lecture03-第3部分

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＇25＇　E。　Gurney：　　Phantasms　of　the　Living；　i。　384。















Professor　Flournoy　of　Geneva　gives　me　the　following　testimony　of



a　friend　of　his；　a　lady；　who　has　the　gift　of　automatic　or



involuntary　writing：







〃Whenever　I　practice　automatic　writing；　what　makes　me　feel　that



it　is　not　due　to　a　subconscious　self　is　the　feeling　I　always　have



of　a　foreign　presence；　external　to　my　body。　　It　is　sometimes　so



definitely　characterized　that　I　could　point　to　its　exact



position。　　This　impression　of　presence　is　impossible　to　describe。



It　varies　in　intensity　and　clearness　according　to　the　personality



from　whom　the　writing　professes　to　come。　　If　it　is　some　one　whom



I　love；　I　feel　it　immediately；　before　any　writing　has　come。　　My



heart　seems　to　recognize　it。〃







In　an　earlier　book　of　mine　I　have　cited　at　full　length　a　curious



case　of　presence　felt　by　a　blind　man。　　The　presence　was　that　of



the　figure　of　a　gray…bearded　man　dressed　in　a　pepper　and　salt



suit；　squeezing　himself　under　the　crack　of　the　door　and　moving



across　the　floor　of　the　room　towards　a　sofa。　　The　blind　subject



of　this　quasi…hallucination　is　an　exceptionally　intelligent



reporter。　　He　is　entirely　without　internal　visual　imagery　and



cannot　represent　light　or　colors　to　himself；　and　is　positive　that



his　other　senses；　hearing；　etc。；　were　not　involved　in　this　false



perception。　　It　seems　to　have　been　an　abstract　conception　rather；



with　the　feelings　of　reality　and　spatial　outwardness　directly



attached　to　itin　other　words；　a　fully　objectified　and



exteriorized　IDEA。







Such　cases；　taken　along　with　others　which　would　be　too　tedious



for　quotation；　seem　sufficiently　to　prove　the　existence　in　our



mental　machinery　of　a　sense　of　present　reality　more　diffused　and



general　than　that　which　our　special　senses　yield。　　For　the



psychologists　the　tracing　of　the　organic　seat　of　such　a　feeling



would　form　a　pretty　problemnothing　could　be　more　natural　than



to　connect　it　with　the　muscular　sense；　with　the　feeling　that　our



muscles　were　innervating　themselves　for　action。　　Whatsoever　thus



innervated　our　activity；　or　〃made　our　flesh　creep〃our　senses



are　what　do　so　oftenestmight　then　appear　real　and　present；　even



though　it　were　but　an　abstract　idea。　　But　with　such　vague



conjectures　we　have　no　concern　at　present；　for　our　interest　lies



with　the　faculty　rather　than　with　its　organic　seat。







Like　all　positive　affections　of　consciousness；　the　sense　of



reality　has　its　negative　counterpart　in　the　shape　of　a　feeling　of



unreality　by　which　persons　may　be　haunted；　and　of　which　one



sometimes　hears　complaint：







〃When　I　reflect　on　the　fact　that　I　have　made　my　appearance　by



accident　upon　a　globe　itself　whirled　through　space　as　the　sport



of　the　catastrophes　of　the　heavens；〃　says　Madame　Ackermann；　〃when



I　see　myself　surrounded　by　beings　as　ephemeral　and



incomprehensible　as　I　am　myself；　and　all　excitedly　pursuing　pure



chimeras；　I　experience　a　strange　feeling　of　being　in　a　dream。　　It



seems　to　me　as　if　I　have　loved　and　suffered　and　that　erelong　I



shall　die；　in　a　dream。　　My　last　word　will　be；　'I　have　been



dreaming。'〃＇26＇







＇26＇　Pensees　d'un　Solitaire；　p。　66。















In　another　lecture　we　shall　see　how　in　morbid　melancholy　this



sense　of　the　unreality　of　things　may　become　a　carking　pain；　and



even　lead　to　suicide。







We　may　now　lay　it　down　as　certain　that　in　the　distinctively



religious　sphere　of　experience；　many　persons　（how　many　we　cannot



tell）　possess　the　objects　of　their　belief；　not　in　the　form　of



mere　conceptions　which　their　intellect　accepts　as　true；　but



rather　in　the　form　of　quasi…sensible　realities　directly



apprehended。　　As　his　sense　of　the　real　presence　of　these　objects



fluctuates；　so　the　believer　alternates　between　warmth　and



coldness　in　his　faith。　　Other　examples　will　bring　this　home　to



one　better　than　abstract　description；　so　I　proceed　immediately　to



cite　some。　　The　first　example　is　a　negative　one；　deploring　the



loss　of　the　sense　in　question。　　I　have　extracted　it　from　an



account　given　me　by　a　scientific　man　of　my　acquaintance；　of　his



religious　life。　　It　seems　to　me　to　show　clearly　that　the　feeling



of　reality　may　be　something　more　like　a　sensation　than　an



intellectual　operation　properly　so…called。







〃Between　twenty　and　thirty　I　gradually　became　more　and　more



agnostic　and　irreligious；　yet　I　cannot　say　that　I　ever　lost　that



'indefinite　consciousness'　which　Herbert　Spencer　describes　so



well；　of　an　Absolute　Reality　behind　phenomena。　　For　me　this



Reality　was　not　the　pure　Unknowable　of　Spencer's　philosophy；　for



although　I　had　ceased　my　childish　prayers　to　God；　and　never



prayed　to　IT　in　a　formal　manner；　yet　my　more　recent　experience



shows　me　to　have　been　in　a　relation　to　IT　which　practically　was



the　same　thing　as　prayer。　　Whenever　I　had　any　trouble；　especially



when　I　had　conflict　with　other　people；　either　domestically　or　in



the　way　of　business；　or　when　I　was　depressed　in　spirits　or



anxious　about　affairs；　I　now　recognize　that　I　used　to　fall　back



for　support　upon　this　curious　relation　I　felt　myself　to　be　in　to



this　fundamental　cosmical　IT。　　It　was　on　my　side；　or　I　was　on　Its



side；　however　you　please　to　term　it；　in　the　particular　trouble；



and　it　always　strengthened　me　and　seemed　to　give　me　endless



vitality　to　feel　its　underlying　and　supporting　presence。　　In



fact；　it　was　an　unfailing　fountain　of　living　justice；　truth；　and



strength；　to　which　I　instinctively　turned　at　times　of　weakness；



and　it　always　brought　me　out。　　I　know　now　that　it　was　a　personal



relation　I　was　in　to　it；　because　of　late　years　the　power　of



communicating　with　it　has　left　me；　and　I　am　conscious　of　a



perfectly　definite　loss。　　I　used　never　to　fail　to　find　it　when　I



turned　to　it。　　Then　came　a　set　of　years　when　sometimes　I　found



it；　and　then　again　I　would　be　wholly　unable　to　make　connection



with　it。　　I　remember　many　occasions　on　which　at　night　in　bed；　I



would　be　unable　to　get　to　sleep　on　account　of　worry。　　I　turned



this　way　and　that　in　the　darkness；　and　groped　mentally　for　the



familiar　sense　of　that　higher　mind　of　my　mind　which　had　always



seemed　to　be　close　at　hand　as　it　were；　closing　the　passage；　and



yielding　support；　but　there　was　no　electric　current。　　A　blank　was



there　instead　of　IT：　　I　couldn't　find　anything。　　Now；　at　the　age



of　nearly　fifty；　my　power　of　getting　into　connection　with　it　has



entirely　left　me；　and　I　have　to　confess　that　a　great　help　has



gone　out　of　my　life。　　Life　has　become　curiously　dead　and　



indifferent；　and　I　can　now　see　that　my　old　experience　was



probably　exactly　the　same　thing　as　the　prayers　of　the　orthodox；



only　I　did　not　call　them　by　that　name。　　What　I　have　spoken　of　as



'It'　was　practically　not　Spencer's　Unknowable；　but　just　my　own



instinctive　and　individual　God；　whom　I　relied　upon　for　higher



sympathy；　but　whom　somehow　I　have　lost。〃







Nothing　is　more　common　in　the　pages　of　religious　biography　than



the　way　in　which　seasons　of　lively　and　of　difficult　faith　are



described　as　alternating。　　Probably　every　religious　person　has



the　recollection　of　particular　crisis　in　which　a　directer　vision



of　the　truth；　a　direct　perception；　perhaps；　of　a　living　God's



existence；　swept　in　and　overwhelmed　the　languor　of　the　more



ordinary　belief。　　In　James　Russell　Lowell's　correspondence　there



is　a　brief　memorandum　of　an　experience　of　this　kind：







〃I　had　a　revelation　last　Friday　evening。　　I　was　at　Mary's；　and



happening　to　say　something　of　the　presence　of　spirits　（of　whom；　I



said；　I　was　often　dimly　aware）；　Mr。　Putnam　entered　into　an



argument　with　me　on　spiritual　matters。　　As　I　was　speaking；　the



whole　system　rose　up　before　me　like　a　vague　destiny　looming　from



the　Abyss。　　I　never　before　so　clearly　felt　the　Spirit　of　God　in



me　and　around　rue。　　The　whole　room　seemed　to　me　full　of　God。　　The



air　seemed　to　waver　to　and　fro　with　the　presence　of　Something　I



knew　not　what。　　I　spoke　with　the　calmness　and　clearness　of　a



prophet。　　I　cannot　tell　you　what　this　revelation　was。　　I　have　not



yet　studied　it　enough。　　But　I　shall　perfect　it　one　day；　and　then



you　shall　hear　it　and　acknowledge　its　grandeur。〃＇27＇







＇27＇　Letters　of　Lowell；　i。　75。















　Here　is　a　longer　and　more　developed　experience　from　a



manuscript　communication　by　a　clergymanI　take　it　from



Starbuck's　manuscript　collection：







〃I　remember　the　night；　and　almost　the　very　spot　on　the　hill…top；



where　my　soul　opened　out；　as　it　were；　into　the　Infinite；　and



there　was　a　rushing　together　of　the　two　worlds；　the　inner　and　the



outer。　　It　was　deep　calling　unto　deepthe　deep　that　my　own



struggle　had　opened　up　within　being　answered　by　the　unfathomable



deep　without；　reaching　beyond　the　stars。　　I　stood　alone　with　Him



who　had　made　me；　and　all　the　beauty　of　the　world；　and　love；　and



sorrow；　and　even　temptation。　　I　did　not　seek　Him；　but　felt　the



perfect　unison　of　my　spirit　with　His。　　The　ordinary　sense　of



things　around　me　faded。　　For　the　moment　nothing　but　an　ineffable



joy　and　exultation　remained。　　It　is　impossible　fully　to　describe



the　experience。　　It　was　like　the　effect　of　some　great　orchestra



when　all　the　separate　notes　have　melted　into　one　swelling　harmony



that　leaves　the　listener　conscious　of　nothing　save　that　his　soul



is　being　wafted　upwards；　and　almost　bursting　with　its　own



emotion。　　The　perfect　stillne