Monthly Archives: March 2016

¿POR QUÉ EXISTES?

Me parece que es para que tus descendientes se inicien en esos mundos desconocidos. Existes porque para la humanidad hay una gran esperanza. El universo, el vasto universo sería incomprensible si no fuésemos más que hijos del acaso. Todo parece demostrar que la inteligencia ha venido constantemente desarrollándose y propagándose por sobre la superficie de la Tierra. Ahora bien, si nuestras ciencias no fuesen más lejos que nuestra Astronomía, nuestra Física, nuestra Fisiología actuales, hubiera costado, realmente, para llegar penosamente a ese pobre resultado, un inmenso esfuerzo de muchos millones de siglos y de muchos miles de miles de seres vivos. Pero no estamos en el término postrero de nuestro desarrollo porque el futuro de la ciencia es casi ilimitado. Hace cien años, cuando murió Curvier, no se conocía ni la electricidad de inducción, ni la síntesis química, ni los microbios, ni la fotografía, ni el teléfono, ni las ondas hertzianas, ni la radio, ni la aviación, estando las ciencias ocultas entregadas a las pitonisas y a las hechiceras. Por tanto, no se puede prever en absoluto lo que nos espera dentro de cien años, ¡y con más razón dentro de mil! Tenemos, pues, derecho a intentar las más aventuradas experiencias. ¡Cuántos mundos misteriosos, fuerzas invisibles (quizá inteligentes) están en torno a nosotros; qué horizontes espléndidos nos son descortinados! Hagamos una comparación. ¿Será que una hormiga, que deambula en un hormiguero, puede adivinar que hay trasatlánticos y teatros, parlamentos, tribunales, electrones y estrellas? Seguramente somos más inteligentes que una hormiga, pero del universo inmenso que nos rodea no sabemos mucho más que ella.

Charles Richet

                       Charles Richet

Con toda seguridad hay fuerzas diferentes de las conocidas hasta ahora y estudiadas por los sabios. Que podamos conocerlas un día es otra cosa. Digo solamente que hay fuerzas misteriosas, quizá innumerables, en torno a nosotros. No hemos agotado la lista de las fuerzas mundiales. Tales y Protágoras ya pensaban haberla agotado, como más tarde Abelard y Scott y, todavía más tarde, Descartes y Newton. Pese a su talento, Tales, Protágoras, Abelard, Scott, Descartes y Newton se equivocaron. A pesar de que somos bastante inferiores a esos grandes hombres, teniendo más prudencia que ellos, osamos decir que hay una probabilidad formidable, casi certeza, de que mundos desconocidos vibran a nuestro alrededor. Y el segundo argumento, el argumento experimental, es mucho más poderoso aún, y sería preciso ser desoladoramente ciego para no aceptar lo que proclaman la observación y la experiencia. El mundo mecánico, expresado por los Matemáticos, producido por los Ingenieros, descrito por los Físicos y Fisiólogos, no lo es todo. Existen fuerzas mecánicas completamente desconocidas que pueden ser aplicadas (ridículamente, lo confieso) en condiciones inhabituales sin que podamos encontrar una única explicación verosímil. Lo inhabitual existe, hay ectoplasmas, telekinesias, levitaciones, fantasmas, lucidez, premoniciones. Entonces, dos hipótesis (ambas inverosímiles) se presentan. Pero no veo una tercera por si fuese imposible adoptar una u otra. O entonces la inteligencia humana es capaz de milagros. Llamo milagros a los fantasmas, a la lucidez, a las premoniciones. Por tanto, si otrora hubo nómadas y erizos marinos, fue para que hubiese un hombre futuro, más sagaz, más inteligente que el hombre actual que, aprovechándose de las pesquisas de sus ancestros, es decir, nosotros, descubra quizá la causa profunda por la cual él ha aparecido, ¡por la cual tú existes, oh amigo mío! Con todo, hoy, esas ideas sobre el futuro humano y el engrandecimiento de nuestro pensar parecen a la mayoría de los hombres (y principalmente, lamento decirlo, a los sabios), fantasías y sueños.  ¡Sea! Pero lo que nadie podrá contestar es que la ciencia clásica, metódica, la ciencia de las Universidades y de las enseñanzas oficiales, hará progresos maravillosos. Aunque nada esperemos de lo inhabitual metapsíquico, nuevas verdades se descubrirán en lo habitual. Tengamos el coraje de pensar que nuestra Física, nuestra Astronomía, nuestra Geología, nuestra Fisiología, principalmente nuestra Medicina, aún permanecen en una infancia primitiva. Nada sabemos del mundo inhabitual. Pero, asimismo, poco sabemos del mundo habitual, mecánico, banal, en el cual nos movemos. El enorme progreso de la ciencia y la llegada de un hombre superior, es un futuro que tenemos el derecho de aguardar. Y es por ese futuro que los poderosos instintos de la conservación para la vida del individuo y la prolongación para la vida de la especie han sido dados a todos los seres vivos. No es el acaso, quizá no sea más que una ley. ¿Por qué existes? Pregunté al comenzar. Y ahora resumo: Para vivir y para tener hijos. Porque si la humanidad se prolonga, como hay mundos inauditos, enormes, inverosímiles por conocer, esos mundos serán (por lo menos parcialmente) conocidos, pues la prolongación de la humanidad será acompañada de un aumento de la inteligencia. Por tanto, existes para que tus hijos sepan. Si ellos saben, encontrarán el medio de ser felices. No es solamente tu deber, es además tu esperanza. Reflexiona bien sobre esto: actuando así, pensando así, te convertirás en el constructor, no solamente de la felicidad de tus hermanos, sino además de tu propia felicidad. Líbrate de los servilismos dolorosos de la vida, engrandécete y, cuando llegue la muerte, podrás adormecer (para despertar, sin duda) en plena serenidad.

Tomado del libro “La Gran Esperanza” por Charles Richet. 1933

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The Spiritual Seance by Mark Twain

THE SPIRITUAL SEANCE

There was a seance in town a few nights since. As I was making for it, in company with the reporter of an evening paper, he said he had seen a gambler named Gus Graham shot down in a town in Illinois years ago, by a mob, and as he was probably the only person in San Francisco who knew of the circumstance, he thought he would “give the spirits Graham to chaw on awhile.” [N.B. – This young creature is a Democrat, and speaks with the native strength and inelegance of his tribe.] In the course of the show he wrote his old pal’s name on a slip of paper and folded it up tightly and put it in a hat which was passed around, and which already had about five hundred similar documents in it. The pile was dumped on the table and the medium began to take them up one by one and lay them aside, asking: “Is this spirit present? – or this? – or this?” About one in fifty would rap, and the person who sent up the name would rise in his place and question the defunct. At last a spirit seized the medium’s hand and wrote “Gus Graham ” backwards. Then the medium went skirmishing through the papers for the corresponding name. And that old sport knew his card by the back! When the medium came to it, after picking up fifty others, he rapped! A committeeman unfolded the paper and it was the right one. I sent for it and got it. It was all right. However, I suppose all those Democrats are on sociable terms with the devil. The young man got up and asked:

“Did you die in ’51? – ’52? – 53? – ’54? -”

Ghost – “Rap, rap, rap.”

“Did you die of cholera? – diarrhea? – dysentery? – dog bite? – small-pox? – violent death?

“Rap, rap, rap.”

“Were you hanged? – drowned? – stabbed? – shot? ”

“Rap, rap, rap.”

“Did you die in Mississippi? – Kentucky? – New York? – Sandwich Islands? – Texas? – Illinois? – ”

“Rap, rap, rap.”

“In Adams county? – Madison? – Randolph? –

“Rap, rap, rap.”

It was no use trying to catch the departed gambler. He knew his hand and played it like a Major.

About this time a couple of Germans stepped forward, an elderly man and a spry young fellow, cocked and primed for a sensation. They wrote some names. Then young Ohlendorff said something which sounded like –

“Ist ein geist hieraus?” [Bursts of laughter from the audience.]

Three raps – signifying that there was a geist hieraus.

“Vollen sie schreihen?” [More laughter.]

Three raps.

“Finzig stollen, linsowfterowlickterhairowfterfrowleinerwhackfolderol?”

Incredible as it may seem, the spirit cheerfully answered Yes to that astonishing proposition.

The audience grew more and more boisterously mirthful with every fresh question, and they were informed that the performance could not go on in the midst of so much levity. They became quiet.

The German ghost didn’t appear to know anything at all – couldn’t answer the simplest questions. Young Ohlendorff finally stated some numbers, and tried to get at the time of the spirit’s death; it appeared to be considerably mixed as to whether it died in 1811 or 1812, which was reasonable enough, as it had been so long ago. At last it wrote “12.”

Tableau! Young Ohlendorff sprang to his feet in a state of consuming excitement. He exclaimed:

“Laties und shentlemen! I wride de name fon a man vot lifs! Speerit-rabbing dells me he ties in yahr eighte-n hoondert und dwelf, but he yoos as live und helty as – ”

The Medium – “Sit down, sir!”

Ohlendorff – “But I vant to ”

Medium – “You are not here to make speeches, sir – sit down!” [Mr. O. had squared himself for an oration.]

Mr. O. – “But de speerit cheat! – dere is no such speer it ” [All this time applause and laughter by turns from the audience.]

Medium – “Take your seat, sir, and I will explain this matter.”

And she explained. And in that explanation she let off a blast which was so terrific that I half expected to see young Ohlendorff shot up through the roof. She said he had come up there with fraud and deceit and cheating in his heart, and a kindred spirit had come from the land of shadows to commune with him! She was terribly bitter. She said in substance, though not in words, that perdition was full of just such fellows as Ohlendorff, and they were ready on the slightest pretext to rush in and assume anybody’s name, and rap, and write, and lie, and swindle with a perfect looseness whenever they could rope in a living affinity like poor Ohlendorff to communicate with! [Great applause and laughter.]

Ohlendorff stood his ground with good pluck, and was going to open his batteries again, when a storm of cries arose all over the house, “Get down! Go on! Clear out! Speak on – we’ll hear you! Climb down from that platform! Stay where you are! Vamose! Stick to your post – say your say!”

The medium rose up and said if Ohlendorff remained, she would not. She recognized no one’s right to come there and insult her by practicing a deception upon her and attempting to bring ridicule upon so solemn a thing as her religious belief.

The audience then became quiet, and the subjugated Ohlendorff retired from the platform.

The other German raised a spirit, questioned it at some length in his own language, and said the answers were correct. The medium claims to be entirely unacquainted with the German language.

Just then a gentleman called me to the edge of the platform and asked me if I were a Spiritualist. I said I was not. He asked me if I were prejudiced. I said not more than any other unbeliever; but I could not believe in a thing which I could not understand, and I had not seen anything yet that I could by any possibility cipher out. He said, then, that he didn’t think I was the cause of the diffidence shown by the spirits, but he knew there was an antagonistic influence around that table somewhere; he had noticed it from the first; there was a painful negative current passing to his sensitive organization from that direction constantly. I told him I guessed it was that other fellow; and I said, Blame a man who was all the time shedding these infernal negative currents! This appeared to satisfy the mind of the inquiring fanatic, and he sat down.

I had a very dear friend, who, I had heard, had gone to the spirit land, or perdition, or some of those places, and I desired to know something concerning him. There was something so awful, though, about talking with living, sinful lips to the ghostly dead, that I could hardly bring myself to rise and speak. But at last I got tremblingly up and said with low and reverent voice:

“Is the spirit of John Smith present?” [You never can depend on these Smiths; you call for one and the whole tribe will come clattering out of hell to answer you.]

“Whack! whack! whack! whack!”

Bless me! I believe all the dead and damned John Smiths between San Francisco and perdition boarded that poor little table at once! I was considerably set back – stunned, I may say. The audience urged me to go on, however, and I said:

“What did you die of?”

The Smiths answered to every disease and casualty that man can die of.

“Where did you die?”

They answered Yes to every locality I could name while n geography held out.

“Are you happy where you are?”

There was a vigorous and unanimous “No!” from the late Smiths.

“Is it warm there?”

An educated Smith seized the medium’s hand and wrote:

“It’s no name for it.”

“Did you leave any Smiths in that place when you came away?”

“Dead loads of them.”

I fancied I heard the shadowy Smiths chuckle at this feeble joke – the rare joke that there could be live loads of Smiths where all are dead.

“How many Smiths are present?”

“Eighteen millions – the procession now reaches from here to the other side of China.”

“Then there are many Smiths in the kingdom of the lost?”

“The Prince Apollyon calls all newcomers Smith on general principles; and continues to do so until he is corrected, if he chances to be mistaken ”

“What do lost spirits call their dread abode?”

“They call it the Smithsonian Institute.”

I got hold of the right Smith at last – the particular Smith I was after – my dear, lost, lamented friend – and learned that he died a violent death. I feared as much. He said his wife talked him to death. Poor wretch!

By and by up started another Smith. A gentleman in the audience said that that was his Smith. So he questioned him, and this Smith said he too died by violence; he had been a teacher; not a school-teacher, but (after some hesitation) a teacher of religion; he had been a good deal tangled in his religious belief, and was a sort of a cross between a Universalist and a Unitarian; has got straightened out and changed his opinions since he left here; said he was perfectly happy. We proceeded to question this talkative and frolicsome old parson. Among spirits, I judge he is the gayest of the gay. He said he had no tangible body; a bullet could pass through him and never make a hole; rain could pass through him as through vapor and not discommode him in the least (wherefore I suppose he don’t know enough to come in when it rains – or don’t care enough;) says heaven and hell are simply mental conditions – spirits in the former have happy and contented minds, and those in the latter are torn by remorse of conscience; says as far as he is concerned, he is all right – he is happy; would not say whether he was a very good or a very bad man on earth (the shrewd old water-proof nonentity! – I asked the question so that I might average my own chances for his luck in the other world, but he saw my drift;) says he has an occupation there – puts in his time teaching and being taught; says there are spheres – grades of excellence – he is making pretty good progress – has been promoted a sphere or so since his matriculation; (I said mentally, “Go slow, old man, go slow – you have got all eternity before you” – and he replied not;) he don’t know how many spheres there are (but I suppose there must be millions, because if a man goes galloping through them at the rate this old Universalist is doing, he will get through an infinitude of them by the time he has been there as long as old Sesostris and those ancient mummies; and there is no estimating how high he will get in even the infancy of eternity – I am afraid the old man is scouring along rather too fast for the style of his surroundings, and the length of time he has got on his hands); says spirits cannot feel heat or cold (which militates somewhat against all my notions of orthodox damnation – fire and brimstone); says spirits commune with each other by thought – they have no language; says the distinctions of sex are preserved there – and so forth and so on.

The old parson wrote and talked for an hour, and showed by his quick, shrewd, intelligent replies, that he had not been sitting up nights in the other world for nothing; he had been prying into everything worth knowing, and finding out even thing he possibly could – as he said himself – when he did not understand a thing he hunted up a spirit who could explain it; consequently he is pretty thoroughly posted; and for his accommodating conduct and his uniform courtesy to me, I sincerely hope he will continue to progress at his present velocity until he lands on the very roof of the highest sphere of all, and thus achieves perfection.

Originally appeared as AMONG THE SPIRITUALISTS in
Territorial Enterprise, January, 1866

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