The Arena
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A gentleman of this city (whom I will call John Smith, but whose real
name was a more uncommon one) with whom Mr. U. had been acquainted
many years, but of whose family relations he knew little, died here
more than a year ago. Mr. U. had met him but once in the year previous
to his death, he having been away on account of failing health,
staying, we understood, with a daughter recently married, whose home
was in Florida. The first name of this married daughter, or of any of
Mr. Smith's daughters except one, was unknown to Mr. U. I had met one
of his daughters whose name I knew to be Jennie. I also knew that
there was another named Violet. I was not sure, however, whether this
was the name of the married one, or of another unmarried, but had the
impression that Violet was unmarried. One evening, while waiting for
automatic writing with no thought of Mr. Smith in my mind, and Mr. U.
sitting near me at the table with his thoughts concentrated on an
article he was preparing, this was written: "John Smith will now enter
into conversation with B. F. Underwood." I read this to Mr. U. who
laid aside his pen, and in order to test the matter, asked if Mr.
Smith remembered the last time they met, soon after his return from
the South, and a short time previous to his death. There was some
delay in the answer, but soon reply came "On Madison St." "Whereabouts
on Madison?" was asked. "Near Washington." "At what hour?" "About 10
A. M., raining." As it was rarely that Mr. U. was in that part of the
city at so early an hour, and especially on a rainy day, I doubted the
correctness of this reply, but Mr. U. recalled to my mind the unusual
circumstance which made it necessary for him to be in that vicinity on
the day and at the hour named, on which he and Mr. Smith, he
distinctly remembered, last met. Only a few words passed between them
on account of the rain. After this, writing, purporting to be from Mr.
Smith, came frequently. Very soon something was written which induced
Mr. U. half sportively to inquire whether there was anything which
troubled Mr. Smith, anything which he wished he had done but had
omitted, before his death. The answer came, "One thing--change deeds
on Violet's account. None of my wife's are at my daughter's disposal.
All in her own disposal." Mr. U. asked if it was meant that he had not
left his property--for he was a man of some wealth--as he now wished
he had. "You are right," was written, "want all my girls to share
alike." "Which daughter do you refer to?" was asked. "Went away from
her in Florida--Violet," was the answer. I remarked, "Why, I thought
Violet was one of the unmarried girls, but it must be that that is the
name of the married daughter." Then Mr. U. was strongly urged to call
on Mr. Smith's married son, James, with whom Mr. U. had a slight
acquaintance, and tell him of this communication. "Clearly state my
desire that my daughter Violet share equally with her sisters." Of
course this was utterly out of the question. At that time we had no
intention of informing any one of our psychic experience, and if we
had, Mr. James Smith would have thought us insane or impertinent to
come to him with so ridiculous a story, the truth of which we
ourselves strongly doubted. Pages were, however, written concerning
the matter in so earnest and pleading a manner that I came to feel
conscience-stricken at refusing to do what was asked, and to shrink
from seeing Mr. Smith's name appear. Once was written, "Say to James
that in my new position, and with my new views of life, I feel that I
did wrong to treat his sister Violet as I did. She was not to blame
for following out her own convictions, when I had inculcated
independent thought and action for all." This and other sentences of
the kind seemed to convey the idea that Violet had in some way
incurred his displeasure by doing according to her own will in
opposition to his. This was puzzling to us, as we knew that in her
marriage, at least, the daughter we thought to be Violet had followed
her father's wishes.
A few weeks later, however, came an unlooked-for verification of Mr.
Smith's messages. In a conversation between Mr. U. and a business
friend of Mr. Smith, who was well acquainted with all his affairs,
regret was expressed that so wealthy a man had left so little for a
certain purpose. Mr. U. then inquired as to what disposition had been
made of his property, and was told that he had left it mainly to his
wife and children--so much to this one, and that. "But Violet,"
continued Mr. U.'s informant, "was left only a small amount, as Mr.
Smith was angry because she married against his wishes." "Why,"
remarked Mr. U., "I understood that he approved of the match, and the
fact that he accompanied herself and husband to Florida, and remained
with them some time, would seem to indicate that." "Oh, you are
thinking of Lucy, the eldest girl; her marriage was all right, but
Violet, one of the younger daughters, going to Florida with her
husband, fell in love with a young man of whom her father did not
approve, so she made a runaway marriage, and on account of his
displeasure, Mr. Smith left her only a small sum." The intelligence
writing was aware of facts unknown, to either Mr. U. or myself, and no
other persons were in the room when these communications were given.
One evening one of us spoke of the frequently false and mischievous
statements purporting to come from spirits--predictions which did not
come to pass, descriptions which were wholly wrong, and sending
credulous believers on wild-goose chases after hidden treasure, etc.,
the occasion being an untrue statement made to us in regard to the
death of a friend who was alive and well. We asked if this unseen
intelligence would explain why this was allowed. Reply came promptly,
"Rather tough problem. There are certain phases of our existence here
which are not explainable to you on your plane, and the test we were
obliged to make of your credulity was one of these." We protested
against such tests, and I declared that I would not try to receive
communications if they practised deception. "Why do you protest," was
written, "when you already know you are but a tyro in this phase of
being? You don't now willingly do the work assigned you, and B. F. U.
is still harder to manage." Thereupon Mr. U. suggested "that without
sense organs and a material environment, conditions would be such,
perhaps, that they could not be expressed in terms known to us, nor be
even conceived by us." Immediately was written: "Many wish to answer
B. F. U.'s clear statement of the difficulties in the way of spirit
intercourse with those still in the flesh, but now comes the one soul
capable of clear answer. Blessed be they who question--gone." Next
came this--"Boehme wants to reply." Here I have to confess that never
having paid much attention to occult or mystical literature the name
Boehme was utterly unknown to me, and at this point I asked Mr. U.,
"Did you ever hear of anyone by the name of B-o-e-h-m-e?" spelling the
word. "Certainly," he replied, "Jacob Boehme, he was a German thinker
who died--" my hand began to move just then, and he paused, and while
the following was being written my mind reverted hazily to a German
philosophical writer, who had died within a few years, and of whose
life one of our friends had written a sketch. His name began with B,
and I thought he was the one Mr. U. referred to, as I had forgotten
what the full name was. I say this to explain that there could be no
thought-transference in this instance from Mr. U.'s mind to mine. This
was written rapidly. "Death and life are but two phases of one truth,
and when what mankind calls death comes, it is as we experience the
change that all our circumscribed relations to banded universalities
become clear; but when we try to explain to those not yet beyond man's
sphere we find ourselves at a loss because there is nothing parallel
in this state of existence with your knowledge." Afterwards Mr. U.
showed me in the encyclopaedia a sketch of him (the name spelled Bohme,
and in several other ways) in which it was stated "he had a very
fertile imagination, and a remarkable faculty of intuition, and
professed to be divinely inspired," and that he died in 1624. Since
then I have found another sketch of his life which says that "owing to
the fantastic terminology he thought fit to adopt, his writings are
condemned by many as utterly unintelligible." This may explain the
"Banded Universalities," a phrase I never in my life saw before, and
only dimly understand now; I had never to my knowledge read a word of
his writings. In my case, as in that of many who profess to give
spirit messages, frequently names of dead thinkers and heroes are
signed. I protested against this, saying I did not believe that these
individuals were the ones who communicated, and asked for some
explanation. Immediately this answer was written: "Elaine and
Guinevere were not real beings but types--so somewhere in our sphere
are spirits who embody cleverness in creations of their fancy, and
adopt names suited to their ideas." Since this explanation was given,
I have had more patience with the communications signed by great
names, since I have imagined that these are types aspired to by the
real writers. But their "cleverness in creations of their fancy"
extends sometimes to fair imitations of the thought and style of those
whose names they borrow. For instance, since Elizabeth Barrett
Browning is one of my favorite poets, it is not at all strange that
her name and that of her husband might be suggested by my own mind; my
own mind ought also to suggest the thought of the following, written
as from Mrs. Browning, though the phraseology is not mine. "Robert
gave me life. He gave me to Love. He and I are but two sides of one
individuality. We both understand this, as you understand it." But
then followed without any apparent pause for a word, this:--
"Let your own hearts deeply feel
The sweet songs of older lovers,
So shall song and sense appeal
To all that true emotion covers."
I never saw these lines anywhere, and I doubt whether anyone has seen
them before, while I am confident that I did not compose them. I had
not then read Browning's "One Word More," but two days later in a
magazine article I came across a quotation from that poem in which
occurs the phrase "older lovers," the magazine having been brought to
the house that day, and two days after the verse was written. A day or
two later at the close of a communication from an entirely different
source, and one in no way suggestive of Browning, the words, "One Word
More" were rapidly written, followed by this verse:--
"Round goes the world as song-birds go,
There comes an age of overthrow--
Strange dreams come true, yet still we dream
Of deeper depths in Life's swift stream."
This I did not compose, nor had I ever heard or seen it before.
One evening it was promised that "Brain workers of philosophical bent"
would answer our questions. The first question asked was, "From your
standpoint do you consider death the end of conscious existence?"
_Ans._--"Death we know only as a phrase used to indicate change of
environment."
_Ques._--"Is death expected on your plane as on ours, or do all
understand that the next change is progressive?"
_Ans._--"Slow are even those on our plane to understand the law of
unending evolution."
_Ques._--"But we may apprehend what we do not fully understand or
comprehend?"
_Ans._--"Comprehension sees farther than understanding. Comprehend
means complete understanding."
_Ques._--"Do you mean that comprehension is a word of wider
significance than understanding?"
_Ans._--"You are right."
I had never given any thought to the difference between the words
"understanding" and "comprehending," and when this was written was not
satisfied in my own mind that comprehend did mean more than
understand. On the following day I consulted Worcester's Unabridged
Dictionary and to my surprise, under the word "comprehend" found this
note: "Comprehend has a more extensive meaning than understand or
apprehend." So in this case, as in several others I have not time to
cite here, the intelligence which moved my hand to write gave me
knowledge which I did not myself possess. Very often in place of
writing, all I could get from them would be spiral lines. Sometimes a
page would be crossed and recrossed with these lines as if with some
definite purpose. This suggested to me the possibility that such lines
held some meaning unknown to me, and I put the question. The answer
was given, "We have different modes of thought from yours--and the
spiral signs are most in use with us: Some of our less advanced
scientists forget that on your plane our mode of control is not
understood by you. Lines are made of such esoteric meaning that, while
we understand at a glance, it is impossible for those on your plane to
perceive any words." Mr. Underwood here remarked: "There are numerous
spirals--all modifications of the primary straight line."
_Ans._--"Yes, the spiral is a primal law, simple yet complex, which we
who understand life's manifold ascensions grow to symbolize in our
thought, language, and writing."
I am warned by the length of this paper that I must close without
being able to give one tenth part of the many strange and surprising
revelations, or statements, philosophical and other, which we have
gained from this strange source. I have confined myself to those which
show most strongly evidence of an intelligence outside of Mr. U. or
myself, the only two persons who have been concerned in obtaining
them. To me personally these are _not_ the most wonderful phases of
this influence. The reasonable explanations given of the laws
governing another state of human existence, but very little different
from this except in being a step forward in the direction of
Mind--that is to me the most wonderful, but of that I cannot speak
here.
I know that my experience at this time is by no means exceptional.
Before I had ever said one word to any human being except Mr. U. in
regard to it, there came to me a confidential letter from a valued
friend in another State, a lady of intellect and culture, confessing
that like, but far more varied, phenomena were occurring through her.
Like myself her position had been that of an agnostic, and the
communications to her are very similar to those I have obtained. I had
not heard from her in a year previous to the receipt of this letter. I
have been told of two or three other cases, so far unknown to the
public, all occurring within the year, and to non-spiritualists. And I
judge from magazine articles written by such well-known people as O.
B. Frothingham, Elizabeth Phelps Ward, and M. J. Savage, as well as
from public utterances of Mrs. Livermore and others, that this wave of
communication from some not fully understood source is far more
extensive than is generally suspected. It is, therefore, time that all
whose opinions may have weight, who have personal knowledge of such
phenomena, relate what they have seen or experienced in order that
these experiences may be compared, and the real source from which they
emanate may be discovered, if possible.
One other strange experience in this line came to me a few years ago
at the bedside of a dear friend at the point of death, which, perhaps,
may be related in this connection. It was near midnight; death was
momentarily expected. All the other watchers, exhausted by days of
grief and care, were snatching an hour of rest; and I stood alone
looking at the unconscious face before me which was distinctly
visible, though the light was heavily shaded to keep the glare from
the dying eyes. All her life my friend had been a Christian believer,
with an unwavering faith in a life beyond this, and for her sake a
bitter grief came upon me because, so far as I could see, there were
no grounds for that belief. I thought I could more easily let her go
out into the unknown if I could but feel that her hope would be
realized, and I put into words this feeling. I pleaded that if there
were any of her own departed ones present at this supreme moment could
they not and would they not give me some least sign that such was the
fact, and I would be content. Slowly over the dying one's face spread
a mellow radiant mist--I know no other way to describe it. In a few
moments it covered the dying face as with a veil, and spread in a
circle of about a foot beyond, over the pillow, the strange
yellowish-white light all the more distinct from the partial darkness
of the room. Then from the centre of this, immediately over the hidden
face, appeared an apparently living face with smiling eyes which
looked directly into mine, gazing at me with a look so full of
comforting assurance that I could scarcely feel frightened. But it was
so real and so strange that I wondered if I were temporarily crazed,
and as it disappeared I called a watcher from another room, and went
out into the open air for a few moments to recover myself under the
midnight stars. When I was sure of myself I returned and took my place
again alone. Then I asked that, if that appearance were real and not
an hallucination, would it be made once more manifest to me; and again
the phenomenon was repeated, and the kind, smiling face looked up at
me--a face new to me yet wondrously familiar. Afterwards I recalled my
friend's frequent description of her dead father whom she dearly
loved, but whom I had never seen, and I could not help the impression
that it was his face I saw the hour that his daughter died.
A DECADE OF RETROGRESSION.
BY FLORENCE KELLEY WISCHNEWETZKY.
During the ten years which ended with 1889, the great metropolis of
the western continent added to the assessed valuation of its taxable
property almost half a billion dollars.
In all other essential respects save one, the decade was a period of
retrogression for New York City. Crime, pauperism, insanity, and
suicide increased; repression by brute force personified in an armed
police was fostered, while the education of the children of the masses
ebbed lower and lower. The standing army of the homeless swelled to
twelve thousand nightly lodgers in a single precinct, and forty
thousand children were forced to toil for scanty bread.
Prostitution, legalized in the purchase of besmirched foreign titles
and forced upon the attention of youth in the corrupting annals of the
daily press, was flaunted publicly as never before. Scientists
competed for the infamous distinction of inventing appliances for
murder by electricity, while in the domain of politics the sale of
votes in the closing years of the decade was more notorious than at
any period of the city's history. In a society in which all things are
commodities to be had for money, the labor power of stalwart men and
tiny children, the innocence of delicately cherished girlhood, the
marriage tie, the virtue of the servant, and the manhood of the
statesman, it is eminently fitting that the record of progress should
be kept officially in dollars and cents.
This is done in all our communities in the report of the disbursing
officer who is known in New York City under the title of the
Comptroller. His report shows what money the city spends, the sources
from which it is derived, and the purposes for which it is used. The
following data taken from statement "G" of his report for '89, may be
readily verified, and will prove, upon examination of the original, to
be but few among many conspicuous indications of retrogression.
Expressed in dollars and cents, then, the growth of pauperism and
crime was such in the decade which began with 1880, that we now spend
more than a million each year in excess of the sum spent then for the
same purposes. If we have grown in population so rapidly that the
percentages remain unchanged, the fact cannot be ascertained for want
of data. Nor is it important. The weighty fact is this, that pauperism
and crime have gained upon us. Riches are greater and poverty is
greater.
The moral and social retrogression indicated in this item of the
Comptroller's report is thrown into bold relief by another item, the
expenditures for schools. While the paupers and criminals have grown
upon us by an annual expenditure of more than a million in excess of
the sum needed in 1879, the school children's share of the public
funds has grown by less than a million in excess of the requirements
of 1879.
More shameful still is this retrogression when the item of police
expenditure is considered, for this exceeds outright the appropriation
for the Department of Education, and has grown more rapidly than the
expenditure for schools. It appears that, under existing conditions,
when property appreciates half a billion in value, it is necessary to
have four and one half millions' worth of police to watch over and
protect the half-billions' increase in assessed value from the ravages
of our paupers and criminals.
It seems also that in 1879 our police cost less than our schools,
while they now cost more. The problem assumes a still greater aspect
when the expenditure for paupers, criminals, and police are taken
together, for it then appears that they cost nearly twice as much as
the schools.
Thus the community is clearly moving in the direction of more
demoralized masses of population kept in check by the brute force of
an armed police, since each year the excess grows which is spent for
paupers, criminals, and police over the expenditure for education.
One retrogressive influence fails to find positive official
expression, and is, therefore, the more worthy of notice. This is the
collusion among officials to reduce primary school attendance. The
Board of Estimate and Apportionment never approves the full
appropriation made for the schools. The Board of Education strives to
live well within the sum allowed it, and crowds the greatest possible
number of children upon each teacher, the regular enrolment being
seventy primary pupils per teacher. Then to parry the charge of
over-filling schoolrooms, it becomes the duty of the principal to
reduce the enrolment per schoolhouse to the lowest point. Therefore,
when a zealous Sunday-school teacher finds that one of her little
charges has gone to work under age, the offices of the city's solitary
factory inspector being out of the question, she hunts up a truant
officer, who takes the child before a magistrate, who, in view of the
want of school accommodations, promptly discharges the truant. Behind
our local municipal administration lies our whole system of
capitalistic production, calling for cheap hands and profit, not
humane culture. And the school authorities do but seek to supply the
demand of that system for lads who can read the papers enough to vote
with the machine, and write and cipher enough to be available as
clerks.
Everything beyond this being unprofitable, the great mass of our city
children are turned out of school at the ages of ten, eleven, and
twelve years, to furnish "cheap" hands for industrial purposes.
The Comptroller's report is substantiated, moreover, by the concurrent
testimony of the State Superintendent of Education, who laments
that:--[14]
[14] Report State Superintendent of Education. Report 1888,
p. 12.
"There is a large, uneducated class in the State, and our
statistics show that it is growing larger. The attendance
upon the schools has not kept pace with the advance of
population. Recent legislation forbids the employment of
children under thirteen years of age in any manufacturing
establishment, but no adequate provision is made for
gathering them into schools, and the number in the streets
grows more rapidly than the number in the schools. Indeed,
nothing practical has ever been done in this State by way of
compelling attendance upon the schools. The result is sadly
apparent and the premonitions are full of warning."
In 1889 (p. 13) the same official, Mr. Andrew S. Draper, says:--[15]
[15] Report State Superintendent of Education. Report 1889,
p. 13.
"The total attendance upon the schools, when compared with
the whole number of school age, has grown less and less with
strange uniformity."
The factory inspectors in their report for 1886, say, p. 15:--
"The ignorance is something alarming. Thousands of children
_born in this country, or who came here in early childhood_,
are unable to write; almost as many are unable to read, and
still other thousands can do little more than write their
own name. Possibly one third of the affidavits of the
parents examined by us in the factory towns were signed with
a crossmark, and it seemed to us that when the children who
now require these affidavits grow up and have children of
their own about whom to make affidavit, the proportion of
crossmarks to the papers will not be decreased."
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