i. 35), it acted as a male human body would have done, and impregnated
Mary, as Jupiter did Leda. It is rather my desire to call attention to the ideas actually existing, probably in all Christendom, and certainly in Great Britain, respecting "ghosts." They may be thus described.
It is believed by many that certain individuals have, during their lifetime, a power of determining that some immaterial part of their living body shall, after death, assume the figure and proportions possessed by the person during life, as well as his clothes, &c., and act as if this second self had a real existence, recognizable by men, animals, and even candles,* and a definite worldly purpose. In other cases it is assumed, that the defunct has not had any particular desire to return to life until after his death has taken place; but that his spirit, having as much power to think without its brains as with them, makes itself apparent with a distinct object, formed, not in the living body, but in the corpse. The purposes generally attributed to ghosts are, to give information about murder or money, to compel religious rites over their dead body, or to punish a relentless oppressor with daily horror. Still further, some suppose that ghosts are doomed for a certain time to walk the earth, and suffer during the day in fires perpetual, till, in some unknown way, the sins of their bodies have been purged away, or until some one, living, has made an atonement for sins committed and unpardoned during the lifetime of the "revenant" (Shakespeare in Hamlet). The so-called disembodied spirits are supposed to be able to operate upon matter, to throw our atmosphere into waves, producing vision and hearing, and to move from one spot to another. They have, still farther, the power of making and emitting light, and are so partial to using the faculty, that they prefer appearing by night, and in darkness.
* "And the lights in the chamber burnt blue."
--Alonzo the Brave.--Lewis.
Of the real existence of such ghostly beings no devout Romanist can fail to convince himself; for his Church, which claims to be infallible, has provided special services for combating them, and a Papal priest has, many a time, claimed, and attempted to exercise, the power to drive what the French call "revenans," from the earth into the Red Sea. The saintly annals of the Church of Rome are filled with stories of angels, gods, and devils, who have appeared to holy men of old, either to applaud their conduct, or to try their faith The legends about Saint Dunstan and Saint Anthony are too well known to require repetition here, and it would be idle to refer to some particularly good ghost story, when everybody knows so many.
The general credit obtained by the tales referred to has been attributed by many to the teaching of the Bible. The apparition of Samuel to Saul; the intercourse between the angel Raphael and Tobit; the manifestation of some celestial beings to Zacharias (Luke i. 11); to Mary (v. 28); to certain shepherds (Luke ii. 9); the statement that some men have entertained angels unawares (Heb. xiii. 2); the transfiguration scene, described in Matt, xvii. and Mark ix., in which Moses and Elias are said to have returned from heaven to earth, with the design of comforting Jesus; and the story of Peter and the angel, told in Acts xii. 6-15--all indicate a firm belief in the existence of ghosts, and form the Christian's warrant for believing in them.
But an extended knowledge of the belief entertained by people other than the followers of Jesus shows that the idea in question is wholly independent of both Judaism and Christianity. A credence in ghosts is profound in Japan, and it resembles, in every respect, that which has been so long current in Europe. If any one, for example, will read a story in A B. Mitford's _Tales of Old Japan_ (Macmillan; London, 1871), entitled, "The Ghost of Sakura," a village, he will scarcely be able to divest himself of the idea that the legend is of British origin. Without going into the reasons which have convinced me that the writer has fairly given a purely Japanese tale, and one wholly untainted by Popish legends, I may shortly indicate the main points in the narrative, which purports to be a true one. A certain lord behaved very badly to his tenants, increasing the imposts upon them until life became a burden. By ordinary petitions he was unmoved, and it was necessary to have recourse to unusual means. The adoption of a promising plan was, in the mind of its proposer, a positive passport to a cruel death, by crucifixion. In a touching leave-taking of his wife, he ends his speech with the words--"I give my life to allay the misery of the people of this estate" (vol. ii, p. 12). His proceedings save the poor peasants, for whom he sacrifices himself, from utter ruin--every grievance which they have is redressed; but their saviour is condemned to be crucified, in which punishment his wife is included, and his sons are to be beheaded before his face. Unable to save the man, his nearest male friends become priests, and end their days praying and making offerings on behalf of their friends' souls, and those of the wife and offspring (p. 25), and they collect money enough to erect six bronze memorial Buddhas. "Thus," the tale goes on to say, "did these men, for the sake of Sogoro and his family, give themselves up to works of devotion; and the other villagers also brought food to soothe the spirits of the dead, and prayed for their entry into Paradise; and, as litanies were repeated without intermission, there can be no doubt that Sogoro attained salvation." The next sentence is a Buddhist text, viz.:--
"In Paradise, where the blessings of God are distributed without favour, the soul learns its faults by the measure of the rewards given. The lusts of the flesh are abandoned, and the soul, purified, attains to the glory of Buddha." I scarcely need mention, to those interested in Buddhism, that this conception of Paradise is very different to that which many persons uphold to be "nothingness." The Japanese "Nirvana" is evidently not annihilation.
When Sogoro was to die, the friendly priests entreated the authorities that they might have his body, so as to be able to bury it decently; but the request was only granted after the corpse had been exposed three days and three nights.
At the time appointed, Sogoro and his wife are tied to two crosses, and their children brought out for decapitation. The utterance of the eldest son (æt. 13) is very touching--"Oh my father and mother, I am going before you to Paradise, that happy country, to wait for you. My little brothers and I will be on the banks of the river Sandzu,* and stretch out our hands, and help you across. Farewell, all you who have come to see us die; and now, please cut off my head at once." With this he stretched out his neck, murmuring a last prayer (p. 28).
* The Buddhist Styx, which separates Paradise from Hell, across which the dead are ferried by an old woman, for whom a small piece of money is buried with them. I may add that such a custom obtains amongst the lower orders in Ireland to this day.
At length it is the parents turn to die, and thus speaks the wife--"Remember, my husband, that from the first you had made up your mind to this fate. What though our bodies be disgracefully exposed on these crosses? (compare Gal. iii. 13). We have the promises of the Gods before us; therefore, mourn not. Let us fix our minds upon death; we are drawing near to Paradise, and shall soon be with the saints. Be calm, my husband. Let us cheerfully lay down our lives for the good of many. Man lives but for one generation, his name for many. A good name is more to be prized than life." "Well said wife; what though we are punished for the many? our petition was successful, and there is nothing left to wish for..... For myself, I care not; but that my wife and children should be punished also is too much.... Let my lord fence himself in with iron walls, yet shall my spirit burst through them, and crush his bones, as a return for this deed." As he said this, he looked like the demon Razetsu (p. 30). The execution is completed by thrusting a spear into the side until it comes out at the opposite shoulder, and as it is withdrawn, the blood streams out like a fountain. Ere Sogoro dies, he again threatens his lord to revenge himself upon him in a manner never to be forgotten, and adds--"As a sign, when I am dead, my head shall turn and face towards the castle. When you see this, doubt not that my words shall come true" (p. 31). As Sogoro laid down his life for a noble cause, he was canonized, and became a tutelar deity of his lord's family. After the execution, those subordinates of the lord of the land were dismissed from their office, who, by their culpable and vile conduct, had made such a catastrophe necessary--a retribution that reminds the reader of that which is said to have fallen on the Jews, because of a death by crucifixion which they brought about. The Japanese historian then goes on (p. 34)--"In the history of the world, from the dark ages down to the present time, there are few instances of one man laying down his life for the many, as Sogoro did; noble and peasant praise him alike."
Four years after this the ghosts of Sogoro and of his wife and family begin to torment their late cruel lord. His lady is gradually frightened to death; the crucified couple appear to her and to her husband in a far more fearful form than Jesus is said to have appeared to Constantine. They threaten both with the pains of Hell, and declare that they have come to take them there; and with them come other ghosts, who hoot, yell, laugh, and come and go at pleasure. No one, not even priests, could quiet the frightful sounds, or get rid of the horrible sights. Violence was wholly unavailing; mystic rites, incantations, and prayers were alike useless. The visions appeared at first by day, but subsequently by night. They were visible to everybody. But, after a long consultation, the once brutal, but now humbled, nobleman agrees to erect a shrine to the crucified man, and to pay him divine honours. This was done: Sogoro became a saint, under the name of Sogo Daimiyo, and the ghosts appeared no more. But terrible misfortunes fall upon the Lord Kotsuke, and he "began to feel that the death of his wife, and his own present misfortunes, were a just retribution for the death of Sogoro and his wife and children, and he was as one awakened from a dream. Then, night and morning, in his repentance, he offered up prayers to the sainted spirit of the dead farmer, acknowledged and bewailed his crime, vowing that, if his own family were spared from ruin, and re-established, intercession should be made at the court of the Mikado on behalf of the spirit of Sogoro, so that, being worshipped with even greater honours than before, his name should be handed down to all generations" (p. 43). In a foot note we learn that the Mikado of Japan could, like the Pope of Rome, confer posthumous divine honours upon whom he pleased. The tale tells us that, by the means just before alluded to, the spirit of Sogoro was appeased, and then positively became his quondam enemy's patron saint, and was universally respected in all that part of the country. His shrine was made beautiful as a gem, and night and day the devout worshipped at it Mitford adds (p. 47)--"The belief in ghosts appears to be as universal as that of the immortality of the soul upon which it depends. Both in China and Japan the departed spirit is invested with the power of revisiting the earth, and, in a visible form, tormenting its enemies, and haunting those places where the perishable part of it mourned and suffered. Haunted houses are slow to find tenants, for ghosts almost always come with revengeful intent; indeed, the owners of such houses will almost pay men to live in them, such is the dread which they inspire, and the anxiety to blot out the stigma."
The parallel between an episode in Palestine, and that herein described as having occurred in Japan, will be completed if the reader remembers the passage in the Epistle to the Romans, wherein Paul, after speaking of the fall of the Jews, subsequent to the death of Jesus--who gave his life for others--remarks, "if the casting away of them be the reconciling of the world, what shall the receiving of them be but life from the dead" (Rom. xi. 15).
In addition to the ghost story above described, many others are detailed by Mr Mitford that are exact counterparts of some of those most firmly believed by orthodox Christians, and most commonly met with in novelettes and magazines. We give a digest of them--
A paterfamilias is thrown into prison for gambling. After being confined some time, he returns home one night pale and thin, and, after receiving congratulations, he tells the friends assembled that he is permitted to leave the prison that evening by the jailers, for that he is to be returned to them the next day publicly. When the time arrives, they are summoned to remove his corpse--he had died the night before, and it was his ghost which had appeared. Compare Acts v. 19, and xii. 7-14.
The next runs thus--A cruel policeman had a housemaid, who broke one of ten plates which he valued--she confessed the accident to the mistress. When the master came to hear of the loss, he tied the girl to a cupboard, and cut off one of her fingers daily. She managed to escape, and drowned herself in the garden well. Every night afterwards there was a noise from the well, counting up to nine, and then came a burst of grief. All the retainers left the place; the magistrate could not perform his duties, and was dismissed. The ghost was ultimately laid by a priest.
After recounting this story, Mitford remarks--"The laying of disturbed spirits appears to form one of the regular functions of the Buddhist priests; at least, we find them playing a conspicuous part in every ghost story" (p. 50).
The next tale is one of a haunted house. No paying tenant will live there, but a poor fencing master takes it for nothing. He first hears a terrific noise in the garden pond, and, on looking, sees a dark cloud enshrining a bald head. He inquires, and discovers that a former tenant, ten years ago, murdered a money-lender, and threw his head into the water. The actual tenant now drains the pond, finds the skull, takes it for burial to a temple, causing prayers to be offered up for the repose of the murdered man's soul. Thus the ghost was laid, and appeared no more. This tale serves as an additional means of recognizing the descent of Papism from Buddhism.
Returning once again to Europe, we find that the ancient Greeks had not only an idea of the resurrection of the dead, and life after death, but that departed spirits could be summoned to appear by the living. For example, at the opening of the eleventh book of the Odyssey, Ulysses recounts how-he offered a certain sacrifice, and tells us that, after it, the souls of the perished dead came forth from Erebus--betrothed girls and youths--much enduring old men, and tender virgins having a newly grieved mind--and many Mars-renowned men, wounded with brass-tipped spears, possessing gore-smeared arms, who in great numbers were wandering about the trench, on different sides, with a divine clamour, and pale fear seized upon me.... At first the soul of my companion, Elpenor, came, for he was not yet buried.... The shade addressed the hero, and, after telling the manner of his own death, entreats to have his corpse burned, and a tomb to be placed over it After this shade, appears Ulysses' mother, then Theban Tiresias, having a golden sceptre (Bohn's translation, pp. 147, 8). The rest of the book is made up of a number of dialogues between the traveller and the illustrious dead.
The following, from Herodotus (vi. 68, 69), might have been introduced into chapter viii, for it is not only an example of a ghost, but of supernatural generation--but it is most appropriate here. Demaratus, having been twitted by certain persons that he was not the son of his putative father, who was known to be impotent, and that he was begotten by a mean man--a feeder of asses--adjures his mother, by a most solemn oath, to tell the truth. She replies--When Ariston had taken me to his own house, on the third night from the first a spectre, resembling Ariston, came to me, and having lain with me, put on me a crown that it had, it departed, and afterwards Ariston came; but when he saw me with the crown, he asked who it was that gave it me. I said, he did; but he would not admit it.... Ariston, seeing that I affirmed with an oath, discovered that the event was superhuman; and, in the first place, the crown proved to have come from the shrine... situate near the palace gates, which they call Astrabacus's; and, in the next place, the seers pronounced that it was the hero himself. We need not dwell upon the miracle, being only desirous to show that, in the time of Herodotus, ideas of the return of departed spirits to earth were common--had it not been so, the story would not have been conceived. See also _Herod_ iv. 14, 15; _Æsch Theb_. 710; _cf. Porson on Eur_. Or. 401; _Æsch Ag_. 415.
Perhaps the most striking example of a phantom is given in Herodotus