APDL Eductation Resources/APDL Eductation Resources.iso/text/authors/poe/mesmeric/MESMERIC

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                             1850

                   MESMERIC REVELATION

                    by Edgar Allan Poe


WHATEVER doubt may still envelop the rationale of mesmerism, its
startling facts are now almost universally admitted. Of these latter,
those who doubt, are your mere doubters by profession- an unprofitable
and disreputable tribe. There can be no more absolute waste of time than
the attempt to prove, at the present day, that man, by mere exercise of
will can so impress his fellow as to cast him into an abnormal
condition, of which the phenomena resemble very closely those of death,
or at least resemble them more nearly than they do the phenomena of any
other normal condition within our cognizance; that, while in this state,
the person so impressed employs only with effort, and then feebly, the
external organs of sense, yet perceives, with keenly refined perception,
and through channels supposed unknown, matters beyond the scope of the
physical organs; that, moreover, his intellectual faculties are
wonderfully exalted and invigorated; that his sympathies with the person
so impressing him are profound, and, finally, that his susceptibility to
the impression increases with its frequency, while in the same
proportion, the peculiar phenomena elicited are more extended and more
pronounced.

I say that these- which are the laws of mesmerism in its general
features- it would be supererogation to demonstrate; nor shall I inflict
upon my readers so needless a demonstration to-day. My purpose at
present is a very different one indeed. I am impelled, even in the teeth
of a world of prejudice, to detail without comment, the very remarkable
substance of a colloquy occurring between a sleep-waker and myself.

I had long been in the habit of mesmerizing the person in question (Mr.
Vankirk), and the usual acute susceptibility and exaltation of the
mesmeric perception had supervened. For many months he had been laboring
under confirmed phthisis, the more distressing effects of which had been
relieved by my manipulations; and on the night of Wednesday, the
fifteenth instant, I was summoned to his bedside.

The invalid was suffering with acute pain in the region of the heart,
and breathed with great difficulty, having all the ordinary symptoms of
asthma. In spasms such as these he had usually found relief from the
application of mustard to the nervous centres, but to-night this had
been attempted in vain.

As I entered his room he greeted me with a cheerful smile, and although
evidently in much bodily pain, appeared to be, mentally, quite at ease.

"I sent for you to-night," he said, "not so much to administer to my
bodily ailment, as to satisfy me concerning certain physical impressions
which, of late, have occasioned me much anxiety and surprise. I need not
tell you how skeptical I have hitherto been on the topic of the soul's
immortality. I cannot deny that there has always existed, as if in that
very soul which I have been denying, a vague half-sentiment of its own
existence. But this half-sentiment at no time amounted to conviction.
With it my reason had nothing to do. All attempts at logical inquiry
resulted, indeed, in leaving me more sceptical than before. I had been
advised to study Cousin. I studied him in his own works as well as in
those of his European and American echoes. The 'Charles Elwood' of Mr.
Brownson for example, was placed in my hands. I read it with profound
attention. Throughout I found it logical but the portions which were not
merely logical were unhappily the initial arguments of the disbelieving
hero of the book. In his summing up it seemed evident to me that the
reasoner had not even succeeded in convincing himself. His end had
plainly forgotten his beginning, like the government of Trinculo. In
short, I was not long in perceiving that if man is to be intellectually
convinced of his own immortality, he will never be so convinced by the
mere abstractions which have been so long the fashion of the moralists
of England, of France, and of Germany. Abstractions may amuse and
exercise, but take no hold on the mind. Here upon earth, at least,
philosophy, I am persuaded, will always in vain call upon us to look
upon qualities as things. The will may assent- the soul- the intellect,
never.

"I repeat, then, that I only half felt, and never intellectually
believed. But latterly there has been a certain deepening of the
feeling, until it has come so nearly to resemble the acquiesence of
reason, that I find it difficult to distinguish the two. I am enabled,
too, plainly to trace this effect to the mesmeric influence. I cannot
better explain my meaning than by the hypothesis that the mesmeric
exaltation enables me to perceive a train of ratiocination which, in my
abnormal existence, convinces, but which, in full accordance with the
mesmeric phenomena, does not extend, except through its effect, into my
normal condition. In sleep-waking, the reasoning and its conclusion- the
cause and its effect- are present together. In my natural state, the
cause vanishes, the effect only, and perhaps only partially, remains.

"These considerations have led me to think that some good results might
ensue from a series of well-directed questions propounded to me while
mesmerized. You have often observed the profound self-cognizance evinced
by the sleep-waker- the extensive knowledge he displays upon all points
relating to the mesmeric condition itself, and from this self-cognizance
may be deduced hints for the proper conduct of a catechism."

I consented of course to make this experiment. A few passes threw Mr.
Vankirk into the mesmeric sleep. His breathing became immediately more
easy, and he seemed to suffer no physical uneasiness. The following
conversation then ensued:-V. in the dialogue representing the patient,
and P. myself.

P. Are you asleep?

V. Yes- no; I would rather sleep more soundly.

P. [After a few more passes.] Do you sleep now?

V. Yes.

P. How do you think your present illness will result?

V. [After a long hesitation and speaking as if with effort.] I must die.

P. Does the idea of death afflict you?

V. [Very quickly.] No- no!

P. Are you pleased with the prospect?

V. If I were awake I should like to die, but now it is no matter. The
mesmeric condition is so near death as to content me.

P. I wish you would explain yourself, Mr. Vankirk.

V. I am willing to do so, but it requires more effort than I feel able
to make. You do not question me properly.

P. What then shall I ask?

V. You must begin at the beginning.

P. The beginning! But where is the beginning?

V. You know that the beginning is GOD. [This was said in a low,
fluctuating tone, and with every sign of the most profound veneration.]

P. What, then, is God?

V. [Hesitating for many minutes.] I cannot tell.

P. Is not God spirit?

V. While I was awake I knew what you meant by "spirit," but now it seems
only a word- such, for instance, as truth, beauty- a quality, I mean.

P. Is not God immaterial?

V. There is no immateriality- it is a mere word. That which is not
matter, is not at all- unless qualities are things.

P. Is God, then, material?

V. No. [This reply startled me very much.]

P. What, then, is he?

V. [After a long pause, and mutteringly.] I see- but it is a thing
difficult to tell. [Another long pause.] He is not spirit, for he
exists. Nor is he matter, as you understand it. But there are gradations
of matter of which man knows nothing; the grosser impelling the finer,
the finer pervading the grosser. The atmosphere, for example, impels the
electric principle, while the electric principle permeates the
atmosphere. These gradations of matter increase in rarity or fineness
until we arrive at a matter unparticled- without particles-
indivisible-one, and here the law of impulsion and permeation is
modified. The ultimate or unparticled matter not only permeates all
things, but impels all things; and thus is all things within itself.
This matter is God. What men attempt to embody in the word "thought," is
this matter in motion.

P. The metaphysicians maintain that all action is reducible to motion
and thinking, and that the latter is the origin of the former.

V. Yes; and I now see the confusion of idea. Motion is the action of
mind, not of thinking. The unparticled matter, or God, in quiescence is
(as nearly as we can conceive it) what men call mind. And the power of
self-movement (equivalent in effect to human volition) is, in the
unparticled matter, the result of its unity and omniprevalence; how, I
know not, and now clearly see that I shall never know. But the
unparticled matter, set in motion by a law or quality existing within
itself, is thinking.

P. Can you give me no more precise idea of what you term the unparticled
matter?

V. The matters of which man is cognizant escape the senses in gradation.
We have, for example, a metal, a piece of wood, a drop of water, the
atmosphere, a gas, caloric, electricity, the luminiferous ether. Now, we
call all these things matter, and embrace all matter in one general
definition; but in spite of this, there can be no two ideas more
essentially distinct than that which we attach to a metal, and that
which we attach to the luminiferous ether. When we reach the latter, we
feel an almost irresistible inclination to class it with spirit, or with
nihilty. The only consideration which restrains us is our conception of
its atomic constitution; and here, even, we have to seek aid from our
notion of an atom, as something possessing in infinite minuteness,
solidity, palpability, weight. Destroy the idea of the atomic
constitution and we should no longer be able to regard the ether as an
entity, or, at least, as matter. For want of a better word we might term
it spirit. Take, now, a step beyond the luminiferous ether- conceive a
matter as much more rare than the ether, as this ether is more rare than
the metal, and we arrive at once (in spite of all the school dogmas) at
a unique mass- an unparticled matter. For although we may admit infinite
littleness in the atoms themselves, the infinitude of littleness in the
spaces between them is an absurdity. There will be a point- there will
be a degree of rarity at which, if the atoms are sufficiently numerous,
the interspaces must vanish, and the mass absolutely coalesce. But the
consideration of the atomic constitution being now taken away, the
nature of the mass inevitably glides into what we conceive of spirit. It
is clear, however, that it is as fully matter as before. The truth is,
it is impossible to conceive spirit since it is impossible to imagine
what is not. When we flatter ourselves that we have formed its
conception, we have merely deceived our understanding by the
consideration of infinitely rarefied matter.

P. There seems to me an insurmountable objection to the idea of absolute
coalescence;- and that is the very slight resistance experienced by the
heavenly bodies in their revolutions through space- a resistance now
ascertained, it is true, to exist in some degree, but which is,
nevertheless, so slight as to have been quite overlooked by the sagacity
even of Newton. We know that the resistance of bodies is, chiefly, in
proportion to their density. Absolute coalescence is absolute density.
Where there are no interspaces, there can be no yielding. An ether,
absolutely dense, would put an infinitely more effectual stop to the
progress of a star than would an ether of adamant or of iron.

V. Your objection is answered with an ease which is nearly in the ratio
of its apparent unanswerability.- As regards the progress of the star,
it can make no difference whether the star passes through the ether or
the ether through it. There is no astronomical error more unaccountable
than that which reconciles the known retardation of the comets with the
idea of their passage through an ether, for, however rare this ether be
supposed, it would put a stop to all sidereal revolution in a very far
briefer period than has been admitted by those astronomers who have
endeavored to slur over a point which they found it impossible to
comprehend. The retardation actually experienced is, on the other hand,
about that which might be expected from the friction of the ether in the
instantaneous passage through the orb. In the one case, the retarding
force is momentary and complete within itself- in the other it is
endlessly accumulative.

P. But in all this- in this identification of mere matter with God- is
there nothing of irreverence? [I was forced to repeat this question
before the sleep-waker fully comprehended my meaning.]

V. Can you say why matter should be less reverenced than mind? But you
forget that the matter of which "mind" or "spirit" of the schools, so
far as regards its high capacities, and is, moreover, the "matter" of
these schools at the same time. God, with all the powers attributed to
spirit, is but the perfection of matter.

P. You assert, then, that the unparticled matter, in motion, is thought.

V. In general, this motion is the universal thought of the universal
mind. This thought creates. All created things are but the thoughts of
God.

P. You say, "in general."

V. Yes. The universal mind is God. For new individualities, matter is
necessary.

P. But you now speak of "mind" and "matter" as do the metaphysicians.

V. Yes- to avoid confusion. When I say "mind," I mean the unparticled or
ultimate matter, by "matter," I intend all else.

P. You were saying that "for new individualities matter is necessary."

V. Yes; for mind, existing unincorporate, is merely God. To create
individual, thinking beings, it was necessary to incarnate portions of
the divine mind. Thus man is individualized. Divested of corporate
investiture, he were God. Now the particular motion of the incarnated
portions of the unparticled matter is the thought of man; as the motion
of the whole is that of God.

P. You say that divested of the body man will be God?

V. [After much hesitation.] I could not have said this; it is an
absurdity.

P. [Referring to my notes.] You did say that "divested of corporate
investiture man were God."

V. And this is true. Man thus divested would be God- would be
unindividualized. But he can never be thus divested- at least never will
be- else we must imagine an action of God returning upon itself- a
purposeless and futile action. Man is a creature. Creatures are thoughts
of God. It is the nature of thought to be irrevocable.

P. I do not comprehend. You say that man will never put off the body?

V. I say that he will never be bodiless.

P. Explain.

V. There are two bodies- the rudimental and the complete, corresponding
with the two conditions of the worm and the butterfly. What we call
"death," is but the painful metamorphosis. Our present incarnation is
progressive, preparatory, temporary. Our future is perfected, ultimate,
immortal. The ultimate life is the full design.

P. But of the worm's metamorphosis we are palpably cognizant.

V. We, certainly- but not the worm. The matter of which our rudimental
body is composed, is within the ken of the organs of that body; or, more
distinctly, our rudimental organs are adapted to the matter of which is
formed the rudimental body, but not to that of which the ultimate is
composed. The ultimate body thus escapes our rudimental senses, and we
perceive only the shell which falls, in decaying, from the inner form,
not that inner form itself; but this inner form as well as the shell, is
appreciable by those who have already acquired the ultimate life.

P. You have often said that the mesmeric state very nearly resembles
death. How is this?

V. When I say that it resembles death, I mean that it resembles the
ultimate life; for when I am entranced the senses of my rudimental life
are in abeyance and I perceive external things directly, without organs,
through a medium which I shall employ in the ultimate, unorganized life.

P. Unorganized?

V. Yes; organs are contrivances by which the individual is brought into
sensible relation with particular classes and forms of matter, to the
exclusion of other classes and forms. The organs of man are adapted to
his rudimental condition, and to that only; his ultimate condition,
being unorganized, is of unlimited comprehension in all points but one-
the nature of the volition of God- that is to say, the motion of the
unparticled matter. You may have a distinct idea of the ultimate body by
conceiving it to be entire brain. This it is not, but a conception of
this nature will bring you near a comprehension of what it is. A
luminous body imparts vibration to the luminiferous ether. The
vibrations generate similar ones within the retina; these again
communicate similar ones to the optic nerve. The nerve conveys similar
ones to the brain; the brain, also, similar ones to the unparticled
matter which permeates it. The motion of this latter is thought, of
which perception is the first undulation. This is the mode by which the
mind of the rudimental life communicates with the external world; and
this external world is, to the rudimental life, limited, through the
idiosyncrasy of its organs. But in the ultimate, unorganized life, the
external world reaches the whole body, (which is of a substance having
affinity to brain, as I have said,) with no other intervention than that
of an infinitely rarer ether than even the luminiferous; and to this
ether- in unison with it- the whole body vibrates, setting in motion the
unparticled matter which permeates it. It is to the absence of
idiosyncratic organs, therefore, that we must attribute the nearly
unlimited perception of the ultimate life. To rudimental beings, organs
are the cages necessary to confine them until fledged.

P. You speak of rudimental "beings." Are there other rudimental thinking
beings than man?

V. The multitudinous conglomeration of rare matter into nebulae,
planets, suns, and other bodies which are neither nebulae, suns, nor
planets, is for the sole purpose of supplying pabulum for the
idiosyncrasy of the organs of an infinity of rudimental beings. But for
the necessity of the rudimental, prior to the ultimate life, there would
have been no bodies such as these. Each of these is tenanted by a
distinct variety of organic rudimental thinking creatures. In all, the
organs vary with the features of the place tenanted. At death, or
metamorphosis, these creatures, enjoying the ultimate life- immortality-
and cognizant of all secrets but the one, act all things and pass every
where by mere volition:- indwelling, not the stars, which to us seem the
sole palpabilities, and for the accommodation of which we blindly deem
space created- but that space itself- that infinity of which the truly
substantive vastness swallows up the star-shadows- blotting them out as
non-entities from the perception of the angels.

P. You say that "but for the necessity of the rudimental life, there
would have been no stars." But why this necessity?

V. In the inorganic life, as well as in the inorganic matter generally,
there is nothing to impede the action of one simple unique law- the
Divine Volition. With the view of producing impediment, the organic life
and matter (complex, substantial and law- encumbered) were contrived.

P. But again- why need this impediment have been produced?

V. The result of law inviolate is perfection- right- negative happiness.
The result of law violate is imperfection, wrong, positive pain. Through
the impediments afforded by the number, complexity, and substantiality
of the laws of organic life and matter, the violation of law is
rendered, to a certain extent, practicable. Thus pain, which is the
inorganic life is impossible, is possible in the organic.

P. But to what good end is pain thus rendered possible?

V. All things are either good or bad by comparison. A sufficient
analysis will show that pleasure in all cases, is but the contrast of
pain. Positive pleasure is a mere idea. To be happy at any one point we
must have suffered at the same. Never to suffer would have been never to
have been blessed. But it has been shown that, in the inorganic life,
pain cannot be; thus the necessity for the organic. The pain of the
primitive life of Earth, is the sole basis of the bliss of the ultimate
life in Heaven.

P. Still there is one of your expressions which I find it impossible to
comprehend- "the truly substantive vastness of infinity."

V. This, probably, is because you have no sufficiently generic
conception of the term "substance" itself. We must not regard it as a
quality, but as a sentiment:- it is the perception, in thinking beings,
of the adaptation of matter to their organization. There are many things
on the Earth, which would be nihility to the inhabitants of Venus- many
things visible and tangible in Venus, which we could not be brought to
appreciate as existing at all. But to the inorganic beings- to the
angels- the whole of the unparticled matter is substance; that is to
say, the whole of what we term "space," is to them the truest
substantiality;- the stars, meantime, through what we consider their
materiality, escaping the angelic sense, just in proportion as the
unparticled matter, through what we consider its immateriality, eludes
the organic.

As the sleep-waker pronounced these latter words, in a feeble tone, I
observed on his countenance a singular expression, which somewhat
alarmed me, and induced me to awake him at once. No sooner had I done
this than, with a bright smile irradiating all his features, he fell
back upon his pillow and expired. I noticed that in less than a minute
afterward his corpse had all the stern rigidity of stone. His brow was
of the coldness of ice. Thus, ordinarily, should it have appeared, only
after long pressure from Azrael's hand. Had the sleep-waker, indeed,
during the latter portion of his discourse, been addressing me from out
the regions of the shadows?



                         THE END