MESMERIC REVELATION
WHATEVER doubt may still envelop the _rationale_ of mesmerism,its startling _facts_ are now almost universally admitted. Of theselatter, those who doubt, are your mere doubters by profession--anunprofitable and disreputable tribe. There can be no more absolute wasteof time than the attempt to _prove_, at the present day, that man, bymere exercise of will, can so impress his fellow, as to cast him into anabnormal condition, of which the phenomena resemble very closely thoseof _death_, or at least resemble them more nearly than they do thephenomena of any other normal condition within our cognizance; that,while in this state, the person so impressed employs only with effort,and then feebly, the external organs of sense, yet perceives, withkeenly refined perception, and through channels supposed unknown,matters beyond the scope of the physical organs; that, moreover, hisintellectual faculties are wonderfully exalted and invigorated; that hissympathies with the person so impressing him are profound; and, finally,that his susceptibility to the impression increases with its frequency,while, in the same proportion, the peculiar phenomena elicited are moreextended and more _pronounced_.
I say that these--which are the laws of mesmerism in itsgeneral features--it would be supererogation to demonstrate; nor shall Iinflict upon my readers so needless a demonstration; to-day. My purposeat present is a very different one indeed. I am impelled, even inthe teeth of a world of prejudice, to detail without comment the veryremarkable substance of a colloquy, occurring between a sleep-waker andmyself.
I had been long in the habit of mesmerizing the person inquestion, (Mr. Vankirk,) and the usual acute susceptibility andexaltation of the mesmeric perception had supervened. For many months hehad been laboring under confirmed phthisis, the more distressing effectsof which had been relieved by my manipulations; and on the night ofWednesday, the fifteenth instant, I was summoned to his bedside.
The invalid was suffering with acute pain in the region of theheart, and breathed with great difficulty, having all the ordinarysymptoms of asthma. In spasms such as these he had usually found relieffrom the application of mustard to the nervous centres, but to-nightthis had been attempted in vain.
As I entered his room he greeted me with a cheerful smile, andalthough evidently in much bodily pain, appeared to be, mentally, quiteat ease.
I sent for you to-night, he said, not so much to administerto my bodily ailment, as to satisfy me concerning certain psychalimpressions which, of late, have occasioned me much anxiety andsurprise. I need not tell you how sceptical I have hitherto been on thetopic of the soul's immortality. I cannot deny that there has alwaysexisted, as if in that very soul which I have been denying, a vaguehalf-sentiment of its own existence. But this half-sentiment at notime amounted to conviction. With it my reason had nothing to do.All attempts at logical inquiry resulted, indeed, in leaving me moresceptical than before. I had been advised to study Cousin. I studiedhim in his own works as well as in those of his European and Americanechoes. The 'Charles Elwood' of Mr. Brownson, for example, was placedin my hands. I read it with profound attention. Throughout I found itlogical, but the portions which were not _merely_ logical were unhappilythe initial arguments of the disbelieving hero of the book. In hissumming up it seemed evident to me that the reasoner had not evensucceeded in convincing himself. His end had plainly forgotten hisbeginning, like the government of Trinculo. In short, I was not long inperceiving that if man is to be intellectually convinced of his ownimmortality, he will never be so convinced by the mere abstractionswhich have been so long the fashion of the moralists of England, ofFrance, and of Germany. Abstractions may amuse and exercise, but take nohold on the mind. Here upon earth, at least, philosophy, I am persuaded,will always in vain call upon us to look upon qualities as things. Thewill may assent--the soul--the intellect, never.
I repeat, then, that I only half felt, and never intellectuallybelieved. But latterly there has been a certain deepening of thefeeling, until it has come so nearly to resemble the acquiescence ofreason, that I find it difficult to distinguish between the two. I amenabled, too, plainly to trace this effect to the mesmeric influence.I cannot better explain my meaning than by the hypothesis that themesmeric exaltation enables me to perceive a train of ratiocinationwhich, in my abnormal existence, convinces, but which, in fullaccordance with the mesmeric phenomena, does not extend, except throughits _effect_, into my normal condition. In sleep-waking, the reasoningand its conclusion--the cause and its effect--are present together. Inmy natural state, the cause vanishing, the effect only, and perhaps onlypartially, remains.
These considerations have led me to think that some goodresults might ensue from a series of well-directed questionspropounded to me while mesmerized. You have often observed the profoundself-cognizance evinced by the sleep-waker--the extensive knowledge hedisplays upon all points relating to the mesmeric condition itself; andfrom this self-cognizance may be deduced hints for the proper conduct ofa catechism.
I consented of course to make this experiment. A few passesthrew Mr. Vankirk into the mesmeric sleep. His breathing becameimmediately more easy, and he seemed to suffer no physical uneasiness.The following conversation then ensued:--V. in the dialogue representingthe patient, and P. myself.
_ P._ Are you asleep?
_ V._ Yes--no I would rather sleep more soundly.
_P._ [_After a few more passes._] Do you sleep now?
_V._ Yes.
_P._ How do you think your present illness will result?
_V._ [_After a long hesitation and speaking as if with effort_.] I mustdie.
_P._ Does the idea of death afflict you?
_V._ [_Very quickly_.] No--no!
_P._ Are you pleased with the prospect?
_V._ If I were awake I should like to die, but now it is no matter. Themesmeric condition is so near death as to content me.
_P._ I wish you would explain yourself, Mr. Vankirk.
_V._ I am willing to do so, but it requires more effort than I feel ableto make. You do not question me properly.
_P._ What then shall I ask?
_V._ You must begin at the beginning.
_P._ The beginning! but where is the beginning?
_V._ You know that the beginning is GOD. [_This was said in a low,fluctuating tone, and with every sign of the most profound veneration_.]
_P._ What then is God?
_V._ [_Hesitating for many minutes._] I cannot tell.
_P._ Is not God spirit?
_V._ While I was awake I knew what you meant by spirit, but now itseems only a word--such for instance as truth, beauty--a quality, Imean.
_P._ Is not God immaterial?
_V._ There is no immateriality--it is a mere word. That which is notmatter, is not at all--unless qualities are things.
_P._ Is God, then, material?
_V._ No. [_This reply startled me very much._]
_P._ What then is he?
_V._ [_After a long pause, and mutteringly._] I see--but it is a thingdifficult to tell. [_Another long pause._] He is not spirit, forhe exists. Nor is he matter, as _you understand it_. But there are_gradations_ of matter of which man knows nothing; the grosser impellingthe finer, the finer pervading the grosser. The atmosphere, for example,impels the electric principle, while the electric principle permeatesthe atmosphere. These gradations of matter increase in rarityor fineness, until we arrive at a matter _unparticled_--withoutparticles--indivisible--_one_ and here the law of impulsion andpermeation is modified. The ultimate, or unparticled matter, not onlypermeates all things but impels all things--and thus _is_ all thingswithin itself. This matter is God. What men attempt to embody in theword thought, is this matter in motion.
_P._ The metaphysicians maintain that all action is reducible to motionand thinking, and that the latter is the origin of the former.
_V._ Yes; and I now see the confusion of idea. Motion is the actionof _mind_--not of _thinking_. The unparticled matter, or God, inquiescence, is (as nearly as we can conceive it) what men call mind. Andthe power of self-movement (equivalent in effect to human volition) is,in the unparticled matter, the result of its unity and omniprevalence;_how_ I know not, and now clearly see that I shall never know. But theunparticled matter, set in motion by a law, or quality, existing withinitself, is thinking.
_P._ Can you give me no more precise idea of what you term theunparticled matter?
_V._ The matters of which man is cognizant, escape the senses ingradation. We have, for example, a metal, a piece of wood, a drop ofwater, the atmosphere, a gas, caloric, electricity, the luminiferousether. Now we call all these things matter, and embrace all matter inone general definition; but in spite of this, there can be no two ideasmore essentially distinct than that which we attach to a metal, and thatwhich we attach to the luminiferous ether. When we reach the latter, wefeel an almost irresistible inclination to class it with spirit, or withnihility. The only consideration which restrains us is our conceptionof its atomic constitution; and here, even, we have to seek aid fromour notion of an atom, as something possessing in infinite minuteness,solidity, palpability, weight. Destroy the idea of the atomicconstitution and we should no longer be able to regard the ether as anentity, or at least as matter. For want of a better word we might termit spirit. Take, now, a step beyond the luminiferous ether--conceive amatter as much more rare than the ether, as this ether is more rare thanthe metal, and we arrive at once (in spite of all the school dogmas) ata unique mass--an unparticled matter. For although we may admit infinitelittleness in the atoms themselves, the infinitude of littleness in thespaces between them is an absurdity. There will be a point--there willbe a degree of rarity, at which, if the atoms are sufficiently numerous,the interspaces must vanish, and the mass absolutely coalesce. Butthe consideration of the atomic constitution being now taken away, thenature of the mass inevitably glides into what we conceive of spirit. Itis clear, however, that it is as fully matter as before. The truth is,it is impossible to conceive spirit, since it is impossible toimagine what is not. When we flatter ourselves that we have formedits conception, we have merely deceived our understanding by theconsideration of infinitely rarified matter.
_P._ There seems to me an insurmountable objection to the ideaof absolute coalescence;--and that is the very slight resistanceexperienced by the heavenly bodies in their revolutions through space--aresistance now ascertained, it is true, to exist in _some_ degree, butwhich is, nevertheless, so slight as to have been quite overlooked bythe sagacity even of Newton. We know that the resistance of bodiesis, chiefly, in proportion to their density. Absolute coalescenceis absolute density. Where there are no interspaces, there can be noyielding. An ether, absolutely dense, would put an infinitely moreeffectual stop to the progress of a star than would an ether of adamantor of iron.
_V._ Your objection is answered with an ease which is nearly in theratio of its apparent unanswerability.--As regards the progress of thestar, it can make no difference whether the star passes through theether _or the ether through it_. There is no astronomical error moreunaccountable than that which reconciles the known retardation of thecomets with the idea of their passage through an ether: for, howeverrare this ether be supposed, it would put a stop to all siderealrevolution in a very far briefer period than has been admitted by thoseastronomers who have endeavored to slur over a point which they foundit impossible to comprehend. The retardation actually experienced is, onthe other hand, about that which might be expected from the _friction_of the ether in the instantaneous passage through the orb. In the onecase, the retarding force is momentary and complete within itself--inthe other it is endlessly accumulative.
_P._ But in all this--in this identification of mere matter with God--isthere nothing of irreverence? [_I was forced to repeat this questionbefore the sleep-waker fully comprehended my meaning_.]
_V._ Can you say _why_ matter should be less reverenced than mind? Butyou forget that the matter of which I speak is, in all respects, thevery mind or spirit of the schools, so far as regards its highcapacities, and is, moreover, the matter of these schools at thesame time. God, with all the powers attributed to spirit, is but theperfection of matter.
_P._ You assert, then, that the unparticled matter, in motion, isthought?
_V._ In general, this motion is the universal thought of the universalmind. This thought creates. All created things are but the thoughts ofGod.
_P._ You say, in general.
_V._ Yes. The universal mind is God. For new individualities, _matter_is necessary.
_P._ But you now speak of mind and matter as do the metaphysicians.
_V._ Yes--to avoid confusion. When I say mind, I mean the unparticledor ultimate matter; by matter, I intend all else.
_P._ You were saying that for new individualities matter is necessary.
_V._ Yes; for mind, existing unincorporate, is merely God. To createindividual, thinking beings, it was necessary to incarnate portionsof the divine mind. Thus man is individualized. Divested of corporateinvestiture, he were God. Now, the particular motion of the incarnatedportions of the unparticled matter is the thought of man; as the motionof the whole is that of God.
_P._ You say that divested of the body man will be God?
_V._ [_After much hesitation._] I could not have said this; it is anabsurdity.
_P._ [_Referring to my notes._] You _did_ say that divested ofcorporate investiture man were God.
_V._ And this is true. Man thus divested _would be_ God--would beunindividualized. But he can never be thus divested--at least never_will be_--else we must imagine an action of God returning uponitself--a purposeless and futile action. Man is a creature. Creaturesare thoughts of God. It is the nature of thought to be irrevocable.
_P._ I do not comprehend. You say that man will never put off the body?
_V._ I say that he will never be bodiless.
_P._ Explain.
_V._ There are two bodies--the rudimental and the complete;corresponding with the two conditions of the worm and the butterfly.What we call death, is but the painful metamorphosis. Our presentincarnation is progressive, preparatory, temporary. Our future isperfected, ultimate, immortal. The ultimate life is the full design.
_P._ But of the worm's metamorphosis we are palpably cognizant.
_V._ _We_, certainly--but not the worm. The matter of which ourrudimental body is composed, is within the ken of the organs of thatbody; or, more distinctly, our rudimental organs are adapted to thematter of which is formed the rudimental body; but not to that of whichthe ultimate is composed. The ultimate body thus escapes our rudimentalsenses, and we perceive only the shell which falls, in decaying, fromthe inner form; not that inner form itself; but this inner form, aswell as the shell, is appreciable by those who have already acquired theultimate life.
_P._ You have often said that the mesmeric state very nearly resemblesdeath. How is this?
_V._ When I say that it resembles death, I mean that it resembles theultimate life; for when I am entranced the senses of my rudimentallife are in abeyance, and I perceive external things directly,without organs, through a medium which I shall employ in the ultimate,unorganized life.
_P._ Unorganized?
_V._ Yes; organs are contrivances by which the individual is broughtinto sensible relation with particular classes and forms of matter, tothe exclusion of other classes and forms. The organs of man are adaptedto his rudimental condition, and to that only; his ultimate condition,being unorganized, is of unlimited comprehension in all points butone--the nature of the volition of God--that is to say, the motion ofthe unparticled matter. You will have a distinct idea of the ultimatebody by conceiving it to be entire brain. This it is _not_; but aconception of this nature will bring you near a comprehension of what it_is_. A luminous body imparts vibration to the luminiferous ether.The vibrations generate similar ones within the retina; these againcommunicate similar ones to the optic nerve. The nerve conveys similarones to the brain; the brain, also, similar ones to the unparticledmatter which permeates it. The motion of this latter is thought, ofwhich perception is the first undulation. This is the mode by which themind of the rudimental life communicates with the external world; andthis external world is, to the rudimental life, limited, through theidiosyncrasy of its organs. But in the ultimate, unorganized life, theexternal world reaches the whole body, (which is of a substance havingaffinity to brain, as I have said,) with no other intervention than thatof an infinitely rarer ether than even the luminiferous; and to thisether--in unison with it--the whole body vibrates, setting in motionthe unparticled matter which permeates it. It is to the absence ofidiosyncratic organs, therefore, that we must attribute the nearlyunlimited perception of the ultimate life. To rudimental beings, organsare the cages necessary to confine them until fledged.
_P._ You speak of rudimental beings. Are there other rudimentalthinking beings than man?
_V._ The multitudinous conglomeration of rare matter into nebulae,planets, suns, and other bodies which are neither nebulae, suns,nor planets, is for the sole purpose of supplying _pabulum_ for theidiosyncrasy of the organs of an infinity of rudimental beings. But forthe necessity of the rudimental, prior to the ultimate life, therewould have been no bodies such as these. Each of these is tenanted by adistinct variety of organic, rudimental, thinking creatures. In all,the organs vary with the features of the place tenanted. At death,or metamorphosis, these creatures, enjoying the ultimatelife--immortality--and cognizant of all secrets but _the one_, act allthings and pass everywhere by mere volition:--indwelling, not the stars,which to us seem the sole palpabilities, and for the accommodationof which we blindly deem space created--but that SPACE itself--thatinfinity of which the truly substantive vastness swallows up thestar-shadows--blotting them out as non-entities from the perception ofthe angels.
_P._ You say that but for the _necessity_ of the rudimental life therewould have been no stars. But why this necessity?
_V._ In the inorganic life, as well as in the inorganic mattergenerally, there is nothing to impede the action of one simple _unique_law--the Divine Volition. With the view of producing impediment, theorganic life and matter, (complex, substantial, and law-encumbered,)were contrived.
_P._ But again--why need this impediment have been produced?
_V._ The result of law inviolate is perfection--right--negativehappiness. The result of law violate is imperfection, wrong, positivepain. Through the impediments afforded by the number, complexity, andsubstantiality of the laws of organic life and matter, the violation oflaw is rendered, to a certain extent, practicable. Thus pain, which inthe inorganic life is impossible, is possible in the organic.
_P._ But to what good end is pain thus rendered possible?
_V._ All things are either good or bad by comparison. A sufficientanalysis will show that pleasure, in all cases, is but the contrast ofpain. _Positive_ pleasure is a mere idea. To be happy at any one pointwe must have suffered at the same. Never to suffer would have been neverto have been blessed. But it has been shown that, in the inorganiclife, pain cannot be thus the necessity for the organic. The pain of theprimitive life of Earth, is the sole basis of the bliss of the ultimatelife in Heaven.
_P._ Still, there is one of your expressions which I find it impossibleto comprehend--the truly _substantive_ vastness of infinity.
_V._ This, probably, is because you have no sufficiently genericconception of the term _substance_ itself. We must not regard it as aquality, but as a sentiment:--it is the perception, in thinking beings,of the adaptation of matter to their organization. There are many thingson the Earth, which would be nihility to the inhabitants of Venus--manythings visible and tangible in Venus, which we could not be broughtto appreciate as existing at all. But to the inorganic beings--to theangels--the whole of the unparticled matter is substance--that isto say, the whole of what we term space is to them the truestsubstantiality;--the stars, meantime, through what we consider theirmateriality, escaping the angelic sense, just in proportion as theunparticled matter, through what we consider its immateriality, eludesthe organic.
As the sleep-waker pronounced these latter words, in a feeble tone,I observed on his countenance a singular expression, which somewhatalarmed me, and induced me to awake him at once. No sooner had I donethis, than, with a bright smile irradiating all his features, he fellback upon his pillow and expired. I noticed that in less than a minuteafterward his corpse had all the stern rigidity of stone. His brow wasof the coldness of ice. Thus, ordinarily, should it have appeared, onlyafter long pressure from Azrael's hand. Had the sleep-waker, indeed,during the latter portion of his discourse, been addressing me from outthe region of the shadows?