The main purpose of our existence on earth—aside from the
sacred and paramount duty of securing our salvation—is undoubtedly
to make ourselves masters of the tangible world around us, as it
stands revealed to our senses, and as it was expressly made subject
to our will by the Creator. We are, however, at the same time, not
left without information about the existence of certain laws and
the occurrence of certain phenomena, which belong to a world not
accessible to us by means of our ordinary senses, and which yet
affect seriously our intercourse with Nature and our personal
welfare. This knowledge we obtain sometimes, by special favor, as
direct revelation, and at other times, for reasons as yet unknown,
at the expense of our health and much suffering. By whatever means
it may reach us, it cannot be rejected; to treat it with ridicule
or to decline examining it, would be as unwise as unprofitable. The
least that we can do is to ascertain the precise nature of these
laws, and, after stripping these phenomena of all that can be
proved to be merely incidental or delusive, to compare them with
each other, and to arrange them carefully according to some
standard of classification. The main interest in such a task lies
in the discovery of the grain of truth which is often found
concealed in a mass of rubbish, and which, when thus brought to
light, serves to enlarge our knowledge and to increase our power.
The difficulty lies in the absence of all scientific investigation,
and in the innate tendency of man to give way, wantonly or
unconsciously, to mental as well as to sensual
delusion.
The aim of this little work is, therefore, limited to the
gathering of such facts and phenomena as may serve to throw light
upon the nature of the magic powers with which man is undoubtedly
endowed. Its end will be attained if it succeeds in showing that he
actually does possess powers which are not subject to the general
laws of nature, but more or less independent of space and time, and
which yet make themselves known partly by appeals to the ordinary
senses and partly by peculiar phenomena, the result of their
activity. These higher powers, operating exclusively through the
spirit of man, are part of his nature, which has much in common
with that of the Deity, since he was created by God "in His own
image," and the Lord "breathed into his nostrils the breath of life
and man became a living soul ."
This soul is not, as materialists maintain, merely the sum of all
perceptions obtained by the collective activity of bodily organs—a
conclusion which would finally make it the product of mere material
atoms, subject to constant physical and chemical changes. Even if
it were possible—which we deny—to reduce our whole inner life,
including memory, imagination, and reason, to a system of purely
physical laws, and thus to admit its destruction at the moment of
death, there would still remain the living
soul , coming directly from the Most High, and
destined to continue throughout eternity. This soul is, hence,
independent of time. Nor is it bound by space, except so far as it
can commune with the outer world only by means of the body, with
which it is united in this life. The nature of this union is a
mystery as yet unfathomed, but precisely because it is such a
mystery, we have no right to assume that it is altogether
indissoluble during life; or, that it ceases entirely at the moment
of death. There is, on the contrary, overwhelming evidence that the
soul may, at times, act independently of the body, and the forces
developed on such occasions we have, for the sake of convenience
rather than on account of the special fitness of the term,
preferred to call magic
powers.
There is no evidence whatever before us as to the mutual
relations of soul and body after death. Here, necessarily, all must
be mere speculation. Nothing more, therefore, will be claimed for
the following suggestions. When the body becomes unfit to serve any
longer as an abode and an instrument to the soul, the tie which was
formed before or at the moment of birth is gradually loosened. The
soul no longer receives impressions from the outer world such as
the body heretofore conveyed to it, and with this cessation of
mutual action ends, also, the community of sensation. The living
soul—in all probability—becomes conscious of its separation from
the dead body and from the world; it continues to exist, but in
loneliness and self-dependence. Its life, however, becomes only the
more active and the more self-conscious as it is no longer consumed
by intercourse with the world, nor disturbed by bodily disorders
and infirmities. The soul recalls with ease all long-forgotten or
much-dimmed sensations. What it feels most deeply at first is, we
may presume, the double grief at being separated from the body,
with which it has so long been closely connected, and at the sins
it has committed during life. This repentance will be naturally all
the heartier, as it is no longer interrupted by sensual
impressions. After a while this grief, like all sorrows, begins to
moderate, and the soul returns to a state of peace: sooner, of
course, in the case of persons who in their earthly life already
had secured peace by the only means revealed to man; later, by
those who had given themselves entirely up to the world and their
passions. At the same time the living soul enters into communion
with other souls, retaining, however, its individuality in sex,
character, and temper, and, possibly, proceeds on a course of
gradual purification, till it reaches the desired haven in perfect
reconciliation with God. During this intermediate time there is
nothing known to us which would absolutely forbid the idea that
these living souls continue to maintain some kind of intercourse
with the souls of men on earth, with whom they share all that
constitutes their essential nature, save only the one fact of
bondage to the body. Nor is there any reason why the soul in man
should not be able, by its higher powers, to perceive and to
consort with souls detached from mortal bodies, although this
intercourse must needs be limited and imperfect because of the vast
difference between a free soul and one bound to an earthly, sinful
body. For man, when he dies, leaves behind in this world the body,
dead and powerless, a corpse. He continues, however, to live, a
soul, with all the peculiar powers which make up our spiritual
organism; that is to say, the true man, in the higher sense of the
word, exists still, though he dwell in another world. This soul has
now no longer earthly organs of sense to do its bidding, but it
still controls nature which was made subject to its will; it has,
moreover, a new set of powers which represent in the higher world
its higher body, and the character of its new active life will be
all the more elevated, as these organs are more spiritual. Man
cannot but continue to develop, to grow, and to ripen, in the next
world as he did in this; his nature and his destiny are alike
incompatible with sudden transitions and with absolute rest. The
soul must become purer and more useful; its organs more subtle and
more powerful, and it is of this life of gradual improvement and
purification that we may occasionally obtain glimpses by that
communion which no doubt still exists between earth-bound souls and
souls freed from such bondage.
There are, it is well known, many theologians who sternly
deny any such further development of man's spiritual part, and
insist upon looking at this life as the only time of probation
accorded to him, at the end of which immediate and eternal judgment
is rendered. Their views are entitled to the utmost consideration
and respect. But different opinions are entertained by some of
their brethren, not less eminent in piety, profound learning, and
critical acumen, and hence at least equally deserving of being
attentively listened to and carefully regarded. So it is also with
the belief in the possibility of holding intercourse with
disembodied spirits. Superficial observers are ready to doubt or to
deny, to sneer haughtily, or to scoff contemptuously. But men of
great eminence have, from time immemorial, treated the question
with great attention and deep interest. Melanchthon wrote: "I have
myself seen ghosts, and know many trustworthy people who affirm
that they have not only seen them, but even carried on
conversations with them" (De Anima Recogn.: Wittemb. 1595, p. 317),
and Luther said nearly the same; Calvin and Knox also expressed
similar convictions. A faith which has lasted through all ages of
man's history, and has such supporters, cannot but have some
foundation, and deserves full investigation. Alchemy, with its
visionary hopes, contained, nevertheless, the germ of modern
chemistry, and astrology taught already much that constitutes the
astronomy of our day. The same is, no doubt, the case with Modern
Magic, and here, also, we may safely expect to find that "out of
darkness cometh light."