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REINCARNATION
iiThe weary pilgrim oft doth seek to know
How far he’s come, how far he has to go.
Quarles.
Ghosts! There are nigh a thousand million of them walking the
earth openly at noontide; some half hundred have vanished from it,
some half hundred have arisen in it, ere thy watch tick one.
Carlyle.
Truth dwells in gulphs, whose deeps hide shades so rich
That Night sits muffled there in clouds of pitch,
More darke than Nature made her: and requires
(To cleare her tough mists) heaven’s great fire of fires
To wrestle with those heaven-strong mysteries.
George Chapman.
I am: how little more I know!
Whence came I? Whither do I go?
A central self which feels and is;
A cry between the silences;
A shadow-birth of clouds at strife
With sunshine on the hills of life;
A shaft from Nature’s quiver cast
Into the future from the past.
Whittier.
Where wert thou, Soul, ere yet my body born
Became thy dwelling-place? Didst thou on earth
Or in the clouds, await this body’s birth,
Or by what chance upon that winter’s morn
Didst thou this body find, a babe forlorn?
Didst thou in sorrow enter, or in mirth?
Or for a jest, perchance, to try its worth
Thou tookest flesh, ne’er from it to be torn.
Waddington.
BY
E. D. WALKER
“Ex oriente lux”
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY
The Riverside Press, Cambridge
1888
Copyright, 1888,
By E. D. WALKER.
All rights reserved.
The Riverside Press, Cambridge:
Electrotyped and Printed by H. O. Houghton & Co.
To
THE SPIRIT OF TRUTH
AND TO
THAT EMBODIMENT OF TRUTH, NAMED
ARIEL,
THIS LITTLE VOLUME PROMPTED BY THEM
Is Dedicated,
WITH THE HOPE THAT THEY ARE NOT HERE DISHONORED
BY THEIR DISCIPLE,
THE AUTHOR.
viSoul, dwelling oft in God’s infinitude
And sometimes seeming no more part of me—
This me, worms’ heritage—than that sun can be
Part of the earth he has with warmth imbued,—
Whence camest thou? Whither goest thou? I, subdued
With awe of mine own being thus sit still,
Dumb, on the summit of this lonely hill,
Whose dry November grasses dew-bestrewed
Mirror a million suns. That sun so bright,
Passes as thou must pass, Soul, into night.
Art thou afraid who solitary hast trod
A path I know not, from a source to a bourn
Both which I know not? Fearest thou to return
Alone, even as thou camest alone, to God?
D. M. Mulock.
Insect and reptile, fish and bird and beast,
Cast their worn robes aside, fresh robes to don;
Tree, flower, and moss, put new year’s raiments on;
Each natural type, the greatest as the least,
Renews its vesture when its use hath ceased.
How should man’s spirit keep in unison
With the world’s law of outgrowth, save it won
New robes and ampler as its girth increased?
Quit shrunken creed, and dwarfed philosophy!
Let gently die an art’s decaying fire!
Work on the ancient lines, but yet be free
To leave and frame anew, if God inspire!
The planets change their surface as they roll:
The force that binds the spheres must bind the soul.
Henry G. Hewlett.
PREFACE.
vii
“The idea of a transmigration of souls has hitherto
remained a dream of the fancy, nor has any one yet
succeeded in giving it a higher moral significance
for the order of the universe.” So writes Hermann
Lotze, the German philosopher, in his magnificent
“Microcosm,” expressing the common feeling of
Christendom. If this little book achieves its purpose
it will show the strength and value of that dreamy
idea.
The present perplexity of all Christendom upon the
deepest problems of life, the sense of blind fate oppressing
mankind, the despairing restlessness of many
leading poets, the absence of sublime ideals in art,
the prevalence of materialism and agnosticism (if not
in philosophy, in the most vital form of practical
life), all feed a flood-tide of dissatisfaction which
Christianity tries in vain to resist, and indicate that
the West deeply needs some new truth. Not only
the wavering masses of men, but many of those uncompromising
devotees of truth who dare surrender
themselves, like St. Christopher, to the mightiest, are
yearning after a larger revelation. A portion of this
viiiis contained, we believe, in the doctrine variously
termed as Reincarnation, Metempsychosis, Transmigration.
By this we do not mean the theories concerning
re-birth of men in brute bodies, which are
attributed to oriental religions and philosophies because
popularly accepted by their followers. These
are crude caricatures of the true conception. They
represent the reality as absurdly as ordinary life in
Europe and America illustrates the teaching of Jesus.
But we mean the inner kernel of that husk, which in
protean forms has irrepressibly welled up in every
great phase of thought, which is an open secret lying
all around us and not simply a foreign importation,
and which Christendom cannot afford to lose.
For those who are content with the usual creeds
this little work will have no attraction. They may
be pleased to regard it as a heathen invasion of Christendom.
But for truth-seekers it may prove useful,
though it claims only to be an earnest investigation
of what seems an undemonstrable proposition. Its
doctrine was first met as the declaration of the profoundest
students of the mysteries enveloping humanity—coming
with authority but no proof of
weight to most western thinkers. Its violent antagonism
to current ideas compelled the writer to dispose
of it by independent methods. If true, there must
be some confirmation of it such as will impress any
candid mind. If false, nothing can force it to live.
This led to a careful study of the subject, which was
summarized in a brief essay read and published to
ixa small circle of Theosophists. A continuation of
that study has resulted in this volume. Some readers
will regard it as a waste of energy, except as a diverting
curiosity, the truth or falsehood of reincarnation
being to them of little consequence. But a sincere
motive underlies it. For reincarnation illuminates
the darkest passages in the murky road of life, dispels
many haunting enigmas and illusions, and reveals
cardinal principles which, if apprehended, will
steady the shambling gait of mankind. Virtue, kindliness,
and spirituality may thus be seen in their unveiled
splendor as the only proper modes of action
and thought. The noblest life is discerned to be the
only sensible kind, and not abandoned to the accidental
expression of impulse or sentiment. The cause of all
the evils of modern society, the parent of the revolutions
of Europe, the source of the labor disturbances
aggravating America, is the arch-enemy of the race—materialism.
Reincarnation combats that foe by a
most subtle and deadly warfare.
The sincere thanks of the writer are due to a number
of kind friends, whose assistance has largely facilitated
the collection of materials for this book, and
also to the authors who have kindly permitted the
use of extracts from their writings, (in chapters iv
and v.)
E. D. W.
xOf all the theories respecting the origin of the soul, it (preëxistence)
seems to me the most plausible and therefore the one most likely
to throw light on the question of a life to come.—Frederick H.
Hedge.
It would be curious if we should find science and philosophy taking
up again the old theory of metempsychosis, remodelling it to
suit our present modes of religious and scientific thought, and launching
it again on the wide ocean of human belief. But stranger things
have happened in the history of human opinion.—James Freeman
Clarke.
If we could legitimately determine any question of belief by the
number of its adherents, the quod semper, quod ubique, quod ab omnibus
would apply to metempsychosis more fitly than to any other.
I think it is quite as likely to be revived and to come to the front
again as any rival theory.—Professor William Knight.
It seems to me, a firm and well-grounded faith in the doctrine of
Christian metempsychosis might help to regenerate the world. For
it would be a faith not hedged round with many of the difficulties
and objections which beset other forms of doctrine, and it offers distinct
and pungent motives for trying to lead a more Christian life,
and for loving and helping our brother-man.—Professor Francis
Bowen.
1. Immortality demands it; 2. Analogy suggests it; 3. Science confirms it; 4. The nature of the soul requires it; 5. It answers the theological question of “original sin” and “future punishment;” 6. Many strange experiences are explained by it; 7. The problems of life and of Nemesis are solved best by it.
1. We have no memory of past lives; 2. It is unjust for us to receive the results of forgotten deeds; 3. Heredity opposes it; 4. It is an uncongenial doctrine.
Extracts: 1. Schopenhauer; 2. Lessing; 3. Fichte; 4. Herder; 5. Henry More; 6. Sir Thomas Browne; 7. Chevalier Ramsay; 8. Soame Jenyns; 9. Joseph Glanvil; 10. Dowden’s Shelley; 11. Hume; 12. Southey; 13. William Blake; 14. William Knight; 15. W. A. Butler; 16. Bulwer; 17. Pezzani; 18. Emerson; 19. James Freeman Clarke; 20. William R. Alger; 21. Francis Bowen; 22. Frederick A. Hedge.
I. American Poets: Hayne, Whittier, Taylor, Aldrich, Leland, Thompson, Willis, Trowbridge, Longfellow, Lowell, Whitman, Parsons.
II. British Poets: Wordsworth, Gosse, Alford, Milnes, Tennyson, Rossetti, Addison, Bailey, Sharp, Tupper, Browning, Leyden, Coleridge, Miss Tatham, Dr. Donne, Collins, Matthew Arnold.
III. Continental Poets: Boyesen, Hugo, Béranger, Goethe, Schiller, Campanella.
The doctrine of metempsychosis may almost claim to be a natural
or innate belief in the human mind, if we may judge from its wide
diffusion among the nations of the earth and its prevalence throughout
the historical ages.—Professor Francis Bowen.
INTRODUCTION.
1
2We sow the glebe, we reap the corn,
We build the house where we may rest,
And then, at moments, suddenly,
We look up to the great wide sky,
Enquiring wherefore we were born,—
For earnest, or for jest?
The senses folding thick and dark
About the stifled soul within,
We guess diviner things beyond,
And yearn to them with yearning fond;
We strike out boldly to a mark
Believed in, but not seen.
And sometimes horror chills our blood
To be so near such mystic things,
And we wrap round us, for defence,
Our purple manners, moods of sense,—
As angels, from the face of God,
Stand hidden in their wings.
Mrs. Browning.
3
INTRODUCTION.
Once the whole civilized world embraced reincarnation,
and found therein a complete answer to that
riddle of man’s descent and destiny which the inexorable
sphinx Life propounds to every traveler along
her way. But the western branch of the race, in
working out the material conquest of the world, has
acquired the compensating discontent of a material
philosophy. It has lost the old faith and drifted into
a shadowy region, where the eagerness for “practical”
things rejects whatever cannot be physically proven.
Even God and immortality are for the most part conjectures,
believed only after demonstration, and not
vitally then. The realization of this condition is provoking
throughout Christendom a counter-current of
spirituality. The growing freedom of thought and
the eastward look of many leading minds seem to
herald a renaissance more radical, although more
subtle and gradual, than the reformations of Columbus,
Luther, and Guthenberg. As surely as the occupation
and development of the western Eldorado revived
Europe into unprecedented vigor, the exploration of
Palestine, and beyond into India, for treasures more
precious than gold and dominion, shall revitalize the
West with an unparalleled growth of spiritual power.
Strangely enough, too, just as the “New World”
proved to be geologically the oldest continent, so the
4“new truths” recently discovered are found to be the
most ancient. They are as universal as the ocean,
always waiting to be used. The latest philosophies
and heterodoxies are only fresh phrasings of early
ideas. The most advanced conceptions of art, education,
and government are essentially identical with
those of Greece and Rome. The newest industries
are approaching the lost arts of Egypt. The modern
sciences (as electricity and chemistry) are merely
ingenious applications of what the schoolmasters of
the primitive races knew better in some respects than
Edison and Cooke. Geology has just dawned upon us
to reveal the sublime synopsis of earth’s history hidden
for over three thousand years in the first chapter
of the Bible. The last great thought of this era—Evolution—is
as old as the hills in the East. Professor
Crookes’s wonderful experiment connected with
the instability of certain elements, psychic force, and
the fourth dimension of matter (so far in advance of
present scientific culture that many physicists deride
them) are stumblings upon the outskirts of a domain
long familiar to oriental students. After many centuries
of tedious jangling with creeds and sects, we are
slowly learning that primitive Christianity will make
earth a paradise. The permanent edifice of the world’s
complete education seems to patiently await the time
when men shall tire of fashioning useless building
stuff from their crumbling theories and revert to the
basal granite of which the everlasting foundations are
laid, caring only to shape the superstructure by the
Architect’s plan.
Although commonly rejected throughout Europe
and America, reincarnation is unreservedly accepted
by the majority of mankind at the present day, as in
5all the past centuries. From the dawn of history it
has prevailed among the largest part of humanity
with an unshaken intensity of conviction. Over all
the mightiest eastern nations it has held permanent
sway. The ancient civilization of Egypt, whose grandeur
cannot be overestimated, was built upon this as
a fundamental truth, and taught it as a precious secret
to Pythagoras, Empedocles, Plato, Virgil, and Ovid,
who scattered it through Greece and Italy. It is the
keynote of Plato’s philosophy, being stated or implied
very frequently in his dialogues. “Soul is older
than body,” he says. “Souls are continually born
over again from Hades into this life.” In his view
all knowledge is reminiscence. To search and learn
is simply to revive the images of what the soul saw
in its preëxistent state in the world of realities. It
was also widely spread in the Neo-platonism of Plotinus
and Proclus. The swarming millions of India
have made this thought the foundation of their enormous
achievements in government, architecture, philosophy,
and poetry. It was a cardinal element in
the religion of the Persian Magi. Alexander the
Great gazed in amazement on the self-immolation by
fire to which it inspired the Gymnosophists. Cæsar
found its tenets propagated among the Gauls. The
circle of metempsychosis was an essential principle
of the Druid faith, and as such was impressed upon
our forefathers the Celts, the Gauls, and the Britons.
It is claimed that the people held this doctrine so
vitally that they wept around the new-born infant
and smiled upon death; for the beginning and end of
an earthly life were to them the imprisonment and
release of a soul, which must undergo repeated probations
to remove its degrading impurities for final ascent
6into a succession of higher spheres. The Bardic triads
of the Welsh are replete with this thought, and a
Welsh antiquary insists that an ancient emigration
from Wales to India conveyed it to the Brahmans.
Among the Arab philosophers it was a favorite idea,
and it still may be noticed in many Mohammedan
writers. In the old civilizations of Peru and Mexico
it prevailed universally. The priestly rites of the
Egyptian Isis, the Eleusinian mysteries of Greece, the
Bacchic processions of Rome, the Druid ceremonies of
Britain, and the Cabalic rituals of the Hebrews, all
expressed this great truth with peculiar force for their
initiated witnesses. The Jews generally adopted it
after the Babylonian captivity through the Pharisees,
Philo of Alexandria, and the doctors. John the
Baptist was to them a second Elijah. Jesus was commonly
thought to be a reappearance of John the Baptist
or of one of the old prophets. The Talmud and
the Cabala are full of the same teaching. Some of
the late Rabbins assert many entertaining things concerning
the repeated births of the most noted persons
of their nation. Christianity is not an exception to
all the other great religions in promulgating the same
philosophy. Reincarnation played an important part
in the thought of Origen and several other leaders
among the early Church Fathers. It was a main portion
of the creed of the Gnostics and Manichæans. In
the Middle Ages many scholastics and heretical sects
advocated it. It has cropped out spontaneously in many
western theologians. The elder English divines do
not hesitate to inculcate preëxistence in their sermons.
In the seventeenth century Dr. Henry More and
other Cambridge Platonists gave it wide acceptance.
The Roman Catholic Purgatory seems to be a makeshift
7improvised to take its place. Sir Harry Vane is
said by Burnet to have maintained this doctrine.
Many philosophers of metaphysical depth, like
Scotus, Kant, Schelling, Leibnitz, Schopenhauer, and
the younger Fichte, have upheld reincarnation. Geniuses
of noble symmetry, like Giordano Bruno, Herder,
Lessing, and Goethe, have fathered it. Scientists
like Flammarion, Figuier, and Brewster have earnestly
advocated it. Theological leaders like Julius
Müller, Dorner, Ernesti, Rückert, and Edward
Beecher have maintained it. In exalted intuitional
natures like Boehme and Swedenborg its hold is apparent.
Most of the mystics bathe in it. Of course
the long line of Platonists from Socrates down to
Emerson have no doubt of it. Nearly all the poets
profess it.
Even amid the predominance of materialistic influences
in Christendom it has a considerable following.
Traces of it are found among the aborigines of
North and South America, and in many barbaric tribes.
At this time it reigns without any sign of decrepitude
over the Burman, Chinese, Japanese, Tartar, Thibetan,
and East Indian nations, including at least
750,000,000 of mankind and nearly two thirds of the
race. Throughout the East it is the great central
thought. It is no mere superstition of the ignorant
masses. It is the chief principle of Hindu metaphysics,—the
basis of all their inspired books. Such a
hoary philosophy, held by the venerable authority of
ages, ruling from the beginning of time the bulk of
the world’s thought, cherished in some form by the
disciples of every great religion, is certainly worthy of
the profoundest respect and study. There must be
some vital reality inspiring so stupendous an existence.
8But the western fondness for democracy does not
hold in the domain of thought. The fact that the
majority of the race has agreed upon reincarnation is
no argument for it to an occidental thinker. The
conceit of modern progress has no more respect for
ancient ideas than for the forgotten civilization of old,
even though in many essentials they anticipated or
outstripped all that we boast of. Therefore we propose
to treat this subject largely from a western
standpoint.
I. WHAT IS REINCARNATION?
9
10You cannot say of the soul, it shall be, or is about to be, or is to be
hereafter. It is a thing without birth.—Bhagavad Gita.
As the inheritance of an illustrious name and pedigree quickens
the sense of duty in every noble nature, a belief in preëxistence may
enhance the glory of the present life and intensify the reverence with
which the deathless principle is regarded.—William Knight.
If we except the belief of a future remuneration beyond this life
for suffering virtue and retribution for successful crimes, there is no
system so simple, and so little repugnant to our understanding, as that
of metempsychosis. The pains and pleasures of this life are by this
system considered as the recompense or the punishment of our actions
in another state.—Isaac D’Israeli.
The experiences gained in one life may not be remembered in their
details in the next, but the impressions which they produce will remain.
Again and again man passes through the wheel of transformation,
changing his lower energies into higher ones, until matter
attracts him no longer, and he becomes—what he is destined to be—a
god.—Hartmann.
As billows on the undulating main
That swelling fall, and falling swell again,
So on the tide of time incessant roll
The dying body and the deathless soul.
11
I.
WHAT IS REINCARNATION?
Reincarnation is an extremely simple doctrine
rooted in the assurance of the soul’s indestructibility.
It explains at once the descent and the destiny of the
soul by so natural and forcible a method that it has
not only dominated the ingenuous minds of all the
primitive races, but has become the most widely
spread and most permanently influential of all philosophies.
Reincarnation teaches that the soul enters this life,
not as a fresh creation, but after a long course of previous
existences on this earth and elsewhere, in which
it acquired its present inhering peculiarities, and
that it is on the way to future transformations which
the soul is now shaping. It claims that infancy
brings to earth, not a blank scroll for the beginning
of an earthly record, nor a mere cohesion of atomic
forces into a brief personality soon to dissolve again
into the elements, but that it is inscribed with ancestral
histories, some like the present scene, most of
them unlike it and stretching back into the remotest
past. These inscriptions are generally undecipherable,
save as revealed in their moulding influence upon the
new career; but like the invisible photographic images
made by the sun of all it sees, when they are properly
12developed in the laboratory of consciousness they will
be distinctly displayed. The current phase of life will
also be stored away in the secret vaults of memory, for
its unconscious effect upon the ensuing lives. All the
qualities we now possess, in body, mind and soul, result
from our use of ancient opportunities. We are
indeed “the heirs of all the ages,” and are alone
responsible for our inheritances. For these conditions
accrue from distant causes engendered by our older
selves, and the future flows by the divine law of
cause and effect from the gathered momentum of our
past impetuses. There is no favoritism in the universe,
but all have the same everlasting facilities for
growth. Those who are now elevated in worldly station
may be sunk in humble surroundings in the future.
Only the inner traits of the soul are permanent
companions. The wealthy sluggard may be the beggar
of the next life; and the industrious worker of
the present is sowing the seeds of future greatness.
Suffering bravely endured now will produce a treasure
of patience and fortitude in another life; hardships
will give rise to strength; self-denial must develop
the will; tastes cultivated in this existence will somehow
bear fruit in coming ones; and acquired energies
will assert themselves whenever they can by the lex
parsimoniæ upon which the principles of physics are
based. Vice versa, the unconscious habits, the uncontrollable
impulses, the peculiar tendencies, the favorite
pursuits, and the soul-stirring friendships of the
present descend from far-reaching previous activities.
Science explains the idiosyncrasies of plants and
animals by the environment of previous generations
and calls instinct hereditary habit. In the same way
there is an evolution of individuality, by which the
13child opens its new era with characteristics derived
from anterior lives, and adds the experience of a new
personality to the sum total of his treasured traits.
In its passage through earthly personalities the spiritual
self, the essential Ego, accumulates a fund of individual
character which remains as the permanent
thread stringing together the separate lives. The
soul is therefore an eternal water globule, which sprang
in the beginningless past from mother ocean, and
is destined after an unreckonable course of meanderings
in cloud and rain, snow and steam, spring and
river, mud and vapor, to at last return with the
garnered experience of all lonely existences into the
central Heart of all. Or rather, it is the crystal
stream running from a heavenly fountain through one
continuous current that often halts in favorite corners,
sunny pools, and shady nooks, muddy ponds and
clearest lakes, each delay shifting the direction and altering
the complexion of the next tide as it issues out
by the path of least resistance.
That we have forgotten the causes producing the
present sequence of pleasures and pains, talents and
defects, successes and failures, is no disproof of them,
and does not disturb the justice of the scheme. For
temporary oblivion is the anodyne by which the kindly
physician is bringing us through the darker wards of
sorrow into perfect health.
We do not undertake to trace the details of our
earlier stoppages further than is indicated in the uncontrovertible
principle, that as long as the soul is
governed by material desires it must find its homes in
physical realms, and when its inclination is purely
spiritual it certainly will inhabit the domain of spirit.
The restless wandering of all souls must at last conclude
14in the peace of God, but that will not be possible
until they have gone through all the rounds of
experience and learned that only in that Goal is satisfaction.
That men ever dwell in bodies of beasts, we
deny as irrational, as such a retrogression would contradict
the fundamental maxims of nature. That
philosophy is a corruption of Reincarnation, in which
the masses have coarsely masked the truth.
Granting the permanence of the human spirit amid
every change, the doctrine of re-birth is the only one
yielding a metaphysical explanation of the phenomena
of life. It is already accepted in the physical plane
as evolution, and holds a firm ethical value in applying
the law of justice to human experience. In confirmation
of it there stands the strongest weight of
evidence, argumentary, empirical, and historic. It
untangles the knotty problem of life simply and
grandly. It meets the severest requirements of enlightened
reason, and is in deepest harmony with the
spirit of Christianity.
II. WESTERN EVIDENCES OF REINCARNATION.
15
16The house of life hath many chambers.—Rossetti.
The soul is not born; it does not die; it was not produced from
any one; nor was any produced from it.—Emerson.
For men to tell how human life began
Is hard: for who himself beginning knew.
Milton.
There is surely a piece of divinity in us,—something that was before
the elements and owes no homage unto the sun.
Whatever hath no beginning may be confident of no end.—Sir
Thomas Browne.
For of the soul the body form doth take,
For soul is form and doth the body make.
Spenser.
Secreted and hidden in the heart of the world and the heart of
man is the light which can illumine all life, the future and the past.
Through the Gates of Gold.
The soul, if immortal, existed before our birth.
What is incorruptible must be ungenerable.
Metempsychosis is the only system of immortality that Philosophy
can hearken to.—Hume.
Nature is nothing less than the ladder of resurrection which, step
by step, leads upward,—or rather is carried from the abyss of eternal
death up to the apex of life.—Schlegel.
Look nature through; ’tis revolution all,
All change; no death. Day follows night, and night
The dying day; stars rise and set, and set and rise.
Earth takes the example. All to reflourish fades
As in a wheel: all sinks to reascend;
Emblems of man, who passes, not expires.
Young.
The blending of mind and matter in the bodily structure of the
sentient and rational orders, we may be assured, is a method of procedure
which, if it be not absolutely indispensable to the final purposes
of the creation, subserves the most important ends and carries
with it consequences such as will make it the general, if not the universal
law of all finite natures, in all worlds.—Isaac Taylor.
17
II.
WESTERN EVIDENCES OF REINCARNATION.
The old Saxon chronicler, Bede, records that at a
banquet given by King Edwin of Northumbria to his
nobles, a discussion arose as to how they should receive
the Christian missionary Paulinus, who had just
arrived from the continent. Some urged the sufficiency
of their own Druid and Norse religions and
advised the death of the invading heretic. Others
were in favor of hearing his message. At length the
king asked the opinion of his oldest counsellor. The
sage arose and said: “O king and lords. You all
did remark the swallow which entered this festal hall
to escape the chilling winds without, fluttering near
the fire for a few moments and then vanishing through
the opposite window. Such is the life of man.
Whence it came and whither it goes none can tell.
Therefore if this new religion brings light upon so
great a mystery, it must be diviner than ours and
should be welcomed.” The old man’s advice was
adopted.
We are in the position of those old ancestors of
ours. The religion of the churches, called Christianity,
is to many earnest souls a dry husk. The germinant
kernel of truth as it came from the founder of Christianity,
when it is discovered under all its barren
18wrappings, is indeed sufficient to feed us with the
bread of life. It answers all the practical needs of
most people even with the husks. But it leaves some
vital questions unanswered which impel us to desire
something more than Jesus taught—not for mere
curiosity, but as food for larger growth. The divine
law which promises to fill every vacuum, and to gratify
at last every aspiration, has not left us without
means of grasping a portion of these grander truths.
The commonest idea of the soul throughout Christendom
seems to be that it is created specially for
birth on this world, and after its lifetime here it goes
to a permanent spiritual realm of infinite continuance.
This is a very comfortable belief derived from the appearances
of things, and those holding it may very
properly say, “My view agrees with the phenomena,
and if you think differently the burden of proof rests
upon you.” We accept this responsibility. But a
careful observer knows that the true explanation of
facts is as a rule very different from the appearance.
Ptolemy thought he could account for all the heavenly
motions on his geocentric theory, and his teachings
were at once received by his contemporaries. But the
deeper studies of Copernicus and Galileo had to wait
a century before they were accepted, although they introduced
an astronomy of immeasurably nobler scale.
Is it not a relic of the old confidence in appearances
to consider the physical orbits of human souls as limited
to our little view of them?
The theologian seeks to explain life, with its inequalities,
its miseries and injustices, by a future condition
rewarding and punishing men for the deeds of
earth. He concedes that benevolence and justice cannot
be proven in God by what is seen of His earthly
19administration. The final law of creation is said to
be Love, but the sin and suffering bequeathed to most
of the race through no apparent fault of theirs annuls
that dictum in the world’s real thought, and compels
men to regard life as a ceaseless struggle for existence
in which the strongest wins and the weakest fails, and
the devil takes the hindermost. But even if the
future life will straighten out this by a just judgment,
fairness demands that all shall have an even
chance here,—which only reincarnation assures.
The materialist takes a more plausible ground.
On the basis of the soul beginning with the present
existence, he regards all the developments of life as
results of blind natural forces. He says that the variety
of atomic qualities accounts for all the divergencies
of life, physical, mental, and moral. But he
can give no reason why the same particles of matter
should accomplish such stupendous varieties. Moreover
Science, the materialist’s gospel, instead of disposing
of psychic facts, is studying and classifying
them as a new branch of supersensuous knowledge.[1]
These investigations will ultimately initiate Science
into the surety of non-physical things. Already a
strong advance in that direction has been made by
Isaac Taylor’s “Physical Theory of a Future Life”
and Stewart & Tait’s “Unseen Universe.” The conception
of an Infinite Personality overwhelms all the
narrow groove-thinking of every mechanical school,
and rises supremely in the strongest scientific philosophy
of all time—that of Herbert Spencer. Strangest
of all, Evolution, the cornerstone of Spencerian
philosophy, is merely a paraphrase of reincarnation.
20There are seven arguments for Reincarnation which
seem conclusive.
1. That the idea of immortality demands it.
2. That analogy makes it the most probable.
3. That science confirms it.
4. That the nature of the soul requires it.
5. That it most completely answers the theological
questions of “original sin” and “future punishment.”
6. That it explains many mysterious experiences.
7. That it alone solves the problem of injustice and
misery which broods over our world.
1. Immortality demands it.
Only the positivists and some allied schools of
thought, comprising a very small proportion of Christendom,
doubt the immortality of the soul. But a
conscious existence after death has no better proof
than a pre-natal existence. It is an old declaration
that what begins in time must end in time. We have
no right to say that the soul is eternal on one side of
its earthly period without being so on the other. Far
more rational is the view of certain scientists who,
believing that the soul originates with this life, also
declare that it ends with this life. That is the logical
outcome of their premise. If the soul sprang into existence
specially for this life, why should it continue
afterward? It is precisely as probable from all the
grounds of reason that death is the conclusion of the
soul as that birth is the beginning of it. As Cudworth
points out, it was this argument which had special
weight with the Greek philosophers, whose reasonings
upon immortality have led all later generations. They
21asserted the eternity of the soul in order to vindicate its
immortality. For, they held, as nothing which has
being can have originated from nothingness, or can
vanish into nothingness, and as they were certain of
their existence, it was impossible that they could have
had a temporal beginning. The present life must be
only one stage of a vast number, stretching backward
and forward.
Our instinctive belief in immortality implies a subconscious
acceptance of this view. We are certain
of a persevering life outlasting all the changes of time
and death. But birth, as well as death, is one of the
temporal shifts belonging to the transitory sphere
which is foreign to our spirits. It is only because our
backs are toward the earlier change and our faces to
the later that we refuse to reason about one on the
principles used about the other. If we lived in the reversed
world of Fechner’s “Dr. Mises,” in which old
things grow new and men begin life by a reversed
dying and end by a reversed birth, we would probably
devise arguments for preëxistence as zealously as we
do now for future existence, and that would lead to
reincarnation. For all the indications of immortality
point as unfailingly to an eternity preceding this existence:
the love of prolonged life; the analogy of
nature; the prevailing belief of the most spiritual
minds; the permanence of the ego principle; the inconceivability
of annihilation or of creation from
nothing; the promise of an extension of the present
career; the injustice of any other thought.
The ordinary Christian idea of special creation at
birth involves the correlative of annihilation at death.
What the origin of the soul may have been does not
affect this subject, further than that it long antedates
22the present life. Whether it be a spark from God
himself, or a divine emanation, or a cluster of independent
energies, its eternal destiny compels the inference
that it is uncreated and indestructible. Moreover,
it is unthinkable that from an infinite history it
enters this world for its first and only physical experience
and then shoots off to an endless spiritual existence.
The deduction is rather that it assumed many
forms before it appeared as we now see it, and is
bound to pass through many coming lives before it
will be rounded into the full orb of perfection and
reach its ultimate goal.
2. Analogy is strongly in favor of reincarnation.
Were Bishop Butler to work out the problem of the
career of the human soul in the light of modern
science, we doubt not that his masterpiece would advocate
this “pagan” thought. For many centuries
the literature of nations has discerned a standard
simile of the soul’s deathlessness in the transformation
of the caterpillar into the butterfly. But it is known
now that once all the caterpillars and butterflies were
alike, and that by repeated incarnations they have
reached the bewildering differences. When they
started off from the procession of life on their own road
from one or a few similar species, the progeny scattered
into various circumstances, and the struggles and
devices which they went through for their own purposes,
being repeated for thousands of years in millions
of lives, has developed the surprising heterogeneity of
feather-winged insects. And as each undergoes his
rapid changes in rehearsal of his long pedigree, we
may trace the succession of his earlier lives.
The violent energy of the present condition argues
a previous stage leading up to it. It is contended
23with great force of analogy that death is but another
and higher birth. This life is a groping embryo plane
implying a more exalted one. Mysterious intimations
reach us from a diviner sphere,—
“Like hints and echoes of the world
To spirits folded in the womb.”
But subtle indications rearward argue that birth is the
death of an earlier existence. Even the embryo life
necessitates a preparatory one preceding it. So complete
a structure must have a foundation. So swift a
momentum must have traveled far. As Emerson observes:
“We wake and find ourselves on a stair.
There are other stairs below us which we seem to have
ascended; there are stairs above us, many a one, which
go upward and out of sight.”
The grand order of creation is everywhere proclaiming
as the universal word, “change.” Nothing is destroyed,
but all is passing from one existence to another.
Not an atom but is dancing in lively march
from its present condition to a different form, running
a ceaseless cycle through mineral, vegetable, and animal
existence, though never losing its individuality,
however diverse its apparent alterations. Not a creature
but is constantly progressing to something else.
The tadpole becomes a fish, the fish a frog, and some
of the frogs have turned to birds. It was the keen
perception of this principle in nature which gave their
vital force to the Greek mythologies and other ancient
stories embodying the idea of transmutation of personality
through many guises. It was this which animated
the metamorphoses of Ovid, whose philosophy
is contained in these lines from his poem on Pythagoras:—
24“Death, so called, is but old matter dressed
In some new form. And in a varied vest
From tenement to tenement, though tossed,
The soul is still the same, the figure only lost:
And, as the softened wax new seals receives,
This face assumes, and that impression leaves,
Now called by one, now by another name,
The form is only changed, the wax is still the same.
Evolution has remoulded the thought of Christendom,
expanding our conception of physiology, astronomy
and history. The more it is studied the more
universal is found its application. It seems to be
the secret of God’s life. Now that we know the evolution
of the body, it is time that we learned the evolution
of the soul. The biologist shows that each of
us physically before birth runs through all the phases
of animal life—polyp, fish, reptile, dog, ape, and
man—as a brief synopsis of how the ages have prepared
our tenements. The preponderance of special
animal traits in us is due, he says, to the emphasis of
those particular stages of our physical growth. So in
infancy does the soul move through an unconscious
series of existences, recapitulating its long line of descent,
until it is fastened in maturity. And why is it
not true that our soul traits are the relics of former
activities? Evolution proves that the physical part
of man is the product of a long series of changes, in
which each stage is both the effect of past influences
and the cause of succeeding issues. Does not the immaterial
part of man require a development equally
25vast? The fact of an intellectual and moral evolution
proceeding hand in hand with the physical can only
be explained under the economy of nature by a series
of reincarnations.
3. Furthermore, the idea that the soul is specially
created for introduction into this world combats all
the principles of science. All nature proceeds on the
strictest economic methods. Nothing is either lost or
added. There is no creation or destruction. Whatever
appears to spring suddenly into existence is derived
from some sufficient cause—although as unseen
as the vapor currents which feed the clouds.
There is a growing consensus of opinion among spiritualists
and materialists alike, that the quantity both
of force and of matter remains constant. The law of
conservation of energy holds in the spiritual realm as
in physics. The uniform stock of energy in the universe
neither declines nor increases, but incessantly
changes. The marvelous developments shown in the
protean organisms continually entering the procession
of life indicate that the new manifestations descend
from some patriarchal line, uncreated and immortal,
coming through the hidden regions of previous existences.
Science allows no such miracle as the theological
special resurrection, which is contrary to all
experience. But it recognizes the universality of resurrection
throughout all nature, which is a matter of
common observation. The idea of the soul as a phœnix,
eternally continuing through myriad embodiments,
is adapted to the whole spirit of modern science.
Especially significant is the axiomatic law of cause
and effect. There is no other adequate explanation
of the phenomena of life than the purely scientific
one, that causes similar to those now operating before
26our eyes have produced the results we witness. The
impelling characteristics of each personality require
some earlier experiences of physical life to have generated
them. All the sensuous proclivities of human
nature point to long earthly experience as their only
origin. And the unsatisfied physical inclinations of
the soul necessitate a series of material existences to
work themselves out. The irrepressible eagerness for
all the range of experience seems to be a sufficient
reason for a course of incarnations which shall accomplish
that result.
Physiologists contend that the wondrous human
organism could not have grown up out of mere matter,
but implies a preëxistent personal idea,[3] which
grouped around itself the organic conditions of physical
existence and constrained the material elements
27to follow its plan. This dynamic agent—or the
soul—must have existed independent of the body before
the receptacle was prepared. Bouiller and the
German scientists Müller, Hartmann, and Stahl, have
especially demonstrated in physiology this idea of a
preëxistent soul monad, whose plastic power unconsciously
constructs its own corporeal organism. The
Greeks coiled this idea into the word σϲἡμα, and the
younger Fichte and Lotze have developed it. The
doctrine of modern physiology, as presented by the
animists, is precisely the ground taken by upholders of
reincarnation,—that as the lower animals fashion
ingenious nests with incredible skill, so the unwitting
soul blindly frames the fabric of its body in keeping
with the laws of its own adaptation. The unconscious
agency of the mind or instinct in repairing the body,
healing its hurts and guiding its growth, is recognized
by most scientists. Plato but expresses the same
idea when he says, “The soul always weaves her garment
anew.” This thought is well worded by Giordano
Bruno when he says, “The soul is not in the
body locally, but as its intrinsic form and extrinsic
mould, as that which makes the members and shapes
the whole within and without. The body, then, is in
the soul, the soul in the mind (spirit). The Intellect
(Spirit) is God.”
This conception gives the lie to the materialism
which limits the forces of the individual to the complications
of a mechanism. A corollary of this
moulding power of the independent soul is Plato’s proposition
that “the soul has a natural strength which
will hold out and be born many times.” Since the
ego is older than the body, the resident who builds its
dwelling according to its tastes and materials, and
28since the purpose of its corporeal habitation cannot
possibly be accomplished in a single brief lifetime, it
is necessary that it should repeat that experience, always
framing its receptacle to suit its growing character,
like the epochs of a lobster’s enlargement, until
it has done with physical life. The new apparitions
of men upon the earth thus hail from older scenes.
Evolution may fairly be claimed as a spiritual
truth applying to all the methods of life. The gradual
development of the soul, by the school of experience,
demands a vaster arena of action than one earthly life
affords. If it takes ages of time and thousands of
lives to form one kind of an animal from another,
the expansion of human souls from lower to higher
natures surely needs many and many a life for that
growth.
Evolutionary science explains the instinctive acts
of young animals as inherited tendencies,—as past
experiences transmitted into fresh forms. Psychic
science is learning that the earliest acts of human
beings are also derived from remote habits formed in
anterior activities, and stored away in the unconscious
memory. Herbert Spencer, the philosopher of evolution,
speaks of a constant energy manifesting itself
through all transformations. This is the one life
which runs eternally in protean shapes.
The measure of our acquisition of conceptions from
the outer universe resides in the senses. There is no
evidence that these have always been five. Nature,
never taking a leap, must have put us through all the
lower stages before she placed us at our present position.
And since nature contains many substances
and powers which are partially or wholly beyond
these senses, some of which powers are known to
29other animals, we must assume that our present ascending
development will introduce us to higher levels
in which the soul shall have as many senses as correspond
with the powers of nature.[4]
4. A much more weighty argument is that the nature
of the soul requires reincarnation. The conscious
soul cannot feel itself to have had any beginning, any
more than it can conceive of annihilation. The sense
of persistence overwhelms all the interruptions of forgetfulness
and sleep, and all the obstacles of matter.
This incessant self-assurance suggests the idea of the
soul being independent of the changing body, its temporary
prison. Then follows the conception that, as
the soul has once appeared in human form, so it may
reappear in many others. The eternity of the soul,
past and present, leads directly to an innumerable succession
of births and deaths, disembodiments and reembodiments.
The identity of the soul surely does not consist in
a remembrance of all its past. We are always forgetting
ourselves and waking again to recognition.
But the sense of individuality bridges all the gaps.
In the same way it seems as if our present existence
were a somnambulent condition into which we have
drowsed from an earlier life, being sleepily oblivious
of that former activity, and from which we may after
a while be roused into wakefulness.
The study of infant psychology confirms this. The
nature and extent of the mental furniture with which
30we begin life, apart from all experience of this world,
has obliged many thinkers to resort to preëxistence
as the necessary explanation.
A careful examination of the rarer facts of life,
noticeably those found in dreams, trances, and analogous
phenomena, demonstrates that our complete life
is largely independent of the body, and consists in a
perpetual transfer of the sensuous experiences of
self-consciousness into a supersensuous unconsciousness.
But this higher storehouse of character might
more truly be called our real consciousness, although
we are not ordinarily cognizant of it, for it comprises
our habits, instincts, and tendencies. This is the essential
character of the soul and must persist after
death. Now, unless all our earthly possibilities are
exhausted in one life, these inherent material qualities
of our spiritual nature will find expression in a
plurality of earthly existences. And if the purpose
of life be the acquisition of experience, it would be
unreasonable to suppose a final transfer elsewhere before
a full knowledge of earth has been gained. It is
apparent that one life cannot accomplish this, even in
the longest and most diverse career,—to say nothing
of the short average, and the curtailed allowance
given to the majority. If one earth life answers for
all, what a tiny experience suffices for the immense
masses who prematurely die as children! Men are
willing enough to believe in an eternity of spiritual
development after this world; but is it consistent
with the thought of Omnipotence to consider that the
Divine plan is achieved in preparing for that by a few
swift years in one body? In devoting eternity to our
education, the infinite Teacher surely will not put us
into the highest grade of all until we have well mastered
the lessons of all the lower classes.
31The philosophy of “innate ideas” is an admission
of earlier lives than the present. The intuitionalists
emphatically regard the concepts of cause, substance,
time, and space as existing in the mind independent
of experience. The sensationalists consider
them entirely due to our sensations. The Spencerian
evolutionalists occupy a middle ground and call them
a mental heredity resulting from the experience of
the race. It has been well shown, as Edgar Fawcett
says, by two impartial critics, that this controversy
cannot be solved by any agreement of Western psychologists.
Buckle inveighs against these discordant systems
as having “thrown the study of the mind into
a confusion only to be compared to that in which the
study of religion has been thrown by the controversies
of the theologians.”[5] And George Henry Lewes, in
his “History of Philosophy,” deplores this perplexing
condition of metaphysics. The solution of the
problem comes, along with reincarnation, from the
eastern students, who assert that a true conception of
the soul is discovered only by the culture of supersensuous
faculties. They concede a portion of truth
to both extreme schools, declaring that the primary
acquisition of such ideas was gained by sensation, but
that at present they are innate in the infant mind.
They are now the generalized experience of former
existences rising again into consciousness.
The restlessness of our spirits points to ancient
habits of varied action. And a still more forcible indication
is the diversity of character in the same person.
These wavering uncertainties and contraries in
each one of us, which strive for the mastery and are
never crushed even by the sternest fixity of habit—rendering
32the best of us amenable to temptations, and
making the strongest vacillate, may well result from
meanderings in numerous characters. The main trend
of our natures is still often distracted into old forgotten
ways.
5. Reincarnation provides a complete answer to
the most perplexing problem of theology,—original
sin. Properly this point belongs to the preceding section,
but its importance justifies a separate mention.
The endless controversies centering upon this question
show how Christian metaphysics have vainly wrestled
with a Gordian knot which cannot possibly be untied
from the standpoint considering this life the initial and
only earthly one,—a knot which reincarnation not
simply cuts, but reveals how it was made. Between the
extreme dogmas of Pelagius, who maintained that all
men are born in a state of innocence and may therefore
live without sin, and of Augustine, who held the total
depravity of mankind, arising from their transgression
in Adam and their absolute bondage to the devil, there
has raged a continual warfare, which has divided
Christendom into many sects of thought on this leading
doctrine. The modern church creeds still range themselves
in conflicting battalions, following the discussions
during the Reformation between Erasmus, who
denied the power of hereditary sin over free will, and
Luther, who insisted that the race is completely in
the devil’s power by nature. By far the largest part
of the Christian world professedly adheres to the latter
faith,—that men are born entirely corrupt. Even
the Arminians, Quakers, and liberal denominations
who admit only a germ of sin in humanity are at a
loss to account it. The ordinary theological explanation
which derives our sin from the transgression of
33Adam, as apparently taught by St. Paul, although
tacitly held by most of the churches and expressed in
the majority of creeds, grates so severely on the inner
consciousness and common sense that it does not
answer the real difficulty. There is a general agreement
among mankind, upon which the codes of practical
life are based, that Adam’s responsibility for our
sin is only a makeshift of the theologians: for every
sensible man knows that no one but the individual
himself can be blamed for his wrong-doing. Adam
is accepted as a fable for our older selves. Dismissing
all the interminable arguments of theology, which only
obscure truth in a cloud of intellectual wranglings,
the broad foundation of ethics, grounded in our best
instincts, attached sin somehow, though inexplainably,
to the sinner; and the only sufficient explanation
traces its beginning to earlier lives.
The moral character of children, especially the occurrence
of evil in them long before it could have
been implanted by this existence, has forced acute
observers to assume that the human spirit has made
choice of evil in a pre-natal sphere similar to this.
Every one who knows children rejects the Pelagian
theory of their immaculate innocence. As soon as
they have the power to do wrong, without any teaching
the wrong is done as a natural proceeding.
The germ of sin springs up from some old sowing.
But the Augustinian doctrine is equally untrue to human
nature. The most incorrigible tendency to evil
in an uninfluenced child cannot conceal the good
within it, but merely indicates that former ill habits
are working themselves out. The depraved criminal
at last sees his own folly when his course of sin is run,
and becomes so weary of it that the next lease of life
34must be on a better plan. So evil is discovered to be
good in the making, and vice is virtue in the strengthening.
Every person at some stage of growth awakens
to the recognition of sin within him, and is certain
that it is so radical as to reach back of all his present
life, although it is surely foreign to his true nature.
We all feel ourselves to have bounded into life like a
stag carrying a panther which must be shaken off.
Theology attempts to account for this by Adam’s sin
entailing a hereditary depravity. But our inmost
consciousness agrees with the common sense of mankind
in holding us alone responsible for our tendency
to wrong. Remorse seizes us for the inexplicable evil
in us. The only solution is that of the parasite in the
butterfly. The insect allowed the pest to enter when
it was a worm. This blighted condition cannot be the
original state of man. It must be the result of the
human will resisting the divine, and choosing wrong
in old existences beyond recollection.
A masterly expression of this thought nourished the
childhood of Christianity in the teaching of Origen,[6]
and flourished with wholesome influence until it was
forcibly crushed out of popularity by the Council of
Constantinople, to make room for the harsh dogmas
which have since darkened the rationale of Christianity.
It never was intelligently met and conquered, but
was summarily ousted as incompatible with the weight
of prejudice. The same treatment of it appears in
Dr. Hodge’s “Systematic Theology” (under the section
on Preëxistence). That it is in harmony with
Scripture has been shown by Henry More, Soame Jenyns,
Chevalier Ramsay, and Professor Bowen, from
35whom quotations are given in chapter iv., and by other
writers mentioned at the close of this book. Julius
Müller,[7] Lessing,[8] Edward Beecher,[9] Coleridge, and
Kant[10] also sustain it from a religio-philosophical
ground. It is the only rational explanation of the
theological idea of sin.
The same is true regarding the church’s dogma of
future punishments and rewards. A reasonable consideration
fails to understand how the jump can be made
from this condition of things to an eternity of either
suffering or bliss—as ordinary theology demands.
The Roman Catholics recognized this difficulty sufficiently
to provide Purgatory, and in that tenet they
meet the sense of humanity. Reincarnation simply
says that there are many purgatories, and one is
earth. The more rational Protestants get around the
incongruity by permitting many grades of existence in
heaven and hell, which approaches the same solution.
Reincarnation says also, there are infinite degrees of
heaven and hell, and many of them slope down through
this life. It is inconceivable how earthly natures
(and most of human souls are such) can find their penalties
and their rewards elsewhere than on some kind of
earth. The scheme of the universe presents everywhere
a simple and sublime habit of keeping affinities
together, and it certainly seems as if the same economy
could apply to souls as to atoms. This idea meets
better than any other the principles that punishment
36for sin cannot continue longer than the sin continues,
and that the everlasting mercy of the Supreme will provide
some final release for his erring children.
6. Reincarnation explains many curious experiences.
Most of us have known the touches of feeling and
thought that seem to be reminders of forgotten things.
Sometimes as dim dreams of old scenes, sometimes as
vivid lightning flashes in the darkness recalling distant
occurrences, sometimes with unutterable depth of meaning.
It appears as if nature’s opiate which ushered us
here had been so diluted that it did not quite efface the
old memories, and reason struggles to decipher the vestiges
of a former state. Almost every one has felt the
sense of great age. Thinking of some unwonted subject
often an impression seizes us that somewhere, long
ago, we have had these reflections before. Learning
a fact, meeting a face for the first time, we are puzzled
with an obscure sense that it is familiar. Traveling
newly in strange places we are sometimes haunted
with a consciousness of having been there already.
Music is specially apt to guide us into mystic depths,
where we are startled with the flashing reminiscences
of unspeakable verities which we have felt or seen
ages since. Efforts of thought reveal the half-obliterated
inscriptions on the tablets of memory, passing before
the vision in a weird procession. Every one has
some such experiences. Most of them are blurred and
obscure. But some are so remarkably distinct that
those who undergo them are convinced that their sensations
are actual recollections of events and places in
former lives. It is even possible for certain persons
to trace thus quite fully and clearly a part of their bygone
history prior to this life.
Sir Walter Scott was so impressed by these experiences
37that they led him to a belief in preëxistence.
In his diary was entered this circumstance, February 17,
1828: “I cannot, I am sure, tell if it is worth marking
down, that yesterday, at dinner time, I was
strangely haunted by what I would call the sense of
preëxistence, viz. a confused idea that nothing that
passed was said for the first time; that the same topics
had been discussed and the same persons had stated
the same opinions on them.... The sensation was
so strong as to resemble what is called a mirage in the
desert and a calenture on board ship.... It was
very distressing yesterday, and brought to my mind
the fancies of Bishop Berkeley about an ideal world.
There was a vile sense of unreality in all I said or
did.”[11] That this was not due to the strain upon his
later years is evident from the fact that the same experience
is referred to in one of his earliest novels, where
this “sentiment of preëxistence” was first described.
In “Guy Mannering,” Henry Bertram says: “Why
is it that some scenes awaken thoughts which belong,
as it were, to dreams of early and shadowy recollections,
such as old Brahmin moonshine would have
ascribed to a state of previous existence. How often
do we find ourselves in society which we have never
before met, and yet feel impressed with a mysterious
and ill-defined consciousness that neither the scene
nor the speakers nor the subject are entirely new;
nay, feel as if we could anticipate that part of the conversation
which has not yet taken place.”
Bulwer-Lytton describes it as “that strange kind of
inner and spiritual memory which often recalls to us
places and persons we have never seen before, and
which Platonists would resolve to be the unquenched
38and struggling consciousness of a former life.” Again,
in “Godolphin” (chapter xv.), he writes: “How
strange is it that at times a feeling comes over us as we
gaze upon certain places, which associates the scene
either with some dim-remembered and dreamlike images
of the Past, or with a prophetic and fearful omen
of the Future.... Every one has known a similar
strange and indistinct feeling at certain times and
places, and with a similar inability to trace the cause.”
Edgar A. Poe writes (in “Eureka”): “We walk
about, amid the destinies of our world existence, accompanied
by dim but ever present memories of a Destiny
more vast—very distant in the bygone time and infinitely
awful.... We live out a youth peculiarly
haunted by such dreams, yet never mistaking them
for dreams. As memories we know them. During
our youth the distinctness is too clear to deceive us
even for a moment. But the doubt of manhood dispels
these feelings as illusions.”
Explicit occurrences of this class are found in the
narratives of Hawthorne, Willis, Coleridge, De
Quincey, and many other writers. A striking instance
appears in a little memoir of the late William Hone, the
Parodist, upon whom the experience made such a profound
effect that it roused him from thirty years of
materialistic atheism to a conviction of the soul’s independence
of matter. Being called in business to a
house in a part of London entirely new to him, he kept
noticing that he had never been that way before.
“I was shown,” he says, “into a room to wait. On
looking around, to my astonishment everything appeared
perfectly familiar to me: I seemed to recognize
every object. I said to myself, what is this? I was
never here before and yet I have seen all this, and if
39so, there is a very peculiar knot in the shutter.” He
opened the shutter, and there was the knot.
The experience of many persons supports this truth.
The sacred Hindu books contain many detailed histories
of transmigration. Kapila is said to have written
out the Vedas from his recollection of them in a
former life. The Vishnu Purana furnishes some entertaining
instances of memory retained through successive
lives. Pythagoras is related to have remembered
his former existences in the persons of a herald
named Æthalides, Euphorbus the Trojan, Hermotimus
of Clazomenæ, and others. It is stated that he
pointed out in the temple of Juno, at Argos, the shield
with which, as Euphorbus, he attacked Patroclus in
the Trojan war. The life of Apollonius of Tyana
gives some extraordinary examples of his recognitions
of persons he had known in preceding lives.
All these cases are considered fictions by most people,
because they trespass the limits of historical accuracy.
But there are many facts in our own time that point
in the same direction. The Druses have no doubt
that this life follows many others. A Druse boy explained
his terror at the discharge of a gun by saying,
“I was born murdered;” that is, the soul of a man
who had been shot entered into his body. A scholarly
friend of the writer is satisfied that he once lived
among the mountains before his present life, for,
though born in a flat country destitute of pines, his
first young entrance to a wild pine-grown mountain district
roused the deepest sense of familiarity and homelikeness.
And his last life, he thinks, was as a woman,
because of certain commanding feminine traits which
continually assert themselves. And this in spite of
an apparently strong masculine nature, which never
excites a suspicion of effeminacy.
40Another friend of the writer says that his only
child, a little girl now deceased, often referred to a
younger sister of whom he knew nothing. When corrected
with the assurance that she had no sister, she
would reply, “Oh, yes, I have! I have a little baby
sister in heaven!” The same gentleman tells this
anecdote of a neighbor’s family where the subject of
reincarnation is never mentioned. A group of children
was playing in the house at a counting game
while their mother watched them. When they reached
one hundred they started again at one and climbed
up the numbers once more. The brightest boy commented
on the proceeding: “We count ten, twenty,
thirty, and so on to a hundred. Then we get through
and begin all over. Mamma! That’s the way people
do. They go on and on till they come to the end,
and then they begin over again. I hope I’ll have you
for a mamma again the next time I begin.” Lawrence
Oliphant gives in “Blackwood’s Magazine” for
January, 1881, a remarkable account of a child who
remembered experiences of previous lives.
A writer in “Notes and Queries,” second series,
vol. iv. p. 157, says, “A gentleman of high intellectual
attainments, now deceased, once told me that he had
dreamed of being in a strange city, so vividly that he
remembered the streets, houses, and public buildings
as distinctly as those of any place he ever visited. A
few weeks afterward he was induced to visit a panorama
in Leicester Square, when he was startled by
seeing the city of which he had dreamed. The likeness
was perfect except that one additional church appeared
in the picture. He was so struck by the circumstance
that he spoke to the exhibitor, assuming
for his purpose the air of a traveler acquainted with
41the place. He was informed that the additional
church was a recent erection.” It is difficult to account
for such a fact by the hypothesis of the double
structure of the brain, or by clairvoyance.
In Lord Lindsay’s description of the valley of
Kadisha (“Letters,” p. 351, ed. 1847) he says: “We
saw the river Kadisha descending from Lebanon. The
whole scene bore that strange and shadowy resemblance
to the wondrous landscape in ‘Kubla Khan’
that one so often feels in actual life, when the whole
scene around you appears to be reacting after a long
interval. Your friends seated in the same juxtaposition,
the subjects of conversation the same, and shifting
with the same dreamlike ease, that you remember
at some remote and indefinite period of preëxistence;
you always know what will come next, and sit spellbound,
as it were, in a sort of calm expectancy.”
Dickens, in his “Pictures from Italy,” mentions this
instance, on his first sight of Ferrara: “In the foreground
was a group of silent peasant girls, leaning
over the parapet of the little bridge, looking now up
at the sky, now down into the water; in the distance
a deep dell; the shadow of an approaching
night on everything. If I had been murdered there
in some former life I could not have seemed to remember
the place more thoroughly, or with more emphatic
chilling of the blood; and the real remembrance
of it acquired in that minute is so strengthened
by the imaginary recollection that I hardly think I
could forget it.”
A passage in the story of “The Wool-gatherer”
shows that James Hogg, the author, shared the same
feeling and attributed it to an earlier life on earth.
N. P. Willis wrote a story of himself as the reincarnation
42of an Austrian artist, narrating how he discovered
his previous personality, in “Dashes at Life,”
under the title “A Revelation of a Previous Existence.”
D. G. Rossetti does the same in his story
“St. Agnes of Intercession.”
The well-known lecturer, Eugene Ashton, recently
contributed to a Cincinnati paper these two anecdotes:—
“At a dinner party in New York, recently, a lady,
who is one of New York’s most gifted singers, said to
one of the guests: ‘In some reincarnation I hope to
perfect my voice, which I feel is now only partially
developed. So long as I do not attain the highest
of which my soul is capable I shall be returned to the
flesh to work out what nature intended me to do.’
‘But, madam, if you expect incarnations, have you
any evidence of past ones?’ ‘Of that I cannot
speak positively. I can recall dimly things which
seem to have happened to me when I was in the flesh
before. Often I go to places which are new to the
present personality, but they are not new to my soul;
I am sure that I have been there before.’
“A Southern literary woman, who now lives in Brooklyn,
speaking of her former incarnations, says: ‘I
am sure that I have lived in some past time; for instance,
when I was at Heidelberg, Germany, attending
a convention of Mystics, in company with some friends
I paid my first visit to the ruined Heidelberg Castle.
As I approached it I was impressed with the existence
of a peculiar room in an inaccessible portion of the
building. A paper and pencil were provided me, and
I drew a diagram of the room even to its peculiar
floor. My diagram and description were perfect,
when we afterwards visited the room. In some way
43not yet clear to me I have been connected with that
apartment. Still another impression came to me
with regard to a book, which I was made to feel was
in the old library of the Heidelberg University. I
not only knew what the book was, but even felt that
a certain name of an old German professor would be
found written in it. Communicating this feeling to
one of the Mystics at the convention, a search was
made for the volume, but it was not found. Still the
impression clung to me, and another effort was made
to find the book; this time we were rewarded for our
pains. Sure enough, there on the margin of one of
the leaves was the very name I had been given in
such a strange manner. Other things at the same
time went to convince me that I was in possession of
the soul of a person who had known Heidelberg two
or three centuries ago.’”
The writer knows a gentleman who has repeatedly
felt a vivid sense of some one striking his skull with
an axe, although nothing in his own experience or in
that of his family explains it. An extraordinary person
to whom he had never hinted the matter once surprised
him by saying that his previous life was closed
by murder in that very way. Another acquaintance
is sure that some time ago he was a Hindu, and recollects
several remarkable incidents of that life.
Objectors ascribe these enigmas to a jumble of associations
producing a blurred vision,—like the drunkard’s
experience of seeing double, a discordant remembrance,
snatches of forgotten dreams,—or to the
double structure of the brain. In one of the lobes,
they say, the thought flashes a moment in advance of
the other, and the second half of the thinking machine
regards the first impression as a memory of something
44long distant.[12] But this explanation is unsatisfactory,
as it fails to account for the wonderful vividness of some
of these impressions in well-balanced minds, or the
long trains of thought which come independent of any
companions, or the prophetic glimpses which anticipate
actual occurrences. Far more credible is it that each
soul is a palimpsest inscribed again and again with
one story upon another, and whenever the all-wise Author
is ready to write a grander page on us He washes
off the old ink and pens his latest word. But some of
us can trace here and there letters of the former manuscript
not yet effaced.
A contributor to the “Penn Monthly,” of September,
1875, refers to the hypothesis of double mental
vision as supposed to account for most of these
instances, and then concludes: “Such would be my
inference as regards ordinary cases of this sort of reminiscence,
especially when they are observed to accompany
any impaired health of the organs of mental
action. But there are more extraordinary instances
of this mental phenomenon, of which I can give no explanation.
Three of these have fallen within my own
range of observation. A friend’s child of about four
years old was observed by her older sister to be talking
to herself about matters of which she could not be
supposed to know anything. ‘Why, W——,’ exclaimed
the older sister, ‘what do you know about
that? All that happened before you were born!’
‘I would have you know, L——, that I grew old in
heaven before I was born.’ I do not quote this as if
45it explained what the child meant it to explain, but as
a curious statement from the mouth of one too young
to have ever heard of preëxistence, or to have inferred
it from any ambiguous mental experiences of her own.
The second case is that of the presence of inexplicable
reminiscences, or what seem such in dreams. As
everybody knows, the stuff which dreams are ordinarily
made of is the every-day experience of life, which we
cast into new and fantastic combinations, whose laws
of arrangement and succession are still unknown to
us. In the list of my acquaintances is a young married
lady, a native of Philadelphia, who is repeatedly but
not habitually carried back in her dreams to English
society of the eighteenth century, seemingly of the
times of George II., and to a social circle somewhat
above that in which she now lives. Her acquaintance
with literature is not such as to give her the least clue
to the matter, and the details she furnishes are not
such as would be gathered from books of any class.
The dress, especially the lofty and elaborate headdresses
of the ladies, their slow and stately minuet
dancing, the deference of the servants to their superiors,
the details of the stiff, square brick houses, in
one of which she was surprised to find a family
chapel with mural paintings and a fine organ—all
these she describes with the sort of detail possible to
one who has actually seen them, and not in the fashion
in which book-makers write about them. Yet another,
a more wide-awake experience, is that of a friend, who
remembers having died in youth and in India. He
sees the bronzed attendants gathered about his cradle
in their white dresses; they are fanning him. And
as they gaze he passes into unconsciousness. Much of
his description concerned points of which he knew
46nothing from any other source, but all was true to
the life, and enabled me to fix on India as the scene
which he recalled.”
7. The strongest support of reincarnation is its happy
solution of the problem of moral inequality and injustice
and evil which otherwise overwhelms us as we
survey the world. The seeming chaos is marvelously
set in order by the idea of soul-wandering. Many a
sublime intellect has been so oppressed with the topsy-turviness
of things here as to cry out, “There is no
God. All is blind chance.” An exclusive view of
the miseries of mankind, the prosperity of wickedness,
the struggles of the deserving, the oppression of the
masses, or, on the other hand, the talents and successes
and happiness of the fortunate few, compels one
to call the world a sham without any moral law. But
that consideration yields to a majestic satisfaction
when one is assured that the present life is only one
of a grand series in which every individual is gradually
going the round of infinite experience for a glorious
outcome,—that the hedging ills of to-day are a
consequence of what we did yesterday and a step
toward the great things of to-morrow. Thus the
tangled snarls of earthly phenomena are straightened
out as a vast and beautiful scheme, and the total experience
of humanity forms a magnificent tapestry of
perfect poetic justice.
The crucial test of any hypothesis is whether it
meets all the facts better than any other theory. No
other view so admirably accounts for the diversity of
conditions on earth, and refutes the charge of favoritism
on the part of Providence. Hierocles said,
and many a philosopher before and since has agreed
with him, “Without the doctrine of metempsychosis
47it is not possible to justify the ways of God.” Some
of the theologians have found the idea of preëxistence
necessary to a reasonable explanation of the world,
although it is considered foreign to the Bible. Over
thirty years ago, Dr. Edward Beecher published
“The Conflict of Ages,” in which the main argument
is this thought. He demonstrates that the facts of
sin and depravity compel the acceptance of this doctrine
to exonerate God from the charge of maliciousness.
His book caused a lively controversy, and was
soon followed by “The Concord of Ages,” in which
he answers the objections and strengthens his position.
The same truth is taught by Dr. Julius Müller,
a German theologian of prodigious influence among
the clergy. Another prominent leader of theological
thought, Dr. Dorner, sustains it.
We conclude, therefore, that reincarnation is necessitated
by immortality, that analogy teaches it,
that science upholds it, that the nature of the soul
needs it, that many strange sensations support it,
and that it alone grandly solves the problem of life.
The fullness of its meaning is majestic beyond appreciation,
for it shows that every soul, from the
lowest animal to the highest archangel, belongs to
the infinite family of God and is eternal in its conscious
essence, perishing only in its temporary disguises;
that every act of every creature is followed
by infallible reactions which constitute a perfect law
of retribution; and that these souls are intricately interlaced
with mutual relationships. The bewildering
maze thus becomes a divine harmony. No individual
stands alone, but trails with him the unfinished sequels
of an ancestral career, and is so bound up with
his race that each is responsible for all and all for
48each. No one can be wholly saved until all are redeemed.
Every suffering we endure apparently for
faults not our own assumes a holy light and a sublime
dignity. This thought removes the littleness of petty
selfish affairs and confirms in us the vastest hopes for
mankind.
III. OBJECTIONS TO REINCARNATION.
49
50Man has an Eternal Father who sent him to reside and gain experience
in the animal principles.—Paracelsus.
God, who takes millions of years to form a soul that shall understand
Him, and be blessed; who never needs to be and never is, in
haste; who welcomes the simplest thought of truth or beauty as the
return for seed he has sown upon the old fallows of eternity.—George
Macdonald.
It may be doubted whether the strangeness and improbability of
this hypothesis (preëxistence ) among ourselves arises after all from
grounds on which our philosophy has reason to congratulate itself. It
may be questioned whether, if we examine ourselves candidly, we
shall not discover that the feeling of extravagance with which it
affects us has its secret source in materialistic or semi-materialistic
prejudices.—Professor William Archer Butler’sLectures on
Platonic Philosophy.
Might not the human memory be compared to a field of sepulture,
thickly stocked with the remains of many generations? But of these
thousands whose dust heaves the surface, a few only are saved from
immediate oblivion, upon tablets and urns; while the many are, at
present, utterly lost to knowledge. Nevertheless each of the dead
has left in that soul an imperishable germ; and all, without distinction,
shall another day start up, and claim their dues.—Isaac
Taylor.
The absence of memory of any actions done in a previous state
cannot be a conclusive argument against our having lived through it.
Forgetfulness of the past may be one of the conditions of an entrance
upon a new stage of existence. The body which is the organ of
sense-perception may be quite as much a hindrance as a help to remembrance.
In that case casual gleams of memory, giving us sudden
abrupt and momentary revelations of the past, are precisely the
phenomena we would expect to meet with. If the soul has preëxisted,
what we would a priori anticipate are only some faint traces of recollection
surviving in the crypts of memory.—Professor William
Knight.
51
III.
OBJECTIONS TO REINCARNATION.
There are four leading objections to the idea of re-births:—
1. That we have no memory of past lives.
2. That it is unjust for us to receive now the results
of forgotten deeds enacted long ago.
3. That heredity confutes it.
4. That it is an uncongenial doctrine.
1. Why do we not remember something of our previous
lives, if we have really been through them?
The reason why there is no universal conviction
from this ground seems to be that birth is so violent
as to scatter all the details and leave only the net
spiritual result. As Plotinus said, “Body is the true
river of Lethe; for souls plunged into it forget all.”
The real soul life is so distinct from the material
plane that we have difficulty in retaining many experiences
of this life. Who recalls all his childhood?
And has any one a memory of that most wonderful
epoch—infancy?
Nature sometimes shows us what may be the initial
condition of a man’s next life in depriving him of
his life’s experience, and returning him to a second
childhood, with only the character acquired during
52life for his inseparable fortune. The great and good
prelate Frederick Christian von Oetingen of Würtemberg
(1702–1782) became in his old age a devout
and innocent child, after a long life of usefulness.
Gradually speech died away, until for three years he
was dumb. Leaving his study, where he had written
many edifying books, and his library, whose volumes
were now sealed to him, he would go to the streets
and join the children in their plays, and spend all his
time sharing their delights. The profound scholar
was stripped of his intellect and became a venerable
boy, lovable and kind as in all his busy life. He had
bathed in the river of Lethe before his time. Similar
cases might be produced, where the spirits of strong
men have been divested of a lifetime’s memory in
aged infancy, seeming to be a foretaste of the next
existence. They show that the loss of a life’s details
does not appear strange to nature, and that the nepenthic
waters of Styx, which the ancients represented
as imbibed by souls about to reënter earthly life to
dispel recollection of former experiences, are not
wholly fabulous.
“Memory of the details of the past is absolutely
impossible. The power of the conservative faculty
though relatively great is extremely limited. We
forget the larger portion of experience soon after we
have passed through it, and we should be able to recall
the particulars of our past years, filling all the
missing links of consciousness since we entered on the
present life, before we were in a position to remember
our ante-natal experience. Birth must necessarily
be preceded by crossing the river of oblivion, while
the capacity for fresh acquisition survives, and the
53garnered wealth of old experience determines the
amount and character of the new.”[13]
But it has been shown that there are traces of
former existences lingering in some memories. These
and other exceptional departures from the general
rule furnish substantial evidence that the obliteration
of previous lives from our consciousness is only apparent.
Sleep, somnambulism, trance, and similar
conditions open up a world of supersensuous reality
to illustrate how erroneous are our common notions of
memory. Experimental evidence demonstrates that
we actually forget nothing, though for long lapses we
are unable to recall what is stored away in the chambers
of our soul; and that the Orientals may be right
in affirming that as a man’s lives become purer he is
able to look backward upon previous stages, and at
last will view the long vista of the æons by which he
has ascended to God. Many cases reveal that the
reach and clearness of memory are greatly increased
during sleep and still more greatly during somnambulent
trance; so much so that the memory of some
sleepings and of most trances is sufficiently distinct
from the memory of the same individual in waking
consciousness, to seem the faculty of a different
person. And, while the memory of sensuous consciousness
does not retain the facts of the trance
condition, the memory of the trance state retains and
includes all the facts of the sensuous consciousness—exemplifying
the superior and unsuspected powers
of our unconscious selves. Instances are frequent
illustrating how the higher consciousness faithfully
stores away experiences which are thought to be long
54forgotten until some vivid touch brings them forth
in accurate order.[14] The higher recollection and the
lower sometimes conduct us through a double life.
Dreams that vanish during the day are resumed at
night in an unbroken course. There is an interesting
class of cases on record in which the memory
which links our successive dual states of consciousness
into a united whole is so completely wanting that in
observing only the difference between the two phases
of the same person we describe it as “alternating consciousness.”
These go far toward an empirical proof
that one individual can become two distinct persons
in succession, making a practical demonstration of
reincarnation. Baron Du Prel’s “Philosophie der
Mystik” cites a number of such authentic instances,
of which the following is one, given by Dr. Mitchell
in “Archiv für thierischen Magnetismus,” IV.
55“Miss R—— enjoyed naturally perfect health, and
reached womanhood without any serious illness. She
was talented, and gifted with a remarkably good
memory, and learned with great ease. Without any
previous warning she fell one day into a deep sleep
which lasted many hours, and on awakening she had
forgotten every bit of her former knowledge, and her
memory had become a complete tabula rasa. She
again learned to spell, read, write, and reckon, and
made rapid progress. Some few months afterward
she again fell into a similarly prolonged slumber, from
which she awoke to her former consciousness, i. e., in
the same state as before her first long sleep, but
without the faintest recollection of the existence or
events of the intervening period. This double existence
now continued, so that in a single subject
there occurred a regular alternation of two perfectly
distinct personalities, each being unconscious of the
other, and possessing only the memories and knowledge
acquired in previous corresponding states.”
More singular still are cases in which one individual
becomes two interchanging persons, of whom one is
wholly unconnected with the known history of that individual,
like that narrated in Mr. Stevenson’s story
of “The Adventures of Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde,” and
Julian Hawthorne’s story of “Archibald Malmaison.”
The newspapers recently published an account of a
Boston clergyman, who strangely disappeared from
his city, leaving no trace of his destination. Just before
going away he drew some money from the bank,
and for weeks his family and friends heard nothing of
him, though he had previously been most faithful.
Soon after his departure a stranger turned up in a
Pennsylvania town and bought out a certain store,
56which he conducted very industriously for some time.
At length a delirious illness seized him. One day he
awoke from it and asked his nurse, “Where am I?”
“You are in ——,” she said. “How did I get
here? I belong in Boston.” “You have lived here
for three months and own Mr. ——’s store,” replied
his attendant. “You are mistaken, madam; I am the
Rev. ——, pastor of the —— church in Boston.”
Three months were an absolute blank. He had no
memory of anything since drawing the money at his
bank. Returning home, he there resumed the broken
line of his ministerial life and continued in that character
without further interruption.
Numerous similar cases are recorded in the annals
of psychological medicine, and justify us in assuming,
according to the law of correspondences, that some
such alternation of consciousness occurs after the
great change known as death. The attempt to explain
them as mental aberrations is wholly unsuccessful.
Reincarnation shows them to be exceptions proving
the rule—the recall of former activities supposed
to be forgotten. In these examples of double identity
the facts of each state disappear when the other set
come forward and are resumed again in their turn.
Where did they reside meanwhile? They must have
been preserved in a subtler organ than the brain,
which is only the medium of translation from that unconscious
memory to the world of sense-perception.
This must be in the supersensuous part of the soul.
This provides that, as a slow and painful training leads
to unconscious habits of skill, so the experience of
life is stored up in the higher memory, and becomes,
when assimilated, the reflex acts of the following life,—those
operations which we call instinctive and hereditary.
572. The question is raised, is it just that a man
should suffer for what he is not conscious of having
done?
As just as that he should enjoy the results of what
he does not remember causing. It is said that justice
requires that the offender be conscious of the fault
for which he is punished. But the ideas of justice
between man and man cannot be applied to the all-wise
operations of the Infinite. In human attempts at
justice that method is imperative because of our liability
to mistake. God’s justice is vindicated by the
undisturbed sway of the law of causation. If I suffer
it must be for what I have done. The faith in Providence
demands this, and it is because of unbelief in
reincarnation that the seeming negligence on the part
of Providence has obliterated the idea of a Personal
God from many minds. Nature is the arena of infallible
cause and effect, and there is no such absurdity
in the universe as an effect without a responsible
cause. A man may suffer from a disease in ignorance
of the conditions under which its germs were sown in
his body, but the right sequence of cause and effect is
not imperiled by his ignorance. To doubt that the
experiences we now enjoy and endure properly belong
to us by our own choice is to abandon the idea of
God. How and why they have come is explained
only by reincarnation. The universal Over-Soul
makes no mistakes. By veiling our memories the
Mother Heart of all, mercifully saves us the horror
and burden of knowing all the myriad steps by which
we have become what we are. We would be staggered
by the sight of all our waywardness, and what
we have done well is possessed more richly in the
grand total than would be possible in the infinite details.
58We are in the hands of a generous omniscient
banker, who says: “I will save you all the trouble of
the accounts. Whenever you are ready to start a new
folio, I will strike the balance and turn over your net
proceeds with all accrued interests. The itemized records
of your deposits and spendings are beyond your
calculation.”
3. It may be claimed that the facts of heredity bear
against reincarnation. As the physical, mental, and
moral peculiarities of children come from the parents,
how can it be possible that a man is what he makes
himself—the offspring of his own previous lives?
Science is certain of the tendency of every organism
to transmit its own qualities to its descendants, and
the intricate web of ancestral influences is assumed to
account for all the aberrations of individual life. But
the forces producing this result are beyond the ken of
science. The mechanical theory of germ cells multiplying
their kind is inadequate: for the germs become
more complex and energetic with growth, and exceed
the limitations of molecular physics. The facts
of heredity demand the existence in nature of supersensuous
forces escaping our observation and cognizable
only through their effects on the plane of sensuous
consciousness. These forces residing in the
inaccessible regions of the soul mould all individual
aptitudes and faculties and character. Reincarnation
includes the facts of heredity, by showing that the
tendency of every organism to reproduce its own likeness
groups together similar causes producing similar
effects, in the same lines of physical relation. Instead
of being content with the statement that heredity
causes the resemblances of child to parent, reincarnation
teaches that a similarity of ante-natal development
59has brought about the similarity of embodied
characteristics. The individual soul seeking another
birth finds the path of least resistance in the channels
best adapted to its qualities. The Ego selects its
material body by a choice more wise than any voluntary
selection, by the inherent tendencies of its nature,
in fitness for its need, not only in the particular physique
best suited for its purpose, but in the larger physical
casements of family and nationality. The relation
of child and parent is required by the similarity
of organisms. This view accounts also for the differences
invariably accompanying the resemblances.
Identity of character is impossible, and the conditions
which made it easy for an individual to be born in a
certain family, because of the adaptation of circumstances
there to the expression of portions of his nature,
would not prevent a strong contrast between him
and his relatives in some respects. The facts observed
in the life history of twins show that two individuals
born under precisely identical conditions, and having
exactly the same heredity, sometimes differ completely
in physique, in intellect, and in character. The birth
of geniuses in humble and commonplace circumstances
furnishes abundant evidence that the individual soul
outstrips all the trammels of physical birth; and the
unremarkable children of great parents exhibit the inefficiency
of merely hereditary influences. These conspicuous
violations of the laws of heredity confirm
reincarnation.
4. At the first impression the idea of re-births is
unwelcome, because—
a. It is interlaced with the theory of transmigration
through animals;
b. It destroys the hope of recognizing friends in the
coming existence;
60c. It seems a cold, irreligious notion.
a. As will be fully shown in chapter xii., the conceit
of a transmigration of human souls through animal
bodies, although it has been and is cherished by most
of the believers in reincarnation, is only a gross metaphor
of the germinal truth, and never was received by
the enlightened advocates of plural existences.
b. The most thoughtful adherents of a future life
agree that there must be there some subtler mode of
recognition between friends than physical appearances,
for these outer signs cannot endure in the world of
spirit. The conviction that “whether there be prophecies
they shall fail, whether there be tongues they shall
cease, whether there be knowledge it shall vanish
away,” but “love never faileth,” and only character
shall remain as the means of identification, is precisely
the view entertained by believers in reincarnation.
The most intimate ties of this life cannot be explained
otherwise than as renewals of old intimacies, drawn together
by the spiritual gravitation of love, and enjoying
often the sense of a previous similar experience.
(A further reference to this point will be found later.
See page 295.)
c. The strongest religious natures have been nourished
from time immemorial with the feeling that life
is a pilgrimage through which we tread our darkened
way back to God. The Scriptures are full of it, and
the spiritual manhood of every age has found it a
source of invigoration. From Abraham, who reckoned
his lifetime as “the days of the years of his pilgrimage,”
through all the phases of Christian thought to
the mightiest book of modern Christendom, “The
Pilgrim’s Progress,” this idea has been universally
cherished. A typical expression of it may be seen in
61the mediæval churchyard of St. Martin at Canterbury,
upon a stone over the remains of Dean Alford bearing
these words in Latin, which were inscribed by his own
direction: “The inn of a traveler journeying to Jerusalem.”
Now this pilgrimage philosophy is only a
simpler phrasing of reincarnation. Our theory extends
the journey in just proportion to the supernal
destination, providing many a station by the way,
wherein abiding a few days we may more profitably
traverse the upward road, gathering so much experience
that there will be no occasion to wander again.
Instead of being a cold philosophic hypothesis, reincarnation
is a living unfoldment of that Christian
germ, enlarged to a fullness commensurate with the
needs of men and the character of God. It throbs
with the warmth of deepest piety combined with noblest
intelligence, providing as no other supposition
does, for the grandest development of mankind.
IV. WESTERN PROSE WRITERS ON REINCARNATION.
63
64I seem often clearly to remember in my soul a presentiment which I
have not seen with my present, but with some other eye.—J. E. Von
Schubert.
I produced the golden key of preëxistence only at a dead lift, when
no other method could satisfy me touching the ways of God, that by
this hypothesis I might keep my heart from sinking.—Henry More.
The essences of our souls can never cease to be because they never
began to be, and nothing can live eternally but that which hath lived
from eternity. The essences of our souls were a breath in God before
they became living souls; they lived in God before they lived in the
created souls, and therefore the soul is a partaker of the eternity of
God.—William Law.
If there be no reasons to suppose that we have existed before that
period at which our existence apparently commences, then there are
no grounds for supposing that we shall continue to exist after our existence
has apparently ceased.—Shelley.
The ancient doctrine of transmigration seems the most rational and
most consistent with God’s wisdom and goodness; as by it all the unequal
dispensations of things so necessary in one life may be set right
in another, and all creatures serve the highest and lowest, the most
eligible and most burdensome offices of life by an equitable rotation;
by which means their rewards and punishments may not only be proportioned
to their behavior, but also carry on the business of the universe,
and thus at the same time answer the purposes both of justice
and utility.—Soame Jenyns.
65
IV.
WESTERN PROSE WRITERS ON REINCARNATION.
There is a larger endorsement of reincarnation
among western thinkers than the world knows. In
many of them it springs up spontaneously, while others
embrace it as a luminous ray from the East which
is confirmed by all the candid tests of philosophy.
When Christianity first swept over Europe the inner
thought of its leaders was deeply tinctured with this
truth. The Church tried ineffectually to eradicate it,
and in various sects it kept sprouting forth beyond the
time of Erigena and Bonaventura, its mediæval advocates.
Every great intuitional soul, as Paracelsus,
Boehme, and Swedenborg, has adhered to it. The Italian
luminaries, Giordano Bruno and Campanella, embraced
it. The best of German philosophy is enriched
by it. In Schopenhauer, Lessing, Hegel, Leibnitz,
Herder, and Fichte the younger, it is earnestly advocated.
The anthropological systems of Kant and
Schelling furnish points of contact with it. The
younger Helmont, in “De Revolutione Animarum,” adduces
in two hundred problems all the arguments which
may be urged in favor of the return of souls into
human bodies, according to Jewish ideas. Of English
thinkers the Cambridge Platonists defended it with
much learning and acuteness, most conspicuously Henry
More; and in Cudworth and Hume it ranks as the
66most rational theory of immortality. Glanvil’s “Lux
Orientalis” devotes a curious treatise to it. It captivated
the minds of Fourier and Leroux. André Pezzani’s
book on “The Plurality of the Soul’s Lives”
works out the system on the Roman Catholic idea of
expiation. Modern astronomy has furnished material
for the elaborate speculations of a reincarnation extending
through many worlds, as published in Fontenelle’s
volume “The Plurality of Worlds,” Huygens’s
“Cosmotheoros,” Brewster’s “More Worlds than One;
the Philosopher’s Faith and the Christian’s Hope,”
Jean Reynaud’s “Earth and Heaven,” Flammarion’s
“Stories of Infinity” and “The Plurality of Inhabited
Worlds,” and Figuier’s “The To-morrow of Death.”
With various degrees of fancy and probability these
writers trace the soul’s progress among the heavenly
bodies. The astronomer Bode wrote that we start
from the coldest planet of our solar system and advance
from planet to planet, nearer the sun, where the
most perfect beings, he thinks, will live. Emmanuel
Kant, in his “General History of Nature,” says that
souls start imperfect from the sun, and travel by planet
stages, farther and farther away to a paradise in the
coldest and remotest star of our system. Between
these opposites many savans have formulated other
theories. In theology reincarnation has retained a
firm influence from the days of Origen and Porphyry,
through the scholastics, to the present day. In Soame
Jenyns’s works, which long thrived as the best published
argument for Christianity, it is noticeable. Chevalier
Ramsay and William Law have also written in its defense.
Julius Müller warmly upholds it in his profound
work on “The Christian Doctrine of Sin,” as
well as Dr. Dorner. Another means of its dissemination
67through a good portion of the ministry is Dr. Edward
Beecher’s espousal of it, in the form of preëxistence,
in “The Conflict of Ages” and “The Concord of
Ages.” English and Irish bishops[15] have not hesitated
to promulgate it. Henry Ward Beecher and Phillips
Brooks have dared to preach it. James Freeman
Clarke speaks strongly in its favor. Professor William
Knight, the Scotch metaphysician of St. Andrews, and
Professor Francis Bowen of Harvard University, clearly
show the logical probabilities in which reincarnation
compares favorably with any other philosophy.[16]
The following extracts from the most interesting of
these and other Western authors who refer to the matter
may represent the unsuspected prevalence of this
thought in our own midst.
1. Schopenhauer’s powerful philosophy includes reincarnation
as one of its main principles, as these extracts
show, from his chapter on “Death” in “The
World as Will and Idea”:—[17]
“What sleep is for the individual, death is for the
will [character]. It would not endure to continue the
same actions and sufferings throughout an eternity,
without true gain, if memory and individuality remained
to it. It flings them off, and this is lethe;
and through this sleep of death it reappears refreshed
and fitted out with another intellect, as a new being—‘a
new day tempts to new shores.’”
68“These constant new births, then, constitute the
succession of the life-dreams of a will which in itself
is indestructible, until, instructed and improved by so
much and such various successive knowledge in a constantly
new form, it abolishes or abrogates itself”—[becomes
in perfect harmony with the Infinite].
“It must not be neglected that even empirical
grounds support a palingenesis of this kind. As a
matter of fact, there does exist a connection between
the birth of the newly appearing beings and the death
of those that are worn out. It shows itself in the
great fruitfulness of the human race which appears as
a consequence of devastating diseases. When in the
fourteenth century the Black Death had for the most
part depopulated the old world, a quite abnormal fruitfulness
appeared among the human race, and twin-births
were very frequent. The circumstance was
also remarkable that none of the children born at this
time obtained their full number of teeth; thus nature,
exerting itself to the utmost, was niggardly in details.
This is related by F. Schnurrer, ‘Chronik der Seuchen,’
1825. Casper also, ‘Ueber die Wahrscheinliche
Lebensdauer des Menschen,’ 1835, confirms the
principle that the number of births in a given population
has the most decided influence upon the length of
life and mortality in it, as this always keeps pace with
the mortality: so that always and everywhere the
deaths and the births increase and decrease in like proportion;
which he places beyond doubt by an accumulation
of evidence collected from many lands and their
various provinces. And yet it is impossible that there
can be a physical causal connection between my early
death and the fruitfulness of a marriage with which I
have nothing to do, or conversely. Thus here the
69metaphysical appears undeniable and in a stupendous
manner as the immediate ground of explanation of the
physical. Every new-born being comes fresh and
blithe into the new existence, and enjoys it as a free
gift: but there is, and can be, nothing freely given.
Its fresh existence is paid for by the old age and death
of a worn-out existence which has perished, but which
contained the indestructible seed out of which the new
existence has arisen: they are one being. To show
the bridge between the two would certainly be the solution
of a great riddle.
“The great truth which is expressed here has never
been entirely unacknowledged, although it could not
be reduced to the exact and correct meaning, which is
only possible through the doctrine of the primary and
metaphysical nature of the will, and the secondary,
merely organic nature of the intellect. We find the
doctrine of metempsychosis, springing from the earliest
and noblest ages of the human race, always spread
abroad in the earth as the belief of the great majority
of mankind; nay, really as the teaching of all religions,
with the exception of that of the Jews and the two
which have proceeded from it: in the most subtle form
however, and coming nearest to the truth in Buddhism.
Accordingly, while Christians console themselves
with the thought of meeting again in another
world, in which one regains one’s complete personality
and knows one’s self at once, in those other religions the
meeting again is going on now, only incognito. In
the succession of births, and by virtue of metempsychosis
or palingenesis, the persons who now stand in
close connection or contact with us will also be born
again with us at the next birth, and will have the same
or analogous relations and sentiments towards us as
70now, whether these are of a friendly or a hostile description.
Recognition is certainly here limited to an
obscure intimation,—a reminiscence, which cannot be
brought to distinct consciousness, and refers to an infinitely
distant time; with the exception, however, of
Buddha himself, who has the prerogative of distinctly
knowing his own earlier births and those of others,—as
this is described in the ‘Jâtaka.’ But in fact, if at
a favorable moment one contemplates, in a purely objective
manner, the action of men in reality, the intuitive
conviction is forced upon one that it not only is
and remains constantly the same, according to the
[Platonic] Idea, but also that the present generation,
in its true inner nature, is precisely and substantially
identical with every generation that has been before
it. The question simply is, in what this true being
consists. The answer which my doctrine gives to this
question is well known. The intuitive conviction referred
to may be conceived as arising from the fact
that the multiplying-glasses, time and space, lose for a
moment their effect. With reference to the universality
of the belief in metempsychosis, Obry says
rightly in his excellent book ‘Du Nirvana Indien,’ p.
13, ‘Cette vielle croyance a fait le tour du monde, et
tellement répandue dans la haute antiquité qu’un
docte Anglican l’avait jugée sans père, sans mère, et
sans généalogie.’ Taught already in the ‘Vedas’ as
in all the sacred books of India, metempsychosis is
well known to be the kernel of Brahmanism and Buddhism.
It accordingly prevails at the present day in
the whole of non-Mohammedan Asia, thus among more
than half the whole human race, as the firmest conviction,
and with an incredibly strong practical influence.
It was also the belief of the Egyptians, from whom it
71was received with enthusiasm by Orpheus, Pythagoras,
and Plato. The Pythagoreans, however, specially retained
it. That it was also taught in the mysteries of
the Greeks undeniably follows from the ninth book of
Plato’s Laws. The ‘Edda’ also, especially in the
‘Voluspa,’ teaches metempsychosis. Not less was it
the foundation of the religion of the Druids. Even a
Mohammedan sect in Hindustan, the Bohrahs, of
which Colebrooke gives a full account in the ‘Asiatic
Researches,’ believes in metempsychosis, and accordingly
refrains from all animal food. Also among
American Indians and negro tribes, nay, even among
the natives of Australia, traces of this belief are found....
According to all this the belief in metempsychosis
presents itself as the natural conviction of man
whenever he reflects at all in an unprejudiced manner.
It would really seem to be that which Kant falsely
asserts of his three pretended ideas of the reason, a
philosopheme natural to human reason, which proceeds
from its forms; and when it is not found it must
have been displaced by positive religious doctrines coming
from a different source. I have also remarked that
it is at once obvious to every one who hears of it for
the first time. Let any one only observe how earnestly
Lessing defends it in the last seven paragraphs of his
‘Erziehung des Menschengeschlechts.’[18] Lichtenberg
also says in his ‘Selbstcharacteristik’: ‘I cannot get
rid of the thought that I died before I was born.’
Even the excessively empirical Hume says in his skeptical
essay on immortality, ‘The metempsychosis is
therefore the only system of this kind that philosophy
can hearken to.’ What resists this belief is
Judaism, together with the two religions which have
72sprung from it, because they teach the creation of
man out of nothing, and they have the hard task of
linking on to this belief an endless existence a parte
post. They certainly have succeeded, with fire and
sword, in driving out of Europe and part of Asia that
consoling primitive belief of mankind; it is still doubtful
for how long. Yet how difficult this was is shown
by the oldest church histories. Most of the heretics
were attached to this belief; for example, Simonists,
Basilidians, Valentinians, Marcionists, Gnostics, and
Manicheans. The Jews themselves have in part fallen
into it, as Tertullian and Justinus inform us. In the
Talmud it is related that Abel’s soul passed into the
body of Seth, and then into that of Moses. Even the
passage of the Bible, Matt. xvi, 13–15, only obtains a
rational meaning if we understand it as spoken under
the assumption of the dogma of metempsychosis....
In Christianity, however, the doctrine of original sin,
i. e., the doctrine of punishment for the sins of another
individual, has taken the place of the transmigration
of souls, and the expiation in this way of all
the sins committed in an earlier life. Both identify
the existing man with one who has existed before: the
transmigration of souls does so directly, original sin
indirectly.”
2. In the remarkable little treatise on “The Divine
Education of the Human Race,” by Lessing, the German
philosopher, a book so sublimely simple in its
profound insight that it has had enormous influence
and was translated into English as a labor of love by
the Rev. Frederick W. Robertson, the author outlines
the gradual instruction of mankind and shows how the
enlightenment is still progressing through many important
lessons. His thought mounts to a climax in
73suggesting the stupendous programme by which God
is developing the individual just as he has been educating
the race:—
“The very same way by which the race reaches its
perfection must every individual man—one sooner,
another later—have traveled over. Have traveled
over in one and the same life? Can he have been in
one and the selfsame life a sensual Jew and a spiritual
Christian? Can he in the selfsame life have overtaken
both?
“Surely not that: but why should not every individual
man have existed more than once upon this
world?
“Is this hypothesis so laughable merely because it
is the oldest? Because the human understanding, before
the sophistries of the schools had dissipated and
debilitated it, lighted upon it at once?
“Why may not even I have already performed
those steps of my perfecting which bring to men only
temporal punishments and rewards? And once more,
why not another time all those steps to perform which,
the views of eternal rewards so powerfully assist us?
“Why should I not come back as often as I am capable
of acquiring fresh knowledge, fresh expertness?
Do I bring away so much from once that there is nothing
to repay the trouble of coming back?
“Is this a reason against it? Or, because I forget
that I have been here already? Happy is it for me
that I do forget. The recollection of my former condition
would permit me to make only a bad use of the
present. And that which even I must forget now, is
that necessarily forgotten forever?
“Or is it a reason against the hypothesis that so
much time would have been lost to me? Lost? And
74how much then should I miss? Is not a whole eternity
mine?”
3. “The Destiny of Man,” by J. G. Fichte, whose
great thoughts still heave the heart of Germany and
grandly mould the world, contains these paragraphs:
“These two systems, the purely spiritual and the
sensuous,—which last may consist of an immeasurable
series of particular lives,—exist in me from the
moment when my active reason is developed, and
pursue their parallel course. The former alone gives
to the latter meaning and purpose and value. I am
immortal, imperishable, eternal, so soon as I form the
resolution to obey the law of reason. After an existence
of myriad lives the supersensuous world cannot
be more present than at this moment. Other conditions
of my sensuous existence are to come, but
these are no more the true life than the present condition
is.
“Man is not a product of the world of sense; and
the end of his existence can never be attained in that
world. His destination lies beyond time and space
and all that pertains to sense.
“Mine eye discerns this eternal life and motion in
all the veins of sensible and spiritual nature, through
what seems to others a dead mass. And it sees this
life forever ascend and grow and transfigure itself into
a more spiritual expression of its own nature. The
sun rises and sets, the stars vanish and return again,
and all the spheres hold their cycle dance. But they
never return precisely such as they disappeared; and
in the shining fountains of life there is also life and
progress.
“All death in nature is birth; and precisely in
dying, the sublimation of life appears most conspicuous.
75There is no death-bringing principle in nature,
for nature is only life, throughout. Not death kills,
but the more living life, which is hidden behind the
old, begins and unfolds itself. Death and birth are
only the struggles of life with itself to manifest itself
in ever more transfigured form, more like itself.
“Even because Nature puts me to death she must
quicken me anew. It can only be my higher life, unfolding
itself in her, before which my present life disappears;
and that which mortals call death is the
visible appearing of another vivification.”
4. Among the wealth of German geniuses, there is
none more lofty and broad than Herder, whom Jean
Paul admiringly pronounced, “a Poem made by some
purest Deity,—combining the boldest freedom of
philosophy concerning nature and God with a most
pious faith.” One of the most suggestive of this
master’s works is a series of “Dialogues on Metempsychosis,”
in which two friends discuss the theme together.
As the outcome of their colloquy is a stanch
vindication of that hypothesis, it is not unfair to
group together a few of the paragraphs on one side of
the conversation:—
“Do you not know great and rare men who cannot
have become what they are at once, in a single human
existence? who must have often existed before
in order to have attained that purity of feeling, that
instinctive impulse for all that is true, beautiful, and
good, in short, that elevation and natural supremacy
over all around them?
“Do not these great characters appear, for the most
part, all at once? Like a cloud of celestial spirits,
descended from on high; like men risen from the dead
born again, who brought back the old time?
76“Have you never had remembrances of a former
state, which you could find no place for in this life?
In that beautiful period when the soul is yet a half-closed
bud, have you not seen persons, been in places,
of which you were ready to swear that you had seen
those persons, or had been in those places before?
And yet it could not have been in this life? The
most blessed moments, the grandest thoughts, are
from that source. In our more ordinary seasons, we
look back with astonishment on ourselves, we do not
comprehend ourselves. And such are we; we who,
from a hundred causes, have sunk so deep and are
so wedded to matter, that but few reminiscences of so
pure a character remain to us. The nobler class of
men who, separated from wine and meat, lived in perfect
simplicity according to the order of nature, carried
it further, no doubt, than others, as we learn from the
example of Pythagoras, of Iarchas, of Apollonius, and
others, who remembered distinctly what and how
many times they had been in the world before. If we
are blind, or can see but two steps beyond our
noses, ought we therefore to deny that others may see
a hundred or a thousand degrees farther, even to the
bottom of time, into the deep, cool well of the foreworld,
and there discern everything plain and bright
and clear?”
To this last strain the listener responds: “I will
freely confess to you that those sweet dreams of memory
are known to me also, among the experiences of
my childhood and youth. I have been in places and
circumstances of which I could have sworn that I had
been in them before. I have seen persons with whom
I seemed to have lived before; with whom I was, as it
were, on the footing of an old acquaintance.” He
77then attempts to explain them as returned dreams,
which his interlocutor answers with more wonderful
impressions necessarily requiring a former life.
“Have you never observed that children will sometimes,
on a sudden, give utterance to ideas which
make us wonder how they got possession of them;
which presuppose a long series of other ideas and secret
self-communings; which break forth like a full
stream out of the earth, an infallible sign that the
stream was not produced in a moment from a few
raindrops, but had long been flowing concealed beneath
the ground, and, it may be, had broken through
many a rock, and contracted many defilements?
“You know the law of economy which rules
throughout nature. Is it not probable that the Deity
is guided by it in the propagation and progress of human
souls? He who has not become ripe in one form
of humanity is put into the experience again, and,
some time or other, must be perfected.
“I am not ashamed of my half-brothers the brutes;
on the contrary, as far as they are concerned, I am a
great advocate of metempsychosis. I believe, for a
certainty, that they will ascend to a higher grade of
being, and am unable to understand how any one can
object to this hypothesis, which seems to have the analogy
of the whole creation in its favor.
“All the life of nature, all the tribes and species of
animated creation,—what are they but sparks of the
Godhead, a harvest of incarnate stars, among which
the two human sexes stand forth like sun and moon?
We overshine, we dim the other figures, but, doubtless,
we lead them onward in a chorus invisible to ourselves.
Oh, that an eye were given us to trace the
shining course of this divine spark; to see how life
78flows to life, and ever refining, impelled through all
the veins of creation, wells up into a purer, higher life.
“And yet Pythagoras, too, spoke of a Tartarus and
an Elysium. When you stand before the statue of
a high-hearted Apollo, do you not feel what you lack
of being that form? Can you ever attain to it here
below, though you should return ten times? And yet
that was only the idea of an artist—a dream which
our narrow breast also inclosed. Has the almighty
Father no nobler forms for us than those in which
our heart now heaves and groans? The soul lies captive
in its dungeon, bound as with a seven-fold chain,
and only through a strong grating, and only through a
pair of light and air-holes, can it breathe and see, and
always it sees the world on one side only, while there
are a million other sides before us and in us, had we
but more and other senses, and could we but exchange
this narrow hut of our body for a freer prospect.
That restless discontent shall some time finally release
us from our repeated sojourns on earth, through
which the Father is training us for a complete divorce
from sense life. When even at the sweetest fountains
of friendship and love, we so often pine, thirsty and
sick, seeking union and finding it not, what noble
soul does not lift itself up and despise tabernacles and
wanderings in the circle of earthly deserts.
“Purification of the heart, the ennobling of the
soul, with all its propensities and cravings, this, it
seems to me, is the true palingenesis of this life, after
which, I doubt not, a happy, more exalted, but yet unknown
metempsychosis awaits us.”
5. Dr. Henry More, the learned and lovable Platonist
of the seventeenth century, wrote a charming treatise
on the “Immortality of the Soul,” in which
79(chapter xii.) he argues for preëxistence as follows:—
“If it be good for the souls of men to be at all,
the sooner they are, the better. But we are most certain
that the wisdom and goodness of God will do
that which is the best; and therefore if they can enjoy
themselves before they come to these terrestrial
bodies, they must be before they come into these
bodies. For nothing hinders but that they may live
before they come into the body, as well as they may
after going out of it. Wherefore the preëxistence of
souls is a necessary result of the wisdom and goodness
of God.
“Again, the face of Providence in the work seems
very much to suit with this opinion, there being not
any so natural and easy account to be given of those
things that seem the most harsh in the affairs of men,
as from this hypothesis: that these souls did once
subsist in some other state; where, in several manners
and degrees, they forfeited the favor of their
Creator, and so, according to that just Nemesis that
He has interwoven in the constitution of the universe
and of their own natures, they undergo several calamities
and asperities of fortune and sad drudgeries of
fate, as a punishment inflicted, or a disease contracted
from the several obliquities of their apostasy. Which
key is not only able to unlock that recondite mystery
of some particular men’s almost fatal averseness from
all religion and virtue, their stupidity and dullness
and even invincible slowness to these things from
their very childhood, and their incorrigible propension
to all manner of vice; but also of that squalid forlornness
and brutish barbarity that whole nations for many
ages have lain under, and many do still lie under at
80this very day: which sad scene of things must needs
exceedingly cloud and obscure the ways of Divine
Providence, and make them utterly unintelligible;
unless some light be let in from the present hypothesis.
“And as this hypothesis is rational in itself, so has
it also gained the suffrage of all philosophers of all
ages, of any note, that have held the soul of man incorporeal
and immortal. I shall add, for the better
countenance of the business, some few instances herein,
as a pledge of the truth of my general conclusion.
Let us cast our eye, therefore, into what corner of
the world we will, that has been famous for wisdom
and literature, and the wisest of those nations you
shall find the asserters of this opinion.
“In Egypt, that ancient nurse of all hidden sciences,
that this opinion was in vogue amongst the wisest
men there, the fragments of Trismegist do sufficiently
witness: of which opinion, not only the Gymnosophists,
and other wise men of Egypt, were, but also
the Brachmans of India, and the Magi of Babylon
and Persia. To these you may add the abstruse philosophy
of the Jews, which they call their Cabbala,
of which the soul’s preëxistence makes a considerable
part, as all the learned of the Jews do confess.
“And if I should particularize in persons of this
opinion, truly they are such of so great fame for
depth of understanding, and abstrusest science, that
their testimony alone might seem sufficient to bear
down any ordinary modest man into an assent to their
doctrine. And, in the first place, if we believe the
Cabbala of the Jews, we must assign it to Moses, the
greatest philosopher certainly that ever was in the
world; to whom you may add Zoroaster, Pythagoras,
81Epicharmus, Cebes, Euripides, Plato, Euclid, Philo,
Virgil, Marcus Cicero, Plotinus, Iamblichus, Proclus,
Boethius, Pfellus, and several others, which it would
be too long to recite. And if it were fit to add
fathers to philosophers, we might enter into the same
list Synesius and Origen; the latter of whom was
surely the greatest light and bulwark that ancient
Christianity had. But I have not yet ended my catalogue;
that admirable physician Johannes Fernelius
is also of this persuasion, and is not to be so himself
only, but discovers those two grand-masters of medicine,
Hippocrates and Galen, to be so, too. Cardan,
also, that famous philosopher of his age, expressly
concludes that the rational soul is both a distinct being
from the soul of the world, and that it does preexist
before it comes into the body; and lastly, Pomponatius,
no friend to the soul’s immortality, yet cannot
but confess that the safest way to hold it is also
therewith to acknowledge her preëxistence.
“And we shall evince that Aristotle, that has the
luck to be believed more than most authors, was of the
same opinion, in his treatise ‘De Anima,’ where he
says, ‘for every art must use its proper instruments,
and every soul its body.’ He speaks something more
plainly in his ‘De Generatione Animæ.’ ‘There are
generated,’ saith he, ‘in the earth, and in the moisture
thereof, plants and living creatures, and in the whole
universe an animal heat; insomuch that in a manner
all places are full of souls.’ We will add a third
place still more clear, out of the same treatise, where
he starts that very question of the preëxistency of
souls, of the sensitive and rational especially, and he
concludes thus: ‘It remains that the rational or intellectual
soul only enters from without, as being only of
82a nature purely divine; with whose actions the actions
of this gross body have no communication.’ Concerning
which point he concludes like an orthodox scholar
of his excellent master Plato; to whose footsteps the
closer he keeps, the less he ever wanders from the
truth. For in this very place he does plainly profess
what many would not have him so apertly guilty of,
that the soul of man is immortal, and can perform her
proper functions without the help of this terrestrial
body.”
6. Sir Thomas Browne explains and defends his
own heresies, by suggesting the added heresy of reincarnation:—
“For, indeed, heresies perish not with their authors:
but like the river Arethusa, though they lose
their currents in one place, they rise up again in another.
One general council is not able to extirpate
one single heresy: it may be canceled for the present:
but revolution of time and the like aspects from
heaven will restore it, when it will flourish till it be
condemned again. For, as though there were a metempsychosis,
and the soul of one man passed into another,
opinions do find, after certain revolutions, men
and minds like those that first begat them. To see
ourselves again, we need not look for Plato’s year;
every man is not only himself: there have been many
Diogeneses, and as many Timons, though but few of
that name; men are lived over again; the world is
now as it was in ages past; there was none then, but
there hath been some one since, that parallels him,
and is, as it were, his revived self.”[19]
7. One of the rare volumes of the early eighteenth
83century is Chevalier Ramsay’s remarkable work entitled
“The Philosophical Principles of Natural and
Revealed Religion,” in which he elaborates the idea
that “the sacred mysteries of our holy faith are not
new fictions unheard of by the philosophers of all
nations,” but that “on the contrary Christianity is as
old as the creation.” In this “History of the human
mind in all ages, nations, and religions, concerning the
most divine truths,” he shows that reincarnation is
the common possession of Christianity and of all the
other great systems of sacred thought:—
“The holy oracles always represent Paradise as our
native country, and our present life as an exile. How
can we be said to have been banished from a place in
which we never were? This argument alone would
suffice to convince us of preëxistence, if the prejudice
of infancy inspired by the schoolmen had not accustomed
us to look upon these expressions as metaphorical,
and to believe, contrary to Scripture and to reason,
that we were exiled from a happy state, only for
the fault of our first parents. Atrocious maxim that
sullies all the conduct of Providence, and that shocks
the understandings of the most intelligent children of
all nations. The answers ordinarily made to them
throw into their tender minds the seeds of a lasting incredulity.
“In Scripture, the wise man says, speaking of the
eternal Logos, and his preëxistent humanity: ‘The
Lord possessed me from the beginning of his ways,
before his works of old; I was set up from everlasting,
from the beginning or ever the earth was!’ All
this can be said only of the eternal Logos. But what
follows may be applied to the preëxistent humanity of
the Messiah: ‘When he prepared the heavens I was
84there, when he encircled the force of the deep, when
he established the clouds above, when he appointed
the foundations of the earth, then I was by him, as
one brought up with him, and I was daily his delight,
rejoicing always before him, rejoicing in the habitable
parts of the earth, and my delights were with the
sons of men.’ It is visible that Solomon speaks here
of a time soon after the creation of the world, of a
time when the earth was inhabited only by a pure,
innocent race. Can this be said after the fall, when
the earth was cursed? It is only a profound ignorance
of the ancient, primitive tradition of preëxistence
that can make men mistake the true sense of
this sublime text.
“Our Saviour seems to approve the doctrine of pre-existence
in his answer to his disciples when they interrogate
him thus about the man born blind: ‘Master,
who did sin, this man or his parents, that he was born
blind?’[20] It is clear that this question would have
been ridiculous and impertinent, if the disciples had
not believed that the man born blind had sinned before
his corporeal birth, and, consequently, that he had
preëxisted in another state. Our Saviour’s answer is
remarkable: ‘Neither hath this man sinned, nor his
parents; but that the works of God should be made
manifest in him!’ Jesus Christ could not mean that
neither this man nor his parents had ever sinned, for
this can be said of no mortal; but the meaning is, that
it was neither for the sins committed by this man in
a state of preëxistence, nor for those of his parents,
that he was born blind, but in order to manifest one
day the power of God. Our Lord, therefore, far
from blaming and redressing this error in his disciples,
85answers in a way that seems to confirm them in
the doctrine of preëxistence. If he had looked upon
this opinion as a capital error, would it have been
compatible with his wisdom to pass it over so slightly,
and taciturnly authorize it? On the contrary, does
not his silence indicate that he looked upon this doctrine,
which was a received maxim of the Jewish
church, as the true explication of original sin?
“St. Paul says, in speaking of the origin of
mortal and physical evil, ‘By one man sin entered
into the world, and death by sin; and death passed
upon all men, for that all have sinned.’[21] If all have
sinned, then all have voluntarily coöperated with
Adam in the breach of the eternal law: for where
there is no deliberate act of will, there can be no
sin. The Apostle does not say that Adam’s sin was
imputed to all. The doctrine of imputation, by which
God attributes Adam’s sin to his innocent posterity,
cannot be the meaning of St. Paul, for, besides that
this doctrine is incompatible with the divine perfection,
the Apostle adds: ‘For as by one man’s disobedience
many were made sinners, so by the obedience
of one shall all be made righteous.’[22] Now it is certain
that men can only be made righteous by their personal,
deliberate, and voluntary coöperation with the
spirit of grace, or the second Adam. The Apostle assures
us in the same passage that ‘all did not sin after
the similitude of Adam’s transgression.’ This sin
was really committed in a preëxistent state by the individuals
of the present human race. The meaning
is that one pair gave the bad example, and all the
human race co-existent with them in Paradise soon
imitated this crime of disobedience against the eternal
86law, by the false love of natural knowledge and sensible
pleasure. St. Paul seems to confirm this when
he says: ‘For the children being not yet born, having
neither done good nor evil, it was said unto Rebecca,
‘Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated.’ God’s
love and hatred depend upon the moral dispositions
of the creature. Since God says that he loved Jacob
and hated Esau ere they were born, and before they
had done good or evil in this mortal life, it follows
clearly that they must have preëxisted in another state.
This would have appeared to be the natural sense of
the text, if prejudices imbibed from our infancy, more
or less, had not blinded the mind of Christian doctors
to the same degree as Judaical prejudices darkened
those of the ancient Pharisees.
“If it be said that these texts are obscure; that
preëxistence is only drawn from them by induction,
and that this opinion is not revealed in Scripture by
express words, I answer, that the doctrines of the
immortality of the soul are nowhere revealed expressly
in the sacred oracles of the Old or New Testament,
but because all their morals and doctrines
are founded upon these great truths. We may say
the same of preëxistence. The doctrine is nowhere
expressly revealed, but it is evidently supposed, as
without it original sin becomes not only inexplicable,
but absurd, repugnant, and impossible.
“There is nothing in the fathers nor councils that
contradicts this doctrine; yea, while the fifth general
council and all the fathers after the sixth century condemn
a false idea of preëxistence in which the ancient
tradition was adulterated by the Origenists and
Priscillianists, the true doctrine of preëxistence was
not condemned by the church. This supposes that
87all the individuals of the human species composed of
soul and body were created in Paradise, that they all
coöperated in Adam’s disobedience, partook of his
crime, and so were justly punished. This was the
constant tradition of the Jewish church, and confirmed
by the Scriptures. This opinion of preëxistence was
also very ancient in the Christian church, ere the
Origenists spoiled it with the Pythagorean and Platonic
fictions.
“It is against the impious degradation of transmigration
[through animal bodies] that the fathers
declaim, and not the true Scripture doctrine of degraded
[human] intelligences. This the schoolmen
confound with the false disguises—mixtures of the
pagans. This great principle is the true key by
which we can understand the meaning of several passages
of Scripture, and the sense of many sublime articles
of faith. Thus only can we shelter Christianity
from the railleries of the incredulous.”
8. Among Soame Jenyns’s “Disquisitions on Several
Subjects” is a “Disquisition on a Præexistent
State,” from which we quote the following:—
“That mankind had existed in some state previous
to the present was the opinion of the wisest sages of
the most remote antiquity. It was held by the
Gymnosophists of Egypt, the Brachmans of India, the
Magi of Persia, and the greatest philosophers of
Greece and Rome; it was likewise adopted by the fathers
of the Christian Church, and frequently enforced
by her primitive writers. Why it has been so little noticed,
so much overlooked rather than rejected, by the
divines and metaphysicians of later ages, I am at a
loss to account for, as it is undoubtedly confirmed by
reason, by all the appearances of nature, and the doctrines
of revelation.
88“In the first place, then, it is confirmed by reason,
which teaches us that it is impossible that the conjunction
of a male and female can create, or bring into
being, an immortal soul: they may prepare a material
habitation for it, but there must be an immaterial
preëxistent inhabitant ready to take possession. Reason
assures us that an immortal soul, which will eternally
exist after the dissolution of the body, must have
eternally existed before the formation of it; for whatever
has no end can never have had any beginning,
but must exist in some manner which bears no relation
to time, to us totally incomprehensible; if, therefore,
the soul will continue to exist in a future life, it
must have existed in a former. Reason likewise tells
us that an omnipotent and benevolent Creator would
never have formed such a world as this, and filled it
with inhabitants, if the present was the only, or even
the first, state of their existence, a state which, if unconnected
with the past and the future, seems calculated
for no one purpose intelligible to our understandings;
neither of good or evil, of happiness or misery,
of virtue or vice, of reward or punishment, but a confused
jumble of them all together, proceeding from no
visible cause and tending to no end. But, as we are
certain that infinite power cannot be employed without
effect, nor infinite wisdom without design, we may rationally
conclude that this world could be designed as
nothing more than a prison, in which we are awhile
confined to receive punishment for the offenses committed
in a former, and an opportunity of preparing
ourselves for the enjoyment of happiness in a future,
life.
“Secondly, these conclusions of reason are sufficiently
confirmed by the force of nature and the appearance
89of things. This world is evidently formed
for a place of punishment as well as probation,—a
prison, or house of correction, to which we are committed,
some for a longer, and some for a shorter
time; some to the severest labor, others to more indulgent
tasks; and if we consider it under this character,
we shall perceive it admirably fitted for the
end for which it was intended. It is a spacious,
beautiful, and durable structure; it contains many
various apartments, a few very comfortable, many
tolerable, and some extremely wretched; it is inclosed
with a fence so impassable that none can surmount
it but with the loss of life. Its inhabitants likewise
exactly resemble those of other prisons: they come in
with malignant dispositions and unruly passions, from
whence, like other confined criminals, they receive
great part of their punishment by abusing and injuring
each other. As we may suppose that they have
not all been equally guilty, so they are not all equally
miserable; the majority are permitted to procure a
tolerable subsistence by their labor, and pass through
their confinement without any extraordinary penalties,
except from paying their fees at their discharge by
death. Others, who perhaps stand in need of more
severe chastisement, receive it by a variety of methods,
some by the most tedious pains and diseases;
some by disappointments, and many by success in their
favorite pursuits; some by being condemned to situations
peculiarly unfortunate, as to those of extreme
poverty or superabundant riches, of despicable manners
or painful preëminence, of galley-slaves in a despotic,
or ministers in a free, country.
“Lastly, the opinion of preëxistence is no less confirmed
by revelation than by reason and the appearance
90of things; for although, perhaps, it is nowhere in
the New Testament explicitly enforced, yet throughout
the whole tenor of those writings it is everywhere
implied. In them mankind are constantly represented
as coming into the world under a load of
guilt,—as condemned criminals, the children of wrath,
and objects of divine indignation, placed in it for a
time by the mercies of God, to give them an opportunity
of expiating their guilt by sufferings, and regaining
by a pious and virtuous conduct their lost estate
of happiness and innocence; this is styled working out
their salvation, not preventing their condemnation, for
that is already past, and their only hope now is redemption,
that is, being rescued from a state of captivity
and sin, in which they are universally involved.
This is the very essence of the Christian dispensation,
and the grand principle in which it differs from the
religion of nature; in every other respect they are
nearly similar. They both enjoin the same moral duties
and prohibit the same vices; but Christianity acquaints
us that we are admitted into this life oppressed
by guilt and depravity, which we must atone for by
suffering its usual calamities, and work off by acts of
positive virtue, before we can hope for happiness in
another. Now, if by all this a preëxistent state is
not constantly supposed, in which this guilt was incurred
and this depravity contracted, there can be no
meaning at all, or such a meaning as contradicts every
principle of common sense,—that guilt can be contracted
without acting, or that we can act without existing.
So undeniable is this inference that it renders
any positive assertion of a preëxistent state totally
useless; as, if a man at the moment of his entrance
into a new country was declared a criminal, it would
91surely be unnecessary to assert that he had lived in
some other before he came there.
“In all our researches into abstruse subjects there
is a certain clue, without which, the further we proceed
the more we are bewildered; but which, being fortunately
discovered, leads us at once through the whole
labyrinth, puts an end to our difficulties, and opens a
system perfectly clear, consistent, and intelligible.
The doctrine of preëxistence, or the acknowledgment
of some past state of disobedience, I take to be this very
clue; which, if we constantly carry along with us, we
shall proceed unembarrassed through all the intricate
mysteries both of nature and revelation, and at last
arrive at so clear a prospect of the wise and just dispensations
of our Creator, as cannot fail to afford complete
satisfaction to the most inquisitive skeptic.
“Thus is a preëxistent state, I think, clearly demonstrated
by the principles of reason, the appearance
of things, and the sense of revelation; all which
agree that this world is intended for a place of punishment,
as well as probation, and must therefore refer
to some former period. For as probation implies a future
life, for which it is preparatory, so punishment
must imply a former state, in which offenses were committed
for which it is due; and indeed there is not a
single argument drawn from the justice of God, and
the seemingly undeserved sufferings of many in the
present state, which can be urged in proof of a future
life, which proves not with superior force the existence
of another which is already past.”
9. One of the chapters in Joseph Glanvil’s “Lux
Orientalis,” a treatise attempting to demonstrate the
truth of Platonic preëxistence, and strengthened by
the elaborate annotations of Dr. Henry More, is an
extension of the following—
92“Seven Pillars on which the Hypothesis of Preëxistence
stands.
“1. All the divine designs and actions are carried
on by pure and infinite goodness.
“2. There is an exact geometrical justice that runs
through the universe, and is interwoven in the contexture
of things.
“3. Things are carried to their proper place and
state by the congruity of their natures; where this
fails we may suppose some arbitrary management.
“4. The souls of men are capable of living in other
bodies besides terrestrial; and never act but in some
body or other.
“5. The soul in every state hath such a body as is
fittest to those faculties and operations that it is most
inclined to exercise.
“6. The powers and faculties of the soul are either
spiritual or intellectual, or sensitive or plastic.
“7. By the same degrees that the higher powers are
invigorated, the lower are abated, as to their proper
exercise.”
10. In Dowden’s “Life of Shelley” (vol. i. p. 80),
the following anecdote of the poet is quoted from his
friend Hogg: “One morning we had been reading
Plato together so diligently that the usual hour of
exercise passed away unperceived. We sallied forth
hastily to take the air for half an hour before dinner.
In the middle of Magdalen Bridge we met a woman
with a child in her arms. Shelley was more attentive
at that instant to our conduct in a life that was past or
to come than to a decorous regulation of his behavior
according to the established usages of society. With
abrupt dexterity he caught hold of the child. The
mother, who well might fear that it was about to be
93thrown over the parapet of the bridge into the sedgy
waters below, held it fast by its long train. ‘Will
your baby tell us anything about preëxistence,
madam?’ he asked in a piercing voice and with a wistful
look. The mother made no answer, but perceiving
that Shelley’s object was not murderous, but altogether
harmless, she dismissed her apprehension and
relaxed her hold. ‘Will your baby tell us anything
about preëxistence, madam?’ he repeated, with unabated
earnestness. ‘He cannot speak, sir,’ said the
mother seriously. ‘Worse, worse,’ cried Shelley with
an air of disappointment, shaking his long hair most
pathetically about his young face. ‘But surely the
babe can speak if he will, for he is only a few weeks
old. He may fancy that he cannot, but it is only a
silly whim. He cannot have forgotten the use of
speech in so short a time. The thing is absolutely
impossible.’ ‘It is not for me to dispute with you,
gentlemen,’ the woman meekly replied, ‘but I can
safely declare I never heard him speak, nor any
child of his age.’ It was a fine placid boy. So far
from being disturbed by the interruption, he looked up
and smiled. Shelley pressed his fat cheeks with his
fingers. We commended his healthy appearance and
his equanimity, and the mother was allowed to proceed,
probably to her satisfaction, for she would doubtless
prefer a less speculative nurse. Shelley sighed as we
walked on. ‘How provokingly close are these new-born
babes!’ he ejaculated; ‘but it is not the less
certain, notwithstanding the cunning attempts to conceal
the truth, that all knowledge is reminiscence.
The doctrine is far more ancient than the times of
Plato, and as old as the venerable allegory that the
muses are the daughters of memory; not one of the
muses was ever said to be the child of invention.’”
9411. Hume’s skeptical essay on “The Immortality
of the Soul” argues thus:—
“Reasoning from the common course of nature, and
without supposing any new interposition of the supreme
cause, which ought always to be excluded from
philosophy, what is incorruptible must also be ungenerable.
The soul, therefore, if immortal, existed before
our birth, and if the former existence noways
concerns us, neither will the latter....
“The metempsychosis is, therefore, the only system
of this kind that philosophy can hearken to.”
12. Southey says in his published “Letters”: “I
have a strong and lively faith in a state of continued
consciousness from this stage of existence, and that we
shall recover the consciousness of some lower stages
through which we may previously have passed seems
to me not impossible....
“The system of progressive existence seems, of all
others, the most benevolent; and all that we do understand
is so wise and so good, and all we do or do not,
so perfectly and overwhelmingly wonderful, that the
most benevolent system is the most probable.”
13. From a letter written by that curious genius
William Blake (the artist) to his friend John Flaxman
(the sculptor):[23]—
“In my brain are studies and chambers filled with
books and pictures of old which I wrote and painted
in ages of eternity before my mortal life; and these
works are the delight and study of archangels.
“You, O dear Flaxman, are a sublime archangel,
my friend and companion from eternity. I look back
into the regions of reminiscence and behold our ancient
days before this earth appeared and its vegetative
95mortality to my mortal vegetated eyes. I see our
houses of eternity which can never be separated,
though our mortal vehicles should stand at the remotest
corners of heaven from each other.”
14. In the “Fortnightly Review” for September,
1878, Professor William Knight writes: “It seems
surprising that in the discussions of contemporary philosophy
on the origin and destiny of the soul there
has been no explicit revival of the doctrines of Pre-existence
and Metempsychosis. Whatever may be
their intrinsic worth or evidential value, their title to
rank on the roll of philosophical hypotheses is undoubted.
They offer quite as remarkable a solution
of the mystery which all admit as the rival theories
of Creation, Traduction, and Extinction.”
“If we reject the doctrine of Preëxistence, we must
either believe in non-existence or fall back in one or
other of the two opposing theories of Creation and
Traduction; and as we reject Extinction, we may find
Preëxistence has fewer difficulties to face than the
rival hypotheses. Creation is the theory that every
moment of time multitudes of souls are simultaneously
born,—not sent down from a celestial source, but
freshly made out of nothing and placed in bodies prepared
for them by natural growth. To the Platonist
the theory of Traduction seemed even worse, as it implied
the derivation of the soul from at least two
sources,—from both parents,—and a substance thus
derived was apparently composite and quasi-material.
“Stripped of all extravagance and expressed in the
modest terms of probability, the theory has immense
speculative interest and great ethical value. It is
much to have the puzzle of the origin of evil thrown
back for an indefinite number of cycles of lives; to
96have a workable explanation of Nemesis, and of what
we are accustomed to call the moral tragedies and the
untoward birth of a multitude of men and women.
It is much also to have the doctrine of immortality
lightened of its difficulties; to have our immediate outlook
relieved by the doctrine that in the soul’s eternity
its preëxistence and its future existence are one. The
retrospect may assuredly help the prospect.”
“Whether we make use of it or not, we ought to
realize its alternatives. They are these. Either all
life is extinguished and resolved through an absorption
and reassumption of the vital principle everywhere,
or a perpetual miracle goes on in the incessant
and rapid increase in the amount of spiritual existence
within the universe; and while human life survives,
the intelligence and the affection of the lower
animals perish everlastingly.”
15. Professor W. A. Butler’s celebrated lectures
upon “The History of Ancient Philosophy” lean
strongly toward an endorsement of Plato’s philosophy
of reincarnation:—
“It must be allowed that there is much in the hypothesis
of preëxistence (at least) which might attract
a speculator busied with the endeavor to reduce
the moral system of the world under intelligible laws.
The solution which it at once furnishes of the state
and fortunes of each individual, as arising in some unknown
but direct process from his own voluntary acts,
though it throws, of course, no light on the ultimate
question of the existence of moral evil (which it only
removes a single step), does yet contribute to satisfy
the mind as to the equity of that immediate manifestation
of it, and of its physical attendants, which we unhappily
witness. There is internally no greater improbability
97that the present may be the result of a
former state now almost wholly forgotten, than that
the present should be followed by a future form of
existence in which, perhaps, or in some departments
of which, the oblivion may be as complete. And if to
that future state there are already discernible faint
longings and impulses which to many men have
seemed to involve a direct proof of its reality, hopes
that will not be bounded by the grave, and desires
that grasp eternity, others have found within them, it
would seem, faint intimations scarcely less impressive
of the past, as if the soul vibrated the echoes of a
harmony not of this world. Wordsworth has told us
that such convictions seem to be a part, though a neglected
part, of the heritage of our race.”
16. The novelist Bulwer thus expresses his opinion
of this truth: “Eternity may be but an endless series
of those migrations which men call deaths, abandonments
of home after home, even to fairer scenes and
loftier heights. Age after age the spirit may shift
its tent, fated not to rest in the dull Elysium of the
heathen, but carrying with it evermore its two elements,
activity and desire.”[24]
17. Pezzani, the author of “The Plurality of the
Soul’s Lives,”[25] writes: “The earthly sojourn is only
a new probation, as was said by Dupont de Nemours,
that great writer who, in the eighteenth century, outstripped
all modern thought. Now, if this be so, is it
not plain that the recollection of former lives would
seriously hinder probations, by removing most of their
difficulties, and consequently of their deserts, as well
as of their spontaneity? We live in a world where
98free will is all-powerful, the inviolable law of advancement
and progress among men. If past lives were
remembered, the soul would know the significance and
import of the trials which are reserved for it here below:
indolent and careless, it would harden itself
against the purposes of Providence, and become
paralyzed by the hopelessness of mastering them, or
even, if of a better quality and more manly, it would
accept and work them out without fail. Well, neither
of these suppositions is necessary; the struggle must
be free, voluntary, safe from the influences of the past;
the field of combat must seem new, so that the athlete
may exhibit and practice his virtues upon it. The experience
he has already acquired, the forces he has
learned how to conquer, serve him in the new strife;
but in such a manner that he does not suspect it, for
the imperfect soul undergoes reincarnations in order
to develop the qualities that it has already manifested,
to free itself from the vices and faults which are in
opposition to the ascensional law. What would happen
if all men remembered their former lives? The
order of the earth would be overthrown; at least, it is
not now established on such conditions. Lethe, as
well as free will, is a law of the actual world.”
18. One of Emerson’s earliest essays (“The
Method of Nature”) contains this paragraph: “We
cannot describe the natural history of the soul, but
we know that it is divine. I cannot tell if these
wonderful qualities which house to-day in this mortal
frame shall ever reassemble in equal activity in a
similar frame, or whether they have before had a natural
history like that of this body you see before you;
but this one thing I know, that these qualities did not
now begin to exist, cannot be sick with my sickness
99nor buried in my grave; but that they circulate
through the universe: before the world was, they
were. Nothing can bar them out, or shut them in,
but they penetrate the ocean and land, space and
time, form and essence, and hold the key to universal
nature.”
Again, in one of his latest works (on “Immortality”)
he says: “The fable of the Wandering Jew is
agreeable to men, because they want more time and
land in which to execute their thoughts. But a higher
poetic use must be made of the legend. Take us as
we are, with our experience, and transfer us to a new
planet, and let us digest for its inhabitants what we
can of the wisdom of this. After we have found
our depth there, and assimilated what we can of the
new experience, transfer us to a new scene. In each
transfer we shall have acquired, by seeing them at a
distance, a new mastery of the old thoughts, in which
we were too much immersed.”[26]
19. James Freeman Clarke writes (in “Ten Great
Religions,” ii. 190): “That man has come up to his
present state of development by passing through lower
forms is the popular doctrine of science to-day. What
is called evolution teaches that we have reached our
present state by a very long and gradual ascent from
the lowest animal organizations. It is true that the
Darwinian theory takes no notice of the evolution of
the soul, but only of the body. But it appears to me
that a combination of the two views would remove
many difficulties which still attach to the theory of
natural selection and the survival of the fittest. If
we are to believe in evolution, let us have the assistance
100of the soul itself in this development of new
species. Thus science and philosophy will coöperate,
nor will poetry hesitate to lend her aid.”
20. The noblest work of modern times, and probably
of all time, upon immortality, is a large volume
by the Rev. William R. Alger, entitled “A Critical
History of the Doctrine of a Future Life.” It was
published in 1860, and still remains the standard authority
upon that topic throughout Christendom. This
little book is substantially indebted to it. The author
is a Unitarian minister, who devoted half his lifetime
to the work, undermining his health thereby. In the
first edition (1860) the writer characterizes reincarnation
as a plausible delusion, unworthy of credence.
For fifteen years more he continued studying the subject,
and the last edition (1878) gives the final result
of his ripest investigations in heartily endorsing and
advocating reincarnation. No more striking argument
for the doctrine could be advanced than this
fact. That a Christian clergyman, making the problem
of the soul’s destiny his life’s study, should become
so overpowered by the force of this pagan idea
as to adopt it for the climax of his scholarship is
extremely significant. And the result is reached by
such a sincere course of reasoning that the seminaries
in all denominations are compelled to accept his book
as the masterpiece. From one of the supplemental
chapters we quote the following by his permission:—
“Besides the various distinctive arguments of its
own, every reason for the resurrection holds with at
least equal force for transmigration. The argument
from analogy is especially strong. It is natural to
argue from the universal spectacle of incarnated life
that this is the eternal scheme everywhere, the variety
101of souls finding in the variety of worlds an everlasting
series of adventures in appropriate organisms; there
being, as Paul said, one kind of flesh of birds, another
of beasts, another of men, another of angels, and so
on. Our present lack of recollection of past lives is
no disproof of their actuality. Every night we lose
all knowledge of the past, but every day we reawaken
to a memory of the whole series of days and nights.
So in one life we may forget or dream, and in another
recover the whole thread of experience from the beginning.
“In every event, it must be confessed that of all
the thoughtful and refined forms of the belief in a
future life none has had so extensive and prolonged a
prevalence as this. It has the vote of the majority,
having for ages on ages been held by half the human
race with an intensity of conviction almost without a
parallel. Indeed, the most striking fact about the
doctrine of the repeated incarnations of the soul, its
form and experience in each successive embodiment
being determined by its merits and demerits in the
preceding ones, is the constant reappearance of that
faith in all parts of the world, and its permanent hold
on certain great nations.
“Another striking fact connected with this doctrine
is that it seems to be a native and ineradicable growth
of the oriental world; but appears in the western
world only in scattered instances, and rather as an
exotic form of thought. In the growing freedom and
liberality of thought, which, no less than its doubt and
denial, now characterize Christendom, it seems as if
the full time had come for a greater mental and æsthetic
hospitality on the part of Christians towards
Hindus. The advocates of the resurrection should
102not confine their attention to the repellant or the ludicrous
aspects of metempsychosis, but do justice to
its claim and its charm.”
After reviewing and strengthening the evidences in
favor of plural births, Mr. Alger continues: “The
above translation of the ecclesiastical doctrine of the
resurrection into a form scientifically credible, and reconciled
with the immemorial tenet of transmigration,
may seem to some a fanciful speculation, a mere intellectual
toy. Perhaps it is so. It is not propounded
with the slightest dogmatic animus. It is advanced
solely as an illustration of what may possibly be true,
as suggested by the general evidence of the phenomena
of history and the facts of experience. The
thoughts embodied in it are so wonderful, the method
of it so rational, the region of contemplation into
which it lifts the mind is so grand, the prospects it
opens are of such universal reach and import, that
the study of it brings us into full sympathy with the
sublime scope of the idea of immortality, and of a
cosmopolitan vindication of Providence uncovered to
every eye. It takes us out of the littleness of petty
themes and selfish affairs, and makes it easier for us
to believe in the vastest hopes mankind have ever
known. It causes the most magnificent conceptions
of human destiny to seem simply proportional to the
native magnitude and beauty of the powers of the
mind which can conceive such things. After traversing
the grounds here set forth, we feel that if the view
based on them be not the truth, it must be because
God has in reserve for us a sequel greater and lovelier,
not meaner, than our brightest dream hitherto.”
21. In the “Princeton Review” for May, 1881, Professor
Francis Bowen (of Harvard University) publishes
103a very interesting article on “Christian Metempsychosis,”
in which he urges the Christian acceptance
of reincarnation. By his consent we quote a large
portion of it, because it is so able an appeal for the
adoption of this truth, from both a metaphysical and
a Christian standpoint:—
“Our life upon earth is rightly held to be a discipline
and a preparation for a higher and eternal life
hereafter. But if limited to the duration of a single
mortal body, it is so brief as to seem hardly sufficient
for so grand a purpose. Threescore years and ten
must surely be an inadequate preparation for eternity.
But what assurance have we that the probation of the
soul is confined within so narrow limits? Why may
it not be continued, or repeated, through a long series
of successive generations, the same personality animating
one after another an indefinite number of tenements
of flesh, and carrying forward into each the
training it has received, the character it has formed,
the temper and dispositions it has indulged, in the
stage of existence immediately preceding? It need
not remember its past history, even while bearing the
fruits and the consequences of that history deeply ingrained
into its present nature. How many long passages
of any one life are now completely lost to memory,
though they may have contributed largely to build
up the heart and the intellect which distinguish one man
from another! Our responsibility surely is not lessened
by such forgetfulness. We are still accountable
for the misuse of time, though we have forgotten how
or on what we wasted it. We are even now reaping
the bitter fruits, through enfeebled health and vitiated
desires and capacities, of many forgotten acts of self-indulgence,
willfulness, and sin—forgotten just because
104they were so numerous. Then a future life
even in another frail body upon this earth may well be
a state of just and fearful retribution.
“Why should it be thought incredible that the
same soul should inhabit in succession an indefinite
number of mortal bodies, and thus prolong its experience
and its probation till it has become in every sense
ripe for heaven or the final judgment? Even during
this one life our bodies are perpetually changing,
though by a process of decay and restoration which is
so gradual that it escapes our notice. Every human
being thus dwells successively in many bodies, even
daring one short life. This physiological fact seems
to have been known by Plato, as in a well-known passage
of the Phædo, a clear statement of it is put into
the mouth of Cebes, who argues, however, that this
fact affords no sufficient proof of the immortality of
the soul. ‘You may say with reason,’ Cebes is made
to argue, ‘that the soul is lasting, and the body weak
and short-lived in comparison. And every soul may
be said to wear out many bodies, especially in the
course of a long life. For if, while the man is alive,
the body deliquesces and decays, and yet the soul always
weaves her garment anew and repairs the waste,
then of course, when the soul perishes, she must have
on her last garment, and this only will survive her;
but then, again, when the soul is dead, the body will
at last show its native weakness and soon pass into decay.’
And again: ‘Suppose we admit also that, after
death, the souls of some are existing still, and will
exist, and will be born and die again and again, and
that there is a natural strength in the soul which will
hold out and be born many times,—for all this, we
may still be inclined to think that she will be weary
105in the labors of successive births, and may at last succumb
in one of her deaths and utterly perish.’[27]
“If every birth were an act of absolute creation,
the introduction to life of an entirely new creature,
we might reasonably ask why different souls are so
variously constituted at the outset. We do not all
start fair in the race that is set before us, and therefore
all cannot be expected, at the close of one brief
mortal pilgrimage, to reach the same goal, and to be
equally well fitted for the blessings or the penalties of
a fixed state hereafter. The commonest observation
assures us that one child is born with limited capacities
and perhaps a wayward disposition, strong passions,
and a sullen temper; that he has tendencies to
evil which are almost sure to be soon developed. Another,
on the contrary, seems happily endowed from
the start; he is not only amiable, tractable, and kind,
but quick-witted and precocious, a child of many hopes.
The one seems a perverse goblin, while the other has
the early promise of a Cowley or a Pascal. The differences
of external condition also are so vast and obvious
that they seem to detract much from the merit
of a well-spent life and from the guilt of vice and
crime. One is so happily nurtured in a Christian
home, and under so many protecting influences, that
the path of virtue lies straight and open before him,—so
plain, indeed, that even the blind could safely walk
therein; while another seems born to a heritage of
misery, exposure, and crime. The birthplace of one
is in Central Africa, and of another in the heart of
civilized and Christian Europe. Where lingers eternal
justice then? How can such frightful inequalities
be made to appear consistent with the infinite wisdom
and goodness of God?
106“If metempsychosis is included in the scheme of
the divine government of the world, this difficulty disappears
altogether. Considered from this point of
view, every one is born into the state which he has
fairly earned by his own previous history. He carries
with him from one stage of existence to another the
habits or tendencies which he has formed, the dispositions
which he has indulged, the passions which he has
not chastised, but has voluntarily allowed to lead him
into vice and crime. No active interference of retributive
justice is needed, except in selecting for the place
of his new birth a home with appropriate surroundings—perhaps
such a home as through his evil passions
he has made for others. The doctrine of inherited
sin and its consequences is a hard lesson to be
learned. We submit with enforced resignation to the
stern decree, corroborated as it is by every day’s observation
of the ordinary course of this world’s affairs,
that the iniquity of the fathers shall be visited upon
the children even to the third and fourth generation.
But no one can complain of the dispositions and endowments
which he has inherited, so to speak, from
himself; that is, from his former self in a previous
stage of existence. If, for instance, he has neglected
his opportunities and fostered his lower appetites in
his childhood, if he was then wayward and self-indulgent,
indolent, deceitful, and vicious, it is right and
just that, in his manhood and old age, he should experience
the bitter consequences of his youthful follies.
If he has voluntarily made himself a brute, a brute he
must remain. The child is father of the man, who
often inherits from him a sad patrimony. There is
an awful meaning, if we will but take it to heart, in
the solemn announcement of the angel in the apocalyptic
107vision: ‘He that is unjust, let him be unjust
still; and he which is filthy, let him be filthy still;
and he that is righteous, let him be righteous still;
and he that is holy, let him be holy still!’ And it
matters not, so far as the justice of the sentence is
concerned, whether the former self, from whom we
receive this heritage, was the child who, not many
years ago, bore the same name with our present self,
or one who bore a different name, who was born in
another age and perhaps another hemisphere, and of
whose sad history we have not now the faintest remembrance.
We know that our personal identity
actually extends farther back, and links together more
passages of our life, than what is now present to consciousness;
though it is true that we have no direct evidence
of this continuity and sameness of being beyond
what is attested by memory. But we may have indirect
evidence of it from the testimony of others in the case of
our own infancy, or from revelation, or through reasoning
from analogy and from the similarity of cases and
characters. The soul, said the Hindoos, is in the body
like a bird in a cage, or like a pilot who steers a ship,
and seeks a new vessel when the old one is worn out.
“Nothing prevents us, however, from believing that
the probation of any one soul extends continuously
through a long series of successive existences upon
earth, each successive act in the whole life history
being retributive for what went before. For this is
the universal law of being, whether of matter or mind;
everything changes, nothing dies in the sense of being
annihilated. What we call death is only the resolution
of a complex body into its constituent parts, nothing
that is truly one and indivisible being lost or destroyed
in the process. In combustion or any other
108rapid chemical change, according to the admission of
the materialists themselves, not an atom of matter is
ever generated or ever ceases to be; it only escapes
from one combination to enter upon another. Then
the human soul, which, as we know from consciousness,
is absolutely one and indivisible, only passes on
after the dissolution of what was once its home to animate
another body. In this sense we can easily accept
the doctrine of the resurrection of the body. Our
future life is not, at any rate not while the present
administration of this world’s affairs continues, to be
some inconceivable form of merely spiritual being. It
will be clothed again with a body, which may or may
not be in part the same with the one which it has just
left. Leibnitz held that the soul is never entirely divorced
from matter, but carries on some portion of
what was its earthly covering into a subsequent stage
of existence.... We can easily imagine and believe
that every person now living is a representation of some
one who lived perhaps centuries ago under another
name, in another country, it may be not with the same
line of ancestry, and yet one and the same with him
in his inmost being and essential character. His surroundings
are changed; the old house of flesh has
been torn down and rebuilt; but the tenant is still the
same. He has come down from some former generation,
bringing with him what may be either a help or
a hindrance; namely, the character and tendencies
which he there formed and nurtured. And herein is
retribution; he has entered upon a new stage of probation,
and in it he has now to learn what the character
which he there formed naturally leads to when tried
upon a new and perhaps broader theatre. If this be
not so, tell me why men are born with characters so
109unlike and with tendencies so depraved. In a sense
far more literal than was intended by the poet, it may
be true of every country churchyard, that
‘Some mute inglorious Milton there may rest,
Some Cromwell guiltless of his country’s blood.’
They bring with them no recollection of the incidents
of their former life, as such memory would unfit them
for the new part which they have to play. But they
are still the same in the principles and modes of conduct,
in the inmost springs of action, which the forgotten
incidents of their former life have developed
and strengthened. They are the same in all the essential
points which made them formerly a blessing or
a curse to all with whom they came immediately in
contact, and through which they will again become
sources of weal or woe to their environment. Of
course, these inborn tendencies may be either exaggerated
or chastised by the lessons of a new experience,
by the exercise of reflection, and by habitually heeding
or neglecting the monitions of conscience. But they
still exist as original tendencies, and as such they must
make either the upward or the downward path more
easy, more natural, and more likely to reach a goal so
remote that it would otherwise be unattainable.
“To make this more clear, let me refer to the pregnant
distinction so admirably illustrated by Kant between
what he calls the Intelligible Character and the
Empirical or acquired Character. The former is the
primitive foundation on which the latter, which directly
determines our conduct for the time being, is
built. To a great extent, though not entirely, we are
what we are through the influence of what have been
our surroundings—through our education, our companions,
our habits, and our associations. But these
110influences must have had a primitive basis to work
upon, and can only modify the operation of the native
germs, not change their nature; and they will modify
these more or less profoundly according as they are
more or less amenable to outside influences and manifest
more or less decidedly a bias in one direction or
another. What the future plant will be depends
much more on the specific nature of the seed which is
sown than on the fertility or barrenness of the soil into
which it is cast. The latter only determine whether
it shall be a vigorous plant or a weak one, whether in
fact it shall grow at all or only rot in the ground; but
they do not determine the specific direction of its development,
whether it shall be an oak, a willow, or an
ivy-bush. The Empirical or acquired Character, as it
is open to observation, is a phenomenon; it is what
the man appears to be, or what he has become under
the shaping influence of the circumstances to which he
has been exposed. But the Intelligible Character, the
inmost kernel of his real being, is a noumenon, and escapes
external observation; we can judge of its nature
only indirectly from its effects; that is to say, from
the conduct which it has coöperated to produce. A
change taking place in any substance must be the joint
result of two factors; namely, its proper cause operating
upon it from without, and the thing’s own nature
or internal constitution. Thus the same degree of
heat acts very differently upon different substances,
say, on wax, iron, water, clay, or powder. In like
manner, a given motive, say, the desire of wealth,
when acting on different persons, though with the same
strength or intensity, may lead to very dissimilar results;
it makes one man a thief and another a miser,
renders one envious and another energetic and industrious.
111If frequently indulged, it forms a fixed habit,
and thus becomes an element in the acquired or empirical
character.
“Now Kant, with the bias of a necessitarian, places
our freedom and our responsibility in the realm of
noumena, attributing them exclusively to our Intelligible
Character. As to the acquired character when
once formed, he says we must act in accordance with
it, and therefore we are not accountable for the particular
act to which it led, since that we could not help.
After I have once formed a habit of lying or stealing,
should an opportunity and temptation recur, I must
repeat the offense. But our inborn character, which
expresses what we really are, as a noumenon, lies outside
of time, space, and causality, and therefore cannot
be led astray by temptation or external circumstances,
but is entirely free. Herein solely consists
our merit or our guilt. Hence Kant would make us
responsible not for the particular crime, which we
could not help committing, but for being such a person
as to be capable of that crime. We are accountable
not for what we do, but for what we are. We are to
be punished not for stealing this horse, but for being
a rogue, or thief in grain, for being naturally inclined
to stealing....
“I know not how it may seem to others, but to me
there is something inexpressibly consolatory and inspiring
in the thought that the great and good of other
days have not finally accomplished their earthly career,
have not left us desolate, but that they are still with us,
in the flesh, though we know them not, and though
in one sense they do not really know themselves, because
they have no remembrance of a former life in
which they were trained for the work which they are
112now doing. But they are essentially the same beings,
for they have the same intellect and character as before,
and sameness in these two respects is all that
constitutes our notion of personal identity. We are
unwilling to believe that their beneficent activity was
limited to one short life on earth, at the close of which
there opened to them an eternity without change,
without farther trial or action, and seemingly having
no other purpose than unlimited enjoyment. Such a
conception of immortality is exposed to Schopenhauer’s
sarcasm, that if effort and progress are possible only
in the present life, and no want or suffering can be
endured except as the penalties of sin, there remains
for heaven only the weariness of nothing to do. An
eternity either of reward or punishment would seem
to be inadequately earned by one brief period of probation.
It is far more reasonable to believe that the
future life which we are taught to expect will be similar
to the present one, and will be spent in this world,
though we shall carry forward to it the burden or the
blessing entailed upon us by our past career. Besides
the spiritual meaning of the doctrine of regeneration,
besides the new birth which is ‘of water and of the
Spirit,’ there may be a literal meaning in the solemn
words of the Saviour, ‘Except a man be born again,
he cannot see the kingdom of God.’...
“I should be sorry to believe that that remarkable
group of excellent scholars, thinkers, and divines, the
Port-Royalists, who upheld the cause of Jansenism
for three quarters of a century, have finally passed
away from earth. On the contrary, if anywhere in
these later times the model of a Christian scholar and
historian could be found, we might well say that the
spirit of Tillemont lives again in him. If we could
113find one who united in himself all the best qualities
of a Christian teacher, stainless in heart and life, we
might well believe that it was Lancelot in another
earthly form. For either Pascal or Arnauld, it must
be admitted that we should not know where to look;
if their spirits are yet in this world, they must be in
the obscurity of some lowly station.[28]
“All this speculation, I repeat, is completely fanciful,
and can serve no other purpose than to show,
even if the doctrine of metempsychosis were true, that
we should not be able to identify one person in any
two of his successive appearances upon earth. We
surely could not know of him in this respect any more
than he knows of himself; and, as already said, the
total break in memory at the beginning of every successive
life must prevent the newly born from recognizing
the oneness of his own being with any former
existence in an earthly shape.
“Curiously enough this want of self-knowledge is
confessed in the only case in which we have a direct
assertion in Scripture (if language is to be interpreted
in its ordinary literal meaning and not strained
into a figurative sense), that one of the heroes of the
olden time had reappeared upon earth under a new
name, as the forerunner of a new dispensation. At
the time of the Saviour there appears to have been a
general expectation among the Jews that the coming
of the Messiah was to be heralded by the reappearance
upon earth of the prophet Elijah, this expectation
being founded upon the text in Malachi: ‘Behold,
I will send you Elijah the prophet before the
coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord.’
114Early in the public ministry of John the Baptist, we
read that the belief prevailed among his hearers that
this prophecy was fulfilled in him. But when directly
asked, ‘Art thou Elias?’ he replied, ‘I am not. Art
thou that prophet? And he answered, No.’ He had
no memory of his former life under that name; and
though he must have been aware of the popular belief
upon the subject, and of the many points of similarity
between his own career and that of the great restorer
of the worship of the true God at an earlier period,
he was too honest to claim an authority which he did
not positively know to belong to him.
“Yet we learn that our Lord subsequently twice
declared, in very distinct language, that Elijah and
John the Baptist were really one and the same person.
Once, while John was still alive but in prison, Jesus
told the multitude who thronged around him, ‘Among
them that are born of women there hath not risen a
greater than John the Baptist;’ and he directly
goes on to assert, ‘If ye will receive it, this is Elias,
which was for to come.’ (Matt. xi. 14.) And again,
after John was beheaded, Jesus said to his disciples,
‘Elias is come already and they knew him not, but
have done unto him whatsoever they listed.’ ‘Then
the disciples understood that he spake unto them of
John the Baptist.’ (Matt. xvii. 12, 13.) Still again,
in the scene on the mount of Transfiguration. ‘Behold
there talked with him two men, which were Moses
and Elias;’ and it is said of the three disciples who
were then in company with Jesus that, ‘When they
were awake, they saw his glory and the two men that
stood with him.’ (Luke ix. 30, 32.) That the commentators
have not been willing to receive, in their
obvious and literal meaning, assertions so direct and
115so frequently repeated as these, but have attempted
to explain them away in a non-natural and metaphorical
sense, is a fact which proves nothing but the existence
of an invincible prejudice against the doctrine
of the transmigration of souls....
“Assuming the doctrine to be well founded, it is
for every person to determine with what character he
will leave the world at the close of one stage of his
earthly being, believing that with this same character
thus trained for weal or woe he is inevitably at once
to begin a new life, and thus either to rise or fall
farther than ever. It seems to me that the dogma of
a future life, so prolonged through a countless succession
of other lives on earth until it becomes an immortality,
is thus brought home to one with a force, a
vividness and certainty, of which in no other form it
is susceptible. It has been said that no prudent man,
if the election were offered to him, would choose to
live his present live over again; and as he whom the
world calls prudent does not usually cherish any lofty
aspirations, the saying is probably true. We are all
so conscious of the many errors and sins that we have
committed that the retrospect is a saddening one;
and worldly wisdom would probably whisper, ‘It is
best to stop here, and not try such a career over
again.’ But every one would ardently desire a renewal
of his earthly experience if assured that he could enter
upon it under better auspices, if he believed that what
we call death is not the end of all things even here
below, but that the soul is then standing upon the
threshold of a new stage of earthly existence, which
is to be brighter or darker than the one it is just
quitting, according as there is carried forward into it
a higher or lower purpose....
116“This doctrine also suggests, as it seems to me, a
clearer and more satisfactory explanation than would
otherwise be possible of the fall of man through disobedience
and its consequences, as narrated in Genesis
and interpreted by St. Paul. Certainly the primeval
man, the Adam of each one of us, when he first
through the inspiration of Deity ‘became a living
soul,’ was born into a paradise, an Eden, of entire
purity and innocence, and in that state he talked
directly with God. There was also given to him
through his conscience the revelation of a divine law,
an absolute command, to preserve this blessed state
through restraining his appetites and lower impulses
to action, and making the love of holiness superior
even to the love of knowledge. But man was tempted
by his appetites to transgress this law; he aspired
after a knowledge of good and evil, which can be attained
only through experience of evil, and he thereby
fell from innocence into a state of sin, which necessarily
corrupted his whole future being. The habit
of disobedience once formed, sin in the same person
has a self-continuing and self-multiplying power.
The stain carried down from a former life becomes
darker and more inveterate in the life that follows.
We have no reason to complain of the corruption of
human nature, for the world is what we have made
it to be by our own act. The burden has not been
transmitted to us by others, but has been inherited
from ourselves; that is, from our former selves. Redemption
from it by man’s own effort thus became
impossible. This is death, moral death, the only death
of which a human soul is capable.
“Thus far we have considered metempsychosis as
a means of retribution; that is, of awarding to each
117soul in the next future life upon which it is entering
that compensation either of weal or woe which it has
earned for itself,—has in fact necessarily entailed
upon itself by its conduct in the life which it has just
completed. But the transmigration of souls may be
regarded also in another light, as that portion of the
divine government of this world’s affairs which maintains
distributive justice, since, through its agency, in
the long run, all inequalities of condition and favoring
or unfavoring circumstances may be compensated,
and each person may have his or her equitable share
of opportunities for good and of the requisite means
for discipline and improvement. If our view be confined
within the limits of a single earthly life, it must
be confessed that the inequality is glaring enough, so
that it seems to justify the honest doubts of the
trembling inquirer, while it has offered a broad mark
for the scoffs and declamation of the confirmed unbeliever.
“This hypothesis—and I do not claim for it any
other character than that of a highly probable and
consolatory hypothesis—also throws a new and welcome
light upon the deep and dark problem of the
origin of evil. In the first place, according to the
views which have now been taken, the sufferings
which are the immediate consequence and punishment
of sin are properly left out of the account, since these
evince the goodness of God no less than the happiness
resulting from virtue, the purpose in both cases being
to advance man’s highest interests by the improvement
of his moral character; just as the affectionate parent
rewards the obedience and punishes the faults of his
child, love equally constraining him to adopt either
course. And how many of the evils borne both by
118individuals and by communities are attributable directly
to their own misconduct, to their willful disregard
of the monitions of conscience! The body
which is now languid from inaction through sloth,
and enfeebled or racked by disease, might have been
active, vigorous, and sound, prompt to second every
wish of its owner, and ministering to his enjoyment
through every sense and limb. And could we know
all, could we extend our vision over the whole history
of our former self, how would our estimate of this
purely retributive character of our present suffering
be enlarged and confirmed! It would then be evident
that no portion of it is gratuitous or purposeless. And
the community which is now torn with civil dissension,
desolated by war, or prostrated in an unequal
strife with its rivals, might have been peaceful, affluent,
and flourishing, if rulers and ruled had heeded
the stern calls of duty, instead of blindly following
their own tumultuous passions. And as nations, too,
have a continuous life, like that of a river, through a
constant change of their constituent parts, many of
their woes are clearly attributable to the misdeeds of
their former selves. Once admit the great truth that
virtue, not happiness, is man’s highest interest, and
most of the pains of this life indicate the goodness
and justice of God quite as much as its pleasures.
“But according to the theory which we are now considering,
a still larger deduction must be made from the
amount of apparent evil at any one time visible in
the world. All the inequalities in the lot of mankind,
which have prompted what are perhaps the bitterest
of all complaints, and have served skeptics like Hume
and J. S. Mill as a reason for the darkest imputations
upon divine justice in the government of the world,
119disappear from the picture altogether. Excepting
only what we have just considered, the retributive
consequences of more or less sin, there are no inequalities.
All start from the same point, and journey
through the same vicissitudes of existence, exhausting
sooner or later all varieties of condition. Prince and
peasant, bond and free, barbarian and cultured, all
share alike whatever weal or woe there is in the world,
because all must at some future time change places
with each other. But after these two large deductions
from the amount complained of, what remains?
Very little, certainly, which we cannot even now see
through; that is, which we cannot assign an adequate
reason for; and to the eye of faith nothing remains.
The world becomes a mirror which reflects without
blot or shadow the infinite goodness of its Creator and
Governor. Death remains; but that is no evil, for
what we call death is only the introduction to another
life on earth, and if this be not a higher and better
life than the one just ended, it is our own fault. Our
life is really continuous, and the fact that the subsequent
stages of it lie beyond our present range of immediate
vision is of no more importance, and no more
an evil, than the corresponding fact that we do not
now remember our previous existence in antecedent
ages. Death alone, or in itself considered, apart from
the antecedent dread of it which is irrational, and
apart from the injury to the feelings of the survivors,
which is a necessary consequence of that attachment
to each other from which, so much of our happiness
springs, is not even an apparent evil; it is
mere change and development, like the passage from
the embryonic to the adult condition, from the blossom
to the fruit.”
12022. In “Ways of the Spirit, and other Essays,” by
Professor Frederick Henry Hedge, the twelfth chapter,
upon “The Human Soul,” strongly advocates reincarnation.
By the publishers’ consent we reprint the
pages referring to it:—
“We reach back with our recollection and find no
beginning of existence. Who of us knows anything
except by report of the first two years of earthly life?
No one remembers the time when he first said ‘I,’
or thought ‘I.’ We began to exist for others before
we began to exist for ourselves. Our experience is
not co-extensive with our being, and memory does not
comprehend it. We bear not the root, but the root us.
“What is the root? We call it soul. Our soul,
we call it; properly speaking, it is not ours, but we
are its. It is not a part of us, but we are a part of
it. It is not one article in an inventory of articles
which together make up our individuality, but the
root of that individuality. It is larger than we are,
and other than we are—that is, than our conscious
self. The conscious self does not begin until some
time after the birth of the individual. It is not aboriginal,
but a product,—as it were, the blossoming of
an individuality. We may suppose countless souls
which never bear this product, which never blossom
into self. And the soul which does so blossom exists
before that blossom unfolds.
“How long before, it is impossible to say; whether
the birth, for example, of a human individual is the
soul’s beginning to be; whether a new soul is furnished
to each new body, or the body given to a preexisting
soul. It is a question on which theology
throws no light, and which psychology but faintly
illustrates. But so far as that faint illustration reaches
121it favors the supposition of preëxistence. That supposition
seems best to match the supposed continued
existence of the soul hereafter. Whatever had a beginning
in time, it should seem must end in time.
The eternal destination which faith ascribes to the
soul presupposes an eternal origin. On the other
hand, if the preëxistence of the soul were assured it
would carry the assurance of immortality.
An obvious objection, and one often urged against
this hypothesis, is the absence of any recollection of a
previous life. If the soul existed before its union with
this present organization, why does it never recall any
circumstance, scene, or experience of its former state?
There have been those who professed to remember a
past existence; but without regarding those pretended
reminiscences, or regarding them only as illusions,
I answer that the previous existence may not
have been a conscious existence. In that case there
would have been no recorded experience, and consequently
nothing to recall. But suppose a conscious
existence antecedent to the present, the soul could not
preserve the record of a former organization. The
new organization with its new entries must necessarily
efface the record of the old. For memory depends on
the continuity of association. When the thread of
that continuity is broken, the knowledge of the past
is gone. If, in a state of unconsciousness, one were
taken entirely out of his present surroundings; if
falling asleep in one set of circumstances, like Christopher
Sly in that play, he were to wake in another,
were to wake to entirely new conditions; especially if
during that sleep his body were to undergo a change,—he
would lose on waking all knowledge of the
former life for want of a connecting link between it
122and the new. And this, according to the supposition,
is precisely what has happened to the soul at birth.
The birth into the present was the death of the old,—‘a
sleep and a forgetting.’ The soul went to sleep
in one body, it woke in a new. The sleep is a gulf of
oblivion between the two.
And a happy thing, if the soul preëxisted, it is
for us that we remember nothing of its former life.
The memory of a past existence would be a drag on
the present, engrossing our attention much to the prejudice
of this life’s interests and claims. The backward-looking
soul would dwell in the past instead of
the present, and miss the best uses of life.
But though on the supposition of a former existence
the soul would not be likely to preserve the
record of that existence, it would nevertheless retain
the effect. It would not, on assuming its present
conditions, be as though it had never before been. Its
past experience would essentially modify it; it would
take a character from its former state. If a moral
and intellectual being, it would bring into the world
of its present destination certain tendencies and dispositions,
the growth of a previous life. And thus
the moral law and the moral nature of the soul would
assert themselves with retributions transcending the
limits of a single existence, and reaching on from life
to life of the pilgrim soul.
It is commonly conceded that there are native
differences of character in men,—different propensities,
tempers, not wholly explained by difference of
circumstances or education. They show themselves
where circumstances and education have been the
same; they seem to be innate. These are sometimes
ascribed to organization. But organization is not
123final. That, again, requires to be explained. According
to my thinking, it is the soul that makes organization,
not organization the soul. The supposition of a
previous existence would best explain these differences
as something carried over from life to life,—the
harvest of seed that was sown in other states, and
whose fruit remains, although the sowing is remembered
no more.
“This was the theory of the most learned and acute
of the Christian Fathers (Origen), and though never
adopted and sanctioned by the church, has been occasionally
revived in later time. Of all the theories respecting
the origin of the soul it seems to me the most
plausible, and therefore the one most likely to throw
light on the question of a life to come.”
V. THE POETRY OF REINCARNATION IN WESTERN LITERATURE. — PART I. AMERICAN POETRY. — PREËXISTENCE. — A MYSTERY. — THE METEMPSYCHOSIS OF THE PINE. — THE POET IN THE EAST. — THE METEMPSYCHOSIS. — IDENTITY. — ONE THOUSAND YEARS AGO. — THE FINAL THOUGHT. — FROM “A POEM READ AT BROWN UNIVERSITY.” — FROM “BEYOND.” — FROM “RAIN IN SUMMER.” — FROM “THE TWILIGHT.” — FROM “FACING WEST FROM CALIFORNIA’S SHORES.” — FROM “LEAVES OF GRASS.” — STANZAS. — PART II. BRITISH POETRY. — FROM “INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY.” — TO MY DAUGHTER. — A REMEMBRANCE. — RETURNING DREAMS. — FROM “DE PROFUNDIS.” BIRTH. — SUDDEN LIGHT. — FROM “CATO’S SOLILOQUY ON THE SOUL.” — FROM “THE MYSTIC.” — FROM “A RECORD.” — OF MEMORY. — FROM “PARACELSUS.” — FROM “ONE WORD MORE.” — FROM “CHRISTINA.” — THE DREAM OF PYTHAGORAS. — DR. ARNOLD. — PART III. CONTINENTAL POETRY. — TRANSMIGRATION. — “TO THE INVISIBLE ONE.” — THE TRANSMIGRATION OF SOULS. (LA MÉTEMPSYCOSE.) — THE SONG OF THE EARTH SPIRITS. IN GOETHE’S “FAUST.” — THE SECRET OF REMINISCENCE. — A SONNET ON CAUCASUS. — PART IV. PLATONIC POETS. — PREËXISTENCE. IN IMITATION OF MILTON. — THE RETREAT. — A HYMN ON HEAVEN.
125
126Poets, the first instructors of mankind.—Horace.
Poets are the truest diviners of nature.—Bulwer-Lytton.
Poets utter great and wise things which they do not themselves understand.—Plato.
Poets should be lawgivers; that is, the boldest lyric inspiration
should not chide and insult, but should announce and lead.—Emerson.
We call those poets who are first to mark
Through earth’s dull mist the coming of the dawn,
Who see in twilight’s gloom the first pale spark
While others only note that day is gone.
Holmes.
O brave poets, keep back nothing,
Nor mix falsehood with the whole.
Look up Godward! Speak the truth in
Worthy song from earnest soul!
Hold, in high poetic duty
Truest Truth, the fairest beauty.
Mrs. Browning.
The spirit of the Poets came at morn
To Sinai, summoned by the Lord’s command,
Singers and Seers; those born and those unborn
The chosen souls of men, a solemn band.
The noble army ranged, in viewless might
Around that mountain peak which pierces heaven;
Greater and lesser teachers, sons of light,
Their number was ten thousand score and seven.
Then Allah took a covenant with his own,
Saying, “My wisdom and my word receive.
Speak of me unto men, known or unknown,
Heard or unheard: bid such as will believe.”
“Bear witness then,” spake Allah, “souls most dear,
I am your Lord, and ye heralds of mine.”
Thenceforward through all lands his Poets bear
The message of the mystery divine.
Edwin Arnold.
127
V.
THE POETRY OF REINCARNATION IN WESTERN LITERATURE.
The poets are the seers of the race. Their best
work comes from the intuitional heights where they
dwell, conveying truths beyond reason, not understood
even by themselves, but merely transmitted through
them. They are the few tall pines towering above the
common forest to an extraordinary exaltation, where
they catch the earliest and latest sunbeams which prolong
their day far beyond the limits below, and penetrating
into the rare upper currents whose whisperings
seldom descend to the crowd.
However diverse the forms of their expression, the
heart of it is thoroughly harmonious. They are always
prophets voicing a divine message received in the
mount, and in these modern days they are almost the
only prophets we have. Therefore it is not a mere
pleasantry to collect their testimony upon an unusual
theme. When it is found that, though working independently,
they are in deep accord upon reincarnation,
the inevitable conclusion is that their common inspiration
means something—namely, that their gospel
is worth receiving.
It may be objected that these poems are merely
dreamy effusions along the same line of lunacy, with
128no real attachment to the solid foundations upon which
all wholesome poetry is based; that they are kinks in
the intellects of genius displaying the weakness of
men otherwise strong. But so universal a feeling cannot
be disposed of in that way, especially when it is
found to contribute to the solution of life’s mystery.
All the poets believe in immortality, though unaided
reason and observation cannot demonstrate it. Some
inexperienced people deride the fact that nearly all
poetry centres upon the theme of Love—the most illogical
and airy of sentiments. But the deepest sense
of the world is nourished by the certainty of these
“vague” truths. So the presence of reincarnation in
the creed of the poets may give us courage to confide
in our own impressions, for “all men are poets at
heart.” What they have dared publish we may venture
to believe and will find a source of strength.
It is well known that the idea of reincarnation
abounds in oriental poetry. But as our purpose is to
demonstrate the prevalence of the same thought among
our own poets, most of whom are wholly independent
of eastern influence, we shall here confine our attention
to the spontaneous utterances of American and
European poets. We shall find that the great majority
of the highest occidental poets lean toward this
thought, and many of them unhesitatingly avow it.
For convenience we divide our study into four parts,
comprising forty-two authors.
Part I.
American Poets, (twelve.)
II.
British Poets, (seventeen.)
III.
Continental Poets, (six.)
IV.
Platonic Poets, (seven.)
129
BY PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE.
While sauntering through the crowded street
Some half-remembered face I meet,
Albeit upon no mortal shore
That face, methinks, hath smiled before.
Lost in a gay and festal throng
I tremble at some tender song
Set to an air whose golden bars
I must have heard in other stars.
In sacred aisles I pause to share
The blessing of a priestly prayer,
When the whole scene which greets mine eyes
In some strange mode I recognize,
As one whose every mystic part
I feel prefigured in my heart.
At sunset as I calmly stand
A stranger on an alien strand
Familiar as my childhood’s home
Seems the long stretch of wave and foam.
A ship sails toward me o’er the bay
And what she comes to do and say
I can foretell. A prescient lore
Springs from some life outlived of yore.
O swift, instructive, startling gleams
Of deep soul-knowledge: not as dreams
For aye ye vaguely dawn and die,
But oft with lightning certainty
Pierce through the dark oblivious brain
To make old thoughts and memories plain:
130Thoughts which perchance must travel back
Across the wild bewildering track
Of countless æons; memories far
High reaching as yon pallid star,
Unknown, scarce seen, whose flickering grace
Faints on the outmost rings of space.
BY J. G. WHITTIER.
The river hemmed with leaving trees
Wound through the meadows green,
A low blue line of mountain showed
The open pines between.
One sharp tall peak above them all
Clear into sunlight sprang,
I saw the river of my dreams,
The mountain that I sang.
No clue of memory led me on,
But well the ways I knew,
A feeling of familiar things
With every footstep grew.
Yet ne’er before that river’s rim
Was pressed by feet of mine,
Never before mine eyes had crossed
That broken mountain line.
A presence strange at once and known
Walked with me as my guide,
The skirts of some forgotten life
Trailed noiseless at my side.
131Was it a dim-remembered dream
Or glimpse through æons old?
The secret which the mountains kept
The river never told.
BY BAYARD TAYLOR.
As when the haze of some wan moonlight makes
Familiar fields a land of mystery,
Where, chill and strange, a ghostly presence wakes
In flower or bush or tree,
Another life, the life of day o’erwhelms,
The past from present consciousness takes hue
As we remember vast and cloudy realms
Our feet have wandered through:
So, oft, some moonlight of the mind makes dumb
The stir of outer thought: wide open seems
The gate where through strange sympathies have come
The secret of our dreams:
The source of fine impressions, shooting deep
Below the falling plummet of the sense
Which strike beyond all Time and backward sweep
Through all intelligence.
We touch the lower life of beast and clod
And the long progress of the ages see
From blind old Chaos, ere the breath of God
Moved it to harmony.
All outward vision yields to that within
Whereof nor creed nor canon holds the key;
132We only feel that we have ever been
And evermore shall be.
And thus I know, by memories unfurled
In rarer moods, and many a nameless sign
That once in Time and somewhere in the world
I was a towering pine.
Rooted upon a cape that once o’erhung
The entrance to a mountain gorge
The wintry shadow of a peak was flung
Long after rise of sun.
There did I clutch the granite with firm feet,
There shake my boughs above the roaring gulf,
When mountain whirlwinds through the passes beat
And howled the mountain wolf.
· · · · ·
Some blind harmonic instinct pierced the rind
Of that slow life which made me straight and high,
And I became a harp for every wind,
A voice for every sky.
And thus for centuries my rhythmic chant
Rolled down the gorge or surged about the hill,
Gentle or stern or sad or jubilant,
At every season’s will.
No longer memory whispers whence arose
The doom that tore me from my place of pride,
Whether by storms that load the peak with snows,
Or hands of men I died.
All sense departed with the boughs I wore,
And though I moved with mighty gales at strife
A mast upon the seas, I sang no more,
And music was my life.
133Yet still that life awakens, brings again
Its airy anthems, resonant and long,
Till earth and sky transfigured fill my brain
With rhythmic sweeps of song.
Thence am I made a poet; thence are sprung
Those shadowy motions of the soul that reach
Beyond all grasp of art,—for which the soul
Is ignorant of speech.
And if some wild full-gathered harmony
Rolls its unbroken music through my line,
There lives and murmurs, faintly though it be,
The spirit of the pine.
BY BAYARD TAYLOR.
The poet came to the land of the East
When spring was in the air,
The East was dressed for a wedding feast
So young she seemed and fair,
And the poet knew the land of the East
His soul was native there.
All things to him were the visible forms
Of early and precious dreams,
Familiar visions that mocked his quest
Beside the western streams,
Or gleamed in the gold of the clouds unrolled
In the sunset’s dying beams.
134
BY T. B. ALDRICH.
I know my own creation was divine.
Strewn on the breezy continents I see
The veinéd shells and burnished scales which once
Enclosed my being,—husks that had their use;
I brood on all the shapes I must attain
Before I reach the Perfect, which is God,
And dream my dream, and let the rabble go;
For I am of the mountains and the sea,
The deserts, and the caverns in the earth,
The catacombs and fragments of old worlds.
I was a spirit on the mountain-tops,
A perfume in the valleys, a simoom
On arid deserts, a nomadic wind
Roaming the universe, a tireless Voice.
I was ere Romulus and Remus were;
I was ere Nineveh and Babylon;
I was, and am, and evermore shall be,
Progressing, never reaching to the end.
A hundred years I trembled in the grass,
The delicate trefoil that muffled warm
A slope on Ida; for a hundred years
Moved in the purple gyre of those dark flowers
The Grecian women strew upon the dead.
Under the earth, in fragrant glooms, I dwelt;
Then in the veins and sinews of a pine
On a lone isle, where, from the Cyclades,
A mighty wind, like a leviathan,
Ploughed through the brine, and from those solitudes
Sent Silence, frightened. To and fro I swayed,
Drawing the sunshine from the stooping clouds.
Suns came and went, and many a mystic moon,
135Orbing and waning, and fierce meteors,
Leaving their lurid ghosts to haunt the night.
I heard loud voices by the sounding shore,
The stormy sea-gods, and from fluted conchs
Wild music, and strange shadows floated by,
Some moaning and some singing. So the years
Clustered about me, till the hand of God
Let down the lightning from a sultry sky,
Splintered the pine and split the iron rock;
And from my odorous prison-house a bird,
I in its bosom, darted: so we flew,
Turning the brittle edge of one high wave,
Island and tree and sea-gods left behind!
Free as the air from zone to zone I flew,
Far from the tumult to the quiet gates
Of daybreak; and beneath me I beheld
Vineyards, and rivers that like silver threads
Ran through the green and gold of pasture-lands,
And here and there a hamlet, a white rose,
And here and there a city, whose slim spires
And palace-roofs and swollen domes uprose
Like scintillant stalagmites in the sun;
I saw huge navies battling with a storm
By ragged reefs along the desolate coasts,—
And lazy merchantmen, that crawled, like flies,
Over the blue enamel of the sea
To India or the icy Labradors.
A century was as a single day.
What is a day to an immortal soul?
A breath, no more. And yet I hold one hour
Beyond all price,—that hour when from the sky
I circled near and nearer to the earth,
Nearer and nearer, till I brushed my wings
Against the pointed chestnuts, where a stream,
That foamed and chattered over pebbly shoals,
Fled through the briony, and with a shout
136Leapt headlong down a precipice; and there,
Gathering wild-flowers in the cool ravine,
Wandered a woman more divinely shaped
Than any of the creatures of the air,
Or river-goddesses, or restless shades
Of noble matrons marvellous in their time
For beauty and great suffering; and I sung,
I charmed her thought, I gave her dreams, and then
Down from the dewy atmosphere I stole
And nestled in her bosom. There I slept
From moon to moon, while in her eyes a thought
Grew sweet and sweeter, deepening like the dawn—
A mystical forewarning! When the stream,
Breaking through leafless brambles and dead leaves,
Piped shriller treble, and from chestnut-boughs
The fruit dropt noiseless through the autumn night,
I gave a quick, low cry, as infants do:
We weep when we are born, not when we die!
So was it destined; and thus came I here,
To walk the earth and wear the form of Man,
To suffer bravely as becomes my state,
One step, one grade, one cycle nearer God.
BY T. B. ALDRICH.
Somewhere—in desolate wind-swept space—
In twilight-land,—in no-man’s land,
Two hurrying shapes met face to face
And bade each other stand.
“And who are you?” cried one agape,
Shuddering in the gloaming light.
“I know not,” said the other shape,
“I only died last night.”
137
BY CHARLES G. LELAND.
Thou and I in spirit land
One thousand years ago,
Watched the waves beat on the strand,
Ceaseless ebb and flow,
Vowed to love and ever love,
One thousand years ago.
Thou and I in greenwood shade
Nine hundred years ago
Heard the wild dove in the glade
Murmuring soft and low,
Vowed to love for evermore
Nine hundred years ago.
Thou and I in yonder star
Eight hundred years ago
Saw strange forms of light afar
In wildest beauty glow.
All things change, but love endures
Now as long ago.
Thou and I in Norman halls
Seven hundred years ago
Heard the warden on the walls
Loud his trumpets blow,
“Ton amors sera tojors,”
Seven hundred years ago.
Thou and I in Germany,
Six hundred years ago.
Then I bound the red cross on,
“True love, I must go,
138But we part to meet again
In the endless flow.”
Thou and I in Syrian plains
Five hundred years ago
Felt the wild fire in our veins
To a fever glow.
All things die, but love lives on
Now as long ago.
Thou and I in shadow land
Four hundred years ago
Saw strange flowers bloom on the strand,
Heard strange breezes blow.
In the ideal, love is real,
This alone I know.
Thou and I in Italy
Three hundred years ago
Lived in faith and died for God,
Felt the fagots glow,
Ever new and ever true,
Three hundred years ago.
Thou and I on Southern seas
Two hundred years ago
Felt the perfumed even-breeze,
Spoke in Spanish by the trees,
Had no care or woe.
Life went dreamily in song,
Two hundred years ago.
Thou and I ’mid Northern snows
One hundred years ago
Led an iron silent life
And were glad to flow
139Onward into changing death,
One hundred years ago.
Thou and I but yesterday
Met in fashion’s show.
Love, did you remember me,
Love of long ago?
Yes: we kept the fond oath sworn
One thousand years ago.
BY MAURICE THOMPSON.
What is the grandest thought
Toward which the soul has wrought?
Has it the spirit form,
And the power of a storm?
Comes it of prophecy
(That borrows light of uncreated fires)
Or of transmitted strains of memory
Sent down through countless sires?
· · · · ·
Which way are my feet set?
Through infinite changes yet
Shall I go on,
Nearer and nearer drawn
To thee,
God of eternity?
How shall the Human grow,
By changes fine and slow,
To thy perfection from the life-dawn sought?
What is the highest thought?
Ah! these dim memories,
Of when thy voice spake lovingly to me,
Under the Eden trees,
140Saying, “Lord of all creation thou shalt be,”—
How they haunt me and elude—
How they hover, how they brood
On the horizon, fading yet dying not!
What is the final thought?
What if I once did dwell
In the lowest dust germ-cell,
A faint fore-hint of life called forth of God,
Waxing and struggling on,
Through the long flickering dawn,
The awful while His feet earth’s bosom trod?
What if He shaped me so,
And caused my life to blow
Into the full soul-flower in Eden-air?
Lo! now I am not good,
And I stand in solitude,
Calling to Him (and yet He answers not):
What is the final thought?
What myriads of years up from the germ!
What countless ages back from man to worm!
And yet from man to God,—oh, help me now!
A cold despair is beading on my brow!
I may see Him, and seeing know Him not!
What is the highest thought?
· · · · ·
So comes, at last,
The answer from the Vast....
Not so, there is a rush of wings—
Earth feels the presence of invisible things,
Closer and closer drawn
In rosy mists of dawn!
One dies to conquer Death
And to burst the awful tomb—
Lo, with his dying breath
He blows love into bloom!
141Love! Faith is born of it!
Death is the scorn of it!
It fills the earth and thrills the heavens above:
And God is love,
And life is love, and, though we heed it not,
Love is the final thought.
BY N. P. WILLIS.
But what a mystery this erring mind?
It wakes within a frame of various powers
A stranger in a new and wondrous world.
It brings an instinct from some other sphere,
For its fine senses are familiar all,
And with the unconscious habit of a dream
It calls and they obey. The priceless sight
Springs to its curious organ, and the ear
Learns strangely to detect the articulate air
In its unseen divisions, and the tongue
Gets its miraculous lesson with the rest,
And in the midst of an obedient throng
Of well trained ministers, the mind goes forth
To search the secrets of its new found home.
BY J. T. TROWBRIDGE.
From her own fair dominions
Long since, with shorn pinions
My spirit was banished.
But above her still hover in vigils and dreams
Ethereal visitants, voices and gleams
That forever remind her
Of something behind her
Long vanished.
142Through the listening night
With mysterious flight
Pass winged intimations;
Like stars shot from heaven, their still voices call to me—
Far and departing they signal and call to me,
Strangely beseeching me,
Chiding yet teaching me
Patience.
BY H. W. LONGFELLOW.
Thus the seer, with vision clear,
Sees forms appear and disappear
In the perpetual round of strange
Mysterious change
From birth to death, from death to birth,
From earth to heaven, from heaven to earth,
Till glimpses more sublime
Of things unseen before
Unto his wondering eyes reveal
The universe, as an immeasurable wheel
Turning for evermore
In the rapid rushing river of time.
BY JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.
Sometimes a breath floats by me,
And odor from Dreamland sent,
Which makes the ghost seem nigh me
Of a something that came and went,
Of a life lived somewhere, I know not
In what diviner sphere:
143Of mem’ries that come not and go not;
Like music once heard by an ear
That cannot forget or reclaim it;
A something so shy, it would shame it
To make it a show.
A something too vague, could I name it,
For others to know:
As though I had lived it and dreamed it,
As though I had acted and schemed it
Long ago.
And yet, could I live it over,
This Life which stirs in my brain;
Could I be both maiden and lover,
Moon and tide, bee and clover,
As I seem to have been, once again,—
Could I but speak and show it,
This pleasure more sharp than pain,
Which baffles and lures me so,—
The world would not lack a poet,
Such as it had
In the ages glad,
Long ago.
BY WALT WHITMAN.
Facing west from California’s shores,
Inquiring, tireless, seeking what is yet unfound,
I, a child, very old, over waves, towards the house of maternity, the land of migrations, look afar,
Look off the shores of my Western sea, the circle almost circled:
For starting westward from Hindustan, from the vales of Kashmere,
144From Asia, from the north, from the God, the sage, and the hero,
From the south, from the flowery peninsulas and the spice islands,
Long having wander’d since, round the earth having wander’d,
Now I face home again, very pleas’d and joyous.
(But where is what I started for so long ago?
And why is it yet unfound?)
BY WALT WHITMAN.
I know I am deathless.
I know that this orbit of mine cannot be swept by a carpenter’s compass;
And whether I come to my own to-day, or in ten thousand or ten million years,
I can cheerfully take it now or with equal cheerfulness I can wait.
· · · · ·
As to you, Life, I reckon you are the leavings of many deaths.
No doubt I have died myself ten thousand times before.
· · · · ·
Believing I shall come again upon the earth after five thousand years.
· · · · ·
Births have brought us richness and variety, and other births have brought us richness and variety.
145
BY THOMAS W. PARSONS.
“We are such stuff as dreams are made of.”
We have forgot what we have been,
And what we are we little know;
We fancy new events begin,
But all has happened long ago.
Through many a verse life’s poem flows,
But still, though seldom marked by men,
At times returns the constant close,
Still the old chorus comes again.
The childish grief—the boyish fear—
The hope in manhood’s breast that burns;
The doubt—the transport, and the tear—
Each mood, each impulse, oft returns.
Before mine infant eyes had hailed
The new-born glory of the day,
When the first wondrous morn unveiled
The breathing world that round me lay;
The same strange darkness o’er my brain
Folded its close mysterious wings,
The ignorance of joy or pain,
That each recurring midnight brings.
Full oft my feelings make me start,
Like footprints on a desert shore,
As if the chambers of my heart
Had heard their shadowy step before.
So looking into thy fond eyes,
Strange memories come to me, as though
Somewhere—perchance in Paradise—
I had adored thee long ago.
146
BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.
Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting;
The soul that rises with us, our life’s star,
Hath had elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar.
Not in entire forgetfulness
And not in utter nakedness
But trailing clouds of glory do we come
From God who is our home.
Heaven lies about us in our infancy;
Shades of the prison house begin to close
Upon the growing boy;
But he beholds the light, and whence it flows
He sees it in his joy.
The youth who daily farther from the East
Must travel, still is nature’s priest,
And by the vision splendid
Is on his way attended.
At length the man perceives it die away
And fade into the light of common day.
Edmund W. Gosse treats the idea of Wordsworth’s
“Intimations” in a way directly opposite to the older
poet, acknowledging the previous life, but rejoicing in
the speedy forgetting of it, in these verses:—
147
BY EDMUND W. GOSSE.
Thou hast the colors of the Spring,
The gold of king cups triumphing,
The blue of wood-bells wild;
But winter thoughts thy spirit fill,
And thou art wandering from us still,
Too young to be our child.
Yet have thy fleeting smiles confessed,
Thou dear and much desired guest,
That home is near at hand.
Long lost in high mysterious lands,
Close by our door thy spirit stands,
In journey wellnigh past.
Oh, sweet bewildered soul, I watch
The fountains of thine eyes, to catch
New fancies bubbling there;
To feel one common light, and lose
The flood of strange ethereal hues
Too dire for us to share!
Fade, cold immortal lights, and make
This creature human for my sake,
Since I am nought but clay;
An angel is too fine a thing
To sit behind my chair and sing
And cheer my passing day.
I smile, who could not smile, unless
The air of rapt unconsciousness
Passed with the fading hours;
I joy in every childish sign
That proves the stranger less divine
And much more meekly ours.
148
BY DEAN ALFORD.
Methinks I can remember when a shade
All soft and flowery was my couch, and I
A little naked child, with fair white flesh
And wings all gold bedropt, and o’er my head
Bright fruits were hanging and tall balmy shrines
Shed odorous gums around me, and I lay
Sleeping and waking in that wondrous air
Which seemed infused with glory, and each breeze
Bore as it wandered by, sweet melodies;
But whence, I knew not. One delight was there,
Whether of feeling or of sight or touch
I know not now—which is not in this earth,
Something all-glorious and all-beautiful,
Of which our language speaketh not, and which
Flies from the eager grasping of my thought
As doth the shade of a forgotten dream.
All knowledge had I, but I cared not then
To search into my soul and draw it thence.
The blessed creatures that around me played
I knew them all, and where their resting was,
And all their hidden symmetry I knew,
And how the form is linked into the soul,—
I knew it all, but thought not on it then,
I was so happy.
And once upon a time
I saw an army of bright beaming shapes
Fair-faced and rosy-cinctured and gold-winged
Approach upon the air. They came to me
And from a crystal chalice silver brimmed
Put sparkling potion to my lips and stood
149All around me, in the many blooming shades,
Shedding into the centre where I lay
A mingling of soft light; and then they sang
Songs of the land they dwelt in; and the last
Lingereth even till now upon mine ear:
Holy and blest
Be the calm of thy rest,
For thy chamber of sleep
Shall be dark and deep;
They shall dig thee a tomb
In the dark deep womb,
In the warm dark womb.
Spread ye, spread the dewy mist around him,
Spread ye, spread till the thick dark night surround him,
Till the dark long night has bound him
Which bindeth all before their birth
Down upon the nether earth.
The first cloud is beaming and bright,
The next cloud is mellowed in light,
The third cloud is dim to sight,
And it stretches away into gloomy night.
Twine ye, twine the mystic threads around him,
Twine ye, twine, till the fast firm fate surround him,
Till the firm cold fate hath bound him
Which bindeth all before their birth
Down upon the nether earth.
The first thread is beaming and bright,
The next thread is mellowed in light,
The third thread is dim to sight,
And it stretches away into gloomy night.
Sing ye, sing the fairy songs around him,
Sing ye, sing, till the dull warm sleep surround him,
Till the warm damp sleep hath bound him
Which bindeth all before their birth
Down upon the nether earth.
150The first dream is beaming and bright,
The next dream is mellowed in light,
The third dream is dim to sight,
And it stretches away into gloomy night.
Then dimness passed upon me, and that song
Was sounding o’er me when I woke
To be a pilgrim on the nether earth.
BY R. M. MILNES (LORD HOUGHTON).
As in that world of Dream whose mystic shades
Are cast by still more mystic substances,
We ofttimes have an unreflecting sense,
A silent consciousness of some things past,
So clear that we can wholly comprehend
Others of which they are a part, and even
Continue them in action, though no stress
Of after memory can recognize
That we have had experience of those things
Or sleeping or awake:
Thus in the dream,
Our universal Dream, of Mortal Life,
The incidents of an anterior dream,
Or it may be, Existence, noiselessly intrude
Into the daily flow of earthly things,
Instincts of good—immediate sympathies,
Places come at by chance, that claim at once
An old acquaintance—single random looks
That bare a stranger’s bosom to our eyes;
We know these things are so, we ask not why,
But act and follow as the Dream goes on.
151
BY ALFRED TENNYSON.
Out of the deep, my child, out of the deep,
Where all that was to be, in all that was,
Whirled for a million æons thro’ the vast
Waste dawn of multitudinous eddying light—
Out of the deep, my child, out of the deep,
Thro’ all this changing world of changeless law,
And every phase of ever heightening life,
And nine long months of ante-natal gloom,
Thou comest.
Tennyson also writes in “The Two Voices”:—
For how should I for certain hold
Because my memory is so cold,
That I first was in human mould?
It may be that no life is found
Which only to one engine bound
Falls off, but cycles always round.
But, if I lapsed from nobler place,
Some legend of a fallen race
Alone might hint of my disgrace.
Or, if through lower lives I came came—
Tho’ all experience past became
Consolidate in mind and frame—
I might forget my weaker lot;
For is not our first year forgot?
The haunts of memory echo not.
152Some draughts of Lethe doth await,
As old mythologies relate,
The slipping through from state to state.
Moreover, something is or seems,
That touches me with mystic gleams,
Like glimpses of forgotten dreams—
Of something felt, like something here;
Of something done, I know not where;
Such as no language may declare.
More interesting still, from Tennyson, is an early
sonnet which has been omitted from the later editions
of his collected poetry:—
As when with downcast eyes we muse and brood
And ebb into a former life, or seem
To lapse far back in a confused dream
To states of mystical similitude,
If one but speaks or hems or stirs a chair
Ever the wonder waxeth more and more,
So that we say, all this hath been before,
All this hath been, I know not when or where;
So, friend, when first I looked upon your face
Our thoughts gave answer each to each, so true,
Opposed mirrors each reflecting each—
Although I knew not in what time or place,
Methought that I had often met with you,
And each had lived in other’s mind and speech.
153
BY D. G. ROSSETTI.
‘I have been here before,
But when or how I cannot tell;
I know the grass beyond the door,
The sweet keen smell,
The sighing sound, the lights around the shore.
You have been mine before,—
How long ago I may not know:
But just when at that swallow’s soar
Your neck turned so,
Some veil did fall,—I knew it all of yore.
Then, now, perchance again!
O round mine eyes your tresses shake!
Shall we not lie as we have lain
Thus for Love’s sake,
And sleep, and wake, yet never break the chain?’
BY JOSEPH ADDISON.
Eternity—thou pleasing, dreadful thought,
Through what variety of untried being,
Through what new scenes and dangers must we pass?
The wide, th’ unbounded prospect lies before me,
But shadows, clouds, and darkness rest upon it.
BY PHILIP JAMES BAILEY.
Who dreams not life more yearful than the hours
Since first into this world he wept his way
Erreth much, may be. Called of God, man’s soul
154In patriarchal periods, comet-like,
Ranges, perchance, all spheres successive, and in each
With nobler powers endowed and senses new
Set season bideth.
BY WILLIAM SHARP.
None sees the slow and upward sweep
By which the soul from life-depths deep
Ascends,—unless, mayhap, when free,
With each new death we backward see
The long perspective of our race
Our multitudinous past lives trace.
The following occurs in Tupper’s “Proverbial
Philosophy”:—
Be ye my judges, imaginative minds, full-fledged to soar into the sun,
Whose grosser natural thoughts the chemistry of wisdom hath sublimed,
Have ye not confessed to a feeling, a consciousness strange and vague,
That ye have gone this way before, and walk again your daily life,
Tracking an old routine, and on some foreign strand,
Where bodily ye have never stood, finding your own footsteps?
Hath not at times some recent friend looked out an old familiar,
Some newest circumstance or place teemed as with ancient memories?
A startling sudden flash lighteth up all for an instant,
And then it is quenched, as in darkness, and leaveth the cold spirit trembling.
155Throughout Browning the truth of reincarnation
finds frequent utterance, though not always so distinctly
as in these three extracts.
At times I almost dream
I too have spent a life the sages’ way,
And tread once more familiar paths. Perchance
I perished in an arrogant self-reliance
An age ago; and in that act, a prayer
For one more chance went up so earnest, so
Instinct with better light let in by Death,
That life was blotted out—not so completely
But scattered wrecks enough of it remain,
Dim memories; as now, when seems once more
The goal in sight again.
I shall never, in the years remaining,
Paint you pictures, no, nor carve you statues.
This of verse alone one life allows me;
Other heights in other lives, God willing.
There are flashes struck from midnights, there are fireflames noondays kindle,
While just this or that poor impulse which for once had play unstifled,
Seems the sole work of a lifetime that away the rest have trifled.
156Doubt you if, in some such moment, as she fixed me, she felt clearly,
Ages past the soul existed, here an age ’tis resting merely,
And hence fleets again for ages; while the true end, sole and single,
It stops here for is, this lone way, with some other soul to mingle.
In Dr. Leyden’s beautiful “Ode to Scottish Music”
is this stanza:—
Ah, sure, as Hindoo legends tell,
When music’s tones the bosom swell
The scenes of former life return,
Ere sunk beneath the morning star,
We left our parent climes afar,
Immured in mortal forms to mourn.
Coleridge confesses his fondness for the same idea
in the sonnet which he composed “On a homeward
journey upon hearing of the birth of a son”:—
Oft in my brain does that strange fancy roll
Which makes the present (while the flash does last)
Seem a mere semblance of some unknown past,
Mixed with such feelings as perplex the soul
Self-questioned in her sleep: and some have said
We lived, ere yet this robe of flesh we wore.
O my sweet baby! when I reach my door
If heavy looks should tell me thou art dead
(As sometimes through excess of hope I fear),
I think that I should struggle to believe
Thou wert a spirit, to this nether sphere
Sentenced for some more venial crime to grieve;
Didst scream, then spring to meet Heaven’s quick reprieve,
While we wept idly o’er thy little bier.
157The following poem has a peculiar history. Though
one of the most beautiful of the entire group, it is the
work of a seventeen-year-old girl. In 1846 this
child, Emma Tatham, attracted the attention of a
London clergyman as a poetic genius, and she read to
him, at his frequent visits, her phenomenal compositions,
with playful frankness devoid of all affectation
or consciousness of brilliancy. She was very delicate,
but of ruddy countenance, and her bright winning
simplicity carried no suggestion of a sickly prodigy.
But she was an intimate friend of the best poets
through their books, and her critical judgment of their
works was surprisingly mature and keen. From the
age of sixteen to that of seventeen and a half, she
rapidly wrote an abundance of exquisite poems. Her
extreme modesty would not permit their publication
until 1854—seven years later. Issued in the quietest
way by a provincial publisher, they met with a singular
unanimity of applause, though the extreme youth
of their author was unknown. Her rich religious experience
directed most of them into the vein of lofty piety,
but the general press, and even “The Athenæum,”
that severest censor of new writers, spoke commendingly
of them. The first edition sold in a few weeks.
An exceptionally brilliant career was predicted for
the young poet, but in less than a year from the announcement
of her book, she died.
“The Dream of Pythagoras,” the initial poem of the
volume, from which the collection is named, is given
here entire (from the fifth edition, 1872), as it is familiar
to few Americans.
158
BY EMMA TATHAM.
“The soul was not then imprisoned in a gross mortal body, as it is now: it was
united to a luminous, heavenly, ethereal body, which served it as a vehicle to fly
through the air, rise to the stars, and wander over all the regions of immensity.”
Pythagoras, in Travels of Cyrus.
Pythagoras, amidst Crotona’s groves,
One summer eve, sat; whilst the sacred few
And favour’d at his feet reclin’d, entranc’d,
List’ning to his great teachings. O’er their heads
A lofty oak spread out his hundred hands
Umbrageous, and a thousand slant sunbeams
Play’d o’er them; but beneath all was obscure
And solemn, save that, as the sun went down,
One pale and tremulous sunbeam, stealing in
Through the unconscious leaves her silent way,
Fell on the forehead of Pythagoras
Like spiritual radiance; all else wrapt
In gloom delicious; while the murmuring wind,
Oft moving through the forest as in dreams,
Made melancholy music. Then the sage
Thus spoke: “My children, listen; let the soul
Hear her mysterious origin, and trace
Her backward path to heaven. ’Twas but a dream;
And yet from shadows may we learn the shape
And substance of undying truth. Methought
In vision I beheld the first beginning
And after-changes of my soul. O joy!
She is of no mean origin, but sprang
From loftier source than stars or sunbeams know.
Yea, like a small and feeble rill that bursts
From everlasting mountain’s coronet,
And, winding through a thousand labyrinths
Of darkness, deserts, and drear solitudes,
Yet never dies, but, gaining depth and power,
159Leaps forth at last with uncontrollable might
Into immortal sunshine and the breast
Of boundless ocean,—so is this my soul.
I felt myself spring like a sunbeam out
From the Eternal, and my first abode
Was a pure particle of light, wherein,
Shrined like a beam in crystal, I did ride
Gloriously through the firmament on wings
Of floating flowers, ethereal gems, and wreaths
Of vernal rainbows. I did paint a rose
With blush of day-dawn, and a lily-bell
With mine own essence; every morn I dipt
My robe in the full sun, then all day long
Shook out its dew on earth, and was content
To be unmark’d, unworshipp’d, and unknown,
And only lov’d of heaven. Thus did my soul
Live spotless like her Source. ’Twas mine to illume
The palaces of nature, and explore
Her hidden cabinets, and, raptur’d, read
Her joyous secrets. O return, thou life
Of purity! I flew from mountain-top
To mountain, building rainbow-bridges up—
From hill to hill, and over boundless seas:
Ecstasy was such life, and on the verge
Of ripe perfection. But, alas! I saw
And envied the bold lightning, who could blind
And startle nations, and I long’d to be
A conqueror and destroyer, like to him.
Methought it was a glorious joy, indeed,
To shut and open heaven as he did,
And have the thunders for my retinue,
And tear the clouds, and blacken palaces,
And in a moment whiten sky, and sea,
And earth: therefore I murmur’d at my lot,
Beautiful as it was, and that one murmur
Despoil’d me of my glory. I became
A dark and tyrant cloud driven by the storm,
160Too earthly to be bright, too hard of heart
To drop in mercy on the thirsty land;
And so no creature lov’d me. I was felt
A blot where’er I came. Fair Summer scorn’d
And spurn’d me from her blueness, for, she said,
I would not wear her golden fringe, and so
She could not rank me in her sparkling train.
Soft spring refused me, for she could not paint
Her rainbows on a nature cold as mine,
Incapable of tears. Autumn despised
One who could do no good. Dark Winter frown’d,
And number’d me among his ruffian host
Of racers. Then unceasingly I fled
Despairing through the murky firmament,
Like a lone wreck athwart a midnight sea,
Chased by the howling spirits of the storm,
And without rest. At last, one day I saw
In my continual flight, a desert blank
And broad beneath me, where no water was;
And there I mark’d a weary antelope,
Dying for thirst, all stretched out on the sand,
With her poor trembling lips in agony
Press’d to a scorch’d-up spring; then, then, at last
My hard heart broke, and I could weep. At once
My terrible race was stopp’d, and I did melt
Into the desert’s heart, and with my tears
I quench’d the thirst of the poor antelope.
So having pour’d myself into the dry
And desolate waste, I sprang up a wild flower
In solitary beauty. There I grew
Alone and feverish, for the hot sun burn’d
And parch’d my tender leaves, and not a sigh
Came from the winds. I seem’d to breathe an air
Of fire, and had resign’d myself to death,
When lo! a solitary dewdrop fell
Into my burning bosom; then, for joy,
My spirit rush’d into my lovely guest,
161And I became a dewdrop. Then, once more,
My life was joyous, for the kingly sun
Carried me up into the firmament,
And hung me in a rainbow, and my soul
Was robed in seven bright colors, and became
A jewel in the sky. So did I learn
The first great lessons; mark ye them, my sons.
Obedience is nobility; and meek
Humility is glory; self alone
Is base; and pride is pain; patience is power;
Beneficence is bliss. And now first brought
To know myself and feel my littleness,
I was to learn what greatness is prepar’d
For virtuous souls, what mighty war they wage,
What vast impossibilities o’ercome,
What kingdoms, and infinitude of love,
And harmony, and never-ending joy,
And converse, and communion with the great
And glorious Mind unknown,—are given to high
And godlike souls.
“Therefore the winds arose,
And shook me from the rainbow where I hung,
Into the depths of ocean; then I dived
Down to the coral citadels, and roved
Through crystal mazes, among pearls and gems,
And lovely buried creatures, who had sunk
To find the jewel of eternal life.
Sweet babes I saw clasp’d in their mothers’ arms;
Kings of the north, each with his oozy crown;
Pale maidens, with their golden streaming hair
Floating in solemn beauty, calm and still,
In the deep, silent, tideless wave; I saw
Young beauteous boys wash’d down from reeling masts
By sudden storm; and brothers sleeping soft,
Lock’d in each other’s arms; and countless wealth,
And curling weed, and treasur’d knots of hair,
And mouldering masts, and giant hulls that sank
162With thunder sobbing; and blue palaces
Where moonbeams, hand in hand, did dance with me
To the soft music of the surging shells,
Where all else was at rest. Calm, calm, and hush’d,
And stormless, were those hidden deeps, and clear
And pure as crystal. There I wander’d long
In speechless dreamings, and wellnigh forgot
My corporal nature, for it seem’d
Melting into the silent infinite
Around me, and I peacefully began
To feel the mighty universe commune
And converse with me; and my soul became
One note in nature’s harmony. So sweet
And soothing was that dream-like ecstasy,
I could have slept into a wave, and roll’d
Away through the blue mysteries forever,
Dreaming my soul to nothing; I could well
Have drown’d my spark of immortality
In drunkenness of peace; I knew not yet
The warrior life of virtue, and the high
And honourable strife and storm that cleanse
And exercise her pinions. I was now
To learn the rapture of the struggle made
For immortality and truth; therefore
The ocean toss’d me to his mountain chains,
Bidding me front the tempest; fires of heaven
Were dancing o’er his cataracts, and scared
His sounding billows; glorious thunders roll’d
Beneath, above, around; the strong winds fought,
Lifting up pyramids of tortur’d waves,
Then dashing them to foam. I saw great ships
As feathers on the opening sepulchres
And starting monuments,
And the gaunt waves leap’d up like fountains fierce,
And snatch’d down frighten’d clouds, then shouting—fell,
And rose again. I, whirling on their tops,
Dizzy flew over masts of staggering ships,
163Then plunged into black night. My soul grew mad
Ravish’d with the intense magnificence
Of the harmonious chaos, for I heard
Music amidst the thunders, and I saw
Measure in all the madness of the waves
And whirlpools; yea, I lifted up my voice
In praise of the Eternal, for I felt
Rock’d in His hand, as in a cradling couch;
Rejoicing in His strength; yea, I found rest
In the unbounded roar, and fearless sang
Glad echo to the thunder, and flash’d back
The bright look of the lightning, and did fly
On the dark pinions of the hurricane spirit
In rapturous repose; till suddenly
My soul expanded, and I sprang aloft
Into the lightning flame, leaping for joy
From cloud to cloud. Then, first I felt my wings
Wave into immortality, and flew
Across the ocean with a shouting host
Of thunders at my heels, and lit up heaven,
And earth and sea, with one quick lamp, and crown’d
The mountains with a momentary gold,
Then cover’d them with blackness. Then I glanced
Upon the mighty city in her sleep,
Pierced all her mysteries with one swift look,
Then bade my thunders shout. The city trembled;
And charm’d with the sublime outcry, I paus’d
And listen’d. Yet had I to rise and learn
A loftier lesson. I was lifted high
Into the heavens, and there became a star,
And on my new-form’d orb two angels sat.
The one thus spoke: ‘O spirit, young and pure!
Say, wilt thou be my shrine? I am of old,
The first of all things, and of all the greatest;
I am the Sovereign Majesty, to whom
The universe is given, though for a while
I war with rebels strong; my name is Truth.
164I am the Spirit of wisdom, love, and power,
And come to claim thee; and if thou obey
My guiding, I will give thee thy desire,
Even eternal life.’ He ceas’d, and then
The second angel spoke. ‘Ask not, O soul!
My name; I bid thee free thyself, and know
Thou hast the fount of life in thy own breast,
And need’st no guiding: be a child no longer;
Throw off thy fetters, and with me enjoy
Thy native independence, and assert
Thy innate majesty; Truth binds not me,
And yet I am immortal; be thou, too,
A god unto thyself.’
“But I had learn’d
My own deep insufficiency, and gazed
Indignant on th’ unholy angel’s face,
And pierced its false refulgence, knowing well
Obedience only is true liberty
For spirits form’d to obey; so best they reign.
Straight the base rebel fled, and, ruled by Truth,
I roll’d unerring on my shining road
Around a glorious centre; free, though bound,
Because love bound me, and my law became
My life and nature; and my lustrous orb
Pure spirits visited: I wore a light
That shone across infinitude, and serv’d
To guide returning wanderers. I sang
With all my starry sisters, and we danced
Around the throne of Time, and wash’d the base
Of high Eternity like golden sands.
There first my soul drank music, and was taught
That melody is part of heaven, and lives
In every heaven-born spirit like her breath;
There did I learn, that music without end
Breathes, murmurs, swells, echoes, and floats, and peals,
And thunders through creation, and in truth
Is the celestial language, and the voice
165Of love; and now my soul began to speak
The speech of immortality. But yet
I was to learn a lesson more severe—
To shine alone in darkness, and the deeps
Of sordid earth. So did I fall from heaven
Far into night, beneath the mountains’ roots,
There, as a diamond burning amidst things
Too base for utterance. Then, alas! I felt
The stirrings of impatience, pining sore
For freedom, and communion with the fires
And majesties of heaven, with whom erewhile
I walk’d, their equal. I had not yet learn’d
That our appointed place is loftiest,
However lowly. I was made to feel
The dignity of suffering. O, my sons!
Sorrow and joy are but the spirit’s life;
Without these she is scarcely animate;
Anguish and bliss ennoble: either proves
The greatness of its subject, and expands
Her nature into power; her every pulse
Beats into new-born force, urging her on
To conquering energy.—Then was I cast
Into hot fires and flaming furnaces,
Deep in the hollow globe; there did I burn
Deathless in agony, without murmur,
Longing to die, until my patient soul
Fainted into perfection: at that hour,
Being victorious, I was snatch’d away
To yet another lesson. I became
A date-tree in the desert, to pour out
My life in dumb benevolence, and full
Obedience to each wind of heaven that blew.
The traveller came—I gave him all my shade,
Asking for no reward; the lost bird flew
For shelter to my branches, and I hid
Her nest among my leaves; the sunbeams ask’d
To rest their hot and weary feet awhile
166On me, and I spread out my every arm
T’ embrace them, fanning them with all my plumes.
Beneath my shade the dying pilgrim fell
Praying for water; I cool dewdrops caught
And shook them on his lip; I gave my fruit
To strengthen the faint stranger, and I sang
Soft echoes to the winds, living in nought
For self; but in all things for others’ good.
The storm arose, and patiently I bore
And yielded to his tyranny; I bow’d
My tenderest foliage to his angry blast,
And suffer’d him to tear it without sigh,
And scatter on the waste my all of wealth.
The billowing sands o’erwhelm’d me, yet I stood
Silent beneath them; so they roll’d away,
And rending up my roots, left me a wreck
Upon the wilderness.
“’Twas thus, my sons,
I dream’d my spirit wander’d, till at length,
As desolate I mourn’d my helpless woe,
My guardian angel took me to his heart,
And thus he said: ‘Spirit, well tried and true!
Conqueror I have made thee, and prepar’d
For human life; behold! I wave the palm
Of immortality before thine eyes:
’Tis thine; it shall be thine, if thou aright
Acquit thee of the part which yet remains,
And teach what thou hast learn’d.’
“This said, he smil’d,
And gently laid me in my mother’s arms.
Thus far the vision brought me—then it fled,
And all was silence. Ah! ’twas but a dream;
This soul in vain struggles for purity;
This self-tormenting essence may exist
For ever; but what joy can being give
Without perfection! vainly do I seek
That bliss for which I languish. Surely yet
167The Day-spring of our nature is to come;
Mournful we wait that dawning; until then
We grovel in the dust—in midnight grope,
For ever seeking, never satisfied.”
Thus spake the solemn seer, then pausing, sigh’d,
For all was darkness.
Dr. Donne, in a long poem called “The Progress
of the Soul,” traces the Pythagorean course of an
immortal being through an apple (by which Eve was
tempted), a plant, a sparrow, a fish, a mouse (which
climbed an elephant’s proboscis to the brain,
“the soul’s bedchamber,
And gnawed the life-cords there like a whole town
Till, undermined, the slain beast tumbled down;
With him the murderer dies, whom envy sent to kill.”
Then the soul enters a wolf, an ape, and at last a
woman—Themech, the sister and wife of Cain.
Mortimer Collins’s poem, “The Inn of Strange
Meetings,” is an interesting expression of reincarnation,
but it is too long to reprint here. Similar
glimpses of this thought occur in Byron, Pope,
Southey, Swinburne, and others, but it is difficult to
select from them a distinct and continuous wording
of it.
Though not necessarily meaning reincarnation, the
following poem upon the great Rugby educator, by his
son, so aptly fits the idea that it may well conclude
this section:—
168
BY MATTHEW ARNOLD.
O strong soul, by what shore
Tarriest thou now? For that force,
Surely, has not been left in vain;
Somewhere, surely, afar,
In the sounding labor-house vast
Of being, is practised that strength,
Zealous, beneficent, firm!
Yes, in some far-shining sphere,
Conscious or not of the past,
Still thou performest the word
Of the Spirit in whom thou dost live,
Prompt, unwearied, as here!
Still thou upraisest with zeal
The humble good from the ground.
Ever since the time of Virgil, whose sixth Æneid
(verses 724-) contains a sublime version of reincarnation,
and of Ovid, whose Metamorphoses beautifully
present the old Greek mythologies of metempsychosis,
this theme has attracted many European
poets beside those of England. While the Latin poets
obtained their inspiration from the East, through
Pythagoras and Plato, the Northern singers seem to
express it independently, unless it came to them with
169the Teutonic migration from the Aryan cradle of the
race, and shifted its form with all their people’s wanderings
so that it has lost all traces of connection with
its Indian source. The old Norse legends teem with
many guises of soul-journeying. In sublime and lovely
stories, ballads, and epics, these vikings and their
kindred perpetuated their belief that the human individuality
travels through a great series of embodiments,
which physically reveal the spiritual character.
The Icelandic Sagas also delight in these fables of
transmigration, and still fire the heart of Scandinavia
and Denmark. It permeated the Welsh triads, and
among the early Saxons this thought animated their
Druid ceremonies and their noblest literature. The
scriptures of those magnificent races whom Tacitus
found in the German forests, whose intrepid manliness
conquered the mistress of the world, and from whom
are descended the modern ruling race, were inspired
with this same doctrine. The treasures of these ancient
writings are buried away from our sight, but a suggestion
of their grandeur is found in the heroic qualities
of the nations who were bred upon them. A
beautiful German version of Giordano Bruno’s Pythagorean
Latin verses on the relation of the soul to the
body is contained in Professor Carrière’s Weltanschauung
(p. 452). Björnsen has written a superb
Danish poem on transmigration called “Salme,” but
it has never been translated. The following selections
are representative of the chief branches of Continental
Europeans. Boyesen, although an American
citizen, is really a modernized Norwegian. Goethe
stands for the Teutonic race, and Schiller keeps him
good company. Victor Hugo and Béranger speak
for France, and Campanella represents Italy.
170
BY HJALMAR HJORTH BOYESEN.
My spirit wrestles in anguish
With fancies that will not depart;
A ghost who borrowed my semblance
Has hid in the depth of my heart.
A dim, resistless possession
Impels me forever to do
The phantom deeds of this phantom
That lived ages ago.
The thoughts that I think seem hoary
And laden with dust and gloom;
My voice sounds strange, as if echoed
From centuries long in the tomb.
Methinks that e’en through my laughter
Oft trembles a strain of dread;
A shivering ghost of laughter
That is loth to rise from the dead.
My tear has its fount in dead ages,
And choked with their dust is my sigh;
I weep for the pale, dead sorrows
Of the wraith that once was I.
Ah, Earth! thou art old and weary,
With weight of centuries bent;
Thy pristine creative gladness
In youthful æons was spent.
Perchance, in the distant ages,
My soul, from Nirvana’s frost,
171Will gather its scattered life-germs
And quicken the life I lost.
And then, like a song forgotten
That haunts, yet eludes the ear,
Or cry that chills the darkness
With a vague, swift breath of fear,
A faint remembrance shall visit
That sun of earth and sky
In whom the flame shall rekindle
Of the soul which once was I.
From Victor Hugo’s poem, “À celle qui est
voilée.”
I am the drift of a thousand tides,
The captive of destiny;
The weight of all darkness upon me abides,
But it cannot bury me.
My spirit endures like a rocky isle
Amid the ocean of fate,
The thunderstorm is my domicile,
The hurricane is my mate.
I am the fugitive who far
From home has taken flight;
Along with the owl and evening star
I moan the song of night.
Art thou not, too, like unto me
A torch to light earth’s gloom,
A soul, therefore a mystery,
A wanderer bound to roam?
172Seek for me in the sea bird’s home,
Descend to my release!
My depths of cavernous shadows dumb
Illume, angel of peace!
As night brings forth the rosy morn,
Perhaps ’tis heaven’s law
That from thy mystic smile is born
A glory I ne’er saw.
In this dark world where now I stay
I scarce can see myself;
Thy radiant soul shines on my way
As my fair guiding elf.
With loving tones and beckoning hand
Thou say’st, “Beyond the night
I catch a glimpse upon the strand
Of thy mansion gleaming bright.”
Before I came upon this earth
I know I lived in gladness
For ages as an angel. Birth
Has caused my present sadness.
My soul was once a heavenly dove.
Do thou, in heaven’s domains,
Let fall a pinion from above
Upon this bird’s remains!
Yes, ’tis my dire misfortune now
To hang between two ties,
To hold within my furrowed brow
The earth’s clay, and the skies.
Alas the pain of being man,
Of dreaming o’er my fall,
173Of finding heaven within my span,
Yet being but a pall;
Of toiling like a galley slave,
Of carrying the load
Of human burdens, while I rave
To fly unto my God;
Of trailing garments black with rust,
I, son of heaven above!
Of being only graveyard dust,
E’en though my name is—Love.
BY BÉRANGER.
In philosophic mood, last night, as idly I was lying,
That souls may transmigrate, methought there could be no denying:
So, just to know to what I owe propensities so strong,
I drew my soul into a chat—our gossip lasted long.
“A votive offering,” she observed, “well might I claim from thee;
For thou in being hadst remained a cipher, but for me:
Yet not a virgin soul was I when first in thee enshrined.”—
Ah! I suspected, little soul, thus much that I should find!
“Yes,” she continued, “yes, of old—I recollect it now—
In humble ivy was I wreathed round many a joyous brow.
More subtle next the essence was that I essayed to warm,
A bird’s, that could salute the skies, a little bird’s my form:
Where thickets made a pleasant shade, where shepherdesses strolled,
I fluttered round, hopped on the ground, my simple lays I trolled;
174My pinions grew whilst still I flew in freedom on the wind.”—
Ah! I suspected, little soul, thus much that I should find!
“Médor, my name, I next became a dog of wondrous tact,
The guardian of a poor blind man, his sole support in fact;
The trick of holding in my mouth a wooden bowl I knew—
I led my master through the streets, and begged his living too.
Devoted to the poor, to please the wealthy was my care,
Gleaning, as sustenance for one, what others well could spare;
Thus good I did, since to good deeds so many I inclined.”—
Ah! I suspected, little soul, thus much that I should find!
“Next, to breathe life into her charms, in a young girl I dwelt;
There, in soft prison, snugly housed, what happiness I felt!
Till to my hiding-place a swarm of Cupids entrance gained,
And after pillaging it well, in garrison remained.
Like old campaigners, there the rogues all sorts of mischief did:
And night and day, whilst still I lay in little corner hid,
How oft I saw the house on fire I scarce can call to mind.”—
Ah! I suspected, little soul, thus much that I should find.
“Some light on thy propensities may now upon thee break;
But prithee hark! one more remark I still,” says she, “would make.
’Tis this—that having dared one day with Heaven to make too free,
God for my punishment resolved to shut me up in thee:
And what with sittings up at night, with work and woman’s art,
Tears and despair—for I forbear some secrets to impart—
A poet is a very hell for soul thereto consigned!”
Ah! I suspected, little soul, thus much that I should find.
175
The soul of man
Is like the water:
From heaven it cometh,
To heaven it mounteth,
And thence at once
It must back to earth,
Forever changing.
FROM SCHILLER.
What unveils to me the yearning glow
Fix’d forever to thy lips to grow?
What the longing wish thy breath to drink,—
In thy Being blest, in death to sink
When thy look steals o’er me?
As when Slaves without resistance yield
To the Victor in the battle-field,
So my Senses in the moment fly
O’er the bridge of Life tumultuously
When thou stand’st before me!
Speak! Why should they from their Master roam?
Do my Senses yonder seek their home?
Or do sever’d brethren meet again,
Casting off the Body’s heavy chain,
Where thy foot hath lighted?
Were our Beings once together twin’d?
Was it therefore that our bosoms pin’d?
176Were we in the light of suns now dead,
In the days of rapture long since fled,
Into One united?
Aye, we were so!—thou wert link’d with me
In Æone that has ceas’d to be;
On the mournful page of vanish’d time,
By my Muse were read these words sublime:
Nought thy love can sever!
And in Being closely twin’d and fair,
I too wondering saw it written there,—
We were then a Life, a Deity,—
And the world seem’d order’d then to lie
’Neath our sway forever.
And, to meet us, nectar-fountains still
Pour’d forever forth their blissful rill;
Forcibly we broke the seal of Things,
And to Truth’s bright sunny hills our wings
Joyously were soaring.
Laura, weep!—this Deity hath flown,—
Thou and I his ruins are alone;
By a thirst unquenchable we’re driven
Our lost Being to embrace;—tow’rd Heaven
Turns our gaze imploring.
Therefore, Laura, is this yearning glow
Fix’d forever to thy lips to grow,
And the longing wish thy breath to drink,
In thy Being blest, in death to sink
When thy look steals o’er me!
And as Slaves without resistance yield
To the Victor in the battle-field,
177Therefore do my ravish’d Senses fly
O’er the bridge of Life tumultuously,
When thou stand’st before me!
Therefore do they from their Master roam!
Therefore do my Senses seek their home!
Casting off the Body’s heavy chain,
Those long-sever’d brethren kiss again,
Hush’d is all their sighing!
And thou, too—when on me fell thine eye,
What disclos’d thy cheek’s deep-purple dye?
Tow’rd each other, like relations dear,
As an exile to his home draws near,
Were we not then flying?
BY T. CAMPANELLA.
I fear that by my death the human race
Would gain no vantage. Thus I do not die.
So wide is this vast cage of misery
That flight and change lead to no happier place.
Shifting our pains, we risk a sorrier case:
All worlds, like ours, are sunk in agony:
Go where we will, we feel; and this my cry
I may forget like many an old disgrace.
Who knows what doom is mine? The Omnipotent
Keeps silence; nay, I know not whether strife
Or peace was with me in some earlier life.
Philip in a worse prison we hath pent
These three days past—but not without God’s will.
Stay we as God decrees: God doth no ill.
178
The largest inspiration of all western thought is
nourished by the Academe. Not only idealism, but
the provinces of philosophy and literature hostile to
Plato are really indebted to him. The noble loftiness,
the ethereal subtlety, the poetic beauty of that teaching
has captivated most of the fine intellects of mediæval
and modern times, and it is impossible to trace
the invisible course of exalted thought which has
radiated from this greatest Greek, the king of a
nation of philosophers.
Adopting Emerson’s words, “Out of Plato come all
things that are still written and debated among men
of thought. Great havoc makes he among our originalities.
We have reached the mountain from which
all these drift boulders were detached. The Bible of
the learned for twenty-two centuries, every brisk
young man who says fine things to each reluctant generation,
is some reader of Plato translating into the
vernacular his good things.... How many great
men nature is incessantly sending up out of the night
to be his men—Platonists! the Alexandrians, a constellation
of genius; the Elizabethans, not less; Sir
Thomas More, Henry More, John Hales, John Smith,
Lord Bacon, Jeremy Taylor, Ralph Cudworth, Sydenham,
Thomas Taylor. Calvinism is in his Phædro.
Christianity is in it. Mahometanism draws all its
philosophy, in its handbook of morals, the Akhlak-y-Jalaly,
from him. Mysticism finds in Plato all its
179texts.” We know not how much of the world’s later
poetry is due to the suggestion and nurture of the
poet-philosopher. But in closing our studies of the
poetry of reincarnation it may be of interest to group
together the avowed Platonic poets.
Most illustrious of all the English disciples of this
master, in the brilliant coterie of “Cambridge Platonists,”
was Dr. Henry More, whom Dr. Johnson
esteemed “one of our greatest divines and philosophers
and no mean poet.” Hobbes said of him that
if his own philosophy was not true he knew none that
he should sooner adopt than Henry More’s of Cambridge;
and Hoadley styles him “one of the first
men of this or any other country.” Coleridge wrote
that his philosophical works “contain more enlarged
and elevated views of the Christian dispensation than
I have met with in any other single volume; for
More had both the philosophical and poetic genius
supported by immense erudition.” He was a devout
student of Plato. In the heat of rebellion he was
spared by the fanatics. They pardoned his refusal to
take their covenant and left him to continue the philosophic
occupations which had rendered him famous
as a lovable and absorbed scholar. He wove together
in many poems a quaint texture of Gothic
fancy and Greek thought. His “Psychozoia” or
“Life of the Soul,” from which the following verses
are taken, is a long Platonic poem tracing the course
of the soul through ancient existences down into the
earthly realm. Campbell said of this work that it “is
like a curious grotto, whose labyrinths we might explore
for its strange and mystic associations.” Dr.
More was an intimate friend of Addison and long a
correspondent of Descartes.
180From Henry More’s “Philosophical Poems”
(“Psychozoia”).
I would sing the preëxistency
Of human souls and live once o’er again
By recollection and quick memory
All that is passed since first we all began.
But all too shallow be my wits to scan
So deep a point and mind too dull to climb
So dark a matter. But thou more than man
Aread, thou sacred soul of Plotin dear,
Tell me what mortals are. Tell what of old they were.
A spark or ray of divinity
Clouded with earthly fogs, and clad in clay,
A precious drop sunk from eternity
Spilt on the ground, or rather slunk away.
For then we fell when we ‘gan first t’ essay
By stealth of our own selves something to been
Uncentering ourselves from our one great stay,
Which rupture we new liberty did ween,
And from that prank right jolly wits ourselves did deem.
Show fitly how the preëxisting soul
Enacts and enters bodies here below
And then entire unhurt can leave this moul,
In which by sense and motion they may know
Better than we what things transacted be
Upon the earth, and when they best may show
Themselves to friend or foe, their phantasmy
Moulding their airy arc to gross consistency.
Milton imbibed from his college friend Henry More
an early fondness for the study of Plato, whose philosophy
nourished most of the fine spirits of that day,
and he expresses the Greek sage’s opinion of the soul
in his “Comus”:—
181The soul grows clotted by oblivion,
Imbodies and embrutes till she quite lose
The divine property of her first being;
Such as those thick and gloomy shadows damp
Oft seen in charnel vaults and sepulchres
Lingering and setting by a new made grave
As loth to leave the body that it loved.
Milton’s Platonic proclivities are also shown in his
poem “On the Death of a Fair Infant”:—
Wert thou that just maid, who once before
Forsook the hated earth, O tell me sooth,
And cam’st again to visit us once more?
Or wert thou that sweet smiling youth?
Or any other of that heavenly brood
Let down in cloudy throne to do the world some good?
Or wert thou of the golden-winged host,
Who, having clad thyself in human weed,
To earth from thy prefixed seat didst post,
And after short abode fly back with speed
As if to show what creatures heaven doth breed;
Thereby to set the hearts of men on fire,
To scorn the sordid world and unto heaven aspire.
In the old library of poetry known as “Dodsley’s
Collection,” is a Miltonic poem by an anonymous Platonist
which is very interesting, and as it is difficult of
access we quote the best part of it.
Now had th’ archangel trumpet, raised sublime
Above the walls of heaven, begun to sound;
All æther took the blast and fell beneath
Shook with celestial noise; th’ almighty host,
182Hot with pursuit, and reeking with the blood
Of guilty cherubs smeared in sulphurous dust,
Pause at the known command of sounding gold.
At first they close the wide Tartarean gates,
Th’ impenetrable folds on brazen hinge
Roll creaking horrible; the din beneath
O’ercomes the war of flames, and deafens hell.
Then through the solid gloom with nimble wing
They cut their shining traces up to light;
Returned upon the edge of heavenly day,
Where thinnest beams play round the vast obscure
And with eternal gleam drives back the night.
They find the troops less stubborn, less involved
In crime and ruin, barr’d the realms of peace,
Yet uncondemned to baleful beats of woe,
Doubtful and suppliant; all the plumes of light
Moult from their shuddering wings, and sickly fear
Shades every face with horror; conscious guilt
Rolls in the livid eyeball, and each breast
Shakes with the dread of future doom unknown.
’Tis here the wide circumference of heaven
Opens in two vast gates, that inward turn
Voluminous, on jasper columns hung
By geometry divine: they ever glow
With living sculptures; they arise by turns
To imboss the shining leaves, by turns they set
To give succeeding argument their place;
In holy hieroglyphics on they move,
The gaze of journeying angels, as they pass
Oft looking back, and held in deep surprise.
Here stood the troops distinct; the cherub guard
Unbarred the splendid gates, and in they roll
Harmonious; for a vocal spirit sits
Within each hinge, and as they onward drive,
In just divisions breaks the numerous jars
With symphony melodious, such as spheres
Involved in tenfold wreaths are said to sound.
183Out flows a blaze of glory: for on high
Towering advanced the moving throne of God.
· · · · ·
Above the throne, th’ ideas heavenly bright
Of past, of present, and of coming time,
Fixed their immoved abode, and there present
An endless landscape of created things
To sight celestial, where angelic eyes
Are lost in prospect; for the shiny range
Boundless and various in its bosom bears
Millions of full proportioned worlds, beheld
With steadfast eyes, till more arise to view,
And further inward scenes start up unknown.
· · · · ·
A vocal thunder rolled the voice of God.
“Servants of God! and virtues great in arms,
We approve your faithful works, and you return
Blessed from the dire pursuits of rebel foes;
Resolved, obdurant, they have tried the force
Of this right hand, and known almighty power;
Transfixed with lightning, down they sunk and fell
Into the fiery gulf, and deep they plunge
Below the burning waves, to hide their heads.
· · · · ·
“For you, ye guilty throng that lately joined
In this sedition, since seduced from good,
And caught in trains of guile, by sprites malign
Superior in their order; you accept,
Trembling, my heavenly clemency and grace.
When the long era once has filled its orb,
You shall emerge to light and humbly here
Again shall bow before his favoring throne,
If your own virtue second my decree:
But all must have their races first below.
See, where below in chaos wondrous deep
A speck of light dawns forth, and thence throughout
The shades, in many a wreath, my forming power
184There swiftly turns the burning eddy round,
Absorbing all crude matter near its brink;
Which next, with subtle motions, takes the form
I please to stamp, the seed of embryo worlds
All now in embryo, but ere long shall rise
Variously scattered in this vast expanse,
Involved in winding orbs, until the brims
Of outward circles brush the heavenly gates.
The middle point a globe of curling fire
Shall hold, which round it sheds its genial heat;
Where’er I kindle life the motion grows,
In all the endless orbs, from this machine;
And infinite vicissitudes that roll
About the restless centre; for I rear
In those meanders turned, a dusty ball,
Deformed all o’er with woods, whose shaggy tops
Inclose eternal mists, and deadly damps
Hover within their boughs, to cloak the light;
Impervious scenes of horror, till reformed
To fields and grassy dells and flowery meads
By your continual pains.... Here Silence sits
In folds of wreathy mantling sunk obscure,
And in dark fumes bending his drowsy head;
An urn he holds, from whence a lake proceeds
Wide, flowing gently, smooth and Lethe named;
Hither compelled, each soul must drink long draughts
Of those forgetful streams, till forms within
And all the great ideas fade and die:
For if vast thought should play about a mind
Inclosed in flesh, and dragging cumbrous life,
Fluttering and beating in the mournful cage,
It soon would break its gates and wing away:
’Tis therefore my decree, the soul return
Naked from off this beach, and perfect blank
To visit the new world; and wait to feel
Itself in crude consistence closely shut,
The dreadful monument of just revenge;
185Immured by heaven’s own hand, and placed erect
On fleeting matter all imprisoned round
With walls of clay; the ethereal mould shall bear
The chain of members, deafened with an ear,
Blinded by eyes, and trammeled by hands.
Here anger, vast ambition and disdain,
And all the haughty movements rise and fall,
As storms of neighboring atoms tear the soul,
And hope and love and all the calmer turns
Of easy hours, in their gay gilded shapes,
With sudden run, skim o’er deluded minds,
As matter leads the dance; but one desire
Unsatisfied, shall mar ten thousand joys.
“The rank of beings, that shall first advance,
Drink deep of human life, and long shall stay
On this great scene of cares. From all the rest,
That longer for the destined body wait,
Less penance I expect, and short abode
In those pale dreamy kingdoms will content;
Each has his lamentable lot, and all
On different rocks abide the pains of life.
“The pensive spirit takes the lonely grove;
Nightly he visits all the sylvan scenes,
Where far remote, a melancholy moon
Raising her head, serene and shorn of beams,
Throws here and there her glimmerings through the trees.
The sage shall haunt this solitary ground
And view the dismal landscape limned within
In horrid shades, mixed with imperfect light.
Here Judgment, blinded by delusive sense,
Contracted through the cranny of an eye,
Shoots up faint languid beams to that dark seat,
Wherein the soul, bereaved of native fire,
Sets intricate, in misty clouds obscured.
· · · · ·
“Hence far removed, a different being race
186In cities full and frequent take their seat,
Where honor’s crushed, and gratitude oppressed
With swelling hopes of gain, that raise within
A tempest, and driven onward by success,
Can find no bounds. For creatures of a day
Stretch their wide cares to ages; full increase
Starves their penurious soul, while empty sound
Fills the ambitious; that shall ever shrink,
Pining with endless cares, while this shall swell
To tympany enormous. Bright in arms
Here shines the hero, out he fiercely leads
A martial throng, his instruments of rage,
To fill the world with death, and thin mankind.
· · · · ·
“There savage nature in one common lies
And feels its share of hunger, care, and pain,
Cheated by flying prey; and now they tear
Their panting flesh; and deeply, darkly quaff
Of human woe, even when they rudely sip
The flowing stream, or draw the savory pulp
Of nature’s freshest viands; fragrant fruits
Enjoyed with trembling, and in danger sought.
“But where the appointed limits of a law
Fences the general safety of the world,
No greater quiet reigns: the blended loads
Of punishment and crime deform the world,
And give no rest to man; with pangs and throes
He enters on the stage; prophetic tears
And infant cries prelude his future woes;
And all is one continual scene of gulf
Till the sad sable curtain falls in death.
· · · · ·
“Then the gay glories of the living world
Shall cast their empty varnish and retire
Out of his feeble views; the shapeless root
Of wild imagination dance and play
Before his eyes obscure; till all in death
187Shall vanish, and the prisoner enlarged,
Regains the flaming borders of the sky.”
He ended. Peals of thunder rend the heavens,
And chaos, from the bottom turned, resounds.
The mighty clangor; all the heavenly host
Approve the high decree, and loud they sing
Eternal justice; while the guilty troops,
Sad with their doom, but sad without despair,
Fall fluttering down to Lethe’s lake, and there
For penance, and the destined body wait.
Shelley’s Platonic leanings are well known.[29] The
favorite Greek conceit of preëxistence in many earlier
lives may frequently be found in his poems. The title
over one of his songs of unrest, “The World’s Wanderer,”
evidently alludes to himself, as do the lines
in it
“Like the world’s rejected guest.”
The song of the spirits in “Prometheus Unbound”
pictures vividly the human soul’s descent into the
gloom of the material world:—
To the deep, to the deep,
Down, down!
Through the shade of sleep,
Through the cloudy strife
Of Death and of Life,
Through the veil and the bar
Of things which seem and are,
Even to the steps of the remotest throne,
Down, down!
While the sound whirls around,
Down, down!
As the fawn draws the hound,
188As the lightning the vapor,
As a weak moth, the taper;
Death, despair; love, sorrow;
Time both; to-day, to-morrow;
As steel obeys the spirit of the stone,
Down, down!
In the depth of the deep,
Down, down!
Like the veiled lightning asleep,
Like the spark nursed in embers,
The last look Love remembers,
Like a diamond which shines
On the dark wealth of mines,
A spell is treasured but for thee alone,
Down, down!
The last stanza of “The Cloud” is Shelley’s Platonic
symbol of human life:—
I am the daughter of earth and water
And the nursling of the sky,
I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores,
I change, but I cannot die.
For after the rain when with never a stain
The pavilion of heaven is bare,
And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams
Build up the blue dome of air,
I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,
And out of the caverns of rain,
Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb,
I arise and unbuild it again.
Another poem, entitled “A Fragment,” certainly
refers to preëxistence:—
Ye gentle visitants of calm thought,
Moods like the memories of happier earth
Which come arrayed in thoughts of little worth
Like stars in clouds by weak winds enwrought.
189
BY HENRY VAUGHAN.
Happy those early days when I
Shined in my angel-infancy,
Before I understood this place
Appointed for my second race,
Or taught my soul to fancy aught
But a white celestial thought;
When yet I had not walked above
A mile or two from my first love,
And, looking back, at that short space,
Could see a glimpse of his bright face;
When on some gilded cloud or flower
My gazing soul would dwell an hour,
And in those weaker glories spy
Some shadows of eternity;
Before I taught my tongue to wound
My conscience with a sinful sound;
Or had the black art to dispense
A several sin to every sense,
But felt through all this flashy dress
Bright shoots of everlastingness.
Oh, how I long to travel back
And tread again that ancient track!
That I might once more reach that plain
Where first I left my glorious train;
From whence the enlightened spirit sees
That shady city of palm-trees.
But ah! my soul with too much stay
Is drunk and staggers in the way.
Some men a forward motion love,
But I by backward steps would move,
And when this dust falls to the urn,
In that state I came, return.
190In Emerson, the Plato of the nineteenth century,
the whole feeling of the Greek seems reflected in its
most glorious development. Many of his poems clearly
suggest the influence of his Greek teacher, as his
“Threnody” upon the death of his young son, and
“The Sphinx” in which these two stanzas appear:—
To vision profounder
Man’s spirit must dive;
His aye-rolling orb
At no goal will arrive;
The heavens that now draw him
With sweetness untold,
Once found for new heavens
He spurneth the old.
Eterne alteration
Now follows, now flies,
And under pain, pleasure—
Under pleasure, pain lies.
Love works at the centre,
Heart-heaving alway;
Forth speed the strong pulses
To the borders of day.
Mrs. Elizabeth Rowe, the friend of Bishop Ken
and of Dr. Isaac Watts, has left this allusion to preëxistence
in
Ye starry mansions, hail! my native skies!
Here in my happy, preëxistent state
(A spotless mind) I led the life of Gods,
But passing, I salute you, and advance
To yonder brighter realms, allowed access.
Hail, splendid city of the almighty king,
Celestial salem, situate above, etc.
191Some of the common church hymns glow with the
enthusiasm of Platonic preëxistence, and are fondly
sung by Christians without any thought that, while
their idea is of Biblical origin, it has been nourished
and perpetuated by the Greek sage, and directly implies
reincarnation. For instance:—
“I’m but a stranger, here, heaven is my home.
Heaven is my fatherland, heaven is my home.”
“My Ain Countrie.”
“This world where grief and sin abideth,
Is not the Christian’s native clime.”
“The home-land, blessed home-land.”
“Jerusalem, my happy home.”
VI. REINCARNATION AMONG THE ANCIENTS.
193
194The ancient theologists and priests testify that the soul is conjoined
to the body through a certain punishment, and that it is buried in this
body as in a sepulchre.—Philolaus, (a Pythagorean.)
Search thou the path of the soul, whence she came, or what way,
after serving the body, by joining work with sacred speed, thou shalt
raise her again to the same state whence she fell.—Zoroaster.
Death has no power th’ immortal soul to slay,
That, when its present body turns to clay,
Seeks a fresh home, and with unlessened might
Inspires another frame with life and light.
So I myself (well I the past recall),
When the fierce Greeks begirt Troy’s holy wall,
Was brave Euphorbus: and in conflict drear
Poured forth my blood beneath Atrides’ spear.
The shield this arm did bear I lately saw
In Juno’s shrine, a trophy of that war.
Pythagoras, in Dryden’s Ovid.
He [Plato] spoke of Him
The lone, eternal One, who dwells above,
And of the soul’s untraceable descent
From that high fount of spirit, through all the grades
Of intellectual being, till it mix
With atoms vague, corruptible and dark.
Nor yet ev’n thus, though sunk in earthly dross,
Corrupted all, nor its ethereal touch
Quite lost, but tasting of the fountain still
As some bright river, which has rolled along
Through meads of flowery light and mines of gold
When poured at length into the dusky deep
Disdains to take at once its briny taint,
But keeps unchanged awhile the lustrous tinge
Or balmy freshness of the scenes it left.
Moore.
195
VI.
REINCARNATION AMONG THE ANCIENTS.
The origin of the philosophy of reincarnation is
prehistoric. It antedates the remotest antiquity all
over the world, and appears to be cognate with mankind,
springing up spontaneously as a necessary corollary
of the immortality of the soul; for its undiminished
sway has been wellnigh universal outside of
Christendom. In the earliest dawn of Mother India
it was firmly established. The infancy of Egypt
found it dominant on the Nile. It was at home in
Greece long before Pythagoras. The most ancient
beginnings of Mexico and Peru knew it as the faith
of their fathers.
I. In sketching the course of this thought among
the men of old, the first attention belongs to India.
Brahmanism, the most primitive form of this faith,
has gone through vast changes during the four thousand
years of history. The initial form of it, dating
back into the remotest mists of antiquity and descending
to the first chapters of authentic chronology, was
an ideally simple nature-worship. The Rig Veda and
the oldest sacred hymns display the beauty of this adoration
for every phase of nature, centering with especial
fondness upon light as the supreme power, and upon
the cow as the favorite animal. Professor Wilson’s
196and Max Müller’s translations have opened to the
English race the charming thought of this primordial
people, whose great child-souls found objects of reverence
in all things. There were no distinct gods, but
everything was divine, and through all they saw the
flow of ever-changing life. Gradually an ecclesiastical
system climbed up around this religion, clothing,
stifling, and at last burying the vital organism, until
Sakya Muni’s reaction started Buddhism into vigorous
growth as the beautiful protest against the disfigured
and decayed form. About Buddhism, too, there has
arisen a heavy weight of lifeless ritual, but every breath
of life with which the slumbering mother and daughter
continue their existence is perfumed with the roseattar
of reincarnation. How they have since continued
to disseminate the idea of reincarnation is suggested
in chapter IX, for the East of to-day is essentially
a sculptured picture of what has been monotonously
enduring for twenty centuries.
Of the ancient Indians we learn through Pliny,
Strabo, Megasthenes, Plutarch, and Herodotus, who
describe the Gymnosophists and Brachmans as ascetic
philosophers who made a study of spiritual things, living
singly or in celibate communities much like the
later Pythagoreans. Porphyry says of them: “They
live without either clothes, riches or wives. They are
held in so great veneration by the rest of their countrymen
that the king himself often visits them to ask
their advice. Such are their views of death that with
reluctance they endure life as a piece of necessary
bondage to nature, and haste to set the soul at liberty
from the body. Nay, often, when in good health, and
no evil to disturb them, they depart life, advertising
it beforehand. No man hinders them, but all reckon
197them happy, and send commissions along with them to
their dead friends. So strong and firm is their belief
of a future life for the soul, where they shall enjoy one
another, after receiving all their commands, they deliver
themselves to the fire, that they may separate the
soul as pure as possible from the body, and expire
singing hymns. Their old friends attend them to
death with more ease than other men their fellow-citizens
to a long journey. They deplore their own state
for surviving them and deem them happy in their immortality.”
When Alexander the Great first penetrated
their country he could not persuade them to
appear before him, and had to gratify his curiosity
about their life and philosophy by proxy, though he
afterward witnessed them surrender themselves to the
flames.
II. Herodotus asserts that the doctrine of metempsychosis
originated in Egypt. “The Egyptians are
the first who propounded the theory that the human
soul is imperishable, and that where the body of any
one dies it enters into some other creature that may
be ready to receive it, and that when it has gone the
round of all created forms on land, in water and in
air, then it once more enters a human body born for
it; and that this cycle of existence for the soul takes
place in three thousand years.”[30] He continues, “Some
of the Greeks adopted this opinion, some earlier, others
later, as if it were their own.”
The Egyptians held that the human race began after
the pure gods and spirits had left earth, when the demons
who were sinfully inclined had revolted and introduced
guilt. The gods then created human bodies
198for these demons to inhabit, as a means of expiating
their sin, and these fallen spirits are the present men
and women, whose earthly life is a course of purification.
All the Egyptian precepts and religious codes
are to this end. The judgment after death decides
whether the soul has attained purity or not. If not,
the soul must return to earth in renewal of its expiation
either in the body of a man, or animal or plant.
As the spirit was believed to maintain its connection
with the material form as long as this remained, the
practice of embalming was designed to arrest the passage
of the soul into other forms. The custom of embalming
is also connected with their opinion that after
three thousand years away from the body the soul
would return to its former body provided it be preserved
from destruction.[31] If it is not preserved, the
soul would enter the most convenient habitation,
which might be a wretched creature. They maintained,
too, that the gods frequently inhabited the bodies of
animals, and therefore they worshiped animals as incarnations
of special divinities. The sacred bodies of
these godly visitants were also embalmed as a mark of
respect to their particular class of deities. For they
placed certain gods in certain animals, the Egyptian
Apollo choosing the hawk, Mercury the ibis, Mars the
fish, Diana the cat, Bacchus the goat, Hercules the
colt, Vulcan the ox, etc. This conceit was but a specialization
of their general tenet of pantheism, insisting
that all life is divine, that every living thing must be
venerated, and that the highest creatures should be
most devoutly worshiped.
199The Egyptian conception of reincarnation as shaped
by the priesthood is displayed in their classic, “Ritual
of the Dead,” which is one of their chief sacred books
and describes the course of the soul after death. A
copy of it was deposited in each mummy case. It
opens with a sublime dialogue between the soul and
the God of Hades, Osiris, to whose realm he asks admission.
Finally Osiris says, “Fear nothing, but cross
the threshold.” As the soul enters he is dazzled with
the glory of light. He sings a hymn to the sun and
goes on taking the food of knowledge. After frightful
dangers are passed, rest and refreshment come.
Continuing his journey he reaches at last heaven’s
gate, where he is instructed in profound mysteries.
Within the gate he is transformed into different animals
and plants. After this the soul is reunited to
the body for which careful embalming was so important.
A critical examination tests his right to cross
the subterranean river to Elysium. He is conducted
by Anubis through a labyrinth to the judgment hall
of Osiris, where forty-two judges question him upon
his whole past life. If the decisive judgment approves
him he enters heaven. If not, he is sentenced to pass
through lower forms of existence according to his sins,
or, if a reprobate, is given over to the powers of darkness
for purgation. After three thousand years of
this he is again consigned to a human probation.
III. Of the old Persian faith, it is difficult to obtain
a trustworthy statement, except what is derived
from its present form among the Parsees. The Magi,
Zoroaster’s followers, believed that the immortal soul
descended from on high for a short period of lives in
a mortal body to gain experience, and to then return
again. When the soul is above it has several abodes,
200one luminous, another dark, and some filled with a
mixture of light and darkness. Sometimes it sinks
into the body from the luminous abode and after a
virtuous life returns above; but if coming from the
dark region, it passes an evil life and enters a worse
place in proportion to her conduct until purified. The
dualism of these fire-worshipers gave reincarnation
a briefer period of operation than the other oriental
religions.
IV. Pythagoras is mentioned by a Greek tradition
as one of the Greeks who visited India before the age
of Alexander. It is almost certain that he went to
Egypt and received there the doctrine of transmigration
which he taught in the Greek cities of lower Italy
(B. C. 529). Jamblichus says: “He spent twelve years
at Babylon, freely conversing with the Magi, was instructed
in everything venerable among them, and
learned the most perfect worship of the gods.” He is
said to have represented the human soul as an emanation
of the world soul, partaking of the divine nature.
At death it leaves one body to take another and so
goes through the circle of appointed forms. Ovid’s
“Metamorphoses” contains a long description of the
Pythagorean idea, from which these verses are taken,
as translated by Dryden:—
“Souls cannot die. They leave a former home,
And in new bodies dwell, and from them roam.
Nothing can perish, all things change below,
For spirits through all forms may come and go.
Good beasts shall rise to human forms, and men,
If bad, shall backward turn to beasts again.
Thus, through a thousand shapes, the soul shall go
And thus fulfill its destiny below.”
But it is very difficult to determine exactly what
the views of Pythagoras were. Aristotle, Plato, and
201Diogenes Laertius say he taught that the soul when
released by death must pass through a grand circle of
living forms before reaching the human again. From
Pythagoras himself we have only some aphorisms of
practical wisdom and symbolic sentences; from his
disciples a few fragments—all devoid of the grotesque
hypothesis generally ascribed to him. Although his
name is synonymous with the transmigration of human
souls through animal bodies, the strong probabilities
are that if this doctrine came from him it was entirely
exoteric, concealing the inner truth of reincarnation.
Some of his later disciples, especially the author of
the work which is attributed to Timæus the Locian,
denied that he taught it in any literal sense, and said
that by it he meant merely to emphasize the fact that
men are assimilated in their vices to the beasts. (See
Chapter XII.)
V. Plato is called by Emerson the synthesis of
Europe and Asia, and a decidedly oriental element
pervades his philosophy, giving it a sunrise color. He
had traveled in Egypt and Asia Minor and among the
Pythagoreans of Italy. As he died (B. C. 348) twenty
years before Alexander’s invasion of India he missed
that opportunity of learning the Hindu ideas.
In the great “myth,” or allegory, of Phædrus, the
classic description of the relation of the soul to the
material world, what he says of the judgment upon
mankind and their subsequent return to human or
animal bodies coincides substantially with the Egyptian
and Hindu religions. But his theory of pre-existence
and of absolute knowledge seems to be original.
It grows out of his cardinal doctrine (and that
of his master Socrates) concerning the reality and
202validity of truth, in opposition to the skepticism of
contemporary sophists, who claimed that truth is mere
subjective opinion—what each man troweth.
The Phædrus myth is evidently suggested by the
splendid religious procession which closed the Athenian
festival. With gorgeous ceremony nearly the whole
city’s population participated in this crowning glory
of their most sacred holiday. The procession wound
through the finest streets of the city and then up the
steep ascent of the Acropolis, whose precipitous incline
kept the horses struggling for a foothold. That
elevated site commanded a view of the busy city,
the plains beyond, and the distant mountains and sea
under the deep blue canopy of the Greek sky, presenting
to the worshipers’ sight a panorama of the
changing aspects of human life and a type of heaven’s
repose. From this picture the poet-philosopher conjures
up a sublimer procession marshalled by the
king of gods and men, moving through the heavenly
orbits of the soul’s progress, until they ascend the
celestial dome itself, whence the soul may gaze upon
the unspeakable glories of spiritual Truth.[32]
The Socrates of the dialogue first likens the soul to
“a winged team and their charioteer. In the case of
the gods both horses and charioteer are all good and
of good breed; those of the rest are mixed. And
first of all, our charioteer drives a pair; in the next
place, the one is good and noble in itself and by
breed, while the other is the opposite in both regards.
And so the management of the chariot must needs be
difficult and harassing. Just how the living being
which is immortal is distinguished from that which is
203mortal, I must endeavor to tell you. All that is soul
has the charge of that which is soulless, and traverses
the whole heaven, appearing now in one form, now in
another. When perfect and possessed of wings, she
moves in mid air and controls the whole world
(kosmos). But if she lose her feathers, she is borne
hither and thither until she lays hold of something
that is fixed and solid, and there making her home,
and taking to herself an earthly body, which seems to
be self-moved by reason of the force she furnishes,
soul and body are fastened together and come to be
called mortal.... But let us take up the reason of
that stripping off the feathers by which the soul is
brought to its fall. It is as follows: The power of
the wing is designed to bear up that which is heavy
through mid air, where the race of the gods dwells,
and of all that is corporeal this has most in common
with the divine; for the divine is the beautiful, the
wise, the good, and everything of the sort, and by
these the wing of the soul is nourished and groweth
especially. But by what is base and evil, and whatever
else is the opposite of divine, it wastes away and
is destroyed.
“Now Zeus, the great Leader in heaven, leads the
van, driving a winged chariot, the marshal and guardian
of all. And he is followed by the host of the
gods and demons marshalled in eleven bands, for
Hestia alone remaineth in the house of the gods, and
those of the rest who belong to the number of The
Twelve [Great Gods] lead on as captains of their
companies, each in the order to which he has been
assigned. Now there are within heaven many and
blessed views and ways of passage in which the race
of the happy gods pass to and fro, each of them doing
204his own work, and whoever can and will follows, for
envy stands aloof from the choir of the gods.
“But whenever they go to banquet and to feast,
then they proceed all together up towards the lofty
vault of heaven. Now the chariots of the gods, being
well balanced and obedient to the rein, proceed easily,
but the rest with difficulty. For the horse that partakes
of evil slips downward, sinking and gravitating
towards the earth, if he has not been properly broken
in by the charioteer. Then it is that toil and extremest
conflict press hard upon the soul. But those
souls which are called immortal, when they reach
the summit, go forth and stand upon the back [the
convex] of the heaven, and as they stand the revolution
[of the sphere] carries them around with it, and
they behold the things which are outside of the
heaven.
“Now the place which is above the heaven no
earthly poet has ever praised as it deserves, nor ever
will: but it is thus. For I must dare to tell the
truth, especially when I am talking about Truth. The
colorless, formless, and intangible Being which is Being,
is visible only to the Reason (nous), which is the
governor of the soul. Round about this [pure Being]
is located the true sort of knowledge. Since then the
intelligence of God—like that of every soul in so far
as it is to receive what best befits it—is nourished on
Reason and pure Knowledge, in beholding at last the
Being it loves it, and in contemplating the Truth is
nourished and gladdened, until the revolution [of the
sphere] brings it round again to its starting-place.
And in this circuit it beholds Righteousness itself, beholds
Temperance itself, beholds Knowledge—not
that which has origin, nor that which differs in the
205different things to which we ascribe existence, but
Knowledge which has a real being in that which is
Being indeed. And other equally real existences she
beholds and is feasted upon, and then reëntering the
heaven she returns homeward. And when she has
come thither, the charioteer, staying his horses at their
stall, fodders them with ambrosia, and waters them
with nectar. And this is the life of the gods.
“But as to the other souls, that which best follows
God and is most like Him lifts up the head of the
charioteer to the place outside the heaven, and is carried
around the revolution with Him, disturbed indeed
by the horses, and beholding the things which have
true being with difficulty. Another lifts up the head
at times, at others draws it in because compelled by
the horses, and therefore beholds some and not others;
the rest one and all desire and follow that which is
above, but not being able to reach it, they are carried
around submerged beneath the heaven, they tread and
fall upon each other, each trying to get precedence of
the other. Noise, and rivalry, and sweat to the last
degree ensue, whereupon many are maimed in their
wings by the fault of their charioteers. And all of
them, after long toil, depart uninitiated into the vision
of Being, and when they have gone are fed on the
food of opinion. Whence then that great desire of
theirs to behold the plain of Truth? Is it not because
the pasturage which befits what is best in the soul
happens to grow in that meadow, and the growth of
the wing by which the soul soars is nourished with
this?
“And this is this law of Adrastea [or Nemesis, the
inevitable Order]: whatsoever soul has shared with
God, in beholding any of those things that are true
206and real, is unharmed until the next period, and if
she is always able to do this, is always unhurt. But
should it happen that she cannot follow on to know,
and by any mischance grows heavy through being
filled with forgetfulness and faultiness, and through
that heaviness loses her feathers and falls to the earth,
then the law is that this soul shall not take upon her
the nature of any beast in the first generation [or
birth], but the soul that has seen most shall come to
the birth of a man who is to be a philosopher, or an
artist, or of some musician and lover; and the second,
[to the birth] of a lawful king, or warrior and ruler;
the third, of a statesman, or of some financier, or man
of affairs; the fourth, of a toil-loving gymnast, or of
some one who is to be a physician; the fifth, the life
of a soothsayer, or some hierophantic function; to
the sixth, the life of a poet, or of some other sort of
mimic, will be suitable; to the seventh, that of an
artisan or a husbandman; to the eighth, that of a
sophist or a demagogue; to the ninth, that of a tyrant.
And whoever in any of these positions conducts himself
rightly receives a better lot; but whoever behaves
otherwise, a worse.
“No soul arrives at that place from whence it came
for ten thousand years, except it be that one who is
honestly a philosopher, or a lover who has a share of
philosophy. These in the third period of a thousand
years, if thrice successively they have chosen this
manner of life, and have thus received their wings,
depart thither in the three thousandth year. But the
rest, when they have finished the first life assigned
them, undergo a judgment. And after the judgment,
some of them proceed to the prison-house under the
earth and receive punishment; and the others, having
207been raised by the judgment to a place in the heaven,
pass their time in a manner worthy of the life they
lived in human form.
“And when, in the thousandth year, they come to
a casting of lots and a choice of their second life,
each chooses whichever she wishes. And thereupon
a human soul comes to the life of a beast; and one
that has been a man becomes from a beast a man
again.
“But that soul which has never beheld the Truth
will never come into this [human] form; the understanding
of general truth collected from many perceptions
into unity by rational thought is an essential of
humanity. And this is the recollection of those things
which our soul has once seen when accompanying God,
and disdaining those things which we now speak of
as being, and lifting up our heads to behold true Being.
Wherefore it is just that the intelligence of the
philosopher alone receives wings; for he is ever with
all his might busied with the recollections of these
things, occupation with which makes God what he is.
And only the man who makes right use of such recollections,
and thus continually attains initiation into
perfect mysteries, becomes truly perfect; and for giving
up human pursuits and becoming enwrapt in the
divine, he is esteemed by the many as beside himself,
for they fail to see that he is God-possessed.
... “As has been said, every human soul is by
nature a beholder of Being, else she would not have
entered into this form of life. But it is not easy
for every soul to awaken those recollections which she
brought from thence, or they may then have had but
scant vision of what was there, or since they have
fallen thence they may have had the mischance to be
208diverted by bad associations to that which is unjust,
and to fall into forgetfulness of the holy things which
they then beheld. A few are left, who retain enough
of the recollection; but whenever they behold any
resemblance of what is there, they are struck with
astonishment, and are no longer masters of themselves;
but they know not why they are thus affected,
because they have no adequate perception.
But there is no brilliancy in those earthly likenesses
of justice and temperance, and whatever else
is precious to the soul; for through obscure instruments,
it is given with difficulty and to but few to
draw near to those images and behold what manner
of thing it is that they represent. But then it was
permitted to behold Beauty in all its splendor, when
along with the blessed chorus, we [philosophers] following
Zeus, others some other of the gods, we shared
in the beatific vision and contemplation, and were initiated
into mysteries which it is just to call the most
perfect of all, and whose rapturous feast we kept in
innocence, and while still inexpert of those evils which
were awaiting us in a time still future. And we beheld
visions innocent and simple and peaceful and
happy, as if spectators at the mysteries, in pure array,
ourselves pure, and without a sign upon us of this
which we now carry about with us and call a body,
and are bound thereto like an oyster to his shell. Let
us indulge in these memories, whereby we are led to
speak the longer from desire of the things which we
then saw.”[33]
We penetrate into the inmost secret of Plato’s
thought in the super-celestial plain, the dwelling-place
of substantial ideas, the essential Truth, the absolute
209knowledge, in which the pure Being holds the supreme
place which we assign to God, the Hindu to Brahm,
and the Egyptian to Osiris, but which the polytheist
could not ascribe to his gods. Plato, like the initiated
priests of India and Egypt, to whom the highest
deity was nameless, knew the objects of common
worship were but exalted men, above whom was One
whose nature was undisclosed to men, and of whom it
was audacious childishness to assert human attributes.
The Highest was the centre of those Realities dimly
shadowed in earthly appearance, and Plato’s pictorial
representation of his thought is only a parable cloaking
the essential principle that during the eternal
past we have strayed from the real Truth through
repeated lives into the present.
Of Plato’s philosophy of preëxistence, Professor W.
A. Butler says in his masterly lectures on Ancient
Philosophy: “It is certain that with Plato the conviction
was associated with a vast and pervading principle,
which extended through every department of
nature and thought. This principle was the priority
of mind to body, both in order of dignity and in
order of time; a principle which with him was not
satisfied by the single admission of a divine preëxistence,
but extended through every instance in which
these natures could be compared. A very striking
example of the manner in which he thus generalized
the principle of priority of mind to body is to be
found in the well-known passage in the tenth book of
his ‘Laws,’ in which he proves the existence of divine
energy. The argument employed really applies
to every case of motion and equally proves that every
separate corporeal system is but a mechanism moved
by a spiritual essence anterior to itself. The universe
210is full of gods, and the human soul is, as it were, the
god or demon of the human body.”
VI. The Jews had the best parallel of Plato’s
Phædrus in the third chapter of Genesis, describing
the fall of Adam and Eve. The theological comments
upon that popular summary of the origin of sin have
always groped after reincarnation, by making all
Adam’s descendants responsible in him for that act.
Many Jewish scholars undertook to fuse Greek philosophy
with their national religion. The Septuagint
translation, made in the third century before Christ,
gives evidence of such a purpose in suppressing the
strong anthropomorphic terms by which the Old
Testament mentioned God. Aristobulus, a Jewish-Greek
poet of the second century, writes of Hebrew
ideas in Platonic phrases. Similar passages are found
in Aristeas and in the second book of the Maccabees.
Pythagoreanism was blended with Judaism in the
beliefs and practices of the Jewish Therapeutæ of
Egypt, and their brethren the Essenes of Palestine.
Of the Essenes, Josephus writes: “The opinion obtains
among them that bodies indeed are corrupted,
and the matter of them not permanent, but that souls
continue exempt from death forever; and that emanating
from the most subtle ether they are unfolded in
bodies as prisons to which they are drawn by some
natural spell. But when loosed from the bonds of
flesh, as if released from a long captivity, they rejoice
and are borne upward.”
The most prominent Jewish writer upon this subject
is Philo of Alexandria, who lived in the time of
Christ, and adapted a popular version of Platonic
ideas to the religion of his own people. He turned
the Hebrew stories into remarkably deft Platonic allegories.
211His theory of preëxistence and re-births is
practically that of his master Plato, as is shown in
this extract: “The company of disembodied souls is
distributed in various orders. The law of some of
them is to enter mortal bodies and after certain prescribed
periods be again set free. But those possessed
of a diviner structure are absolved from all local
bonds of earth. Some of these souls choose confinement
in mortal bodies because they are earthly and
corporeally inclined. Others depart, being released
again according to supernaturally determined times
and seasons. Therefore, all such as are wise, like
Moses, are living abroad from home. For the souls
of such formerly chose this expatriation from heaven,
and through curiosity and the desire of acquiring
knowledge they came to dwell abroad in earthly nature,
and while they dwell in the body they look
down on things visible and mortal around them, and
urge their way thitherward again whence they came
originally: and call that heavenly region in which
they live their citizenship, fatherland, but this earthly
in which they live, foreign.” In choosing between
the Mosaic and the Platonic account of the Fall, as
to which best expressed the essential truth, although
a Jew, he decided for Plato. He considers men as
fallen spirits attracted by material desires and thus
brought into the body’s prison, yet of kin to God and
the ideal world. The philosophic life is the means of
escape, with the aid of the divine Logos, or Spirit, to
the blessed fellowship from which they have fallen.
Regeneration is a purification from matter. Philo renounced
the creed of his fathers in order to reform it,
and his influence was profoundly felt for centuries.
The origin of the Jewish Cabala is involved in endless
212dispute. Jewish scholars claim that it is prehistoric.
Although a portion of it is held to have been
composed in the Middle Ages, it is certain that its
teachings had been handed down by tradition from
very early times, and that some parts come from the
Jewish philosophers of Alexandria and others from
the later Neo-Platonists and Gnostics. Preëxistence
and reincarnation appear here, not in Philo’s speculative
form of it, but in a much simpler and more matter-of-fact
character,—affirming that human spirits
are again and again born into the world, after long intervals,
and in entire forgetfulness of their previous
experiences. This is not a curse, as in Plato’s religions,
but a blessing, being the process of purification
by repeated probations. “All the souls,” says
the Zohar, or Book of Light, “are subject to the
trials of transmigration; and men do not know which
are the ways of the Most High in their regard. They
do not know how many transformations and mysterious
trials they must undergo; how many souls and
spirits come to this world without returning to the
palace of the divine king. The souls must reënter the
absolute substance whence they have emerged. But
to accomplish this end they must develop all the perfections,
the germ of which is planted in them; and
if they have not fulfilled this condition during one
life, they must commence another, a third, and so
forth, until they have acquired the condition which
fits them for reunion with God.”
VII. REINCARNATION IN THE BIBLE.
213
214Out from the heart of nature rolled
The burdens of the Bible old.
Emerson.
The more diligently the student works this mine (the Bible), the
richer and more abundant he finds the ore; new light continually
beams from this source of heavenly knowledge to direct and illustrate
the work of God and the ways of men.—Sir Walter Scott.
The divine oracles are not so silent in this matter as is imagined.
But truly I have so tender a sense of the sacred authority of that holy
volume that I dare not be so bold with it as to force it to speak what
I think it intends not. Wherefore I would not willingly urge Scripture
as a proof of anything, but what I am sure by the whole tenor
of it is therein contained. Would I take the liberty to fetch in everything
for a Scripture evidence that with a little industry a man might
make serviceable to his design, I doubt not but I should be able to fill
my margent with quotations which should be as much to purpose as
have been cited in general Catechisms and Confessions of Faith....
And yet I must needs say that there is very fair probability for Pre-existence
in the written word of God, as there is in that which is engraved
upon our rational natures.—Glanvil, in Lux Orientalis.
215
VII.
REINCARNATION IN THE BIBLE.
The vitality of the doctrine of Reincarnation does
not in the least depend upon a scriptural endorsement
of it, but the fact that it is surprisingly conspicuous
here is certainly interesting and confirmatory. Every
candid Christian student must acknowledge that the
revelation of truth is no more confined to the central
book of Christendom than sunshine is limited to the
Orient. There must be great principles of philosophy,
like that of evolution, outside of the Bible; and yet
the most skeptical thinker has to concede that this
volume is the richest treasury of wisdom,—the best
of which is still unlearned.
Although most Christians are unaware of it, reincarnation
is strongly present in the Bible, chiefly in
the form of preëxistence. It is not inculcated as a
doctrine essential to redemption. Neither is immortality.
But it is taken for granted, cropping out here
and there as a fundamental rock. Some scholars
consider it an unimportant oriental speculation which
is accidentally entangled into the texture. But the
uniform strength and beauty of its hold seem to rank
it with the other essential threads of the warp upon
which is woven the noblest fabric of religious thought.
216A sufficient evidence of the Biblical support of pre-existence,
and of the consequent wide-spread belief in
it among the Jews, is found in Solomon’s long reference
to it among his Proverbs. The wise king wrote
of himself: “The Lord possessed me in the beginning
of his way before the works of old. I was set up
from everlasting, from the beginning, or ever the
earth was. When there were no depths, I was brought
forth; when there were no foundations abounding
with water. Before the mountains were settled, before
the hills was I brought forth: while as yet he had not
made the earth, nor the fields, nor the highest part of
the dust of the world. When he prepared the heavens
I was there: when he set a compass upon the face of
the depth: when he established the clouds above:
when he strengthened the foundations of the deep:
when he gave to the sea his decree, that the waters
should not pass his commandment: when he appointed
the foundations of the earth: then I was by him, as
one brought up with him: and I was daily his delight,
rejoicing always before him; rejoicing in the
habitable part of the earth; and my delights were
with the sons of men.”[34] This passage disposes of
the theory of Delitzsch that preëxistence in the Bible
means simply an existence in the foreknowledge of
the creator. Such a mere foreknowledge would not
place him previous to the parts of creation which preceded
his earthly appearance. And the last two
clauses clearly express a prior physical life. The
prophets, too, are assured of their pre-natal antiquity.
Jeremiah hears Jehovah tell him, “Before I formed
thee in the belly I knew thee; and before thou camest
forth out of the womb I sanctified thee.”[35]
217Skipping passages of disputed interpretation in
Job and the Psalms which suggest this idea, there is
good evidence for it all through the Old Testament,
which is universally conceded by commentators, and
was always claimed by the Jewish rabbis. The translators
have distinguished the revealed form of Deity,
as successively recorded in the Hebrew Scriptures, by
the word LORD, in capitals, separating this use of
the word from other forms, as the preëxistent Christ.
“The angel of the Lord” and “the angel of Jehovah”
are other expressions for the same manifestation of
the Highest, which modern theology regards as the
second person of the Trinity. Wherever God is said
to have appeared as man, to Abraham at Mamre, to
Jacob at Peniel, to Joshua at Gilgal, to the three
captives in the Babylonian furnace as “a fourth, like
to the Son of God,” etc., Christian scholarship has
maintained this to be the same person who afterward
became the son of Mary. The Jews also consider
these various appearances to be their promised Christ.
After the captivity they held the same view concerning
all persons. The apocryphal “Wisdom of Solomon”
teaches unmistakably the preëxistence of human
souls in Platonic form, although it probably is
older than Philo, as when it says (ix. 15), “I was
an ingenuous child, and received a good soul; nay,
more, being good, I came into a body undefiled;” and
“the corruptible body presseth down the soul, and
the earthly tabernacle weigheth down the mind that
museth upon many things.” Glimpses of it appear
also in “Ecclesiasticus.”
The assertion of Josephus that this idea was common
among the Pharisees is proven in the Gospels,
where members of the Sanhedrin cast the retort at
218Jesus, “Thou wast altogether born in sins.”[36] The
prevalence of this feeling in the judgments of daily
life is seen in the question put to Jesus by his disciples,
“Which did sin, this man or his parents, that he
was born blind?”[37] referring to the two contending
popular theories, that of Moses, who taught that the
sins of the fathers would descend on the children to
the third and fourth generation, and that of reincarnation,
subsequently adopted, by which a man’s discomforts
resulted from his former misconduct. Jesus’
reply, “Neither,” is no denial of the truth of reincarnation,
for in other passages he definitely affirms it of
himself, but merely an indication that he thought this
truth had better not be given those listeners then,
just as he withheld other verities until the ripe time
for utterance. This very expression of preëxistence
used by the disciples he employs toward the man
whom he healed at Bethesda’s pool after thirty-eight
years of paralysis: “Sin no more, lest a worse thing
come unto thee.”[38] Repeatedly he confirms the popular
impression that John the Baptist was a reincarnation
of Elijah. To the throng around him he said:
“Among them that are born of women there hath
not risen a greater than John the Baptist.” “If ye
will receive it, this is Elias, which was for to come.”[39]
That John the Baptist denied his former personality
as Elijah is not strange, for no one remembers distinctly
his earlier life. Often Jesus refers to his
descent from heaven, as when he says, “I came down
from heaven, not to do mine own will, but the will of
him that sent me;”[40] and what he means by heaven
219is shown by his words to Nicodemus, “No man hath
ascended up to heaven but he that came down from
heaven, even the Son of man which is in heaven.”[41]
The inference is that the heaven in which he formerly
lived was similar to the heaven of that moment,
namely earth. Again, Jesus asked his disciples,
“Whom say men that I am?” And his disciples state
the popular thought in answering, “Some say Elijah,
others Jeremiah, and others one of the old prophets.”
“But whom say ye that I am?” Peter, the spokesman,
replies, “Thou art the Christ, the Son of God,”
and so expresses another phase of the same prevailing
idea, for the Christ was also an Old Testament personage.
And Jesus approves this response. After
Herod had decapitated John the Baptist, the appearance
of Jesus, also preaching and baptizing, roused in
him the apprehension that the prophet he killed had
come again in a second life.
Preëxistence, the premise necessarily leading to
reincarnation, is the keynote of the most spiritual of
the Gospels. The initial sentence sounds it, the body
of the book often repeats it, and the final climax is
strengthened by it. From the proem, “In the beginning
was the word, and the word was with God,”
all through the story occur frequent allusions to it:
“The word was made flesh” (John i. 14); “I am the
living bread which came down from Heaven” (vi.
51); “Ye shall see the Son of man ascend up where
he was before” (vi. 62); “Before Abraham was, I
am” (viii. 58); and finally, “Glorify thou me with
the glory which I had with thee before the world was”
(xvii. 5); “For thou lovedst me before the foundation
of the world” (xvii. 24). It is always phrased
220in such a form as might be asserted by any one, though
the speaker says it only of himself.
What the fourth Gospel dwells upon so fondly, and
what is echoed in other New Testament books,—as
in Philippians ii. 7, “He took on him the form of a
servant,” in 2 Cor. viii. 9, “Though he was rich, yet
for your sakes he became poor,” and in 1 John i. 2,
“That eternal Life which was with the Father, and
was manifested unto us,”—is a thought not limited to
the Christ. Precisely the same occurs in the mention
of the prophet-baptizer John: “There was a man sent
from God” (John i. 6). The obvious sense of this
verse to the Christians nearest its publication appears
in the comments upon it by Origen, who says that it
implies the existence of John the Baptist’s soul previous
to his terrestrial body, and hints at the universal
belief in preëxistence by adding, “And if the Catholic
opinion hold good concerning the soul, as not propagated
with the body, but existing previously and for
various reasons clothed in flesh and blood, this expression,
‘sent from God,’ will no longer seem extraordinary
as applied to John.” No words could
more exactly suit the aspirations of an oriental believer
in reincarnation than these in the Apocalypse: “Him
that overcometh will I make a pillar in the temple of
my God, and he shall go no more out” (Rev. iii.
12).
More important than any separate quotations is the
general tone of the Scriptures, which points directly
toward reincarnation. They represent the earthly
life as a pilgrimage to the heavenly country of spiritual
union with God. It is our conceit and ignorance
alone which deems a single earthly life sufficient to accomplish
that purpose. They teach the sinful nature
221of all men and their responsibility for their sin, which
certainly demands previous lives for the acquisition of
that condition, as shown well by Chevalier Ramsay.
(See pages 83–87.) St. Paul’s idea of the Fall and
of God are precisely those of Philo and Origen. The
Bible also treats Paradise as the ancient abode of
man and his future home, which requires a series of
reincarnations as the connecting chain.
VIII. REINCARNATION IN EARLY CHRISTENDOM.
223
224Our soul having lost its heavenly mansion came down into the
earthly body as a strange place.—Philo.
The soul leaving the body becomes that power which it has most
developed. Let us fly, then, from here below, and rise to the intellectual
world, that we may not fall into a purely sensible life, by allowing
ourselves to follow sensible images; or into a vegetative life,
by abandoning ourselves to the pleasures of physical love and gluttony:
let us rise, I say, to the intellectual world, to intelligence, to
God himself.—Plotinus.
The order of things is regulated by the providential government of
the whole world; some powers falling down from a loftier position,
others gradually sinking to earth: some falling voluntarily, others
being cast down against their will: some undertaking of their own
accord the service of stretching out the hand to those who fall, others
being compelled to persevere for a long time in the duty which they
have undertaken.—Jerome.
All that flesh doth cover
Souls by source sublime
Are but slaves sold over
To the master Time,
To work out their ransom
For the ancient crime.
225
VIII.
REINCARNATION IN EARLY CHRISTENDOM.
The first centuries of Christianity found reincarnation
still the prevailing creed, as in all the previous
ages, but with various shades of interpretation. What
these different phases of the same central thought
were may be gathered from Jerome’s catalogue, after
the strife between Eastern and Western ideas had been
working for some centuries and the present tendency
of Europe had asserted itself. Jerome writes: “As to
the origin of the soul, I remember the question of the
whole church: whether it be fallen from heaven, as
Pythagoras and the Platonists and Origen believe; or
be of the proper substance of God, as the Stoics, Manichæans
and Priscillian heretics of Spain believe; or
whether they are kept in a repository formerly built
by God, as some ecclesiastics foolishly believe; or
whether they are daily made by God and sent into
bodies according to that which is written in the Gospel:
‘My Father worketh hitherto and I work;’ or whether
by traduction, as Tertullian, Apollinarius, and the
greater part of the Westerns believe, i. e., that as body
from body so the soul is derived from the soul, subsisting
by the same condition with animals.”
In the form of Gnosticism it so strongly pervaded
the early church that the fourth Gospel was specially
226directed against it; but this Gospel according to John
attacked it only by advocating a broader rendering of
the same faith. We have seen that Origen refers to
preëxistence as the general opinion. Clemens Alexandrinus
(Origen’s master) taught it as a divine tradition
authorized by St. Paul himself in Romans v. 12,
14, 19. Ruffinus in his letter to Anastasius says that
“This opinion was common among the primitive fathers.”
Later, Jerome relates that the doctrine of
transmigration was taught as an esoteric one communicated
to only a select few. But Nemesius emphatically
declared that all the Greeks who believed in immortality
believed also in metempsychosis. Delitzsch
says, “It had its advocates as well in the synagogues
as in the church.”
The Gnostics and Manichæans received it, with
much else, from Zoroastrian predecessors. The Neo-Platonists
derived it chiefly from a blending of Plato
and the Orient. The Church Fathers drew it not only
from these sources, but from the Jews and the pioneers
of Christianity. Several of them condemn the Persian
and Platonic philosophies and yet hold to reincarnation
in other guises. Aside from all authority, the
doctrine seems to have been rooted among the inaugurators
of our era in its adaptation to their mental
needs, as the best explanation of the ways of God and
the nature of men.
I. The Gnostics were a school of eclectics which became
conspicuous amid the chaotic vortex of all religions
in Alexandria, during the first century. They
sought to furnish the young Christian church with a
philosophic creed, and ranked themselves as the only
initiates into a mystical system of Christian truth
which was too exalted for the masses. Their thought
227was an elaborate structure of Greek ideas built upon
Parsee Dualism, maintaining that the world was created
by some fallen spirit or principle, and that the
spirits of men were enticed from a preëxistent higher
stage by the Creator into the slavery of material bodies.
The evils and sins of life belong only to the degraded
prison-house of the spirit. The world is only an object
of contempt. Virtue consists in severest asceticism.
To combat their theory that Jesus was one
of a vast number of beings between man and God,
the fourth Gospel was written. They spread widely
through the first and second centuries in many
branches of belief. But most of their strength was
absorbed into Manichæism, which was a more logical
union of Persian with Christian and Greek ideas. In
this simple faith the world is a creation not of a fallen
spirit, but of the primary evil principle, while the
spirit of man is the creation of God, and the conflict
between flesh and spirit is that between the powers of
light and darkness. The Gnostic and Manichæan
notions of preëxistence perpetuated themselves in
many of the medieval sects, especially the Bogomiles,
Paulicians, and Priscillians. Seven adherents of the
Priscillian heresy were put to death in Spain A. D. 385,
as the first instance of the death penalty visited by a
Christian magistrate for erroneous belief. The Italian
Cathari were another sect holding this form of reincarnation,
against whom the Albigensian Crusade of
the elder De Montfort was sent, and the inquisition
devised by St. Dominic. Still they thrived in secret
and possessed a disguised hierarchy which long survived
their violent persecution. Similar sects descended
from them still exist among the Russian dissenters.
228II. Contemporary with the Alexandrian Gnostics
arose the philosophical school of the Neo-Platonists
which gathered into one the doctrines of Pythagoras,
Plato, and Buddhism,[42] and constructed a theology which
might make headway against Christianity by satisfying
in a rational way the longings which the new religion
addressed. They too disclosed the reality and nearness
of a spiritual world, a reconciliation with God,
and the pathway for returning to Him. The distinguishing
principle of Neo-Platonism is emanation,
which took the place of creation. From the eternal
Intelligence proceeds the multiplicity of souls which
comprise the intelligible world, and of which the worldsoul
is the highest and all-embracing source. They
insisted upon the distinct individuality of each soul,
and earnestly combated the charge of Pantheism.
Souls who have descended into the delusion of matter
did so from pride and a desire of false independence.
They now forget their former estate and the Father
whom they have deserted. The mission of men, in
the dying words of Plotinus, is “to bring the divine
within them into harmony with that which is divine
in the universe.” The Neo-Platonists fought Gnosticism
as fiercely as Christianity. Plotinus, by far the
best of their writers, as well as the oldest whose works
are preserved, devotes a whole book of his Enneads
to the refutation of the doctrines of Valentinus, the
brightest of the Gnostics. Contrary to the latter’s
thought, that men are fallen into the miry pit of matter
which is wholly bad, Plotinus claims that the
world of matter, although the least divine part of the
universe because remotest from the One, is still good
and the best place for man’s development. From its
former life he insists the soul has not fallen and cannot,
229but has descended into the lower stage of existence
through innate weakness of intellect in order to
be prepared for a higher exaltation.
The most important of this group of thinkers were
Ammonius Saccas, Plotinus, and Porphyry in the
third century, Jamblichus in the fourth, Hierocles and
Proclus in the fifth, and Damascius in the sixth. It
flourished with energy for over three hundred years,
and as its ideas were largely appropriated by Christian
theologians and philosophers, beginning with
Origen, it has never ceased to be felt through Christendom.
Giordano Bruno, the martyr of the Italian
reformation, popularized it, and handed it over to
later philosophers. The philosophy of Emerson is
substantially a revival of Plotinus. Coleridge is also
strongly influenced by him.
As Plotinus is in some respects the most interesting
of all the older writers, and taught reincarnation in
a form thoroughly rational and supremely helpful,
meeting Western needs in this regard more directly
than any other philosopher, we quote at some length
from his scarce essay on “The Descent of the Soul.”
“When any particular soul acts in discord from the
One, flying from the whole and apostasizing from
thence by a certain disagreement, no longer beholding
an intelligible nature, from its partial blindness, in
this case it becomes deserted and solitary, impotent
and distracted with care; for it now directs its mental
eye to a part, and by a separation from that which
is universal, attaches itself as a slave to one particular
nature. It thus degenerates from the whole and governs
particulars with anxiety and fatigue, assiduously
cultivating externals and becoming not only present
with body, but profoundly entering into its dark
230abodes. Hence, too, by such conduct the wings of the
soul are said to suffer a defluxion and she becomes
fettered with the bonds of body, after deserting the
safe and innoxious habit of governing a better nature
which flourishes with universal soul. The soul, therefore,
falling from on high, suffers captivity, is loaded
with fetters, and employs the energies of sense; because
in this case her intellectual longing is impeded
from the first. She is reported also to be buried and
to be concealed in a cave; but when she converts herself
to intelligence she then breaks her fetters and ascends
on high, receiving first of all from reminiscence
the ability of contemplating real beings; at the same
time possessing something supereminent and ever
abiding in the intelligible world. Souls therefore are
necessarily of an amphibious nature, and alternately
experience a superior and inferior condition of being;
such as are able to enjoy a more intimate converse
with Intellect abiding for a longer period in the higher
world, and such to whom the contrary happens, either
through nature or fortune, continuing longer connected
with these inferior concerns.”...
“Thus, the soul, though of divine origin, and proceeding
from the regions on high, becomes merged in
the dark receptacle of the body, and being naturally
a posterior god, it descends hither through a certain
voluntary inclination, for the sake of power and of
adorning inferior concerns. By this means it receives
a knowledge of its latent powers, and exhibits a variety
of operations peculiar to its nature, which by perpetually
abiding in an incorporeal habit, and never
proceeding into energy, would have been bestowed in
vain. Besides the soul would have been ignorant of
what she possessed, her powers always remaining dormant
231and concealed: since energy everywhere exhibits
capacity, which would otherwise be entirely occult and
obscure, and without existence, because not endued
with one substantial and true. But now indeed every
one admires the intellectual powers of the soul, through
the variety of her external effects.”...
“Through an abundance of desire the soul becomes
profoundly merged into matter, and no longer totally
abides with the universal soul. Yet our souls are
able alternately to rise from hence carrying back with
them an experience of what they have known and suffered
in their fallen state; from whence they will
learn how blessed it is to abide in the intelligible
world, and by a comparison, as it were, of contraries,
will more plainly perceive the excellence of a superior
state. For the experience of evil produces a clearer
knowledge of good. This is accomplished in our souls
according to the circulations of time, in which a conversion
takes place from subordinate to more exalted
natures.
“Indeed, if it were proper to speak clearly what
appears to me to be the truth, contrary to the opinions
of others, the whole of our soul also does not enter
into the body, but something belonging to it always
abides in the intelligible, and something different
from this in the sensible world: and that which abides
in the sensible world, if it conquers, or rather if it is
vanquished and disturbed, does not permit us to perceive
that which the supreme part of the soul contemplates;
for that which is understood then arrives at
our nature when it descends within the limits of sensible
inspection. For every soul possesses something
which inclines downwards to body, and something
which tends upwards toward intellect; and the soul,
232indeed, which is universal and of the universe, by its
part which is inclined towards body, governs the
whole without labor and fatigue, transcending that
which it governs.
“But souls which are particular and of a part are
too much occupied by sense, and by a perception of
many things happening contrary to nature are surrounded
by a multitude of foreign concerns. It is
likewise subject to a variety of affections, and is ensnared
by the allurements of pleasure. But the superior
part of the soul is never influenced by fraudulent
delights, and lives a life always uniform and divine.”
III. Many of the orthodox Church Fathers welcomed
reincarnation as a ready explanation of the fall
of man and the mystery of life, and distinctly preached
it as the only means of reconciling the existence of
suffering with a merciful God. It was an essential
part of the church philosophy for many centuries in
the rank and file of Christian thought, being stamped
with the authority of the leading thinkers of Christendom,
and then gradually was frowned upon as the
Western influences predominated, until it became
heresy and at length survived only in a few scattered
sects.
Justin Martyr expressly speaks of the soul inhabiting
more than once the human body, and denies that
on taking a second time the embodied form it can remember
previous experiences. Afterwards, he says,
souls which have become unworthy to see God in human
guise, are joined to the bodies of wild beasts.
Thus he openly defends the grosser phase of metempsychosis.
Clemens Alexandrinus is declared by a contemporary
to have written “wonderful stories about metempsychosis
and many worlds before Adam.”
233Arnobius, also, is known to have frankly avowed
this doctrine.
Noblest of all the church advocates of this opinion
was Origen. He regarded the earthly history of the
human race as one epoch in an historical series of
changeful decay and restoration, extending backward
and forward into æons; and our temporal human
body as the place of purification for our spirits exiled
from a happier existence on account of sin. He
taught that souls were all originally created by God
minds of the same kind and condition, that is of the
same essence as the infinite Mind, and that they exercised
their freedom of will, some wisely and well,
others with abuse in different degrees, producing the
divergences now apparent in mankind. From that
old experience some souls have retained more than
others of the pristine condition. The lapsed souls God
clothed with bodies and sent into this world, both to
expiate their temerity and to prepare themselves for a
better future. The variety of their offenses caused
the diversity of their terrestrial conditions. In these
bodies, each enjoys that lot which most exactly suited
his previous habits. On these the whole earthly circumstances
of man, internal and external, even his
whole life from birth, depend. In this way alone he
thought the justice of God could be defended. But
when men keep themselves free from contagion in
bodily existence and restrain the turbulent movements
of sense and imagination, being gradually purified
from the body they ascend on high and are at last
changed into minds, of which the earthly souls are
corruptions. In his own words, “Here is the cause
of the diversing among rational creatures, not in the
will or decision of the creature, but in the freedom of
234individual liberty. For God justly disposing of his
creatures according to their desert united the diversities
of minds in one congruous world, that he might,
as it were, adorn his mansion (in which ought to be
not only vases of gold and silver, but of wood also and
clay, and some to honor and some to dishonor) with
these diverse vases, minds, or souls. To these causes
the world owes its diversity, while Divine Providence
disposes each according to his tendency, mind, and disposition.”
“If from unknown reasons the soul be already not
exactly worthy of being born in an irrational body,
nor yet exactly in one purely rational, it is furnished
with a monstrous body, so that reason cannot be
fully developed by one thus born, the nature of the
body being fashioned either of a higher or lower body
according to the scope of the reason.”
“I think this is a question how it happens that the
human mind is influenced now by the good now by
the evil. The causes of this I suspect to be more ancient
than this corporeal birth.”
“If our course be not marked out according to our
works before this life, how is it true that it is not unjust
in God that the elder should serve the younger
and be hated, before he had done things deserving of
servitude and of hatred.”
“By the fall and by the cooling from a life of the
Spirit came that which is now the soul, which is also
capable of a return to her original condition, of which
I think the prophet speaks in this: ‘Return unto thy
rest, O my soul.’ So that the whole is this—how
the mind becomes a soul and how the soul rectified
becomes a mind.”
Concerning preëxistence in the Bible, Origen writes,
235in his “De Principiis”: “The Holy Scriptures have
called the creation of the world by a new and peculiar
name, terming it καταβολή, which has been very improperly
translated into Latin by ‘constitutio’; for in
Greek καταβολή; signifies rather ‘dejicere,’ i. e., to cast
downwards,—a word which has been improperly translated
into Latin by the phrase ‘constitutio mundi,’ as
where the Saviour says, ‘And there will be tribulation
in those days, such as was not since the beginning of
the world;’[43] in which passage καταβολή is rendered
by beginning (constitutio). The Apostle also has employed
the language, saying, ‘Who hath chosen us before
the foundation of the world;’[44] and this foundation
he calls καταβολή, to be understood in the same
sense as before. It seems worth while, then, to inquire
what is meant by this new term; and I am, indeed,
of the opinion that as the end and consummation
of the saints will be in those (ages) which are not
seen, and are eternal, we must conclude that rational
creatures had also a similar beginning. And if they
had a beginning such as the end for which they hope,
they existed undoubtedly from the very beginning in
those (ages) which are not seen, and are eternal.
And if this is so, then there has been a descent from
a higher to a lower condition, on the part not only of
those souls who have deserved the change by the variety
of their movements, but also on that of those who,
in order to serve the whole world, were brought down
from those higher and invisible spheres to these lower
and visible ones, although against their will. From
this it follows that by the use of the word καταβολή, a
descent from a higher to a lower condition, shared by
all in common, would seem to be pointed out. The
236hope of freedom is entertained by the whole of creation—of
being liberated from the corruption of slavery—when
the sons of God, who either fell away or
were scattered abroad, shall be gathered into one, and
when they shall have fulfilled their duties in this
world.”
Many contemporaneous and subsequent writers
censured Origen for this opinion, but his doctrine was
maintained by a large number of strong followers and
independent thinkers.
Even in Jerome and Augustine certain passages indicate
that they held this theory in part. In his Epistle
to Avitus, Jerome agrees with Origen as to the interpretation
of the passage above mentioned by Origen,
“Who hath chosen us before the foundation of the
world.” He says “a divine habitation, and a true
rest above, I think, is to be understood, where rational
creatures dwelt, and where, before their descent to a
lower position, and removal from invisible to visible
(worlds), and fall to earth, and need of gross bodies,
they enjoyed a former blessedness. Whence God the
Creator made for them bodies suitable to their humble
position, and created this visible world and sent into
the world ministers for their salvation.”
The Latin Fathers Nemesius, Synesius, and Hilarius
boldly defend preëxistence, though taking exception
to Origen’s form of it. Of Synesius, most familiar
to English readers as the convent patriarch in
“Hypatia,” it is known that when the citizens of
Ptolemais invited him to their bishopric, he declined
that dignity for the reason that he cherished certain
opinions which they might not approve, as after mature
reflection they had struck deep roots in his mind.
Foremost among these he mentioned the doctrine of
237preëxistence. Vestiges of this belief are discerned in
his writings; for example, in the Greek hymn paraphrased
as follows:—
Eternal Mind, thy seedling spark
Through this thin vase of clay
Athwart the waves of chaos dark
Emits a timorous ray!
This mind-enfolding soul is sown
Incarnate germ in earth.
In pity, blessed Lord, then own
What claims in Thee its birth.
Far forth from Thee, Thou central fire,
To earth’s sad bondage cast,
Let not the trembling spark expire,
Absorb Thine own at last.
Another of this group, Prudentius, entertained
nearly the same idea as that of Origen concerning the
soul’s descent from higher seats to earth, as appears in
one of his hymns:—
O Saviour, bid my soul, thy trembling spouse,
Return at last to Thee believing.
Bind, bind anew those all unearthly vows
She broke on high and wandered grieving.
Although Origen’s teaching was condemned by the
Council of Constantinople in 551, it permanently colored
the stream of Christian theology, not only in many
scholastics and medieval heterodoxies, but through all
the later course of religious thought, in many isolated
individuals and groups.
IX. REINCARNATION IN THE EAST TO-DAY.
239
240A man may travel from one end of the kingdom to the other
without money, feeding and lodging as well as the people.
A Missionary in Burmah.
Buddhism has not deceived, and it has not persecuted. In this
respect it can teach Christians a lesson. The unconditioned command,
“Thou shalt not kill,” which applies to all living creatures, has had
great influence in softening the manners of the Monguls. This command
is connected with the doctrine of transmigration of souls, which
is one of the essential doctrines of this system as well as of Brahmanism.
Buddhism also inculcates a positive humanity consisting of good
actions.—James Freeman Clarke.
He lived musing the woes of man,
The ways of fate, the doctrines of the books,
The secrets of the silence whence all come,
The secrets of the gloom whereto all go,
The life that lies between like that arch flung
From cloud to cloud across the sky, which hath
Mists for its masonry and vapory piers.
The Light of Asia.
241
IX.
REINCARNATION IN THE EAST TO-DAY.
The religious philosophy of the Orient, like everything
else there, remains now substantially the same as
in the earliest times. History cannot say when Brahmanism
did not flourish among the multitudes of India.
Buddhism, the later Protestant phase of the old faith,
which abolished its abuses of priesthood and caste and
spread its reformation broadcast through Asia, did
not alter the original teaching of re-birth, but rather
confirmed and popularized the truth that has lain at
the heart of India from remotest ages. Reincarnation
is the sap-root of eastern religion and permeates the
Veda scriptures.
While it is claimed by the West that the religion of
Sakya Muni is below that of Jesus, as inspiring an
exalted selfishness in distinction to the generous sacrifice
taught by Christianity; while it is true that the
best Buddhists lead a passive, submissive life which
made them easy spoil for conquering races and has
not accomplished any result in civilization since the
first ancient subjugation; while Buddhism with its
mortification and self-centred goodness is even more
distasteful to the western race than the meditative
dreamy asceticism of Brahmanism: it is equally certain
that these eastern religions are far more really
242lived by their followers than Christianity is with us;
it must be admitted that a spiritual selfishness, which
is so thoroughly practiced as to bear all the fruits of
generous love, is preferable to a noble sacrifice, which
is so largely precept as to appear to the naked eye
a civilized barbarism; and it is worth considering
whether Christendom may not gain as much by learning
the secret of Eastern superiority to materialism,
as the Orient is gaining by the infusion of Western
activity. Travelers agree that in many parts of inner
China, Thibet, Central India, and Ceylon the daily life
of Buddhism is so like the realization of Christianity,
as to give strong support to the theory of the Indian
origin of our religion. There is a practical demonstration
of what reincarnation will do for a race, and a
hint of the grander result which would accrue from
grafting that principle into the real life of the stronger
Saxon, Teutonic, and Celtic stock. Knowing the indestructibility
of the soul, the evanescence of the body,
and the permanence of spiritual traits as formed by
thought, word, and deed, the whole energy of life is
focused upon purity of self and charity to others. To
love one’s enemies, to abstain from even defensive
warfare, to govern the soul, to obey one’s superiors, to
venerate age, to provide food and shelter, to tolerate
all differences of opinion and religion, are guiding
maxims of actual life. They are as vitally and generally
translated into flesh and blood as in primitive
Christianity or in Count Tolstoi’s flock. Honesty,
modesty, and simplicity prevail in these sections.
Women are held in the same esteem as in the ancient
Sanskrit epoch, and children are treated more beautifully
than in many Christian homes. A lady traveler,
known to the writer, who witnessed this, said that if
243her lot were that of a friendless woman, she knew no
place on earth where she would labor and dwell more
happily than in Ceylon. As the peasantry receive reincarnation
in the simplest and extremest form of human
re-births in animal bodies, every living creature
is regarded by them as a possible relative. Gentleness
to the animal creation abounds as nowhere else
in the world. It is a sin to kill any beast. It is a
virtue to offer one’s life for a distressed animal, as
the popular tradition holds that Buddha did in one
life by throwing himself to a famished tigress. Death
is no object of dread, but a welcome benefactor, transferring
them forward in their progress to the goal of
rest. To die for any good purpose, as under the sacred
Brahman car of Juggernaut, or in some one’s behalf,
is the common aspiration; so much so that it is
difficult for the missionaries to gain any feeling for
the death on the cross, as they think any one would
easily suffer that.
The Brahmans have for ages studied the problems
of ontology and the soul’s future, by severest introspection
and acutest thought, to build their system,
which is a vast elaboration of religious metaphysics,
upon a theistic basis. Reincarnation is the cornerstone
of this structure. Many of the higher Brahmans
are believed to have penetrated the veils concealing
past existences. It is related, for instance, that when
Apollonius of Tyana visited India, the Brahman
Iarchus told him that “the truth concerning the soul
is as Pythagoras taught you and as we taught the
Egyptians,” and mentioned that he (Apollonius) in a
previous incarnation was an Egyptian steersman, and
had refused the inducements offered him by pirates
to guide his vessel into their hands. The common
244people of India are sure that certain of the Brahmans
and Buddhists are still able to verify by their finer
senses the reality of reincarnation. And many educated
natives and resident foreigners in India have
witnessed evidences of this keen power of insight associated
with other extraordinary qualities which compelled
them to believe in it.
Brahmanism and Buddhism are practically agreed
upon the philosophy of reincarnation, as the great
Buddhist revolt against priestcraft only emphasized
this doctrine. Every branch of these systems aims
at the means of winning escape from the necessity of
repeated births. The ardent and final desire of all
is expressed by the words of the sage Bharata:—
“And may the purple self-existent god (Siva),
Whose vital energy pervades all space,
From future transmigrations save my soul.”
There are, however, great differences in these two
faiths as to the means and the result. Both contend
that all forms are the penance of nature. They regard
personal existence as an empty delusion and the exemption
from it as true salvation. The Brahman
seeks Nirvana, which is absorption in Brahm, as the
reality at the heart of things; the Buddhist considers
this also unreal, and finds no reality but in
the silence and peace attained beyond Nirvana. In
the Brahman’s paradise, one is so free from desire
that no need remains for perpetuating his individual
existence. But after that comes Pan-Nirvana, which
is utter inaction and disappearance, a condition so
difficult for a Western mind to comprehend that it
persists in falsely calling it and Nirvana alike—annihilation.
The Buddhist’s one duty of life and the
means of attaining his goal is mortification, the extinction
245of affection and desire. But the Brahman’s
work is contemplation, illumination, communion with
Brahm, religious study, and asceticism. The creed
of Buddhism is universal; that of Brahmanism is
exclusive. The Buddhist saint may come from any
class, for the raison d’être of his faith is the abolition
of caste. But only the wearer of the sacred Brahman
thread can aspire to direct union with Brahm; the
lower castes must undergo painful fakir penances
until they attain the Brahman estate.
Northern Buddhism has been defined as almost
identical with Gnosticism. It has spun a dense fabric
of legend and speculation about this central thought
of the soul’s gradual evolution from the natural to
the spiritual. The Hindus believe that human souls
emanated from the Supreme Being, and became gradually
immersed in matter, forgetting their divine
origin, and straying in bewildered condition back to
him through many lives, after a protracted round of
births in partial reparation. Having become contaminated
with sin, we must work out our release
through earthly lives in the delusive arena of sense
until the reality of spiritual existence is attained.
So long as the soul is not pure enough for re-mergence
into Brahm, we must be born again repeatedly,
and the degree of our impurity determines what these
births shall be. So closely is the account of the soul’s
misdeeds kept that it may pass through thousands of
years in one or another of the heavens in reward for
good deeds, and yet be obliged later to descend to earth
for certain ancient sins. The Laws of Manu give a
standard by which the moral consequences of various
human actions are measured with great detail.[45] A
246more general doctrine is based on the assumption of
three Cosmic qualities—goodness, passion, and darkness—in
the human soul. On this ground Manu and
other writers built an intricate theory, providing that
souls of the first quality become deities, those of the
second, men, and those of the third, beasts.
The Hindu conception of reincarnation embraces
all existence—gods, men, animals, plants, minerals.
It is believed that everything migrates, from Buddha
down to inert matter. Hardy tells us that Buddha
himself was born an ascetic eighty-three times, a monarch
fifty-eight times, as the soul of a tree forty-three
times, and many other times as ape, deer, lion,
snipe, chicken, eagle, serpent, pig, frog, etc., amounting
to four hundred times in all. A Chinese authority
represents Buddha as saying, “The number of my
births and deaths can only be compared to those of
all the plants in the universe.” Birth is the gate
which opens into every state, and merit determines
into which it shall open. Earth and human life are
an intermediary stage, resulting from many previous
places and forms and introducing many more. There
are multitudes of inhabited worlds upon which the
same person is successively born according to his attractions.
To the earthly life he may return again
and again, dropping the memory of past experiences,
and carrying, like an embryonic germ, the concisest
summary of former lives into each coming one. Every
act bears upon the resultant which shall steer the soul
into its next habitation, not only on earth, but in the
more exalted or debased regions of “Heaven” and
“Hell.” Thus “the chain of the law” binds all existences,
and the only escape is by the final absorption
into Brahm.
247While the Hindus generally hold that the same
soul appears at different births, the heretical Southern
Buddhists teach that the succession of existences is a
succession of souls, bred from one another, like the
sprouting of new generations from plants and animals,
and like the new light kindled from an old lamp, the
result, but not the identity of the former. Another
curious aspect of these Indian speculations is the
view of certain Northern Buddhists, who divide eternity
into gigantic cycles which shall at length bring
around again a precise repetition of earlier events.
This is similar to the grand periodic year of the Stoics
and of the Epicurean Atomists, and to the continual
metempsychosis of Pythagoras, which provided that
the identical Plato would again and again, at certain
tremendous intervals staggering any one but a Greek
or Hindu metaphysician, appear at the same Academy
and deliver the same lectures, etc.
Zoroastrians and Sufi Mohamedans, with their
usual antipathy to Indian thought, limit their conceptions
of reincarnation to a few repeated lives on earth,
which some of the Persian and Arabian mystics stretch
out to a larger number, but soon disappearing either
back into the original source or into darker scenes.
X. EASTERN POETS UPON REINCARNATION. — FROM THE PERSIAN. — THE SUCCESSFUL SEARCH.
249
250Here shalt thou pluck from the most ancient shells
The whitest pearls of wisdom’s treasury.
Edwin Arnold.
Young and enterprising is the West,
Old and meditative is the East.
Turn, O youth! with intellectual zest
Where the sage invites thee to his feast.
Eastward roll the orbs of heaven,
Westward tend the thoughts of men.
Let the poet, nature-driven,
Wander eastward now and then.
Milnes.
251
X.
EASTERN POETS UPON REINCARNATION.
All Eastern poetry finds a favorite theme in metempsychosis,
and the literature of India is thoroughly
saturated with it. The fervent passion, the subtle
thought, the luxuriant imagery which permeate Asiatic
life are centred upon this common philosophy. But
the best portion of this enormous wealth of fantasy
is withheld from us, simply because of its revelry in
this very thought which is generally unattractive to
the West. What oriental poetry enters our language
is chiefly erotic or epic, and the most characteristic
of all is left for the few educated natives to enjoy.
We can therefore only select a few representative
gems from this unworked mine, illustrating the Muses
of India, Persia, and Arabia. Among the ancient
Sanskrit epics are discovered beautiful renderings of
the thought of many births. The delicacy and tenderness
of Persian poetry furnish charming expressions
of the Zoroastrian aspirations for release from
earthly bondages to reascend homeward. The Arabian
mysticism of the Sufis directs their intense subjectivity
into ecstatic phrasings of the same idea.
In the wonderful ancient Sanskrit drama “Sakoontala”
by Kalidésa, translated by Monier Williams,
occur these passages:—
252This peerless maid is like a fragrant flower
Whose perfumed breath has never been diffused.
A gem of priceless water, just released
Pure and unblemished from its glittering bed.
Or rather is she like the mellowed fruit
Of virtuous actions in some former birth
Now brought to full perfection.
That song has filled me with a most peculiar sweetness.
I seem to yearn after some long forgotten love.
Not seldom in our happy hours of ease
When thought is still, the sight of some fair form,
Or mournful fall of music breathing low
Will stir strange fancies thrilling all the soul
With a mysterious sadness and a sense
Of vague yet earnest longing. Can it be
That the dim memory of events long passed,
Or friendships formed in other states of being
Flits like a passing shadow o’er the spirit?
The Sanskrit “Katha Upanishad,” in Edwin Arnold’s
rendering as “The Secret of Death,” contains
a full explanation of the Eastern doctrine.
For his noble sacrifice Yama (Death) grants to
Nachikêtas the privilege of asking three boons. After
naming and receiving the first two Nachikêtas
says:—
“Thou dost give peace—is that peace nothingness?
Some say that after death the soul still lives,
Personal, conscious; some say, nay, it ends:
Fain would I know which of these twain be true,
By the enlightened. Be my third boon this.”
Then Yama answered, “This was asked of old,
Even by the gods! This is a subtle thing,
Not to be told, hard to be understood:
Ask me some other boon: I may not grant.”
253Nachikêtas insists upon this, and will not accept the
wealths, powers, and pleasures which Death offers as
a substitute.
Then Yama yielded, granting the great boon,
And spake: “Know, first of all, that what is Good
And what is Pleasant—these be separate!
By many ways, in diverse instances
Pleasure and Good lay hold upon each man!
Blessed is he who, choosing high, lets go
Pleasure for Good. The Pleasure-seekers lose
Life’s end, so lived. The Pleasant and the Good
Solicit men: the sage, distinguishing
By understanding, followeth the Good,
Being more excellent. The foolish man
Cleaveth to Pleasure, seeking still to have,
To keep, enjoy. The foolish ones who live
In ignorance, holding themselves as wise
And well instructed, tread the round of change
With erring steps, deluded, like the blind
Led by the blind. The necessary road
Which brings to life unchanging is not seen
By such: wealth dazzles heedless hearts: deceived
With shows of sense, they deem their world is real
And the unseen is naught; so, constantly,
Fall they beneath my stroke. To reach to Being
Beyond all seeming Being, to know true life—
This is not gained by many; seeing that few
So much as hear of it, and of those few
The more part understandeth not.
“The uttermost true soul is ill-perceived
By him who, unenlightened, sayeth: I
Am I: thou, thou; and the life divided: He
That knoweth life undifferenced, declares
The spirit, what it is, One with the All.
And this is Truth. But nowise shall the truth
Be compassed, if thou speak of small and great.
254“Excellent youth! the knowledge thou didst crave
Comes not with speech: words are the false world’s signs.
By insight surely comes it if one hears.
Lo! thou hast loved the Truth, and striven for it.
I would that others, Nachikêtas, strove!
“Only the wise who patiently do sever
Their thought from shows and fix it upon truths,
See HIM, the Perfect and Unspeakable,
Hard to be seen, retreating, ever hid
Deeper and deeper in the uttermost;
Whose house was never entered, who abides
Now and before and always; and so seeing
Are freed from griefs and pleasures.”
“Make it known to me,” he saith,
“Who is He? what? whom thou hast knowledge of.”
Then Yama spake:
“The answer whereunto all vedas lead;
The answer whereunto as penance strives;
The answer whereunto those strive that live
As seekers after God—hear this from me.
Who knoweth the word Om (which meaneth God)
With all its purports; what his heart would have
His heart possesseth. This of spoken speech
Is wisest, deepest, best, supremest. He
That speaketh it, and wotteth what he speaks
Is worshiped in the place of Brahm, with Brahm!
Also, the soul which knoweth thus itself
It is not born. It doth not die. It sprang
From none, and it begetteth none. Unmade,
Immortal, changeless, primal. I can break
The body, but that soul I cannot harm.”
“If he that slayeth thinks ‘I slay’; if he
Whom he doth slay thinks ‘I am slain,’ then both
Know not aright. That which was life in each
Cannot be slain nor slay. The untouched soul,
Greater than all the worlds (because the worlds
By it subsist); smaller than subtleties
255Of things minutest; last of ultimates,
Sits in the hollow heart of all that lives!
Whoso hath laid aside desire and fear,
His senses mastered and his spirit still,
Sees in the quiet light of verity
Eternal, safe, majestical—his soul:
Resting it ranges everywhere: asleep
It roams the world, unsleeping: who, save I,
Know that divinest spirit as it is,
Glad beyond joy, existing outside life?
Beholding it in bodies bodiless,
Amid impermanency permanent,
Embracing all things, yet in the midst of all
The mind enlightened casts its grief away:
It is not to be known by knowledge: man
Wotteth it not by wisdom: learning vast
Halts short of it: only by soul itself
Is soul perceived—when the Soul wills it so
There shines no light save its own light to show
Itself unto itself: none compasseth
Its joy who is not wholly ceased from sin,
Who dwells not self-controlled, self-centred, calm,
Lord of himself. It is not gotten else.
Brahm hath it not to give.
“The man unwise, unmindful, evil-lived
Comes not to that fixed place of peace; he falls
Back to the region of sense life again.
The wise and mindful one, heart purified,
Attaineth to the changeless Place, wherefrom
Never again shall births renew for him.
Then hath he freedom over all worlds
And, if it wills the region of the Past,
The fathers and the mothers of the Past
Come to receive it; and that soul is glad:
And if it wills the regions of the Homes,
The Brothers and the Sisters of the Homes
256Come to receive it; and that soul is glad:
And if it wills the region of the Friends,
The well-beloved come to welcome it
With love undying; and that soul is glad.
And if it wills a world of grace and peace
Where garlands are and perfumes and delights
Of delicate meats and drinks, music and song,
Lo! fragrances and blossoms and delights
Of dainty banquets and the streams of song
Come to it; and that soul is glad.
Whoso once perceiveth Him that is
Without a name, Unseen, Impalpable,
Bodiless, Timeless, such an one is saved,
Death hath not power upon him.”
Although not an Asiatic poem in the ordinary
sense, we do not hesitate to place in this cluster Edwin
Arnold’s “Light of Asia.” After the festival scene
in which the prince distributed prizes to the maiden
victors in the sports, and his love had centred upon
Yasôdhara, the last of the contestants, follow these
lines:—
Long after, when enlightenment was full,
Lord Buddha, being prayed why thus his heart
Took fire at first glance of the Sâkya girl,
Answered: “We were not strangers as to us
And all it seemed; in ages long gone by
A hunter’s son, playing with forest girls
By Yamun’s springs, where Nandadevi stands
Sate umpire while they raced beneath the firs
Like hares at eve that run their playful rings;
One with flower-like stars crowned he, one with long plumes,
Plucked from the pheasant and the jungle cock,
One with fir apples; but who ran the last
Came first for him, and unto her the boy
257Gave a tame fawn and his heart’s love beside.
And in the wood they lived many glad years,
And in the wood they undivided died.
Lo! as hid seed shoots after rainless years,
So good and evil, pains and pleasures, hates
And loves, and all dead deeds come forth again
Bearing bright leaves or dark, sweet fruit or sour.
Thus was I he and she Yasôdhara;
And while the wheel of birth and death turns round
That which hath been must be between us two.”
In other passages of the same poem Buddha tells
how his athletic triumph over the suitors for Yasôdhara,
in which she wore a black and gold veil, was but
a new version of an ancient forest battle, when as a
tiger he conquered all the rival claimants for the
black and gold-striped tigress Yasôdhara; how ages
before in time of famine, when he was a Brahman, he
compassionately threw himself to a starving tigress;
and how his final salvation of Yasôdhara by the enlightened
doctrine repeated a transaction centuries
old, when he was a pearl merchant and sacrificed the
priceless gem containing all his fortune to rescue this
same wife Yasôdhara from hunger.
A typical expression of the Zoroastrian phase of
reincarnation is found in this poem:—
BY ARCHBISHOP R. C. TRENCH.
Happy are you, starry brethren, who from heaven do not roam,
In the eternal Father’s mansion from the first have dwelt at home.
258Round the Father’s throne forever standing in his countenance,
Sunning you, you see the seven circling heavens around you dance.
Me he has cast out to exile in a distant land to learn
How I should love Him the Father, how for that true country yearn.
I lie here, a star of heaven, fallen upon this gloomy place,
Scarce remembering what bright courses I was once allowed to trace.
Still in dreams it comes upon me, that I once on wings did soar;
But or e’er my flight commences this my dream must all be o’er.
When the lark is climbing upward in the sunbeam, then I feel
Even as though my spirit also hidden pinions could reveal.
I a rosebud to this lower soil of earth am fastly bound,
And with heavenly dew besprinkled still am rooted to the ground.
Yet the life is struggling upward, stirring still with all their might,
Yearning buds that cry to open to the warmth and heavenly light.
From its stalk released, my flower soars not yet a butterfly,
But meanwhile my fragrant incense evermore I breathe on high.
By my Gardener to his garden I shall once transplanted be,
There where I have been already written from eternity.
259Oh, my brothers blooming yonder, unto Him the ancient—pray
That the hour of my transplanting He will not for long delay.
Hafiz, the prince of Persian poets, figures the soul
as the phœnix alighting on Tuba, the Tree of Life:—
My phœnix long ago secured
His nest in the sky-vault’s cope;
In the body’s cage immured
He was weary of life’s hope.
Round and round this heap of ashes
Now flies the bird amain,
But in that odorous niche of heaven
Nestles the bird again.
Once flies he upward he will perch
On Tuba’s golden bough;
His home is on that fruited arch
Which cools the blest below.
If over this sad world of ours
His wings my phœnix spread,
How gracious falls on land and sea
The soul-refreshing shade!
Either world inhabits he,
Sees oft below him planets roll;
His body is all of air compact,
Of Allah’s love, his soul.
The following Sufi poem will illustrate the passionate
phase of reincarnation which appears in the spiritual
absorption of the Mohammedan mystics. It is
260not surprising that the intensity of their rapturous piety
has drawn among their ranks of meditative devotees
the most distinguished religionists, philosophers,
and poets of the whole Persian and Arabian Orient:
I was ere a name had been named upon earth,—
Ere one trace yet existed of aught that has birth,—
When the locks of the Loved One streamed forth for a sign,
And being was none save the Presence Divine!
Ere the veil of the flesh for Messiah was wrought
To the Godhead I bowed in prostration of thought.
I measured intensely, I pondered with heed
(But ah! fruitless my labor) the Cross and its creed.
To the Pagod I rushed, and the Magian’s shrine,
But my eye caught no glimpse of a glory divine:
The reins of research to the Caaba I bent,
Whither hopefully thronging the old and young went;
Candasai and Herát searched I wistfully through,
Nor above nor beneath came the Loved One to view!
I toiled to the summit, wild, pathless and lone,
Of the globe-girding Kâf, but the Phœnix had flown.
The seventh earth I traversed, the seventh heaven explored,
But in neither discerned I the Court of the Lord.
I questioned the Pen and the Tablet of Fate,
But they whispered not where He pavilions his state.
My vision I strained, but my God-scanning eye
No trace that to Godhead belongs could descry.
But when I my glance turned within my own breast,
Lo! the vainly sought Loved One, the Godhead confessed.
In the whirl of its transport my spirit was tossed
Till each atom of separate being I lost:
And the bright sun of Tanniz a madder than me
Or a wilder, hath never yet seen, nor shall see.
XI. ESOTERIC ORIENTAL REINCARNATION.
261
262Life’s thirst quenches itself
With draughts which double thirst, but who is wise
Tears from his soul this Trishna, feeds his sense
No longer on false shows, files his mind
To seek not, strive not, wrong not; bearing meek
All ills which flow from foregone wrongfulness,
And so constraining passions that they die.
Thus grows he sinless: either never more
Needing to find a body and a place,
Or so informing what freer frame it takes
In new existence that the new toils prove
Lighter and lighter not to be at all,
Thus “finishing the path”; free from earth’s cheats;
Released from all the skandhas of the flesh;
Broken from ties—from Upâdân—saved
From whirling on the wheel; aroused and sane
As is a man wakened from hateful dreams.
Till aching craze to live ends, and life glides
Lifeless—to nameless quiet, nameless joy,
Blessed Nirvana—sinless, stirless rest—
That change which never changes.
The Light of Asia.
263
XI.
ESOTERIC ORIENTAL REINCARNATION.
Throughout the East to-day, as in all past time,
the higher priesthood controls a spiritual science which
has been accumulated by long ages of severest study,
and is concealed from the vulgar world. This is no
mere elaboration of fanciful philosophy, as is much of
eastern metaphysics, patiently spun from secluded
speculation like the mediæval scholasticism of Europe.
It is a purely rational development of psychology by
the aid of scientific inquiry. Through protracted
investigation and crucial tests repeatedly applied to
actual experience and through retrospective and prophetic
insight they have probed many of the secrets of
the soul. The falsity of materialism and the all-commanding
power of spirit are proven beyond a cavil.
How the soul is independent of the physical body,
sometimes leaving and returning to it, and moulding
it to suit its needs; how all nature is but a vast family
embodied in physical clothing and inextricably interlaced
in living brotherhood, from lowest atom to sublimest
archangel; how the gradual evolution of all
races proceeds through revolving cycles in a constantly
ascending order of things;—these and many other
stupendous spiritual facts are to them familiarly
known. These masters of human mystery hold themselves
apart from the populace and seldom appear to
264any but their special disciples, but they are universally
believed in by the natives of India, as the miraculous
evidences of their penetration into nature’s heart
have been seen of many. Moreover, ocular demonstration
of the existence and phenomenal capacities of
these Mahatmas has frequently been given to well-known
officials and reputable foreigners, whose testimony
is on record.
Although these highest adepts keep most of their
discoveries secret, preferring to enlighten mankind indirectly
and by a wholesome gradual uplifting, occasional
expressions have been given of the occult philosophy
derived from their funds of science, and from
these we abridge what they are said to teach concerning
reincarnation. Even in the books containing their
doctrine, as “Man,” “Esoteric Buddhism,” “Light
on the Path,” and “Through the Gates of Gold,”[46] we
surmise that portions relating to specific details are
more or less arbitrary and exoteric. Therefore we
confine our attention to a synopsis of their central
principles of the subject.
These masters tell us that man is composed of seven
principles intricately interwoven so as to constitute a
unit and yet capable of partial separation. This septenary
division is only a finer analysis of the common
triple distinctions, body, soul, and spirit, and runs
through the entire universe. The development of
man is in the order of these divisions, from body to
spirit and from spirit to body, in a continual round of
incarnations. The progress may be best illustrated
by a seven-coiled spiral which sweeps with a wider
curve at every ascent. The spiral is not a steady upward
incline, but at one side sags down into materiality
265and at the other side rises into spirituality,—the
material portion of each ring being the lowest side of
its curve, but always higher than the corresponding
previous descent. Furthermore, each ring of the spiral
is itself a seven-fold spiral, and each of these again is
a seven-fold spiral, and so on to an indefinite number
of subdivisions.
The evolutionary process requires for its complete
unfoldment a number of planets[47] corresponding to the
seven principles. On each of these planets a long series
of lives is necessary before one can advance to the next.
After a full circuit is made the course must be repeated
again on a higher plane, until many successive
series of the planetary rotations, each involving hundreds
of separate lives, has developed the individual
into the perfect fullness of experience. Some of these
planets are unknown to astronomy, being of too fine a
materiality for our present perceptions, and on them
man is very unlike his terrestrial appearance.
Since the first human souls began their career
through these cycles they have moved along the entire
planetary chain three times, and now, for the
fourth time, we have reached the fourth planet—Earth.
266We are therefore, roughly speaking, about half developed,
physically. During the previous series of earthly
inhabitations we were exceedingly different from our
present form, and during the later ones we shall enter
upon still more marvelous stages. With each grand
series (or round) a dimension is added to man’s conception
of space. The fourth dimension will be a
common fact of consciousness before we complete the
present set of earthly lives. Before reaching the perfection
attainable here at each round every soul must
pass through many minor circuits. We are said to be
in the middle of the fifth circuit (or race) of our
fourth round, and the evolution of this fifth race began
about a million years ago. Each race is subdivided,
and each of these divisions again dissected, making
the total number of lives allotted to each round very
large. No human being can escape the earth’s attraction
until these are accomplished, with only rare
exceptions among those who by special merit have outstripped
the others: for although all began alike, the
contrasted uses of the universal opportunities have
produced all the variations now existing in the human
race. The geometrical progression of characteristics
selected by each soul has resulted in vast divergences.
Long before the twilight of our birth into the present
life we passed through an era of immense duration
on this planet as spiritual beings, gradually descending
into matter to enter the bodies which were developed
up from the highest animal type for our reception.
Our evolution therefore is a double one—on the spiritual
side from ethereal races of infinite pedigree, and
on the physical side from the lower animals.
In the first earthly circuit of the last great series
(or round) we passed through seven ethereal sub-races.
267Each of these developed one astral sense, until the seventh
sub-race had seven senses. What the sixth and
seventh were we cannot imagine, but in time we shall
know, as we are at present tracing over again that
path more perfectly, and have reached only the fifth of
the seven stages on this circuit. The first of these
seven sub-races slowly acquired the sense of physical
sight. All the other parts of the sensuous nature
were in shadowy latency. They had no notion of distance,
solidity, sound, or smell. Even colors were hidden
from the earliest men, all being white at first.
Each incarnation in this race developed more of the
prismatic hues in their rainbow order, beginning with
red. But the one sense of sight was so spiritual that
it amounted to clairvoyancy. The second sub-race inherited
sight and developed newly touch. Through
the repeated lives in this rank the sense of feeling became
wonderfully delicate and acute, possessing the
psychometric quality and revealing the inner as well
as the outer nature of the things to which it was applied.
The third sub-race attained hearing, and its
spiritual development of this sense was so keen that
the most subtle sounds, as the budding leaf and the
motion of the heavenly bodies, was clearly perceived.
The fourth sub-race added smell to the other three
senses, and the fifth entered into taste. The sixth and
seventh unfolded the remaining senses, which are beyond
our present ken.
In the second circuit (or race) the soul began once
more with a single sense and passed through another
course of sub-races, rehearsing the scale of the senses
with a larger control of them, though less spiritual.
But even in the third circuit the repeated unfoldments
of the senses toward their physical destiny had still
268retained a large degree of spiritual quality, as the men
themselves were still ethereal.
Our first terrestrial appearance in the present circuit
(the fifth race) was in spiritual form, having only
astral bodies. This primitive ethereal race occupied
the earth long before it was geologically prepared for
the historical human races. The development of the
physical senses in their present form marks the stages
of our reincarnation in the present race, which is called
the descent into matter. Each turn in this circuit
has carried forward the evolution of the senses in a
fixed order, until now we have a firmer hold than
ever before upon those five which indicate the extent
of our progress in the present stage. Our repeated
re-births have obscured the long vista of the ages
through which we have traveled to this point, running
through the seven-toned gamut over and over
again, first in broad rough outline, then finishing the
details more carefully at each iteration. Their early
spiritual forms have gradually given way to the modern
physical forms, but some persons still retain a portion
of those old guises that once were universal, in
certain peculiarly delicate senses known as second
sight, psychometry, clairaudence, tasting through the
fingers, and smelling like a hound. In our present
era the sense of taste has become the last and most
fully developed and the characteristic sense. At first
the body did not require food; then becoming grosser
it inhaled it with the air, and as the condition approached
which now prevails, man became an eating
animal and is grown to an epicure. When we shall
have completed the full number of rounds on this
earth we shall have not only the other two senses, but
shall govern all seven in a triple form as physical,
astral, and spiritual.
269The most important fact in our evolution, and the
cause of the present phase of existence, with its blinding
encasements of matter and evil, is the growth of
a personal will. This is the forbidden fruit of the
Bible Paradise. It originated many cycles back and
gradually flourished, until its impress was stamped
upon all our fellow-creatures. At first starting as
selfish desires, then urging motives for rivalry, it resulted
in fierce contest between man and man. The
concentration of the soul in selfish energy clouded the
inner spiritual nature, destroyed the trace of ethereal
descent, and buried us deep in the material world.
But this “fall into matter” is really but a necessary
curve of the spiral, and is the dawn of a brighter day
such as humanity has never seen.
Death marks the origin of the turn which human
evolution is at present describing. The earlier races
had no sense of age and did not die. Like Enoch, they
“walked with God” into the next period of their
life. At present when a man dies his ego holds the
impetus of his earthly desires until they are purged
away from that higher self, which then passes into a
spiritual state, where all the psychic and spiritual
forces it has generated during the earthly life are unfolded.
It progresses on these planes until the dormant
physical impulses assert themselves and curve
the soul around to another incarnation, whose form is
the resultant of the earlier lives.
The successive appearances of the soul upon one or
many earths are a series of personalities which are
the various masks assumed by one individuality, the
numerous parts played by one actor. In each birth
the personality differs from the prior and later existence,
but the one line of individual continuity runs
270unbroken through all the countless forms; and as
the soul enters into its highest development it gradually
comprehends the whole course of forgotten paths
which have led to the summit.
The time spent by each soul in physical life is only
a small fraction of the whole period elapsing before
the next incarnation. The larger part of the time is
passed in the spiritual existence following death, in
which the physical desires and spiritual qualities derived
from the earthly life determine the condition
of being, until the impetus of unconscious character
brings the individual into another earthly life.
XII. TRANSMIGRATION THROUGH ANIMALS.
271
272All things are but altered, nothing dies,
And here and there th’ unbodied spirit flies
By time and force or sickness dispossessed
And lodges where it lights in man or beast.
Pythagoras, in Dryden’s Ovid.
What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning wild-fowl?
That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit a bird.
What thinkest thou of his opinion?
I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve of his opinion.
Shakespeare.
Whoever leaves off being virtuous ceases to be human; and since he
cannot attain to a divine nature he is turned into a beast.—Boethius.
Be not under any brutal metempsychosis while thou livest and
walkest about erectly under the form of man. Leave it not disputed
at last how thou hast predominantly passed thy days.—Sir Thomas
Browne.
That which has saved India and Egypt through so many misfortunes
and preserved their fertility is neither the Nile nor the
Ganges; it is the respect for animal life by the mild and gentle
heart of man.—Michelet.
Oh! the beautiful time will, must come when the beast-loving
Brahmin shall dwell in the cold north and make it warm, when man
who now honors humanity shall also begin to spare and finally to
protect the animated ascending and descending scale of living creatures.—Richter.
As many hairs as grow on the beast, so many similar deaths shall
the man who slays that beast for his own satisfaction in this world
pass through in the next from birth to birth.—Laws of Manu.
273
XII.
TRANSMIGRATION THROUGH ANIMALS.
The idea of reincarnation is so intimately connected
and so generally identified with the notion that human
souls sometimes descend into lower animals, that it is
necessary for us to thoroughly understand the exoteric
and gross nature of this grotesque phrasing of a solemn
and beautiful truth.
All the philosophies and religions teaching reincarnation
seem to teach also the wandering of human
souls through brute forms. It was the common
belief in Egypt and still is in Asia. All animals were
sacred to the Egyptians as the masks of fallen gods,
and therefore worshiped. The same reverence for
all creatures still reigns in the East. The Hindu
regards everything in the vast tropical jungle of illusion
as a human soul in disguise. The Laws of Manu
state: “For sinful acts mostly corporeal, a man shall
assume after death a vegetable or mineral form; for
such acts mostly verbal, the form of a bird or beast;
for acts mostly mental, the lowest of human conditions.”
“A priest who has drunk spirituous liquors shall
migrate into the form of a smaller or larger worm or
insect, of a moth or some ravenous animal.
“If a man steal grain in the husk he shall be born
274a rat; if a yellow-mixed metal, a gander; if water, a
plava or diver; if honey, a great stinging gnat; if
milk, a crow; if expressed juice, a dog; if clarified
butter, an ichneumon weasel.
“A Brahman killer enters the body of a dog, a
bear, an ass, a tiger, or a serpent.”
Not only does this conception permeate the domains
of Brahmanism and Buddhism; it prevailed in
Persia before the time of Zoroaster as since. Pythagoras
is said to have obtained it in Babylon from the
Magi, and through him it scattered widely through
Greece and Italy. More closely than with any other
teacher, this false doctrine is associated with the sage
of Crotona, who is said to have recognized the voice
of a deceased friend in the howling of a beaten dog.
Plato seems to endorse it also. Plotinus says: “Those
who have exercised human faculties are born again
men. Those who have used only their senses go into
the bodies of brutes, and especially into those of ferocious
beasts, if they have yielded to bursts of anger;
so that even in this case, the difference between the
bodies that they animate conforms to the difference of
their propensities. Those who have sought only to
gratify their lust and appetite pass into the bodies of
lascivious and gluttonous animals. Finally, those who
have degraded their senses by disuse are compelled to
vegetate in the plants. Those who have loved music
to excess and yet have lived pure lives, go into the
bodies of melodious birds. Those who have ruled
tyrannically become eagles. Those who have spoken
lightly of heavenly things, keeping their eyes always
turned toward heaven, are changed into birds which
always fly toward the upper air. He who has acquired
civic virtues becomes a man; if he has not these virtues
275he is transformed into a domestic animal, like the
bee.”
Some of the church fathers also believed it. Proclus
and Syrianus argued that the brute kept its own
soul, but that the human soul which passed into the
brute body was bound within the animal soul. Nearly
all mythology contains this view of transmigration in
some form. In the old Norse and German religions
the soul is poetically represented as entering certain
lower forms, as a rose, a pigeon, etc., for a short period
before assuming the divine abode. The Druids of old
Gaul also taught it. The Welsh bards tell us that the
souls of men transmigrate into the bodies of those animals
whose habits and characters they most resemble,
till, after a circuit of such penitential miseries, they
are purified for the celestial presence. They mention
three circles of existence: the circle of the all-inclosing
circle which holds nothing alive or dead but God;
the second circle, that of felicity, in which men travel
after they have meritoriously passed through their terrestrial
changes; the circle of evil, in which human
nature passes through the varying stages of existence
which it must undergo before it is qualified to inhabit
the circle of felicity, and this includes the three infelicities
of necessity, oblivion, and death, with frequent
trials of the lower animal lives.[48] “Sir Paul Rycant
gives us an account of several well-disposed Mohammedans
that purchase the freedom of any little bird
they see confined to a cage, and think they merit as
276much by it as we should do here by ransoming any of
our countrymen from their captivity at Algiers. The
reason is because they consider every animal as a
brother or sister in disguise, and therefore think themselves
obliged to extend their charity to them, though
under such mean circumstances. They tell you that
the soul of a man, when he dies, immediately passes
into the body of another man, or some brute which he
resembled in his humor, or his fortune, when he was
one of us.”[49] Pythagorean transmigration is apparent
also in the natives of Mexico, who think that the
souls of persons of rank after death inhabit the bodies
of beautiful, sweet singing birds and the nobler
quadrupeds, while the souls of inferior persons pass into
weasels, beetles, and other low creatures. Among the
negroes, the Sandwich Islanders, the Tasmanians, in
short, among nearly all the world outside of Christendom,
this faith rules unquestioned.
The lowest forms of this belief are found among the
tribes of Africa and America, which think that the
soul immediately after death must seek out a new tenement,
and, if need be, enter the body of an animal.
Some of the Africans assume that the soul will choose
the body of a person of similar rank to its former one,
and therefore bury the dead near the houses of their
relatives, enabling the unbodied souls to occupy
their new-born children. Sometimes holes are dug in
the grave to facilitate the soul’s egress, and the house-doors
are left open for its admission. The Druses
hold firmly to the theory of transmigration. The
folk-lore of all nations has various ways of telling how
the soul of a man can inhabit an animal’s body, in
stories of wehr-wolves, swan-maidens, mermaids, etc.
277In many parts of Europe the belief in the man-wolf
still flourishes in connection with a crazy person, or
a monomaniac, who is said to be transformed into
the brute nature. Northern Europe receives this
superstition as the man-bear. In India it is the man-tiger;
in Abyssinia, the man-hyena; in South Africa,
the man-lion; each country associating the depraved
human nature, which sometimes runs riot as an epidemic
mania, with the animal most dreaded.
But it is all a coarse symbol caricaturing the inner
vital truth of reincarnation, and springing from the
striking resemblance between men and animals, in
feature and disposition, in voice and mien. The intelligence
and kindness of the beasts approaching near
to human character, and the brutality of some men,
would seem to indicate that both races were closely
enough related to exchange souls. As an English
writer says: “A judicious critic or observant reader
will scarce allow that more than four or five in the
long catalogue of Roman emperors had any humanity;
and although they might perhaps have a just
claim to be styled Lords of the Earth, they had no
right to the title of Man. There is an excellent dissertation
in Erasmus on the princely qualities of the
eagle and the lion; wherein that great author has demonstrated
that emperors and kings are very justly
represented by those animals, or that there must be a
similarity in their souls, as all their actions are similar
and correspondent.”[50] Emerson has a paragraph
upon this in his essay on Demonology: “Animals
have been called ‘the dreams of nature.’ Perhaps for
278a conception of their consciousness we may go to our
own dreams. In a dream we have the instinctive obedience,
the same torpidity of the highest power, the
same unsurprised assent to the monstrous, as these
metamorphosed men exhibit. Our thoughts in a
stable or in a menagerie, on the other hand, may well
remind us of our dreams. What comparison do these
imprisoning forms awaken! You may catch the
glance of a dog sometimes which lays a kind of claim
to sympathy and brotherhood. What! somewhat of
me down there? Does he know it? Can he, too, as
I, go out of himself, see himself, perceive relations?
We fear lest the poor brute should gain one dreadful
glimpse of his condition. It was in this glance that
Ovid got the hint of his metamorphoses; Calidasa, of
his transmigration of souls. For these fables are our
own thoughts carried out. What keeps these wild
tales in circulation for thousands of years? What
but the wild fact to which they suggest some approximation
of theory? Nor is the fact quite solitary, for
in varieties of our own species where organization
seems to predominate over the genius of man, in Kalmuck
or Malay or Flathead Indian, we are sometimes
pained by the same feeling; and sometimes, too, the
sharp-witted prosperous white man awakens it. In a
mixed assembly we have chanced to see not only a
glance of Abdiel, so grand and keen, but also in other
faces the features of the mink, of the bull, of the rat,
and the barn-door fowl. You think, could the man
overlook his own condition, he could not be restrained
from suicide.”
The remarkable mental cleverness of the highest
animals, the cunning of the fox, the tiger’s fierceness,
the serpent’s meanness, the dog’s fidelity, seem to be
279human traits in other forms, and the animal qualities
are striking enough in many men for them to be fitly
described as a fox, a hog, a snake, etc. The characteristics
of animals are accurately termed in expressions
first applied to mankind, and the community of
disposition between the erect and the debased animal
creation has furnished words for human qualities from
the lower orders of life,—as leonine, canine, vulpine,
etc. Briefly, “the rare humanity of some animals and
the notorious animality of some men” first suggested
the idea of interchanging their souls among the primitive
peoples, and has nourished it ever since among the
oldest portion of the race as a vulgar illustration of a
vital reality.
As the fruits of this idea are beneficial, it was
firmly held by the priests and philosophers as a moral
fable, through which they popularly taught not only
reincarnation, but respect for virtue and for life. It
wrought a poetic love of nature in the masses such as
has never been seen under any other influence—and
which Christianity has strangely failed to establish.
Lecky candidly says in his “European Morals”: “In
the inculcation of humanity to animals on a wide scale
the Mohammedans and the Brahmins have considerably
surpassed the Christians.”
To the eastern mind life is a stream flowing through
endless transformations, and everything containing it
is divine, from the commonest onion to the crowned
king; and as all living things are the possible casements
of human souls, it is the height of impiety to
abuse anything. The kindness of the Orient toward
the brute creation is a beautiful comment upon the
genuineness of this faith. The mercy due from man
to his friends the lower animals is a noble bequest
280which has there been treasured for the world. As
the wholesome lesson of transmigration, Asia has thoroughly
learned that
He prayeth best who loveth best
All things both great and small,
For the dear Lord who loveth us
He made and loveth all.
But the intelligent leaders of oriental thought were
far from believing transmigration literally. The occult
theory of the priests of Isis, like that of the Brahmans,
Buddhists, and Chaldeans, never really held that
human souls inhabit animals, or that animal souls occupy
men, although many orientalists have not penetrated
beyond this outer court of eastern doctrine. It
was simply an allegorical gospel for the masses with
a double purpose,—to picture the inner truth which
acute thinkers would reach and which the crowds need
not know, and to instill respect for all life. The
Egyptian priesthood adopted three styles of teaching
all doctrine. The vulgar religion of the populace was
a crude shaping of the priestly thought. The priests
of the outer temple received the half-veiled tenets
of initiates. But only the hierophants of the inner
temple, after final initiation, were allowed to know
the pure truth. The same triple shaping of the central
thought, adapted to the audience, was followed
by Pythagoras, Plato, and all the great masters. Although
the name of Pythagoras is synonymous with
the idea of soul-wandering through animals, a careful
perusal of the fragments of his writings, and of his
disciples’ books, shows that he tremendously realized
the fact that souls must always, by all the forces of
the universe, find an adequate expression of their
281strongest nature, and that it would be as impossible
for a gallon to be contained in a pint measure, as for
a human spirit to inhabit an animal body. That the
teaching of Pythagoras on this point was purely allegorical
is proven by the abridgment of his philosophy
given by his disciple Hierocles: “The man who has
separated himself from a brutal life by the right use
of reason, purified himself as much as is possible from
excess of passions, and by this become a man from
a wild beast, shall become a God from a man, as far
as it is possible for a man to become a God.... We
can only cure our tendency downwards by the power
that leads upwards, by a ready submission to God,
by a total conversion to the divine law. The end of
the Pythagorean doctrine is to be all wings for the
reception of divine good, that when the time of death
comes we may leave behind us upon earth the mortal
body, and be ready girt for our heavenly journey.
Then we are restored to our primitive state. This is
the most beautiful end.”
Hierocles also comments on the Golden Verses of
Pythagoras: “If through a shameful ignorance of the
immortality annexed to our soul, a man should persuade
himself that his soul dies with his body, he expects
what can never happen; in like manner he who expects
that after his death he shall put on the body of
a beast, and become an animal without reason, because
of his vices, or a plant because of his dullness and stupidity,—such
a man, I say, acting quite contrary to
those who transform the essence of man into one of the
superior beings, is infinitely deceived, and absolutely
ignorant of the essential form of the soul, which can
never change; for being and continuing always man,
it is only said to become God or beast by virtue or
282vice, though it cannot be either the one or the other.”[51]
The early Neo-Platonists of Alexandria limited the
range of human metempsychosis to human bodies and
denied that the souls of men ever passed downwards
into brutal states. Even the apparent endorsement of
that conceit by Plotinus, quoted above, was merely a
simile. Porphyry, Jamblichus, and Hierocles forcibly
emphasized this distinction. Wilkinson shows that the
initiated priests taught that “dissolution is only the
cause of reproduction. Nothing perishes which has
once existed. Things which appear to be destroyed
only change their natures and pass into another form.”
But Ebers demonstrates that the inner circle of the
temple held this truth in a form wholly above the system
of embalming, animal worship, and transmigration
ingeniously devised by them for the people. Like the
ruling priestcraft in all times and countries, they considered
it necessary to disguise their sacred secrets for
the crowd. The symbols of reincarnation which everywhere
have typified the same doctrine,—in Egyptian
architecture by the flying globe, in Chinese pagodas
and Indian temples by the intricate unfoldments of germinant
designs ascending through successive stories to
culminate in a gilded ball, in the Grecian friezes of religious
processions, in the Druidical cromlechs and cairns
of Wales and the circular stone heaps of Britain,—all
expressed a threefold significance, telling the masses
of their transition through all living conditions, reminding
the common priesthood of an exalted series
of transformations, and picturing for the initiates the
hidden principles of immortal progress. For all alike
283these emblems reiterated, the solemn and vital reality
of universal brotherhood throughout Nature; but the
keenest students, who guided the bulk of religious
thought, read in them simply the eternal law of cause
and effect divinely ruling the soul through incessant
changes. It would be as unjust to construe literally
the poetic statements of the human soul wandering
through animals, etc., by which metaphor the noblest
leaders of western thought convey the idea of spiritual
evolution (see chapter v.), as to call this lowest
phase of the philosophy the real belief of those who
shaped it.
And yet there is a sense in which the most intelligent
orientals adhere to this, and in which western
science endorses it,—namely in the axiomatic truth
that human atoms and emanations traverse the entire
round of lower natures. When the Laws of Manu
speak of the transmigration of men through all animal
stages, these eastern authorities say that they mean
not souls, but men’s physical selves. When the Laws
assert that “a Brahman killer enters the body of a
dog, bear, ass, etc.,” they do not mean that the murderer
of a priest becomes a dog, bear, ass, etc. The
inner meaning of the Law is that he who kills and
extinguishes the Brahman or divine nature, condemns
his soul to lower human circumstances, and the downward
affinity of his passions carries every particle of
his body by magnetic relations into more degraded
ranks of existence. The Brahmans have distorted the
inward purpose of this Law in their own interest by
insisting upon its outward meaning. So the various
accounts of the descent of human into animal or vegetative
nature, whether given by Hindu, Pythagorean,
Platonist, Egyptian, Norse, or Barbarian, are actual
284facts as far as the migration of the composing atoms
and emanations of the outer individual are concerned.
For these atoms obey the directing impulses of degrading
passion or ascending principle. The imponderable
force of these atomic changes is proven by the psychometric
evidence of sensitives, who perceive the various
unexpressed moods of a person by the kinds of lambent
particles flowing from him, and trace the permanent
course of these particles after they have lodged
on objects widely separated from him. The tell-tale
characteristics of these scattered atoms remain a long
while as stamped by their source, and guide them to
what is most congenial. This scientific fact, confirmed
by many experiments,[52] but generally ignored, shaped
the old atomic hypotheses in which Pythagoras, Epicurus,
Zeno, and all the old philosophers down to Plato
found delight, and Plato himself simply spiritualized
it into a more enduring form.
The attitude of the dominant disciples of reincarnation
upon this point may be gathered from the following
statement of a Brahman to the writer: “The
whole question of re-births rests upon the right understanding
of what it is that is born again. Obviously
not the body, nor is it the ego, which is the same
whether in a man or in a worm. The ego is colorless
of all attributes of which we have any knowledge in
practice. The only thing that can be said to be re-born
is the character of a being, through spiritual
blindness confounded with the ego, in the same way
as light is commonly confounded with the objects illuminated
and said to be red, blue, or any other color.
The essential characteristic of humanity cannot possibly
285exist in an animal form, for otherwise it cannot
be essential to humanity. Whenever in a human
being the ego is identified in the above manner with
what is essentially human, birth in an animal form is
as certain as any relative truth can be not to take
place.”
“Atoms enter into organic combinations according
to their affinities, and when released from one individual
system they retain a tendency to be attracted
by other systems, not necessarily human, with similar
characteristics. The assimilation of atoms by organisms
takes place in accordance with the law of affinities.
It may be hastily contended that the relation
between the mental characteristics of an individual
and the atoms of his body ceases when the atoms no
longer constitute the body. But the fact that certain
atoms are drawn into a man’s body shows that there
was some affinity between the atoms and the body before
they were so drawn together. Consequently
there is no reason to suppose that the affinity ceases
at parting. And it is well known that psychometers
can detect the antecedent life history of any substance
by being brought into contact with it. It must be insisted
that the true human ego in no sense migrates
from a human body to an animal body, although those
principles which lie below the plane of self-consciousness
may do so. And in this sense alone is transmigration
accepted by Esoteric Science.”
XIII. WHAT THEN OF DEATH, HEAVEN, AND HELL?
287
288When we die, we shall find that we have not lost our dreams; but
that we have only lost our sleep.—Richter.
Life is a kind of sleep. Old men sleep longest. They never begin
to wake but when they are to die.—De La Bruyere.
There is no death: what seems so is transition.
This life of mortal breath
Is but a suburb of the life Elysian,
Whose portal we call Death.
Longfellow.
We can hardly do otherwise than assume that the future being must
be so involved in our present constitution as to be therein discernible.
Isaac Taylor.
When I leave this rabble rout and defilement of the world, I leave
it as an inn, and not as a place of abode. For nature has given us
our bodies as an inn, and not to dwell in.—Cato.
He that soweth to the flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption; but
he that soweth to the spirit shall of the spirit reap life everlasting.
St. Paul.
But all lost things are in the angels’ keeping, Love.
No past is dead for us, but only sleeping, Love.
The years of heaven will all earth’s little pain make good.
Together there we can begin again in babyhood.
Helen Hunt.
Death is another life. We bow our heads
At going out, we think, and enter straight
Another chamber of the king’s,
Larger than this we leave and lovelier.
Bailey.
The deep conviction of the indestructibleness of our nature through
death, which everyone carries at the bottom of his heart, depends altogether
upon the consciousness of the original and eternal nature of our
being.—Schopenhauer.
289
XIII.
WHAT THEN OF DEATH, HEAVEN, AND HELL?
The latest developments of science agree with the
occultists and poets that there is no death, and that
nothing is dead. What seems to be extinction is only
a change of existence. What appears to have no vitality
has only a lower order of the life principle. Everything
is pulsing with energy, stones and dirt as well
as animals and trees. The same force which animates
the human body, the beasts, birds, and reptiles in
their brief periods, also vitalizes the oaks and vines in
a smaller degree with longer lives, and individualizes
the mineral world into crystals on a still lower plane
but with lifetimes reckoned by thousands of years.
And below crystal-life, in the constituent atoms of
shapeless matter, is a tremendous thrill of undiminished
activity. Life, the occultists say, is the eternal
uncreated energy. The physicists grasp at the same
thing in their Law of Continuity, and modern science
concedes that “energy has as much claim to be regarded
as an objective reality as matter itself.”[53]
This life is the one essential energy acting under
protean forms. It always inheres in every particle of
matter, and makes no distinction between organic and
inorganic, except one of grade, the former containing
290life-energy actively and the latter in dormant form.
Because the scientist is unable to awaken into activity
the latent life of inorganic matter, he insists, by
the law of biogenesis, that life can only come from
life. But that only marks the limit of his knowledge.
The world’s development has bridged all the
gaps now yawning between the different kingdoms
of nature, though nothing remains now to show how
it was done, and science has to confess its ignorance.
There is nothing to contradict and much to enforce
the occult axiom that the same life animates man,
plant, and rock simply in different states of the one
indestructible force,—the Universal Soul,—making
all nature what Goethe terms “the living visible garment
of God.”
It is impossible for a person to cease to exist. When
the tenant of the body moves out, the forces binding
together the dwelling scatter to the nearest uses
awaiting them. The positivists would have it that
the individual soul also dissolves into an impersonal
fund of being—a sort of immediate chilling Nirvana,
out-freezing any eastern conception of remotest destiny.
This melancholy result of western materialism
is boldly confronted by reincarnation with a proven
hypothesis, which illuminates the mystery of death
and the future, and shows the unimpeachable reality
of immortality. Reincarnation demonstrates that the
personal ego, which permanently maintains its identity
amid the constant changes of the bodily casement and
the mental consciousness, must continue its individuality.
In addition to the evidences already adduced
for the genuineness of this truth, there stands the honest
reliable testimony of spiritualism (a small core of
veritable fact around which is gathered an enormous
291concretion of deceptions, mischievously intentional or
pathetically unconscious), and the actual experience
of some orientals whose intense devotion to pure invisible
realities has pushed them into the perception of
ultra-mortal things.
It is the strong attachment to physical existence
which makes death the king of terrors. Those who
have learned the lesson of life find him the blessed angel
who ushers them through the golden gates. There
shall at length come to every ascending soul the experience
of those whose departure from this life cannot be
called death, as Jesus, Elijah, or Enoch, who “walked
with God and he was not, for God took him.” They
became so buoyed with spiritual forces that a slight
touch shifted the equipoise and translated them into
the invisible. The clarified spirit greets death with
a welcome, and sings his praise as did Paul Hamilton
Hayne in his dying song:—
Sad mortal! couldst thou but know
What truly it means to die,
The wings of thy soul would glow,
And the hopes of thy heart beat high;
Thou wouldst turn from the Pyrrhonist schools,
And laugh their jargon to scorn,
As the babbling of midnight fools
Ere the morning of Truth be born:
But I, earth’s madness above,
In a kingdom of stormless breath,—
I gaze on the glory of love
In the unveiled face of Death.
I tell thee his face is fair
As the moon-bow’s amber rings,
And the gleam in his unbound hair
Like the flash of a thousand springs;
His smile is the fathomless beam
Of the star-shine’s sacred light,
292When the summers of Southland dream
In the lap of the holy Night:
For I, earth’s blindness above,
In a kingdom of halcyon breath,—
I gaze on the marvel of love
In the unveiled face of Death.
When death severs the soul from its mortal shell,
the ruling tendencies of the soul carry it to its strongest
affinities. If these still dwell on earth, the soul
hovers affectionately among the old scenes and insensibly
mingles with its heart-friends, ministering and
being ministered to, with no essential difference from
the former condition.[54] Many veritable experiences,
apart from all possibility of delusion, confirm this,
although the darkness of matter blinds most of us to
the psychic life. At length, as shifting time unties
the bonds of earth, the soul moves on with its strongest
allies to the realms of its choice. There the soul lives
out an era of its true life, an expression of its deepest
nature, as much more full and more real than the late
physical life, as the waking state exceeds the dreaming.
For the escape from material confinement allows
the freest activity, in which the dominant desires,
unconsciously nourished in the spirit, have the mastery.
This liberty rouses the spirit from the earthly
lethargy into its permanent individuality. The startling
bound of the spirit into its own sphere must transfer
the self-consciousness from its terrestrial form to a
far higher vividness; but, as the wakefulness of day
includes the somnambulence of night and knows itself
superior to that dumb life, so the burst of unconstrained
spiritual existence does not annul, but transcends
the material phase.
293The condition of the period intervening between
death and birth, like all other epochs, is framed by
the individual. The inner character makes a Paradise,
a Purgatory, or an Inferno of any place. As Jesus
said he was in heaven while talking with his followers,
as Dante found all the material for hell in what his
eyes witnessed, so in the environments beyond death,
where the subjective states of the soul are supreme,
the appearance of the universe and the feelings of
self are created, well or ill, by the central individual.
There must be as many heavens and hells as there are
good and bad beings. All the attempts to describe
the future are inadequate and erroneous, and must
necessarily be so. Plato, in the last book of the Republic,
quotes the narrative of the Pamphylian Er,
who had been killed in battle but came to life again
on his funeral pyre, and declared that he was returned
to earth to disclose the nature of the coming
life. He found things about as Plato’s allegory pictures
them: the good and the wicked who had just
died being assigned their places in heaven or under
the earth. A number of souls whose thousand years
of one or the other experience had expired were made
to cast lots for a choice out of a large number of human
and animal lives, and to drink of the River of
Indifference, and to traverse the Plain of Forgetfulness
before entering the world again. As with all
the visions of after death, this simply reflected the
opinions of the Platonic thinker. St. John’s Revelation
paints the scene by colors obtained from his
Jewish training, on the canvas of his Patmos imprisonment.
Bunyan’s description shows a simple imagination
saturated with the Apocalypse. Protestant
visionaries always discover a Protestant heaven and
294hell. Catholic ecstatics always add purgatory.
Swedenborg found the gardens of heaven laid out in
the Dutch fashion of his time. English clairvoyants
and mediums are properly orthodox and evangelical.
American spirits talk broad theology with ridiculous
details. The divergence in all these alleged liftings
of the veil betrays their subjectiveness.
It is impossible in the nature of things that one
should permanently leave the physical condition until
the business of that existence is accomplished in transferring
the affections from material to spiritual things.
While the ruling attraction to a soul remains in this
world, all the forces of the universe conspire to continue
the association of the two in repeated lives. On
the other hand, a person dominated by spiritual proclivities
finds infinite magnetisms drawing him away
from temporal surroundings to the inscrutable glories
of the eternal. In Swedenborg’s phrase, “a man’s
loves make his home.” The residual impulses coming
from the momentums of past lives determine what
and when shall be the next embodiment. The time
and manner of reincarnation vary with each individual
according to the impetus engendered by his
lives. Between these lives the spiritual effect of the
earth life is absorbed from the personal soul manifested
on earth into the immortal and unmanifested
ego. This process may require days, years, centuries,
or millenniums, depending upon the intensity of the
mundane aspirations which draw the spirit to earth
and hinder its liberation into pure spiritual life. But
as in dreams a whole life’s history is sometimes
condensed into a few seconds, time has no existence to
the disembodied spirit. Whether the interval be long
or short, the entire spiritual effect of the last life must
295be assimilated and shaped into a form that will spring
up in coming lives. The instances of alternate consciousness
indicate that some such marked difference
from the previous incarnation appears in each earthly
life, losing all remembrance of the previous chapter,
and working out the tendencies which embodied that
particular life in a career that will achieve redemption
or condemnation.
At the first thought reincarnation carries the unwelcome
inference that death and re-births separate
us from the dearest present ties and introduce us as
strangers into new phases of activity where everything—friends,
knowledge, and occupations—must
be found afresh. This is a mistake. The unnoticed
habits of thought and action derived from the alliance
of cherished comrades strengthen into ungovernable
steeds whose course directs the soul on every journey
toward those favorite companions. Among the thousands
of acquaintances made in a lifetime, the rare
friends whose intimacy strikes down into the inmost
depths of the soul must continue as irresistible attractions
in the next life. Orpheus could not fail to discover
Eurydice in the spirit realm. In this earthly
existence, which is the Heaven, or Purgatory, or Hell
of the last one, we go straying among unfamiliar
forms, frequently mistaking them for true friends, until
suddenly we meet a soul with which there comes so
intense and permanent an affection that every other
person is forgotten. Such a fusion of spirits must
hail from the shores of long distant loves, and its new
unrecognized mastery develops a mightier union than
would be possible in one uninterrupted flow. The
poets like to symbolize this as the blending of two
hemispheres long since separated into their original
296perfect whole. The most probable explanation of such
intimacies rests in the idea that they are repetitions of
previous attachments. A sense of ancient familiarity
grows upon these closest ties, notwithstanding the absence
of memory’s confirmation. The powerful attractions
residing in families and kinships may well be the
result of ancestral affinities which have bound together
in many earlier combinations, like a turning kaleidoscope,
the same individuals.
XIV. KARMA, THE COMPANION TRUTH OF REINCARNATION.
297
298We are our own children.—Pythagoras.
Nothing can work me damage but myself.—St. Bernard.
Our acts our angels are, or good or ill
Our fatal shadows that walk with us still.
Beaumont & Fletcher.
The kingdom of heaven is within you.—Jesus.
We make our fortunes and we call them fate.—B. Disraeli.
Men must reap the things they sow.
Force from force must ever flow.
Shelley.
The soul contains in itself the event that shall presently befall it, or
the event is only the actualizing of its thoughts.—Emerson.
Seldom went such grotesqueness with such pain;
I never saw a brute I hated so.
He must be wicked to deserve such pain.
Browning.
Not from birth does one become a slave; not from birth does one
become a saint; but by conduct alone.—Gautama.
We sleep, but the loom of life never stops; and the pattern which
was weaving when the sun went down is weaving when it comes up
to-morrow.—Beecher.
Then spake he of that answer all must give
For all things done amiss or wrongfully,
Alone, each for himself, reckoning with that
The fixed arithmetic of the universe,
Which meteth good for good, ill for ill,
Measure for measure unto deeds, words, thoughts,
Making all futures fruits of all the pasts.
The Light of Asia.
299
XIV.
KARMA, THE COMPANION TRUTH OF REINCARNATION.
Karma is the eastern word for what the West
knows as the Law of Causation, applied to personal
experience. In Christendom the full recognition of
this great principle, like that of its mate, reincarnation,
lies dormant; but it is merely an extension into
the spiritual domain of the fundamental premise of all
science, the substratum of common sense, the cardinal
axiom of every philosophy,—that each effect has an
adequate cause, and each cause works infinite consequences.
Briefly, the doctrine of karma is that we
have made ourselves what we are by former actions,
and are building our future eternity by present actions.
There is no destiny but what we ourselves
determine. There is no salvation or condemnation
except what we ourselves bring about. God places
all the powers of the universe at our disposal, and the
handle by which we use them to construct our fate has
been and is and always shall be our own individual
will. Action (karma) of the spirit, whether in the
inner consciousness alone, or by vocal expression, or
in outward act, is the secret force which directs our
journeys through infinity, driving us down into the
gloomy regions of evil, of matter, and of selfishness, or
up toward the luminous fields of good, of spirit, and of
love.
300The most adamantine of facts is that of an infinite
all-comprehending power of which nature is the pulsing
body, an eternal reality shaping the shadowy appearances
of time, and variously named Force, Fate,
Justice, Righteousness, Love, Mind, The Over-Soul,
God. The most essential attribute of this unfathomable
Being is that of Almighty Equity. Confronting
this fact is the puzzling fact of our spiritual personality
enveloped in matter. The thought always associated
with this, never practically forsaken, though
sometimes theoretically denied, is individual responsibility.
“Two things fill me with wonder,” said Kant,
“the starry heavens and the sense of moral responsibility
in man.” When Daniel Webster was asked
what was the greatest thought that ever stirred his
soul, he replied, “The thought of my personal accountability
to God.” Every balanced mind agrees with
these intellectual giants on this point. The inevitable
outcome of grouping these two actualities (God and
responsibility) is the conception that the Universal
Sustainer is giving every creature the best thing for it,
and that each soul is in some way accountable for its
condition. Single observations seem to contradict this
idea, but the long trend of life’s experience verifies it.
Because it offers no shelter for culpable actions and
necessitates a sterling manliness, it is less welcome to
weak natures than the easy religious tenets of vicarious
atonement, intercession, forgiveness, and death-bed
conversions. But it rings through the inner soul-world
as the fundamental harmonic tone, setting the key for
all wholesome poetry, philosophy, religion, and art, and
inspiring the magnificent sweep of progress which is
rationalizing modern Christendom. For it is identical
with the essence of Bible truth, as these representative
sentences will suggest:—
301“Keep thy heart with all diligence, for out of it are
the issues of life.” (Solomon.)
“Sin no more, lest a worse thing come upon thee.”
(Jesus.)
“Work out your own salvation. Whatsoever a
man soweth, that shall he also reap.” (St. Paul.)
The embryos of all animals are at the earliest stage
indistinguishable from one another. The biologist
who has lost his labels cannot tell which would become
a fish, which a cat, and which a man; but nature
knows the past records and therefore the future
possibility of each. So within souls apparently similar
there hide unsuspected germs of vast difference,
resulting from the forgotten pasts, which may develop
into corresponding divergent futures. The ancient
behaviors of every soul have accumulated a grand heritage
of influences from which our present bequest is
derived. Using another figure, as each piece of “new”
soil contains through all its depth a multitude of various
seeds sown in past ages, which patiently bide
their time to be brought to light and bear fruit, so the
kernels of remote conducts shall eventually all have
their unfoldment in the revolution of our lives, until
at last, if we refuse weeds and harbor only worthy
germs, we shall bear a continual harvest of good.
The “bonds of action” include the whole range of
material for character,—not only the recognized habits
of the soul, but, of more consequence still, the unconscious
inner thought whence the outward manifestations
spring. Whatever impulses are secretly cherished,
these feed the acts of life, and mould all our
environments to fit them. The nurtured thought of
killing produces a thousand unseen murders and must
continue wreaking crimes in immensely larger degree
302than hangable horrors. Our favorite inclinations
show what we have been doing in ancient ages.
Within the germ of to-day’s conduct are coiled interminable
consequences of good and evil.
The relentless hand which metes out our fortunes
with the stern justice most vividly portrayed by the
Greek dramatists in their Nemesis, Fates, and Furies,
takes from our own savings the gifts bestowed on us.
“Alas! we sow what we reap; the hand that smites us
is our own.” In the domain of eternal justice, the
offense and the punishment are inseparably connected
as the same event, because there is no real distinction
between the action and its outcome. He who injures
another in fact only wrongs himself. To adopt
Schopenhauer’s figure, he is a wild beast who fastens
his fangs in his own flesh. But linked with the awful
fact of our undivided responsibility for what we now
are, goes the inspiring assurance that we have in our
control the remedy of evil and the increase of good.
We can, and we alone can, extricate ourselves from
the existing limitations, by the all-curing powers of
purity, love, spirituality. In eastern phraseology, the
purpose of life is to work out our bad karma (action)
and to stow away good karma. As surely as the harvest
of to-day grows from the seed-time of yesterday,
so shall every kernel of thought and feeling, speech
and performance, bring its crop of reward or rebuke.
The inherent result of every quiver of the human will
continually tolls the Day of Judgment, and affords
immeasurable opportunities for amelioration.
The worthy soul straitened with misfortune is
shifting off the chains of old wrong-doing. The
vicious soul enjoying comforts is reaping the benefits
of old virtues. So intricately are all situations connected
303with untraceable lineages that only the Omniscient
can penetrate below appearances in the real
natures of men. The world is like a garden in which
is newly planted a huge assortment of unknown plants.
To the common observer the fresh sprouts are only
deceptive, for the most promising stalk may prove to
be a weak, fragile thing, and the uninviting leaflets
may introduce a sturdy growth. But the all-wise
Gardener knows each seed, and that it will ultimately
show its ancestry. The stupendous issues of conduct
endure through all changes. After one has climbed to
high summits of character the surprising reappearance
of some forgotten sin may stay his progress and require
all his forces to conquer the viper whose egg he
long ago nested in his bosom. The man plunged into
the abyss of degradation may be a saint much farther
advanced than those exalted persons who despise him.
It is karma, or our old acts, that draws us back into
earthly life. The spirit’s abode changes according to
its karma, and this karma forbids any long continuance
in one condition, because it is always changing.
So long as action is governed by material and selfish
motives, just so long must the effect of that action be
manifested in physical re-births. Only the perfectly
selfless man can elude the gravitation of material life.
Few have attained this; but it is the goal of mankind.
Some have reached it and have voluntarily returned as
saviors of the race.
An illustrious explanation of karma appears at the
close of “The Light of Asia”:
305The false tongue dooms its lie; the creeping thief
And spoiler rob, to render.
Such is the law which moves to righteousness,
Which none at last can turn aside or stay;
The heart of it is love, the end of it
Is peace and consummation sweet. Obey!
· · · · ·
The books say well, my brothers! each man’s life
The outcome of his former living is;
The bygone wrongs bring forth sorrows and woes,
The bygone right breeds bliss.
That which ye sow ye reap. See yonder fields!
The sesamum was sesamum, the corn
Was corn. The silence and the darkness knew;
So is a man’s fate born.
He cometh, reaper of the things he sowed,
Sesamum, corn, so much cast in past birth;
And so much weed and poison-stuff, which mar
Him and the aching earth.
If he shall labor rightly, rooting these,
And planting wholesome seedlings where they grew,
Fruitful and fair and clean the ground shall be,
And rich the harvest due.
If he who liveth, learning whence woe springs,
Endureth patiently, striving to pay
His utmost debt for ancient evils done
In love and truth alway;
If making none to lack, he throughly purge
The lie and lust of self forth from his blood;
Suffering all meekly, rendering for offence
Nothing but grace and good:
306If he shall day by day dwell merciful,
Holy and just and kind and true; and rend
Desire from where it clings with bleeding roots,
Till love of life have end:
He—dying—leaveth as the sum of him
A life-count closed, whose ills are dead and quit,
Whose good is quick and mighty, far and near,
So that fruits follow it.
No need hath such to live as ye name life;
That which began in him when he began
Is finished: he hath wrought the purpose through
Of what did make him man.
Never shall yearnings torture him, nor sins
Stain him, nor ache of earthly joys and woes
Invade his safe eternal peace; nor deaths
And lives recur. He goes
Unto Nirvâna. He is one with Life
Yet lives not. He is blest, ceasing to be.
Om, mani padme, om! the dewdrop slips
Into the shining sea!
· · · · ·
This is the doctrine of the Karma. Learn!
Only when all the dross of sin is quit,
Only when life dies like a white flame spent,
Death dies along with it.
XV. CONCLUSION.
307
308The glories of the Possible are ours.—Bayard Taylor.
The majesty and beauty of the world are latent in any iota of the
world.—Walt Whitman.
There is no life of a man, but is a heroic poem of its sort, rhymed
or unrhymed.—Would’st thou plant for eternity: then plant into the
deep infinite faculties of man.—Carlyle.
Life is a mission. Every other definition of life is false, and leads
all who accept it astray. Religion, Science, Philosophy, though still
at variance upon many points, all agree in this, that every existence is
an aim.—Mazzini.
A sacred burden is this life ye bear.
Look on it, lift it, bear it solemnly;
Stand up and walk beneath it steadfastly;
Fail not for sorrow, falter not for sin;
But onward, upward, till the goal ye win.
Frances A. Kemble.
Know that this world is one stage of eternity. For those who are
journeying in the right way, it is the road of religion. It is a market
opened in the wilderness where those who are travelling on their way
to God may collect and prepare provisions for their journey.
Al Gazzali.
Life is but a means unto an end—that end,
Beginning, mean, and end of all things—God.
We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths;
In feelings, not in figures on a dial.
We should count time by heart throbs. He most lives
Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.
Bailey.
309
XV.
CONCLUSION.
We are lotus-eaters, so engrossed with the ignoble
attractions around us as to have forgotten the places
through which we have long strayed away from home,
and to heed not the necessity of many more perilous
journeys before we can reach our glorious destination.
It is only by rousing ourselves to the important fact
of the past pilgrimage by which we have traveled
hither, and to the still more vital reality of the incalculable
sequences of our present route, that we can attain
the best progress. Our repugnance to the idea
of a cycle of lives, with myriad meanderings through
varied forms, is the cry of Tennyson’s Lotus-Eaters:
While all things else have rest from weariness,
All things have rest, why should we toil alone?
· · · · ·
Nor ever fold our wings
And cease our wanderings.
Why should we only toil, the roof and crown of things?
This is virtually the longing for Nirvâna, and the
cause of the irrational belief in an eternal Heaven
immediately following this life. But it is neither
wise nor religious to ignore the necessity of continuing
our ascent at the present pace, until we have journeyed
all the way to that distant goal. The restlessness
of our nature comes from the established habit
310of straying about in temporal realms, and has developed
a love of adventure in which the occidental
world finds profounder delight than in the oriental
yearning for inactivity, and which shall have abundant
exercise before it disappears. The only path to
that perfect satisfaction which is found in complete
oneness with the Supreme winds through the ascending
planes of material embodiment.
In which one of its various guises we shall receive
reincarnation depends upon the individual. Whether
it shall be in the crude form of transmigration through
animals as received by most of the world; or in the
Persian and Sufi faith as the unjust banishment from
our proper home by the powers of evil; or, following
Egypt, Pythagoras, Plato, Origen, and the Druids, as
a purgatorial punishment for pre-natal sins; or, in the
form of some Christian teaching, as a probationary
stage testing our right to higher existence and ushering
us into a permanent spiritual condition; or, as
maintained alike by the acutest Eastern philosophy
311and the soundest Western thought, as a wholesome
development of germinal soul-forces;—through all
these phrasings the same central truth abides, furnishing
what Henry More called “the golden key” for
the problem of life, and explaining the plot of this
“drama whose prologue and catastrophe are both
alike wanting.” But the broadest intelligence leads
us directly into the evolutionary aspect of reincarnation,
and finds the others inadequate to the full measure
of human nature. In this view the present life
is one grade of a stupendous school, in which we are
being educated for a destiny so far beyond our comprehension
that some call it a kind of deity. The experiences
through which we have come were needful
for our strengthening. Even though we have descended
below former altitudes, the only path to the
absolute lies through the sensuous earthly vale. Sin
itself, after we have escaped it, will lead to a mightier
result than would be possible without it, or it would
not be permitted. The richest trees of all the forest
world spring from the unclean miasmic fens. The
severest present disciplines, coming from our earlier
errors, are training us for a loftier growth than we
ever knew. Our physical schooling, through all the
grades necessary to our best unfoldment, will build a
character as much sublimer than our primitive condition
as virtue overtowers innocence, and when the race
finally emerges from the jangling turmoil of self-will
into complete harmony with the Perfect One, as it
must at last, the multitudes of our lives will not seem
too enormous a course of experience for the establishment
of that consummation. The victorious march
of Evolution through all the provinces of thought will
at length be followed by the triumphal procession of
Reincarnation.
The Father’s purpose with us seems to be to educate
us as His children so that we shall be in complete
sympathy with the divine mind. The only method
of accomplishing this glorious result is for us to enter
with Him into all the phases of His being. Our long
series of physical lives will finally give us a thorough
knowledge of the grosser nature with which He cloaks
Himself. We penetrate the animal existence in human
form more successfully than would be possible if
we transmigrated into all the species of zoölogy; for
here we carry sufficient intelligence, along with the
material condition, to comprehend these creatures
around us which cannot understand themselves. We
cannot expect to permanently leave this department
of God’s house until we have essentially grasped the
secret of all earthly life. The highest individuals of
mankind, the saviors of the race, the true prophets
and poets, attain this intimate communion with nature,
this mastery over the lower creation, which demonstrates
their fitness for introduction to a higher stage.
It is difficult to account for the great geniuses except
by the consideration that they are the result of
many noble lives. Emerson arrives at this conclusion
in his essay on Swedenborg. “In common parlance,
what one man is said to learn by experience, a man
313of extraordinary sagacity is said, without experience,
to divine. The Arabians say that Abul Khain, the
mystic, and Abu Ali Scena, the philosopher, conferred
together; and on parting the philosopher said, ‘All
that he sees, I know;’ and the mystic said, ‘All that
he knows, I see.’ If one should ask the reason of this
intuition, the solution would lead us into that property
which Plato denoted as reminiscence, and which is
implied by the Brahmans in the tenet of transmigration.
The soul having been often born, or, as the
Hindoos say, ‘traveling the path of existence through
thousands of births,’ having beheld the things which
are here, those which are in heaven, and those which
are beneath, there is nothing of which she has not
gained the knowledge: no wonder that she is able to
recollect, in regard to one thing, what formerly she
knew. For all things in nature being linked and related,
and the soul having heretofore known all, nothing
hinders but that any man who has recalled to
mind, or, according to the common phrase, has learned
one thing only, should of himself recover all his ancient
knowledge, and find out again all the rest, if he
have but courage, and faint not in the midst of his
researches. For inquiry and learning is reminiscence
all. How much more, if he that inquires be a holy,
godlike soul! For by being assimilated to the original
soul, by whom, and after whom, all things subsist,
the soul of man does then easily flow into all things,
and all things flow into it: they mix; and he is present
and sympathetic with their structure and law.”
A recent instance of the glaring facts inexplicable
by any other theory than reincarnation appears in the
little musical prodigy Josef Hofmann, whose phenomenal
genius holds complete mastery of the piano, and
314charms vast audiences with his exquisite rendering of
most difficult concertos, and particularly with his
marvelous improvisations upon themes suggested at a
moment’s notice. He presents the uncanny phenomenon
of a child of ten who has little more to learn in
the most difficult of arts. The natural explanation
occurring to any candid mind is thus suggested by
the Boston Herald in its report of a Hofmann concert:
“It almost seems as if the spirit of some great
composer had been put into this boy by nature, waiting
to be developed in accordance with our modern
art to shine forth again in all its glory in his work.”
What if he actually were the reappearance of Mozart
hastening to fill out the life that was cut sadly short?
There may be means of verifying such a presumption
by the character of his later compositions, when he
gets the full expression of his natural bent. An art
so independent of time and place, as music, might
fairly be traced through two historic individuals,
when literature and painting would not permit it. At
any rate it is significant that the young prodigies in
any particular kind of skill do not come until that
skill has been well established on the earth. Guido
followed generations of great painters, Pascal was
preceded by a long course of mathematicians. Pope
“lisped in numbers” after a vast procession of poets.
And Mozart waited until the new era of musical harmony
had been well inaugurated. The colossal characters
who stand out from the race, with no predecessors
equal to them, like Homer, Plato, Jesus, Raphael,
Shakespeare, Beethoven, all reach their maturity later
than other prodigies, after infancy and youth have
fastened the Lethean gates upon the prehistoric
scenes from which they seem to hail. But the unfathomable
315vagaries of the soul, as it works out successively
its dominant impulses, easily disguise the
individual in different personalities, so long as the
physical realm is most attractive to it. Yet it is noticeable
that the great minds of history come together
in galaxies, when the fullness of time for their capacities
draws them together. Witness the Sanskrit
sages, the Greek poets and philosophers, the Augustan
writers and generals, the Italian artists of the Renaissance,
the German masters of music, the Elizabethan
authors, the nineteenth-century scientists. The traits
of the commonest child, however, as much as the
miracles of a genius, have no satisfactory explanation
outside of the philosophy of re-births.
Evolution of the physical nature and of material
strength attaches our future to body and matter. But
the attachment hastens toward a release by at length
proving these to be low steps in the ascent of life. As
in the geological programme of animal development
each era carried its type to gigantic dimensions and
then was surmounted by a higher order of creatures,
which in turn grew monstrous as tyrants of their age
and then succumbed to a still higher rank: so the
soul’s progress from the earthly domain lies through
the mastery of physical things to mental, thence to
psychic, and at last to spiritual. And the passion for
material achievement animating our side of the planet
should not be underestimated, since it governs an important
epoch in the world’s growth. But the danger
lies in esteeming it a finality. It is chiefly valuable
as the foundation upon which we may build skyward,
in an evolution of character. When the structure
is made high enough, the buoyancy of the upper
stories will conquer the weight of the base and float
316away our abode to ethereal climes. Only the education
of the spiritual in us, of sacrifice, nobility, and
divinity, can divorce us from these uneasy earthly affinities
to the permanent rest of union with God.
While we must not abandon the glories of physical
beauty, power and pleasure, we must not forget that
the true business of life is to wean our affections from
the visible to the invisible, to transfer the preponderance
of our magnetisms from shadows to substances.
For we bridge the two kingdoms of matter and spirit,
and we have the choice between them more freely
than we know.
The mechanical transmigration which was fancifully
told in Grecian mythology, gathered and beautifully
rendered by Ovid, which was taught in the Egyptian
and Pythagorean dogmas and still floats broadcast
throughout the vast realms of Brahmanism, Buddhism,
and barbarism, which fascinates the thought of our
poets, and which is daily enacted by a myriad object-lessons
in nature, is merely the objective expression of
a subjective truth, discerned by all the mystics, seers,
and philosophers, and most elaborately stated by Swedenborg.
It means that the infinite progress of the
soul conveys it through countless epochs, moving in perfect
succession by the dynamic laws of its own being.
During this development, the universe arranges itself
peculiarly to each individual according to his thought
and character. We shape the outer world by our
inner nature, and we say just how long our stay shall
be among dust and mortality.
The true and wholesome aspect of the earthly life,
under the religious philosophy of reincarnation, transforms
the spectacle from a trivial show, or a gloomy
arena of despair, to a majestic stage in the ascending
317series of human sojournings on the way to the Absolute.
In the words of the old martyr-philosopher
Giordano Bruno, the father of Descartes, Spinoza, and
Leibnitz, the cherisher of that thought, “being present
in the body, is yet, as by an indissoluble oath, bound
and united to divine things, so that he is not sensible
either of love or hatred for mortal things, knowing he
is greater than these, and that he must not be the slave
of his body, which is to be regarded as no other than
the prison of his liberty, a snare for his wings, a chain
upon his limbs, and a veil impeding his sight.” His
life flows beauteously in aspiration for the invisible
kingdom of permanence, as this same Bruno, the Nolan,
phrased it in verse:—
While that the sun upon his round doth burn
And to their source the roving planets flee,
Things of the earth do to the earth return
And parted waters hasten to the sea:
So shall my spirit to the high gods turn
And heaven-born thought to Heaven shall carry me.
Instead of being a cold pagan philosophy as it is
frequently considered, reincarnation throbs with the
most vital spirit of Christianity. It is no more Buddhism,
than kindliness is Christianity. It is the hidden
core of the gospel of Jesus as of all other great
religions and philosophies. This is what has preserved
them in spite of their degrading excrescences.
It is “the religion of all sensible men” who refuse the
weak sentiment and bigoted dogmas that obscure the
light of Christianity in the churches: for it clearly
unfolds what they unconsciously believe, in the laws
of cause and effect. It spurns the despairing doctrine
of total depravity, but shows the cause of partial depravity.
It teaches salvation as Jesus did, not by
318heaping our sins upon him, but by recognizing the
Fatherhood of the Supreme, entering the new birth
into spiritual life, and watchfully growing Godward.
It revolts against the thought of everlasting punishment
for brief errors, but provides infinite opportunities
for restoration and advancement, while emphasizing
most vigorously the unescapable results of
all action. It is therefore a corrective of modern
Christianity holding fast to the strength and beauty
of what the Nazarene taught and lived, but including
those very principles which breed religious skepticism
in the extreme advocates of science and evolution.
It enlarges Christianity to a grander capacity than it
has hitherto known, and so furnishes at once an inspiring
religion for the loftiest spiritual aspiration, a
most satisfactory philosophy for the intellect, and the
strongest basis for practical nobility of conduct.
There is no reason why reincarnation and Christianity
should not grasp hands and magnificently advance
together, each keeping the other steadfastly true.
Only in this union can Christianity escape its present
downward sag. Since western religion fails to
spiritually sustain us and has largely gone over to the
enemy,—materialism, it is time for another oriental
tide to sweep over the West. Having already a partial
possession here, reincarnation promises to flow in
freely to revitalize Christianity, to spiritualize science.
As Christianity has degenerated in the West, so has
reincarnation in the East, and the hope of the race
lies in an exalted marriage of them. They need each
other, as husband and wife, allied in purest devotion,
supplementing the defects and strengths of each other,
and regenerating their lower unassociated tendencies.
The religion of Jesus tends to sink into an irrational
319sentimentality which is commonly relegated to women
and effeminate men. The spiritual philosophy of
India declines into passionless fatalism or an ungenerous
self-absorption. Superstition darkens both
alike. But reincarnation keeps Christianity thoroughly
rational, and Christianity will sustain reincarnation
in vigorous unselfishness. This alliance of the
best truths of both hemispheres will teach a reverential
submission to the divine will without its sequel of
stagnation, a heroic self-reliance without its danger of
atheism, a regenerative communion with the Highest
without the sacrilegious folly of selfish prayer.
Reincarnation unites all the family of man into a universal
brotherhood more effectively than the prevailing
humanity. It promotes the solidarity of mankind by
destroying the barriers that conceit and circumstances
have raised between individuals, groups, nations,
and races. All are alike favored with perfect poetic
justice. The children of God are not ordained some
to honor and others to abasement. There are no
special gifts. Physical blessings, mental talents, and
moral successes are the laborious result of long merit.
Sorrows, defects, and failures proceed from negligence.
The upward road to the glories of spiritual perfection
is always at our feet, with perpetual invitations and
aids to travel higher. The downward way into sensual
wreckage is but the other direction of the same
way. We cannot despise those who are tending
down, for who knows but we have journeyed that way
ourselves? It is impossible for us to scramble up
alone, for our destiny is included in that of humanity,
and only by helping others along can we ascend ourselves.
The despondent sadness of the world which
dims the lustre of every joy, chanting the minor key
320of nature, haunting us in unaccountable ways, cropping
out in all literature and art, making the grandest of
poetry tragic and the sublimest music sombre, is the
unconscious voice of mankind, humming its keynote
of life. While we continue to dwell in the murky
realm of sense, that must prevail. But the bright rifts
illuminating the advance guard herald the approach
of day, and assure us that the trend of restless human
gyrations is away from that condition.
Contrary to the common opinion of eastern thought,
reincarnation is optimistic. The law of causation is
not a blind meting of eye for eye and tooth for tooth.
It opens out into a scheme of beneficent progress.
Science recognizes this in the vis medicatrix remedia
naturæ, the healing power of nature. What was
once denied in the creed of the alchemists concerning
the ascending impulse of all things is now preached
by science, which declares in Tyndall’s words that
“matter contains within it the promise and potency of
all life.” All minerals have the rudimentary possibility
of plants and animals. Crystals strive after
a higher life by assuming arborescent and mossy
shapes. Plants display the embryonic qualities of low
animals. No naturalist can mark infallibly the boundaries
of the three kingdoms, so closely are they interlinked.
A zoölogist does not doubt the possibility of
minerals becoming plants and these mounting into
animals. The movement of vital energy is manward,
and the cry of mankind is “excelsior,” towards God.
Poetry cherishes the same conviction
that somehow good
Shall be the final goal of ill,
For pangs of nature, sins of will,
Defects of doubt and taints of blood;
321That nothing walks with aimless feet;
That not one life shall be destroyed
Or cast as useless to the void
When God shall make this pile complete.
Behold! we know not anything.
We can but trust that good shall fall
At last, far off, at last, to all,
And every winter turn to spring.
And Tennyson’s uncertain faith is an undoubted verity
in the Orient, thus phrased by Edwin Arnold:—
Ye are not bound! the soul of things is sweet,
The heart of being is celestial rest;
Stronger than woe is will: that which was good
Doth pass to better—best.
Acknowledging that the forces of evil are terrific and
multiply themselves prodigiously, there can be no question
that the predominant powers are infinitely good.
And the supremacy of good in the universe diminishes
the full force of evil, makes the higher attractions
outvie the lower, and hastens the final disappearance
of darkness. This insures the amelioration of all
life by the benign process of re-birth; for
The Heart of all is a boundless Love
Pulsing through every part
In streams that thrill the hosts above
And make the atoms dart.
The strongest objection to reincarnation, our ignorance
of past lives, is met by the fact permeating all
nature and experience, that progress depends upon
forgetfulness. Every great stage of advancement is
accompanied by the mental loss of earlier epochs. One
of Montaigne’s best essays shows the blessedness of
defective memory. All deep philosophy agrees that
after an experience is absorbed into the soul, its purpose
322is accomplished, and the only chance of improvement
consists in “forgetting those things which are
behind and reaching forth unto those things which are
before.” It would be intellectually impossible for the
memory to grasp anything new, if it clung to all it
had known. One of the grandest discourses of that
greatest English preacher of the last generation, Frederick
W. Robertson, is upon the theme of “Christian
Progress by Oblivion of the Past.” The experience
of the race affords no sufficient endorsement of
the continuation of our mortal memories. It is impossible
to escape the liberal scientific teaching that
the mind is only an instrument of the soul, and when
it decays with the body, the soul retains of its earthly
possessions only what has sunk down into the character.
The logician of the Scriptures expresses this
in saying, “Whether there be knowledge it shall vanish
away.” But the everlastingness of character insures
the permanence of our identity and of our dearest
ties. And as the scale of being on earth shows a
gradual development of memory from the lowest protozoön
to man, so in man the unconscious memory
shall become more and more conspicuous, until it reveals
the course of our complete career.
The glorious unfoldment of our dormant powers in
repeated lives presents a spectacle magnificent beyond
appreciation, and approaches more grandly than any
other conception to the sublimity of human development.
Addison wrote: “There is not, in my opinion,
a more pleasing consideration than that of the perpetual
progress which the soul makes towards the perfection
of its nature, without ever arriving at a period
in it. To look upon the soul as going on from strength
to strength, to consider that she is to shine forever with
323new accessions of glory and brighten to all eternity;
that she will be still adding virtue to virtue and knowledge
to knowledge, carries in it something wonderfully
agreeable to that ambition which is natural to
the mind of man. Nay, it must be a prospect pleasing
to God himself, to see his creatures forever beautifying
in his eyes, and drawing nearer to Him by
greater degrees of resemblance.” Reincarnation shows
the programme by which this stupendous scheme is
being worked out, step by step, in the gradual method
of all God’s doings, and glorifies the present cycle as
a specimen of eternity which shall ever grow brighter
until the full brilliancy of the Highest shall radiate
from every life.
The practical application of this truth not only dispels
the haunting enigmas of life, but incites us to
the strongest habits of virtuous conduct in ourselves,
and of generous helpfulness toward others. It inspires
us to nurture all the means of developing noble
traits, since the promise of all good, and the only
highway out of the bogs of physical life into the mountain
heights of spirituality, is character. It reminds
us most forcibly that
Every thought of purity,
Every deed of right,
Conquers sin’s obscurity,
Speeds the reign of light;
Moves with might supernal
Toward rest and home,
Leads to life eternal,
Prays, “Thy kingdom come.”
It is not strange, therefore, that one of the leading
writers of Great Britain says of reincarnation: “The
ethical leverage of the doctrine is immense. Its motive
324power is great. It reveals as magnificent a background
to the present life, with its contradictions and
disasters, as the prospect of immortality opens up an
illimitable foreground, lengthening out the horizon
of hope. It binds together the past and the present
and the future in one ethical series of causes and effects,
the inner thread of which is both personal to
the individual and impersonal, connecting him with
two eternities, one behind and the other before. With
peculiar emphasis it proclaims the survival of moral
individuality and personal identity along with the
final adjustment of external conditions to the internal
state of the agent.”[58]
Alongside of the Scotch professor’s words we place
these sentences from an eastern teacher, that the
wisdom of the antipodes may grasp hands in one common
brotherhood for the instruction of the world:—
“There is in each incarnation but one birth, one
life, one death. It is folly to duplicate these by persistent
regrets for the past, by present cowardice, or
fear of the future. There is no Time. It is Eternity’s
now that man mistakes for past, present, and
future.
“The forging of earthly chains is the occupation
of the indifferent; the awful duty of unloosing them
through the sorrows of the heart is also their occupation.
“Liberate thyself from evil actions by good actions.”[59]
Emerson, who unites in one personality the sublimest
intuitions of the Orient with the broadest observations
of the West, may well represent a noble
325harmony of these distant kinships when he says:
“We must infer our destiny from the preparation.
We are driven by instinct to hive innumerable experiences
which are of no visible value, and we may
revolve through many lives before we shall assimilate
or exhaust them. Now there is nothing in nature
capricious, or whimsical, or accidental, or unsupported.
Nature never moves by jumps, but always in
steady and supported advances.... If there is the
desire to live, and in larger sphere, with more knowledge
and power, it is because life and knowledge and
power are good for us, and we are the natural depositaries
of these gifts. The love of life is out of all
proportion to the value set on a single day, and seems
to indicate a conviction of immense resources and possibilities
proper to us, on which we have never drawn.
All the comfort I have found teaches me to confide
that I shall not have less in times and places than I
do not yet know.”
We conclude, therefore, with the conviction that all
the best teachers of mankind—religion, philosophy,
science, and poetry—urge the soul to
Be worthy of death; and so learn to live
That every incarnation of thy soul
In varied realms, and worlds, and firmaments
Shall be more pure and high.
APPENDIX. — BIBLIOGRAPHY OF REINCARNATION. — I. Latin. — II. German. — III. French. — IV. English. — V. English. ( Translations. ) — VI. Fiction. — VII. Articles in Periodicals, Pamphlets, etc. — VIII. Philosophical and Theosophical Magazines.
327
328Where a book raises your spirit, and inspires you with noble and
courageous feelings, seek for no other rule to judge the event by: it
is good and made by a good workman.—De la Bruyère.
You despise books: you whose whole lives are absorbed in the vanities
of ambition, the pursuit of pleasure, or in indolence; but remember
that all the known world, excepting only savage nations, is
governed by books.—Voltaire.
Within their silent chambers treasures lie
Preserved from age to age; more precious far
Than that accumulated store of gold
And orient gems, which for a day of need
The Sultan hides deep in ancestral tombs;
These hoards of truth you can unlock at will.
Wordsworth.
I not only commend the study of this literature (the eastern), but
wish our sources of supply and comparison vastly enlarged. American
students may well derive from all former lands—all the older
literatures and all the newer ones—bearing ourselves always courteous,
always deferential, indebted beyond measure to the motherworld,
to all its nations dead, as all its nations living.
Walt Whitman.
In books lies the soul of the whole Past Time—the articulate,
audible voice of the Past, when the body and material substance of
it has altogether vanished like a dream. No magic Rune is stranger
than a book. All that mankind has done, thought, gained or been, is
lying in magic preservation in the pages of books. Do not books still
accomplish miracles as Runes were fabled to do? They persuade
men.—Carlyle.
329
APPENDIX.
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Virgil. Eneid. Translated by William Morris. Boston,
1876. Trans. by C. P. Cranch. Boston, 1872. (See latter
part of the sixth Eneid.)
Ovid. Metamorphoses. Pythagorean Philosophy. Translated
by Dryden. London and New York.
Plato. Phædro. Translated by B. Jowett. New York,
1871. Also in Bohn’s Classical Library.
Plutarch. Essay on the Delay of Heavenly Justice. In his
Miscellaneous Essays. London and New York.
Origen, The Writings of. Translated by Rev. Frederick
Crombie. 2 vols. Edinburgh, 1869. In Clark’s Ante-Nicene
Christian Library.
340Richter, Jean Paul. Levana. London, 1848. (p. 346.)
Israel, Manasseh Ben. Conciliata. Translated by Dr.
Linde. (A rich mine of information concerning the Kabala,
and Jewish preëxistence.)
Fourier, Charles. Passions of the Human Soul. Translated
by Hugh Dougherty. London, 1851. (For Fourier’s ideas on
immortality see Introduction, pp. xiv-xviii.)
Herodotus. Book II. cap. 123.
Timæus, the Locrian. (A Pythagorean.)
Schopenhauer, Arthur. The World as Will and Idea. Translated
by R. B. Haldane and I. Kemp. 3 vols. London, 1883–86.
(See Vol. III. p. 468.) Essay on Death and Immortality.
Translated by C. L. Bernays in the Journal of Speculative Philosophy,
Vol. I. 1867.
Talmud, The. J. Barclay. 1878. Selections from the Talmud.
H. Polano. 1848.
Figuer, Louis. The To-morrow of Death. Translated by S.
R. Crocker. Boston, 1872.
Bonnet, Charles. Philosophic Palingenesis. Paris.
Hen, Llywarch. Heroic Elegies. Translated by Owen.
(Welsh Poems of Druidism.)
Diogenes Laertius. Lives and Opinions of Eminent Philosophers
of Antiquity. Translated by C. D. Yonge. In Bohn’s
Standard Library. London, 1853. (See Plato, Pythagoras,
Empedocles, Hierocles.)
Dacier, A. Life of Pythagoras, with his Symbols and Golden
Verses. From the French. London, 1797. Hierocles, upon the
Golden Verses of the Pythagoreans. Trans, by J. Moor. Glasgow,
1756. Life of Pythagoras, with his Symbols and Golden
Verses, together with the Life of Hierocles and his Commentaries
upon the Verses. From the French. London, 1721.
Müller, Julius. Christian Doctrine of Sin. Trans. by Wm.
Pulsford. In Clark’s Foreign Theological Library. Edinburgh.
Hagenbach, Karl R. History of Doctrine. Trans. by Carl
W. Buch. In Clark’s Foreign Theological Library. Edinburgh.
(For Patristic Preëxistence see pp. 143-, 285-.) New York, 1863.
Schlegel, W. F. von. Æsthetics and Miscellaneous Works.
In Bohn’s Library. 1849. (See p. 468.)
Kuenen, A. National Religions and Universal Religions.
(Hibbert Lectures, 1882.) Trans. by Rev. P. H. Wicksteed.
New York, 1882. (Lecture V. is upon Buddhism.)
341Renouf, P. Le Page. The Religion of Ancient Egypt. (Hibbert
Lectures for 1879.) New York, 1879.
Grimm’s Teutonic Mythology. See the article on Transmigration,
Vol. II. pp. 655, 826.
Oldenberg, Hermann. Buddha, his Life, his Doctrine, his
Order. Translated by William Hoey. London, 1882.
Buddhist Birth Stories. Edited by Faurboël. Translated by
Rhys David.
Rossetti, D. G. St. Agnes of Intercession. An autobiographical
story. In Rossetti’s Collected Works. London. (Vol. I.
p. 399.)
Willis, N. P. A Revelation of a Previous Life. An autobiographical
sketch. In his “Dashes at Life.” New York, 1841.
Macnish, R. The Metempsychosis by a Modern Pythagorean.
In Tales, Essays, and Sketches. London, 1844. Also in
Blackwood’s Magazine, XIX. 496; Littell, LVII. p. 500;
Tales from Blackwood, Vol. II.; Good Stories, Part II.
Confessions of a Metempsychosian. Fraser’s Magazine, XII.
496.
Cooke, Rose Terry. Metempsychosis. Atlantic Monthly, II.
59.
Fielding, Henry. A Journey from this World to the Next.
In his Complete Works. London.
Sinnet, A. P. Karma. Boston, 1886.
Hogg, James. The Wool Gatherer. In his Winter Evening
Tales. Glasgow.
Stevenson, R. L. The Adventures of Dr. Jekyl and Mr.
Hyde. New York, 1887.
Hawthorne, Julian. Archibald Malmaison. New York, 1885.
Flammarion, Camille. Stories of Infinity. Trans. by S. R.
Crocker. Boston, 1873.
Duchess, Emilia. Boston, 1887.
Hunt, Mrs. E. B. The Wards of Plotinus. London and
New York, 1881. (In this historical novel Plotinus and the Neo-Platonists
of his time are the principal figures, though not much
of their philosophy of preëxistence appears.)
Balzac, Honoré de. Peau de Chagrin. Paris, 1839.
Erckman, E., and Chatrian, A. L’Illustre Docteur Mathéus.
Paris, 1859.
342Fechner, Gustav T. Dr. Mises. Leipzig.
(These stories of doubles may also be added, as showing more
or less the impersonation of the higher and lower self in separate
embodiments:)
Fouqué. Sintram and his Companion.
Andersen, Hans C. The Shadow.
Browning, Mrs. E. B. The Romaunt of Margret.
Gautier. Le Chevalier Double.
Hale, E. E. My Double and How he undid me.
Poe, E. A. William Wilson.
Bowen, Prof. Francis. Christian Metempsychosis. Princeton
Review, New Series, VII. 315. (May, 1881.)
Alger, Wm. R. The Transmigration of Souls. North American
Review, LXXX. 58. (January, 1855.)
Glanvil, Joseph, wrote a long letter full of curious learning to
Richard Baxter, in defense of the soul’s preëxistence, which is
among the Baxter MSS. in the Red-Cross Street Library,
Cripplegate.
Sentiment of Pre-existence. Chamber’s Journal. (May 17,
and Oct. 11, 1845.)
Doctrine of Pre-existence. The Radical, III. 517.
Pre-existence of Souls. American Presbyterian Review, II.
546. (March, 1854.)
Knight, Prof. William. Doctrine of Metempsychosis. Fortnightly
Review, XXX. 422. (See p. 96, above.)
Pontius, J. W. Transmigration of Souls. Reformed Quarterly
Review, XXVIII. 625.
Pre-existence of Souls. Bibliotheca Sacra, XII. (Jan., 1855.)
From Keil’s Opuscula Acad.
Pre-existence. Methodist Review, Oct., 1853.
Concerning Preëxistence. Penn Monthly, VIII. 655. Sept.,
1877.
Rust, Dr. Bishop of Dromore. A Letter of Resolutions concerning
Origen and the Chief of his Opinions. Republished in
the collection of Tracts called the Phœnix.
Oliphant, Lawrence. The Land of Gilead. A Remarkable
Narrative of a Child who remembered previous Lives. Blackwood’s
Magazine, Vol. CXXIX. Jan., 1881.
343Pythagoras. University Magazine. Sept., 1879.
Preëxistence. Notes and Queries. Second Series, Vol. II.
453, 517; III. 50–52, 132; IV. 157, 234, 298; V. 303; VII.
319; XI. 341–343.
Transactions of the London Lodge of the Theosophical Society,
No. 5. A paper on Reincarnation by Miss Anundale,
with comments by Mohini M. Chatterji. London, 1886.
Sense of Preëxistence. Littell’s Living Age, LIV. 222.
Metempsychose chez les Babis. Journal Asiatique, VIII.
488.
Metempsychose chez les Tibétains. Journal Asiatique, XIV.
409.
The Path. Edited by W. Q. Judge. New York.
The Theosophist. Ed. by H. P. Blavatsky. Adyar, India.
Lucifer. Ed. by Mabel Collins and H. P. Blavatsky. London.
The Occult World. Ed. by Mrs. J. W. Cables. Rochester,
N. Y.
The Religio-Philosophical Journal. Chicago, Ill.
The Journal of Speculative Philosophy. New York.
Journal des Savants. Paris.
La Revue Philosophique. Paris.
Journal Asiatique. Paris.
Revue de l’Histoire des Religions. Edited by Jean Reville.
Paris.
Le Lotus. Ed. by K. Gaboriaux. Paris.
Les Jours Nouveaux. Ed. by Duchess de Poma. Paris.
L’Aurore. Paris.
Die Sphinx. Hübbe-Schleden. Münich.
Zeitschrift für Philosophie und philosophische Kritik. Dr.
Krohn und Rich. Falckenberg. Halle.
3. We purposely use the term Personal in preference to spiritual,
for the word should be rescued from its confusion of meanings
to the old classical one, in connection with the soul. As Hermann
Lotze beautifully unfolds, “Personality is the key to existence,”
using the word in its first sense from persona, a mask,
parallel to the Hebrew analogy which calls man the image of
Jehovah. Mulford also presents the thought grandly in The
Republic of God and The Nation, drawing his suggestion from
the Germans Stahl and Froschammer. In this sense humanity
is the shadow of Deity, the veil through which the Absolute
tries to reveal Himself, casting about in the multiplicity of natural
forms after an expression through physical means of His
own nature. In this sublime conception God is the life of the
universe, who, in Schelling’s phrase, “sleeps in the stone,
breathes in the plant, moves in the animal, and wakes up to consciousness
in man.” It is this thought which makes Novalis so
reverent to a human being as a Microdeus, and elevates the dignity
of the soul above all else. For as the purpose of nature is
to personify the Invisible, human souls are the Persons (or
masks) by which the leading parts are here acted with many
changes of scenery.
4. This idea is grandly stated in Isaac Taylor’s Physical Theory
of a Future Life. In demonstrating the assurance that the
future existence is in material bodies, and showing the glorious
extensions to which the coming bodily powers will probably be
developed, the author approaches strangely near the philosophy
of reincarnation.
5. H. T. Buckle, History of Civilization, vol. i. p. 166.
10. Kant’s distinction between the Intelligible character and the
Empirical or acquired character, which is a metaphysical form
of the reincarnation view concerning the eternal Individuality
and the temporal Personality, is shown by Professor Bowen on pp.
102 et seq.
11. Lockhart’s Life of Scott (first edition, vol. vii. p. 114).
12. As a physiological explanation of these instances, Dr. Wigan
published in 1844 a curious book entitled, “The Duality of the
Mind” (London), which excited animated discussions and called
forth a number of circumstances which the double structure of
the brain could not explain.
13. Professor William Knight, in the Fortnightly Review, 1878.
See p. 95.
14. Leibnitz first directed attention to these singular phenomena.
Sir William Hamilton has collected a number of instances
of such wonderful revival of memory. Carpenter’s
Mental Physiology, pp. 430 et seq., and Brodie’s Psychological Inquiries,
Second Series, p. 55, mention several cases. Coleridge
cited from the German a remarkable illustration, and commented
upon it in his Biographia Literaria, chapter vi.:—
“This fact (and it would not be difficult to adduce several of
the same kind) contributes to make it even probable that all
thoughts are in themselves imperishable; and that, if the intelligent
faculty should be rendered more comprehensive, it
would require only a different and apportioned organization, the
body celestial instead of the body terrestrial, to bring before every
human soul the collective experience of its whole past existence.
And this—this, perchance, is the dread Book of Judgment, in
whose mysterious hieroglyphics every idle word is recorded!
Yea, in the very nature of a living spirit, it may be more possible
that heaven and earth should pass away than that a single act, a
single thought, should be loosened or lost from that living chain
of causes to all whose links, conscious or unconscious, the free
will, our only absolute Self, is co-extensive and co-present.”
15. A noble passage from one of the greatest of these may be
found in Scott’s Christian Life, chapter iii. section i. See also
Dr. Henry More’s Immortality of the Soul, Book II. chapter
xvi., and Sir Kenelm Digby’s remarks on Sir Thomas Browne’s
Religio Medici.
16. A full list of the principal western writers on this subject is
given in the Appendix.
17. Haldane and Kemp’s Translation, vol. iii. pp. 299–306.
46. Beside these recent English books the Appendix gives many
older ones.
47. In the explicit phrasing from which this section is derived,
there are mentioned seven planets, through each of which the soul
makes seven rounds, each round including seven races, and each
race seven sub-races, and these again containing seven branches,
multiplying the whole number of lives into a compound of seven.
Everywhere the sacred number appears, but contrary to the
strict interpretation of many students of oriental thought, we are
certain that these figures are only symbols. Just as the spectrum
might be split into only three essential components, or into
a much larger number than seven, so the dissection of these
courses of the soul into any one number seems to be an arbitrary
mathematical representation of the fact that each division must
include such components as will fit together in one indissoluble
entirety.
48. This corresponds to the Hindu triple existence mentioned in
the Laws of Manu: “Souls endued with goodness attain always
the state of deities; those filled with ambitious passions, the
condition of men; and those immersed in darkness, the nature
of beasts. This is the threefold order of transmigration.”
50. Dr. William King, in the Dreamer, a series of satirical
dreams, which humorously illustrate the alleged doctrine of
Pythagoras and Plato, as well as the abuses of religion, etc.
51. From Dacier’s Life of Pythagoras, with his Symbols and Golden
Verses, together with the Life of Hierocles, and his Commentaries upon
the Verses, p. 335. London, 1721.
52. See the psychometric investigations recorded in Professor
Denton’s book The Soul of Things.
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