5. IS IT THE SECOND DAWN?
There are many incidents in the New Testament which might be
taken as starting points in tracing a close analogy between the
phenomenal events which are associated with the early days of
Christianity, and those which have perplexed the world in
connection with modern Spiritualism. Most of us are prepared to
admit that the lasting claims of Christianity upon the human race
are due to its own intrinsic teachings, which are quite
independent of those wonders which can only have had a use in
startling the solid complacence of an unspiritual race, and so
directing their attention violently to this new system of
thought. Exactly the same may be said of the new revelation.
The exhibitions of a force which is beyond human experience and
human guidance is but a method of calling attention. To
repeat
a simile which has been used elsewhere, it is
the humble telephone bell which heralds the all-important
message. In the case of Christ, the Sermon on the Mount was more
than many miracles. In the case of this new development, the
messages from beyond are more than any phenomena. A vulgar mind
might make Christ's story seem vulgar, if it insisted upon loaves
of bread and the bodies of fish. So, also, a vulgar mind may
make psychic religion vulgar by insisting upon moving furniture
or tambourines in the air. In each case they are crude signs of
power, and the essence of the matter lies upon higher planes.
It is stated in the second chapter of the Acts of the
Apostles, that they, the Christian leaders, were all "with one
accord" in one place. "With one accord" expresses admirably
those sympathetic conditions which have always been found, in
psychic circles, to be conducive of the best results, and which
are so persistently ignored by a certain class of investigators.
Then there came "a mighty rushing wind," and afterwards "there
appeared cloven tongues like unto fire and it sat upon each of
them."
Here is a very definite and clear account of a
remarkable sequence of phenomena. Now, let us compare with this
the results which were obtained by Professor Crookes in his
investigation in 1873, after he had taken every possible
precaution against fraud which his experience, as an accurate
observer and experimenter, could suggest. He says in his
published notes: "I have seen luminous points of light darting
about, sitting on the heads of different persons" and then again:
"These movements, and, indeed, I may say the same of every class
of phenomena, are generally preceded by a peculiar cold air,
sometimes amounting to a decided wind. I have had sheets of
paper blown about by it. . . ." Now, is it not singular, not
merely that the phenomena should be of the same order, but that
they should come in exactly the same sequence, the wind first and
the lights afterwards? In our ignorance of etheric physics, an
ignorance which is now slowly clearing, one can only say that
there is some indication here of a general law which links those
two episodes together in spite of the nineteen centuries which
divide them. A little later, it is stated that "the
place
was shaken where they were assembled together." Many modern
observers of psychic phenomena have testified to vibration of the
walls of an apartment, as if a heavy lorry were passing. It is,
evidently, to such experiences that Paul alludes when he says:
"Our gospel came unto you not in word only, but also in power."
The preacher of the New Revelation can most truly say the same
words. In connection with the signs of the pentecost, I can most
truly say that I have myself experienced them all, the cold
sudden wind, the lambent misty flames, all under the mediumship
of Mr. Phoenix, an amateur psychic of Glasgow. The fifteen
sitters were of one accord upon that occasion, and, by a
coincidence, it was in an upper room, at the very top of the
house.
In a previous section of this essay, I have remarked that no
philosophical explanation of these phenomena, known as spiritual,
could be conceived which did not show that all, however different
in their working, came from the same central source. St. Paul
seems to state this in so many words when he says: "But all
these worketh that one
and the selfsame spirit, dividing to
every man severally as he will." Could our modern speculation,
forced upon us by the facts, be more tersely stated? He has just
enumerated the various gifts, and we find them very close to
those of which we have experience. There is first "the word of
wisdom," "the word of knowledge" and "faith." All these taken in
connection with the Spirit would seem to mean the higher
communications from the other side. Then comes healing, which is
still practised in certain conditions by a highly virile medium,
who has the power of discharging strength, losing just as much as
the weakling gains, as instanced by Christ when He said: "Who
has touched me? Much virtue" (or power) "has gone out of me."
Then we come upon the working of miracles, which we should call
the production of phenomena, and which would cover many different
types, such as apports, where objects are brought from a
distance, levitation of objects or of the human frame into the
air, the production of lights and other wonders. Then comes
prophecy, which is a real and yet a fitful and often delusive
form of medium
ship — never so delusive as among the early
Christians, who seem all to have mistaken the approaching fall of
Jerusalem and the destruction of the Temple, which they could
dimly see, as being the end of the world. This mistake is
repeated so often and so clearly that it is really not honest to
ignore or deny it. Then we come to the power of "discerning the
spirits," which corresponds to our clairvoyance, and finally that
curious and usually useless gift of tongues, which is also a
modern phenomenon. I can remember that some time ago I read the
book, "I Heard a Voice," by an eminent barrister, in which he
describes how his young daughter began to write Greek fluently
with all the complex accents in their correct places. Just after
I read it I received a letter from a no less famous physician,
who asked my opinion about one of his children who had written a
considerable amount of script in mediaeval French. These two
recent cases are beyond all doubt, but I have not had convincing
evidence of the case where some unintelligible signs drawn by an
unlettered man were pronounced by an expert to be in the Ogham or
early Celtic character. As
the Ogham script is really a
combination of straight lines, the latter case may be taken with
considerable reserve.
Thus the phenomena associated with the rise of Christianity
and those which have appeared during the present spiritual
ferment are very analogous. In examining the gifts of the
disciples, as mentioned by Matthew and Mark, the only additional
point is the raising of the dead. If any of them besides their
great leader did in truth rise to this height of power, where
life was actually extinct, then he, undoubtedly, far transcended
anything which is recorded of modern mediumship. It is clear,
however, that such a power must have been very rare, since it
would otherwise have been used to revive the bodies of their own
martyrs, which does not seem to have been attempted. For Christ
the power is clearly admitted, and there are little touches in
the description of how it was exercised by Him which are
extremely convincing to a psychic student. In the account of how
He raised Lazarus from the grave after he had been four days
dead — far the most wonderful of all Christ's miracles — it is
recorded that
as He went down to the graveside He was
"groaning." Why was He groaning? No Biblical student seems to
have given a satisfactory reason. But anyone who has heard a
medium groaning before any great manifestation of power will read
into this passage just that touch of practical knowledge, which
will convince him of its truth. The miracle, I may add, is none
the less wonderful or beyond our human powers, because it was
wrought by an extension of natural law, differing only in degree
with that which we can ourselves test and even do.
Although our modern manifestations have never attained the
power mentioned in the Biblical records, they present some
features which are not related in the New Testament.
Clairaudience, that is the hearing of a spirit voice, is common
to both, but the direct voice, that is the hearing of a voice
which all can discern with their material ears, is a well-authenticated phenomenon now which is more rarely mentioned of
old. So, too, Spirit-photography, where the camera records what
the human eye cannot see, is necessarily a new testimony.
Nothing is evidence to those who do not examine evi
dence,
but I can attest most solemnly that I personally know of several
cases where the image upon the plate after death has not only
been unmistakable, but also has differed entirely from any pre-existing photograph.
As to the methods by which the early Christians communicated
with the spirits, or with the "Saints" as they called their dead
brethren, we have, so far as I know, no record, though the words
of John: "Brothers, believe not every spirit, but try the
spirits whether they are of God," show very clearly that spirit
communion was a familiar idea, and also that they were plagued,
as we are, by the intrusion of unwelcome spiritual elements in
their intercourse. Some have conjectured that the "Angel of the
Church," who is alluded to in terms which suggest that he was a
human being, was really a medium sanctified to the use of that
particular congregation. As we have early indications of
bishops, deacons and other officials, it is difficult to say what
else the "angel" could have been. This, however, must remain a
pure speculation.
Another speculation which is, perhaps,
rather more
fruitful is upon what principle did Christ select his twelve
chief followers. Out of all the multitudes he chose twelve men.
Why these particular ones? It was not for their intelligence or
learning, for Peter and John, who were among the most prominent,
are expressly described as "unlearned and ignorant men." It was
not for their virtue, for one of them proved to be a great
villain, and all of them deserted their Master in His need. It
was not for their belief, for there were great numbers of
believers. And yet it is clear that they were chosen on some
principle of selection since they were called in ones and in
twos. In at least two cases they were pairs of brothers, as
though some family gift or peculiarity, might underlie the
choice.
Is it not at least possible that this gift was psychic power,
and that Christ, as the greatest exponent who has ever appeared
upon earth of that power, desired to surround Himself with others
who possessed it to a lesser degree? This He would do for two
reasons. The first is that a psychic circle is a great source of
strength to one who is himself psychic, as is shown continually
in our own experience, where, with a sympathetic and helpful
surrounding, an atmosphere is created where all the powers are
drawn out. How sensitive Christ was to such an atmosphere is
shown by the remark of the Evangelist, that when He visited His
own native town, where the townspeople could not take Him
seriously, He was unable to do any wonders. The second reason
may have been that He desired them to act as His deputies, either
during his lifetime or after His death, and that for this reason
some natural psychic powers were necessary.
The close connection which appears to exist between the
Apostles and the miracles, has been worked out in an interesting
fashion by Dr. Abraham Wallace, in his little pamphlet "Jesus of
Nazareth."
Certainly, no miracle or wonder working, save that
of exorcism, is recorded in any of the Evangelists until after
the time when Christ began to assemble His circle. Of this
circle the three who would appear to have been the most psychic
were Peter and the two
fellow-fishermen, sons of Zebedee,
John and James. These were the three who were summoned when an
ideal atmosphere was needed. It will be remembered that when the
daughter of Jairus was raised from the dead it was in the
presence, and possibly, with the co-operation, of these three
assistants. Again, in the case of the Transfiguration, it is
impossible to read the account of that wonderful manifestation
without being reminded at every turn of one's own spiritual
experiences. Here, again, the points are admirably made in
"Jesus of Nazareth," and it would be well if that little book,
with its scholarly tone, its breadth of treatment and its psychic
knowledge, was in the hands of every Biblical student. Dr.
Wallace points out that the place, the summit of a hill, was the
ideal one for such a manifestation, in its pure air and freedom
from interruption; that the drowsy state of the Apostles is
paralleled by the members of any circle who are contributing
psychic power; that the transfiguring of the face and the shining
raiment are known phenomena; above all, that the erection of
three altars is meaningless, but that the alternate
reading,
the erection of three booths or cabinets, one for the medium and
one for each materialised form, would absolutely fulfil the most
perfect conditions for getting results. This explanation of
Wallace's is a remarkable example of a modern brain, with modern
knowledge, throwing a clear searchlight across all the centuries
and illuminating an incident which has always been obscure.
When we translate Bible language into the terms of modern
psychic religion the correspondence becomes evident. It does not
take much alteration. Thus for "Lo, a miracle!" we say "This is
a manifestation." "The angel of the Lord" becomes "a high
spirit." Where we talked of "a voice from heaven," we say "the
direct voice." "His eyes were opened and he saw a vision" means
"he became clairvoyant." It is only the occultist who can
possibly understand the Scriptures as being a real exact record
of events.
There are many other small points which seem to bring the
story of Christ and of the Apostles into very close touch with
modern psychic research, and greatly support the
close
accuracy of some of the New Testament narrative. One which
appeals to me greatly is the action of Christ when He was asked a
question which called for a sudden decision, namely the fate of
the woman who had been taken in sin. What did He do? The very
last thing that one would have expected or invented. He stooped
down before answering and wrote with his finger in the sand.
This he did a second time upon a second catch-question being
addressed to Him. Can any theologian give a reason for such an
action? I hazard the opinion that among the many forms of
mediumship which were possessed in the highest form by Christ,
was the power of automatic writing, by which He summoned those
great forces which were under His control to supply Him with the
answer. Granting, as I freely do, that Christ was preternatural,
in the sense that He was above and beyond ordinary humanity in
His attributes, one may still inquire how far these powers were
contained always within His human body, or how far He referred
back to spiritual reserves beyond it. When He spoke merely from
His human body He was certainly
open to error, like the rest
of us, for it is recorded how He questioned the woman of Samaria
about her husband, to which she replied that she had no husband.
In the case of the woman taken in sin, one can only explain His
action by the supposition that He opened a channel instantly for
the knowledge and wisdom which was preter-human, and which at
once gave a decision in favor of large-minded charity.
It is interesting to observe the effect which these
phenomena, or the report of them, produced upon the orthodox Jews
of those days. The greater part obviously discredited them,
otherwise they could not have failed to become followers, or at
the least to have regarded such a wonder-worker with respect and
admiration. One can well imagine how they shook their bearded
heads, declared that such occurrences were outside their own
experience, and possibly pointed to the local conjuror who earned
a few not over-clean denarii by imitating the phenomena. There
were others, however, who could not possibly deny, because they
either saw or met with witnesses who had seen. These declared
roundly that the whole thing
was of the devil, drawing from
Christ one of those pithy, common-sense arguments in which He
excelled. The same two classes of opponents, the scoffers and
the diabolists, face us to-day. Verily the old world goes round
and so do the events upon its surface.
There is one line of thought which may be indicated in the
hope that it will find development from the minds and pens of
those who have studied most deeply the possibilities of psychic
power. It is at least possible, though I admit that under modern
conditions it has not been clearly proved, that a medium of great
power can charge another with his own force, just as a magnet
when rubbed upon a piece of inert steel can turn it also into a
magnet. One of the best attested powers of D. D. Home was that
he could take burning coals from the fire with impunity and carry
them in his hand. He could then — and this comes nearer to the
point at issue — place them on the head of anyone who was fearless
without their being burned. Spectators have described how the
silver filigree of the hair of Mr. Carter Hall used to be
gathered over the glowing ember, and Mrs. Hall has mentioned how
she
combed out the ashes afterwards. Now, in this case,
Home was clearly, able to convey, a power to another person, just
as Christ, when He was levitated over the lake, was able to
convey the same power to Peter, so long as Peter's faith held
firm. The question then arises if Home concentrated all his
force upon transferring such a power how long would that power
last? The experiment was never tried, but it would have borne
very, directly upon this argument. For, granting that the power
can be transferred, then it is very clear how the Christ circle
was able to send forth seventy disciples who were endowed with
miraculous functions. It is clear also why, new disciples had to
return to Jerusalem to be "baptised of the spirit," to use their
phrase, before setting forth upon their wanderings. And when in
turn they, desired to send forth representatives would not they
lay hands upon them, make passes over them and endeavour to
magnetise them in the same way — if that word may express the
process? Have we here the meaning of the laying on of hands by
the bishop at ordination, a ceremony to which vast importance is
still attached, but
which may well be the survival of
something really vital, the bestowal of the thaumaturgic power?
When, at last, through lapse of time or neglect of fresh
cultivation, the power ran out, the empty formula may have been
carried on, without either the blesser or the blessed
understanding what it was that the hands of the bishop, and the
force which streamed from them, were meant to bestow. The very
words "laying on of hands" would seem to suggest something
different from a mere benediction.
Enough has been said, perhaps, to show the reader that it is
possible to put forward a view of Christ's life which would be in
strict accord with the most modern psychic knowledge, and which,
far from supplanting Christianity, would show the surprising
accuracy of some of the details handed down to us, and would
support the novel conclusion that those very miracles, which have
been the stumbling block to so many truthful, earnest minds, may
finally offer some very cogent arguments for the truth of the
whole narrative. Is this then a line of thought which merits the
wholesale condemnations and anathemas hurled at it by those
who profess to speak in the name of religion? At the same
time, though we bring support to the New Testament, it would,
indeed, be a misconception if these, or any such remarks, were
quoted as sustaining its literal accuracy — an idea from which so
much harm has come in the past. It would, indeed, be a good,
though an unattainable thing, that a really honest and open-minded attempt should be made to weed out from that record the
obvious forgeries and interpolations which disfigure it, and
lessen the value of those parts which are really above suspicion.
Is it necessary, for example, to be told, as an inspired fact
from Christ's own lips, that Zacharias, the son of Barachias,
was struck dead within the precincts of the Temple in the time of
Christ, when, by a curious chance, Josephus has independently
narrated the incident as having occurred during the siege of
Jerusalem, thirty-seven years later? This makes it very clear
that this particular Gospel, in its present form, was written
after that event, and that the writer fitted into it at least one
other
incident which had struck his imagination.
Unfortunately, a revision by general agreement would be the
greatest of all miracles, for two of the very first texts to go
would be those which refer to the "Church," an institution and an
idea utterly unfamiliar in the days of Christ. Since the object
of the insertion of these texts is perfectly clear, there can be
no doubt that they are forgeries, but as the whole system of the
Papacy rests upon one of them, they are likely to survive for a
long time to come. The text alluded to is made further
impossible because it is based upon the supposition that Christ
and His fishermen conversed together in Latin or Greek, even to
the extent of making puns in that language. Surely the want of
moral courage and intellectual honesty among Christians will seem
as strange to our descendants as it appears marvellous to us that
the great thinkers of old could have believed, or at least have
pretended to believe, in the fighting sexual deities of Mount
Olympus.
Revision is, indeed, needed, and as I have already pleaded, a
change of emphasis is also needed, in order to get the grand
Christian conception back into the current of reason and
progress. The orthodox who, whether from humble faith or some
other cause, do not look deeply into such matters, can hardly
conceive the stumbling-blocks which are littered about before the
feet of their more critical brethren. What is easy, for faith is
impossible for reflection. Such expressions as "Saved by the
blood of the Lamb" or "Baptised by His precious blood" fill their
souls with a gentle and sweet emotion, while upon a more
thoughtful mind they have a very different effect.
Apart from the apparent injustice of vicarious atonement, the
student is well aware that the whole of this sanguinary metaphor
is drawn really from the Pagan rites of Mithra, where the
neophyte was actually placed under a bull at the ceremony of the
TAUROBOLIUM, and was drenched, through a grating, with the blood
of the slaughtered animal. Such reminiscences of the more brutal
side of Paganism are not helpful to the thoughtful and sensitive
modern mind. But what is always fresh and always useful and
always beautiful, is the memory of the sweet Spirit who wandered
on the hillsides of Galilee; who gathered the children
around him; who met his friends in innocent good-fellowship; who
shrank from forms and ceremonies, craving always for the inner
meaning; who forgave the sinner; who championed the poor, and who
in every decision threw his weight upon the side of charity and
breadth of view. When to this character you add those wondrous
psychic powers already analysed, you do, indeed, find a supreme
character in the world's history who obviously stands nearer to
the Highest than any other. When one compares the general effect
of His teaching with that of the more rigid churches, one marvels
how in their dogmatism, their insistence upon forms, their
exclusiveness, their pomp and their intolerance, they could have
got so far away from the example of their Master, so that as one
looks upon Him and them, one feels that there is absolute deep
antagonism and that one cannot speak of the Church and Christ,
but only of the Church or Christ.
And yet every Church produces beautiful souls, though it may
be debated whether "produces" or "contains" is the truthful
word. We have but to fall back upon our own personal
experience if we have lived long and mixed much with our fellow-men. I have myself lived during the seven most impressionable
years of my life among Jesuits, the most maligned of all
ecclesiastical orders, and I have found them honourable and good
men, in all ways estimable outside the narrowness which limits
the world to Mother Church. They were athletes, scholars, and
gentlemen, nor can I ever remember any examples of that casuistry
with which they are reproached. Some of my best friends have
been among the parochial clergy of the Church of England, men of
sweet and saintly character, whose pecuniary straits were often a
scandal and a reproach to the half-hearted folk who accepted
their spiritual guidance. I have known, also, splendid men among
the Nonconformist clergy, who have often been the champions of
liberty, though their views upon that subject have sometimes
seemed to contract when one ventured upon their own domain of
thought. Each creed has brought out men who were an honour to
the human race, and Manning or Shrewsbury,
Gordon or
Dolling, Booth or Stopford Brooke, are all equally admirable,
however diverse the roots from which they grow. Among the great
mass of the people, too, there are very many thousands of
beautiful souls who have been brought up on the old-fashioned
lines, and who never heard of spiritual communion or any other of
those matters which have been discussed in these essays, and yet
have reached a condition of pure spirituality such as all of us
may envy. Who does not know the maiden aunt, the widowed mother,
the mellowed elderly man, who live upon the hilltops of
unselfishness, shedding kindly thoughts and deeds around them,
but with their simple faith deeply, rooted in anything or
everything which has come to them in a hereditary fashion with
the sanction of some particular authority? I had an aunt who was
such an one, and can see her now, worn with austerity and
charity, a small, humble figure, creeping to church at all hours
from a house which was to her but a waiting-room between
services, while she looked at me with sad, wondering, grey eyes.
Such people have often reached by instinct, and in spite of
dogma, heights,
to which no system of philosophy can ever
raise us.
But making full allowance for the high products of every
creed, which may be only, a proof of the innate goodness of
civilised humanity, it is still beyond all doubt that
Christianity has broken down, and that this breakdown has been
brought home to everyone by the terrible castrophe which has
befallen the world. Can the most optimistic apologist contend
that this is a satisfactory, outcome from a religion which has
had the unopposed run of Europe for so many centuries? Which has
come out of it worst, the Lutheran Prussian, the Catholic
Bavarian, or the peoples who have been nurtured by the Greek
Church? If we, of the West, have done better, is it not rather
an older and higher civilisation and freer political institutions
that have held us back from all the cruelties, excesses and
immoralities which have taken the world back to the dark ages?
It will not do to say that they have occurred in spite of
Christianity, and that Christianity is, therefore, not to blame.
It is true that Christ's teaching is not to blame, for it is
often spoiled in the transmission.
But Christianity has
taken over control of the morals of Europe, and should have the
compelling force which would ensure that those morals would not
go to pieces upon the first strain. It is on this point that
Christianity must be judged, and the judgment can only be that it
has failed. It has not been an active controlling force upon the
minds of men. And why? It can only be because there is
something essential which is wanting. Men do not take it
seriously. Men do not believe in it. Lip service is the only
service in innumerable cases, and even lip service grows fainter.
Men, as distinct from women, have, both in the higher and lower
classes of life, ceased, in the greater number of cases, to show
a living interest in religion. The churches lose their grip upon
the people — and lose it rapidly. Small inner circles,
convocations, committees, assemblies, meet and debate and pass
resolutions of an ever narrower character. But the people go
their way and religion is dead, save in so far as intellectual
culture and good taste can take its place. But when religion is
dead, materialism becomes active,
and what active
materialism may produce has been seen in Germany.
Is it not time, then, for the religious bodies to discourage
their own bigots and sectarians, and to seriously consider, if
only for self-preservation, how they can get into line once more
with that general level of human thought which is now so far in
front of them? I say that they can do more than get level — they
can lead. But to do so they must, on the one hand, have the firm
courage to cut away from their own bodies all that dead tissue
which is but a disfigurement and an encumbrance. They must face
difficulties of reason, and adapt themselves to the demands of
the human intelligence which rejects, and is right in rejecting,
much which they offer. Finally, they must gather fresh strength
by drawing in all the new truth and all the new power which are
afforded by this new wave of inspiration which has been sent into
the world by God, and which the human race, deluded and bemused
by the would-be clever, has received with such perverse and
obstinate incredulity. When they have done all this, they will
find not only that they are leading
the world with an
obvious right to the leadership, but, in addition, that they have
come round once more to the very teaching of that Master whom
they have so long misrepresented.