THE HAND OF GLORY; THE BLOODY HAND OF ULSTER; THE SEVENTH SON; BIRTHMARKS; NATURE’S DEVIL SIGNALS;
PRE-EXISTENCE; THE FUTURE; PROJECTION; TELEPATHY,
ETC.
The Hand of Glory
Belief in the power of the Hand of
Glory still, I believe, exists in certain parts of
European and Asiatic Russia. Once it was prevalent
everywhere. The Hand of Glory was a hand cut off
from the body of a robber and murderer who had expiated
his crimes on the gallows. To endow it with the
properties of a talisman, the blood was first of all
extracted; it was then given a thorough soaking in
saltpetre and pepper, and hung out in the sun.
When perfectly dry, it was used as a candlestick for
a candle made of white wax, sesame seed, and fat from
the corpse of the criminal. Prepared thus, the
Hand of Glory was deemed to have the power of aiding
and protecting the robbers in their nefarious work
by sending to sleep their intended victims. Hence
no robber ever visited a house without having such
a talisman with him.
The Bloody Hand of Ulster
The Red Right Hand of Ulster is the
badge of the O’Neills, and according to tradition
it originated thus:-On the approach of an
ancient expedition to Ulster, the leader declared
that whoever first touched the shore should possess
the land in the immediate vicinity. An ancestor
of the O’Neills, anxious to obtain the reward,
at once cut off his right hand and threw it on the
coast, which henceforth became his territory.
Since then the O’Neills have
always claimed the Red Right Hand of Ulster as their
badge, and it figured only the other day on the banner
which, for the first time since the days of Shane
the Proud, was flown from the battlements of their
ancient stronghold, Ardglass Castle, now in the possession
of Mr F. J. Bigger.
A very similar story to that of the
O’Neill is told of an O’Donnell, who,
with a similar motive, namely, to acquire territory,
on arriving within sight of Spain, cut off his hand
and hurled it on the shore, and, like the O’Neills,
the O’Donnells from that time have adopted the
hand as their badge.
The Seventh Son
It was formerly believed that a seventh
son could cure diseases, and that a seventh son of
a seventh son, with no female born in between, could
cure the king’s evil. Indeed, seven was
universally regarded as a psychic number, and according
to astrologers the greatest events in a person’s
life, and his nearest approach to death without actually
incurring it, would be every seven years. The
grand climacterics are sixty-three and eighty-four,
and the most critical periods of a person’s
life occur when they are sixty-three and eighty-four
years of age.
Birthmarks
Some families have a heritage of peculiar
markings on the skin. The only birthmark of this
description which I am acquainted with is “The
Historic Baldearg,” or red spot that has periodically
appeared on the skins of members of the O’Donnell
clan. Its origin is dubious, but I imagine it
must go back pretty nearly to the time of the great
Niall. In the days when Ireland was in a chronic
state of rebellion, it was said that it would never
shake off the yoke of its cruel English oppressors
till its forces united under the leadership of an O’Donnell
with the Baldearg. An O’Donnell with the
Baldearg turned up in 1690, in the person of Hugh
Baldearg O’Donnell, son of John O’Donnell,
an officer in the Spanish Army, and descendant of
the Calvagh O’Donnell of Tyrconnell, who had
been created Earl of Wexford by Queen Elizabeth.
But the Irish, as has ever been the case, would not
unite, and despite the aid given him by Talbot (who
had succeeded the O’Donnells in the Earldom of
Tyrconnell), he met with but little success, and returning
to Spain, died there with the rank of Major-General
in 1704.
References to the Baldearg may be
seen in various of the Memoirs of the O’Donnells
in the libraries of the British Museum, Madrid, Dublin,
and elsewhere.
Nature’s Devil Signals
I have already alluded to the fingers
typical of murderers; I will now refer in brief to
a form of Nature’s other danger signals.
The feet of murderers are, as a rule, very short and
broad, the toes flat and square-tipped. As a
rule, too, they either have very receding chins, as
in the case of Mapleton Lefroy, or very massive, prominent
chins, as in the case of Gotfried.
In many instances the ears of murderers
are set very far back and low down on their heads,
and the outer rims are very much crumpled; also they
have very high and prominent cheek-bones, whilst one
side of the face is different from the other.
The backs of many murderers’ heads are nearly
perpendicular, or, if anything, rather inclined to
recede than otherwise-they seldom project-whilst
the forehead is unusually prominent.
It is a noteworthy fact that a large
percentage of modern murderers have had rather prominent
light, steely blue eyes-rarely grey or brown.
Their voices-and there
is another key to the character-are either
hollow and metallic, or suggestive of the sounds made
by certain animals.
Many of these characteristics are
to be found in criminal lunatics.
Pre-existence and the Future
To talk of a former life as if it
were an established fact is, of course, an absurdity;
to dogmatise at all on such a question, with regard
to which one man’s opinion is just as speculative
as another’s, is, perhaps, equally ridiculous.
Granted, then, the equal value of the varying opinions
of sane men on this subject, it is clear that no one
can be considered an authority; my opinion, no less
than other people’s, is, as I have said, merely
speculation. That I had a former life is, I think,
extremely likely, and that I misconducted myself in
that former life, more than likely, since it is only
by supposing a previous existence in which I misbehaved,
that I can see the shadow of a justification for all
the apparently unmerited misfortunes I have suffered
in my present existence.
I do not, however, see any specific
reason why my former existence should have been here;
on the contrary, I think it far more probable that
I was once in some other sphere-perhaps
one of the planets-where my misdeeds led
to my banishment and my subsequent appearance in this
world. With regard to a future life, eternal punishment,
and its converse, everlasting bliss, I fear I never
had any orthodox views, or, if I had, my orthodoxy
exploded as soon as my common sense began to grow.
Hell, the hell hurled at my head from
the pulpit, only excited my indignation-it
was so unjust-nor did the God of the Old
Testament fill me with aught save indignation and
disgust. Lost in a quagmire of doubts and perplexities,
I inquired of my preceptors as to the authorship of
the book that held up for adoration a being so stern,
relentless, and unjust as God; and in answer to my
inquiries was told that I was very wicked to talk
in such a way about the Bible; that it was God’s
own book-divinely inspired-in
fact, written by God Himself. Then I inquired
if the original manuscript in God’s handwriting
was still in existence; and was told I was very wicked
and must hold my tongue. Yet I had no idea of
being in any way irreverent or blasphemous; I was merely
perplexed, and longed to have my difficulties settled.
Failing this, they grew, and I began to question whether
the terms “merciful” and “almighty”
were terms that could be applied with any degree of
consistency to the scriptural one and only Creator.
Would that God, if He were almighty, have permitted
the existence of such an enemy (or indeed an enemy
at all) as the Devil? And if He were merciful,
would He, for the one disobedient act of one human
being, have condemned to the most ghastly and diabolical
sufferings, millions of human beings, and not only
human beings, but animals? Ah! that’s where
the rub comes in, for though there may be some sense,
if not justice, in causing men and women, who have
sinned-to suffer, there is surely neither
reason nor justice in making animals, who have not
sinned-to suffer.
And yet, for man’s one act of
disobedience, both man and beast have suffered thousands
of years of untold agonies. Could anyone save
the blindest and most fanatical of biblical bigots
call the ordainer of such a punishment merciful?
How often have I asked myself who created the laws
and principles of Nature! They are certainly more
suggestive of a fiendish than a benevolent author.
It is ridiculous to say man owes disease to his own
acts-such an argument-if argument
at all-would not deceive an infant.
Are the insects, the trees, the fish responsible for
the diseases with which they are inflicted? No,
Nature, or rather the creator of Nature, is alone
responsible. But, granted we have lived before,
there may be grounds for the suffering both of man
and beast. The story of the Fall may be but a
contortion of something that has happened to man in
a former existence, in another sphere, possibly, in
another planet; and its description based on nothing
more substantial than memory, vague and fleeting as
a dream. Anyhow, I am inclined to think that
incarnation here might be traced to something of more-infinitely
more-importance than an apple; possibly,
to some cause of which we have not, at the present,
even the remotest conception. People, who do
not believe in the former existence, attempt to justify
the ills of man here, by assuming that a state of perfect
happiness cannot be attained by man, except he has
suffered a certain amount of pain; so that, in order
to attain to perfect happiness, man must of necessity
experience suffering-a theory founded on
the much misunderstood axiom, that nothing can exist
save by contrast. But supposing, for the sake
of argument, that this axiom, according to its everyday
interpretation, is an axiom, i.e. a true saying,
then God, the Creator of all things, must have created
evil-evil that good may exist, and good
that evil may exist. This deduction, however,
is obviously at variance with the theory that God
is all goodness, since if nothing can exist save by
contrast, goodness must of necessity presuppose badness,
and we are thus led to the conclusion that God is
at the same time both good and bad, a conclusion which
is undoubtedly a reductio ad absurdum.
Seeing, then, that a God all good
cannot have created evil, surely we should be more
rational, if less scriptural, were we to suppose a
plurality of gods. In any case I cannot see how
pain, if God is indeed all mighty and all good, can
be the inevitable corollary of pleasure. Nor
can I see the necessity for man to suffer here, in
order to enjoy absolute happiness in the hereafter.
No, I think if there is any justification for the
suffering of mankind on this earth, it is to be found,
not in the theory of “contrast,” but in
a former existence, and in an existence in some other
sphere or plane. Vague recollections of such
an existence arise and perplex many of us; but they
are so elusive, the moment we attempt to grapple with
them, they fade away.
The frequent and vivid dreams I have,
of visiting a region that is peopled with beings that
have nothing at all in common with mankind, and who
welcome me as effusively as if I had been long acquainted
with them, makes me wonder if I have actually dwelt
amongst them in a previous life.
I cannot get rid of the idea that
in everything I see (in these dreams)-in
the appearance, mannerisms, and expressions of my queer
companions, in the scenery, in the atmosphere-I
do but recall the actual experience of long ago-the
actual experience of a previous existence. Nor
is this identical dreamland confined to me; and the
fact that others whom I have met, have dreamed of
a land, corresponding in every detail to my dreamland,
proves, to my mind, the possibility that both they
and I have lived a former life, and in that former
life inhabited the same sphere.
Projection
I have, as I have previously stated
in my work, The Haunted Houses of London, succeeded,
on one occasion, in separating at will, my immaterial
from my material body. I was walking alone along
a very quiet, country lane, at 4 P.M., and concentrating
with all my mind, on being at home. I kept repeating
to myself, “I WILL be there.” Suddenly
a vivid picture of the exterior of the house rose
before me, and, the next instant, I found myself,
in the most natural manner possible, walking down
some steps and across the side garden leading to the
conservatory. I entered the house, and found
all my possessions-books, papers, shoes,
etc.-just as I had left them some hours
previously. With the intention of showing myself
to my wife, in order that she might be a witness to
my appearance, I hastened to the room, where I thought
it most likely I should find her, and was about to
turn the handle of the door, when, for the fraction
of a second, I saw nothing. Immediately afterwards
there came a blank, and I was once again on the lonely
moorland road, toiling along, fishing rod in hand,
a couple of miles, at least, away from home.
When I did arrive home, my wife met me in the hall,
eager to tell me that at four o’clock both she
and the girls had distinctly heard me come down the
steps and through the conservatory into the house.
“You actually came,” my wife continued,
“to the door of the room in which I was sitting.
I called out to you to come in, but, receiving no reply,
I got up and opened the door, and found, to my utter
amazement, no one there. I searched for you everywhere,
and should much like to know why you have behaved
in this very extraordinary manner.”
Much excited in my turn, I hastened
to explain to her that I had been practising projection,
and had actually succeeded in separating my material
from my immaterial body, for a brief space of time,
just about four o’clock. The footsteps
she had heard were indeed my own footsteps-and
upon this point she was even more positive than I-the
footsteps of my immaterial self.
I have made my presence felt, though
I have never “appeared,” on several other
occasions. In my sleep, I believe, I am often
separated from my physical body, as my dreams are
so intensely real and vivid. They are so real
that I am frequently able to remember, almost verbatim,
long conversations I have had in them, and I awake
repeating broken-off sentences. Often, after
I have taken active exercise, such as running, or
done manual labour, such as digging or lifting heavy
weights in the land of my dreams, my muscles have
ached all the following day.
With regard to the projections of
other people, I have often seen phantasms of the living,
and an account of one appearing to me, when in the
company of three other persons, all of whom saw it,
may be read in the Psychical Research Society’s
Magazine for October 1899. I have referred to
it as well as to other of my similar experiences in
Ghostly Phenomena and Haunted Houses of London.
Doubles, i.e. people
who are more or less the exact counterpart of other
people, may easily be taken for projections by those
who have but little acquaintance with the occult.
I, myself, have seen many doubles, but though they
be as like as the proverbial two peas, I can tell at
a glance whether they be the material or immaterial
likeness of those they so exactly resemble. I
think there is no doubt that, in a good many instances,
doubles have been mistaken for projections, and, of
course, vice versa.
Telepathy and Suggestion
Though telepathy between two very
wakeful minds is an established fact, I do not think
it is generally known that it can also take place between
two minds when asleep, or between one person awake
and another asleep, and yet I have proved this to
be the case. My wife and I continually dream
of the same thing at the same time, and if I lie down
in the afternoon and fall asleep alone, she often
thinks of precisely what I am dreaming about.
Though telepathy and suggestion may possibly account
for hauntings when the phenomenon is only experienced
individually, I cannot see how it can do so when the
manifestations are witnessed by numbers, i.e.
collectively. I am quite sure that neither telepathy
nor suggestion are in any degree responsible for the
phenomena I have experienced, and that the latter
hail only from one quarter-the objective
and genuine occult world.
The Psychic Faculty and Second Sight
Whereas some people seem fated to
experience occult phenomena and others not, there
is this inconsistency: the person with the supposed
psychic faculty does not always witness the phenomena
when they appear. By way of illustration:
I have been present on one occasion in a haunted room
when all present have seen the ghost with the exception
of myself; whilst on other occasions, either I have
been the only one who has seen it, or some or all
of us have seen it. It would thus seem that the
psychic faculty does not ensure one’s seeing
a ghost, whenever a ghost is to be seen.
I think, as a matter of fact, that
apparitions can, whilst manifesting themselves to
some, remain invisible to others, and that they themselves
determine to whom they will appear. Some types
of phantasms apparently prefer manifesting themselves
to the spiritual or psychic-minded person, whilst
other types do not discriminate, but appear to the
spiritual and carnal-minded alike. There is just
as much variety in the tastes and habits of phantasms
as in the tastes and habits of human beings, and in
the behaviour of both phantasm and human being, I regret
to say, there is an equal and predominant amount of
inconsistency.
Intuition
I do not think it can be doubted that
psychic people have the faculty of intuition far more
highly developed than is the case with the more material-minded.
“Second sight” is but
another name for the psychic faculty, and it is generally
acknowledged to be far more common among the Celts
than the Anglo-Saxons. That this is so need not
be wondered at, since the Irish and the Highlanders
of Scotland (originally the same race) are far more
spiritual-minded than the English (in whom commerciality
and worldliness are innate), and consequently have,
on the whole, a far greater attraction for spirits
who would naturally prefer to reveal themselves to
those in whom they would be the more likely to find
something in common.
There is still a belief in certain
parts of the Hebrides that second sight was once obtained
there through a practice called “The Taigheirm.”
This rite, which is said to have been last performed
about the middle of the seventeenth century, consisted
in roasting on a spit, before a slow fire, a number
of black cats. As soon as one was dead another
took its place, and the sacrifice was continued until
the screeches of the tortured animals summoned from
the occult world an enormous black cat, that promised
to bestow as a perpetual heritage on the sacrificer
and his family, the faculty of second sight, if he
would desist from any further slaughter.
The sacrificer joyfully closed with
the bargain, and the ceremony concluded with much
feasting and merriment, in which, however, it is highly
improbable that the phantasms of the poor roasted “toms”
took part.
Clairvoyance
Clairvoyance is a branch of occultism
in which I have had little experience, and can, therefore,
only refer to in brief. When I was the Principal
of a Preparatory School, I once had on my staff a Frenchman
of the name of Deslys. On recommencing school
after the Christmas vacation, M. Deslys surprised
me very much by suddenly observing: “Mr
O’Donnell, did you not stay during the holidays
at No. ... The Crescent, Bath?”
“Yes,” I replied; “but
how on earth do you know?” I had only been there
two days, and had certainly never mentioned my visit
either to him or to anyone acquainted with him.
“Well!” he said, “I’ll
tell you how I came to know. Hearing from my
friends that Mme. Lèpres, a well-known
clairvoyante, had just come to Paris, I went
to see her. It is just a week ago to-day.
After she had described, with wonderful accuracy,
several houses and scenes with which I was familiar,
and given me several pieces of information about my
friends, which I subsequently found to be correct,
I asked her to tell me where you were and what you
were doing. For some moments she was silent,
and then she said very slowly: ’He is staying
with a friend at No. ... The Crescent, Bath.
I can see him (it was then three o’clock in
the afternoon) sitting by the bedside of his friend,
who has his head tied up in bandages. Mr O’Donnell
is telling him a very droll story about Lady B-,
to whom he has been lately introduced.’
She then stopped, made a futile effort to go on, and
after a protracted pause exclaimed: ‘I
can see no more-something has happened.’
That was all I found out about you.”
“And enough, too, M. Deslys,”
I responded, “for what she told you was absolutely
true. A week ago to-day I was staying at No. ...
The Crescent, Bath, and at three o’clock in
the afternoon I was sitting at the bedside of my friend,
who had injured his head in a fall, and had it tied
up in bandages; and amongst other bits of gossip, I
narrated to him a very amusing anecdote concerning
Lady B-, whom I have only just
met, for the first time, in London.”
Now M. Deslys could not possibly have
known, excepting through psychical agency, where I
had been staying a week before that time, or what I
had been doing at three o’clock on that identical
afternoon.
Automatic Writing
I have frequently experimented in
automatic writing. Who that is interested in
the occult has not! But I cannot say I have ever
had any astonishing results. However, though
my own experiences are not worth recording, I have
heard of many extraordinary results obtained by others-results
from automatic messages that one can not help believing
could only be due to superphysical agency.
Table-turning
I do not think there is anything superphysical
in merely turning the table, or making it move across
the room, or causing it to fall over on to the ground,
and to get up again. I am of the opinion that
all this is due to animal magnetism, and to the unconscious
efforts of the audience, who are ever anxious for
the ghost to come and something startling to happen.
The ladies, in particular, I would point out, press
a little hard with their dainty but determined hands,
or with their self-willed knees resort to a few sly
pushes. When this does not happen, I think it
is quite possible that an elemental or some other equally
undesirable type of phantasm does actually attend
the séance, and, emphasising its arrival by sundry
noises, is responsible for many, if not all the phenomena.
On the other hand, I certainly think that ninety per
cent. of the rappings and the manifestations of musical
enthusiasts is due to trickery on the part of the
medium, or, if there be no professional medium present,
to an over-zealous sitter.
But since ghosts can and do show themselves
spontaneously in haunted houses, why the necessity
of musical instruments, professional medium, and sitting
round a table with fingers linked? Surely, when
one comes to think of it, the modus operandi
of the séance, besides being extremely undignified,
is somewhat superfluous. Tin trumpets, twopenny
tambourines, and concertinas are all very well in their
way, but, try how I will, I cannot associate them
with ghosts. What phantasm of any standing at
all would be attracted by such baubles? Surely
only the phantasms of the very silliest of servant
girls, of incurable idiots, and of advanced imbéciles.
But even they, I think, might be “above it,”
in which case the musical instruments, tin trumpets,
tambourines, and concertinas, disdained by the immaterial,
must be manipulated by the material! And this
rule with regard to table-turning, the manipulation
of musical instruments, etc., equally applies
to materialisation. I have no doubt that genuine
phantasms of the earth-bound or elementals do occasionally
show themselves, but I am quite sure in nine cases
out of ten the manifestations are manifestations of
living flesh and blood.
Charms and Checks against Ghosts
“When I feel the approach of
the superphysical, I always cross myself,” an
old lady once remarked to me; and this is what many
people do; indeed, the sign of the cross is the most
common mode of warding off evil. Whether it is
really efficacious is doubtful. I, for my part,
make use of the sign, involuntarily rather than otherwise,
because the custom is innate in me, and is, perhaps,
with various other customs, the heritage of all my
race from ages past; but I cannot say it always or
even often answers, for ghosts frequently manifest
themselves to me in spite of it. Then there is
the magic circle which is described differently by
divers writers. According to Mr Dyer, in his Ghost
World, pp. 167-168, the circle was prepared
thus: “A piece of ground was usually chosen,
nine feet square, at the full extent of which parallel
lines were drawn, one within the other, having sundry
crosses and triangles described between them, close
to which was formed the first or outer circle; then
about half a foot within the same, a second circle
was described, and within that another square corresponding
to the first, the centre of which was the spot where
the master and associate were to be placed. The
vacancies formed by the various lines and angles of
the figure were filled up by the holy names of God,
having crosses and triangles described between them....
The reason assigned for the use of the circles was,
that so much ground being blessed and consecrated
by such holy words and ceremonies as they made use
of in forming it, had a secret force to expel all
evil spirits from the bounds thereof, and, being sprinkled
with pure sanctified water, the ground was purified
from all uncleanliness; besides, the holy names of
God being written over every part of it, its forces
became so powerful that no evil spirits had ability
to break through it, or to get at the magician and
his companion, by reason of the antipathy in nature
they bore to these sacred names. And the reason
given for the triangles was, that if the spirits were
not easily brought to speak the truth, they might by
the exorcist be conjured to enter the same, where,
by virtue of the names of the essence and divinity
of God, they could speak nothing but what was true
and right.”
Again according to Mr Dyer, when a
spot was haunted by the spirit of a murderer or suicide
who lay buried there, a magic circle was made just
over the grave, and he who was daring enough to venture
there, at midnight, preferably when the elements were
at their worst, would conjure the ghost to appear
and give its reason for haunting the spot. In
answer to the summons there was generally a long, unnatural
silence, which was succeeded by a tremendous crash,
when the phantasm would appear, and, in ghastly, hollow
tones answer all the questions put to it. Never
once would it encroach on the circle, and on its interrogator
promising to carry out its wishes, it would suddenly
vanish and never again walk abroad. If the hauntings
were in a house, the investigator entered the haunted
room at midnight with a candle, and compass, and a
crucifix or Bible. After carefully shutting the
door, and describing a circle on the floor, in which
he drew a cross, he placed within it a chair, and
table, and on the latter, put the crucifix, a Bible,
and a lighted candle. He then sat down on the
chair and awaited the advent of the apparition, which
either entered noiselessly or with a terrific crash.
On the promise that its wishes would be fulfilled,
the ghost withdrew, and there were no more disturbances.
Sometimes the investigator, if he were a priest, would
sprinkle the phantasm with holy water and sometimes
make passes over it with the crucifix, but the results
were always the same; it responded to all the questions
that were put to it and never troubled the house again.
How different from what happens in
reality! Though I have seen and interrogated
many ghosts, I have never had a reply, or anything
in the shape of a reply, nor perceived any alteration
in their expression that would in any way lead me
to suppose they had understood me; and as to exorcism-well,
I know of innumerable cases where it has been tried,
and tried by the most pious of clergy-clergy
of all denominations-and singularly failed.
It is true I have never experimented with a magic
circle, but, somehow, I have not much faith in it.
In China the method of expelling ghosts
from haunted houses has been described as follows:-An
altar containing tapers and incense sticks is erected
in the spot where the manifestations are most frequent.
A Taoist priest is then summoned, and enters the house
dressed in a red robe, with blue stockings and a black
cap. He has with him a sword, made of the wood
of the peach or date tree, the hilt and guard of which
are covered with red cloth. Written in ink on
the blade of the sword is a charm against ghosts.
Advancing to the altar, the priest deposits his sword
on it. He then prepares a mystic scroll, which
he burns, collecting and emptying the ashes into a
cup of spring water. Next, he takes the sword
in his right hand and the cup in his left, and, after
taking seven paces to the left and eight to the right,
he says: “Gods of heaven and earth, invest
me with the heavy seal, in order that I may eject
from this dwelling-house all kinds of evil spirits.
Should any disobey me, give me power to deliver them
for safe custody to rulers of such demons.”
Then, addressing the ghost in a loud voice, he says:
“As quick as lightning depart from this house.”
This done, he takes a bunch of willow, dips it in
the cup, and sprinkles it in the east, west, north,
and south corners of the house, and, laying it down,
picks up his sword and cup, and, going to the east
corner of the building, calls out: “I have
the authority, Tai-Shaong-Loo-Kivan.” He
then fills his mouth with water from the cup, and
spits it out on the wall, exclaiming: “Kill
the green evil spirits which come from unlucky stars,
or let them be driven away.” This ceremony
he repeats at the south, west, and north corners respectively,
substituting, in turn, red, white, and yellow in the
place of green. The attendants then beat gongs,
drums, and tom-toms, and the exorcist cries out:
“Evil spirits from the east, I send back to
the east; evil spirits from the south, I send back
to the south,” and so on. Finally, he goes
to the door of the house, and, after making some mystical
signs in the air, manoeuvres with his sword, congratulates
the owner of the establishment on the expulsion of
the ghosts, and demands his fee.
In China the sword is generally deemed
to have psychic properties, and is often to be seen
suspended over a bed to scare away ghosts. Sometimes
a horse’s tail-a horse being also
considered extremely psychic-or a rag dipped
in the blood from a criminal’s head, are used
for the same purpose. But no matter how many,
or how varied, the precautions we take, ghosts will
come, and nothing will drive them away. The only
protection I have ever found to be of any practical
value in preventing them from materialising is a powerful
light. As a rule they cannot stand that,
and whenever I have turned a pocket flashlight on them,
they have at once dematerialised; often, however,
materialising again immediately the light has been
turned off.
The cock was, at one time, (and still
is in some parts of the world) regarded as a psychic
bird; it being thought that phantasms invariably took
their departure as soon as it began to crow. This,
however, is a fallacy. As ghosts appear at all
hours of the day and night, in season and out of season,
I fear it is only too obvious that their manifestations
cannot be restricted within the limits of any particular
time, and that their coming and going, far from being
subject to the crowing of a cock, however vociferous,
depend entirely on themselves.