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HEALING: THE DIVINE ART

CHAPTER 9: AILMENTS PSYCHICAL AND PSEUDO-PSYCHICAL

TREATMENT AND CASE HISTORIES -- MISINTERPRETATION AND MISUSE OF KNOWLEDGE -- POPULAR METAPHYSICS AND SELF-STYLED PSYCHOLOGISTS -- INDIGESTIVE THOUGHTS AND IDEAS -- PSYCHICAL PHENOMENA ARE MOSTLY PSYCHOLOGICAL -- THE PERSECUTION COMPLEX -- THE CASE OF THE SCARAB RING -- THE CASE OF THE DEVIL'S WEATHER VANE  -- TURNABOUT MALEVOLENCE -- PSEUDO-PSYCHICAL PHENOMENA  -- THE CASE OF THE PHANTOM BRIDEGROOM -- THE CASE OF THE GETTYSBURG GHOST --  VOICES FROM THE GREAT BEYOND -- THE CASE OF THE MOVING FINGERS -- DELUSIONS OF REBIRTH.

TREATMENT AND CASE HISTORIES

(All proper names used in the case histories are fictitious, and any similarity to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.)

IN ancient times, the secret sciences of nature and the esoteric parts of religion and philosophy were closely guarded in the Temples of the Gods, by orders of initiated priests. A young man resolved to dedicate his life to the service of the Mysteries, had first to secure letters from the elders of his city and the teachers of his preparatory school; these credentials testified to his outstanding character and scholastic ability. They were issued only after a complete investigation of his family background and his own conduct from early childhood. And the applicant had also to prove proficiency in at least three arts or sciences, usually mathematics, astronomy, and music.

When the candidate for admission to the Temple had presented his recommendations to the priests, he was further examined as to his bodily perfection, moral integrity, and devotion to learning. If he passed these tests with sufficiently high honors, he was admitted to the class of neophytes, to begin his term of formal instruction.

The period of study and testing lasted from five to ten years, according to the rules of the particular order. At any time during this period the neophyte might be dismissed if he lacked the required aptitudes.

At the end of his novitiate, the disciple was expected to make the grand tour. Unless wars made the journey impossible, he visited the Mystery Temples of various districts and countries, studying for a time at each of the Sanctuaries. Finally, at the discretion of the Hierophant of his own Temple, the neophyte was informed that he might attempt the initiation.

The initiatory drama was divided into several parts. Selected priests questioned the candidate to prove his knowledge in every branch of the sacred sciences. He was turned over to another group of initiators who tested his fortitude, and his moral and physical courage, in tests which exposed him to a series of real and imaginary dangers. If he failed in any of these trials the neophyte disappeared forever from the sight of men.

The last part of the ritual was a magnificent religious pageant, given in the great theatre of the Mysteries. The candidate was accepted into the Brotherhood of the Twice Born, he was embraced by the Master of the House, who also bestowed the 'new name' and the insignia of the Order. The new initiate was then instructed in the final secrets of the adytum, and admonished to go forth from this inner shrine and devote his life to the service of mankind.

MISINTERPRETATION AND MISUSE OF KNOWLEDGE

These elaborate precautions were not imposed by any selfish desire on the part of the priests to prevent the spread of wisdom; they were dictated by two important considerations: The first was to prevent the misinterpretation of knowledge by the uninformed. The second was to prevent the misuse of knowledge by the unworthy. "The mysteries of God are for the initiated," sang the old Hebrew prophet, and no truer words were ever spoken. It requires many years of study, devotion, and self-discipline to fit the life and the mind for the abstractions of metaphysical philosophy.

It is a popular modern conceit that knowledge belongs to whomsoever can discover it, by any means, fair or foul. The initiated priests of the elder rites held to a different conviction. They taught that knowledge belongs only to those who can use it wisely. The most difficult of all the arts and sciences is religion, because. it deals with intangibles; few indeed are the landmarks among familiar things to guide and direct the truth-seeker; his dependence must be upon the strength of his own vision, and the basic integrity of his own viewpoint to protect him from the perils of abstract contemplation.

The old temples are now gone from the Western world; the priesthoods which guarded the shrines have vanished away; and the secret doctrines of long ago have become the religious fads of modern times. And now, after the lapse of ages, the thoughtful observer is beginning to understand why the old priests refused to give their spiritual secrets to the untutored world.

The Occidental has an especially hard time trying to keep his spiritual values straight. There is little in his environment or experience that can help him. He has been educated in material matters, but is as ignorant as a new-born babe when it comes to superphysical problems.

But in Asiatic countries, mysticism is still a living force, and most educated Orientals have a working knowledge of the so-called esoteric sciences. We of the West are not only uninformed, but blissfully unaware of our lack of information. Our average man is without any frame of reference by which he can evaluate doctrines and beliefs.

POPULAR METAPHYSICS AND SELF-STYLED PSYCHOLOGISTS

Those years of false prosperity between 1920 and 1929 were the golden age of popular metaphysics. Self-styled psychologists were explaining to enchanted audiences how dollars floated about in space, hunting for pockets to fall into, and the secret of success was to push out the chest, firmly, against the reverse side of the third vest button. Metaphysical teachers in flowing gowns of pastel hues taught spontaneous precipitation of prosperity, and led their enthusiastic followers in meditation, visualization, realization, holding the thought, and treating for power. Turbaned Orientals, masquerading as Yogis, involved their disciples in hopeless confusion; and when things were nicely out of hand, moved on to other pastures.

This was indeed the heyday of the cults, and the inmates of Old Bethlehem Madhouse were addicted to no wilder notions than those which then occupied the minds of sober American students of new thought. Weird cults, large and small, sprang up like mushrooms in the night. There was no rule or reason in the various teachings, all were pronounced inspired, and each contradicted the others. A totally uninformed, public selected as best it could from the wide display of offerings. None knew enough to justify his own choice, or aid others in their dilemma. All were sailing into the unknown together on the fabled Ship of Fools.

Those were the days when housewives were deep in spiritual alchemy, and maiden aunts made solemn pronouncements after two weeks in astrology. The local tailor was a Rosicrucian of high degrees, and the neighborhood grocer a Gnostic Illuminist. There were meetings of elderly would-be Yogis at the home of a prominent hardware dealer; and the corner druggist practiced mystic Buddhistic mantrams for his toothache. Everyone meant well, and each was trying desperately to improve himself; but none knew what he was doing, or had the slightest comprehension of the dangers to which he was exposing himself. The very condition which the old initiates had feared came to blase America with all its deadly force.

Mankind makes lovable mistakes at times, and this was one of the times. The truth-seekers of that day were earnest and sincere, but they could not succeed; they lacked both wisdom and understanding. How could Mrs. Smith, who put up excellent quince preserves, realize that it was not possible to master the secrets of the Cabala in ten easy correspondence lessons? She had never heard of the Cabala until she took those lessons, and did not dream that the most learned of Hebrew scholars approached the great Mystery of the Cabalistic Splendors with fear and trembling, and devoted a lifetime of prayer, meditation, and study to a few verses of its sacred books.

Many sects were founded in these troubled Nineteen- Twenties. Some were created by honest well-meaning folk totally unprepared to cope with the consequences of organization and the complications which always arise in manmade institutions. Most of these sects were short-lived, and were destroyed by their own internal bickerings. Other groups were started by thoroughly dishonest men who had no interest beyond the golden opportunity to become rich off the faith and credulity of their followers. These false leaders were definitely criminals, and the damage they have done in the lives of human beings is beyond estimation.

The Great Depression ended most of the lesser cults, but some have survived to perpetuate the confusion. For years it has been one of my jobs to salvage the products of false religious teachings. Only a person in my position, closely in touch with the entire field of metaphysics, can have any clear idea of the suffering, sickness, and insanity that have been left in the wake of fraudulent or deluded religious teachers. And the pernicious practices continue, protected by the right of free worship. Every few months a new cult appears to make more difficult the already painful course of human life.

INDIGESTIVE THOUGHTS AND IDEAS

The occupational diseases of occultism are the direct result of improper instruction or misunderstanding. This basic difficulty is aggravated further by that unsettled state of mind which causes metaphysicians to wander from one belief to another, accumulating a mass of unrelated notions. As indigestible food results in physical stomach trouble, so indigestive thoughts and ideas result in mental dyspepsia. Once the mind loses its contact with those simple certainties which protect the normal person, the power of direct and solutional thought is lost, and the whole mental nature degenerates into vagary.

By the time an ordinary human being has taken a numerological name to improve his vibrations, has altered his diet several times in order to increase his spiritual content, has changed his occupation to some line that does not conflict with his ideals of the moment, has broken up his home because it interfered with his ascetic aspirations, has painted stars on the ceiling of his meditation room to make the cosmos seem closer, has practiced all the development exercises recommended by an assortment of instructors, and has periodically burned his library of rejected authors, he is in a fair way to becoming completely demoralized.

If the average cult is totally indifferent as to the ultimate state of its members, it is entirely conscious of their periodic contributions. To prevent members from wandering outside the fold, the cult may issue a series of solemn pronouncements calculated to prevent such delinquency. The warnings are reminiscent of the worst utterances of the old orthodox theologians. The backslider will lose of course all participation in heavenly bliss and earthly happiness. But this is only the beginning of his misfortunes. Black magicians will hound him the rest of his days; evil spirits will plague his sleep; and malicious forces will steal away his goods. Even the eternal being of the metaphysical heretic is threatened with divers calamities. One group warned that to leave their order was to be set back two-hundred incarnations in spiritual evolution. Another sect warned that only members in good standing would be permitted to see the second coming of Christ. Some leaders have gone so far as to hint, broadly, that they will destroy with occult powers any followers who attempt to depart from their holy ministrations. Thus does the old fear of the devil and his agencies rise again in modem mystical movements, and so are most metaphysicians loaded with fears, primitive terrors with a thin veneer of new thought.

With most cultists of today, the belief in the miraculous has taken away common sense. Trivial circumstances take on deep esoteric meaning. Persons have phoned me in the middle of the night to report a strange scratching sound under the floor near the bed. Is this noise caused by a Mahatma? Or do I think it possible that an initiation is pending? Or are the elementals at work again? Then, with a quaver in the voice, comes the inevitable question: Is it some evil force come to destroy?

If you assure the terrified one that a mouse under the floor would explain the situation quite nicely, and if he then accepts your explanation -- which is rare -- relief is mingled with disappointment. The victim had hoped the sound at least bore witness to the presence of a deceased relative.

PSYCHICAL PHENOMENA ARE MOSTLY PSYCHOLOGICAL

In the books on spiritual healing which have come to my attention, no clear line is drawn between psychical and psychological phenomena. It is usual to assume that ailments apparently metaphysical, actually are metaphysical; and treatment is based upon this kind of diagnosis.

Experience proves that genuine occult phenomena are exceedingly rare; and physical suffering due to such causes is equally rare. Obsession, spirit possession, black magic, psychic persecution, vampirism, undue occult influence, malicious magnetism, elemental annoyances, and destructive vibrations are the more common forms of occult ailments. We may concede that such phenomena do exist, since history supports such a belief, tradition further sustains it, and experience confirms the testimonies. But we can also realize that not one in five hundred cited cases actually involves any superphysical factors.

Imagination, distorted by erroneous religious teaching, is responsible for a wide variety of curious manifestations that appear supernatural to the individual who has lost his sense of values. The man who reads Sinistrari's Demonologia far into the night is quite likely to dream of demons, and see an assemblage of imps leering at him from the foot-rail of his bed. After a few weeks study of kundalini and the spirit-fire in the spine, the novice is almost certain to feel strange currents moving through his body and imagine he is on the verge of cosmic-consciousness. Soon after learning of the existence of Masters and Adepts, it should not be surprising if the overwhelmed student dreams of these great ones, and then announces proudly that he has left his body and gone to a temple in the high Himalayas. The imagination is ready always to supply the substance for things hoped for and longed after.

The psychic phenomena reported on every hand cannot be genuine; the students are not sufficiently advanced nor informed to have such experiences. Clairvoyance does not come upon one without warning or preparation; nor are persons initiated into the secret orders of far Tibet without rhyme or reason. Yet many have come to me for explanations of their wonderful spiritual adventures in space. It never dawns on these persons that something must be wrong when an initiate is not told the meaning or purpose of his own initiation; and equally lacks the knowledge to explain the very rituals through which he has passed.

The simplest method of showing how metaphysical or pseudo-metaphysical ailments should be diagnosed and treated is by reference to case histories. They allow the reader to examine the evidence for himself and to discover how easily the human mind becomes a victim of mystical hallucinations. All of these records are authentic, but names and unimportant details have been slightly altered to protect the sufferers from embarrassment.

To work successfully with problems of this kind the practitioner needs broad, general knowledge of his subject, and three specialized qualifications. First, he should be a good listener, never shocked by revelations, capable of evaluating evidence, and as a professional consultant not be susceptible to false interpretation of conditions which the patient himself has come to believe. Second, he must possess a certain gift for strategy, so that the patient will not depart in a huff when told the unromantic basis of his case. Third. and invaluable. is a flair for amateur detective work; for it is often necessary to recognize revealing clues hidden under a mass of false evidence.

THE PERSECUTION COMPLEX

In the field of religious psychology, the largest single group of sufferers is composed of those who believe sincerely that they are victims of occult malpractice. For some reason. usually not quite clear, these unfortunates have incurred the displeasure of black magicians, disembodied spirits, or persons still in the flesh, who are able, in one way or another, to persecute, intimidate, or victimize these sufferers.

It is rare indeed, in such cases, for the recipients of all this evil power and attention to be able to give any reasonable explanation as to how it came about that they have merited so much villainy.

There is always a weak link in the chain of evidence which is advanced to sustain a persecution complex. One patient explained at great length how he had been attacked by evil forces while in a state of amnesia, with terrible consequences extending over a period of years. The story was convincing except on one point, the poor man could not remember when the amnesia occurred!

Another miserable old gentleman believed that several wicked magicians had invented a kind of radio that sent out destructive vibrations. The full force of this machine was being centered upon him; he was sure of this because he could hear the buzzing of the instrument day and night. It took a world of argument to persuade this deluded person that he was afflicted with buzzing from nothing worse than an attack of catarrh.

THE CASE OF THE SCARAB RING

Late one afternoon Mrs. Mary Annett laid on my office desk a massive and ornate ring containing a large beetle cut from blue stone. She sat down, folded her hands on the edge of the blotter, and exclaimed with great agitation, "Can you help me to get rid of this cursed thing?" Slowly, and with considerable difficulty she told her sad story.

Mary had been studying the occult sciences for a number of years with several teachers and groups. At last she had found· her true teacher, a 'perfectly wonderful' master who admitted that he was the only living initiate of the mysteries of Karnac. So it came about that Mary completely immersed herself in pseudo-Egyptian metaphysics. Then, one day several months earlier, this good lady had been 'drawn' by some psychic force into a little second hand store, and there was this "perfectly wonderful" old Egyptian scarab ring. It cost only a song, "because it was meant for her," and the dealer "had no idea of its value." She had worn the ring only for a few days when she discovered that the scarab had "perfectly wonderful" vibrations.

Now, it so happened that Mrs. Annett had a friend and fellow student who was a 'perfectly wonderful' psychometrist; and one evening the two believers went to work on the ring. After an appropriate procedure the occult divinator announced that the scarab had belonged to an ancient Egyptian priestess, who had been buried alive in the vaults of the temple, because she had dared to oppose the will of an evil magician. There was even the possibility that friend Mary was a reincarnation of the ill-starred priestess. It was all 'perfectly wonderful,' but not for long.

A few nights later Mary Annett had a vision. The wicked Egyptian magician appeared in the dead of night and the simple drama assumed melodramatic proportions. The deceased sorcerer laughed fiendishly and pointing a ghostly finger at terrified Mrs. Annett told her that the ring was cursed, and that so long as she wore it her soul belonged to his evil purposes. Then to complete the fatal picture, he further threatened that if ever she attempted to dispose of the scarab he would destroy her, body and soul.

The vision returned night after night, and all manner of minor misfortune had followed upon the curse. Her pet dog had mysteriously died, then the family pocketbook disappeared, a sister had an accident, and soon after, Mrs. Annett herself became the victim of a strange sick spell.

She had gone to her teacher, the still 'perfectly wonderful' man from Karnac, to be told by him that the condition was very serious, for Egyptian death-curses defied the highest magic of the modern world --

Long before the story with all its lurid details was finished these certain things were evident: There was not one bit of genuine psychic phenomena involved in any part of the happenings. The ring was not cursed; there had never been any priestess; the wicked magician was an illusion; the psychometrist friend had erupted in a violent outburst of imagination; the reported misfortunes were ordinary occurrences, falsely involved in the story; and last, but not least by any means, the 'perfectly wonderful' master from Karnac was a fraud -- or he would have found out the truth by one or another of his marvelous occult powers.

Fortunately the proof was conclusive, and Mrs. Annett went home happy. She had no more trouble with phantoms but experienced a highly dramatic moment when she stopped off to tell the man from Karnac what was on her mind.

The only level-headed person in the case proved to be the second hand store dealer, and with him the amateur detection technique came into the diagnosis. My first glance at the ring told me that the scarab was a fake, one of thousands made in Italy during the last twenty-five years; counterfeits which are sold all over the world as genuine but at a price far below the value of these comparatively rare Egyptian signets. One glance and inquiry as to what she had paid for the scarab, established that the good lady's strong vibrations could be only in her own mind.

What really had happened to Mary Annett was this: She had Egypt on her mind, not the Egypt of the archaeologist or antiquarian, but a fantastic, imaginary Egypt; one that existed only in the mind of a fraudulent metaphysical teacher. This unworthy controlled his ignorant followers with 'perfectly wonderful' revelations, which he hatched whenever they served his purposes. All aflutter with these splendid fictions, Mrs. Annett was drawn to the ring, not by its vibrations but by her own exaggerated interest. The incompetent psychometrist supplied the stuff necessary for a definite hallucination. Mrs. Annett dreaming about the tale she had heard, mistook the dream for a vision. The more she thought about the dream, the more she believed it, and the more she believed it, the more certain it was to be repeated. The other complications followed as a matter of course.

There are accounts of Egyptian curses which never have been explained satisfactorily, but fortunately, this was not one of those strange cases. The cause of Mary Annett's months of fear and acute mental suffering was nothing but fraudulent instruction in mystical beliefs.

THE CASE OF THE DEVIL'S WEATHER VANE

Tired little Mrs. Sarah Briswell looked for all the world like Whistler's painting of his mother. Her narrative· was to me especially pathetic because so much of pain and misery had been brought to the closing years of a sweet and gentle life, which had been burdened enough without this added woe. It required several hours to hear her story, but the substance is as follows:

Mrs. Briswell was approaching eighty, with her husband dead for fifteen years. After his death she had turned to metaphysics for comfort and consolation. She had attended many classes and had studied with nearly every lecturer who had visited her community.

One teacher in particular had made a profound impression. This 'wundermann' was the self-styled first line of defense against the 'dark forces' that were bent on the destruction of mankind. Every cult but his own was in league with the devil; and even the heads of nations and states were really black magicians determined to overthrow the world. The air was filled with evil vibrations, and a great dark monster hovered like some immense vampire bat above the earth. This horrible creature waited to devour any who rejected the salvation offered by the 'wundermann,' in ten easy lessons, with an advanced course for the elect.

Frightened out of her wits by this awful state of world affairs, aging little Sarah Briswell lived for years in constant fear. As second childhood came upon her, weakening mental faculties were set in a hopeless phobia. She dared not leave her room in a cheap boarding house after dark for fear that some malicious force would destroy her. She recited magical formulas every night to protect her immortal soul, and hung sacred pictures on the walls to keep away black magicians.

Then the terrible thing happened.

From her one little window on the third floor back, Sarah Briswell could look out over the roofs of the run-down neighborhood in which she lived. A few hundred feet away was a stately old mansion, heavily trimmed with the ginger-bread decorations of the Gay Nineties. On one corner of this pretentious house was a round squat tower, and on top of this tower was an elaborate weather vane of wrought iron; Sarah Briswell was fascinated by the weather vane. One day as she was gazing at the ornate device, to her utter amazement the arrow turned slowly and pointed directly at her. Then, as the childish little woman expressed it, "Everything came to her in a flash." The ancient dwelling was the headquarters of the black forces that were trying to destroy the world. The wicked sorcerers released their terrible magic through the point of the weather vane. Sometimes they pointed the iron arrow at her; and then she could feel the dreadful vibrations trying to kill her, because she was party to an awful secret.

It was useless to explain that the arrow was turned by the wind. That sort of explanation is all right only for uninitiated mortals who do not realize that dark forces are plotting the extinction of mankind. Nor did it help to point out that the house with the weather vane was not an ogre's castle, but a cheap hotel where elderly men with small means rocked all day long on the rutted wooden porch. For Mrs. Sarah Briswell knew that the old men were hired to sit there so that no one would suspect the sinister beings who gathered in the cupola.

Not a great deal could be done for Sarah Briswell. She was too old; her mind was too feeble to understand the truth about her own case. But a certain amount of psychological release resulted from the simple telling of her story. She had the personal comfort of feeling that her duty was done. For she turned over to me the task of saving the threatened world.

With my assurance that the matter would be given all necessary consideration, Mrs. Briswell departed with a somewhat better attitude and a pathetic little scheme of her own. She, with all secrecy, was going to move to another house, where the evil forces could not find her.

This is the only case of psychic persecution involving a weather vane in my files. but there are a large number of instances in which fear of evil beings has brought years of mental suffering. Unfortunately, the condition will continue just as long as fraudulent religious teachers, some of them mentally unbalanced themselves, are permitted in the name of religious tolerance to circulate false and destructive doctrines among their susceptible followers.

TURNABOUT MALEVOLENCE

Among the mental prosperity cults the persecution complex results from a fear that the very type of mental selfishness we are directing against others, may, in turn, be directed against ourselves. A man who was "holding the thought" for a rich relative to die and leave him a fortune, suddenly was certain that the wealthy uncle was sending equally malevolent mental vibrations in the direction of his evil-minded nephew. Here a bad conscience reaped its own reward.

Education is no protection against complexes, once the intellect is undermined. Two maiden sisters, both holding college degrees, developed a psychic feud which originated in a religious culturing of neuroses. One of them made a devil doll to represent her sister, and went through the old magical process of sticking pins in the doll. The victim, with a full knowledge of the plot, suffered terribly until she discovered a protective counter-spell which rendered the effigy harmless.

Ignorance gives no protection. A physician in Santa Fe told me this curious case: One of his patients, a totally unschooled Mexican, was cursed by a bruja (witch), and told that he would die in one year to the day. The cursed man slowly failed in health, although he was without any physical ailment; and on the allotted day turned over in his bed and died -- of fear. This man believed his life might have been saved had a Mexican boy with the name of Jose put on his clothes inside-out, and then ordered the witch to release her victim. Such are the workings of primitive psychology.

PSEUDO-PSYCHICAL PHENOMENA

Many types of psychical phenomena can be simulated by the imagination in conspiracy with the subconscious mind. Sometimes the imposture is so perfect that only weeks of patient research can uncover the facts. There is no conscious intent to deceive, but usually there is considerable wishful thinking involved in the occurrences.

Many persons turn to the psychic in times of grief or affliction. Under such conditions the reasoning faculties have small opportunity to function. So intense is the general desire of humankind to communicate with some loved one, that, particularly in bereavement, supernatural origin is attributed to the most trivial happenings. Once involved in the mystic maze of psychism, it is difficult indeed to distinguish fact from fantasy, especially when we want to believe the fantasy.

Nothing in this chapter should be interpreted as an attack on spiritualism. The reality of spiritualistic phenomena is established firmly by both tradition and experience. The qualified investigator approaching the subject with a trained mind, can and does, make important discoveries about that other life so close to our own. But the sentimentalist, seeking only comfort or peace in an emotional emergency, easily falls victim to his own delusions. Some of my case histories should prove of real value to thoughtful researchers in the field of psychical phenomena.

THE CASE OF THE PHANTOM BRIDEGROOM

Mrs. Betty Larson and John had been married just one year. She was an attractive girl, graduated from a well-known university, and to all appearances level headed and practical. Betty had become interested in the occult through her mother, who was completely immersed in a cult that specialized in soul-mates. This was the only part of the teaching that had made much of an impression on the younger woman.

John was an average American, twenty-five years old, sober, industrious, very much in love and a trifle dull. He had no interest in things mystical. If Betty had those ideas, it was all right with him.

Mrs. Larson explained her problem simply and clearly. She was not passionately in love with John, but she did admire him sincerely and felt that they could be happy together. They had been married only about three months when their lives had been triangulated by a visitor from the other world. The apparition had appeared to Betty in the middle of the night, and she was positive, (they always are,) she was not asleep at the time. He was a young and handsome specter, costumed as of the romantic medieval period. In spirit voice he announced to the young wife that she was his soul-mate, married to him forever in the inner world; and so she must divorce her husband, and remaining true to her spirit partner throughout life. they would be united forever after her death.

"I don't know what to do," said Mrs. Larson. "John is a fine man, and all this has hurt him terribly. But my soul-mate is everything I have ever dreamed of, and if we are ordained to be one, I must be true to him."

It had looked for a moment that this might be a real psychic problem, but Betty revealed the key to the whole matter when she said of her mysterious visitor that he was everything she had ever dreamed of. For that is exactly what he was -- a dream.

Like many other young girls, Betty in her teens had created in her own mind a romantic ideal of the man whom some day she would marry. Of course, it is rare that such a dream can be realized; and in her conscious mind Betty knew this. She married John as one who promised to be a satisfactory husband, though possessed of few of the attributes of her ideal type. But the subconscious mind remembered Prince Charming, and a half-belief in the doctrines of the soul-mate cult was sufficient to set up a mechanism which resulted in the young wife's vision.

Imaginings of this sort can not endure the light of exposure, and Mrs. Larson had only to be made to realize that her spirit bridegroom was the personification of her childhood dream hero to see the entire process. There were no more visitations; the case was closed. John, a thoughtful young man, profited from the experience; he at once cultivated some of the qualities which his wife admired especially, and in this contributed much to the subsequent happiness of the couple. Betty made the astute observation as she was leaving my office that first day: "Could it be said that nearly all soul-mates have had the same origin as mine?"

THE CASE OF THE GETTYSBURG GHOST

Old Captain Hartsell departed from this mortal sphere in 1930, from a complication of physical ailments; but before he died we had many talks together about the ghost that ruined his life. His is a case where it is quite possible that the trouble started with an actual psychical experience, but gradually developed into a typical psychological delusion.

The night after the Battle of Gettysburg, the Captain, exhausted and slightly wounded, threw himself on the ground under a small tree and fell into a deep trance-like sleep. Just before dawn he was awakened by someone shaking him violently. Sitting up half dazed, the astonished officer saw a tall figure in shimmering white standing among the branches of the tree. The unearthly being spoke in a low sorrowful voice:

"I died, and I did not want to die. I died yesterday on the field of Gettysburg, and now from the spirit world I can see the folly of war. Wars must cease, so that other innocent men shall not die as I have died. Wait, and watch, and pray; for in the fullness of time I will reveal to you the secret of everlasting peace among the nations of the earth. Through you all wars will end." After these fateful words the specter disappeared.

Perhaps it was a vision of some soldier who had died in battle, or perhaps it was the whole revulsion mechanism to war set up in the subconscious mind of the Captain himself which caused the vision. The facts can never be known. But one thing is certain, the ghostly occurrence ruined the life of Captain Hartsell.

Year after year he waited, and watched, and prayed; and many times the spirit appeared to him in his dreams, always promising to reveal in a little while the secret of world peace. On several occasions it seemed as though the revelation was at hand; but for some reason at the last moment it was always delayed, time after time, year after year.

For nearly seventy years the Captain waited faithfully for the solutional spirit message, but it never came. He did not marry; he gave up his business, and eked out a scanty living by doing odd jobs, for these could be dropped the moment he received the great call. In the course of his lifetime he consulted numerous mediums and psychics, but they could not wrest the secret from the mysterious spirit. At last, Captain Hartsell died at a Soldier's Home, a broken-hearted old man, laid to rest in the army cemetery with those others who had fought at Gettysburg.

The promise of some world changing revelation from the spirits of the departed is a common and tragic form of psychic disturbance. At least a hundred such cases are known to me personally, and not one has ever received the knowledge promised. The original vision at Gettysburg could have been authentic, but even so, the spectral dead soldier had no real solution for the tragedy that had destroyed him. He never appeared but once; it was the Captain's fixation that took over and manufactured a ghost out of the substances of longing, hope, and belief. This imaginary spirit could never bring the secret of peace, because it could never know more than the mind in which it was created.

This is the true explanation of a large group of pseudo- psychical phenomena. If the supposed entity exists only in the mind of the believer, it can not under any conditions solve problems that the believer himself cannot solve. Such pseudo-spirit promises, therefore, either must go unfulfilled, or the answers come from the living person's own level of thinking. Thus immature opinions may be transferred to the false ghost, to be returned again to their original creator through the lips of the vision, as an awe-filled and divine revelation. In this way many cults come to be founded by the self-deluded; and the spirit world is blamed for fantastic and foundationless doctrines.

VOICES FROM THE GREAT BEYOND

Persecution by voices, supposedly belonging to the dead, or to black magicians still alive, is a frequent form of pseudo-psychic malady. From my large collection of such case histories, one is selected. It involves a prosaic man, a plumber by trade, who attempted to develop his spiritual perceptions with the aid of a crystal ball.

William Jetty began to hear voices after his third sitting with the crystal. At the beginning he was appropriately thrilled with his newly gained clairaudience. But after a time, the spirits made quite a nuisance of themselves, with their constant jabbering. The voices seemed to come from the air, and by differences in their tones appeared to be both male and female; at least a dozen spirit personalities were differentiated.

The plumber was in a sad state when he came to see me. Night or day he had no peace; always the atmosphere was alive with whispering, chuckling, moaning, or shouting entities. Some of the voices were vile and hateful, others were gentle and entreating. Recently the voices had urged the frightened man to commit suicide, and then they would howl with ghoulish glee and tell him that he was going mad. Even as he was telling me this story, Jetty could hear the demoniacal laughter of the spirits.

It required considerable time and thought to clear up the case of William Jetty, the plumber.

The spirits that had risen to torment him were born in the ghostly sphere of his own subconscious, in a ghastly procession of impulses, phobias, and complexes which had assumed auditory forms, to release their doleful energies through the symbolism of words. Jetty heard the voices in his own mind; and it was in vocal patterns that all of his old hates, fears, greeds, lusts, grudges, and disappointments whispered their confused stories in his mental ear. Repressed impulses can of course manifest as voices; and in this case a secret impulse to suicide took this means of expressing itself.

It was a great help to William Jetty to learn that his trouble was not due to evil spirits. As he expressed it, "I can fight against my own faults, but I cannot fight the supernatural." With him, the battle was half won when the true state of affairs was known. It was the unknown that assumed monstrous proportions and paralyzed initiative. It made possible closing again the door of the subconscious, and returning the ghosts in time to their proper closet. Jetty went to work himself on some of the major fixations and cleared them up after a while.

William Jetty gave up the crystal ball. He knows now that sitting for hours gazing into a gleaming sphere with the mind a blank is far. more likely to release the phantoms of the subconscious than it is to raise genuine spirits from the misty deep.

THE CASE OF THE MOVING FINGERS

The lady was about forty years of age who one day dropped heavily into one of my office chairs. She was poorly organized, mentally, emotionally and physically; her suffering came from a serious overdose of a popular cultism. There were a number of interesting points in her narrative.

Mrs. Ethel Kirkbride, as we'll call her, married about fifteen years, was the mother of three children. From obvious defects in character it was easily understood that she was a poor housekeeper, mentally lazy, full of self pity, addicted to countless worries, extravagant and a nagger.

A few months back Mrs. Kirkbride had noticed a peculiar twitching in her right arm and hand. This increased until she developed into a full-fledged automatic writer. Now, all she had to do was to pick up a pencil, and her fingers began to quiver and jerk as though moved by some spirit force, and the result was scrawling, half legible material, "signed by an archangel."

The purpose of the lady's visit was not to secure help for her condition, but to invite me to publish her spirit manuscript, and thus change the whole course of human history.

Examination proved the so-called book to be a hopeless and horrible mass of unrelated jargon, of no possible value to anyone. It had everything in it from soul-flights to bad poetry, the whole permeated with bitterness and frustration. The manuscript was heightened with a number of curious examples of neurotic and erotic symbolism.

Broken down by the Freudian technique, usually applied to dreams, the automatic writings held the clearest indications that Mrs. Kirkbride was unhappily married, and that she entertained some very disagreeable notions about her husband.

When told that her automatic literary production was a complete expose of her own private life, Ethel Kirkbride was properly indignant. As it was proven to her, incident by incident, she glowered and fumed. At last, when she could stand no more of the damning evidence, she grabbed the manuscript, tore it to shreds and departed with a number of unladylike remarks. But out of the scene came good results; Mrs. Kirkbride did no more automatic writing. But it is doubtful that her home has been much the happier.

It has been proven to me on a number of occasions that automatic writing can originate in the subconscious mind. It may come as wish fulfillment, or as a means of releasing frustrations and inhibitions. The same is true of the Ouija board and other psychic devices.

DELUSIONS OF REBIRTH

The doctrine of reincarnation is one of the noblest and most practical of all philosophical teachings. For some years now, it has been fashionable among metaphysicians to remember three or four past lives. These previous appearances are referred to as "my seventh back," or, "my ninth before this," and if memory is a little weak on this subject, imagination always comes to the rescue. Occidental misunderstanding of the great law of rebirth as given by Gautama Buddha led to many humorous and pathetic situations at the time of the modern mystics giving the matter the benefit of their attention.

A smallish gentleman, marked from head to foot with evidences of non-eventuality, slipped into my sanctum one day and drawing himself up to his full five-foot-four, announced solemnly, "I am here."

Evidently my reaction was not sufficiently profound; so he added, with gestures, "I am Rameses the Great, reborn to lead the world." This visitor was not insane; it was not his mind that was lost, bur his common sense.

An amusing episode occurred at a meeting of an occult organization when a leader declared that she was the reincarnation of Hypatia. Instantly another prominent member arose and shouted, "It's not true -- I'm Hypatia!"

A man tall and thin with a smile enhanced by the lack of three front teeth, once buttonholed me after a lecture. "It's a secret," he whispered, "but I am Jacob Boehme reborn." It seemed to me an excellent opportunity to get some valuable information about the strange teachings of this obscure German mystic. But, the toothless one could not answer any of my questions. He explained the complete loss of his previous knowledge by saying, "I am here for a greater purpose, and all my previous studies have been blocked from my consciousness."

Things get more complicated when the memory of other lives is so complete that the visitor remembers your past incarnations, as well as his own. One delightful character grabbed me enthusiastically by both hands, exclaiming rapturously, "Imagine meeting you again, after all these lives? Isn't it wonderful? -- and to think we used to teach school together in Atlantis!"

Then there was an Indian who could tell by the "moons" in my eyes that we had been blood-brothers in Lemuria. The Adepts on Mt. Shasta had suggested to this aboriginal American that he could borrow ten dollars from me .... and what could a blood-brother do under such conditions.

We all have our vanity, and the kindly lady who recognized me as the original model for one of the statues on Easter Island will never realize how much scar-tissue she created m my ego.

Not a great deal of variety enters into reincarnation stories; the elements are generally similar, with minor variations. Occasionally past lives are held responsible for phobias and aversions. One man attributed his pyrophobia, (fear of fire), to the belief that he had been burned at the stake in a previous existence. A lady of uncertain morals excused her nymphomania on the grounds that she was the re-embodiment of Sappho, without any trace of lyric poetry.

Two case histories will indicate the usual trend of the reincarnation persuasion. The first account is undoubtedly false, and the second probably true. Both persons were convinced that they had lived in Rome during the early centuries of the Christian Era.

Robert Forsland felt certain that he was the rebirth of Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, Emperor and eclectic philosopher.

While in college Robert had developed a bad case of hero worship of this noble Roman, and had selected the Meditations as the subject for his thesis. After a number of years of normal business experience, soliciting insurance, Forsland read a book on reincarnation, and began to speculate as to his own previous lives. Quickly his mind reverted to Marcus Aurelius. Could it be possible that the haughty Marcus lived again in the humble frame of an insurance broker? If it was possible, it could be probable. If it was probable, it could be so. Ergo, it was so.

Upon this extraordinary example of logic, Robert erected a sober conviction that the grandeur which was Rome abode in him. For a man of mediocre attainments, an imperial destiny was a heavy responsibility. Robert did his best; but that best was pitifully inadequate. Trying to be a superman, he failed utterly at the task of being a normal human. He lost the respect of his friends, and his insurance employers decided against advancing a man with such a fixation to a position of authority.

Had Robert borne the slightest intellectual resemblance to the splendid Antoninus, all could have been forgiven; but from any point of perspective, except his own, the claim was absurd; and could be interpreted only as a mental aberration.

Albert Moorhead was an entirely different type of man, and his story demanded serious consideration. When Albert was six years old, he told his parents that he had lived before he was born to them. And in this previous life he had been a Roman soldier stationed in Palestine during the reign of the Emperor Vespasion.

The Moorheads, a good, orthodox Scotch-Irish family, were horrified; the members all tried in every way to disprove this strange remembrance. But the boy refused to be shaken, and added so many accurate details of Roman life and history that in the end the parents themselves were half convinced.

The little lad told them that in his former life his name was Lucian, and after serving several years in the Near East he had returned to Rome by way of Ephesus. Because of his service in foreign wars he became a member of the Imperial Guard, and frequently accompanied the Emperor on state missions. Later, he was pensioned and retired to a small farm, where he died at an advanced age.

At eleven, Albert insisted on studying Latin; and so quickly did he learn the language that at thirteen he could read Virgil in the original. As he grew up he was interested only in a military career and joined the army. After one enlistment he left the service; he had found no excitement in peacetime army life.

In later years, Albert Moorehead read of the Buddhist doctrine of rebirth. He accepted it immediately, because he knew from his own experiences that the belief was true. He seldom discussed his memories, but one evening he summed up his conclusions thus:

"I was only a soldier eighteen centuries ago, living the life of my time. I hope that in this incarnation I can do something really worth while. But if I cannot accomplish everything now, I will do my best and look forward with certainty to other lives. In the end I will make my contribution to the good of mankind."

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