(3) On the other hand, it might possibly be that our persistence depends upon our ability to persist. The theory of mind developed by modern researches in psycho-pathology is that the mind of man—instead of being a single "unit," as was formerly supposed—is composed of a number of threads or strands, so to speak, held together by our attention and our will. Once these are relaxed, the mind "unravels" and goes to pieces. A single, strongly-woven, and well-bound rope might stand a sudden wrench and shock, while a less perfectly-made one would tear and snap under the strain. Similarly, it might be urged, if the mind be sufficiently balanced, strengthened, and controlled, it might withstand the shock of death; otherwise it would not. Whether or not we persist would thus depend upon our ability to control and hold ourselves together, as it were; upon our strength of will; upon the degree of development of the central personality. When this is lacking, "psychical disintegration" takes place, and we fail to survive the last great Ordeal.
While this theory may possibly be true, it seems to me that it is very probably untrue, for the reason that this is not a question of moral worth which we are considering, but of scientific law—of the Conservation of Energy, of the ability of life and consciousness of any sort—good or bad—to exist apart from brain-functioning. That is the question! Once grant that mind of any kind can persist by and of itself, independent of a physical organization, and you have so far broken down the barriers of materialism that there should not be the slightest objection to granting the persistence of consciousness of any sort—with the probability that it would so persist. Cosmic Law could hardly act otherwise.
(4) I know well enough that psychic investigation is, at present at least, in a chaotic and uncertain condition, and that little beyond uncertainty and discouragement has been attained in the past. As Mr. F. C. Constable remarked:
"Many of us who have devoted our lives to psychical research can but have moments of profound depression. We feel our labours cannot be in vain, but we are faced by such a complexity of fraud, deliberate and unconscious, mal-observation, denial of scientific restrictions, and ignorance of what is trustworthy in evidence and deduction, that at times our search for truth seems as futile as the search of past alchemists for the philosopher's stone."
And even more forcibly Count Aksakof states the objections which have occurred to him:
"As years went by, the weak points of spiritualism became more evident and more numerous. The insignificance of the communications, the poverty of their intellectual content, and finally the fraud, etc.—in short, a host of doubts, objections, and aberrations of every kind—greatly increased the difficulties of the problem. Such impressions were well calculated to discourage one, if, on the other hand, we had not at our disposal a series of indisputable facts." (Animism and Spiritism.)
While this is doubtless true, it is nevertheless a fact that psychical research is, as yet, in its infancy; and it is in a sense unfair to judge the results by the few years of progress which have been possible in the past. For while other sciences—physics, chemistry, anatomy—are more than two thousand years old, psychical research is but forty years old—some of the original founders of the S.P.R. being still alive and actively engaged in the work! It is, then, somewhat premature to pronounce upon the ultimate outcome of the investigation, and we must wait for at least a hundred years or so before it will be possible to see whether or not the subject has proved its claims and justified itself in the eyes of the world. And this view of the case is further supported by the fact that, in so exact a science as cytology, but little definite can be said. Thus, Professor E. B. Wilson, on p. 434 of his work The Cell, says: "The study of the cell has, on the whole, seemed to widen rather than to narrow the enormous gap that separates even the lowest forms of life from the inorganic world." It will thus be seen that the uncertain and unsatisfactory condition of psychics is shared also by other branches of scientific investigation, and it is as yet too soon to say whether or not the ultimate verdict will swing in this direction or in that. We can only hope, and continue to experiment!
5. Psychical research, therefore, may continue to progress, in spite of the innate difficulties and the obstacles with which the subject is surrounded. It is our duty to see that it does! For it is certain that the subject will receive serious set-backs, from time to time, in the shape of unjust misrepresentations or bitter attacks from the outsiders, determined to "prove a case," even if the cause of truth be abandoned in order to do so. Take, e.g., the recent volume of Dr. Tanner and Dr. G. Stanley Hall (Studies in Spiritism). They received certain "lying communications," in spite of Professor William James' warning that "the personalities are very suggestible" and that "every one is liable to get back from the trance very much what he puts into it." Even Deleuze could have told Drs. Tanner and Hall this fact—having ascertained it nearly a hundred years before (1813); for he wrote in his Critical History of Animal Magnetism (pp. 134–5), in reply to those who would question the somnambulist upon points of practical advantage:
"You will gain nothing; you will even lose the advantages which you might derive from his lucidity. It is very possible that you could make him speak upon all the subjects of your indiscreet curiosity; but in that case, as I have already warned you, you will make him leave his own sphere and introduce him into yours. He will no longer have any other resources than yourself. He will utter you very eloquent discourses, but they will no more be dictated by the internal inspirations. They will be the product of his recollections or of his imagination; perhaps you will also rouse his vanity, and then all is lost; he will not re-enter the circle from which he has wandered. … The two states cannot be confounded. … These somnambulists are evidently influenced by the persons who surround them, by the circumstances in which they are placed."
And Dr. A. E. Fletcher, in The Other World and This, says:
"Trance mediums, more than any others, are the victims of the embodied and the disembodied. If the medium is subject to the influence of a spirit, how much more likely is he to be affected by the character of those around him! Strong minds in the body may take control of his brain, instead of spirit intelligences. Such persons must be of a highly sensitive order, and cannot come under the same line of human criticism and judgment as might be applied to those in everyday life."
Even Maudsley, in his Pathology of Mind (p. 77), says:
"The main feature which the abnormal states (trance, etc.) present in common are: first, that coincident with a partial mental activity there is more or less inhibition, which may be complete, of all other mental action; secondly, that the individual in such condition of limited mental activity is susceptible only to impressions which are in relation with his character and are consequently assimilated by it. … "[1]
These passages illustrate, at least, the delicate and often-times suggestible nature of the trance; and how inconclusive, to say the least, are such experiments as those of Drs. Tanner and Hall!
6. On the other hand, it may be asked: If the messages we receive at séances really do come from the departed, why should they be so fleeting and so uncertain as they are? And why should not many more messages be received from the hundreds and thousands who die yearly, and who are doubtless longing to communicate?
Answers to these questions are manifold. In the first place, it may be pointed out that the ability to communicate may be rare indeed, and not a universal possibility, as is generally supposed. As Dr. Hodgson expressed it (Proceedings, xiii., p. 362): "It may be a completely erroneous assumption that all persons, young or old, good or evil, vigorous or sickly, and whatever their lives or deaths may have been, are at all comparable with one another in their capacity to convey clear statements from the other world to this." Further, it must not be supposed that all "messages" received by mediums (even granting their complete honesty) really issue from the "Great Beyond." Many mediums simply tell their sitters the ideas, impressions, and "messages" which come into their minds, and which they believe to come from external sources, i.e., "spirits," but which, as a matter of fact, issue from their own subconsciousness.