarily animated—none of them permanently—and there's no clear boundary between them. What we need to understand is that matter, in any form, can act as a conduit for the soul, and that with the help of matter, various emotions and even intelligence can be temporarily embodied and expressed.
The extraction of elementary music from all manner of unlikely objects—kitchen utensils, for instance—is a known stage-performance. The utilisation of unlikely objects for purposes of communication, though it would not have been expected, may have to be included in the same general category.
The extraction of basic music from all sorts of unexpected objects—like kitchen utensils, for example—is a familiar type of stage performance. The use of unusual objects for communication, while it might not have been anticipated, may need to be classified in the same broad category.
With things made for the purpose, from a violin to the puppets of a marionette show, we know that simple human passions can be shown and can be roused. With things made for quiet other purposes it turns out that the same sort of possibility exists.
With objects designed for specific uses, like a violin or the puppets in a marionette show, we understand that basic human emotions can be expressed and stirred. Surprisingly, even with things created for more subdued purposes, the same potential is present.
Table-tilting is an old and despised form of amusement, known to many families and often wisely discarded; but with care and sobriety and seriousness even this can be used as a means of communication; and the amount of mediumistic power necessary for this elementary form of psychic activity appears to be distinctly less than would be required for more elaborate methods.
Table-tilting is a long-standing and disliked form of entertainment, familiar to many families and often rightly dismissed; however, with carefulness, seriousness, and focus, it can still serve as a way to communicate. The level of mediumistic energy required for this basic type of psychic activity seems to be noticeably lower than what would be needed for more complex methods.
One thing it is necessary clearly to realise and admit, namely that in all cases when an object is moved by direct contact of an operator's body, whether the instrument be a pencil or a piece of wood, unconscious muscular guidance must be allowed for; and anything that comes through of a kind known to or suspected by the operator must be discounted. Sometimes, however, the message comes in an unexpected and for the moment puzzling form, and sometimes it conveys information unknown to him. It is by the content of the communication that its supernormal value must be estimated.
One thing we need to clearly understand and acknowledge is that whenever an object is moved by direct contact with a person's body, whether the tool is a pencil or a piece of wood, we have to consider unconscious muscle movements. Any outcome that aligns with what the person knows or suspects must be disregarded. However, sometimes the message appears in an unexpected and momentarily confusing way, and at times it provides information that the person isn't aware of. The value of the communication needs to be judged by its content.
There are many obvious disadvantages about a Table Sitting, especially in the slowness of the communications and in the fact that the sitter has to do most of the talking; whereas when some personality is controlling a medium, the sitters need say very little.
There are some clear drawbacks to using a Table Sitting, especially how slow the communication can be and the fact that the sitter has to do most of the talking; in contrast, when a personality is in control of a medium, the sitters hardly need to say anything.
But, as said above, there are some communicators who object to a control's presence, especially if they have anything private to say; and these often prefer the table because it seems to bring them more directly into contact with the sitter, without an intermediary. They seem to ignore the presence of the medium on our side, notwithstanding the fact that, at a table sitting, she is present in her own consciousness and is aware of what goes on; they appear to be satisfied with having dispensed with the medium on their side. Moreover, it is in some cases found that information can be conveyed in a briefer and more direct manner, not having to be wrapped up in roundabout phrases, that names can be given more easily, and direct questions answered better, through the table than through a control.
However, as mentioned earlier, some communicators don’t like having a control present, especially if they have personal things to share; they often prefer using the table because it feels like it connects them more directly with the sitter, without any intermediary. They seem to ignore the fact that the medium is still there on our side, fully aware of what's going on; they seem satisfied with having excluded the medium from their side. Additionally, it’s sometimes found that information can be shared more clearly and directly, without the need for unnecessary phrasing, that names can be easily provided, and direct questions get better answers through the table than through a control.
It must be remembered that under control every medium has some peculiarities. Mrs. Leonard, for instance, is a very straightforward and honest medium, but not a particularly strong one. Accordingly anything like conversation and free interchange of ideas is hardly possible, and direct questions seldom receive direct answers, when put to the communicator through Feda.
It’s important to note that under control, every medium has its own unique characteristics. For instance, Mrs. Leonard is very straightforward and honest, but she's not particularly strong. As a result, having a conversation or exchanging ideas is quite challenging, and direct questions rarely get straightforward answers when asked of the communicator through Feda.
I have known mediums much more powerful in this respect, so that free conversation with one or two specially skilled communicators was quite possible, and interchange of ideas almost as easy as when the communicator was in the flesh. But instances of that kind are hardly to be expected among hard-worked professional mediums.
I have known mediums who are much more effective in this regard, allowing for open conversation with one or two exceptionally skilled communicators, making the exchange of ideas almost as effortless as when the communicator was alive. However, such examples are rarely found among busy professional mediums.
I shall not in this volume touch upon still more puzzling and still more directly and peculiarly physical phenomena, such as are spoken of as 'direct voice,' 'direct writing,' and 'materialisation.' In these strange and, from one point of view, more advanced occurrences, though lower in another sense, inert matter appears to be operated on without the direct intervention of physiological mechanism. And yet such mechanism must be in the neighbourhood. I am inclined to think that these weird phenomena, when established, will be found to shade off into those other methods that I have been speaking of, and that no complete theory of either can be given until more is known about both. This is one of the facts which causes me to be undogmatic about the certainty that all movements, even under contact, are initiated in the muscles. I only here hold up a warning against premature decision. The whole subject of psycho-physical [ 366] interaction and activity requires attention in due time and place; but the ground is now more treacherous, the pitfalls more numerous, and the territory to many minds comparatively unattractive. Let it wait until long-range artillery has beaten down some of the entanglements, before organised forces are summoned to advance.
I won't discuss even more puzzling and particularly physical phenomena in this volume, like 'direct voice,' 'direct writing,' and 'materialization.' In these strange and, from one perspective, more advanced events—though lower in another way—inert matter seems to be acted upon without direct involvement of physiological mechanisms. Still, those mechanisms must be nearby. I believe these bizarre phenomena, once established, will likely blend into the other methods I've mentioned, and that we can't fully understand either until we learn more about both. This is one of the reasons I remain open-minded about the certainty that all movements, even with contact, begin in the muscles. I'm just cautioning against jumping to conclusions. The entire topic of psycho-physical interaction and activity deserves attention in the right time and place; however, the current landscape is more treacherous, with more pitfalls and the territory being relatively unappealing to many. Let's wait until long-range strategies have cleared some of the obstacles before we organize our efforts to move forward.
CHAPTER 15
ATTITUDE OF THE WISE AND CAUTIOUS
"The vagueness and confusion inevitable at the beginning of
a novel line of research, [are] naturally distasteful to the savant
accustomed to proceed by measurable increments of knowledge
from experimental bases already assured. Such an one, if he
reads this book, may feel as though he had been called away from
an ordnance survey, conducted with a competent staff and familiar
instruments, to plough slowly with inexperienced mariners through
some strange ocean where beds of entangling seaweed cumber
the trackless way. We accept the analogy; but we would remind
him that even floating weeds of novel genera may foreshow a land
unknown; and that it was not without ultimate gain to men
that the straining keels of Columbus first pressed through the
Sargasso Sea."—F. W. H. M., Introduction to Phantasms of the
Living
The uncertainty and confusion that come with starting a new area of research are understandably frustrating for the expert who is used to advancing through clear, measurable knowledge based on established experiments. Someone like that, if they read this book, might feel like they’ve been pulled away from a well-managed survey, using reliable tools and a skilled team, to slowly navigate the unpredictable waters with inexperienced sailors in an unfamiliar ocean, where tangled seaweed obstructs their path. We accept this comparison, but we’d like to remind them that even strange floating plants can hint at undiscovered land, and it wasn't without significant benefit for humanity that Columbus's ships first sailed through the Sargasso Sea. —F. W. H. M., Introduction to Phantasms of the Living
IT is rather remarkable that the majority of learned men have closed their minds to what have seemed bare and simple facts to many people. Those who call themselves spiritualists have an easy and simple faith; they interpret their experiences in the most straightforward and unsophisticated manner, and some of them have shown unfortunately that they can be led into credulity and error, without much difficulty, by unscrupulous people. Nevertheless, that simple-hearted folk are most accessible to new facts seems to be rather accordant with history. Whenever, not by reasoning but by direct experience, knowledge has been enlarged, or when a revelation has come to the human race through the agency of higher powers, it is not the wise but the simple who are first to receive it. This cannot be used as an argument either way; the simple may be mistaken, and may too blithely interpret their sense-impressions in the most obvious manner; just as on the other hand the eyes of the [ 368] learned may be closed to anything which appears disconnected from their previous knowledge. For after all it is inevitable that any really new order of things must be so disconnected; some little time must elapse before the weight of facts impel the learned in a new direction, and meanwhile the unlearned may be absorbing direct experience, and in their own fashion may be forging ahead. It is an example of the ancient paradox propounded in and about 1 Cor. i. 26; and no fault need be found with what is natural.
It’s quite remarkable that most educated people have shut themselves off from what seems like simple facts to many others. Those who identify as spiritualists have a straightforward, uncomplicated belief system; they interpret their experiences in a clear and honest way, yet unfortunately, some have shown they can easily fall into gullibility and deception by unscrupulous individuals. Still, it appears that open-minded individuals are usually more receptive to new facts, as history suggests. Whenever knowledge has expanded through direct experience rather than reasoning, or when a revelation has come to humanity through higher powers, it's often the simple-minded, not the wise, who are the first to embrace it. This isn’t a strong argument for either side; the simple might be wrong and might too casually interpret their impressions in obvious ways, just as the educated might ignore anything that seems unrelated to what they already know. After all, it’s unavoidable that any genuinely new situation will appear disconnected; some time will pass before the weight of facts pushes the educated in a new direction, while the uneducated may be soaking in direct experiences and, in their own way, advancing. This illustrates the ancient paradox mentioned in 1 Cor. i. 26, and there's no fault to find in what is natural.
It behoves me to mention in particular the attitude of men of science, of whom I may say quorum pars parva fui; for in no way do I wish to dissociate myself from either such stricture or such praise as may be appropriate to men who have made a study of science their vocation,—not indeed the peaks of the race, but the general body. For it is safe to assume that we must have some qualities in common, and that these must be among the causes which have switched us on to a laborious and materially unremunerative road.
It’s important for me to specifically mention the attitude of scientists, of whom I can say quorum pars parva fui; because I don’t want to distance myself from either the criticisms or the praise that may be fitting for those who have dedicated their lives to studying science—not necessarily the top achievers, but the broader community. It’s reasonable to assume that we share some qualities in common, and that these qualities are part of the reasons that led us to choose a demanding and financially unrewarding path.
Michael Foster said in his Presidential Address to the British Association at Dover:—
Michael Foster stated in his Presidential Address to the British Association in Dover:—
"Men of science have no peculiar virtues, no special powers. They are ordinary men, their characters are common, even commonplace. Science, as Huxley said, is organised common sense, and men of science are common men, drilled in the ways of common sense."
"Scientists don't possess unique virtues or special skills. They are just regular individuals, and their personalities are quite normal, even unremarkable. Science, as Huxley described it, is organized common sense, and scientists are everyday people trained in the methods of common sense."
This of course, like any aphorism, does not bear pressing unduly: and Dr. Arthur Schuster in a similar Address at Manchester hedged it round with qualifying clauses:—
This, of course, like any saying, shouldn't be pushed too hard: and Dr. Arthur Schuster, in a similar speech in Manchester, surrounded it with qualifying statements:—
"This saying of Huxley's has been repeated so often that one almost wishes it were true; but unfortunately I cannot find a definition of common sense that fits the phrase. Sometimes the word is used as if it were identical with uncommon sense, sometimes as if it were the same thing as common nonsense. Often it means untrained intelligence, and in its best aspect it is, I think, that faculty which recognises that the obvious solution of a problem is frequently the right one. When, for instance, I [ 369] see during a total solar eclipse red flames shooting out from the edge of the sun, the obvious explanation is that these are real phenomena, caused by masses of glowing vapours ejected from the sun. And when a learned friend tells me that all this is an optical illusion due to anomalous refraction, I object on the ground that the explanation violates my common sense. He replies by giving me the reasons which have led him to his conclusions; and though I still believe that I am right, I have to meet him with a more substantial reply than an appeal to my own convictions. Against a solid argument common sense has no power, and must remain a useful but fallible guide which both leads and misleads all classes of the community alike."
"Huxley's saying has been repeated so much that you almost wish it were true; unfortunately, I can't find a definition of common sense that fits the phrase. Sometimes, it feels like people use it interchangeably with uncommon sense, and other times, it seems like just common nonsense. Often, it refers to untrained intelligence, and at its best, it's that ability to see that the obvious solution to a problem is usually the right one. For example, when I see red flames shooting from the edge of the sun during a total solar eclipse, the obvious explanation is that these are real phenomena caused by glowing vapors ejected from the sun. But when a knowledgeable friend tells me it’s just an optical illusion due to unusual refraction, I argue because that explanation contradicts my common sense. He responds by explaining the reasons behind his conclusions, and even though I still think I'm right, I need to come up with something more substantial than just my own beliefs. Common sense can’t stand up to a strong argument and has to remain a helpful but imperfect guide that can lead and mislead all parts of society equally."
The sound moral of this is, not that a common-sense explanation is likely to be the right one, or that it necessarily has any merits if there are sound reasons to oppose to it, but that the common sense or most obvious and superficial explanation may turn out to be after all truer as well as simpler than more recondite hypotheses which have been substituted for it. In other words—the straightforward explanation need not be false.
The key takeaway here is not that a common-sense explanation is probably the right one, or that it has any value if there are good reasons against it, but that the most straightforward and obvious explanation might actually be truer and simpler than the more complex theories that have taken its place. In other words—the simple explanation doesn’t have to be wrong.
Now the phenomena encountered in psychical research have long ago suggested an explanation, in terms of other than living human intelligences, which may be properly called spiritistic. Every kind of alternative explanation, including the almost equally unorthodox one of telepathy from living people, has been tried: and these attempts have been necessary and perfectly legitimate. If they had succeeded, well and good; but inasmuch as in my judgment there are phenomena which they cannot explain, and inasmuch as some form of spiritistic hypothesis, given certain postulates, explains practically all, I have found myself driven back on what I may call the common-sense explanation; or, to adopt Dr. Schuster's parable, I consider that the red flames round the sun are what they appear to be.
Now, the phenomena encountered in psychical research have long suggested an explanation that involves intelligences beyond living humans, which can be rightly called spiritistic. All kinds of alternative explanations have been tested, including the almost equally unorthodox idea of telepathy from living people, and these attempts have been both necessary and perfectly valid. If they had worked, great! But since, in my opinion, there are phenomena they can't explain, and since some form of spiritistic hypothesis, given certain assumptions, accounts for nearly everything, I've found myself reverting to what I consider the common-sense explanation; or, to use Dr. Schuster's analogy, I believe the red flames around the sun are exactly what they seem to be.
To attribute capricious mechanical performance to the
action of live things, is sufficient as a proximate explanation;
as we saw in the case of the jumping bean, Chapter
I. If the existence of the live thing is otherwise unknown,
[ 370]
the explanation may seem forced and unsatisfactory. But
if after trying other hypotheses we find that this only will
fit the case, we may return to it after all with a clear
conscience. That represents the history of my own progress
in Psychical Research.
Attributing unpredictable mechanical behavior to living beings is enough as a basic explanation; like we saw with the jumping bean in Chapter I. If we don’t know anything else about the living being’s existence, [ 370] the explanation might feel forced and unsatisfactory. However, if after exploring other theories we find that this is the only one that fits, we can go back to it with a clear conscience. That reflects my own journey in Psychical Research.
Apology
Meanwhile the attitude of scientific men is perfectly intelligible; and not unreasonable, except when they forget their self-imposed limitations and cultivate a baseless negative philosophy. People who study mechanism of course find Mechanics, and if the mechanism is physiological they find Physics and Chemistry as well; but they are not thereby compelled to deny the existence of everything else. They need not philosophise at all, though they should be able to realise their philosophical position when it is pointed out. The business of science is to trace out the mode of action of the laws of Chemistry and Physics, everywhere and under all circumstances. Those laws appear to be of universal application throughout the material Universe,—in the most distant star as well as on the earth,—in the animal organism as well as in inorganic matter; and the study of their action alone has proved an ample task.
Meanwhile, the perspective of scientists is completely understandable, and it's not unreasonable, except when they overlook their own limitations and adopt an unfounded negative philosophy. People who study mechanisms naturally discover Mechanics, and if the mechanism is physiological, they also encounter Physics and Chemistry; however, this doesn’t force them to deny the existence of everything else. They don’t have to engage in philosophy at all, although they should be able to recognize their philosophical stance when it's highlighted. The goal of science is to trace the workings of the laws of Chemistry and Physics, everywhere and in all situations. These laws seem to apply universally throughout the material Universe—whether in the most distant star or on Earth—within living organisms as well as in inorganic matter; and the study of their effects alone has proven to be a sufficient challenge.
But scientific workers are sometimes thought to be philosophising seriously when they should be understood as really only expressing the natural scope of their special subject. Laplace, for instance, is often misunderstood, because, when challenged about the place of God in his system, he said that he had no need of such a hypothesis,—a dictum often quoted as if it were atheistical. It is not necessarily anything of the kind. As a brief statement it is right, though rather unconciliatory and blunt. He was trying to explain astronomy on clear and definite mechanical principles, and the introduction of a "finger of God" would have been not only an unwarrantable complication but a senseless intrusion. Not an intrusion or a complication in the Universe, be it understood, but in Laplace's scheme, his Systéme du Monde. Yet Browning's "flash of the will that can" in Abt Vogler, with all that [ 371] the context implies, remains essentially and permanently true.
But sometimes people think that scientists are seriously overthinking when they’re really just expressing the natural limits of their specific field. For example, Laplace is often misinterpreted because when asked about the role of God in his theory, he stated that he had no need for such a hypothesis—this quote is often cited as if it were atheistic. It's not necessarily that at all. As a brief statement, it’s accurate, though somewhat unyielding and blunt. He was trying to explain astronomy through clear and definite mechanical principles, and introducing a "finger of God" would have added an unnecessary complication and made no sense. This wouldn’t be an intrusion or complication in the Universe itself, but rather in Laplace's framework, his Systéme du Monde. However, Browning's "flash of the will that can" in Abt Vogler, with all the context it suggests, remains fundamentally and permanently true.
Theologians who admit that the Deity always works through agents and rational means can grant to scientific workers all that they legitimately claim in the positive direction, and can encourage them in the detailed study of those agents and means. If people knew more about science, and the atmosphere in which scientific men work, they would be better able to interpret occasional rather rash negations; which are quite explicable in terms of the artificial limitation of range which physical science hitherto has wisely laid down for itself.
Theologians who recognize that God always operates through agents and rational methods can acknowledge all that scientists rightfully assert in a positive light, and can support them in their thorough examination of those agents and methods. If more people understood science and the environment in which scientists operate, they would be better equipped to understand the occasional hasty rejections, which are totally understandable considering the deliberate limitations that physical science has rightly imposed on itself so far.
It is a true instinct which resents the mediæval practice of freely introducing occult and unknown causes into working science. To attribute the rise of sap, for instance, to a 'vital force' would be absurd, it would be giving up the problem and stating nothing at all. Progress in science began when spiritual and transcendental causes were eliminated and treated as non-existent. The simplicity so attained was congenial to the scientific type of mind; the abstraction was eminently useful, and was justified by results. Yet unknown causes of an immaterial and even of a spiritual kind may in reality exist, and may influence or produce phenomena, for all that; and it may have to be the business of science to discover and begin to attend to them, as soon as the ordinary solid ground-plan of Nature has been made sufficiently secure.
It’s a natural instinct to resist the medieval habit of casually introducing mysterious and unknown causes into practical science. To say that the rise of sap, for example, is due to a 'vital force' would be ridiculous; it would mean avoiding the question and saying nothing meaningful at all. Scientific progress started when spiritual and transcendent causes were removed from consideration and treated as if they didn’t exist. The resulting simplicity appealed to the scientific mindset; the abstraction proved to be very useful and was validated by results. However, unknown causes that are intangible and perhaps even spiritual could actually exist and may impact or create phenomena. Eventually, it might become the responsibility of science to explore and pay attention to these causes, once the basic foundation of Nature has been made solid enough.
Some of us—whether wisely or unwisely—now want to enlarge the recognised scope of physical science, so as gradually to take a wider purview and include more of the totality of things. That is what the Society for Psychical Research was established for,—to begin extending the range of scientific law and order, by patient exploration in a comparatively new region. The effort has been resented, and at first ridiculed, only because misunderstood. The effort may be ambitious, but it is perfectly legitimate; and if it fails it fails.
Some of us—whether wisely or not—now want to expand the recognized boundaries of physical science to gradually take a broader view and include more of everything. That’s what the Society for Psychical Research was set up for: to start extending the range of scientific law and order through careful exploration in a relatively new area. This effort has faced opposition and was initially mocked simply because it was misunderstood. The endeavor may be ambitious, but it is entirely legitimate; and if it fails, then it fails.
But advance in new directions may be wisely slow, and it is readily admissible that Societies devoted to long-established branches of science are right to resist extraneous novelties, as long as possible, and leave the study of occult phenomena to a Society established for the purpose. [ 372] Outlandish territories may in time be incorporated as States, but they must make their claim good and become civilised first.
But moving forward in new ways can be a smart process, and it's understandable that organizations focused on well-established fields of science are justified in resisting outside novelties for as long as they can, leaving the exploration of mysterious phenomena to a Society created specifically for that purpose. [ 372] Unusual regions might eventually become States, but they need to prove themselves and become civilized first.
Yet unfamiliar causes must be introduced occasionally into systematised knowledge, unless our scrutiny of the Universe is already exhaustive. Unpalatable facts can be ruled out from attention, but they cannot without investigation be denied. Strange facts do really happen, even though unprovided for in our sciences. Amid their orthodox relations, they may be regarded as a nuisance. The feeling they cause is as if capricious or mischievous live things had been allowed to intrude into the determinate apparatus of a physical laboratory, thereby introducing hopeless complexity and appearing superficially to interfere with established laws. To avoid such alien incursion a laboratory can be locked, but the Universe can not. And if ever, under any circumstances, we actually do encounter the interaction of intelligences other than that of living men, we shall sooner or later become aware of the fact, and shall ultimately have to admit it into a more comprehensive scheme of existence. Early attempts, like those of the present, must be unsatisfactory and crude; especially as the evidence is of a kind to which scientific men for the most part are unaccustomed; so no wonder they are resentful. Still the evidence is there, and I for one cannot ignore it. Members of the Society for Psychical Research are aware that the evidence already published—the carefully edited and sifted evidence published by their own organisation—occupies some forty volumes of Journal and Proceedings; and some of them know that a great deal more evidence exists than has been published, and that some of the best evidence is not likely to be published,—not yet at any rate. It stands to reason that, at the present stage, the best evidence must often be of a very private and family character. Many, however, are the persons who are acquainted with facts in their own experience which appeal to them more strongly than anything that has ever been published. No records can surpass first-hand direct experience in cogency.
Yet unfamiliar causes must occasionally be introduced into organized knowledge, unless our examination of the Universe is already complete. Unpleasant facts can be ignored, but they can't be dismissed without investigation. Strange events do happen, even if they're not accounted for in our sciences. Within their established contexts, they might seem like a nuisance. The feeling they create is like capricious or mischievous living things intruding into the precise setup of a physical lab, introducing unnecessary complexity and seemingly disrupting established laws. A lab can be locked to prevent such outside intrusion, but the Universe cannot. And if we ever do come across the interaction of intelligences beyond just living humans, we'll eventually recognize it and have to incorporate it into a broader understanding of existence. Early efforts, like those of today, are bound to be unsatisfactory and basic, especially since the evidence is of a type that most scientists are not used to; it's no surprise they might react negatively. Still, the evidence exists, and I, for one, cannot overlook it. Members of the Society for Psychical Research know that the evidence already published—carefully curated and examined by their own organization—fills around forty volumes of Journal and Proceedings; some are aware that much more evidence exists than has been shared, and that some of the most compelling evidence may not be published—at least not yet. It makes sense that, at this stage, the strongest evidence often has a very personal and private nature. Many, however, have experiences that resonate more deeply with them than anything that's been published. No records can match the power of firsthand direct experience in convincingness.
Nevertheless we are also aware, or ought to be, that no one crucial episode can ever be brought forward as deciding such a matter. That is not the way in which things [ 373] of importance are proven. Evidence is cumulative, it is on the strength of a mass of experience that an induction is ultimately made, and a conclusion provisionally arrived at; though sometimes it happens that a single exceptionally strong instance, or series of instances, may clinch it for some individual.
Nevertheless, we also know, or should know, that no single key event can ever be pointed to as settling such an issue. That's not how important things are proven. Evidence builds up over time; it's based on a collection of experiences that we eventually make an induction and come to a temporary conclusion. Although sometimes, one particularly strong case or a series of cases can convince someone. [ 373]
But indeed the evidence, in one form and another, has been crudely before the human race from remote antiquity; only it has been treated in ways more or less obfuscated by superstition. The same sort of occurrences as were known to Virgil, and to many another seer—the same sort of experiences as are found by folk-lore students, not only in history but in every part of the earth to-day—are happening now in a scientific age, and sometimes under scientific scrutiny. Hence it is that from the scientific point of view progress is at length being made; and any one with a real desire to know the truth need not lack evidence, if he will first read the records with an open mind, and then bide his time and be patient till an opportunity for first-hand critical observation is vouchsafed him. The opportunity may occur at any time: the readiness is all. Really clinching evidence in such a case is never in the past; a prima facie case for investigation is established by the records, but real conviction must be attained by first-hand experience in the present.
But the evidence, in various forms, has been clearly visible to humanity since ancient times; it has just been obscured by superstition. The same kinds of events known to Virgil and other seers—similar experiences recorded by folklore researchers, not just in history but all over the world today—are still happening now in our scientific age, sometimes even under scientific observation. That's why, from a scientific perspective, real progress is finally being made; anyone genuinely seeking the truth won't lack evidence if they first approach the records with an open mind and remain patient for a chance to observe things firsthand. That opportunity can arise at any moment: being prepared is essential. Strong evidence in these cases isn’t found in the past; a prima facie case for investigation is set up by the records, but true conviction can only come from personal experience in the present.
The things to be investigated are either true or false. If false, pertinacious inquiry will reveal their falsity. If true, they are profoundly important. For there are no half-truths in Nature; every smallest new departure has portentous consequences; our eyes must open slowly, or we should be overwhelmed. I once likened the feeling of physical investigators in the year 1889 to that of a boy who had long been strumming on the keyboard of a deserted organ into which an unseen power had begun to blow a vivifying breath.[40] That was at the beginning of the series of revolutionary discoveries about radiation and the nature of matter which have since resounded through the world. And now once more the touch of a finger elicits a responsive note, and again the boy hesitates, half delighted, half affrighted, at the chords which it would seem he can now summon forth almost at will.
The things we need to investigate are either true or false. If they're false, careful examination will uncover their falsehood. If they're true, they're extremely important. Because in Nature, there are no half-truths; even the smallest new development can have significant consequences. Our eyes must gradually open, or we could be overwhelmed. I once compared the feeling of physical investigators in 1889 to that of a boy who had been playing a deserted organ when an unseen force started to breathe life into it.[40] That was the start of a series of groundbreaking discoveries about radiation and the nature of matter that have echoed around the world. And now, once again, a touch of a finger brings forth a response, and the boy hesitates, feeling both thrilled and scared by the chords he seems able to call upon almost at will.
Footnotes
Footnotes
[40] Modern Views of Electricity, p. 408 of third and current edition.
CHAPTER 16
VIEW ON THE UNIVERSE
WHAT then is the conclusion of the whole matter? Or rather, what effect have these investigations had upon my own outlook on the Universe? The question is not so unimportant as it seems; because if the facts are to influence others they must have influenced myself too; and that is the only influence of which I have first-hand knowledge. It must not be supposed that my outlook has changed appreciably since the event and the particular experiences related in the foregoing pages: my conclusion has been gradually forming itself for years, though undoubtedly it is based on experience of the same sort of thing. But this event has strengthened and liberated my testimony. It can now be associated with a private experience of my own, instead of with the private experiences of others. So long as one was dependent on evidence connected, even indirectly connected, with the bereavement of others, one had to be reticent and cautious and in some cases silent. Only by special permission could any portion of the facts be reproduced; and that permission might in important cases be withheld. My own deductions were the same then as they are now, but the facts are now my own.
WHAT then is the conclusion of the whole matter? Or rather, what impact have these investigations had on my own perspective on the Universe? The question isn't as trivial as it seems; because if the facts are going to influence others, they must have influenced me too; and that's the only influence I can speak about firsthand. It shouldn't be assumed that my outlook has changed significantly since the event and the specific experiences described in the previous pages: my conclusion has been coming together for years, though it certainly stems from experiences of a similar nature. But this event has strengthened and freed my testimony. It can now be linked to a personal experience of my own, instead of the private experiences of others. As long as I relied on evidence related, even indirectly, to the loss of others, I had to be reserved and cautious, and in some cases, silent. Only with special permission could any part of the facts be shared; and that permission could be withheld in important situations. My own conclusions were the same then as they are now, but the facts are now my own.
One little point of difference, between the time before and the time after, has however become manifest. In the old days, if I sat with a medium, I was never told of any serious imaginary bereavement which had befallen myself—beyond the natural and inevitable losses from an older generation which fall to the lot of every son of man. But now, if I or any member of my family goes anonymously to a genuine medium, giving not the slightest normal clue, my [ 375] son is quickly to the fore and continues his clear and convincing series of evidences; sometimes giving testimony of a critically selected kind, sometimes contenting himself with friendly family chaff and reminiscences, but always acting in a manner consistent with his personality and memories and varying moods. If in any case a given medium had weak power, or if there were special difficulties encountered on a given occasion, he is aware of the fact; and he refers to it, when there is opportunity, through another totally disconnected medium (cf. Chapter XXI, Part II). In every way he has shown himself anxious to give convincing evidence. Moreover, he wants me to speak out; and I shall.
One small point of difference between the time before and after has become clear. Back in the day, when I sat with a medium, I was never told about any serious imaginary loss that had affected me—other than the natural and inevitable losses from an older generation that everyone faces. But now, if I or any family member goes anonymously to a genuine medium, without giving any normal hints, my [ 375] son quickly steps in and continues to provide a clear and convincing series of messages; sometimes offering carefully selected insights, sometimes just sharing friendly family jokes and memories, but always behaving in a way that’s true to his personality, memories, and changing moods. If a certain medium has weak abilities, or if unique challenges arise on a particular occasion, he knows about it; and he brings it up when possible through another completely unrelated medium (cf. Chapter XXI, Part II). In every way, he has shown he wants to provide convincing evidence. Furthermore, he wants me to speak up; and I will.
I am as convinced of continued existence, on the other side of death, as I am of existence here. It may be said, you cannot be as sure as you are of sensory experience. I say I can. A physicist is never limited to direct sensory impressions, he has to deal with a multitude of conceptions and things for which he has no physical organ: the dynamical theory of heat, for instance, and of gases, the theories of electricity, of magnetism, of chemical affinity, of cohesion, aye and his apprehension of the Ether itself, lead him into regions where sight and hearing and touch are impotent as direct witnesses, where they are no longer efficient guides. In such regions everything has to be interpreted in terms of the insensible, the apparently unsubstantial, and in a definite sense the imaginary. Yet these regions of knowledge are as clear and vivid to him as are any of those encountered in everyday occupations; indeed most commonplace phenomena themselves require interpretation in terms of ideas more subtle,—the apparent solidity of matter itself demands explanation,—and the underlying non-material entities of a physicist's conception become gradually as real and substantial as anything he knows. As Lord Kelvin used to say, when in a paradoxical mood, we really know more about electricity than we know about matter.
I’m just as certain about life after death as I am about being alive here. Some might argue that you can’t be as sure about it as you are about your sensory experiences. I disagree. A physicist is never confined to just what he can sense directly; he has to consider many concepts and things that he can’t physically perceive, like the dynamic theory of heat, gases, electricity, magnetism, chemical affinity, cohesion, and even his understanding of Ether. These concepts take him into areas where sight, hearing, and touch can’t serve as reliable witnesses or guides. In these areas, everything has to be understood in terms of the insensible, the seemingly insubstantial, and in some way, the imaginary. Yet, these aspects of knowledge are as clear and vivid to him as any of the things he encounters in daily life; in fact, most ordinary phenomena require more subtle interpretations—like the apparent solidity of matter itself needs explanation—and the non-material concepts in a physicist's understanding gradually become as real and substantial as anything he knows. As Lord Kelvin once said when he was feeling paradoxical, we actually understand electricity better than we understand matter.
That being so, I shall go further and say that I am reasonably convinced of the existence of grades of being, not only lower in the scale than man but higher also, grades of every order of magnitude from zero to infinity. [ 376] And I know by experience that among these beings are some who care for and help and guide humanity, not disdaining to enter even into what must seem petty details, if by so doing they can assist souls striving on their upward course. And further it is my faith—however humbly it may be held—that among these lofty beings, highest of those who concern themselves directly with this earth of all the myriads of worlds in infinite space, is One on whom the right instinct of Christianity has always lavished heartfelt reverence and devotion.
That said, I’ll go further and say that I’m fairly convinced there are different levels of existence, not just lower than humans but also higher, spanning all orders of magnitude from zero to infinity. [ 376] I know from experience that among these beings are some who care for, help, and guide humanity, even attending to what might seem like small details if it can assist souls on their upward journey. Furthermore, it is my belief—however humbly held—that among these elevated beings, the highest of those who directly engage with this earth among all the countless worlds in infinite space, is One who has always received heartfelt reverence and devotion from the true spirit of Christianity.
Those who think that the day of that Messiah is over are strangely mistaken: it has hardly begun. In individual souls Christianity has flourished and borne fruit, but for the ills of the world itself it is an almost untried panacea. It will be strange if this ghastly war fosters and simplifies and improves a knowledge of Christ, and aids a perception of the ineffable beauty of his life and teaching: yet stranger things have happened; and, whatever the Churches may do, I believe that the call of Christ himself will be heard and attended to, by a large part of humanity in the near future, as never yet it has been heard or attended to on earth.
Those who believe that the time of the Messiah has passed are seriously mistaken: it has barely begun. Christianity has thrived and flourished in individual lives, but when it comes to addressing the world's problems, it remains an almost untested solution. It would be unusual if this horrific war somehow fosters, clarifies, and enhances an understanding of Christ, and helps people appreciate the profound beauty of his life and teachings; yet stranger things have happened. Regardless of what the Churches do, I believe that the call of Christ himself will be heard and responded to by a significant portion of humanity in the near future, like never before on this earth.
My own time down here is getting short; it matters little: but I dare not go till I have borne this testimony to the grace and truth which emanate from that divine Being,—the realisation of whose tender-hearted simplicity and love for man may have been overlaid at times and almost lost amid well-intentioned but inappropriate dogma, but who is accessible as always to the humble and meek.
My time here is running out; it doesn’t really matter: but I can’t leave until I’ve shared my witness to the grace and truth that come from that divine Being—whose gentle simplicity and love for humanity may have sometimes been overshadowed and nearly forgotten due to well-meaning but misguided beliefs, yet is always available to the humble and meek.
Intercommunion between the states or grades of existence is not limited to messages from friends and relatives, or to conversation with personalities of our own order of magnitude,—that is only a small and verifiable portion of the whole truth,—intercourse between the states carries with it occasional, and sometimes unconscious, communion with lofty souls who have gone before. The truth of such continued influence corresponds with the highest of the Revelations vouchsafed to humanity. This truth, when assimilated by man, means an assurance of the reality of prayer, and a certainty of gracious sympathy and fellowfeeling [ 377] from one who never despised the suffering, the sinful, or the lowly; yea, it means more—it means nothing less than the possibility some day of a glance or a word of approval from the Eternal Christ.
Intercommunion between different states or levels of existence isn't just about messages from friends and family or conversations with people on our own level—those are just a small, verifiable part of the bigger picture. Interactions between these states involve occasional, and sometimes unintentional, connections with elevated souls who came before us. The reality of this continued influence aligns with the highest of the truths revealed to humanity. When a person fully understands this truth, it brings assurance about the reality of prayer and a certainty of compassionate understanding and kinship from someone who has never looked down on the suffering, the sinful, or the humble; indeed, it signifies even more—it signifies the potential for a someday glance or word of approval from the Eternal Christ. [ 377]
CHAPTER 17
THE CHRISTIAN CONCEPT OF GOD
A Call for Simplicity[41]
INVESTIGATION is laborious and unexciting; it takes years, and progress is slow; but in all regions of knowledge it is the method which in the long-run has led towards truth; it is the method by which what we feel to be solid and substantial progress has always been made. In many departments of human knowledge this fact is admitted—though men of science have had to fight hard for their method before getting it generally recognised. In some departments it is still contested, and the arguments of Bacon in favour of free experimental inquiry are applicable to those subjects which are claimed as superior to scientific test.
INVESTIGATION is tedious and uninteresting; it takes years, and progress is slow. But in all areas of knowledge, it's the approach that ultimately leads to truth. It's the method that has consistently produced what we recognize as solid and substantial progress. This fact is accepted in many fields of human knowledge, although scientists have had to struggle hard to have their method widely acknowledged. In some areas, it’s still debated, and Bacon's arguments for unrestricted experimental inquiry apply to those fields that are claimed to be above scientific testing.
If it be objected that not by such means is truth in religious matters ascertained, if it be held that we must walk by faith, not by sight, and that never by searching will man find out any of the secrets of God, I do not care to contest the objection, though I disagree with its negative portion. That no amount of searching will ever enable us to find out the Almighty to perfection is manifestly true; that secrets may be revealed to inspired 'babes' which are hidden from the wise and prudent is likewise certain; but that no secret things of God can be brought to light by patient examination and inquiry into facts is false, for you cannot parcel out truth into that which is divine and that which is not divine; the truths of science were as much God's secrets as any other, and they have yielded up their mystery to precisely the process which is called in question.
If someone argues that truth in religious matters can't be discovered this way, claiming that we need to walk by faith instead of relying on what we see, and that no amount of searching will uncover God’s secrets, I'm not interested in debating that point, even though I disagree with its negative aspect. It's obviously true that no amount of searching will allow us to fully understand the Almighty; it's also clear that insights can be revealed to inspired 'babes' which wise and knowledgeable people might miss. However, the idea that no hidden truths about God can be uncovered through careful examination and inquiry is false. You can't separate truth into what is divine and what isn't; the truths of science are just as much God's secrets as any others, and they have revealed their mysteries through the very processes that are being questioned.
We are part of the Universe, our senses have been evolved in and by it; it follows that they are harmonious with it, and that the way it appeals to our senses is a true way; though their obvious limitation entitles us to expect from time to time fresh discoveries of surprising and fundamental novelty, and a growing perception of tracts beyond our ancient ken.
We are part of the Universe, and our senses have evolved within it; this means that they are in sync with it, and the way it connects with our senses is valid; however, their clear limitations lead us to anticipate occasional new discoveries that are astonishing and foundational, as well as an expanding awareness of areas beyond our historical knowledge.
Some critics there are, however, who, calling themselves
scientific, have made up their minds in a negative
direction and a contrary sense. These are impressed not
only with the genuineness of the truth afforded us through
our senses and perceptions, but with its completeness; they
appear to think that the main lines of research have already
been mapped out or laid down, they will not believe that
regions other than those to which they are accustomed can
be open to scientific exploration; especially they imagine
that in the so-called religious domain there can be no guides
except preconception and prejudice. Accordingly, they appear
to disbelieve that anyone can be conscientiously taking
trouble to grope his way by patient inquiry, with the aid
of such clues as are available; and in order to contradict
the results of such inquiry they fall into the habit of doing
that of which they accuse the workers,—they appeal to
sentiment and presumption. They talk freely about what
they believe, what they think unlikely, and what is impossible.
They are governed by prejudice; their minds are
made up. Doubtless they regard knowledge on certain
topics as inaccessible, so they are positive and selfsatisfied
and opinionated and quite sure. They pride
themselves on their hard-headed scepticism and robust
common sense; while the truth is that they have bound
themselves into a narrow cell by walls of sentiment, and
have thus excluded whole regions of human experience from
their purview.
Some critics, however, who consider themselves scientific, have decided to take a negative stance and a contrary viewpoint. They are not only impressed by the authenticity of the truth we gain through our senses and perceptions but also by its completeness; they seem to think that the major areas of research have already been mapped out and that there is no room for scientific exploration beyond what they know. They especially believe that in the so-called religious realm, there can be no guides other than preconceptions and biases. As a result, they seem to doubt that anyone can genuinely work to find answers through careful inquiry, using the clues that are available. To counter the findings of such inquiries, they often fall into the same patterns they accuse others of, appealing to emotions and assumptions. They freely discuss what they believe, what they find unlikely, and what they see as impossible. They are driven by biases; their minds are made up. They likely view knowledge on certain subjects as out of reach, making them self-assured, smug, and opinionated. They take pride in their hard-nosed skepticism and solid common sense; yet, the truth is that they have confined themselves to a narrow space built by walls of emotion, excluding vast areas of human experience from their view.
It so happens that I have been engaged for over forty years in mathematical and physical science, and for more than half that period in exploration into unusual psychical development, as opportunity arose; and I have thus been led to certain tentative conclusions respecting permissible ways of regarding the universe.
It turns out that I've been involved in mathematical and physical science for over forty years, and for more than half of that time, I’ve explored unusual psychic development whenever I could. As a result, I've come to some tentative conclusions about acceptable ways to view the universe.
First, I have learned to regard the universe as a concrete [ 380] and full-bodied reality, with parts accessible and intelligible to us, all of it capable of being understood and investigated by the human mind, not as an abstraction or dream-like entity whose appearances are deceptive. Our senses do not deceive us; their testimony is true as far as it goes. I have learned to believe in Intelligibility.
First, I've come to see the universe as a tangible and complete reality, with aspects that we can access and understand, all capable of being grasped and explored by the human mind, not as an abstract or dream-like idea whose appearances can mislead us. Our senses don’t deceive us; their insights are accurate as far as they go. I've learned to have faith in understanding.
Next, that everything, every single thing, has many aspects. Even such a thing as water, for instance. Water, regarded by the chemist, is an assemblage or aggregate of complex molecules; regarded by the meteorologist and physiographer, it is an element of singular and vitally important properties; every poet has treated of some aspect of beauty exhibited by this common substance; while to the citizen it is an ordinary need of daily life. All the aspects together do not exhaust the subject, but each of them is real. The properties of matter of which our senses tell us, or enable us to inquire into in laboratories, are true properties, real and true. They are not the whole truth, a great deal more is known about them by men of science, but the more complex truths do not make the simpler ones false. Moreover, we must admit that the whole truth about the simplest thing is assuredly beyond us; the Thing-in-itself is related to the whole universe, and in its fulness is incomprehensible.
Next, everything, every single thing, has many aspects. Even something as simple as water, for example. Water, seen by the chemist, is a collection of complex molecules; viewed by the meteorologist and physiographer, it is a substance with unique and essential properties; every poet has explored some aspect of beauty found in this common substance; while for the average person, it’s just a basic necessity for daily life. All these aspects together don’t cover the entire topic, but each one is real. The properties of matter that our senses reveal or that we can explore in labs are real properties. They are not the complete truth; scientists know much more about them, but the more complex truths don’t make the simpler ones untrue. Additionally, we have to acknowledge that the whole truth about even the simplest thing is definitely beyond our grasp; the Thing-in-itself is connected to the entire universe and, in its entirety, is incomprehensible.
Furthermore, I have learned that while positive assertions on any given subject are often true, error creeps in when simple aspects are denied in order to emphasise the more complex, or vice versa. A trigonometrical sine, for instance, may be expressed in terms of imaginary exponentials in a way familiar to all mathematical students; also as an infinite series of fractions with increasing factorials in the denominators; also in a number of other true and legitimate and useful ways; but the simple geometrical definition, by aid of the chord of a circle or the string of a bow, survives them all, and is true too.
Furthermore, I've learned that while positive statements about any topic are often correct, mistakes happen when basic aspects are overlooked to highlight the more complex ones, or vice versa. For example, the sine function in trigonometry can be represented using imaginary exponentials, which is something all math students are familiar with; it can also be expressed as an infinite series of fractions with growing factorials in the denominators; and in several other true, valid, and useful ways. However, the simple geometric definition, using the chord of a circle or the string of a bow, endures through all of these and is also accurate.
So it is, I venture to say, with the concept God.
So it is, I would argue, with the idea of God.
It can be regarded from some absolute and transcendental standpoint which humanity can only pretend to attain to. It can be regarded as the highest and best idea which the human mind has as yet been able to form. It can be regarded as dominating and including all existence,[ 381] and as synonymous with all existence when that is made sufficiently comprehensive. All these views are legitimate, but they are not final or complete. God can also be represented by some of the attributes of humanity, and can be depicted as a powerful and loving Friend with whom our spirits may commune at every hour of the day, one whose patience and wisdom and long-suffering and beneficence are never exhausted. He can, in fact, be regarded as displayed to us, in such fashion as we can make use of, in the person of an incarnate Being who came for the express purpose of revealing to man such attributes of deity as would otherwise have been missed.
It can be viewed from some ultimate and transcendent perspective that humanity can only aspire to reach. It can be seen as the highest and best idea that the human mind has been able to conceive so far. It can also be seen as encompassing and including all existence,[ 381] and as synonymous with all existence when that is made broad enough. All these perspectives are valid, but they are not final or complete. God can also be portrayed using some of humanity's attributes and can be depicted as a powerful and loving Friend with whom we can connect at any time of day, one whose patience, wisdom, endurance, and kindness are never-ending. In fact, He can be understood as revealed to us in a way we can relate to, in the person of an incarnate Being who came specifically to show humanity those divine qualities that might otherwise have been overlooked.
The images are not mutually exclusive, they may all be in some sort true. None of them is complete. They are all aspects—partly true and partly false as conceived by any individual, but capable of being expressed so as to be, as far as they go, true.
The images aren’t mutually exclusive; they can all be somewhat true. None of them is complete. They are all aspects—partially true and partially false depending on the person, but they can be expressed in a way that is, to some extent, true.
Undoubtedly the Christian idea of God is the simple one. Overpoweringly and appallingly simple is the notion presented to us by the orthodox Christian Churches:—
Undoubtedly, the Christian idea of God is a straightforward one. The concept presented to us by the orthodox Christian Churches is overwhelmingly and shockingly simple:—
A babe born of poor parents, born in a stable among cattle because there was no room for them in the village inn—no room for them in the inn—what a master touch! Revealed to shepherds. Religious people inattentive. Royalty ignorant, or bent on massacre. A glimmering perception, according to one noble legend, attained in the Far East—where also similar occurrences have been narrated. Then the child growing into a peasant youth, brought up to a trade. At length a few years of itinerant preaching; flashes of miraculous power and insight. And then a swift end: set upon by the religious people; his followers overawed and scattered, himself tried as a blasphemer, flogged, and finally tortured to death.
A baby born to poor parents, in a stable among animals because there was no room for them in the village inn—no room in the inn—what a striking detail! Revealed to shepherds. Religious folks were oblivious. The royalty was clueless or intent on violence. A shining realization, according to one noble legend, arose in the Far East—where similar stories have also been told. Then the child grew into a peasant young man, trained in a trade. Eventually, a few years of traveling and preaching; moments of miraculous ability and insight. And then a quick end: attacked by the religious leaders; his followers intimidated and scattered, he was tried as a blasphemer, whipped, and ultimately tortured to death.
Simplicity most thorough and most strange! In itself it is not unique; such occurrences seem inevitable to highest humanity in an unregenerate world; but who, without inspiration, would see in them a revelation of the nature of God? The life of Buddha, the life of Joan of Arc, are not thus regarded. Yet the Christian revelation is clear enough and true enough if our eyes are open, and if we care to read and accept the simple record which, whatever its historical value, is all that has been handed down to us.
Simplicity is both profound and unusual! By itself, it’s not rare; these events seem unavoidable for the greatest of humanity in a flawed world. But who, without some sort of inspiration, would see in them a revelation of God’s nature? The lives of Buddha and Joan of Arc are not viewed in this way. Yet, the Christian revelation is clear and true if we’re willing to see it and if we choose to read and accept the straightforward account which, regardless of its historical accuracy, is what has been passed down to us.
Critics often object that there have been other attempted Messiahs, that the ancient world was expectant of a Divine Incarnation. True enough. But what then? We need not be afraid of an idea because it has several times striven to make itself appreciated. It is foolish to decline a revelation because it has been more than once offered to humanity. Every great revelation is likely to have been foreshadowed in more or less imperfect forms, so as to prepare our minds and make ready the way for complete perception hereafter. It is probable that the human race is quite incompetent to receive a really great idea the first time it is offered. There must be many failures to effect an entrance before the final success, many struggles to overcome natural obstacles and submerge the stony products of human stolidity. Lapse of time for preparation is required before anything great can be permanently accomplished, and repeated attempts are necessary; but the tide of general progress is rising all the time. The idea is well expressed in Clough's familiar lines:—
Critics often argue that there have been other people claiming to be the Messiah and that the ancient world was waiting for a Divine Incarnation. That's true. But so what? We shouldn't shy away from an idea just because it has tried to gain acceptance multiple times. It's silly to reject a revelation simply because it has been presented to humanity more than once. Every major revelation is likely to have been hinted at in somewhat imperfect forms to prepare our minds and pave the way for a complete understanding later on. It's likely that humanity isn't fully equipped to grasp a truly great idea the first time it’s presented. There will be many failures before it finally succeeds, many challenges to overcome, and much resistance to break through. We need time to prepare before anything significant can be achieved, and repeated efforts are essential; however, the overall trend of progress is steadily rising. This idea is well captured in Clough's familiar lines:—
"For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,
For while the tired waves, uselessly crashing,
Seem here no painful inch to gain,
See here no painful stretch to gain,
Far back, through creeks and inlets making,
Far back, through streams and inlets forming,
Comes silent, flooding in, the main."
It enters quietly, filling everything, the main.
So it was with the idea of the Messiah which was abroad in the land, and had been for centuries, before Christ's coming; and never has he been really recognised by more than a few. Dare we not say that he is more truly recognised now than in any previous age in the history of the Church—except perhaps the very earliest? And I doubt if we need make that exception.
So it was with the idea of the Messiah that had been circulating in the land for centuries before Christ's arrival; and he has never truly been recognized by more than a few. Can we not say that he is more genuinely recognized now than at any previous time in the history of the Church—except maybe for the very early days? I doubt we even need to make that exception.
The idea of his Messiahship gradually dawned upon him, and he made no mistake as to his mission:—
The idea of being the Messiah slowly became clear to him, and he was certain about his mission:—
The word which ye hear is not mine, but the Father's who sent me.
The words you’re hearing aren’t mine; they come from the Father who sent me.
As the Father gave me commandment, even so I do.
I follow the same instructions that the Father gave me.
The words which I say unto you I speak not of myself; the Father which dwelleth in me, he doeth the works.
What I'm sharing with you doesn't come just from me; it's the Father living in me who is doing the work.
The Father is greater than I.
The Father is greater than I am.
But, for all that,
But despite all that,
He that hath seen me hath seen the Father.
Whoever has seen me has seen the Father.
Yes, truly, Christ was a planetary manifestation of Deity, a revelation to the human race, the highest and simplest it has yet had; a revelation in the only form accessible to man, a revelation in the full-bodied form of humanity.
Yes, truly, Christ was a planetary manifestation of God, a revelation to humanity, the highest and simplest it has ever had; a revelation in the only form available to man, a revelation in the complete form of humanity.
Little conception had they in those days of the whole universe as we know it now. The earth was the whole world to them, and that which revealed God to the earth was naturally regarded as the whole Cosmic Deity. Yet it was a truly divine Incarnation.
Little did they understand in those days of the entire universe as we know it now. The earth was their entire world, and what they believed revealed God to the earth was naturally seen as the entire Cosmic Deity. Yet it was a truly divine incarnation.
A deity of some kind is common to every branch of the human race. It seems to be possessed by every savage, overawed as he necessarily is by the forces of nature. Caprice, jealousy, openness to flattery and rewards, are likewise parts of early theology. Then in the gods of Olympus—that poetic conception which rose to such heights and fell to such depths at different epochs in the ancient world—the attributes of power and beauty were specially emphasised. Power is common to all deities, and favouritism in its use seems also a natural supposition to early tribes; but the element of Beauty, as a divine attribute, we in these islands, save for the poets, have largely lost or forgotten—to our great detriment. In Jehovah, however, the Hebrew race rose to a conception of divine Righteousness which we have assimilated and permanently retained; and upon that foundation Christianity was grafted. It was to a race who had risen thus far—a race with a genius for theology—that the Christian revelation came. It was rendered possible, though only just possible, by the stage attained. Simple and unknown folk were ready to receive it, or, at least, were willing to take the first steps to learn.
A kind of deity is found in every part of the human race. Every primitive person seems to be influenced by the forces of nature. Early beliefs about gods included traits like capriciousness, jealousy, and a tendency to respond to flattery and rewards. Then, in the gods of Olympus—this poetic idea that reached great heights and also fell into decline at various times in the ancient world—attributes of power and beauty were particularly emphasized. Power is a common trait among all deities, and early tribes naturally assumed favoritism in its application; however, the element of Beauty as a divine attribute is something we in these islands, except for the poets, have largely lost or forgotten—to our great detriment. In Jehovah, however, the Hebrew people developed a concept of divine Righteousness that we have absorbed and retained permanently; and on that foundation, Christianity was built. It was to a people who had reached this level—a people with a talent for theology—that the Christian revelation was given. It became possible, though only just, because of the stage they had reached. Simple and unknown individuals were ready to accept it or, at the very least, willing to take the first steps to learn.
The power, the righteousness, and other worthy attributes belonging to Jehovah, were known of old. The Christian conception takes them for granted, and concentrates attention on the pity, the love, the friendliness, the compassion, the earnest desire to help mankind—attributes which, though now and again dimly discerned by one or another of the great seers of old, had not yet been thrown into concrete form.
The power, righteousness, and other deserving qualities of Jehovah have always been recognized. The Christian view assumes these qualities and focuses instead on pity, love, friendliness, compassion, and a genuine desire to help humanity—traits that, while occasionally glimpsed by some of the great visionaries of the past, had not yet been clearly defined.
People sometimes seek to deny such attributes as are connoted by the word 'Personality' in the Godhead—they [ 384] say it is a human conception. Certainly it is a human conception; it is through humanity that it has been revealed. Why seek to deny it? God transcends personality, objectors say. By all means: transcends all our conceptions infinitely, transcends every revelation which has ever been vouchsafed; but the revelations are true as far as they go, for all that.
People sometimes try to deny the qualities suggested by the word 'Personality' in the divine—they [ 384] argue it's just a human idea. It definitely is a human idea; it’s through humanity that it has been revealed. Why try to deny it? Critics claim that God goes beyond personality. That's true: God goes beyond all our concepts infinitely, exceeding every revelation that has ever been given; but those revelations are valid as far as they reach, nonetheless.
Let us not befog ourselves by attempting impossible conceptions to such an extent that we lose the simple and manifest reality. No conception that we can make is too high, too good, too worthy. It is easy to imagine ourselves mistaken, but never because ideas are too high or too good. It were preposterous to imagine an over-lofty conception in a creature. Reality is always found to exceed our clear conception of it; never once in science has it permanently fallen short. No conception is too great or too high. But also no devout conception is too simple, too lowly, too childlike to have an element—some grain—of vital truth stored away, a mustard seed ready to germinate and bud, a leaven which may permeate the whole mass.
Let’s not confuse ourselves by trying to grasp impossible ideas to the point where we overlook simple, obvious truths. There’s no idea too grand, too good, or too valuable for us to conceive. It’s easy to think we might be wrong, but never because our ideas are too ambitious or noble. It would be ridiculous to think a lofty idea is beyond a being like us. Reality consistently surpasses our understanding of it; in science, it has never truly fallen short. No idea is too big or too lofty. But also, no sincere idea is too simple, too humble, or too childlike to hold a kernel of vital truth, a mustard seed ready to grow and blossom, a leaven that can influence the entire mass.
I would apply all this to what for brevity may be called Human Immortality. It is possible to think of that rather simply; and, on the other hand, it is possible to confuse ourselves with tortuous thoughts till it seems unreal and impossible. It is part of the problem of personality and individuality; for the question of how far these are dependent on the bodily organism, or whether they can exist without it, is a scientific question. It is open to research. And yet it is connected with Christianity; for undoubtedly the Christian idea of God involves a belief in human immortality. If per impossible this latter could be authoritatively denied, a paralysing blow would have been struck at the Christian idea. On the other hand, if by scientific investigation the persistence of individual memory and character were proved, a great step in the direction of orthodox theology would have been taken.
I would apply all this to what, for the sake of simplicity, we can call Human Immortality. It’s possible to think about it fairly simply; on the flip side, we can also get caught up in complicated thoughts until it seems unreal and impossible. This ties into the issue of personality and individuality; the question of how much these depend on the physical body or whether they can exist without it is a scientific question. It’s open to research. Yet, it’s also connected to Christianity; because, without a doubt, the Christian idea of God includes a belief in human immortality. If per impossible this could be conclusively denied, it would deal a crippling blow to the Christian concept. Conversely, if scientific investigation were to prove the continuity of individual memory and character, it would represent a significant advancement for orthodox theology.
The modern superstition about the universe is that, being suffused with law and order, it contains nothing personal, nothing indeterminate, nothing unforeseen; that there is no room for the free activity of intelligent beings, that everything is mechanically determined; so that given the [ 385] velocity and acceleration and position of every atom at any instant, the whole future could be unravelled by sufficient mathematical power.
The current belief about the universe is that, filled with law and order, it lacks any personal elements, uncertainties, or surprises; that there’s no space for the free actions of intelligent beings and that everything is mechanically predetermined. This means that if we knew the [ 385] velocity, acceleration, and position of every atom at any moment, we could predict the entire future with enough mathematical skill.
The doctrines of Uniformity and Determinism are supposed to be based upon experience. But experience includes experience of the actions of human beings; and some of them certainly appear to be of a capricious and undetermined character. Or without considering human beings, watch the orbits of a group of flies as they play; they are manifestly not controlled completely by mechanical laws as are the motions of the planets. The simplest view of their activity is that it is self-determined, that they are flying about at their own will, and turning when and where they choose. The conservation of energy has nothing to say against it. Here we see free-will in its simplest form. To suppose anything else in such a case, to suppose that every twist could have been predicted through all eternity, is to introduce præternatural complexity, and is quite unnecessary.
The ideas of Uniformity and Determinism are thought to be based on experience. However, experience includes observing the actions of people, and some of them clearly seem to be random and unpredictable. Or, if we look at a group of flies as they move around, it's obvious they're not completely governed by mechanical laws like the movements of planets. The simplest interpretation of their behavior is that it's self-directed; they're flying around at their own will, choosing when and where to turn. The conservation of energy doesn't contradict this. Here, we see free will in its most basic form. Assuming anything else in this situation—believing that every movement could have been predicted for all time—adds unnecessary complexity and isn't needed.
Why not assume, what is manifestly the truth, that free-will exists and has to be reckoned with, that the universe is not a machine subject to outside forces, but a living organism with initiations of its own; and that the laws which govern it, though they include mechanical and physical and chemical laws, are not limited to those, but involve other and higher abstractions, which may perhaps some day be formulated, for life and mind and spirit?
Why not accept, as is clearly true, that free will exists and must be acknowledged, that the universe is not just a machine controlled by external forces, but a living organism with its own initiatives; and that the laws that govern it, while they include mechanical, physical, and chemical laws, are not restricted to those, but also involve other and higher concepts, which may perhaps someday be defined, for life, mind, and spirit?
If it be said that free-will can be granted to deity but to nothing lower, inasmuch as the Deity must be aware of all that is going to happen, I reply that you are now making a hypothesis of a complicated kind, and going beyond knowledge into speculation. But if still the speculation appears reasonable, that only the Deity can be endowed with free-will, it merely opens the question, What shall be included in that term? If freedom is the characteristic mark of deity, then those are justified who have taught that every fragment of mind and will is a contributory element in the essence of the Divine Being.
If it's said that free will can only be given to a deity and not to anything lower, since the deity must know everything that will happen, I respond that you are making a complex assumption and moving from knowledge into speculation. However, if this speculation seems reasonable and only the deity can have free will, it simply raises the question, what does that term actually include? If freedom is what defines the deity, then those who claim that every bit of mind and will contributes to the essence of the Divine Being are justified.
How, then, can we conceive of deity? The analogy of the human body and its relation to the white corpuscles in [ 386] its blood is instructive. Each corpuscle is a living-creature endowed with the powers of locomotion, of assimilation, and, under certain conditions now being inquired into, of reproduction by fission. The health and polity of the body are largely dependent on the activity of these phagocytes. They are to us extremely important; they are an essential part of our being.
How can we understand the concept of God? The comparison between the human body and the white blood cells in its blood is helpful. Each cell is a living entity equipped with the ability to move, digest nutrients, and, under certain circumstances currently being studied, reproduce by splitting. The health and functioning of the body heavily rely on these immune cells. They are incredibly significant to us; they are a crucial component of our existence.
But now suppose one of these corpuscles endowed with intelligence—what conception of the universe will it be able to form? It may examine its surroundings, discourse of the vessels through which it passes, of the adventures it encounters; and if philosophically minded, it may speculate on a being of which perhaps it and all its like form a part—an immanent deity, whose constituents they are, a being which includes them and includes all else which they know or can imagine—a being to whose existence they contribute, and whose purposes they serve or share. So far they could speculate, and so far they would be right. But if they proceeded further, and entered on negations, if they surmised that that immanent aspect of the universe in which they lived and moved and had their being was the sole and only aspect, if they surmised that there was no personality, no feeling, no locomotion, no mind, no purpose, apart from them and their kind, they would greatly err. What conception could they ever form of the manifold interests and activities of man? Still less of the universe known to man, of which he himself forms so trivial a portion.
But now imagine one of these tiny particles that has intelligence—what understanding of the universe could it develop? It might look at its surroundings, talk about the vessels it travels through, and the experiences it goes through; and if it’s philosophically inclined, it might ponder a being of which it and all similar particles are a part—an inherent deity made up of them, a being that encompasses them and everything else they know or can envision—a being whose existence they help create, and whose goals they serve or share. Up to this point, they could speculate, and they would be correct. But if they went further and started making negative assumptions, believing that the inherent aspect of the universe in which they lived and moved was the only one, if they thought that there was no personality, no emotion, no movement, no mind, no purpose outside of them and their kind, they would be making a big mistake. What understanding could they ever have of the diverse interests and activities of humans? Even less so of the universe that humans know, of which humans themselves make up such a small part.
All analogies fail at some point, but they are a help nevertheless, and this analogy will bear pressing rather far. We ourselves are a part of the agencies for good or evil; we have the power to help or to hinder, to mend or to mar, within the scope of our activity. Our help is asked for; lowly as we are, it is really wanted, on the earth here and now, just as much wanted as our body needs the help of its lowly white corpuscles—to contribute to health, to attack disease, to maintain the normal and healthy life of the organism. We are the white corpuscles of the cosmos, we serve and form part of an immanent Deity.
All analogies break down eventually, but they still offer some value, and this analogy can be stretched quite a bit. We are part of the forces for good or evil; we have the power to assist or obstruct, to fix or to ruin, within the limits of our actions. Our help is needed; even though we may seem insignificant, it is genuinely sought after, here and now on Earth, just like our bodies rely on their humble white blood cells—to promote health, to fight off illness, and to sustain normal, healthy life. We are the white blood cells of the universe, serving as part of a greater divine presence.
Truly it is no easy service to which we are called; something of the wisdom of the serpent must enter into our activities; sanity and moral dignity and sound sense [ 387] must govern our proceedings; all our powers must be called out, and there must be no sluggishness. Impulses, even good impulses, alone are not sufficient; every faculty of the human brain must be exerted, and we must be continually on guard against the flabbiness of mere good intentions.
It’s really not an easy task we are called to do; we need to bring some of the wisdom of the serpent into our actions. We must be guided by reason, moral integrity, and common sense. All our abilities need to be engaged, and we can't afford to be lazy. Good intentions alone, even when they're well-meaning, aren't enough; we must make sure to use every part of our minds and stay alert to the weakness of just having good intentions. [ 387]
Our activity and service are thus an integral part of the Divine Existence, which likewise includes that of all the perceptible universe. But to suppose that this exhausts the matter, and that the Deity has no transcendent Existence of which we can form no idea,—to suppose that what happens is not the result of his dominant and controlling Personality, is to step beyond legitimate inference, and to treat appearance as exhaustive of reality.
Our actions and services are therefore a vital part of the Divine Being, which also encompasses the entire visible universe. However, to think that this is all there is, and that the Divine has no higher existence that we can't fully understand—to believe that what occurs is not a result of His powerful and guiding Personality—is to go beyond reasonable conclusions and to consider appearances as complete reality.
Always mistrust negations. They commonly signify blindness and prejudice—except when thoroughly established and carefully formulated in the light of actual experience or mathematical proof. And even then we should be ready to admit the possibility of higher generalisations which may uproot them. They are only safe when thrown into the form of a positive assertion.
Always be cautious of negations. They often indicate ignorance and bias—except when they are well-founded and thoughtfully articulated based on real experience or mathematical evidence. Even in those cases, we should remain open to the idea of broader principles that might challenge them. They are only reliable when expressed as a positive statement.
The impossibility of squaring the circle is not really a negative proposition, except in form. It is safer and more convincing when thrown into the positive and definite form that the ratio of area to diameter is incommensurable. That statement is perfectly clear and legitimate; and the illustration may be used as a parable. A positive form should be demanded of every comprehensive denial; and whatever cannot be thrown into positive form, it is wise to mistrust. Its promulgator is probably stepping out of bounds, into the cheap and easy region of negative speculation. He is like a rationalistic microbe denying the existence of a human being.
The impossibility of squaring the circle isn’t really a negative claim, except in how it’s presented. It’s safer and more convincing when stated positively and clearly that the ratio of area to diameter is incommensurable. That assertion is perfectly clear and valid; and it can serve as a metaphor. A positive statement should always be expected from any broad denial; and anything that can’t be presented positively should be approached with skepticism. The person making such a claim is likely overstepping, wandering into the simple and superficial territory of negative speculation. They’re like a rationalistic germ denying the existence of a person.
I have urged that the simple aspect of things is to be considered and not despised; but, for the majority of people, is not the tendency the other way? Are they not too much given to suppose the Universe limited to the simplicity of their first and everyday conception of it? The stockbroker has his idea of the totality of things; the navvy has his. Students of mathematical physics are liable to think of it as a determinate assemblage of atoms and ether, with [ 388] no room for spiritual entities—no room, as my brilliant teacher, W. K. Clifford, expressed it, no room for ghosts.
I have insisted that we should appreciate the simple nature of things instead of looking down on it; but isn't the opposite true for most people? Don't they tend to believe that the Universe is limited to their basic, everyday understanding of it? The stockbroker has his own view of everything; the construction worker has his. Students studying mathematical physics might see it simply as a specific arrangement of atoms and ether, with [ 388] no space for spiritual beings—no space, as my brilliant teacher, W. K. Clifford, put it, no space for ghosts.
Biological students are apt to think of life as a physicochemical process of protoplasmic structure and cell organisation, with consciousness as an epiphenomenon. They watch the lowly stages of animal organisms, and hope to imitate their behaviour by judicious treatment of inorganic materials. By all means let them try; the effort is entirely legitimate, and not unhopeful. That which has come into being in the past may come into being under observation in the present, and the intelligence and co-operation of man may help. Why not? The material vehicle would thus have been provided—in this case, without doubt, purposely and designedly—for some incipient phase of life. But would that in the least explain the nature of life and mind and will, and reduce them to simple atomic mechanism and dynamics? Not a whit. The real nature of these things would remain an unanswered question.
Biology students tend to see life as a physical and chemical process involving cellular structure and organization, with consciousness being just a byproduct. They observe the simpler forms of animal life and hope to replicate their behavior through careful manipulation of inorganic materials. They should absolutely give it a shot; the attempt is completely valid and not without promise. What has come into existence in the past could potentially come about under observation now, and human intelligence and collaboration might contribute. Why not? In this case, the necessary material conditions would have been intentionally provided for some early stage of life. But would that really explain what life, mind, and will are, simplifying them to mere atomic processes and mechanics? Not at all. The true essence of these phenomena would still remain an open question.
During the past century progress has lain chiefly in the domain of the mechanical and material. The progress has been admirable, and has led to natural rejoicing and legitimate pride. It has also led to a supposition that all possible scientific advance lies in this same direction, or even that all the great fundamental discoveries have now been made! Discovery proceeds by stages, and enthusiasm at the acquisition of a step or a landing-place obscures for a time our perception of the flight of stairs immediately ahead; but it is rational to take a more comprehensive view.
Over the past hundred years, progress has mainly been in the mechanical and material areas. This progress has been impressive and has resulted in genuine happiness and rightful pride. It has also led to the belief that all possible scientific advancements will come from this same direction, or even that all the major fundamental discoveries have already been made! Discovery happens in stages, and excitement over achieving a step or milestone can temporarily cloud our view of the challenges that lie ahead; however, it's reasonable to adopt a broader perspective.
Part of our experience is the connexion of spirit with matter. We are conscious of our own identity, our own mind and purpose and will: we are also conscious of the matter in which it is at present incarnate and manifested. Let us use these experiences and learn from them. Incarnation is a fact; we are not matter, yet we utilise it. Through the mechanism of the brain we can influence the material world; we are in it, but not of it; we transcend it by our consciousness. The body is our machine, our instrument, our vehicle of manifestation; and through it we can achieve results in the material sphere. Why seek [ 389] to deny either the spiritual or the material? Both are real, both are true. In some higher mind, perhaps, they may be unified: meanwhile we do not possess this higher mind. Scientific progress is made by accepting realities and learning from them; the rest is speculation. It is not likely that we are the only intelligent beings in the Universe. There may be many higher grades, up to the Divine; just as there are lower grades, down to the amœba. Nor need all these grades of intelligence be clothed in matter or inhabit the surface of a planet. That is the kind of existence with which we are now familiar, truly, and anything beyond that is for the most part supersensuous; but our senses are confessedly limited, and if there is any truth in the doctrine of human immortality the existence of myriads of departed individuals must be assumed, on what has been called "the other side."
Part of our experience involves the connection between spirit and matter. We are aware of our own identity, our mind, purpose, and will; we are also aware of the matter that currently embodies and expresses these aspects. Let's make use of these experiences and learn from them. Incarnation is a reality; we are not matter, yet we use it. Through our brains, we can influence the material world; we exist in it, but we are not defined by it; our consciousness allows us to rise above it. The body is our machine, our instrument, our vehicle for expression; through it, we can achieve results in the material world. Why deny either the spiritual or the material? Both are real, both are true. Perhaps, in a higher consciousness, they could be unified: for now, we don’t possess that higher consciousness. Scientific progress comes from acknowledging realities and learning from them; everything else is just speculation. It’s unlikely that we are the only intelligent beings in the universe. There could be many higher forms, all the way up to the Divine, just as there are lower forms, down to the amoeba. Not all these forms of intelligence need to be bound to matter or inhabit a planet's surface. That’s the type of existence we are familiar with, and anything beyond that is mostly beyond our senses; however, our senses are admittedly limited, and if there is any truth to the idea of human immortality, we must assume the existence of countless departed individuals on what is referred to as "the other side."
But how are we to get evidence in favour of such an apparently gratuitous hypothesis? Well, speaking for myself and with full and cautious responsibility, I have to state that as an outcome of my investigation into psychical matters I have at length and quite gradually become convinced, after more than thirty years of study, not only that persistent individual existence is a fact, but that occasional communication across the chasm—with difficulty and under definite conditions—is possible.
But how are we supposed to find evidence to support such an apparently unnecessary hypothesis? Well, speaking for myself and taking full responsibility, I have to say that, after more than thirty years of studying psychical matters, I have slowly and gradually become convinced that not only is persistent individual existence a fact, but that occasional communication across the divide—though challenging and under specific conditions—is possible.
This is not a subject on which one comes lightly and easily to a conclusion, nor can the evidence be explained except to those who will give to it time and careful study; but clearly the conclusion is either folly and self-deception, or it is a truth of the utmost importance to humanity—and of importance to us in connexion with our present subject. For it is a conclusion which cannot stand alone. Mistaken or true, it affords a foothold for a whole range of other thoughts, other conclusions, other ideas: false and misleading if the foothold is insecure, worthy of attention if the foothold is sound. Let posterity judge.
This isn't a topic that you can quickly and easily reach a conclusion on, and the evidence can only be understood by those willing to invest time and careful study; however, it's clear that the conclusion is either foolish and self-deceptive, or it represents a truth of utmost importance to humanity—and relevant to our current subject. This is a conclusion that can't stand on its own. Whether it's mistaken or true, it provides a basis for a whole range of other thoughts, conclusions, and ideas: misleading and false if the basis is weak, deserving of attention if it's solid. Let future generations decide.
Meanwhile it is a subject that attracts cranks and charlatans. Rash opinions are freely expressed on both sides. I call upon the educated of the younger generation to refrain from accepting assertions without severe scrutiny, and, above all, to keep an open mind.
Meanwhile, this topic attracts people with extreme views and frauds. Reckless opinions are freely shared on both sides. I urge the educated young generation to avoid accepting claims without careful examination, and, most importantly, to stay open-minded.
If departed human beings can communicate with us, can advise us and help us, can have any influence on our actions,—then clearly the doors are open to a wealth of spiritual intercourse beyond what we have yet imagined.
If deceased individuals can talk to us, can offer us advice and support, can affect our choices,—then it's obvious that there's a vast potential for spiritual communication far beyond what we've considered so far.
The region of the miraculous, it is called, and the bare possibility of its existence has been hastily and illegitimately denied. But so long as we do not imagine it to be a region denuded of a law and order of its own, akin to the law and order of the psychological realm, our denial has no foundation. The existence of such a region may be established by experience; its non-existence cannot be established, for non-experience might merely mean that owing to deficiencies of our sense organs it was beyond our ken. In judging of what are called miracles we must be guided by historical evidence and literary criticism. We need not urge a priori objections to them on scientific grounds. They need be no more impossible, no more lawless, than the interference of a human being would seem to a colony of ants or bees.
The area of the miraculous is what it's called, and the mere possibility of its existence has been quickly and wrongly dismissed. However, as long as we don’t envision it as a place completely lacking its own laws and order—similar to the order found in the psychological realm—our dismissal has no basis. We can confirm the existence of such a region through experience; its non-existence can’t be proven, as a lack of experience might just indicate that it’s beyond our perception due to limitations in our senses. When evaluating what are termed miracles, we should rely on historical evidence and literary analysis. We don’t need to raise objections based on scientific grounds from the outset. They shouldn’t be seen as any more impossible or any more chaotic than the actions of a human might appear to a colony of ants or bees.
The Christian idea of God certainly has involved, and presumably always will involve, an element of the miraculous,—a flooding of human life with influences which lie outside it, a controlling of human destiny by higher and beneficent agencies. By evil agencies too? Yes, the influences are not all on one side; but the Christian faith is that the good are the stronger. Experience has shown to many a saint, however tormented by evil, that appeal to the powers of good can result in ultimate victory. Let us not reject experience on the ground of dogmatic assertion and baseless speculation.
The Christian concept of God definitely includes, and likely always will include, an aspect of the miraculous—an overwhelming presence of influences that come from beyond human life, as well as a guidance of human fate by higher and benevolent forces. Are there also evil forces? Yes, the influences aren’t all positive; however, the Christian belief is that the good are more powerful. Many saints have learned from their experiences, despite being troubled by evil, that turning to the powers of good can lead to ultimate triumph. Let’s not dismiss experience just because of rigid dogma and unfounded theories.
Historical records tell us of a Divine Incarnation. We may consider it freely on historical grounds. We are not debarred from contemplating such a thing by anything that science has to say to the contrary. Science does not speak directly on the subject. If the historical evidence is good we may credit it, just as we may credit the hypothesis of survival if the present-day evidence is good. It sounds too simple and popular an explanation—too much like the kind of ideas suited to unsophisticated man and to the infancy of the race. True; but has it not happened often in the history of science that reality has been found [ 391] simpler than our attempted conception of it? Electricity long ago was often treated as a fluid; and a little time ago it was customary to jeer at the expression—legitimate in the mouth of Benjamin Franklin, but now apparently outgrown. And yet what else is the crowd of mobile electrons, postulated by [not] the very latest theory, in a metal? Surely it is in some sense a fluid, though not a material one? The guess was not so far wrong after all. Meanwhile we learned to treat it by mathematical devices, vector potential, and other recondite methods. With great veneration I speak of the mathematical physicists of the past century. They have been almost superhuman in power, and have attained extraordinary results, but in time the process of discovery will enable mankind to apprehend all these things more simply. Progress lies in simple investigation as well as in speculation and thought up to the limits of human power; and when things are really understood, they are perceived to be fairly simple after all.
Historical records mention a Divine Incarnation. We can consider it freely on historical grounds. Nothing in science prevents us from thinking about it. Science doesn’t directly address the topic. If the historical evidence is solid, we can accept it, just like we can accept the idea of survival if today’s evidence supports it. It might seem too straightforward and popular—too much like ideas meant for naïve people or the early stages of humanity. True, but hasn’t it often happened in the history of science that reality turned out to be simpler than our attempts to understand it? Electricity was once commonly seen as a fluid; not too long ago, people made fun of the term—valid when used by Benjamin Franklin, but now seemingly outdated. Still, what else are the swarm of mobile electrons described by our current theories in a metal? Surely, in some way, it's a fluid, even if not a material one? The original guess wasn’t so wrong after all. In the meantime, we’ve learned to analyze it using mathematical tools, vector potential, and other complex methods. With great respect, I speak of the mathematical physicists from the past century. They have been almost superhuman in their abilities and achieved remarkable results, but over time, discoveries will help humanity understand these concepts more simply. Progress comes from straightforward investigation as well as from speculation and intellectual exploration within human limits; and when things are truly understood, they turn out to be relatively simple in the end.
So it seems likely to be with a future state, or our own permanent existence; it has been thought of and spoken of as if it were altogether transcendental—something beyond space and time (as it may be), something outside and beyond all conception. But it is not necessarily so at all; it is a question of fact; it is open to investigation. I find part of it turning out quite reasonably simple; not easy to grasp or express, for lack of experience and language—that is true,—but not by any means conveying a feeling of immediate vast difference and change. Something much more like terrestrial existence, at least on one aspect of it, than we had imagined. Not as a rule associated with matter; no, but perhaps associated with ether—an etherial body instead of a material one; certainly a body, or mode of manifestation, of some kind. It appears to be a state which leaves personality and character and intelligence much where it was. No sudden jump into something supernal, but steady and continued progress. Many activities and interests beyond our present ken, but with a surviving terrestrial aspect, occasionally accessible, and showing interest in the doings of those on earth, together with great desire to help and to encourage all efforts for the welfare of the race. We need [ 392] not search after something so far removed from humanity as to be unintelligible.
So it seems likely to be with a future state, or our own permanent existence; it has been thought of and discussed as if it were completely transcendent—something beyond space and time (as it may be), something outside and beyond all understanding. But it doesn't have to be that way at all; it's a matter of fact; it’s up for investigation. I find part of it turning out to be quite reasonably simple; not easy to grasp or express, due to a lack of experience and language—that's true—but it doesn’t convey a feeling of immediate vast difference or change. It’s much more like earthly existence, at least in one aspect, than we had imagined. Not usually associated with matter; no, but perhaps linked to ether—an ethereal body instead of a material one; definitely a body, or mode of manifestation, of some kind. It appears to be a state that keeps personality, character, and intelligence pretty much where they were. No sudden leap into something heavenly, but steady and continued progress. Many activities and interests beyond our current understanding, but with a surviving earthly aspect, occasionally accessible, showing interest in what those on earth are doing, along with a strong desire to help and encourage all efforts for the welfare of humankind. We need [ 392] not search for something so far removed from humanity that it's unintelligible.
So likewise with the idea of God.
So it is with the concept of God.
No matter how complex and transcendentally vast the Reality must be, the Christian conception of God is humanly simple. It appeals to the unlettered and ignorant; it appeals to "babes."
No matter how complex and incredibly vast reality is, the Christian idea of God is straightforward for people. It resonates with those who are uneducated and unaware; it speaks to "babes."
That is the way with the greatest things. The sun is the centre of the solar system, a glorious object full of mystery and unknown forces, but the sunshine is a friendly and homely thing, which shines in at a cottage window, touches common objects with radiance, and brings warmth and comfort even to the cat.
That’s how it is with the greatest things. The sun is the center of the solar system, a magnificent object full of mystery and unknown forces, but sunshine is a welcoming and familiar thing that streams in through a cottage window, lights up everyday objects with brilliance, and brings warmth and comfort even to the cat.
The sunshine is not the sun, but it is the human and terrestrial aspect of the sun; it is that which matters in daily life. It is independent of study and discovery; it is given us by direct experience, and for ordinary life it suffices.
The sunshine isn't the sun itself, but rather how we experience the sun in our everyday lives; that's what truly matters. It's separate from academic study and scientific discovery; we get it through our direct experiences, and for our daily lives, that's enough.
Thus would I represent the Christian conception of God. Christ is the human and practical and workaday aspect. Christ is the sunshine—that fraction of transcendental Cosmic Deity which suffices for the earth. Jesus of Nazareth is plainly a terrestrial heritage. His advent is the glory, His reception the shame, of the human race.
Thus would I represent the Christian conception of God. Christ is the human, practical, and everyday aspect. Christ is the sunshine—that part of the transcendent Cosmic Deity that is enough for the earth. Jesus of Nazareth is clearly a part of our earthly heritage. His arrival is the glory, and his acceptance is the shame, of humanity.
Once more, then. Although there may be undue simplification of the complex, there is also an undue complication of the simple; it is easy to invent unnecessary problems, to manufacture gratuitous difficulties, to lose our way in a humanly constructed and quite undivine fog. But the way is really simple, and when the fog lifts and the sunshine appears, all becomes clear and we proceed without effort on our way: the wayfaring man, though a fool, need not err therein. The way, the truth, and the life are all one. Reality is always simple; it is concrete and real and expressible. Our customary view of the commonest objects is not indeed the last word, nay, rather, it is the first word, as to their nature; but it is a true word as far as it goes. Analysing a liquid into a congeries of discrete atoms does not destroy or weaken or interfere with its property or fluidity. Analysing an atom into electrons [ 393] does not destroy the atom. Reducing matter to electricity, or to any other etherial substratum, does not alter the known and familiarly utilised properties of a bit of wood or iron or glass, in the least; no, nor of a bit of bone or feather or flesh. Study may superadd properties imperceptible to the plain man, but the plain man's concrete and simple view serves for ordinary purposes of daily life.
Once again, let's consider this. While it can be too simplistic to think of the complex, it can also complicate the simple too much; it’s easy to create unnecessary issues, to make problems where there aren’t any, and to get lost in a confusing mess of our own making. But the truth is, the path is really straightforward, and when the confusion clears and the sunlight shines through, everything becomes clear and we move forward effortlessly: even someone who isn’t wise can find their way. The path, the truth, and life are all one. Reality is always straightforward; it’s tangible, real, and can be expressed. Our usual perspective on the most ordinary things isn’t the final word; rather, it’s just the initial understanding of their nature, but it is accurate for what it covers. Breaking down a liquid into a collection of separate atoms doesn’t change its fluidity or properties. Breaking an atom into electrons [ 393] doesn’t destroy it. Reducing matter to electricity or any other basic form doesn’t change the known and familiar properties of a piece of wood, iron, glass, or even bone, feather, or flesh, not at all. While study may add attributes that the average person can’t see, the straightforward and simple view of the average person is sufficient for everyday life.
And God's view, strange to say, must be more akin to that of the plain man than to that of the philosopher or statistician. That is how it comes that children are near the kingdom of heaven. It is not likely that God really makes abstractions and "geometrises." All those higher and elaborate modes of expression are human counters; and the difficulties of dealing with them are human too. Only in early stages do things require superhuman power for their apprehension; they are easy to grasp when they are really understood. They come out then into daily life; they are not then matters of intellectual strain; they can appeal to our sense of beauty; they can affect us with emotion and love and appreciation and joy; they can enter into poetry and music, and constitute the subject-matter of Art of all kinds. The range of art and of enjoyment must increase infinitely with perfect knowledge. This is the atmosphere of God. "Where dwells enjoyment, there is He." We are struggling upwards into that atmosphere slowly and laboriously. The struggle is human, and for us quite necessary, but the mountain top is serene and pure and lovely, and its beauty is in nowise enhanced by the efforts of the exhausted climber, as he slowly wins his way thither.
And strangely enough, God's perspective is probably closer to that of everyday people than to that of philosophers or statisticians. That's why children are considered closer to the kingdom of heaven. It’s unlikely that God really thinks in abstractions or mathematical terms. Those complex ways of thinking are human inventions, and the challenges that come with them are also human. In the early stages, some concepts may require superhuman effort to understand, but they become easy to grasp once truly comprehended. They then manifest in everyday life; they aren't burdensome intellectual tasks; they can resonate with our sense of beauty; they can evoke emotions like love, appreciation, and joy; they can inspire poetry and music, and serve as the basis for all forms of Art. The scope of art and enjoyment must expand infinitely with perfect knowledge. This is the environment of God. "Where joy is present, there is He." We are gradually and laboriously striving to reach that environment. The struggle is a human one, and it's essential for us, but the summit is peaceful, pure, and beautiful, and its beauty isn't heightened by the weary climber's efforts as he slowly makes his way there.
Yet the effort itself is of value. The climber, too, is part of the scheme, and his upward trend may be growth and gain to the whole. It adds interest, though not beauty. Do not let us think that the universe is stagnant and fixed and settled and dull, and that all its appearance of "going on" is illusion and deception. I would even venture to urge that, ever since the grant to living creatures of free will, there must be, in some sense or other, a real element of contingency,—that there is no dulness about it, even to the Deity, but a constant and aspiring Effort.
Yet the effort itself is valuable. The climber is also part of the plan, and his upward progress might represent growth and benefit for everyone. It adds interest, even if it doesn't bring beauty. Let’s not think that the universe is stagnant, fixed, settled, and dull, and that all its signs of "moving forward" are just illusions or tricks. I would even go so far as to say that ever since living beings were given free will, there has to be, in some sense, a real element of chance — that there's no dullness in it, even for the Deity, but a constant and aspiring effort.
Let us trust our experience in this also. The Universe is a flux, it is a becoming, it is a progress. Evolution is a reality. True and not imaginary progress is possible. Effort is not a sham. Existence is a true adventure. There is a real risk.
Let’s rely on our experience here too. The Universe is constantly changing, it's about becoming, and it's about progress. Evolution is real. Genuine and tangible progress is achievable. Effort is not in vain. Life is a real adventure. There’s a genuine risk involved.
There was a real risk about creation—directly it went beyond the inert and mechanical. The granting of choice and free will involved a risk. Thenceforward things could go wrong. They might be kept right by main force, but that would not be playing the game, that would not be loyalty to the conditions.
There was a real risk to creation—it went beyond just being passive and mechanical. Allowing choice and free will came with a risk. From that point on, things could go wrong. They might be kept in line through sheer force, but that wouldn’t be playing fair; it wouldn’t be true to the conditions.
As William James says: A football team desire to get a ball to a certain spot, but that is not all they desire; they wish to do it under certain conditions and overcome inherent difficulties—else might they get up in the night and put it there.
As William James says: A football team wants to get the ball to a specific spot, but that's not all they want; they want to do it under certain conditions and overcome natural challenges—otherwise, they could just get up in the night and place it there.
So also we may say, Good is the end and aim of the Divine Being; but not without conditions. Not by compulsion. Perfection as of machinery would be too dull and low an achievement—something much higher is sought. The creation of free creatures who, in so far as they go right, do so because they will, not because they must,—that was the Divine problem, and it is the highest of which we have any conception.
So we can also say that good is the purpose and goal of the Divine Being; but it comes with conditions. Not out of force. Perfection like that of a machine would be too boring and low of a goal—something much greater is desired. The creation of free beings who choose to do good out of their own will, not because they have to—that is the Divine challenge, and it is the highest concept we can imagine.
Yes, there was a real risk in making a human race on this planet. Ultimate good was not guaranteed. Some parts of the Universe must be far better than this, but some may be worse. Some planets may comparatively fail. The power of evil may here and there get the upper hand: although it must ultimately lead to suicidal destructive failure, for evil is pregnant with calamity.
Yes, there was a real risk in creating a human race on this planet. The ultimate good was not guaranteed. Some parts of the Universe must be much better than this, but some could be worse. Some planets may comparatively fail. The power of evil may occasionally take the upper hand; however, it will ultimately lead to self-destructive failure, as evil is destined to bring about disaster.
This planet is surely not going to fail. Its destinies have been more and more entrusted to us. For millions of years it laboured, and now it has produced a human race—a late-comer to the planet, only recently arrived, only partly civilised as yet. But already it has produced Plato and Newton and Shakespeare; yes, and it has been the dwelling-place of Christ. Surely it is going to succeed, and in good time to be the theatre of such a magnificent development of human energy and power and joy as to compensate, and more than compensate, for all the pain and [ 395] suffering, all the blood and tears, which have gone to prepare the way.
This planet is definitely not going to fail. Its future has increasingly been placed in our hands. For millions of years, it has struggled, and now it has given rise to the human race—a newcomer, just recently arrived, and still only partially civilized. But already it has produced great thinkers like Plato, Newton, and Shakespeare; yes, and it has been the home of Christ. Surely, it is on the path to success, and in time, it will be the stage for an incredible development of human energy, power, and joy that will more than make up for all the pain and suffering, all the blood and tears, that have paved the way. [ 395]
The struggle is a real one. The effort is not confined to humanity alone: according to the Christian conception God has shared in it. "God so loved the world that He gave"—we know the text. The earth's case was not hopeless; the world was bad, but it could be redeemed; and the redemption was worth the painful effort which then was undergone, and which the disciples of the Cross have since in their measure shared. Aye, that is the Christian conception; not of a God apart from His creatures, looking on, taking no personal interest in their behaviour, sitting aloof only to judge them; but One who anxiously takes measures for their betterment, takes trouble, takes pains—a pregnant phrase, takes pains,—One who suffers when they go wrong, One who feels painfully the miseries and wrongdoings and sins and cruelties of the creatures whom He has endowed with free will; One who actively enters into the storm and the conflict; One who actually took flesh and dwelt among us, to save us from the slough into which we might have fallen, to show us what the beauty and dignity of man might be.
The struggle is very real. The effort isn’t just about humanity; according to the Christian belief, God is part of it too. "God so loved the world that He gave"—we all know that line. The situation on earth wasn’t hopeless; the world had issues, but it could be saved; and the redemption was worth the painful effort that was put in back then, which the followers of the Cross have also experienced in their own way. Yes, that’s the Christian belief; not of a God detached from His creations, watching them, uninterested in their actions, sitting back only to judge them; but One who genuinely cares about their improvement, who puts in the effort and takes on the burden—a significant phrase, takes on the burden—One who suffers when they go astray, One who deeply feels the suffering, wrongs, sins, and cruelty of the beings He has given free will; One who actively engages in the chaos and conflict; One who truly became human and lived among us, to save us from the pitfalls we could have fallen into, to show us the beauty and dignity of what humanity can be.
Well, it is a great idea, a great and simple idea, so simple as to be incredible to some minds. It has been hidden from many of the wise and prudent; it has been revealed to babes.
Well, it’s a fantastic idea, a great and simple idea, so simple that it seems unbelievable to some people. It has been kept from many of the wise and careful; it has been shared with the innocent.
To sum up: Let us not be discouraged by simplicity. Real things are simple. Human conceptions are not altogether misleading. Our view of the Universe is a partial one but is not an untrue one. Our knowledge of the conditions of existence is not altogether false—only inadequate. The Christian idea of God is a genuine representation of reality.
To sum up: Let’s not be discouraged by simplicity. Real things are straightforward. Human ideas aren’t completely misleading. Our perspective on the Universe isn’t the full picture, but it’s not entirely false either. Our understanding of the conditions of existence isn’t completely incorrect—just incomplete. The Christian concept of God is a true reflection of reality.
Nor let us imagine that existence hereafter, removed from these atoms of matter which now both confuse and manifest it, will be something so wholly remote and different as to be unimaginable; but let us learn by the testimony of experience—either our own or that of others—that those who have been, still are; that they care for us and help us; that they, too, are progressing and learning and working and hoping; that there are grades of existence, [ 396] stretching upward and upward to all eternity; and that God Himself, through His agents and messengers, is continually striving and working and planning, so as to bring this creation of His through its preparatory labour and pain, and lead it on to an existence higher and better than anything we have ever known.
Nor should we think that life after this one, separated from these particles of matter that currently both confuse and reveal it, will be something completely distant and different to the point of being unimaginable; instead, let’s learn from experience—whether our own or others’—that those who have passed are still present; that they care for us and assist us; that they, too, are evolving, learning, working, and hoping; that there are levels of existence, [ 396] stretching upward and upward for all eternity; and that God Himself, through His agents and messengers, is constantly striving, working, and planning to guide this creation of His through its necessary labor and suffering, leading it to a state higher and better than anything we have ever known.
Footnotes
Footnotes
[41] Hibbert Journal, July 1911.
INDEX
Abt Vogler, 297, 370
Acorn, 290
Acquired characters, Inheritance of, 323, 324
Acrostic, 19, 21, 25, 145
Adonis, 304
Æneid, 14, 317, 319
Aeroplane, 142
Agents, 291, 371, 386, 396
Alec, 35, 46, 53, 70, 71, 120, 146, 147, 157, 162, 193, 202, 208, 224,
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_2__
Amœba, 389
Animation of Matter, 363
Anonymity, 96, 117, 128, 129, 180, 240, 247
Anticipation and Reality, 303, 384, 386
Argonauts, 153, 155, 211, 250, 274
Army officers, 53
Arnold, Sir Edwin, 302, 322
Art, 393
Aspasia, 13
Asquith, Mr., 55
Atheism, 370
Atomic Theory, 288
Atonement, 178, 249, 395
Attacks, 52, 53
Aunt Anne, 175
Aunt Jennie, 203
Australia, 9, 117, 149
Automatic Writing, 86, 90, 94, 117, 118, 119, 120, 123, 124, 205, 206,
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_2__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_3__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_4__
Bacon, Lord, 378
Bailey, 61
Balfour, Rt. Hon. G. W., 283
Banks, Mitchell, 155
Barbara, 38, 112, 145, 223
Barrett, Sir W. F., 86
Bayfield, Rev. M. A., 92
Beads on string, 288
Bean, Jumping, 289, 293, 369
Beauty, 305, 383, 393
Bedales, 4, 136
Beehive, 291
Belgian stove, 44
Belgium, 25, 39
Bereavement, 47, 102, 342, 374
Bergson, Professor, 191, 333, 340, 348
Biddy, 168
Bill, Brother. See William
Birmingham, 133
Birthday, 212, 235
Boast, Captain S. T., 77, 108, 110, 112, 113
Body, 194, 195, 235, 305, 313, 318, 319, 320, 323, 388, 391
Body and Mind, 328, 330
Books, 5, 132, 209
Boy at organ, 373
Brain, Function of, 340
Bricklaying, 34
Bridging the chasm, 83, 389
Briscoe, A. E., 109, 111
British Warm, 19
Brittain, Mrs., 161
Brodie (B.), 208, 214
Brothers, Two, 200, 210
Browne, Sir James Crichton, 291
Browning, 1, 297, 370
Buddha, 381
Burial, 48, 50, 65, 235
Burial, Care taken in, 68
Burlton, Lieut., 53
Calamity, 322
Calendar of Photograph, 115
Cambridge, 286
[ 398] Card, Memorial, 12
Case, Lieut., 42, 75, 76, 77, 114, 141, 279
Caton, Dr., 155
Cavalry officers, 54
Change of Conditions, 306
Charlatans, 389
Chasm bridging, 83, 389
Château, 25, 26, 27, 66
Cheerfulness, 36, 42, 50, 59, 70, 71, 98, 99, 126, 127, 159, 187, 204
Chemistry, 100, 133, 288
Chemistry and Physics, 370
Cheves, Captain, 78, 106, 206
Childhood, 5, 8
Christian claim, 85
Christianity, 178, 232, 376, 381, 383, 392, 395
Christmas, 188, 190, 205, 207, 218
Christopher Sonnenschein, 240, 247
Clairvoyance, 86, 129
Clegg, Mrs., 237, 239, 241, 243, 253
Clifford, W. K., 388
Clothes, 189, 197, 199
Clough, A. H., 382
Code signalling, 362
Coleridge, 304
Columbus, 367
Coming down hill, 154, 155, 156
Common-sense explanations, 348, 369
Communicating, Instruction in, 165
Communication, 389
Communicator, 87, 171, 358
Coniston, 52, 155
Consciousness, 330, 332, 333
Conservation, 290
Constructive ability, 290, 291, 336
Contingency, 289, 312, 385, 393, 394
Continuity, 335, 391
Control, 86, 103, 163, 167, 170, 171, 183, 238, 241, 357, 358, 360
Control, Method, 126
Cooking, 28
1 Corinthians i. 26, 368
Corpuscles (white), 385, 386
Cotton, Colonel, 53
Covering Party, 68
Creatures, Living, 304
Crookes, Sir William, 170, 342
Cross, Falling, 99, 128
Cross-correspondence, 135, 159, 160, 172, 182, 189, 190, 241, 242, 253
Crystal and Organism, 293
Curly, 203, 273, 278
Dallas, Miss H. A., 86
Damp, 62, 70
Darlington, 240, 247
Dartmoor, 154, 155, 211, 214
Darwin, 310, 335
Darwin and Mendel, 285
Dead Matter, 289
Deakin, The Hon. Mr. Alfred, 360
Death, 6, 103, 126, 127, 134, 183, 202, 249, 294, 295, 296, 298, 300,
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__
Decay, 303
Depression, 48, 203
Design, 317, 393
Determinism, 385, 394
Diary Entry, 31, 108, 111, 115, 116, 148
Dickebusch, 21, 75
Digging, 36, 44
Diotima, 83
Direct Voice, 193, 201, 365
Direct Writing, 365
Dog, 79, 154, 203, 273, 278
Dogmatism, 314
Dowsing, 363
Dream, 31, 34, 35
Dualism, 284, 320
Dug-outs, 33, 53, 57
Dvinsk, 130
Dynamics, 286
E. A. Episode, 243, 244, 245, 267
Ecclesiastes, 92
Eclipse, Solar, 369
Edinburgh, 3, 10, 45, 52
Effort, Real, 393, 395
Eggs and bacon, 67
Egyptian tombs, 302
Electric charge, 290
Electricity, 286, 290, 375, 391
Electricity, Modern views on, 373
[ 399] Electrons, 391
Elusiveness, 319
Emotion, Conveyance of, 220, 221, 222, 278, 363
Energy, Directed, 138, 144, 151, 291
Engineering, 3, 9, 29, 240
Enjoyment, 393
Enquiry, 313, 314
Enquiry, Free, 378
Enteric, 25, 46
Entry in Diary, 31, 108, 111, 115, 116, 148
Epiphenomenon, 283, 388
Ether, 286, 298, 318, 319, 336, 339, 375, 391
Ether of Space, The, 319
Etherial body, 319, 336
Evidence, 115, 151, 159, 201, 308, 324, 373
Evil, 230, 353, 390, 394
Evolution 292, 336
Exclusion, 372, 379
Exposure, 62, 70
Extrapolation, 284, 286
Facts, 287, 288, 308, 310, 314
Faith, 367
Falling Cross, 99, 128
Faunus, 104, 315
Faunus message, 90
Fear, 126, 132, 168, 174, 175, 300
Feda, 98, 120, 121, 125, 180, 191, 192, 213, 236, 260, 261
Ferry, 154, 156, 157
Fiacre, 55
Fiddler, 46
Finding people, 254
Finger of God, 370
Fire-fly, 290
Fitzgerald, 305
Fletcher, Lieut., 17, 22, 23, 31, 32, 33, 36, 37, 38, 39, 41, 42, 43, 49,
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_2__
Flopping about, 239, 242
Flowers, 227, 235, 258, 269
Foster, Sir Michael, 368
Franklin, Benjamin, 391
Freedom, 289, 384, 394, 395
Free enquiry, 378
Free-will, 289, 315, 333, 385
Future, 313
Gale & Polden, 112, 113, 279
Gardener, 255, 256
Gas, 30, 47, 49
Gow, Mr., 111
Grades of Being, 375, 389, 396
Grades of Existence, 389, 395
Grandfather W., 121, 122, 127, 143, 159, 181, 184, 209
Granny, 121, 165
Grave, 78, 298, 302, 304
Gray, 61, 67, 76
Greece, 185
Greenbank, 8
Gregory, R. A., 338
Grove Park, 5, 135, 145
Gullane, 35, 95
Gunn, Marjorie, 58
Gurney, Edmund, 143, 145
Guy Le Breton, 122, 123
Habits, 324
Haldane, Dr. J. S., 283
Harborne, 51
Harris, Professor Fraser, 293, 294
Hell, 230, 353
Helmet, German, 64
Helping, 98, 102, 103, 123, 126, 143, 150, 160, 166, 178, 185, 226, 232,
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_2__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_3__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_4__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_5__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_6__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_7__
Herdman, Professor, 295
Hibbert Journal, 283, 285, 378
Hill, Coming down, 154, 155, 156
Hill, Mr. J. Arthur, 86, 101, 109, 111, 174, 260
Hill, 60, 38, 45, 58
Hockey, 148
Hodgson, Dr. Richard, 88, 90
Holden, Mr., 57, 65
Holt, Alfred, 155
Homeliness, 184, 336, 337
Honolulu, 216, 271, 274
Honor, 112, 122, 186, 194, 219, 222, 272, 276
Hooge, 63, 64, 74, 75
Hope, Anthony, 41
Horace, 91, 93, 104
Hospitality, 53
House-hunting, 56
Houses, 135, 145, 230
Humour, 349
[ 400] Humour of the life in France, 56
Hun, 69
Huxley, 308, 368
Hyacinthus, 304
Hypothesis, 287, 288, 389
Immanence, 386
Impersonal Memory, 348
Impersonations, 357
Impossibility, 387
Impression, 126, 160, 209
Incarnation, 381, 383, 388, 390
Individual Case, 84, 85
Infinitude, 309
Information got from Sitters, 192, 196, 199
Inheritance of acquired characters, 323, 324
Inhibition, 138, 340
Inspection by Army Corps Commander, 71
Inspiration, 381
Instruction in communicating, 165
Instruments, 320
Intelligibility, 380
Interaction, 283, 317, 366, 372
Intercommunion, 376
"Irish Eyes," 215
Italy, 11, 43, 45, 144, 278
Jackson, Mr., 256, 258, 278
James, Professor Wm., 87, 394
J. K. Episode, 254, 266
Joan of Arc, 381
Johnsons, 32
Jumping bean, 289, 293, 369
Kelvin, Lord, 286, 375
Kennedy, Mrs., 96, 97, 117, 120, 129, 158, 205
Kitchener, Lord, 55
Knife-rests, 28
Langland Bay, 157
Lankester, Sir E. Ray, 332
Laplace, 370, 385
Larry, 79, 154, 278
Laws, Mr., 17, 21, 23, 39, 42, 43, 51
Leave, 52, 54, 55
Lectures, 43, 265
Leith, Miss, 70
Leith, Professor, 24
Leonard, Mrs. Orborne, 98, 101, 106, 118, 121, 365
Lethe, 327
Life, 289
Life and Energy, 290
Life and Matter, 320
Light, 286
Lights, Coloured, 264
Lights, "Very," 22, 24, 30, 31, 64
Lily, 134, 159, 187, 190, 199, 200, 210, 221, 229, 273
Limitation of Scope, 341
Linga, The, 67, 95
Lionel, 70, 147, 180, 186, 188, 193, 196, 202, 271, 273
Liverpool, 3, 10, 135
Living creatures, 304
Lodge Brothers, 3, 9, 79
Lodge Fume Deposit Co., 79
Longfellow, 306
Loos, 74
Lorna, 52, 112, 220, 224
Lusitania, 299, 300
M.A.Oxon., 350
Machine Gun, 3, 52, 54, 61, 66, 73, 77
Madame Le Breton, 97, 119, 121, 123, 135
Maggie Magee, 215
Magnetism, 144, 164, 290
Maps, 251, 252
Margaret, 45
Mariemont Sittings, 158, 159, 182, 190, 194, 211, 217, 219, 222, 273,
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__
Mariemont, Views of, 224
Materialisation, 184, 197, 198, 201, 268, 365
Materialism, 249, 284, 285, 310
Mathematical Physics, 286
Matter, Dead, 289
Matter and Life, 320
Maurice, 40, 41, 43, 72
Maxwell, Clerk, 391
McCreadie, Miss, 228
M'Dougal, Professor, 283
Meagreness of Conceptions, 310
Mechanics, 289
[ 401] Mechanism, 88, 388
Medium of artist, 88, 320, 339
Mediums, 118, 128, 330, 358
Memorial Card, 12
Memorial Tablet, 7
Memory, 259, 326, 327, 330, 348, 357
Mendel and Darwin, 285
Menexenus, 13
Merlin, 93
Messiah, 376, 382
Microbe, 387
Military terms, 41
Mind and Matter, 291, 339
Mines, 57, 61
Miracles, 390
Missionary spirit, 325
Missionary zeal, 83
Mitchell, Captain, 141, 142, 146, 149
Mitchell, Dr. Chalmers, 333, 334, 335
M. N. W., 228, 229
Molesworth, 71
Monism, 284
Moonstone, 100, 105, 129, 164, 177
Moses, Rev. Stainton, 350
Motor, Nagant, 277
Motor-buses, 51, 52, 72
Motoring, 58, 156
Motors, 58, 71, 212, 252, 278
Mott, Dr., 329
Mud, 17, 20, 184
Muirhead, Dr. Alex., 170
Muirhead, Prof. J. H., 337
Music, 46, 222, 234
"My Southern Maid," 216
Myers, 84, 85, 88, 90, 92, 96, 97, 98, 100, 101, 103, 104, 122, 143, 145,
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_2__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_3__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_4__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_5__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_6__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_7__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_8__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_9__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_10__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_11__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_12__
Nagant Motor, 275, 277, 278
Names, 173
Names, Difficulty in remembering, 360
Negations, 379, 387, 390
Nerve cases, 40
Newcastle, 145, 220
Newton, 286, 394
Nicknames, 148
Noël, 22, 70, 140, 146, 148, 224, 276
Norah, 38, 39, 52, 219, 271, 273
Norman, 140, 146, 147, 148, 179
Note-book, 326
Note-taking, 358
O'Brien, Sergeant, 33
Old age, 295
Olive, Miss, 227, 229, 262, 269
Oliver, 6, 45, 52, 135
Olives, 131, 144
Omniscience, 316
"Orange Girl, My," 215
Oratorio, 290
Orderly, 16, 18, 28, 61, 67, 76
Organ, Boy at, 373
Organising Power. See Constructive Ability
Organism and Crystal, 293
Ouija, 186, 356
Outlook, 374
Paraffin, exchange for window, 44
Partition, 100, 133, 306, 345
Pat, 140, 148, 161, 223
Paul Kennedy, 117, 119, 121, 123, 146, 149, 176, 234, 235, 241
Peace, 25, 50
Peacock, 256, 257, 258, 278
Pedestal, 257, 279
Penkhull, 8
Periscope rifle attachments, 62
Personal possessions, 324
Personality, 298, 336, 383, 387, 391
Peters, Mr. A. Vout, 99, 104, 105, 118, 129, 162, 163, 174, 178, 260
Phagocytes, 386
Phinuit, Dr., 129
Phonograph, 328
Photograph, 105, 112, 114, 116, 132, 206, 279
Photograph, Calendar of, 115
Photograph, Description of, 110
Physical phenomena, 137, 218, 222, 224, 277
Physics and Chemistry, 370
Piddington, Mr., 172
[ 402] Piper, Mrs., 87, 90, 94, 95, 129, 228
Planchette, 356, 362
Planisphere, 30
Plato, 13, 394
Plotinus, 325, 327, 330, 337
Plumer, Sir Herbert, 71
Polchet, M., 43, 45, 46, 51
Policy not philosophy, 284, 285
Poperinghe, 71
Prayer, 183, 227, 307, 376
Prediction. See Prevision
Prejudice, 379
Prevision, 35, 130, 185, 312, 314, 315, 316, 385
Primus stove, 18, 29, 44
Prisoners, 47
Private affairs, 374
Professional mediums, 118, 128
Prognostication. See Prevision
Progress, 395
Protoplasm, 388
Psychometry, 305, 306
Purpose, 285
Questions, Test, 152, 157, 159, 224, 249
Ralph, 173, 273, 274
Raps, 89
Rathbone, William, 8
Rats, 28
Rawnsley, Canon, 12
Reality and Anticipation, 303, 384, 386
Record sleeps, 66, 119, 120, 121, 123, 145
Rector, 129
Red flames, 369
Red roses, 246, 261
Redfeather, 166, 235
Relics, 305, 324
Reninghelst, 113
Resurrection, 298, 322, 323
Revelation, 309, 376, 384
Reverse, 34
Riding, 37, 38
Risk, 394
Robbins, Miss, 90
Rocking-horse, 220
Rods and rings, 251, 253
Room in Violet's house, 45, 226
Rosalynde, 109, 112, 145, 272
Roscoe, Lt. William, 42, 58, 60, 73
Roses, 46, 47, 246, 261
Ross, Sir Ronald, 294
Rossetti, 296
Roumania, 186
Rowland, 35, 131, 135, 191, 226
Russell, Bertrand, 315
Russia, 186
Sacraments, 321
Sacrifice, 178, 249
Salter, Captain, 48
Sandboat, 251, 252, 253, 260
Satellites of Jupiter, 341
Sausages, 59, 61, 67
Schuster, Dr. Arthur, 303, 368, 369
Science, Men of, 368
Secondary personality, 86, 171, 357
Selection, 88
Self-control, 225
Senses, 380
Serbia, 186
Serenading, 46
Serious messages, 352
Serious side, 11, 233, 234, 259, 263, 266
Servants, 16, 18, 28, 61, 67, 76
Shakespeare, 304, 315, 394
Shell shock, 329
Shelley, 81
Shelling, 3, 32, 60, 62
Shrapnel, 32, 45, 47
Sighs, 139, 160
Simplicity, 380, 381, 384, 391, 392, 395
Sinai, 335
Singing, 201, 212, 213
Sitter, 358
Sitters, Information from, 192, 196, 199
Slang, 40
Sleeps, 66, 119, 120, 121, 123, 145
Small Heath, 79, 132, 133
Smyth, Dr. J. Patterson, 344
Snipers, 48
Sniperscopes, 63, 68
Solidity, 184, 194, 198, 209, 375
Songs, 212, 215, 222
[ 403] Sonnenschein, Professor, 240, 246, 247
Sophistication, 87, 88, 180, 192, 213, 351
Souvenir, 64, 69
Speculation, 310
Speech, 338
Spirit and Matter, 320, 323
Spirit Teachings, 350
Spiritual body, 319
S. P. R., 83, 84, 85, 87, 89, 100, 102, 104, 114, 133, 172, 346, 371, 372
Stallard, 79, 154
Stand-to, 43, 44, 65, 66
Stars, 24, 30, 200, 306, 309
Stead, Mr., 131, 178
St. Eloi, 73, 75
St. Germains, 277
St. Omer, 51
St. Paul, 102, 170
String, 196
String of beads, 288
Strong, Professor, 94
Suffering, 178
Summerland, 224, 230, 233, 263
Superstition, 318
Supremacy of Spiritual over Material, 317
Surroundings of non-material existence, 336
Survival, General, 336
Survival of Man, 83, 86, 87, 101, 172
Swinburne, 4, 7
Symbols, 305
Symposium, 83
Table tilting, 89, 121, 122, 136, 137, 138, 143, 144, 151, 183, 190, 224,
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_2__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_3__
Tate, Harry, 54
Taylor, Captain, 15, 17, 22, 37, 63, 64, 69, 71, 72
Telegram, 153
Telekinesis, 89
Telepathy, 88, 114, 275, 283, 313, 339, 346
Telephone operators, 87
Telergy, 88
Tennyson, 281, 289, 305, 309, 316, 320, 326, 345, 348
Tent, 250, 252, 266
Tent Lodge, Coniston, 155
Tests, 152, 157, 159, 224, 249
Theological attitude, 314
Theology, 352, 384, 395
Think things wanted said, 159
Thomas, Humphrey, 17, 23, 31, 42, 43, 47, 49
Thompson, Mrs. Isaac, 112
Thomson, Professor J. Arthur, 283
Thought Forms, 184, 198, 230
Tools, 320
Trance, 129, 356
Trance medium, 86, 88
Transcendence, 380, 384
Transition, 101, 288, 306
Trench improvement, 29, 33, 36, 63, 64, 66
Trenches, 20, 24
Trivial messages, 346, 349
Truncation of Life, 322
Tunnel simile, 100, 133
Uncle Jerry, 166
Unity, 284, 306, 307, 337
Unverifiable statements, 171, 188, 195, 196, 207, 209, 226, 230, 347
Ventris, Mr., 57, 74, 76, 77, 78
Verrall, Mr., 88, 91, 336
Versailles, 43
Violet, 35, 45, 52, 134, 226
Virgil, 14, 317, 319, 373
Vital Force, 371
Voice, 193, 201, 365
Walker, Messrs. Thos. & Son, 63
Wallace, Dr. A. Russel, 334, 342
War, 185, 309
Warning, 225, 342
Way, Lieutenant, 53, 55
Weddings, 58
Weismann, Professor, 295, 323
Whizz-bangs, 56, 60
Will, 134
William (see also Grandfather and Gardener), 159, 187, 190, 210, 213,
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__
Window, exchange for paraffin, 44
[ 404] Winifred, 52
Winter campaign, 50
Wireless telegraphy, 244, 338
Wolseley Motor Works, 4, 79
Wood, Miss. F. A., 218, 221
Woolacombe, 250, 253
Wordsworth, vi
Workers, 291
Wriedt, Mrs., 118
Wyatt, Lieut., 19, 42
Yacht, 251, 266
Yogi, 177
Ypres, 12, 31, 44, 47, 58, 74, 78, 92
Zeppelins, 228
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