The making of religion by Andrew Lang. - HTML preview

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facts' _do_ happen.[12] These 'marvel ous facts,' accepted by M. Guyau,

are what Hume cal ed 'miracles,' and advised the 'wise and learned' to

laugh at, without examination. They were not facts, and could not be, he

said. Now to M. Guyau's mind they _are_ facts, and therefore are not

miracles. He includes 'mental suggestion taking place even at a distance.'

A man 'can transmit an almost compulsive command, it appears nowadays, by

a simple tension of his will.' If this be so, if 'will' can affect matter

from a distance, obviously the relations of will and matter are not what

popular science tells us that they are. Again, if this truth is now

established, and won from that region which Hume and popular science

forbid us to investigate, who knows what other facts may be redeemed from

that limbo, or how far they may affect our views of possibilities? The

admission of mental action, operative _a distance_, is, of course,

personal only to M. Guyau, among friends of the new negative tradition.

We return to Hume. He next argues that the pleasures of wonder make al

accounts of 'miracles' worthless. He has just given an example of the

equivalent pleasures of dogmatic disbelief. Then Religion is a disturbing

force; but so, manifestly, is irreligion. 'The wise and learned are

content to deride the absurdity, without informing themselves of the

particular facts.' The wise and learned are applauded for their scientific attitude. Again, miracles destroy each other, for al religions have their miracles, but al religions cannot be true. This argument is no longer of

force with people who look on 'miracles' as = 'X phenomena,' not as divine evidences to the truth of this or that creed. 'The gazing populace

receives, without examination, whatever soothes superstition,' and

Hume's whole purpose is to make the wise and learned imitate the gazing

populace by rejecting al eged facts 'without examination.' The populace

investigated more than did the wise and learned.

Hume has an alternative definition of a miracle--'a miracle is a

transgression of a law of nature by a particular volition of the Deity, or by the interposition of some invisible agent.' We reply that what

Hume calls a 'miracle' may result from the operation of some as yet

unascertained law of nature (say self-suggestion), and that our business,

at present, is to examine such events, not to account for them.

It may fairly be said that Hume is arguing against men who wished to make

so-called 'miracles' a test of the truth of Jansenism, for example, and

that he could not be expected to answer, by anticipation, ideas not

current in his day. But he remains guilty of denouncing the investigation

of apparent facts. No attitude can be less scientific than his, or more

common among many men of science.

According to the humorous wont of things in this world, the whole question of the marvel ous had no sooner been settled for ever by David Hume than

it was reopened by Emanuel Swedenborg. Now, Kant was familiar with certain of the works of Hume, whether he had read his 'Essay on Miracles' or not.

Far from declining to examine the portentous 'visions' of Swedenborg, Kant interested himself deeply in the topic. As early as 1758 he wrote his

first remarks on the seer, containing some reports of stories or legends

about Swedenborg's 'clairvoyance.' In the true spirit of psychical

research, Kant wrote a letter to Swedenborg, asking for information at

first hand. The seer got the letter, but he never answered it. Kant,

however, prints one or two examples of Swedenborg's successes. Madame

Harteville, widow of the Dutch envoy in Stockholm, was dunned by a

silversmith for a debt of her late husband's. She believed that it had

been paid, but could not find the receipt. She therefore asked Swedenborg

to use his renowned gifts. He promised to see what he could do, and, three days later, arrived at the lady's house while she was giving a tea, or

rather a coffee, party. To the assembled society Swedenborg remarked, 'in

a cold-blooded way, that he had seen her man, and spoken to him.' The late M. Harteville declared to Swedenborg that he had paid the bill, seven

months before his decease: the receipt was in a cupboard upstairs. Madame

Harteville replied that the cupboard had been thoroughly searched to no

purpose. Swedenborg answered that, as he learned from the ghost, there was a secret drawer behind the side-plank within the cupboard. The drawer

contained diplomatic correspondence, and the missing receipt. The whole

company then went upstairs, found the secret drawer, and the receipt among the other papers. Kant adds Swedenborg's clairvoyant vision, from

Gothenburg, of a great fire at Stockholm (dated September 1756). Kant

pined to see Swedenborg himself, and waited eagerly for his book, 'Arcana

Coelestia.' At last he obtained this work, at the ransom, ruinous to Kant

at that time, of 7L. But he was disappointed with what he read, and in

'Traeume eines Geistersehers,' made a somewhat sarcastic attempt at a

metaphysical theory of apparitions.

'Velut aegri somnia vanae

Finguntur species'

is his motto.

Kant's real position about al these matters is, I venture to say, almost

identical with that of Sir Walter Scott. A Scot himself, by descent, Kant

may have heard tales of second-sight and bogles. Like Scott, he dearly

loved a ghost-story; like Scott he was canny enough to laugh, publicly, at them and at himself for his interest in them. Yet both would take trouble

to inquire. As Kant vainly wrote to Swedenborg and others--as he vainly

spent 7L. on 'Arcana Coelestia,' so Sir Walter was anxious to go to Egypt

to examine the facts of ink-gazing clairvoyance. Kant confesses that each

individual ghost-story found him sceptical, whereas the cumulative mass

made a considerable impression.[13]

The first seventy pages of the 'Tribune' are devoted to a perfectly

serious discussion of the metaphysics of 'Spirits.' On page 73 he

pleasantly remarks, 'Now we shal understand that all said hitherto is

superfluous,' and he will not reproach the reader who regards seers _not_

as citizens of two worlds (Plotinus), but as candidates for Bedlam.

Kant's irony is peculiarly Scottish. He does not himself know how far he

is in earnest, and, to save his self-respect and character for canniness,

he 'jocks wi' deeficulty.' He amuses himself with trying how far he can

carry speculations on metaphysics (not yet reformed by himself) into the

realm of the ghostly. He makes admissions about his own tendency to think

that he has an immaterial soul, and that these points are, or may be, or

some day will be, scientifical y solved. These admissions are eagerly

welcomed by Du Prel in his 'Philosophy of Mysticism;' but they are only

part of Kant's joke, and how far they are serious, Kant himself does not

know. If spiritualists knew their own business, they would translate and

publish Kant's first seventy pages of 'Traeume.' Something like telepathy, action of spirit, even discarnate, on spirit, is al uded to, but the idea

is as old as Lavaterus at least (p. 52). Kant has a good deal to say, like Scott in his 'Demonology,' on the physics of Hal ucination, but it is

antiquated matter. He thinks the whole topic of spiritual being only

important as bearing on hopes of a future life. As speculation, all is 'in the air,' and as in such matters the learned and unlearned are on a level

of ignorance, science will not discuss them. He then repeats the

Swedenborg stories, and thinks it would be useful to posterity if some one would investigate them while witnesses are alive and memories are fresh.

In fact, Kant asks for psychical research.

As for Swedenborg's so costly book, Kant laughs at it. There is in it no

evidence, only assertion. Kant ends, having pleased nobody, he says, and

as ignorant as when he began, by citing _cultivons notre jardin_.

Kant returned to the theme in 'Anthropologische Didaktik.' He discusses

the unconscious, or sub-conscious, which, till Sir William Hamilton

lectured, seems to have been an absolutely unknown topic to British

psychologists. 'So ist das Feld dunkler Vorstellungen das groesste in

Menschen.' He has a chapter on 'The Divining Faculty' (pp. 89-93). He will not hear of presentiments, and, unlike Hegel, he scouts the Highland

second-sight. The 'possessed' of anthropology are epileptic patients.

Mystics (Swedenborg) are victims of _Schwaermerei_.

This reference to Swedenborg is remarked upon by Schubert in his preface

to the essay of Kant. He points out that 'it is interesting to compare the circumspection, the almost uncertainty of Kant when he had to deliver a

judgment on the phenomena described by himself and as to which he had made inquiry [i.e. in his letter _re_ Swedenborg to Ml e. de Knobloch], and the very decided opinions he expressed forty years later on Swedenborg and

his companions' [in the work cited, sections 35-37. The opinion in

paragraph 35 is a general one as to mystics. There is no other mention of

Swedenborg].

On the whole Kant is interested, but despairing. He wants facts, and no

facts are given to him but the book of the Prophet Emanuel. But, as it

happened, a new, or a revived, order of facts was just about to solicit

scientific attention. Kant had (1766) heard rumours of healing by

magnetism, and of the al eged effect of the magnet on the human frame. The subject was in the air, and had already won the attention of Mesmer, about whom Kant had information. It were superfluous to tel again the familiar

story of Mesmer's performances at Paris. While Mesmer's theory of

'magnetism' was denounced by contemporary science, the discovery of the

hypnotic sleep was made by his pupil, Puysegur. This gentleman was

persuaded that instances of 'thought-transference' (not through known

channels of sense) occurred between the patient and the magnetiser, and he also believed that he had witnessed cases of 'clairvoyance,' 'lucidity,'

_vue a distance_, in which the patient apparently beheld places and events remote in space. These things would now be explained by 'unconscious

suggestion' in the more sceptical schools of psychological science. The

Revolution interrupted scientific study in France to a great degree, but

'somnambulism' (the hypnotic sleep) and 'magnetism' were eagerly examined

in Germany. Modern manuals, for some reason, are apt to overlook these

German researches and speculations. (Compare Mr. Vincent's 'Elements of

Hypnotism,' p. 34.) The Schel ings were interested; Ritter thought he had

detected a new force, 'Siderism.' Mr. Wallace, in his preface to Hegel's

'Philosophie des Geistes,' speaks as if Ritter had made experiments in

telepathy. He may have done so, but his 'Siderismus' (Tuebingen, 1808)

is a Report undertaken for the Academy of Munich, on the doings of an

Italian water-finder, or 'dowser.' Ritter gives details of seventy-four

experiments in 'dowsing' for water, metals, or coal. He believes in the

faculty, but not in 'psychic' explanations, or the Devil. He talks

about 'electricity' (pp. 170, 190). He describes his precautions to

avoid vulgar fraud, but he took no precautions against unconscious

thought-transference. He reckoned the faculty 'temperamental' and useful.

Amoretti, at Milan, examined hundreds of cases of the so-called Divining

Rod, and Jung Stilling became an early spiritualist and 'ful -wel ing

fountain head' of ghost stories.

Probably the most important philosophical result of the early German

researches into the hypnotic slumber is to be found in the writings of

Hegel. Owing to his peculiar use of a terminology, or scientific language, all his own, it is extremely difficult to make Hegel's meaning even

moderately clear. Perhaps we may partly elucidate it by a similitude of

Mr. Frederic Myers. Suppose we compare the ordinary everyday consciousness of each of us to a _spectrum_, whose ends towards each extremity fade out

of our view.

Beyond the range of sight there may be imagined a lower or physiological

end: for our ordinary consciousness, of course, is unaware of many

physiological processes which are eternally going on within us. Digestion, so long as it is healthy, is an obvious example. But hypnotic experiment

makes it certain that a patient, in the _hypnotic_ condition, can

consciously, or at least purposeful y, affect physiological processes to

which the _ordinary_ consciousness is blind--for example, by raising a

blister, when it is suggested that a blister must be raised. Again

(granting the facts hypothetical y and merely for the sake of argument),

at the _upper_ end of the spectrum, beyond the view of ordinary everyday

consciousness, knowledge may be acquired of things which are out of the

view of the consciousness of every day. For example (for the sake of

argument let us admit it), unknown and remote people and places may be

seen and described by clairvoyance, or _vue a distance_.

Now Hegel accepted as genuine the facts which we here adduce merely for

the sake of argument, and by way of illustrations. But he did not regard

the clairvoyant consciousness (or whatever we cal it) which, _ex

hypothesi_, is untrammel ed by space, or even by time, as occupying what

we style the _upper_ end of the psychical spectrum. On the contrary, he

placed it at the _lower_ end. Hegel's upper end 'loses itself in light;'

the lower end, _qui voit tant de choses_, as La Fontaine's shepherd says,

is _not_ 'a sublime mental phase, and capable of conveying general

truths.' Time and space do not thwart the consciousness at Hegel's _lower_

end, which springs from 'the great soul of nature.' But that lower end,

though it may see for Jeanne d'Arc at Valcouleurs a battle at Rouvray, a

hundred leagues away, does not communicate any lofty philosophic

truths.[14] The phenomena of clairvoyance, in Hegel's opinion, merely

indicate that the 'material' is real y 'ideal,' which, perhaps, is as much as we can ask from them. 'The somnambulist and clairvoyant see without

eyes, and carry their visions directly into regions where the waiting

consciousness of orderly intel igence cannot enter' (Wallace). Hegel

admits, however, that 'in ordinary self-possessed conscious life' there

are traces of the 'magic tie,' 'especial y between female friends of

delicate nerves,' to whom he adds husband and wife, and members of the

same family. He gives (without date or source) a case of a girl in Germany who saw her brother lying dead in a hospital at Val adolid. Her brother

was at the time in the hospital, but it was another man in the nest bed

who was dead. 'It is thus impossible to make out whether what the

clairvoyants real y see preponderates over what they deceive themselves

in.'

As long as the facts which Hegel accepted are not officially welcomed by

science, it may seem superfluous to dispute as to whether they are

attained by the lower or the higher stratum of our consciousness. But

perhaps the question here at issue may be elucidated by some remarks of

Dr. Max Dessoir. Psychology, he says, has proved that in every conception

and idea an image or group of images must be present. These mental images

are the recrudescence or recurrence of perceptions. We see a tree, or a

man, or a dog, and whenever we have before our minds the conception or

idea of any of these things the original perception of them returns,

though of course more faintly. But in Dr. Dessoir's opinion these revived

mental images would reach the height of actual hal ucinations (so that the man, dog, or tree would seem visibly present) if other memories and new

sensations did not compete with them and check their development.

Suppose, to use Mlle. Ferrand's metaphor, a human body, living, but with

all its channels of sensation hitherto unopened. Open the sense of sight

to receive a flash of green colour, and close it again. Apparently,

whenever the mind informing this body had the conception of green (and it

could have no other) it would also have an hallucination of green, thus

'Annihilating all that's made,

To a green thought in a green shade.'

Now, in sleep or hypnotic trance the competition of new sensations and

other memories is removed or diminished, and therefore the idea of a man,

dog, or tree once suggested to the hypnotised patient, does become an

actual hal ucination. The hypnotised patient sees the absent object which

he is told to see, the sleeper sees things not real y present.

Our primitive state, before the enormous competition of other memories and new sensations set in, would thus be a state of hallucination. Our normal

present condition, in which hal ucination is checked by competing memories and new sensations, is a suppression of our original, primitive, natural

tendencies. Hallucination represents 'the main trunk of our psychical

existence.'[15] In Dr. Dessoir's theory this condition of hal ucination

is man's original and most primitive condition, but it is not a _higher_,

rather a lower state of spiritual activity than the everyday practical

unhal ucinated consciousness.

This is also the opinion of Hegel, who supposes our primitive mental

condition to be capable of descrying objects remote in space and time. Mr.

Myers, as we saw, is of the opposite opinion, as to the relative dignity

and relative reality of the present everyday self, and the old original

fundamental Self. Dr. Dessoir refrains from pronouncing a decided opinion

as to whether the original, primitive, hallucinated self within us does

'preside over powers and actions at a distance,' such as clairvoyance; but he believes in hypnotisation at a distance. His theory, like Hegel's, is

that of 'atavism,' or 'throwing back' to some very remote ancestral

condition. This will prove of interest later.

Hegel, at all events, believed in the fact of clairvoyance (though deeming it of little practical use); he accepted telepathy ('the magic tie'); he

accepted interchange of sensations between the hypnotiser and the

hypnotised; he believed in the divining rod, and, unlike Kant, even in

'Scottish second-sight.' 'The intuitive soul oversteps the conditions of

time and space; it beholds things remote, things long past, and things to

come.'[16]

The pendulum of thought has swung back a long way from the point whither

it was urged by David Hume. Hegel remarks: 'The facts, it might seem,

first of al call for verification. But such verification would be

superfluous to those on whose account it was cal ed for, since they

facilitate the inquiry for themselves by declaring the narratives,

infinitely numerous though they be, and accredited by the education and

character of the witnesses, to be mere deception and imposture. Their _a

priori_ conceptions are so rooted that no testimony can avail against

them, and they have even denied what they have seen with their own eyes,'

and reported under their own hands, like Sir David Brewster. Hegel, it

will be observed, takes the facts as given, and works them into his

general theory of the Sensitive Soul (_fuehlende Seele_). He does not try

to establish the facts; but to establish, or at least to examine them, is

the first business of Psychical Research. Theorising comes later.

The years which have passed between the date of Hegel's 'Philosophy of

Mind' and our own time have witnessed the long dispute over the existence, the nature, and the causes of the hypnotic condition, and over the reality and limitations of the phenomena. Thus the Academy of Medicine in Paris

appointed a Committee to examine the subject in 1825. The Report on

'Animal Magnetism,' as it was then styled, was presented in 1831. The

Academy lacked the courage to publish it, for the Report was favourable

even to certain of the still disputed phenomena. At that time, in

accordance with a survival of the theory of Mesmer, the agent in hypnotic

cases was believed to be a kind of efflux of a cosmic fluid from the

'magnetiser' to the patient. There was 'a magnetic connection.'

Though no distinction between mesmerism and hypnotism is taken in popular

language, 'mesmerism' is a word implying this theory of 'magnetic' or

other unknown personal influence. 'Hypnotism,' as will presently be seen,

implies no such theory. The Academy's Report (1831) attested the

development, under 'magnetism,' of 'new faculties,' such as clairvoyance

and intuition, also the production of 'great changes in the physical

economy,' such as insensibility, and sudden increase of strength. The

Report declared it to be 'demonstrated' that sleep could be produced

'without suggestion,' as we say now, though the term was not then in use.

'Sleep has been produced in circumstances in which the persons could not

see or were ignorant of the means employed to produce it.'

The Academy did its best to suppress this Report, which attests the

phenomena that Hegel accepted, phenomena still disputed. Six years later

(1837), a Committee reported against the pretensions of a certain Berna,

a 'magnetiser.' No person acted on both Committees, and this Report was

accepted. Later, a number of people tried to read a letter in a box, and

failed. 'This,' says Mr. Vincent, 'settled the question with regard to

clairvoyance;' though it might be more logical to say that it settled the

pretensions of the competitors on that occasion. The Academy now decided

that, because certain persons did not satisfy the expectations raised by

their preliminary advertisements, therefore the question of magnetism was

definitely closed.

We have often to regret that scientific eminence is not always accompanied by scientific logic. Where science neglects a subject, charlatans and

dupes take it up. In England 'animal magnetism' had been abandoned to this class of enthusiasts, till Thackeray's friend, Dr. El iotson, devoted

himself to the topic. He was persecuted as doctors know how to persecute;

but in 1841, Braid, of Manchester, discovered that the so-called 'magnetic sleep' could be produced without any 'magnetism,' He made his patients

stare fixedly at an object, and encouraged them to expect to go to sleep.

He cal ed his method 'Hypnotism,' a term which begs no question. Seeming

to cease to be mysterious, hypnotism became al but respectable, and was

being used in surgical operations, till it was superseded by chloroform.

In England, the study has been, and remains, rather _suspect_, while on

The Continent hypnotism is used both for healing purposes and in the

inquiries of experimental psychology. Wide differences of opinion still

exist, as to the nature of the hypnotic sleep, as to its physiological

concomitants, and as to the limits of the faculties exercised in or out of the slumber. It is not even absolutely certain that the exercise of the

stranger faculties--for instance, that the production of anaesthesia and

rigidity--are the results merely of 'suggestion' and expectancy. A

hypnotised patient is told that the middle finger of his left hand will

become rigid and incapable of sensation. This occurs, and is explained by

'suggestion,' though _how_ 'suggestion' produces the astonishing effect

is another problem. The late Mr. Gurney, however, made a number of

experiments in which no suggestion was pronounced, nor did the patients

know which of their fingers was to become rigid and incapable of pain. The patient's hands were thrust through a screen; on the other side of which

the hypnotist made passes above the finger which was to become rigid. The

lookers-on selected the finger, and the insensibility was tested by a

strong electric current. The effect was also produced _without_ passes,

the operator merely pointing at the selected finger, and 'willing' the

result. If he did not 'will' it, nothing occurred, nor did anything occur

if he willed without pointing. The proximity of the operator's hand

produced no effect if he did not 'will,' nor was his 'willing' successful

if he did not bring his hand near that of the patient. Other people's

hands, similarly situated, produced no effect.

Experiments in transferring taste, as of salt, sugar, cayenne pepper, from operator to subject, were also successful. Drs. Janet and Gibert also

produced sleep in a woman at a distance, by 'willing' it, at hours which

were selected by a system of drawing lots.[17] These facts, of course,

rather point to an element of truth in the old mesmeric hypothesis of some specific influence in the operator. They cannot very well be explained by

suggestion and expectancy. But these facts and facts of clairvoyance and

thought-transference will be rejected as superstitious delusions by people who have not met them in their own experience. This need not prevent us

from examining them, because _all_ the facts, including those now

universally accepted by Continental and scarcely impeached by British

science, have been noisily rejected again and again on Hume's principles.

The rarer facts, as Mr. Gurney remarks, 'still go through the hollow form

of taking place.' Here is an example of the mode in which these phenomena

are treated by popular science. Mr. Vincent says that 'clairvoyance and

phrenology were El iotson's constant stock in trade.' (Phrenology was