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THE PHENOMENA we are about to discuss in the present volume are characterized by
many sceptics as a "recrudescence of superstition" (see Nature, vol. 51,
p. 122), and on the other hand by many believers as "evidence of the
supernatural." The average busy man, who has no time for critical inquiry,
probably thinks that there is a good deal of truth in both these statements, and
therefore prefers to give the whole subject a wide berth. But the scornful
disdain of the savant and the credulous belief of the ignorant are now
giving way to a more rational attitude of mind. A widespread desire exists to
know something about that debatable borderland between the territory already
conquered by science and the dark realms of ignorance and superstition; and to
learn what trustworthy evidence exists on behalf of a large class of obscure
psychical phenomena, the importance of which it is impossible to exaggerate if
the alleged facts be incontestably established. To satisfy that desire, in some
slight and imperfect way, is the object of this little book.
The subjects to be considered cover a wide range, from unconscious muscular
action to the mysterious operation of our subconscious self; from
telepathy to apparitions at the moment of death; from hypnotism and
the therapeutic effects of suggestion to crystal-gazing and the emergence of
hidden human faculties; from clairvoyance, or the alleged perception of
objects without the use of the ordinary channels of sense, to dowsing, or
the finding of underground water and metallic lodes with the so-called divining
rod; from the reputed hauntings of certain places to the mischievous
pranks of poltergeists (or boisterous but harmless ghosts whose asserted
freaks may have given rise both to fetishism and fairies); from the
inexplicable sounds and movement of objects without assignable cause to the
thaumaturgy of the spiritualistic séance; from the scribbling of planchette
and automatic writing generally to the alleged operation of unseen and
intelligent agents and the possibility of experimental evidence of human
survival after death.
These phenomena, even if only a fraction of what is asserted by credible
witnesses be true, open a new and vastly important chapter in the book of human
knowledge. If established, they reveal a wide and wonderful extension of human
faculty, and give us a glimpse of the abysses of human personality, of depths
that transcend time and sense and outward things, teaching us that "nature is
not a soulless interaction of atoms, nor life a paltry misery closed in the
grave."
But here we are met, on the one side, with the objection of many religious
people, that these phenomena belong to the region of the supernatural,
and therefore their investigation is a hopeless, if it be not an impious, quest;
and on the other side with the complacent contempt of the superior person, who
dismisses the whole matter with a shrug as pure superstition. Therefore, before
discussing the evidence on behalf of these obscure phenomena, let us ask if
there be any valid reason for describing them as either supernatural or
superstitious.
In the childhood of the race every rare or inexplicable event, whether in the
heavens or on the earth, was regarded as supernatural. Eclipses, comets,
meteorites, and other unusual meteorological phenomena, were a supernatural
portent or the direct interposition of the Deity. But the progress of knowledge
has shown that these and all other phenomena - however mysterious and at present
inexplicable they may be - are part of the order of nature, are natural and not
supernatural. Even a couple of centuries ago, many of the marvels of modern
scientific discovery would have been classed as supernatural. To know what was
happening less than an hour ago at the Antipodes, or to listen to the voice of,
and interchange conversation with, friends in different countries - the commonplace of the telegraph and telephone today
- not to mention the transmission of wireless messages across the Atlantic and
the instantaneous photographic record and reproduction of rapidly moving
objects, all these would have been thought impossible or miraculous.
The religious mind is ever apt to forget what Bishop Butler pointed out in the
first chapter of his Analogy, that our notion of what is natural grows
with our greater knowledge, so that to beings of more extensive knowledge than
ourselves "the whole Christian dispensation may to them appear natural, as
natural as the visible known course of things appears to us." Miracles, as most
theologians, from St. Augustine onwards, have said, do not happen in
contradiction to nature, they are not supernatural events, but only
transcend what is at present known to us of nature. We cannot pretend to
determine the boundary between the natural and the supernatural until the whole
of nature is open to our knowledge. If at any point scientific investigation
finds a limit, what is beyond is only a part of nature yet unknown. So that,
however marvellous and inexplicable certain phenomena may be, we feel assured
that sooner or later they will receive their explanation, and be embraced within
some part of the wide domain of science.
Nor can we restrict these considerations to the visible universe. The vast
procession of phenomena that constitute the order of nature do not come to an
abrupt conclusion when they can no longer be apprehended by our present organs
of sense. Science already takes cognizance of the imperceptible, imponderable,
and infinitely rare luminiferous ether, an unseen form of matter wholly
different from anything known to our senses, the very existence of which indeed
is only known inferentially. As an eminent scientific writer has said: "In
earlier times the suggestion of such a medium would probably have been looked
upon as strong evidence of insanity." The law of continuity leads us to believe
that whatever unknown and perplexing phenomena may confront us, in the seen or
in the unseen universe, in this world or in any other, we shall never reach the
limit of the natural, and never be put to intellectual confusion by the
discovery of a chaos instead of a cosmos. At the centre and
throughout every part of this ever expanding and limitless sphere of nature
there remains - enshrouded from the gaze of science - the Ineffable and Supreme
Thought which alone can be termed Supernatural. For the very term phenomenon,
which is only the Greek word for appearance, means something brought within the
cognizance of the senses and of the reason, thereby it ceases to be supernatural
and becomes another aspect of the creative thought of God. Hence the
supernatural can never be a matter of observation or scientific inquiry; the
Divine Being alone can transcend His handiwork.
To talk, therefore, of apparitions and spiritualistic phenomena, etc., as
supernatural is obviously incorrect. Even if established they would not lie
beyond nor outside nature, but merely beyond our ordinary normal experience.
They are, in fine, supernormal phenomena, and that word, first suggested
by Mr. F. W. H. Myers, will be used throughout this book to denote the objects
of psychical research.
Then arises the question, is it worth while to spend time on subjects which the
scientific world has until lately regarded as relies of superstition, and which
are still so regarded by many? It is true that there is now a growing and marked
change of opinion in this respect among many of the foremost men of science in
every civilized country. But official science as a body still looks askance at
psychical research and speaks of its adherents as more or less credulous and
superstitious. What is meant by superstition? Etymologically it means the
standing over an occurrence, in amazement or awe; shutting out the light of
inquiry and reason. Where this light enters a mystery is no longer enshrouded by
helplessly standing over it, but we begin to understand it. Superstition is,
therefore, the antithesis of understanding, and of that faith in the
intelligibility of nature which forms the foundation of science and the hope of
all intellectual progress.
In a lecture on Science and Superstition which the writer heard the Rev. Charles
Kingsley deliver at the Royal Institution in London in 1866, and which was
published in Fraser's Magazine for June and July, 1866, superstition was
defined as "fear of the unknown." This is the frequent accompaniment of
superstition, but the ancient Greek, "who believed that every tree or stream or
glen had its nymph, whose kindly office men might secure by paying them certain
honours," was a superstitious man, though he did not in this case exhibit fear
of the unknown. Superstition may be more accurately defined as a belief not
in accordance with facts, where no connection exists between the cause ascribed
and the effect imagined, and issues in superstitious practices when such a
belief is regarded as affording help or injury. Some trivial occurrence may
once have been followed by disaster, and forthwith it becomes an omen! Thus a
chance coincidence is to the superstitious a law of nature. Not only amid the
culture of ancient Greece and Rome, but right down the ages to the present time,
we find this irrational habit of mind. Nor is it confined to the credulous and
the ignorant. Voltaire went home out of humour when he heard a raven croak on
his left. Many gallant officers and clever women dread to sit down thirteen to
dinner, just as the peasant dreads to hear the screech owl. Omens and portents
are still as rife throughout India as in ancient Rome. Superstition is the arrest
of reason and inquiry, an ignoble and groundless belief. But in every case where
science comes in at the door superstition flies out of the window. And so to-day
if we wish to rid ourselves of the many silly and mischievous superstitions
which abound in our midst, we must bring to bear upon them the "dry and clear
light" of science.
How, then, can the scientific investigation of psychical phenomena be regarded
as superstitious folly? Difference of opinion may exist as to the interpretation
of the phenomena or as to the weight of evidence required to establish a
definite conclusion. But no one disputes the need of inquiry, nor that numerous
painstaking and competent investigators have been convinced of the genuineness
of many of the phenomena we shall describe and the vast importance of the issues
they foreshadow. This being so, the charge of superstition rests upon those
whose scornful and irrational habit of mind leads them to a belief not in
accordance with facts, and to a practice of rejecting the weightiest evidence
and accepting the flimsiest - just as it suits their preconceived notions of the
possible and the impossible. These are the superstitious.
There remains a more common form of disbelief in psychical phenomena, based upon
the fact that they have not been witnessed by the objector and cannot be
reproduced at will to convince him. Neither have many of us witnessed the fall
of meteoric stones to the earth, yet we believe in their existence in spite of
the impossibility of their reproduction at our pleasure. The reason why we
believe is, of course, the testimony of many trustworthy witnesses to whom we
have given attention. In fact there are some phenomena in physical science which
are as rare, elusive and inexplicable as those in psychical research. That
strange phenomenon, to which the name of fire-ball or globe lightning has been
given, is an example. "As we have hitherto been unable to reproduce a fire-ball,
by our most powerful electrical machines, some philosophers have denied that any
such thin can exist! But as Arago says: 'Where should we be if we set ourselves
to deny everything we do not know how to explain? The amount of trustworthy and
independent evidence which we possess as to the occurrence of this phenomenon is
such as must convince every reasonable man who chooses to pay due attention
to the subject. No doubt there is a great deal of exaggeration, as well as
much imperfect and erroneous observation, in almost all these records. But the
existence of the main feature (the fire-ball) seems to be proved beyond all
doubt." These are the words of that eminent and genuine scientific man, the late
Professor Tait, and the words I have italicized are equally true of the
principal phenomena of psychical research. There has been, no doubt, much
"exaggeration and erroneous observation" in connection with this subject, but
this can also be said of the early stages of other new and striking additions to
our knowledge.
The fact is, our reason leads us to be instinctively hostile to the reception of
any evidence which cannot be readily fitted into the structure of existing
knowledge. We are all apt to overlook the difference between evidence which
involves only a wide extension of our knowledge and evidence which
involves a flat contradiction of well-established laws, such as the law
of the conservation of energy. If telepathy, clairvoyance or even the existence
of discarnate personalities be experimentally established, a vast extension, but
surely no contradiction, of our present knowledge would be involved. Moreover,
an entirely new discovery, such, for example, as the properties of radium, could
never be accepted if, adopting Hume's argument against miracles, we refused to
credit it on account of our previous experience having been uniformly opposed to
it.
Perhaps, however, the chief obstacle to the general recognition of psychical
phenomena is to be found in our disinclination to accept in this region, the
experience and testimony of other observers, however eminent and competent they
may be. The splendid and startling discoveries made by Sir
William Crookes in
physical science were universally received with respect and belief, but his
equally careful investigation of psychical phenomena were dismissed by most
scientific men as unworthy of serious attention. It is true the former were
more, and the latter less, accessible to experimental verification; but one
would have thought that at least suspense of judgment, awaiting confirmatory
evidence, and not scornful contempt, would have been a truer scientific
attitude.
Certainly the treatment of hypnotism and of its courageous pioneers by the
medical profession, down to a comparatively recent period, is a warning of the
grotesque follies into which science may fall when it rests its opposition to
any new departure not upon evidence, but upon prejudice and negation.
Unfortunately, science has been too often the friend of systematic negation.
Facts, as the late Professor William James has remarked, "are denied until a welcome
interpretation is offered, then they are admitted readily enough." No one is
omniscient, and of late we have had to accept so many things once deemed
impossible that we ought by this time to have learnt the axiom of that
distinguished philosopher, Sir John Herschel, who tells us "the natural
philosopher should believe all things not improbable, hope all things not
impossible."
Source:
The
article above was taken from William Barrett's "Psychical Research"
(London: Williams & Norgate, 1911).
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