REINCARNATION/PART 10
CHAPTER X.
The
Proofs of Reincarnation.
To many minds the
"proof" of a doctrine is its reasonableness and its adaptability as
an answer to existing problems. And, accordingly, to such, the many arguments
advanced in favor of the doctrine, of which we have given a few in the
preceding chapters, together with the almost universal acceptance of the
fundamental ideas on the part of the race, in at least some period of its
development, would be considered as a very good "proof" of the
doctrine, at least so far as it might be considered as the "most available
working theory" of the soul's existence, past and future, and as better
meeting the requirements of a doctrine or theory than any other idea advanced
by metaphysical, theological, or philosophical thinkers.
But to the scientific
mind, or the minds of those who demand something in the nature of actual
experience of facts, no amount of reasonable abstract theorizing and
speculation is acceptable even in the way of a "working hypothesis,"
unless based upon some tangible "facts" or knowledge gained through
human experience. While people possessing such minds will usually admit freely
that the doctrine of Reincarnation is more logical than the opposing theories,
and that it fits better the requirements of the case, still they will maintain
that all theories regarding the soul must be based upon premises that cannot be
established by actual experience in human consciousness. They hold that in
absence of proof in experience—actual "facts"—these premises are not
established, and that all structures of reasoning based upon them must partake
of their insecurity. These people are like the slangy "man from
Missouri" who "wants to be shown"—nay, more, they are like the
companion of the above man—the Man from Texas, who not only says: "You've
got to show me," but who also demands that the thing be "placed
in my hand." And, after all, one has no right to criticize these
people—they are but manifesting the scientific spirit of the age which demands
facts as a basis for theories, rather than theories that need facts to prove
them. And, unless Reincarnation is able to satisfy the demands of this class of
thinkers, the advocates of the doctrine need not complain if the scientific
mind dismisses the doctrine as "not proven."
After all, the best
proof along the above mentioned lines—in fact, about the only possible strict
proof—is the fragmentary recollections of former lives, which many people
possess at times—these recollections often flashing across the mind, bringing
with it a conviction that the place or thing "has been experienced
before." Nearly every person has had glimpses of something that appeared
to be a recollection from the past life of the individual. We see places that
we have never known, and they seem perfectly familiar; we meet strangers, and
we are convinced that we have known them in the past; we read an old book
and feel that we have seen it before, often so much so that we can anticipate
the story or argument of the writer; we hear some strange philosophical
doctrine, and we recognize it as an old friend. Many people have had this
experience in the matter of Occultism—in the very matter of the doctrine of
Reincarnation itself—when they first heard it, although it struck them as
strange and unusual, yet they felt an inner conviction that it was an old story
to them—that they "had heard it all before." These experiences are by
far too common to be dismissed as mere fancy or coincidence. Nearly every
living person has had some experience along this line.
A recent writer along
the lines of Oriental Philosophy has said regarding this common experience of
the race: "Many people have had 'peculiar experiences' that are
accountable only upon the hypothesis of Metempsychosis. Who has not experienced
the consciousness of having felt the thing before—having thought it some time
in the dim past? Who has not witnessed new scenes that appear old, very
old? Who has not met persons for the first time, whose presence awakened
memories of a past lying far back in the misty ages of long ago? Who has not
been seized at times with the consciousness of a mighty 'oldness' of soul? Who
has not heard music, often entirely new compositions, which somehow awakened
memories of similar strains, scenes, places, faces, voices, lands,
associations, and events, sounding dimly on the strings of memory as the
breezes of the harmony floats over them? Who has not gazed at some old
painting, or piece of statuary, with the sense of having seen it all before?
Who has not lived through events which brought with them a certainty of being
merely a repetition of some shadowy occurrences away back in lives lived long
ago? Who has not felt the influence of the mountain, the sea, the desert,
coming to them when they are far from such scenes—coming so vividly as to cause
the actual scene of the present to fade into comparative unreality? Who has not
had these experiences?"
We have been informed
by Hindus well advanced in the occult theory and practice that it is quite a
common thing for people of their country to awaken to an almost complete
recollection of their former lives; in some cases they have related details of
former lives that have been fully verified by investigation in parts of the
land very remote from their present residence. In one case, a Hindu sage
related to us an instance where a poor Hindu, who had worked steadily in the
village in which he had been born, without leaving it, ever since his childhood
days. This man one day cried out that he had awakened to a recollection of
having been a man of such and such a village, in a province hundreds of miles
from his home. Some wealthy people became interested in the matter, and after
having taken down his statements in writing, and after careful examination and
questioning, they took him to the town in question. Upon entering the village
the man seemed dazed, and cried out: "Everything is changed—it is the same
and yet not the same!" Finally, however, he began to recognize some
of the old landmarks of the place, and to call the places and roads by their
names. Then, coming to a familiar corner, he cried: "Down there is my old
home," and, rushing down the road for several hundred yards, he finally
stopped before the ruins of an old cottage, and burst into tears, saying that
the roof of his home had fallen in, and the walls were crumbling to pieces.
Inquiry among the oldest men of the place brought to light the fact that when
these aged men were boys, the house had been occupied by an old man, bearing the
same name first mentioned by the Hindu as having been his own in his previous
life. Other facts about the former location of places in the village were
verified by the old men. Finally, while walking around the ruins, the man said:
"There should be a pot of silver buried there—I hid it there when I lived
here." The people rapidly uncovered the ground indicated, and brought to
light an old pot containing a few pieces of silver coin of a date corresponding
to the lifetime of the former occupant of the house. Our informant told us
that he had personal knowledge of a number of similar cases, none of which,
however, were quite as complete in detail as the one mentioned. He also
informed us that he himself, and a number of his acquaintances who had attained
certain degrees of occult unfoldment, were fully aware of their past lives for
several incarnations back.
Another instance came
under our personal observation, in which an American who had never been to
India, when taken into a room in which a Hindu priest who was visiting America
had erected a shrine or altar before which he performed his religious services,
readily recognized the arrangement of the details of worship, ritual, ceremony,
etc., and was conscious of having seen, or at least dreamed of seeing, a similar
shrine at some time in the past, and as having had some connection with the
same. The Hindu priest, upon hearing the American's remarks, stated that his
knowledge of the details of the shrine, as then expressed, indicated a
knowledge possible only to one who had served at a Hindu altar in some
capacity.
We know of another
case in which an acquaintance, a prominent attorney in the West, told us that
when undergoing his initiation in the Masonic order he had a full recollection
of having undergone the same before, and he actually anticipated each
successive step. This knowledge, however, ceased after he had passed beyond the
first three degrees which took him to the place where he was a full Master
Mason, the higher degrees being entirely new to him, and having been apparently
not experienced before. This man was not a believer in any doctrine of
Reincarnation, and related the incident merely as "one of those things
that no man can explain."
We know of another
case, in which a student of Hindu Philosophy and Oriental Occultism found that
he could anticipate each step of the teaching and doctrine, and each bit of
knowledge gained by him seemed merely a recollection of something known long
since. So true was this that he was able to supply the "missing
links" of the teaching, where he had not access to the proper sources
of information at the time, and in each case he afterward found that he had
stated the same correctly. And this included many points of the Inner Teachings
not generally taught to the general public, but reserved for the few.
Subsequent contact with native Hindu teachers brought to light the fact that he
had already unraveled many tangled skeins of doctrine deemed possible only to
the "elect."
Many of these
recollections of the past come as if they were memories of something
experienced in dreams, but sometimes after the loose end of the thought is
firmly grasped and mentally drawn out, other bits of recollection will follow.
Sir Walter Scott wrote in his diary in 1828: "I was strangely haunted by
what I would call the sense of pre-existence, 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."
William Home, an English writer, was instantly converted from materialism
to a belief in a spiritual existence by an incident that occurred to him in a
part of London utterly strange to him. He entered a waiting room, and to his
surprise everything seemed familiar to him. As he says: "I seemed to
recognize every object. I said to myself, what is this? I have never been here
before, and yet I have seen all this, and if so, there is a very peculiar knot
in that shutter." He then crossed the room, and opened the shutter, and
after examination he saw the identical peculiar knot that he had felt sure was
there. Pythagoras is said to have distinctly remembered a number of his
previous incarnations, and at one time pointed out a shield in a Grecian temple
as having been carried by him in a previous incarnation at the siege of Troy. A
well-known ancient Hindu sage is said to have transcribed a lost sacred book of
doctrine from memory of its study in a previous life. Children often talk
strangely of former lives, which ideas, however, are generally frightened out
of them by reproof on the part of parents, and often punishment for
untruthfulness and romancing. As they grow older these memories fade away.
People traveling in
strange places often experience emotion when viewing some particular scene, and
memory seems to painfully struggle to bring into the field of consciousness the
former connection between the scene and the individual. Many persons have
testified to these occurrences, many of them being matter-of-fact,
unimaginative people, who had never even heard of the doctrine of
Reincarnation. Charles Dickens, in one of his books of foreign travel, tells of
a bridge in Italy which produced a peculiar effect upon him. He says: "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." Another recorded instance is that of a person entering a foreign
library for the first time. Passing to the department of ancient books, he
said that he had a dim idea that a certain rare book was to be found on such a
shelf, in such a corner, describing at the same time certain peculiarities of
the volume. A search failed to discover the volume in the stated place, but
investigation showed that it was in another place in the library, and an old
assistant stated that a generation back it had been moved from its former place
(as stated by the visitor), where it had been previously located for very many
years. An examination of the volume showed a perfect correspondence in every
detail with the description of the strange visitor.
And so the story
proceeds. Reference to the many works written on the subject of the future life
of the soul will supply many more instances of the glimpses of recollection of
past incarnations. But why spread these instances over more pages? The
experience of other people, while of scientific interest and value as affording
a basis for a theory or doctrine, will never supply the experience that the
close and rigid investigator demands. Only his own experiences will satisfy
him—and perhaps not even those, for he may consider them delusions. These
experiences of others have their principal value as corroborative proofs of
one's own experiences, and thus serve to prove that the individual experience
was not abnormal, unusual, or a delusion. To those who have not had these
glimpses of recollection, the only proof that can be offered is the usual
arguments in favor of the doctrine, and the account of the experiences of
others—this may satisfy, and may not. But to those who have had these
glimpses—particularly in a marked degree—there will come a feeling of certainty
and conviction that in some cases is as real as the certainty and conviction of
the present existence, and which will be proof against all argument to the
contrary. To such people the knowledge of previous existences is as much a
matter of consciousness as the fact of the existence of last year—yesterday—a
moment ago—or even the present moment, which slips away while we attempt to
consider it. And those who have this consciousness of past lives, even
though the details may be vague, intuitively accept the teachings regarding the
future lives of the soul. The soul that recognizes its "oldness" also
feels its certainty of survival—not as a mere matter of faith, but as an item
of consciousness, the boundaries of time being transcended.
But there are other
arguments advanced in favor of Reincarnation, which its advocates consider so
strong as to entitle them to be classed as "proofs." Among these may
be mentioned the difference in tastes, talents, predispositions, etc.,
noticeable among children and adults, and which can scarcely be attributed to
heredity. This same idea carries one to the consideration of the question of
"youthful genius," "prodigies," etc.
It is a part of this
argument to assume that if all souls were freshly created, by the same Creator,
and from the same material, they would resemble each other very closely, and in
fact would be practically identical. And, it is urged, the fact that every
child is different in tastes, temperament, qualities, nature, etc., independent
of heredity and environment, then it must follow that the difference must be
sought for further back. Children of the same parents differ very materially in
nature, disposition, etc.; in fact, strangers are often more alike than
children of the same parents, born within a few years of each other, and reared
in the same environment. Those having much experience with young babies know
that each infant has its own nature and disposition, and in which it differs
from every other infant, although they may be classed into groups, of course.
The infant a few hours born shows a gentleness, or a lack of it—a yielding or a
struggle, a disposition to adjust itself, or a stubbornness, etc. And as the
child grows, these traits show more plainly, and the nature of the individual
asserts itself, subject, of course, to a moulding and shaping, but always
asserting its original character in some way.
Not only in the
matter of disposition but in the matter of tastes, tendencies, moral
inclinations, etc., do the children differ. Some like this, and dislike
that, and the reverse; some are attracted toward this and repelled by that, and
the reverse; some are kind while others are cruel; some manifest an innate
sense of refinement, while others show coarseness and lack of delicate feeling.
This among children of the same family, remember. And, when the child enters
school, we find this one takes to mathematics as the duck does to water, while
its brother loathes the subject; the anti-arithmetic child may excel in history
or geography, or else grammar, which is the despair of others. Some are at once
attracted to music, and others to drawing, while both of these branches are
most distasteful to others. And it will be noticed that in the studies to which
the child is attracted, it seems to learn almost without effort, as if it were
merely re-learning some favorite study, momentarily forgotten. And in the case
of the disliked study, every step is attended with toil. In some cases the
child seems to learn every branch with the minimum effort, and with practically
no effort; while in other cases the child has to plod wearily over every
branch, as if breaking entirely new ground. And this continues into after life,
when the adult finds this thing or that thing into which he naturally fits as
if it were made for him, the knowledge concerning it coming to him like the
lesson of yesterday.
We know of a case in
which a man had proved a failure in everything he had undertaken up to the age
of forty, when his father-in-law, in disgust, placed him at the head of an
enterprise which he had had to "take over" for a bad debt. The
"failure" immediately took the keenest interest in the work, and in a
month knew more about it than many men who had been in the concern for years.
His mind found itself perfectly at home, and he made improvement after
improvement rapidly, and with uniform success. He had found his work, and in a
few years stepped to the front rank in the country in that particular line of
business. "Blessed is he that hath found his work." Reincarnationists
would hold that that man had found his work in a line similar in its mental
demands with that of his former life or lives—not necessarily identical in
details, but similar in its mental requirement. Instances of this thing are to
be seen all around us. Heredity does not seem to account for it—nor does
environment answer the requirements. Some other factor is there—is it
Reincarnation?
Allied to this
phenomena is that of "youthful genius"—in fact, genius of any age,
for that matter, for genius itself seems to be out of the category of the
ordinary cause of heredity and environment, and to have its roots in some
deeper, richer soil. It is a well-known fact that now and then a child is born
which at a very early age shows an acquaintance with certain arts, or other
branches of mental work, which is usually looked for only from those of
advanced years, and after years of training. In many cases these children are
born of parents and grandparents deficient in the particular branches of
knowledge evidenced by the child. Babes scarcely able to sit on the piano
stool, or to hold the violin, have begun to play in a way that certainly
indicated previous knowledge and technique, often composing original
productions in an amazing manner. Other young children have begun to draw and design
without any instruction whatever. Others have shown wonderful mathematical
ability, there being several cases on record where such children have performed
feats in mathematics impossible to advanced adults teaching the same lines.
What are the cause of these phenomena? Is it Reincarnation?
As Figuier said,
years ago: "We hear it said every day that one child has a mathematical,
another a musical, another an artistic turn. In others we notice savage,
violent, even criminal instincts. After the first years of life these
dispositions break out. When these natural aptitudes are pushed beyond the
usual limit, we find famous examples that history has cherished, and that we
love to recall. There is Pascal, mastering at the age of twelve years the
greater part of Plane Geometry without any instruction, and not a figment of
Calculus, drawing on the floor of his chamber all the figures in the first
book of Euclid, estimating accurately the mathematical relations of them
all—that is, reconstructing for himself a part of descriptive Geometry; the
herdsman Mangia Melo, manipulating figures, when five years old, as rapidly as
a calculating machine; Mozart, executing a sonata on the pianoforte with
four-years-old fingers, and composing an opera at the age of eight; Theresa
Milanollo, playing the violin at four years, with such eminent skill that
Baillot said she must have played it before she was born; Rembrandt, drawing
with masterly power before he could read." The same authority says, in
reference to the fact that some of these prodigies do not become famous in
their after years, and that their genius often seems to flicker out, leaving
them as ordinary children: "That is easily understood. They come on earth
with remarkable powers acquired in an anterior existence, but they have done
nothing to develop their aptitudes; they have remained all their lives at the
very point where they were at the moment of their birth. The real man of
genius is he who cultivates and improves incessantly the great natural
aptitudes that he brought into the world."
There is an
interesting field for study, thought and investigation, along the lines of the
early development of traits, tendencies, and thought in young children. Here
evidently will be found the answer to many problems that have perplexed the
race. It is true that heredity and environment plays an important part, but
nevertheless, there seems to be another element working in the case, which
science must have to reckon with in making up its final conclusions. Is that
"something" connected with the "soul" rather than the mind
of the child? Is that "something" that which men call
Metempsychosis—Re-Birth—Reincarnation?
Along the same lines,
or thought, lie the great questions of instinctive Like and Dislike—Loves and
Hates—that we find among people meeting as strangers. From whence come those
strange, unaccountable attractions and repulsions that many feel
when meeting certain strangers, who could never have occasioned such
feelings in the present life, and which heredity does not account for? Is it
merely an absurd, irrational, fancy or feeling; is it the result of natures
inharmonious and discordant; is it remnants of inherited ancestral feelings
toward similar individuals hated, loved or feared; is it a telepathic sensing
of certain elements in the other; or is it a manifestation of the feelings
experienced in a past existence? Is this phenomena to be included in the Proofs
of Reincarnation? Many people think that in Reincarnation the only answer may
be found.
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