The Search for Bridey Murphy (14 page)

“We know for a fact, beyond any possibility of dispute, that the range of vision of the human eye is very limited. The ether is literally filled with substances which cannot be seen by the human eye. We know, for example, that the room in which you and I are now sitting is filled with radio waves and television waves; these waves are passing through walls and all the matter in the room, including our bodies. Yet to our eyes these waves are invisible. The same is true of X rays, ultra-violet rays, alpha rays, beta rays, gamma rays, cosmic rays, and atomic radiation. Nobody doubts the reality of these forces—an X ray can burn us up, and atomic radiation can destroy us. Nevertheless, the finite human eye is blind to all these energies; it has a very narrow band of vision.

“Is it not also possible, then, that the force which animates our bodies is a sort of
high-freqaency electromagnetic charge
which is beyond the very narrow range of our eyesight? You can call this high-frequency charge by whatever name you prefer—psyche, mind, spirit, soul. But in any case the fact that it cannot be perceived by our weak little eyes should not be given undue weight.

“Edgar Cayce—and millions before him
²
—simply added another dimension. He said, in effect, that this high-frequency electromagnetic change still remains intact upon death of the physical
body. The old heap of matter, the body, is worn out, and so it is discarded, buried. But the inner charge—the psyche, I usually call it—persists, and this is the substance which incorporates the consciousness, the memories, the impressions of a lifetime.

“Cayce maintained, furthermore, that this ‘electrical’ charge could later be infused into an embryo or body which is about to be born.

“Maybe it will help you to look at it this way; When my television set is working, the screen is alive with pictures and the speaker is noisy with sound. But the prime energy which is responsible for all this action is nothing more than invisible television waves. We can’t see those high-frequency waves; nevertheless, we know that they are present.

“Now when my TV set wears out—when the tubes are shot, the transformer shorted—we still have no question that the high-frequency waves are yet very much in existence. And if a new TV chassis is moved in, those unseen television waves are once more transformed into a kind of energy which can be seen by our eyes and heard by our ears. That high-frequency force was there all the time, but it could not be registered by worn-out—dead—equipment.

“To carry the analogy a little further, let us consider an excellent TV set in perfect operating condition. Even though that set is perfect it will deliver neither picture nor sound—no, not even a commercial—unless those invisible high-frequency waves enter it.”

I liked the engineer’s analogy. This kind of language—rather than metaphysical terminology, with which I could never quite feel at ease—made it simpler for me to see the picture.

After all these interviews regarding the Cayce story I was eager to resume my company’s business. One of my assignments on this eastern trip was concerned with checking the company’s investment portfolio with a top-notch New York security analyst, who is sometimes referred to by his coterie as the Wizard of Wall Street. With this representative of the stock market, I was sure that I could shake loose from the subject of reincarnation and get my mind back to more mundane matters, such as the possibility of American Telephone and Telegraph’s increasing its traditional nine-dollar dividend—and whether Montgomery Ward, with more than eighty-two dollars of net current assets for every share of
stock, was a particularly attractive offering in view of its current market price of only sixty dollars per share.
³
Yes, this conference should leave Edgar Cayce and his theme far behind.

But no such luck.

I had been with the Wall Streeter only about half an hour when I spotted on his desk a book of short stories by Kipling. During a lull in our conversation, therefore, I dropped a comment merely intended to fill the void. I said what everyone already knew— that Kipling was a master of the short story. The security analyst, of course, agreed. He said, furthermore, that he had just been reading a particularly interesting Kipling story entitled, “The Finest Story in the World.

“It’s about reincarnation,” he said.

Here we go again, I thought.

From this point, naturally, it didn’t take me long to summarize my own current interest in the topic, and I soon learned, to my amazement, that this financier’s reading interests had not been confined to the
Wall Street Journal
. He had long been curious about the problem of rebirth, and he quickly recommended several reference sources, suggesting that I check them myself. One of the sources he cited was to be found in the third chapter of John in the New Testament, in which Nicodemus (a leader of the Pharisees, a Jewish sect) questioned Jesus about spiritual truths. The Wall Street analyst was able to quote the words of Jesus without even turning to his New Testament:

“Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.”

Then again: “And no man hath ascended up to heaven, but he that came down from heaven, even the Son of man which is in heaven.”

When I left the financial district I took the subway and headed for the New York Public Library, I wanted to check the Kipling story—the one about reincarnation. I had read a lot of Kipling but I could not remember any reference to reincarnation.

But sure enough, there it was: “The Finest Story in the World.” And a fine tale it is, too.

While I was still in the library I thought it would be a good
idea to check the card file to learn whether there might be any other, interesting contributions on the same topic. I came across an interesting definition:
Reincarnation is a plan whereby imperishable conscious beings are supplied with physical bodies appropriate to their stage of growth
.

As I continued checking I was stunned at what I found.

The reincarnation researchers had really invaded the place! There were literally hundreds of references—books, poems, researches, anthologies. In almost every conceivable form of literature the scholars of rebirth were having their say. And one of the first statements I read—written by Professor T. H. Huxley seemed to be pointed directly at me: “None but very hasty thinkers will reject it [reincarnation] on the grounds of inherent absurdity.”

My check on the card file turned into an extended study which started at that moment and has never stopped. I was surprised again and again by encountering great names whom I would never have expected to be even remotely interested in the matter of reincarnation. Even the archcynic, Voltaire, had something to contribute: “It is not more surprising to be born twice than once; everything in nature is resurrection.”

Another very earthy chap, none other than the brilliantly versatile Benjamin Franklin, made several allusions to the reincarnation principle and even suggested, at the age of only twenty-three, that his own epitaph should read as follows:

As to the poets, it appeared that they had enrolled almost
enmasse
into the ranks of the believers. Included in the list were
Tennyson, Browning, Swinburne, Rossetti, Longfellow, Whitman, Donne, Goethe, Milton, Maeterlinck. John Masefield, England’s Poet Laureate, wrote:

Literary notables, philosophers, and thinkers had made their contributions too. Cicero, Virgil, Plato, Pythagoras, Caesar, Bruno, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Victor Hugo, Thomas Huxley, Sir Walter Scott, Ibsen, Spinoza—they were all there. Schopenhauer defined his position in no uncertain terms: “Were an Asiatic to ask me my definition of Europe, I should be forced to answer him: It is that part of the world which is haunted by the incredible delusion that man was created out of nothing, and that his present birth is his first entrance into life.”
⁴

There were, moreover, repeated references to the subject of reincarnation as found in the New Testament. At least one book was devoted exclusively to that theme.
⁵
The author wrote, “That reincarnation, not only in the case of men, but also as the law of life that applies to all men, is distinctly taught in the New Testament has been shown. To dispute this point is to deny that the authors of that collection of writings meant what they said in unmistakable language. To reject what they said is to impugn their teachings.”

One of the most interesting books I found was a studious, thoughtful report called
The Problem of Rebirth
by the Honorable Ralph Shirley. The book is almost a full-scale consideration of the subject’s many facets, and it presents a number of impressive cases.

One of the most extraordinary of these cases is that of little Alexandrina Samona, a doctor’s daughter, who died when she was only five years old (March 15, 1910). The mother was particularly distressed over the loss of her daughter, and her grief was aggravated by the realization that in all probability she would have no more children. As a result of a miscarriage and a subsequent
operation (before Alexandrina’s death) doctors seriously doubted that she could ever again become pregnant.

Three days after the child’s death the mother had a dream. In this vivid dream Alexandrina came to her mother and made an effort to mitigate the woman’s sorrow. “Mother, do not cry any more,” implored the girl. “I have not left you for good. I shall come back again little, like this.” Then Alexandrina (in the dream) made a motion with her hand which apparently intended to convey the idea that she would come back again as a baby.

This was not much solace for the skeptical mother. In the first place the doctors had already made it clear that the odds were against the possibility of her ever bearing another child. Furthermore, she had no respect for the principle of reincarnation, which would seem to be involved here. Her grief, therefore, continued unabated.

Nevertheless, the dreams persisted. Much to her surprise, moreover, she learned on April 10 that she was again pregnant. Still, though, Mrs. Samona was doubtful. In view of her poor health and the opinion of the medics, she felt she could not successfully give birth to another child. But Alexandrina (again in a dream) insisted, “Little Mother, do not cry any more, as I shall be born once more with you as my mother, and before Christmas I shall be with you again.”

Then, at a later date, the girl added something which made the mother more skeptical than ever: “Mother, there is another one as well within you.” The girl made it clear, in short, that when she was born this time she would be accompanied by a little sister. Naturally this seemed ridiculous to the ailing mother. She doubted that she could bear one child, let alone two. Furthermore, there had never been twins in the family.

On November 22, however, Mrs. Samona gave birth to twin daughters. One was altogether unlike the first Alexandrina; but the other, whom the parents again named Alexandrina, bore an astonishing resemblance, both physically and mentally, to the deceased child.

Alexandrina II was, like the first, left-handed, she had the same disposition, likes, dislikes, idiosyncrasies, and speech habits. And, like the first Alexandrina, she had hyperemia of the left eye, seborrhea of the right ear, and a slight facial asymmetry.

An even more impressive incident developed when the twins
were ten years old. A family trip to Monreale had been proposed, the mother adding, “When you go to Monreale, you will see such sights as you have never seen before.”

“But, Mother, I know Monreale,” replied Alexandrina. “I have seen it already.” When Mrs. Samona protested that she couldn’t have yet made this trip, the girl stubbornly persisted in her contention. “Oh yes, I went there. Do you not recollect that there was a great church with a very large statue of a man with his arms held open on the roof? And don’t you remember that we went there with a lady who had horns, and that we met some little red priests in the town?”

Finally the mother remembered that some months before the death of the first Alexandrina the family had, indeed, made the trip, taking with them a lady suffering from disfiguring excrescences on her forehead. Just before entering the church at Monreale they had met with a group of Greek priests whose robes were decorated with red ornamentation.

The family recalled that all these details had made a particularly deep impression on Alexandrina I.

The Honorable Ralph Shirley then goes on to list a considerable number of attestations and corroborations by eminent persons and officials who were acquainted with the circumstances as they developed. He concludes: “It is obvious that the doctor took all pains to secure evidence on the question at issue which should satisfy, if not the most bigoted skeptic, at least the most intelligent scientific investigator.”
⁶

There were scores of provocative cases. One example, still without satisfactory explanation, was presented in a book by the late Professor Flournoy of the University of Geneva. More than half a century ago this psychologist called attention to a Swiss girl who, while in a trance, claimed to have lived before in the kingdom of Kanara during the fifteenth century. Furthermore, the girl, who had never finished grammar school or been outside the canton of Geneva, spoke perfect Hindu words and phrases and gave forth a plethora of detail about Kanara and a very obscure prince named Sivrouka. A scholar verified the proper usage of her Hindu; and a researcher in Calcutta confirmed the accuracy of her political and
historical knowledge, which seemed to be available only in a little-known book of the history of India which had been written in Sanskrit and was admittedly beyond the reach of the Swiss lass.