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He Was Haunted By an Invisible Presence!
The facts which I am about to relate happened to myself some sixteen or eighteen years ago, at which time I was still young enough to enjoy a life of constant travelling. There are, indeed, many less agreeable ways in which an unbeneficent parson may contrive to scorn delights and live laborious days. In remote places where strangers are scarce, his annual visit is an important evet; and though at the close of a long day’s work he would sometimes prefer the quiet of a Victorian mansion, he generally finds himself the destined guest of the rector or the squire. It rests with himself to turn these opportunities to account. If he makes himself pleasant, he forms agreeable friendships and sees Victorian home-life under one of its most attractive aspects; and sometimes, even in these days of universal common-placeness, he may have the luck to meet with an adventure. My first appointment was to Llanda Villa ; which was largely peopled with my personal friends and connections. It was, therefore, much to my annoyance that I found myself, after a could of years very pleasant work, transferred to a new teaching position. I now spent half my time in hired vehicles and lonely country inns. I had been in possession of this position for some three months or so, and winter was near at hand, when I paid my first visit of inspection to the Winchester mansion. It was a dull, raw afternoon of mid-November, growing duller and more raw as the day waned and the east wind blew keener. I found the foot path without difficulty. It led me across a barren slope divided by stone fences, with here and there a group of smaller Victorian houses and gazebos. #RandolphHarris 1 of 14
A light fog, meanwhile, was creeping up from the east, and the dusk was gathering fast. Now, to lose one’s way on such an expansive ranch and at such an hour would be disagreeable enough, and the footpath—a trodden track already half obliterated—would be indistinguishable enough in the course of another ten minutes, but the nine story look out tower, a top the mansion, stood erect as a compass guiding visitors to the bizarre and beautiful rambling mansion. Looking anxiously ahead, up to this moment, I had not met a living soul. However, then I saw a man emerging from the fog and coming along the path. As we neared each other—I advancing rapidly; he slowly—I observed that he dragged the left foot, limping as he walked. It was, however, so dark and so misty, that not till we were within half a dozen yards of each other could I see that he wore a dark suit and an Anglican felt hat, and looked something like a dissenting minister. As soon as we were within speaking distance, I addressed him. “Can you tell me, I said, about how much longer it will take to get to the Winchester mansion?” He came on, looking straight before him; taking no notice of my question; apparently not hearing it. “I beg your pardon,” I said, raising my voice; “but how much longer will it take on this path to get to the Winchester?” He had passed on without pausing; without looking at me; I could almost have believed, without seeing me! I stopped, with the words on my lips; then turned to look after—perhaps, to follow—him. But instead of following, I stood betwixted. What had become of him? #RandolphHarris 2 of 14
And what lad was that going up the path by which I had just come—that tall lad, half-running, half-walking, with a fishing-rod over his shoulder? I could have taken my oath that I had neither met nor passed him. Where then had he come from? And where was the man to whom I had spoken not three seconds ago and who, at his limping pace, could have made more than a couple of yards in the time? My stupefaction was such that I stood quite still, looking after the lad with the fishing-rod till he disappeared in the gloom under the park-palings. Was I dreaming? Darkness, meanwhile, had closed in apace, and, dreaming or not dreaming, I must push on, or find myself benighted. So I hurried forward, turning my back on the last gleam of daylight, and plunging deeper into the fog at every step. I was, however, close upon my journey’s end. The path ended at a turnstile; the turnstile opened upon a steep lane; and at the bottom of the land, down which I stumbled among stones and ruts, I came in sight of the welcome glare of a blacksmith’s forge. Here, then, was the Winchester. I found myself at the door of the Winchester mansion. When I was sitting in the cozy drawing room, I saw Mrs. Winchester, and she looked like an angel. Spreading loveliness everywhere, over all with whom she came in touch, over good and evil. When a small number of people often come together in the same room, a tradition readily develops as to where each individual has one’s place, one’s station; it becomes a kind of picture a person can unroll for oneself when one so desires, a map of the terrain. So it is also with us in the Winchester mansion—together we form a picture. We were to drink tea here this evening. #RandolphHarris 3 of 14
Mrs. Winchester strives for an air of mystery. She wants to whisper and usually does it so well that she becomes entirely mute; I make no secret of my effusions to Merriam, her niece, an estimate of how many quarts of milk it takes for one pound of butter through the medium of cream and the dialectic of the butter churn. Indeed, it is not only something any young girl can listen to without hard, but, what is far more unusual, it is a solid and fundamental and edifying conversation that is equally ennobling to the head and the heart. And is no nature magnificent and wise in what she produces, what a precious gift is butter, what a glorious accomplishment of nature and art! It is a curious picture we make together. Mrs. Winchester almost vanishes before our eyes in pure agronomy; we go into the kitchen and the cellars, up into the attic, look at the chicken and ducks, geese et cetera. This was fascinating to me. But it could just be that I was the kind of young man who became old prematurely; it is possible. I sat late over the fire, and by the time I went to bed, I had well nigh forgotten my adventure with the man who vanished so mysteriously and the boy who seemed to come from nowhere. Next morning, finding I had abundant time at my disposal. What a reinvigorating power I felt from the Winchester—not the freshness of the morning air, not the sighing of the wind, not the coolness of the sea, not the fragrance of wine, its aroma—nothing in the World has this reinvigorating power. In this way the days go by. Mrs. Winchester seemed perfect happy in her mansion. Her bedroom faced the courtyard. Sometimes she stands on the balcony for a moment, and at night she looks up at the stars, unseen by all. #RandolphHarris 4 of 14
In these nocturnal hours, I walk around like a ghost. Then I forget everything, have no plans, no reckonings, cast understanding overboard, expand and fortify my chest with deep sighs, a motion I need in order not to suffer from my systematic conduct. Others are virtuous by day, sin at night; I am dissimulation by day—at night I am sheer inspiration. When I notice it, far off on the horizon there comes a flashing intimation from a quite different World, to the astonishment of Mrs. Winchester as well as Merriam. Mrs. Winchester sees the lightning but hears nothing; Merriam hears the voice but sees nothing. However, at the same moment everything is in its quiet order; the conversation between Mrs. Winchester and me proceeds in its uniform way, like post horses in the stillness of the night the; the sad hum of the samovar accompanies it. At such moments, it can sometimes be uncomfortable in the drawing room, especially for Merriam. She has no one she can talk with or listen to. I can well understand that it must seem to Merriam as if Mrs. Winchester were bewitched, so perfectly does she move to the tempo of my rhythm. She cannot participate in this conversation either, because one of the means I have also used to outrage her is that I allow myself to treat her just like a child. It is not as if I for that reason would allow myself any liberties whatever with her, far from it. I well know the upsetting effects such things can have, and the point is that her womanliness must be able to rise up pure and beautiful again. Because of my intimate relationship with Mrs. Winchester, it is easy for me to treat her like a child who has no understanding of the World. #RandolphHarris 5 of 14
Her womanliness is not insulted thereby but merely neutralized, for the fact that she does not know market prices cannot insult her womanliness, but the supposition that this is the ultimate in life can certainly be revolting to her. With my powerful assistance on this scored, Mrs. Winchester is out doing herself. She has become almost fanatic—something she can thank me for. The only thing about me that she cannot stand is that I have no position. Now I have adopted the habit of saying whenever a vacancy in some office is mentioned: “There is a position for me,” and thereupon discuss it very gravely with her. Merriam always perceives the irony, which is precisely what I want. The butler came in with more tea. I saw that he was lame. In the moment I remembered him. He was the man I met in the fog. “I met you yesterday afternoon, Mr. Brunton,” I said, as we went into the library. “Yesterday afternoon, sir?” He repeated. “You did not seem to observe me,” I said, carelessly. “I spoke to you, in fact; but you did not reply to me.” “But—indeed, I beg your parson, sir—it must have been someone else,” said the butler. “I did not go out yesterday afternoon.” How could this be anything but a falsehood? I might have been mistaken as to the man’s face; though it was such a singular face, and I had seen it quite plainly. However, how could I be mistaken as to his lameness? Besides, that curious trailing of the right foot, as if the ankle was broken, was not an ordinary lameness. I suppose I looked incredulous, for he added, hastily. “Even if I had not been preparing dinner for inspection, sire, I should not have gone out yesterday afternoon. It was too damp and foggy. I am obliged to be careful—I have a very delicate chest.” #RandolphHarris 6 of 14
My dislike to the man increased with every word he uttered. I did not ask myself with what motive he want on heaping lie upon lie; it was enough that, to serve his own ends, whatever those ends might be, he did lie with unparalleled audacity. “We will proceed to the examination, Mr. Brunton,” I said, contemptuously. He turned, if possible, a shade paler than before, bent his head silently, and called up the cuisine in their order. Profusely apologizing, he begged leave to occupy five minutes of my valuable time. He wished, under correction, to suggest a little improvement to many the menu more festive. “Under other circumstances…” I stopped and looked round. The butler repeated my last words. “You were saying, sir—under other circumstances?” I looked around again. “I seemed to me that there was someone here,” I said; “some third person, not a moment ago.” “I beg your pardon, sir—a third person?” “I saw his shadow on the ground, between yours and mine.” The mansion faced due north, and we were standing immediately behind it, with our backs to the sun. The place was bare, and open, and high; and our shadows, sharply defined, lay stretched before our feet. “A—a shadow?” he faltered. “Impossible.” There was not a bush or a true within half a mile. There was not a could in the sky. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, that could have cast a shadow. I admitted that t was impossible, and that I must have fancied it; and so went back to the matter of the menu. “Should you see Mrs. Winchester,” I said, “you are at liberty to say that I thought it a desirable improvement.” #RandolphHarris 7 of 14
“I am much obliged to you, sir. Thank you—thank you very much,” he said, cringing at every word. “But—but I had hoped that you might perhaps use your influence”—“Look there!” I interrupted. “Is that fancy?” We were now close under the blank walls of the kitchen. On this wall, laying to the full sunlight, our shadows—mine and the butler’s—were projected. And there too—no longer between his and mine, but a little way apart, as if the intruder were standing back—there, as sharply defined as if cast by line-light on a prepared background, I again distinctly saw, though but for a moment, that third shadow. As I spoke, as I looked round, it was gone! “Did you not see it?” I asked. He shook his head. “I—I saw nothing” he said, faintly. “What was it?” His lips were white. He seemed scarcely able to stand. “But you must have seen it!” I exclaimed. “It fell just there—where that bit of ivy grows. There must be some boy hiding—it was a boy’s shadow, I am confident. “A boy’s shadow!” he echoed, looking round in a wild, frightened way. “There is no place—for a boy—to hide.” “Place or no place,” I said, angrily, “if I catch him, he shall feel the weight of my cane!” I searched backwards and forwards in every direction, the butler, with his scared face, limping at my heels; but, rough and irregular as the ground was, there was not a hole in it big enough to shelter a rabbit. “But what was it?” I said, impatiently. “An—an illusion. Begging your pardon, sir—and illusion.” He looked so like a beaten hound, so frightened, so fawning, that I felt I could with lively satisfaction have transferred the threatened caning to his own shoulders. #RandolphHarris 8 of 14
“But you saw it?” I said, impatiently. “No, sir. Upon my honour, no, sir. I saw nothing—nothing whatever.” His looks belied his words. I felt certain that he had not only seen the shadow, but that he knew more about it than he chose to tell. I was by this time really angry. To be made the object of a boyish trick, and to be hoodwinked by the connivance of the butler, was too much. It was an insult to myself and my office. I scarcely knew what I said; something short and stern at all events. Then, having said it, I turned my back upon Mr. Brunton and the mansion, and walked rapidly back to the village. As I was leaving the Winchester, it was a gloomy evening. I was standing high in the midst of a somber deer-park some six or seven miles in circumference. An avenue of palm trees, which led up to the house looked so lonely. The butler said, “If you would but be persuaded to say a day longer, a new experience awaits you. I will take you down the Winchester shaft, and show you the home of the gnomes and trolls. I am the king of Hades, and rule the under World as well as the upper. There is gold everywhere underlying this mansion. The whole place is honeycombed with shafts and galleries. One of our richest seams runs under this house, and there are upwards of forty men at work in it a quarter of a mile below our feet here every day. Another leads right away under the park, Heaven only knows how far! My father began working it five-and-twenty years ago, and we have gone on working it ever since; yet it shows no sign of failing. That is why Mrs. Winchester is rich enough to commit whatever design follies she pleases; and that is saying a good deal. #RandolphHarris 9 of 14
“But then, to be always squandering money—always building a rambling mansion—always gratifying the impulse of the moment—is that happiness? Mrs. Winchester has been experimenting for several decades; and with what result? Would you like to see?” He snatched up a lamp and led the way through a long suite of unfinished rooms, the floors of which were piled high with packing cases of all sizes and shapes, labelled with the names of various foreign ports and the addresses of foreign agents innumerable. What did they contain? Precious marbles from Italy and Greece and Asia Minor; priceless paintings by old and modern masters; antiquities from the Nile, the Tigris, and the Euphrates; enamels from Persia, porcelain from China, bronzes from Japan, strange sculptures from Peru; arms, mosaics, ivories, wood-carvings, skins, tapestries, old Italian cabinets, painted bride-chess, Etruscan terracottas; treasures of all countries, or all ages, never even unpacked since they crossed that threshold which the mistress’s foot had crossed but twice during the ten years it had taken to buy them! Should she ever open them, ever arrange them, every enjoy them? Perhaps—if she becomes weary of wandering—if she remarried—if she built a gallery to receive them. If not—well, she might found and endow a museum; or leave the things to the nation. What did it matter? Collecting was like fox-hunting; the pleasure in the pursuit, and ended with it!” Breakfast over, we went around the mansion, and saw the men working. Just as we were about to enter an underground tunnel—a tall, slender lad, with a fishing rod across his shoulder, came out rom one of the side doors of the mansion, crossed the open at field, and disappeared among the tree-trunks on the opposite side. I recognized him instantly. It was the boy whom I saw the other day, just after meeting the butler in the meadow. #RandolphHarris 10 of 14
“If the boy think he is going fishing in a fruit orchard,” I said, “he will find out his mistake.” “What boy,” asked Mr. Brunton, looking back. “That boy who crossed over yonder, a minute ago.” “Yonder!—in front of us?” “Certainly. You must have seen him?” “No I.” “You did no see him?—a tall, thin boy, in a grey suit, with a fishing-rod over his shoulder. He disappeared behind those nectarine trees.” Mr. Brunton looked at me with surprise. “You are dreaming!” he said. “No living thing—not even a rabbit—has crossed our path since we left the mansion.” “I am not in the habit of dreaming with my eyes open,” I replied, quickly. He laughed, and put his arm through mine. “Eyes or no eyes,” he said, “you are under an illusion this time!” An illusion—the very word made use of by the butler! What did it mean? Could I, in truth, no longer rely upon the testimony of my senses? A thousand half-formed apprehensions flashed across me in a moment, I remembered the illusions of Nicolini, the bookseller, and other similar cases of visual hallucination, and I asked myself if I has suddenly become afflicted in like manner. “By jove! This is a queer sight!” exclaimed Mr. Brunton. And then I found that we had emerged from the fruit orchard, and were looking down upon the bed of what yesterday was a lake. It was indeed a queer sight—an oblong, irregular basin of the blackest slime, with here and there a sullen pool, and round the margin an irregular fringe of bulrushes. At some little distance along the bank—less than quarter of a mile from where we were standing—a gaping crowd had gathered. All the foremen seemed to turn out to stare. #RandolphHarris 11 of 14
Hats were pulled off and curtsies dropped at Mr. Brunton’s approach. He, meanwhile, came up smiling, with a pleasant word for everyone. “Well,” he said, “are you looking for the lake, my friends?” “I see a log of rotten timber sticking half in and half out of the mud,” one of the men said, “and something—a long reed, apparently…by Jove! I believe it is a fishing rod!” “It is a fishin’ rod, squire,” said the blacksmith with rough earnestness; “an” if yon rotten timber bayn’t an unburied corpse, mun I never stroike hammer on anvil agin!” There was a buzz of acquiescence from the bystanders. ‘Twas an unburied corpse, such enough. Nobody doubted it. “It must have come out, whatever it is, Mr. Brunton said presently. “Five feet of mud, do you say? Then here is a sovereign apiece for the first two fellows who wade through it and bring that object to land!” It was, in truth, an unburied corpse; part of the trunk only above the surface. They tried to life it; but it had been so long under water, and was in so advanced a stage of decomposition, that to bring it to shore without a shutter was impossible. Being cross-questioned, they thought, from the slenderness of the form, that it must be the body of a boy. “There’s the poor chap’s rod, anyhow,” said the blacksmith, laying it gently down upon the turf. Mrs. Winchester was summoned and told of the news. That night she rushed to her blue séance room and demanded the spirits tell her what happened to the boy. “I invoke thee, and move thee, and stir thee up O Spirit Leraikha,” said Mrs. Winchester. “From the 30 Legions of Spirits, appear unto my eyes before the circle in the likeness of a man in and tell me what has happened to this boy!” #RandolphHarris 12 of 14
“The words Adam spoke to God, and all things of water were as blood,” replied the Spirit Leraikha. “In the names Alpha and Omega, I am the God of Secret Truth who liveth forever, the All-Powerful. It is to I, to whom all creatures are obedient and in the Extreme Justice and Anger of God that I withdrawal this veil that is before the glory of God, might; and by the creatures of living breath before the Thone whose eyes are east and west; by the fire in the fire of just Glory of Mine Throne; by the Holy ones of Heaven; and by the secret wisdom of God, I, exalted in power, has been stirred up to cast a vision of the past and make clear the present! The secrets of truth in voice and understanding comes: This is the corpse of a boy of perhaps ten and four or ten and five years of age. There was a fracture three inches long at the back of the skull, evidently fatal. This might, of course, have been an accidental injury; but when the body came to be raised from where it layeth, it was found to be pinned down by a pitchfork, the handle of which had been afterwards whittled off, so as not to show above water, a discovery tantamount to evidence of murder. The features of the victim were decomposed beyond recognition; but enough of the hair remained to show that it has been short and sandy. He had a passion for fishing and was in the habit of slipping away at school-hours, and showed himself the more cunning and obstinate more he was punished. At last there came a day when the butler tracked him to the place his rod was concealed and beat the miserable lad about the head and arms with a heavy stick. Pin through hand and blood was running out of his mouth until he fell insensible and ceased to breathe. He dragged the body among the bulrushes by the water’s edge, and there concealed it as well as he could. #RandolphHarris 13 of 14
“At night, when the neighbours and staff were in bed asleep, he stole out by starlight, taking with him a pitchfork, a coil of rope, a couple of iron-bars, and a knife. He weighted and sunk the corpse, and pinned it down by the neck with his pitchfork. He then cut away the handle of the fork; hid the fishing-rod among the reeds; and believed, as murderers always believe, that discovery was impossible. His dreadful secret had of late become intolerable. He was haunted by an invisible Presence. That Presence sat with him at table, followed him in his walks stood behind him in the mansion, and watched by his side. He never saw it; but he felt that it was always there. Sometimes he raves of a shadow on the walls of this mansion. I have now told you all that there is at present to tell.” When a community looks only for evidence of guilt and ignores or suppresses all contradictory evidence, the result is a witch hunt. Witch hunts are often used to conceal more heinous crimes. And when a witch hunt occurs, which is the very opposite of what was going on in the case of the murdered boy, the community feels itself so beset by evil that it is no longer capable of perceiving the good. The primary causes of witch hunts are clear. It is usually due to corruption, an outbreak of epidemic hysteria which usually ordinates in experiments with the occult. And the hysterical hallucinations of the afflicted persons are confirmed by some concrete evidence of actual witchcraft and by many confessions, the majority of them hysterical. A number of other explanations have been offered, but most of them are more or less unconvincing. It has been argued that the outbreak is usually due to some new religion. Typically a kind of insanity resulting from sexual repression or denying one’s true sexual nature. #RandolphHarris 14 of 14
Winchester Mystery House
It’s a beautiful day for a stroll through the gardens. Today, Winchester Mystery House marks 99 years since our lady of mystery, Sarah Winchester passed away peacefully in her bedroom of Llanda Villa. We mark her passing with the ringing of the bell 13 times as is our tradition. Thank you Sarah for creating this iconic home that we continue to share with guests from around the world.
🎟️ Link in bio.
A 160-room mansion built to appease the spirits who died at the hands of the Winchester Rifle 👻
🗝 winchestermysteryhouse.com
In a Nightmare of Supernatural Terror–Afraid to Move Hand or Foot!
The warning came too late to change that course of event. There has been time when many admitted some doubt of the validity of spectral evidence. This story I will tell to you now, as I have promised to do so, and yet I can hardly make you believe in the reluctance with which I even allow my thoughts go back to the times which I spent in my house—my first town residence after I was married. I loved so much my lovely mansion, I suppose. The wide emerald green lawns and quiet, glassy ponds and streams, bordered by luscious, blooming rhododendrons; of silent, mossy avenues, glorious with the flickering light that stole through pale green beech leaves; of rose gardens with grassy paths, jewel-sprinkled with shell-like petals of white, crimson, pink, and cream-like hues; of old-fashioned rooms with narrow, mullioned windows embowered in scarlet japonica and fragrant, starry jessamine. I supposed I possessed a deep love of them all. This was the first house we were sown in the Santa Clara, California. It was certainly a very fine house, both as o exterior and interior appearances. Large, massively built, agreeably darkened in woodwork and masonry by Time’s shading brush, in excellent repair, and the locality all that could be desire. Wide, lofty apartments, staircases, and landings; a handsome dining-room panelled in velvety dark-green “flock” and gold; a handsome drawing-room panelled in pale cream-colour and gold; airy bed-chambers and dressing-rooms—one, in particular, attached to what seemed the principal bedroom, with a vast mirror occupying the whole side of the apartment which was opposite to the door leading into the bed-chamber. #RandolphHarris 1 of 16
“What a nice dressing-room! This house is perfect and expansion will be a joy.” I exclaimed, having a weakness, I confess, for large, handsome mirrors in the rooms I inhabit—William says impertinent things about my “wishing to see as much of myself as I can.” I know I am not all, in fact, rather what he should call petite, if he wished to be polite—but that is not my reason for liking a large mirror. As I spoke the words I looked about mechanically for the house—agent’s clerk who had been sent with us—a nervous-looking little man, with a pasty complexion, and orange-colored hair meekly plastered down at each side of his face. He had been untiringly trotting up and down stairs, unlocking doors, answering questions, and keeping up a harmless soliloquy of chatter about the beauties and excellencies of the “mansiond,” as he called it, ever since he entered its doors, but now he was nowhere to be seen. “What door have you open?” I said, speaking aloud to him, for suddenly a cold blast of air swept up the wide staircase and into the dressing-room door, but not entering. His face looked wither than before, and in his accents there was an almost terrified earnestness that puzzled me. The shadows of the afternoon seemed to deepen. The aspect of the suites of rooms and long silent corridors, with their doors ajar, as if unseen inhabitants were stealthily crouching behind them, drearily impressed me with a sense of dull desolation; and it was with a sudden sensation of childish fear and loneliness that I rushed after my husband, and took his arm as he hastily descended the stairs. #RandolphHarris 2 of 16
“A spacious, handsome staircase, William” I remarked. “Yes; and a spacious, handsome price, you may be sure,” William responded. However, in this particular, he was exceedingly, and I agreeably, astonished. To our surprise, the house was rather affordable. William figured there must be a screw loose somewhere. He mentioned his opinion to the clerk in a more business-like expression, to the effect that the price seemed low, and that he trusted there was no—peculiar—eh? “Drains, gas, water, all right, sir—right as—a—a trivet, sir. However, the 18-room farmhouse is incomplete,” sad the clerk, looking over his shoulder oddly, as he spoke. “But chimneys, ventilators, roof, tiles—everything in the perfect repair and order, sir!” However, wonderful or not, the house seemed all that we could desire; the lowness of the price made it a decided bargain. I planned to expand the house, and make it even more lofty, and handsome; and in three weeks, huge furniture vanes, and a clever upholstered, had carpeted, curtained, and furnished our town mansion from garret to basement, and William and I, our two babies, a nurse, two maids, a cook, and a butler, were installed in what would become the Winchester Mansion. Dear William had been very generous—nay, almost extravagant—in his provisions for the comfort and pleasure of his wife and children; and my dressing-room and their nursery were fitted up so luxuriously and tastefully, that my feeling at the first inspection of them was that of self-gratulation on being such a fortunate woman, in having such a home, such babies, and such a husband. #RandolphHarris 3 of 16
I arrayed myself for dinner that evening quite gleefully; standing before my splendid mirror amid the bule drapery, cushions, and couches of my charming dressing-room. I put on William’s favourite dress—a bronze-brown lustrous silk, with sparkling gold ornaments: he invariably kissed me when he saw it on, stroked my brown curls and face, and called me “Mrs. Winchester”—and was still standing before the glass smiling at myself, like the happy, foolish little woman I was, when I perceived to my discomfiture that William was standing in the doorway watching my doings, and grinning very visibly under his moustache. “Do not mind me, my dear, I beg! do not me the least. However, when you have done admiring Mrs. Winchester, perhaps you will be kind enough to let me know”—then, suddenly changing his tone, he exclaimed, “Have you the window open, Sarah, this chilly evening?” “No William,” I replied, glancing at it to make sure of the fact. “Change in the weather, then,” my husband said. “Come, Sarah, there is no use in making yourself any prettier!” He had just uttered the last words when I saw him spring aside suddenly, and look around. “What is the matter?” I said—“William, dear, what is the matter?” For his face had grown quite white, and with his back against the wall, he was staring about him wildly. “I do not know—Sarah—something”—he explained in a low tone; then recovering himself, with a laugh, he cried—“I struck myself against the door, I suppose! I declare one would think I was composed of old china, or wax, or sugar candy, I hurt and stunned me so! Come, dearest.” #RandolphHarris 4 of 16
He had not struck himself, for I had been watching him going out on the lobby, and I felt an uneasy conviction that he knew he had not done so, and only spoke as he did in order to deceive or satisfy me. why? Why did I think so? As I live I cannot tell why I thought so then—I know now. We had the “babies”—as William always called them—in the dessert, after the time-honoured fashion of making olives as well as olive branches of them; and then, when the lite ones had gone to bed, we sat side by side in he summer twilight, I lazily fanning myself, William bending over me the lover-husband he was. Then came the lamps, and I played for him, and we sang duet and spent as happy an evening in our new home as a married pair could wish to spend. I cannot tell why I felt so disinclined to go upstairs that night, tired as I was, too—for we had had a long journey up from the country. However as eleven struck, I routed William out of the easy chair where he had been indulging in a preliminary doze, and, ringing for my maid went up to my dressing-room. I like gas in my dressing-room, though not in my bedroom, and the globes at either side the great mirror were a blaze of light. As I entered I caught the reflection of a woman’s figure in the depths of the glass, no my maid’s. The glimpse I had was of a tall woman, strongly built, and broad-shouldered, a quantity of light hair hanging in a disordered manner on her neck, and the profile of a white, hard, masculine face, with the keen glittering eye turned watchfully towards the door. #RandolphHarris 5 of 16
This may seem an elaborately detailed description for the momentary glance I obtained, but it is well known with what lightning rapidity the organs of vision will, in moments of terror and amazement, convey impressions to the startled brain, impression accurate and indelible. I had taken but one step on entering, the next step the figure had vanished, and the mirror reflected by my own terrified face, and the homely, cheerful one of my maid Agnus, as she stooped over the dressing-table opening a jewel case. I dropped down on the nearest chair, and, in answer to the girl’s alarmed questions, replied that I did not feel very well. I was sick and shuddering from head to foot. Suddenly it flashed across me that it was from a similar cause I had seen my husband’s face grow ghastly, and that strange, terrified look come into his eyes,–he, who had been a soldier and unflinchingly had fought amidst the dead and dying on bloody Indian battlefields, almost boy as he was then! What was it? What had he seen? Nonsense! was I going to believe I had seen a ghost? Nonsense, a thousand times over! I heard my husband’s cheery voice as he ascended the stairs, and, quite angry with myself for giving way to such folly, I threw on my dressing gown, and, snatching up the brush from Agnus, I pulled my hair down and brushed it quite savagely, until my head ached well—for punishment. If the bright morning light disperses sweet illusions formed overnight, as people say it does, it disperses gloomy ones as well. With the warmth and brightness of the unclouded summer’s sun streaming in through softly coloured blinds, brining out the velvety green of soft new carpets and lounges, the rainbow tints of glittering chandeliers, vases, and ornaments, the gilding on bright fresh wallpaper and the spotless folds of snowy window drapery, it was impossible for an instant to connect anything dark or dismal with the Winchester House. #RandolphHarris 6 of 16
Why, my dressing-room even where I had been so silly last evening, was like a woodland bower, with its deep purple-blue hangings and rose painted china flower-vases filled with bouquets from our country home. Clustering fragrant honeysuckle half-opened moss roses, drooping emerald-green fern, and masses of delicious jessamine dropping its over-blown blossoms on the white toilet cover, lace-flounced and tied with blue ribbons, as Agnus delighted to have it. “I think this such a charming room and such a charming house altogether, William!” I said; “and you have been such a dear, thoughtful old darling!” For I had perceived that the dear fellow had had his own half-length portrait hung over my writing-table. Quite a pleasant surprise for me, for I thought he intended it to be hung in the dining-room, and I delighted in having the dear pleasant brown eyes looking for a me when I was busy writing or sewing. “I am so glad you like everything, Sarah,” said he. “Why, William, do you not?” However, William had walked off whistling, and presently I heard uproarious baby-laughter, and baby-chatter, and thumping, trotting of small fat feet, as William put the tiny nursery into dire confusion by his morning game of romps with his son and heir, and red-cheeked baby-daughter. And it did seem as if I must have been dreaming or delirious, when this day and many a succeeding one passed away swiftly and pleasantly, without the slightest recurring event to remind me of my strange alarm on the night of our arrival. #RandolphHarris 7 of 16
We had been in the Winchester House about a fortnight, when one morning I received a visit from Mrs. Ellen Kenna. A very pretty, lady-like person she was, and as we had some common acquaintances we chattered away very freely and pleasantly for half-an-hour or so. As she rose to go she asked suddenly if we like the house. I replied in the affirmative rather warmly. She was opposite the light, and I saw an involuntary elevation of her eye-brows and compression of her lips that puzzled me. I fancied it was because I had spoken so enthusiastically. Yet her own manner was anything but languidly fashionable, being very cordial and decided. “Yes; it is a very nice house, roomy and well-built,” she said, after a moment’s pause; “I am so glad you like it—I live down the road in Oakland.” We took the carriage to have dinner at Bertha Hass’s mansion that for the following evening, and when we returned about three days later, in spite of a yawning remonstrate from William, I tipped off softly to have a peep at my darlings, before I went to bed. The nursey was a large, pleasant room at the end of the long corridor leading from our own apartments, and, gently turning the handle and gathering my rustling silk dress around me, I opened the door and went in. There was a night-lamp burning clearly, shining softly on the tiny cribs with the sweet flushed infant faces, the long golden-brown lashes lying in dimpled apple-bloom cheeks, the waxen hands and little rounded arms thrown above the tossed golden curls, and the Heavenly calm of the little sleeping forms and pure, peaceful breathing. #RandolphHarris 8 of 16
I wondered would any mother, no matter how cold and careless, have neglected doing what I did, as I bent over my treasures, and prayed God that His angels might keep watch over each cherub head on its little, soft, white pillow? I had looed at and kissed them, and turned to go, when I glanced toward the nurse’s bed. “Are you not well, Linda? What is the matter?” I said in an anxious whisper. She was a very respectable and trustworthy servant, as well as being, a kind, gentle creature with the little ones, and consequently highly valued by me, but her health was never very good, and she was subject to severe attacks of nervous headache and sleeplessness. She was sitting up in bed, her hands grasping the bedclothes, her face and lips ashy white, and her as big as saucers and staring wildly, as if they would start from their sockets. “Linda! Good Heavens! what is the matter?” I gasped. “Ma’am! Oh, ma’am—oh, mistress, I am dying!” We summoned a doctor and administered restoratives, and chafed the half-senseless girl’s damp, cold hands. I could imagine no cause for her sudden illness, and the others servants were very voluble in exclamations and laments. However, when the physician—a pale, kindly, grave-looking man arrived—after a moment’s examination, he demanded if she had been frightened? I replied in the negative, and was proceeding to describe to him the state in which I had found her, when I heard the housemaid and Agnus whispering energetically together. #RandolphHarris 9 of 16
The doctor was paying tribute to the dramatic affliction of the girl, when he said, “This strikes hard upon me, that you are at this very present charged with unfamiliar spirits. This is your bodily person they speak to. They say now they see these unfamiliar sprits some to your bodily person. Now what do you say to that?” Agnus said that she saw a specter leaving Linda’s body, as she was going into hideous convulsions. The fit was far too violent to be acting. This was terribly “real” and convincing. “What is it? Speak out at once my god girl!” said the doctor sternly to the housemaid; “you know something of this.” Both servants looked apprehensively at me and at William. “Speak up at once, Bethany; the girl’s life may depend on it! Tell the truth, my girl, and do not be afraid,” said her master kindly, but firmly. “I do not know nothing, sir—indeed, no ma’am, said Angus confusedly; “but—I think, ma’am—she seen the ghost, sir!” “That what!” cried William angrily. “She have, sir!” persisted Agnus eagerly, now that her confession was made. “We are all afraid, sir; but she has been worser nor the rest of us. And she says to me only this morning, ‘Agnus,’ she says, ‘if I see it, I will die!’” “What ghost, you fool?” cried William more angrily. “A pretty set you are!—great, grown men and women, afraid of some bogie story you have heard when you were gossiping with the servants on the balcony, I suppose!” “No, indeed, sir,” said Agnus; “I was not gossippin’, sir; but the parlour-maid over the way, sir Mrs. Kenna’s parlour-maid, ma’am—she told me that there was the Devil–” #RandolphHarris 10 of 16
“I thought so!” interrupted William. “You ought to be ashamed of yourselves not to have an ounce of brains among you.” “But, sir! Agnus burst out again, unheeding her master’s rather uncomplimentary phrenological verdict, “we did not mind, sir, though we was a bit frightened, until we see it, sir! The butler see it, and he ran, and cook ran.” “And you ran after them?” said William, with an indignant laugh. “I did, sir, for I saw it too—a big woman with fair hair all over her shoulders,” said Agnus, in an awestruck whisper to Harriet, who nodded her head. The doctor looked up, gravely and without a smile. The servants clustered together near the door, and muttered in undertones. William looked at me with a forced smile, which died away in an instant: “You are not so foolish as to credit any of this nonsense, Sarah?” he said. The servants all turned eagerly to hear their mistress’s opinion. I am afraid it was written in my pallid face. Was it true? Was it what I had seen? Could there be any reality in this, that here, in our pleasant, happy home, beneath the roof with out helpless little one, was a dreadful, unblessed presence—a shadowy horror; that that thing with the watchful, cruel eyes had not been a mere vision of imagination, the mere offspring of an active brain, and the unstrung nerves of an overtired frame? Is there conclusive proof that the person represented had been trafficking with the Devil? “Oh! they imagined something from the stories they heard, I dare say,” I faltered. #RandolphHarris 11 of 16
The butler shook his head solemnly: “I could swear to it, ma’am.” “And so could I ma’am!” chorused the cook and housemaid. “Hush!” said the doctor, as the nurse, roused, at length, from her stupor, lay quietly, with closed eyes, from which the tears streamed down her face. “Some one must sit up with her now,” said the doctor, looking around. “I will, sir, if my mistress allows me, said Bethany. Certainly, Bethany,” she said at once. He communicated his instructions to her and took his leave, promising to call in the morning. “Did you ever hear anything like this folly, doctor,” said William, as he shook hands with him at the head of the stairs. “Oh! yes, sir, I often hear such stories,” said the doctor quietly, as he bade us both goodnight.” William! what has frightened the girl? What has she seen?” I whispered, clasping my husband’s arm. “Sarah, go to bed, and do not be a goose,” was William’s reply. “William—I saw that thing—that woman, in my dressing-room,” I said, trembling, “and oh! think if the children were to see I and be frightened like poor Mary!” “Well, Sarah,” said my husband sharply, “if you are going to listen to ignorant servants’ superstitions and run out of your house, just as we are comfortably settled in it, on account of a foolish sickly woman fainting from hearing a ghost story—I say—it is a pity you ever came into it.” He spoke very decidedly and sternly, and yet I felt in my inmost heart that the uttered what he wished me to believe, not what he believed himself. I said no more, but went to my bedroom—not into the dreaded dressing-room—and lay awake listening and fevered with nervous anxiety until the next morning dawned. #RandolphHarris 12 of 16
The nurse was better and able to speak the next day, though extremely weak and unnerved yet. The doctor forbade much questioning, and all that could be got from her at intervals was that something had come up the staircase and ran through the corridor, that she heard struggling and scuffling outside, and then the nursey door opened and she saw a woman’s face peering in, the eyes gleaming wickedly at her, and it had the yellow hair that “belong to the ghost.” “The woman has had a bad fit of nightmare—that is all, Sarah,” said William, rattling his paper unconcernedly, when I repeated to him the story I had just heard from poor Linda’s trembling lips. It might be so; but why were they all agreed as to what they had seen? Why did they all speak of the tangled fair hair, and the wicked gleaming eyes? Was our house haunted? Was this the mysterious cause of the exceedingly moderate price of the house and land and the house-agent’s profuse civility? The nurse did not recover strength, and being worse than useless in her present weak, hysterical condition, I sent her down to her country home for change of air, and hired another temporarily in her place. The newcomer was a stout, small, cheerful woman of about forty. I liked her face the moment I saw her; for, besides its smiling, honest expression, there was a good deal of decided character in the large firm features. “You appear to be a sensible person,” I said, when giving her her first instructions in the nursey, “and I think I can rely on you. You know my nurse is leaving because of illness, and that illness was caused by her being frightened by—a ghost-story.” I paused; but the woman remained unmoved, listening to me in respectful silence. #RandolphHarris 13 of 16
“The servants downstairs have got some nonsense of the kind into their head,” I went on; “they will try to frighten you, too, and tell you they have seen—-” I could not go on. For my life I could not calmly giver her the description of that shadowy image of fear. “They cannot frighten me, ma’am, said my new nurse quietly. “I am not afraid of spirits.” I thought she spoke in jest, and smiled. “I am not indeed, ma’am,” she repeated. “I have lived where there were such things seen but they never harmed me.” “You do not mean to say you believe such nonsense?” said I, hypocritically trying to speak carelessly. “Oh yes, ma’am, I do! I could not disbelieve it,” said the nurse, opening her eyes with earnestness, “I know the story of this house, ma’am.” What story” I cried. The woman coloured and looked confused. “I beg your pardon, ma’am—I mean what people say is seen here.” “What do they say? Do not frighten me,” I said, and my voice quivered in spite of me; “I have heard nothing but what the servant said.” The nurse looked deeply concerned. “I am very stupid, ma’am; I beg your pardon for repeating such stores to you—I daresay it is only idle people’s gossip.” She went about her duties, and I went—not into my dressing-room—but down into the drawing-room, where I say by the window looking out until my husband returned. Two or three weeks more passed away. I lay down on my pet chintz-covered couch, near the window, to look at the sky and the starts. Dead silence—and the “ting, ting” of the French clock on the mantelpiece marked the half-hour after eight. #RandolphHarris 14 of 16
Dear me, how dark it was growing! this brooding storm I supposed, which had been making me feel so languid and restless. I wish it would come down and cool the air—not tonight, though. Dear me, how lonely it is. I wish William were home. Those women are talking very loudly—I wonder nurse would—here I got drowsy, and my eyes ached looking for the stars that had not come. In a few minutes I roused again, my maternal anxiety changing into indignation as I heard the women’s voices growing louder and shriller, and some doors opened and shut violently. What can nurse be thinking of? They will wake the children most certainly, and William was so long in falling asleep—quite fevers my own boy! I shall really reprover her very plainly. I never needed to do so before. What could she be thinking of? Dead silence again. Well, this was lonely; I was inclined to ring for lights, and turn on all the burners in the chandeliers by way of company. Then I remembered there were some wax matches in one of the drawers of a writing-tray just at hand, and thought I would light the gas myself instead of brining the servants down—yes—but I wanted company. It was so dark and dreary, and—and—I was afraid. Afraid to stir—afraid to look at the door! a numbing, chilling tide of icy fear ebbing through every vein—afraid to draw a breath—afraid to move hand or foot, in a nightmare of supernatural terror. At last, by a violent effort, I sprang at the bell-handle, and pulled it frantically, and as soon as I had done so, with a sudden revulsion of feeling, I felt thoroughly ashamed of my childish cowardice, although I could not have helped it, and it had overcome me as suddenly as unexpectedly. How William would have laughed at me! #RandolphHarris 15 of 16
There were those servants talking again, tramping about and banging the doors as before. Really, this was unbearable; cook must be in one of her fits of temper, and certainly had forgotten herself strangely. And, as the quarrelsome tones grew louder and louder—evidently in bitter recrimination, although I could not catch a word—my own anger rose proportionately, and, forgetting loneliness and darkness in my indignant anxiety lest my children should be waked by this most unseemly behaviour of the servants, I ran hastily out of the room and up the wide staircase. The dime light from the clouded evening sky, still further subdued by the gold and purple-stained glass of the conservatory door, streamed faintly down the steps from the first landing, and by it, just as I had ascended half way, I discovered the short, thick-sett figure of the nurse rushing down—of course, in answer to my ring, I supposed. Involuntarily I stepped aside to avoid coming in violent contact with her as she feld past. No, it was not the nurse; and the woman following her in headlong haste, sweeping by me so that the current of air from their floating dresses struck icily cold on my brow where the clammy dew of perspiration had started in great drops, was—was—-Merciful Heavens! What was that tall figure, with the coarse, disordered, yellow hair, the white face, and glittering, steel-blue eyes, that glinted fiendishly on me for one dreadful instant, and then vanished? Vanished as the pursed and pursuing figures had disappeared in the shadows of the wide, lofty hall, without sound of voice or footstep? #RandolphHarris 16 of 16
Winchester Mystery House
If you had a chance to explore areas never before seen within Sarah’s house, would you take it?
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A 160-room mansion built to appease the spirits who died at the hands of the Winchester Rifle 👻
Some People Feel they May Be Flying Apart–We Do Not Forgive Because it Benefits Us!
My turn at last, my Loquacious if Lofty Friend. “How multitudinous are Your sweetness, O Lord, which You have hoarded for those who fear you!” That was the shout of the Psalmist (31.19), and it is my shout too. However, what are You to those who love? And to those who serve You with their whole heart? You are the sweetness of contemplation—who can describe it?—that You bestow generously on those who love You. To this point, in the most generous way possible, You have shown me the sweetness of Your charity. How do I know? You have made me into something better than I was, what I am not, and when I have strayed far afield, You found me and led me back. Hence it is that I serve You now. What is more? You have laid down the one condition, that I should love You. No big deal! I do that already. Although not very well, as You are so fond of pointing out. O Fountain of Perpetual Love! What may I say about You? How can I forget You after You kept me on Your list of friends, even after I pined away and died the spiritual death. Your response to Your servant at that unhappy time was extravagant, an act of friendship, making my every hope a mercy, and my every merit a grace. “What can I give You in return for that grace?” I ask with the Psalmist (116.12). Not everyone has received it. Not everyone has been called to leave everything behind, renounce the World, enter the monastic life. At this point—and, before You say it, O Lord, I do have a point—may I ask a stupid question? What is so great about serving You? We are already under all obligation to serve You; yes, the whole of Humankind. So pardon me if I do not think it is such a great new idea. #RandolphHarris 1 of 18
What is really great, though—and this is an argument You seemed to have missed—is that You picked a pauper and a pooper like me for You monastery and put me in the company of Your beloved self-actualized. Now that is astounding! That is astonishing! Look at all this Earthly clutter of mine! It is Yours too, as the First Book of Chronicles has it (29.14), at least according to the terms of our present agreement, and I use bits and bobs of it to serve You. However, that is the wrong end to approach it from. You serve me more than I serve You. Just take a look at Heaven and Earth. You created them for the use of Humankind. They are right here in front of our eyes, and every day they do just what You have ordered them to do. And this is just the beginning. “You have ordered the Angels to minister to Humankind,” as the Psalmist has it (91.11). Transcending all of this transcendence is Your deigning to serve Humanity and promising to give Yourself to us. All those thousands of gifts You have given me, what can I give in return? I know. I will serve You all the days of my life! Better, I will serve You just one day of my life, but I will make it a day of perfect service! Ah, my Lord and Gracious Friend, “You are worth the perfect service, and all the honour and eternal praise that go with it,” as the twenty-four elders in Revelations sang to the Spirit on the throne (4.11). As for me, poor servant that I am, I have vowed to serve You with every fiber of my being, to praise You without ever stinting. That is my wish. That is my desire. And you know what I like best? Whenever I come undone, You kindly see to my mending. #RandolphHarris 2 of 18
Great honor? To serve You! Great glory? To condemn everything else because of You. Like me, those who on the spur of the moment enlisted in Your Most Holy Service have a great grace. That is to say, we who ditched every carnal delight now discover the most delightful consolation of the Holy Spirit. We who ignored the World’s broad highways and followed Your pointy sign down the narrow dirt road, as Matthew quoted You (7.14), are having a fairly pleasant journey. How sweet is the service of the Lord! Yes, my Lordly if sometimes Leery Friend, we like to think the monastery a great and happy place, and we hope You think the same. And yes, religious service has a lot to recommend it. As You say, it does indeed promote Freedom and Holiness. And it does render Humankind equal to Angels, satisfactory to God, unwelcome to Demons, and commendable to all faithful! It is a life one can learn to love and embrace for a lifetime. A service promising the Summum Bonum. With the Gaudium Perenne to boot! In the Church, we are frequently reminded about the importance forgiving one another. We are told that we are “required to forgive all humans,” reports Doctrine and Covenants 64.10. Forgiveness is our responsibility. However, when we teach our children the principle of repentance, more is involved than saying “I am sorry.” Repentance required that we change our lives and, if possible, make amends for our mistakes. This is where the principle of restitution comes in. Restitution has always been a part of the gospel plan. We read in the law of Moses that when one has sinned against another, “one shall even restore it in the principal, and shall add the fifth part more hereto,” reports Leviticus 6.5. #RandolphHarris 3 of 18
When we make a restitution for our sins, we show our Father in Heaven that we are willing to change our lives. As parents, we can d much to instill this important principle in our family. Restitution should be made for mistakes. If we run into the back of someone else’s car, it is called an “accident.” However, the law still expects us to pay for having the other car repaired. Restitution is just one part of repentance. Repentance really involves changing our hearts and our lives and accepting the atonement of Christ. Everyone needs to know that God loved them so much that “He gave his only begotten Son,” reports John 3.16. God did that so people could repent. He paid the wages for your sins. The wages of sin is death. It is also important to understand that restitution would be of little worth without the great sacrifice of the Lord Jesus Christ. We are so tied to the foolish idea which regards body and mind as two wholly separate and different entities, that all too many regard it as undignified to practice physical exercises in order to influence the mind. The discoveries of mentalism show how foolish is such an attitude, how much we miss in outer helps to inner attainment. Whether or not someone else provides restitution to us when we have been hurt, we should still forgive. Two types of studies inform what we know about forgiveness and mental health: studies of people with forgiving personalities, and studies that teach people how to forgive. Some research examines the mental health of people who already have unforgiving or forgiving personalities. Some people seem to harbor grudges, and some practice forgiveness across a range of hurtful experiences. #RandolphHarris 4 of 18
Unforgiving people—whether college students in research studies or clients in therapy—feel more anxious, depressed, and inferior than forgiving people. But why? Does a forgiving personality result in better mental health? Does better mental health make it easier to forgive across situations and over time? Or does adherence to faith—or even the support of family and friends—promote both a forgiving personality style and better mental health? Although we do not yet know the answers to these questions, we do know something about the effects of forgiving in response to specific hurts. In separate universities, both Robert Enright and Everett Worthington Jr. have studied the effects of teaching forgiveness. Can people learn to forgive? It seems so—for adolescents and the elderly, men and women, survivors of incest and people with everyday hurts, and people in individual and group therapy. What are the mental-health benefits? Generally, forgiveness therapies increase clients’ willingness and ability to forgive. When clients complete forgiveness therapies, they feel less grief, depression, anxiety, and anger. They also feel more self-esteem, more hope, more-optimistic attitudes toward family members and other offenders, and more desire for reconciliation. Forgiveness therapies work better than control conditions without treatment. However, forgiveness therapies do not always surpass supportive discussion therapies (both treatments can benefit mental health). Even so, people who forgive more—regardless of the type of therapy—have lower depression and anxiety, and high self-esteem. If clients feel wounded by or vengeful toward an offender—forgives therapy can both help them forgive and improve their mental health. #RandolphHarris 5 of 18
Most physical health studies have focused primarily on the health consequences of being unforgiving. In type A personalities—highly competitive, ambitious, rushed, easily angered, and hostile—hostility is the dangerous part, ratcheting up the risk of dying early from heart disease. Why? For one, hostile people are more physically reactive when they perceive interpersonal offenses (and they might even be more likely to perceive offenses in the first place). When angered, hostile people experience an exaggerated release of stress hormones, a large cholesterol dump into the blood stream, and a suppressed immune response, to name a few. On top of that, hostile people typically smoke more, overeat, and drink more alcohol—all risky for heart health. As if that were not enough, hostile people often lack social support—they are not as much fun to be around!—placing them at risk for both mental and physical problems. If hostility—an unforgiving personality style—is physically dangerous, then reducing hostility should reduce coronary problems. Indeed, type A’s who learned to manage their anger and become more forgiving also improved their cardiac health. What are some other consequences of being unforgiving or forgiving? College students in one study remembered someone from real life who had hurt them. At different points in the experiment, they focused on four different reactions to his offender: they mentally rehashed the hurt and nursed a grudge (two unforgiving responses), and they focused on the humanity of the offender and tried to genuinely forgive him or her (two forgiving responses). #RandolphHarris 6 of 18
When the students focused on unforgiving responses, their blood pressure rates, heart rates, sweat levels, brow muscle tension, and negative feelings: all were significantly higher than when the students were forgiving. By contrast, forgiving responses induced calmer feelings and physical responses. It appears that harboring unforgiveness comes at an emotional and physiological cost. By contrast, cultivating forgiveness may cut these costs and even bring some benefits, at least in the short term. The jury is out on the long-terms health effects of forgiveness. Perhaps future research will trac people over time and document long-term health outcomes. Will forgiving and unforgiving responses have long term effects on health if they are sufficiently frequent, intense, and enduring? When physiological systems stay highly aroused, they can eventually lead to physical breakdown. If forgiveness clams that arousal, it could buffer health. The challenge we now face is to help people learn not only how to forgive in the short term, but how to make forgiving a way of life. When we consistently practice the virtue of forgiving, we may see the greatest mental and physical health benefits. As Christians, we care about forgiveness and might readily embrace the beneficial messages about forgiveness and health. However, does this promising research have any potential pitfalls? Let us look at three examples. Can research prove Christian claims? Scientific research on forgiveness—and other virtues—holds value for addressing some questions (such as who is more likely to forgive, and what effects forgiveness has on feelings and physiology). #RandolphHarris 7 of 18
However, the scientific method in incapable of testing the ultimate truth claims of Christianity. Although science can illuminate the relationships among forgiveness-related thoughts, feelings, and physiology, science cannot tell us whether we ought to forgive. And whereas science can assess whether certain people judge forgiveness to be a virtue (and whether this is related to their behaviour), science cannot determine whether forgiving is virtuous. Is good behavior always good for us? It seems reasonable that something that we believe is good would also be good for us. However, this is not necessarily so. Being faithful and doing what is good does not inevitably secure good mental and physical health. People may alienate us because our beliefs are countercultural. We may suffer scorn for our faithful labours. We may feel depressed as we work with the sick and sorrowing. Sometimes discipleship has a cost. Why forgive? Some Christians have come to think that the reason they should forgive and should not hold grudges is because forgiveness is healthier. The because in that sentence is problematic. As valuable as research data are, they simply cannot serve as our ultimate motivation. Scientific data describe the way things are and help us predict what will happen in the future. However, these predictions do not always hold up. What would happen if—in future research—we discovered that forgiveness was so difficult for some people that it caused stress, negative emotion, and physical problems? Would that mean that we should stop forgiving? What would Christians do? In the best case, Christians’ motivation to forgive would be unshaken. #RandolphHarris 8 of 18
We do not forgive because it benefits us. Those benefits may be a welcome by-product. However, our motivation to forgive is rooted in God’s call to forgive, our gratitude for God’s forgiveness of us, and our desire to imitate Christ—the one who perfectly modeled forgiveness and even now perfects our efforts to practice forgiveness. Many therapists believe that some people need to go to pieces, to become totally disorganized, in order to have a chance at better organization. I think this may be true as things stand at present. Our understanding of psychotherapy is not sufficiently developed for therapists to be able to help people disintegrate just in the right area and to the right extent, and in fifty-minute packages! Nor is enough known as yet about the circumstances in which the natural healing process (vis medicatrix naturae) will work best, and how we may encourage it. There is still much to learn. What is clear, however, is that some people feel that they may be falling apart, or even flying apart. An absolutely terrifying state of mind, an unbearable agony; yet this may have already happened in infancy: the unbearable has already happened. Yet is maybe that this is a thing that may need to happen to them again before they can get to an integrated personality-structure which feels better at a fundamental level. It is also clear that they need to be held somehow during that falling-apart time. It is surely almost obvious that being held by a hospital organization or a bed or drug. In practice, however, there is still a lot that psychotherapists need to learn. A little more is known about more controlled therapeutic regressions and relaxations of integration. #RandolphHarris 9 of 18
At certain times in therapy, we may be in touch with a baby part of ourselves, and its terrible experiences, while at an adult level, too, all is confusion, disintegration, lack of connectedness, lack of context or meaning. This horrible experience is nothing new. What is new is the experience of feeling like this in the presence of someone who can take all this without losing one’s hold. At first, the adult part of us cannot hold on, never having been able to since babyhood. However, the therapist holds it, is not swallowed up by it, does not deny it but continues to be in touch both with the disintegrated adult and the disintegrated baby parts. In due course, if things go well, the adult part of us co-operates with the therapist in holding the baby and, further along in time, the therapist’s help is no longer needed. Then, the adult is able to feel the baby’s disintegration without feeling overwhelmed by it—the disintegration is integrated as part of the personality: it is not the whole. It is this that helps people get better. The facilitating environment is there to enable the maturational processes to proceed: safety, recognition, opportune reality-presentation. What else? A facilitating environment is in the end not enough. People are needed. Persons. Personal relationships between two whole persons, because one of them is still a tenuous patchwork of disintegrated and suffering adult and baby bits, even then it is important that there is a person in the relationship who is adult and whole, and that is the therapist. Like a good parent, like a good friend, the therapist is there to maintain the consoling knowledge that there are still good things, and most basically, that the good relationship has survived. “You are still you, I am still I, we are still together and sharing.” #RandolphHarris 10 of 18
“You and I are both at risk of natural disaster but the relationship is surviving.” “You may be (I may be) more confused, more lost, more inept, more of a coward, more sadistic or dirtier than you wanted to believe, but we both know it now and the relationship is still there.” “Your parent(s) may have been more confused, lost, inept, cowardly, sadistic, or dirty than you wanted to believe, but we both know it now, and the relationship is still intact.” That is what holding is. It is not easy to achieve. If analysts concentrate on either the grandiose or the wretched part of the psyche, they waste their time. Both must be accepted, both held: when they are, then parts of the personality which were previously disowned will contribute strength and solidity to the whole. Less than two centuries ago most humans were working on the land, the sea, and the forests and mines. In the cities they worked in hand-operated workshops and the cities themselves were no so large; the countryside was close at hand. They worked hard and long, using the muscles of their bodies, and so did their wives. This involuntary exercise of the muscular system, this exposure to sunshine and fresh air, this limitation to fresh and unpreserved foods, kept most of them healthy and strong even if the lack of better housing and sanitation kept short the lives of some of them. Then came the industrial revolution, when the machine and the civilization it created changed their habits of living. Now they crowd into cities, enter sedentary occupations, sit in chairs for long hours, or stand at mechanical assembly lines. Their bodies become soft, flabby, and undeveloped. Their organs of digestion function imperfectly. #RandolphHarris 11 of 18
Yet such is their hypnotized condition that these people do not realize the harm which modern ways have done them; indeed, they usually pity their ancestors! However, those who do realize it and feel uneasy in their conscience about it, need to make a constructive effort to eliminate the deterioration and the atrophy which are the price paid for straying away from Nature. There is no better way to bring the body under control than the way used to bring the mind under control—to put in under a daily routine of exercise and to have a fixed time for their repeated practice. The best time naturally to do exercise is on rising from bed, but it may not be the most convenient time. If the body is a battery and needs regular recharging (through relaxation practices), it is also a structure and needs reconditioning (through indicated exercises). Cicero’s prescription to follow the daily period of exercise with a period of rest is an excellent one. It is possible with only twelve months of regular, daily work to build up a perfect physical control. The ordinary bodily exercises can soon become tiring to middle-aged people. Moreover they take twice or treble the time needed for the simple culture of the spine, which is the most concentrated form of exercise possible. It stretches the body to the limit. It may be too much to ask students who have reached middle or old age to try all these exercises in physical betterment or follow all these instructions in physical condition. However, what they may find impossible to perform or what they may be disinclined to practice, they can still make advantageous use in the following way. #RandolphHarris 12 of 18
Let them bring such teaching to the notice of younger persons, to children in their teens and those just beyond the threshold of adulthood—for it is far easier for these younger persons to do than for older ones. The effort required is much less, the habits not so much encrusted. The body is deliberately made to exercise itself in certain attitudes and gestures. Any gesture become an attitude when it is arrested. Care of the physical organism will require attention to physical exercise as well as physical relaxation and to deep and abdominal breathing. The disuse of some muscles and the misuse of others can only lead to bodily faults. Restore he first to use, correct the second. As the new 20th century opened, antiquated Victorian social patterns were further substantially modified by a Progressive Era emphasis on the housewife as a “domestic engineer.” This was consciously advocated by Progressives and middle-road feminists to elevate household activities to the realm of skilled domestic engineering in order to provide housewives both higher status and greater personal freedom. No longer could a middle-class woman know only how to manage servants; now she was a manager responsible for the “scientific management” of the home. This meant she had to know budgeting, sanitation, and the characteristics of foods (balanced meals); she had to be an informed consumer. This emphasis on domestic science was reflected in schools and colleges, which established departments of Home Economics. The land grant colleges which had first brought professional programs such as dentistry and engineering onto campuses, were also in the forefront in establishing programs of home economics for the application of domestic science. (Following World War II, the idea of scientific management was further extended by universities into the realm of personal relations with the proliferation of courses on Marriage and Family.) #RandolphHarris 13 of 18
All the concern with domestic management was designed to increase women’s freedom by making the home role more professional and less restrictive. Mary Pattison made this explicit in her influential Principles of Domestic Engineering, where she sought to make the home more efficient by standardizing household tasks into science (May Pattison, Principles of Domestic Engineering: or What, Why, and How of a Home, Trow Press, New York, 1915). Through the use of stopwatch and charts plus several thousand questionnaires that had been distributed to Ne Jersey housewives, the efficient ways to cook clean, and sew were detailed. The titles of some of the chapters give a sense of the scope of the work. Titles of chapters include, “An Auto-Operative House,” “The Business of Purchasing,” “The Regeneration of the Kitchen,” “Personal Freedom,” “Organization of the Family,” “The Cultural Value of Housework,” “The Organization of the Consumer,” and “Housework and Democracy.” The scientific management of the home was tied to progressive idealism. According to the book’s final paragraph, “the truly progressive home is akin to democracy’s method…Domestic engineering would encourage cooperation between men and women leading to personal freedom and personal independence.” The new progressive idealism shows Democracy as a Religion, where men and women guided by God, united, shall work for its issues. “He is in glory, Who whilst He rejoices in Himself, needs not further praise,” reports Moral xxxii, 7. To be in glory, however, is the same as to be blessed. Therefore, since we enjoy God in respect to our intellect, because “vision is the whole of reward,” as Augustine says (De Civ. Dei. xxii), it would seem that beatitude is said to be in God in respect of His intellect. #RandolphHarris 14 of 18
Beatitude is perfect good of an intellect operation, by which in some sense it grasps everything. When the beatitude of every intellectual nature consists in understanding. Now in God, to be and to understand are one and the same thing; differing only in the manner of our understanding them. Beatitude must therefore be assigned to God in respect of God in respect of His intellect; as also to the blessed, who are called blessed [beati] by reason of the assimilation to His beatitude. This argument proves that beatitude belongs to God; not that beatitude pertains essentially to Him under the aspect of His essence; but rather under the aspect of His intellect. Since beatitude is good, it is the object of the will; now the object is understood as prior to the act of power. Whence in our manner of understanding, divine beatitude precedes the act of will at rest in it. This cannot be other than the act of the intellect; and thus beatitude is to be found in an act of the intellect. With both the brief Glimpse and the lasting Fulfilment comes a strong feeling of release. This refers to release from all the various kinds of limitation and restriction which have hemmed and oppressed one heretofore. Like a prisoner emerging from a gloomy cell after many years of an invalid liberated from long confinement in a hospital bed, one will feel an overwhelming sense of relief as the glimpse deepens and all cares, all burdens, fade away. There is an air of effectiveness in the experience which accompanies the glimpse, a feeling that here is real power ready for use and easy to use, in the way that the Overself directs, of course. It is like the feeling of returning to a well-beloved home after long absence, a joy whose arisal is spontaneous and unavoidable. #RandolphHarris 15 of 18
When the glimpse is at its most, one hears within one the harmony of things like a joyous song. The stillness made one feel as religious and reverential as could be, yet one remained unpraying, even unthinking. The base, the mean, the unworthy, and the low seem alien and far from one: the noble, the high, the true, and the ideal seem to become one’s own very nature. From this rare contact one draws an unspeakable peace, a divine upliftment. Too many lives have a hard grey colour about them. The glimpse changes this, for an hour or a day, and puts a delicate pastel beauty in its place. All that is negative in one’s character fades away for the time of this glimpse, as if it had never existed. For one feels that there is pure harmony at the heart of things, within the Universe’s Mind, and that one has momentarily touched it. In these enchanted moments, all life takes on the shadowlike quality of a dream. The gulf between the impersonal calm of one’s present state and the egotistical emotion of one’s earlier one, is immense. The sudden Olympian elation which the glimpse gives, the unfamiliar feeling that it is like looking through a window on an entirely different and wholly glorious World of being, the inner knowing that this is reality—these things make it a benediction. When one is in that consciousness, there is nothing either in place or time which one wants for. For one’s mind is at peace. It is a strange paradox that in this experience although a human becomes infinitely humbler—for one has to be passive to surrender, if it is to happen at all—one finds at the same time an immense dignity within oneself. #RandolphHarris 16 of 18
In these glorious moments the awareness of evil in the World faces out; by contrast the continuity of original goodness stays unbroken. The sense of well-being which comes with a glimpse spreads into the body, lights up the mind, glows in the emotions. In its enfolding peace, one will lose one’s Earthly burdens for a time; by its brooding wisdom, one will comprehend the necessity of renunciation; through its mysterious spell, one will confer grace on suffering humans. As its beauty seeps into one and affects one’s entire feeling-nature, all one’s grievances against other humans, against life itself, dissolve. All regrets for the past, complaints about the present, and grumbles over the future, pass away. Even more, all contempt or hatred for other humans passes too. The glimpse brings a feeling of enchantment. It is the opening of a secret door. The effect is a magical release from burdens and a flooding by hope. So, friends, every day do something that will not compute. Love the Lord. Love the World. Work for nothing. Take all that you have and be humble. Love someone who does not deserve it (from afar). Denounce corruption and embrace the flag. Hope to live in that free republic for which it stands, one nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all. Praise ignorance, for what humans have not encountered one has not destroyed. Ask the questions that have no answers. Invest in the millennium. Plant redwoods. Say that your main crop is the forest that you did not plant, that you will not live to harvest. Say that the leaves are harvested when they have rotted into the mold. Call that profit. Prophesy such returns. Put your faith in the two inches of humus that will build under the trees every thousand years. Listen to carrion—put your ear close, and hear the faint chattering of the songs that are to come. #RandolphHarris 17 of 18
Expect the end of the World. Laugh. Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful though you have considered all the facts. So long as the honourable do not go cheap for power, please honourable people more than others. Ask yourself: Will his satisfy an honourable person satisfied to a bear a child? Will this disturb the sleep of a woman near to giving birth? Go with your love to the fields. Let easy in the shade. Rest your head in her lap. Swear allegiance to what is nighest your thoughts. As soon as the general and the politicos can predict the motions of your mind, lose it. Leave it as a sign to mark the false trial, the way you did not go. Be like the fox who makes more tracks than necessary, some in the wrong direction. Practice resurrection. For the sake of Thy truth, Thy covenant, Thy greatness and glory; for the sake of Thy Torah, They majesty, Thy troth and Thy fame; for the sake of Thy mercy, Thy goodness, Thy unity, Thine honour, and Thy wisdom; for the sake of Thy sovereignty, Thine eternity, Thy mystic bond with us, Thy strength and Thy splendor; for the sake of Thy righteousness, Thy holiness, Thine abundant mercies, and Thy divine presence, do Thou save us; for the sake of Thy praise, do Thou save us, we beseech Thee. O Eternal, do Thou save us. Save Thou the World’s foundation-stone, the Temple, the house of Thy choice, the threshing-floor of Ornan, the Jebusite, from whom David bought the site of the Temple, the sacred shrine, even Mount Moriah, hill of revelation and abode of Thy majesty, where once David dwelt, godliest of Lebanon, lovely height, the joy of the whole Earth, perfection of beauty, lodging-place of righteousness. #RandolphHarris 18 of 18
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The Book of Job tells us, “He who uncovers mysteries hidden in darkness; brings utter darkness into the light.” Will man’s unquenching need for discovery bring about his end? You are hogging the conversation, my Garrulous if Gracious Friend, the way I hog the fire in the Winter! Do let me get a word in edgeways. The Great Abraham again, in Genesis again (18.27): “Let me speak to My Lord when I am dust and ash!” If that is not just the perfect description of myself about to pray! Of course, I could puff myself up a little, but then You would get mad. You would stand against me, line up my iniquities, and use them as witnesses against me! How could I contradict them? You would have me then. However, what would happen to me? I would vilify myself and reduce myself to nothing. I would give up all claim to reputation. I would pestle myself to death, or at least into dust. All this, and still Your grace would favor me, Still Your light would illumine my heart. However, still all would not be well. Everything about me that seemed so good, You would drown like kittens. And in the very puddles made by my nothingness. That done, You would show me to myself, what I am, what I was, where I have arrived, because, as he Psalmist has said in the Latin Bible, “I am nothing, and I know nothing,” (72.22). If, however, You take even a quick look at me, a sidelong glance maybe, I take on new strength, new joy. Wow! Raised up, revived, embraced. A feather, yes, but also a dead weight. Lett me go, O Lord, and I will plummet to the Lowest Depths at my slowest speed. Your love does this, preventing me from falling and raising me up once I have fallen, guarding me from grave dangers and yet rescuing me from all scrapes. Love of self—that was the dagger that did me in. #RandolphHarris 1 of 21
However, seeking You and loving You, I found not only You, but also myself. Then something happened. From that mutual love, I slid down the slippery slope again, bottoming out in the deepest wells. That is because You, O Sweetest Lord, You do for me far beyond what I could earn and above what I could ever dare hope or ask. Blessed are You, my God. That is the prayer of one who is all unworthy of Your blessings. Even to the ingrates and apostates Your infinite goodness never ceases doing good. Turn us around till we face You again, that again we may be thankful, dutiful, prayerful. What else can we say, except, with Isaiah, that “You are only salvation,” (33.2) and, with the Psalmist, our only “virtue and strength” (46.1). The Nature-religions merely reinforce that view of Nature which we spontaneously adopt in our moments of rude health and cheerful brutality; the anti-natural religions do the same for the view we take in moments of compassions, fastidiousness, or lassitude. The Christian doctrine does neither of these things. If any human approaches it with the idea that because Jahweh is the God of fertility our lasciviousness is going to be authorized or that the Selectiveness and Vicariousness of God’s method will excuse us for imitating (as “Heroes,” “Supermen” or social parasites) the lover Selectiveness and Vicariousness of Nature, one will be stunned and repelled by the inflexible Christian demand for chastity, humility, mercy and justice. On the other hand, if we come to it regarding the death which precedes every re-birth, or the fact of inequality, or our dependence on others and their dependence on us, as the mere odious necessities of an evil cosmos, and hoping to be delivered into transparent and “enlightened” spirituality where all these things just vanish, we shall be equally disappointed. #RandolphHarris 2 of 21
We shall be told that, in one sense, and despite enormous differences, it is “the same all the way up”; that hierarchical inequality, the need for self surrender, the willing sacrifice of self to others, and the thankful and loving (but unashamed) acceptance of others’ sacrifice to us, hold say in the realm beyond Nature. It is indeed only love that makes the difference: all those very same principles which are evil in the World of selfishness and necessity are good in the World of love and understanding. This, as we accept this doctrine of the higher World, we make new discoveries about the lower World. It is from that hill that we first really understand the landscape of this valley. Here, at last, we find (as we do not find either in the Nature-religions or in the religions that deny Nature) a real illumination: Nature is being lit up by a light from beyond Nature. Someone is speaking who knows more about her than can be known from inside her. Throughout this doctrine it is, of course, implied that Nature is infected with evil. Those great key-principles which exists as modes of goodness in the Divine Life, take on, in her operations, not merely a less perfect form (that we should, on any view, expect) but forms which I have been driven to describe as morbid or depraved. And this depravity could not be totally removed without the drastic re-making of Nature. Complete human virtue could indeed banish from human life all the evils that now arise in it from Vicariousness and Selectiveness and retain only the good: but the wastefulness and painfulness of non-human Nature would remain—and would, of course, continue to infect human life in the form of disease. #RandolphHarris 3 of 21
And destiny which Christianity promises to man clearly involves a “redemption” or “re-making” of Nature which could not stop at Man, or even at this planet. We are told that “the whole creation” is in travail, and that Man’s re-birth will be the signal for hers. This gives rise to several problems, the discussion of which puts that whole doctrine of the Incarnation in a clearer light. In the first place, we ask how the Nature created by a good God comes to be in this condition? By which question we may mean either how she comes to be imperfect—to leave “room for improvement” as the schoolmaster says in their reports—or else, how she comes to be positively depraved. If we ask the question in the first sense, the Christian answer (I think) is that God, from the first, created her such as to reach her perfection by a process in time. He made an Earth at first “without form and void” and brought it by degrees to its perfection. In this, as elsewhere, we see the familiar pattern—descent from God to the formless Earth and re-ascent from the formless to the finished. In that sense a certain degree of “evolutionism” or “developmentalism” is inherent in Christianity. So much for Nature’s imperfection; her positive depravity calls for a very different explanation. According to the Christians this is all due to sin: the sin both of men and of powerful, non-human beings, supernatural but created. The unpopularity of this doctrine arises from the widespread Naturalism of our age—the belief that nothing but Nature exists and that if anything else did she is protected from it by a Maginot Line—and will disappear as this error is corrected. #RandolphHarris 4 of 21
To be sure, the morbid inquisitiveness about such beings which led our ancestors to a pseudo-science of Demonology, is to be sternly discouraged: our attitude should be that of the sensible citizen in wartime who disbelieves nearly every particular story. We must limit ourselves to the general statement that beings in a different, and higher, “Nature” which is partially interlocked with ours have, like men, fallen and have tampered with things inside our frontier. The doctrine, besides proving itself fruitful of good in each humans’ spiritual life, helps to protect us from shallowly optimistic or pessimistic views of Nature. To call her either “good” or “evil” is boys’ philosophy. We find ourselves in a World of transporting pleasures, ravishing beauties, and tantalizing possibilities, but all constantly being destroyed, all coming to nothing. Nature has all the air of a good thing spoiled. The sin, both of men and angels, was rendered possible by the fact that God gave them free will: this surrendering a portion of His omnipotence (it is again a deathlike or descending movement) because He saw that from a World of free creatures, even though they fell, He could work out (and this is the re-ascent) a deeper happiness and a fuller splendour than any World of automata would admit. And God said, it is very good. “Male and female He created them…God saw that he had made, and indeed, it was very good,” reports Genesis 1.27-28, 31. One of the toughest issues that Christians wrestle with is deciding how they should feel about their own sexuality. Perhaps they have absorbed the idea that Christianity is anti-sexual, that Jesus would not be pleased with their feelings dealing with pleasures of the flesh, that God is not eager for them to experience pleasure, that the Bible is a book of “thou shalt nots.” Believing such, yet also feeling heir pulsating urges of the flesh and bombarded with cultural models and messages advocating uninhibited expression of pleasures of the flesh, they may feel confused, tense, guilty, or frightened. #RandolphHarris 5 of 21
What, then, is a Christian view of sexuality, and how does this compare with the view of sexuality found in academic and popular psychology? Some Christians have indeed talked as if Christianity views pleasures of the flesh or desire or the body as bad—as something to be ashamed of. (In the Library of Congress’s classification of religious books, the subcategory of “sex” comes just after “sin.”) Actually, as we noted, Christianity affirms that body. The Bible teaches that the created material World is good, that human nature is a mind-body unity, and that some kind of body will be given us at the resurrection as an essential ingredient of our everlasting happiness. In the biblical utopia of Eden, man and woman were refreshingly accepting of their bodies: they “were both unclothed, and were not ashamed,” and delighted in cleaving to each other “as one flesh.” In the Old Testament, this attitude that pleasures of the flesh is a gift in which we can rejoice is celebrated in the Song of Solomon as the erotic longings of lovers for each other are reciprocated openly. “I am sick with Love…O that his left hand were under my head, and that his right hand embraced me!” declares the bride-to-be. “You are stately as a palm tree, and your breasts are like its clusters. I say I will climb the palm tree and lay hold of its branches,” replies her ardent lover. In this biblical view, the significance of intimacy dealing with pleasures of the flesh is not diminished but expanded. Play dealing with pleasures of the flesh is an adult recreational activity and much more. The mutual self-exposure and cleaving of activity involving pleasures of the flesh arise from and satisfy the married adult’s need for intimate communion with a loved one. #RandolphHarris 6 of 21
To have intercourse is, in the Hebrew language, “to know” one’s partner in an especially intimate way. Behaviour dealing with pleasures of the flesh is therefore for married adult humans a social behaviour for procreation. Seen in this light, the biblical laws against promiscuity and adultery are not prohibitions against pleasure. Rather, they point us toward deeper pleasures—the delicious pleasures of affection, playfulness, intimacy, and climax within the lifelong unity and security that we call marriage. The husband and wife should give themselves to each other, advised St. Paul: “Do not deprive one another except perhaps by agreement for a set time, to devote yourselves to prayer, and then come together again.” God therefore cautions us not against pleasure, but against pleasures that are too weak, too unsatisfying for God’s favourite creatures, or that dehumanize God’s creatures. If the Bible advises restraint of our appetites, it is not because God forbids the pleasures we were created to enjoy, but because God has better things in store for us—a more fully human sexuality. God beckons us not to trade or cheapen the life-uniting, love-renewing experience of committed sexual love for a lesser and more temporary pleasure. Donald Joy (an aptly named Christian writer on this subject) likens biblical moral teachings to an owner’s manual on the care and maintenance of the human machines, provided by its maker to help us fulfill its potential. Of this much we can be sure: God is for us. If the human benefits of any activity outweigh the costs, then God is for it. And enjoying pleasures of the flesh—genuine, self-giving, tender, joyful, caring love—is most assuredly something that God is for. It is ennobling experience, shaking out for a few minutes or hours all that is base in a human, all that is mean, small-hearted, and narrow-minded. However, perhaps even more marvellous than that is the enormous contentment with which it fills one. Desire dissolves, and wit them the frustration, the anxiety, the hopelessness, and the expectancy that accompany them when they remain unfulfilled. #RandolphHarris 7 of 21
For a short time one loses oneself in this beautiful consciousness and lets go of the continual routine which makes up one’s usual day. One gains a healing rest in nerve, mind, feeling, and even body Such a glimpse comes of itself—“The wind bloweth where it listeth,” declared Jesus. These glimpses are encounters with divinity. There is a quality about them which separates them from all the other contacts and encounters of life. This Stillness is called, in the New Testament, “the peace which passeth understanding.” It is perhaps the chief feature of the glimpse. That memorable moment when one first opens the door of Consciousness will clear doubt, sanctify feeling, and balance the entire life. This new sense of being liberated from the confining measurements of one’s own ego, unimpeded by attachments and embroilments, carried beyond the vicious passions to inward equipoise, is unimaginably satisfying. In those moments of inward glory all one’s life expands. One’s intelligence advances and one’s goodness perceives new vistas of growth. Heaven opens out for a while in one’s emotional World. When one steps forth from the ego’s timed life the Overself’s liberating timelessness, the feeling of confinement falls away like a heavy cloak. One enjoys an unimagined exhilaration. Just as a blind person suddenly recovering one’s sight is carried away by a rush of joy, so the mystical neophyte suddenly recovering one’s spiritual consciousness is carried away by emotional ecstasy. However, just as in the course of time the former will become accustomed to the use of one’s sight and one’s joy will subside, so the latter will find one’s ecstasies subside and pass away. One’s endeavours to recapture them prove fruitless because it is in the nature of emotion that it should suffer a fall after it enjoys a rise. #RandolphHarris 8 of 21
This wonderful and exquisite feeling is really within oneself, only one transfers it unconsciously to the scenes and persons outside oneself and thus perceives goodness and beauty everywhere. If it begins quietly and unassumingly, it ends deeply—with the sensation of having entered briefly and memorably a higher World of being. If the intercourse of a man and a woman is the most intimate act in the lives of both, the conscious contact of a human being with the Overself is even more intimate still. One’s consciousness is lifted up into another World of being; one’s little self is in communication with the Overself; one’s perception of truth is instantly translated into power to live that truth. It is as if one climbed to a high observation post and from there saw what was before utterly unexpected and incredible. The peace of these moments, whether achieved by prayer or received by grace, yields a rich satisfying happiness. Why? Because all those thoughts, desires, attachments, and aversions which compose the ego fade away and leave consciousness free. In this experience one loses consciousness of one’s own personal identity, a state which begins with a kind of daze but passes into a kind of ecstasy. These first experiences of feeling raised to transfiguring peaks should not be expected to reproduce themselves often. They are necessarily rare sensations. Nor, when they do repeat themselves, an they come in precisely the same form and with the same initial intensity. Something of the rapturous emotional reaction is lost by repetition of this experience, but nothing of the wonder and awe is ever lost. At such moments one is filled wit a flowing inspiration, a splendid hope, a vivid understanding. Psychological views of sexuality are mixed. To some extent, they are congenial with the Christian idea that pleasures of the flesh is a sign and seal of a life union. Several researchers have reported that cohabitation and the number of premarital sexual partners is correlated with later marital unhappiness and divorce. #RandolphHarris 9 of 21
Even better established is the finding that marriage is linked with health and happiness: married people, especially married men, tend to live longer and experience greater life satisfaction than do unmarried people. Of course, such correlations do not prove that premarital chastity predisposes a happier marriage or that marriage produces health and happiness. (Maybe healthy, happy people are more likely to marry.) However, Christians can feel reassured that the data are consistent with biblical affirmations regarding pleasures of the flesh and marriage Christians concerned about the ideas on pleasures of the flesh being taught on television, in R-rated slasher movies, and in hard-core adult films can find justification for their concerns in recent research. In addition to the well-known studies on the effects of television violence on aggressive behavior, there are now many other studies indication the: Television is an unreal fictional World—in which acts of assault outnumber acts of affection and pleasures of the flesh relationships occur mostly outside of marriage—affects people’s perceptions of the real Word. Exposure to sexual violence makes many men and women more likely to believe that many people enjoy being physically forced against their will into intercourse and the physically forcing someone against their will into intercourse is not a serious crime, more willing to say that they might actually commit a sexual assault if they knew it would go unpunished, and more willing actually to aggress against others, especially those who are vulnerable, in laboratory settings. #RandolphHarris 10 of 21
Exposure to nonviolent sexually explicit films also can make physically forcing someone into intercourse against their will seem like a more trivial crime or just part of a blind date, friendship, relationship or marital obligation. Moreover, viewers tend to become more accepting of promiscuity, extramarital pleasures of the flesh, and a vulnerable person’s submission. They also often become more dissatisfied with their own les sizzling experiences with pleasures of the flesh and with their partner. Thus, if we value interpersonal sensitivity and sound human relationships in which pleasures of the flesh is a vital part, if we care to see our partners as equals rather than as servants to our imaginations about pleasures of the flesh, adult films have demonstrable effect that are somewhat less wonderful. So, in some ways, especially in its gathering of evidence, psychology has reinforced Christian ideas and concerns about sexuality (despite potentially skewed results from the biased sample of people who may volunteer to participate in surveys involving pleasures of the flesh and experiments related to pleasures of the flesh). Psychology has also contributed to enrichment of pleasures of the flesh in ways that Christians and non-Christians alike can appreciate—by helping us better understand the nature of things that motivate pleasures of the flesh, by refuting myths about homosexuality, by developing new techniques for treating dysfunctions dealing with pleasures of the flesh. Sexuality is, however, one of those topics about which alert readers will be sensitive to psychologists’ values and assumptions. Sometimes the values of the psychologist are obvious, as when the rational-emotive therapist Albert Ellis encourages “self-gratification…with or without long-term responsibilities” and argues, “Unequivocal and eternal fidelity to any interpersonal commitment, especially marriage, leads to harmful consequences. “More often the assumed values are subtle expressed, as when people are urged not to repress or suppress their “natural” urges for pleasures of the flesh, or when textbook authors, therapists, and advice columnists simply assume that intimate dealing with pleasures of the flesh outside of marriage is normal and healthy. #RandolphHarris 11 of 21
There is a concern that adolescents may interpret “value-free” sex education as meaning that sexual intercourse is for them a harmless recreational activity. Such a conclusion would be unfortunate because promiscuous recreational pleasures of the flesh pose certain psychological, social, health, and moral problems that must be faced realistically. Pleasures of the flesh are reserved for marriage. Chastity is sexual purity. Those who are caste are morally clean in their thoughts, words, and action. Chastity means not having any relations involving pleasures of the flesh before marriage. It also means complete fidelity to husband or wife during marriage. Physical intimate between husband and wife is beautiful and sacred. It is ordained of God for the creation of children and for the expression of love within marriage. In the World today, Satan has led many people to believe that pleasures of the flesh outside marriage is acceptable. However, in God’s sight, it is a serious sin. It is an abuse of the power He has given us to create life. The prophet Alma taught that sexual sins are more serious than any other sins expect murder and denying the Holy Ghost. “And this is not all, my son. Thou didst do that which was grievous unto me; for thou didst forsake the ministry, and did go over the land of Siron among the borders of the Lamanites, after the harlot Isabel. Yes, she did steal away the hearts of many; but this was no excuse for the hearts of many; but this was no excuse for thee, my son. Thou shouldest have tended to the ministry wherewith thou wast entrusted. Know ye not, my son, that these things are an abomination in the sight of the Lord; yea, most abominable above all sins,” reports Alma 39.3-5. #RandolphHarris 12 of 21
If participants love each other, sometimes they try to convince themselves that sexual relationships outside marriage are acceptable. This is not true. Breaking the law of chastity and encouraging someone else to do so is not an expression of love. People who love each other will never endanger one another’s happiness and safety in exchange for temporary personal pleasure. For years, man has tried to rush Nature’s process, but we must not or we risk being burned by the fires of creation. Labels describe behaviour, but they also subtly evaluate it. When sex researcher label sexually restrained individuals as “erotophobic” or having “high sex guilt,” they both describe and evaluate such tendencies. Whether we label sexual acts we do not practice as “perversions,” deviations,” or an “alternative sexual life style” says something about our underlying attitudes. The values of some psychologist can also be discerned form their reactions to the report of the Attorney General’s commission on pornography. The commission did not label “soft-core” magazines, such as Playboy, as pornographic, nor did it recommend outright censorship. However, not surprisingly, in view of the research on pornography’s effects, it did express strong concern about the growing availability of pornography and its effect on women’s vulnerability to sexual harassment and abuse. Although many feminist and religious leaders welcomes the report, the press preferred to quite contemptuous psychologists, such as Ted McIlvenna, president of the Institute for the Advanced Study of Sexuality: “Sexologist should universally view this report with disdain…It is totally an erotophoic report.” The problem, some of these psychologists complained, was that the commission took the psychological research on pornography too seriously—an interesting reversal from the more common complaint that government bodies have ignored research. #RandolphHarris 13 of 21
So, in welcoming sexual advice and sex research, Christians should be critically alert to psychologists’ values. On the other hand, we should also counter the nonbiblical idea that sexual relations are bad or that passion is something to be ashamed of. In the final analysis, we Christians are not so much opposed to promiscuity and pornography as we are for the tense closeness and the pleasureful sense of union that occurs when lifelong partners express and renew their love. In such a relationship, sexuality has the potential to become all that the Bible envisions its being: procreational and deeply affectional. Let us therefore remember: our sexuality is a gift that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it, knowing that God said, it is very good. When people care for one another enough to keep the law of chastity, their love, trust, and commitment increase, resulting in greater happiness and unity. In contrast, relationships built on sexual immortality sour quickly. Those who engage in sexual immortality often feel fear, guilt, and shame. Bitterness, jealousy, and hatred soon replace any beneficial feelings that once existed in a relationship. Our Heavenly Father has given us the law of chastity for our protection. Obedience to this law is essential to personal peace and strength of character and to happiness in the home. Those who keep themselves sexually pure will avoid the spiritual and emotional damage that always comes from sharing physical intimacies with someone outside of marriage. “He that looketh on a woman to lust after her, or if any shall commit adultery in their hearts, they shall not have the Spirit, but shall deny the faith and shall fear,” reports Doctrine and Covenants 63.16. These warning apply to all people, whether they are married or single. #RandolphHarris 14 of 21
Those who keep themselves sexually pure will be sensitive to the Holy Ghost’s guidance, strength, comfort, and protection (that is why they always survive in horror movies), and will fulfill an important requirement for receiving a temple recommend and participating in temple ordinances. The nineteenth-century ideology of female domesticity suggested women were particularly physically and morally equipped to nurture. This is where the belief in the human being the “woman’s sphere came from,” and the result was a combination that gave moral support to mid-nineteenth-century middle-class suburbanization. Woman’s place was in the home, and that was ideally in the expanding suburbs. It was even reflected in the architecture. Building homes with kitchen windows that looked out into the backyard so woman could watch their children play as they cooked. Some homes even had walls of class along the dining room and living room, also as a way for women to watching their children while having Tupperware parties or afternoon tea and biscuits in the parlor while the darlings play in the backyard. On these story book house with a faceted tower and battened shutters, the crenellation parapet, projects and image of conjuring up archers and protecting the lord’s castle. For the home was to be a fortress and a refuge from the evils and vices of the city. These effervescent suburban dwellings were meant to evoke vernacular homes in western Europe, a nostalgia imported by American soldiers after World War I. The purpose of the architecture was to make one feel like one suddenly slipped into the Germanic forest of Sleeping Beauty, and are peeping at a quaint cottage in the clearing the side of a modest mansion. They were also a snapshot of an optimistic era when anything seemed possible, which no doubt appeals to people in these jaded times. Story book architect arose in the 16th century, people were fascinated by the Middle Ages. For instance, Marie Antoinette’s famous “farm” at Versailles was her interpretation of a medieval countryside hamlet. The 1869 castle Neuschwanstein was designed to look much older than it is. #RandolphHarris 15 of 21
Nonetheless, the storybook architecture reminded people of the good old times, when things were made by hand, which allowed people to pretend they had stepped back in time. The home, under the practical and moral guidance of the mother, was to be a sacred places in which family values could be promoted around the fireside. A middle-landscape between city and country that had trees and greenery but was neither to wild nor too urban was the proper Currier and Ives family environment. Some communities were even nonautomobile streets and had mandatory front porches and picket fences, to consciously recreate the social patterns of a Victorian small town. While the city was reviled as the center of infamy and anonymity, the suburb, with its open lawns and clean air, was to provide a healthful, natural, and moral atmosphere in which to raise children and teach values. In an era when activities were divided between men’s and women’s sphere, the city was Gomorrah—a World of men, factories, crowding, and vice. The suburban home, by contrast, was sacred space in which under the wife’s tutelage, men would be encouraged to become more civilized and children would be raised in health and virtue. The rearing of children and management of homes were not simply domestic virtues, they were activities essential for the survival of the Republic. The new constituency of middle-class non-farm women was an expanding group whose major responsibility was management of the home. Unlike farm wives, they had no responsibility for working with their husbands as partners operating a farm, nor did they have to labour long hours in the expanding urban factories and sweatshops, as did working-class women. #RandolphHarris 16 of 21
As a rebellion against the suggestion that women of the growing middle-class population had no real role, an ideology was designed that gave women a central place in national life. Surely it was a pernicious and mistaken idea, that the duties which tax a woman’s mind are petty, trivial, or unworthy of the highest grade of intellect and moral worth. Instead of allowing this feeling, every woman should imbibe from early youth, the impression, that she is training for the care of the most important, most difficult, and the most sacred and interesting duties that can possibly employ the highest intellect. Through their nurturing role, women can exercise an influence on national character that will transcend class and location. Would will provide the social order holding together American democracy. Proper management of the home and children is seen as the woman’s responsibility, and since this is so crucial, it makes her a fuller partner with her husband. Woman are neither men’s inferiors nor their equals, but their betters. Most men are still developing their strength and need o be guided and taught by women or their fathers, who are stronger. The suburban home, with its emphasis on shared domesticity, is the ideal setting in which to engage in this instruction. The nineteenth-century defining of the home’s interior as woman’s space has some very practical and beneficial consequences for home design. Kitchens, for example, were no longer simply basement rooms with open fireplaces. For the first time kitchens were designed taking into account efficiency, sanitary food preparation, and scientific housekeeping. Domestic engineering was to be utilized to create a professional and elevating influence for the housewives and servants who used the space. Clean surfaces, indoor plumbing, and proper light and ventilation were all part of the design. The result was a far more useful, comfortable, and rationally designed interior. This is not to say that most kitchens were poorly laid out and “obviously designed by a man. The nineteenth-century breakthrough was the acceptance of the view that kitchens were a specifically designed space. #RandolphHarris 17 of 21
Some people may need the kind of regression that is a relaxation of structures. Their central ego-functioning “coping” self is out of gear, else they would not be in therapy. The time may have come for them to relax and let go of their present personality—integration, so that a new arrangement may come about in which areas of their life may be integrated which have so far been denied a place. It is for this reason that therapists need to be careful to distinguish the circumstances in which it is right to focus on guilt-provoking emotions like rage or greed. Anyone in an authoritative or helping capacity is easily experienced as on the side of anti-libidinal forces. In the kind of regression and relaxation we are now considering, people need all the strength they can muster, in order to stay in touch and no evade their feelings of emptiness and desolation, and pain and terror, about which they already feel very guilty and ashamed. They must not be further weakened by having their moral and intellectual failings brought to their attention as a central issue. If, additionally, we consider that some people will need to recover these split-off regions where their bodily experiences and their (perhaps scant) memories of good times are mapped, the injunctions against promoting guilt and shame become even stronger. This is not the time to put people right—we have first to strengthen whatever strengths they already possess. Even the voice of another person can a times be disturbing. It appals me to think how much change I have prevented or delayed in patients in certain category by my personal need to interpret. If only we can wait, the patient arrives at understanding creatively and with immense joy, and I now enjoy this more than I used to enjoy the sense of having been clever. #RandolphHarris 18 of 21
When faced with error or delusion, or distress or disintegration, it is important not to be in too much of a hurry. People come to therapy unready for a direct encounter with their deeper anxieties. If they had been ready, they would have faced them and contained them. When, encouraged by an unwise therapist or friend, they are made to drop the defences they need before they are strong enough to integrate new insights, they will awake the terror which has always surrounded this split-off part, a terror which includes the terror of disintegration altogether. They will then tighten up more than ever, yet feel obscurely shamed and weakened by a sense of having failed to perform as expected. Too stark a confrontation with the deepest anxieties, especially if encouraged by someone on who a person is very dependent for a sense of security and connectedness, encourages the formation of a False Self, in order to please the therapist. Much has been written about the dangers of coaxing a patient into what looks like a recovery—the so-called “transference cure.” However, disturbed people may also be frightened into what looks like recovery, taking their therapists’ “interpretations” as implicit advice and acting rigidly on it in order to contain their disintegration. The corrosive hidden sense of hollowness and badness cannot be reached in this way. A principle might be enunciated, that in the False Self area of our analytic practice we find we make more headway by recognition of the practice we find we make more headways by recognition of the patient’s non-existence than by a long-continued working with the patient on the basis of ego-defence mechanisms. The patient’s False Self can collaborate indefinitely with the analyst in the analysis of defences, being so to speak on the analyst’s side in the game. This unrewarding work is only cut short profitably when the analyst can point to and specify an absence. It is not the aim of analysis to confront the patient with a now supposedly fully uncovered drive…The deepest level to be reached is not the drive…but the experience of the absence of the life-sustaining matrix. #RandolphHarris 19 of 21
To let people reach this terrifying level of experience in safety, therapists must allow themselves to a safe environment, facilitating, unobtrusive, unwounding. In general, it is a good thing when people are allowed space to make their own discoveries. However, if people are to make their own discoveries about what a thing can do or what it is good for, usually a period of hesitation and analyzation is necessary. It is an impingement when things are shoved at you before you know whether you want them and can use them. Those things feel alien—to turn away from them is a healthy reaction: to comply is the unhealthy response of the intimidated. So, we must allow for periods of hesitation which precede the moment when people start to make some new structure their own, truly theirs, not half the therapist’s. What is at issues here is how true new insight are to be integrated. They must not be integrated in a depersonalized form. “I-now” have to understand and hold and accept “me-then” and the situation as I experienced it then. If I am truly to feel “I discovered that,” “I made that,” “I did that,” even “I exist,” “I existed then,” “I am,” I have to be the first to be making the connections. When things are at their best, therapist and other arrive together at new meanings. Once there is a certain amount of strength—by which I mean at least the beginnings of a true-self core as an organizing principle—and once good rapport and understanding have been established, the many occasions on which such perfect timing does not happen may also serve a useful purpose. They enable people to start to come to terms with the fact that being perfectly understood (and the perfect capacity for always having perfect insight) never were and never will be their lot. The reality of other people, in all their goodness and badness and separateness is there by established, and hence also one’s own reality. And, if the experience of being held is ever to become a reality, this had to be established for it takes two for one to be held. #RandolphHarris 20 of 21
Ho. Wiyopeyata ouye power of the setting sun. We call on you. Please have pity on us that people may life. Wakinyan, thunder beings of the black west, we call on you. You are the source of both the power to live and of destruction, who ride the back of minne wichoni, the life-giving rains. For long years, the way of the people has been weak and there has been fear. Many have said that the red road would disappear and that the six powers of Wakan Tanka would turn their faces from us. It is true that many of the old ways have been lost. However, just as the life-giving rains restore the Earth after the drought, so your power will restore the Way and give it new life. We ask this not only for the red people but for all the people that they might live. In ignorance and carelessness, they have walked upon Ina Maka, our Mother. They did not understand that they are part of all beings, the four-legged, the winged, grandfather rock, the tree people, and our star brothers. Now the Earth and all our relations are crying out. They cry for the help of all people. A teaching which seeks the chief good for human beings, but ignores robust health and freedom from pain as a necessary part of the good, is an incomplete one. The old notion that mental healing is only useful to, and possible in, cases where the patient only imagines that one is sick, is outdated. A doctrine which denies the body’s existence while hypocritically trying to cure the body’s ailments, contradicts itself. In any case, the body remains there, a hard unavoidable fact which must be accepted in the end however much anyone believes one has thought it away. You upright who heard the voice of my song, may you merit to join this glorious throng; in Heavenly halls you shall meet them in time, if you hearken His Words, melodious, sublime. Exalted on high, for ever and ever, our Lord in glory and awe! We are His choice, then let us rejoice that He blessed us and gave us the Law. A true measure of a hero, is when one lays down one’s life, with the knowledge of those one saves, will never know. #RandolphHarris 21 of 21
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He Covenanted with the Devil Until He Should Arrive to the Age of Sixty Years!
He might be living, or he might be dead. There came no word of him, or from him. I was fond enough of her to be satisfied with this—he never disturbed us. While there were many individual acts of witchcraft in seventeenth-century Massachusetts, there was never an attempt or plot to make witchcraft a formal religion which would supplant Christianity. Yet we need not conclude that William Baker and his fellow-confessors were lying. It is probable that they, like the afflicted girls, were hysterics subject to hallucination. Certainly that is the conclusion to be drawn from Thomas Brattle’s opinion of them in his “Letter”: “my faith is strong concerning them that they are deluded, imposed upon, and under the influence of some evil spirit, and therefore unfit to be evidences either against themselves or anyone else.” Mr. Brattle wrote this in October 1692, when Massachusetts was retuning to stability. However, at the height of the excitement confessions like Mr. Baker’s seemed convincing enough. For one thing, they had a curious precision: he did not say there were about three hundred witches in the country but “about three hundred and sever”; he did not say there were about a hundred young wizards at the mustering of the Satanic militia but “about an hundred five.” However, what made these confessions most believable was that they offered a simple and comprehensive explanation for all the frightening events at Salem, at a time when explanations were not easy to discover. #RandolphHarris 1 of 16
There is also some testimony which remains ambiguous even today. Samuel Wardwell, for example, at his preliminary examination confessed himself a wizard. He had begun, he said, with white magic, “with telling of fortunes which sometimes came to pass” And, he said, “he used also when any creature came into his field to bid the Devil to take it, and it may be the Devil took advantage of him by that.” Eventually he had signed a pact: “He covenanted with the Evil until he should arrive to the age of sixty years.” He had renounced this confession at his trial, saying that he had made it, but that he had belied himself. He added that it was all one: “he knew he should die for it whether he owned it or no.” Ordinarily one would simply accept his renunciation. However, there are several puzzling circumstances here. For one thing, it was not all one whether he maintained or renounced his confession. People who maintained their confessions were not being brought to trail, much less executed. For another, at least a part of his confession was true; he had dabbled in the occult for some time, telling a great many fortunes, and boasting that he could make animals come to him when he wished. Finally, Mr. Wardwell was executed. However, in 1693, when the panic had subsided and the climate of opinion totally changed, there were three people who held to their confessions. Two of them were women long thought to be “senseless and ignorant creatures.” The third was Mr. Wardwell’s wife. All of these circumstances are puzzling and some of them are suspicious. However, on the other hand, there is no evidence to support his confessions of having made a pact. The only possible conclusion, it would seem, is that in this case the truth is not obtainable. #RandolphHarris 2 of 16
In a situation where the truth was so difficult to find the people of Massachusetts did what anybody else would do—they sought expert advice. In matters of witchcraft the experts were the clergy, and ultimately the advice was sought of the most distinguished clergymen in the colony. Indeed, at least one member of the trial court, Judge John Richards, asked the Reverend Cotton Mather to be present at the first trial. Reverend Mather was too ill to attend, but he did everything he could under the circumstances. He had suggested earlier (the exact date is not known) that the afflicted persons should be separated and an attempt made to cure them with prayer and fasting. He volunteered to take in as many as six of them himself. He had cured the Godwin children, and he might well have cured the Salem girls as well; certainly separation and private care would have been better treatment for hysterical fits than the excitements of a public courtroom. However, unfortunately Reverend Mather’s offer had not been accepted. Now, although he could not attend the first sitting of the court he wrote John Richards a letter offering him his opinions. In the first place, he expected that God would smile upon the labours of the court: “His people have been fasting and praying before Him for you direction, and yourselves are persons whose exemplary devotion disposeth you to such a dependence on the Wonderful Counselor, for his counsel in an affair this full of wonder, as He doth usually answers with the most favorable assistances. Yet he wanted to warn Mr. Richards. #RandolphHarris 3 of 16
Here is that warning: “And yet I most humbly beg you that in the management of the affair in your most worthy hands, you do not lay more stress upon pure specter testimony than it will bear. When you are satisfied or have good plain legal evidence that the Demons which molest our poor neighbours do indeed represent such and such people to the sufferers, though this be a presumption, yet I suppose you will not reckon it a conviction that the people so represented are witches to be immediately exterminated. It is very certain that the Devils have sometimes represented the shapes of persons not only innocent but very virtuous, though I believe that the just God then ordinarily provides a way for speedy vindication of the persons thus abused. Moreover, I do suspect that persons who have too much indulged themselves in malignant, envious, malicious ebullitions of their souls may unhappily expose themselves to the Judgment of being represented by Devils, of whom they never had any vision and with whom they have much less written any covenant. I would say this: if upon the bare supposal of a poor creature’s being represented by a specter too great a progress be made by the Authority in ruining a poor neighbour so represented, it may be that a door may be thereby opened for the Devils to obtain from the Courts in the Invisible World a license to proceed unto most hideous desolations upon the repute and repose of such as have yet been kept from the great transgression. If mankind have thus far once consented unto the credit of Diabolical representations, the Door is opened! Perhaps there are wise and good men that may be ready to style hum that shall advance this caution a witch advocate, but in the winding up this caution will certainly be wished for.” #RandolphHarris 4 of 16
Reverend Mather’s third point is that although he believes that Devils have sometime afflicted men on their own initiative, without being called up by witches, in this case he thinks that witches are involved: “there is cause enough to think that it is a horrible witchcraft which hath given rise to the troubles wherewith Salem Village is at this day harassed, and he indefatigable pains that are used for the tracing this witchcraft are to be thankfully accepted and applauded among all this people of God.” Fourth, he points out that although witchcraft is a spiritual matter and therefore “very much transacted upon the stage of imagination,” its effects are “dreadfully real” and therefore criminally punishable. “Our dear neighbours are most really tormented, really murdered, and really acquainted with hidden things which are afterwards proved plainly to have been realities.” In his fifth and six section he suggests what evidence may be used for convictions. The best evidence, he says, is “a credible confession…And I say a credible confession because even confession itself is sometimes not credible.” He was confident Mr. Richards’ ability to judge such matters: “a person of a sagacity many times thirty furlongs less than yours will easily perceive what confession may be credible and what may be the result of only a delirious brain or a discontented heart.” In obtaining confessions he was “far from urging the un-English method of torture,” but he thought that “cross and swift questions” might be used, along with anything else that “hath a tendency to put the witches into confusion” and this might bring them to confession. If the suspect had made threats or boasts which seemed to require occult power and which came true, this was valid evidence. So were such concrete matters as “puppets” (for image magic) and witch marks on the body. #RandolphHarris 5 of 16
Reverend Mather had never seen a witch mark on anyone, but he thought a surgeon ought to be able to tell if a bodily excrescence were magical. Finally, he was willing to countenance as experiments (but not as full evidence) some witch-finding techniques which themselves partook of the occult: setting a suspect to repeating the Lord’s Prayer; trying to wound a witch through striking her specter; putting the suspect to the water ordeal. Seventh, and finally, he recommended clemency for “come of the lesser criminals.” If such persons were not executed but “only scoured with lesser punishments, and also put upon some solemn, open, public, and explicit renunciation of the Devil” he thought it might discourage the Devils from afflicting those neighbourhoods in which they had been publicly renounced. Reverend Mather’s letter was written within the context of the Puritan method for arriving at the truth, and it can be fully understood only within that context. In dealing with the American Puritans we must remember always that they had rejected the formidable hierarchies of the Medieval and Renaissance church and state, with all their authority of tradition and inherited position. They had replaced these hierarchies with bodies of ministers and magistrates which, if they were not fully democratic in the twentieth-century sense of the word, were nevertheless elected. The clergyman was called to his position by the members of the church; the magistrate was elected by his constituency. Furthermore, the church had no central administration; every congregation was a law unto itself. The state did have a central administration—a governor and lieutenant-governor and their council—but this administration had nothing even faintly resembling the authority of a royal government. #RandolphHarris 6 of 16
My brother, the clergyman, looked over my shoulder before I was aware of him, and discovered that the volume which completely absorbed my attention was a collection of famous Trials, published in a new edition and in a popular form. He laid his finger on the Trial which I happened to be reading at the moment. I looked up at him; his face startled me. He had turned pale. His eyes were fixed on the open page of the book with an expression which puzzled and alarmed me. “My dear fellow,” I said, “what in the World is the matter with you?” He answered in an odd absent manner, still keeping his finger on the open page. “I had almost forgotten,” he said. “And this reminds me.” “Reminds you of what?” I asked. “You do not mean to say you know anything about the Trial?” “I know this,” he said. “The prisoner was guilty.” “Guilty?” I repeated. “Why, the man was acquitted by the jury, with full approval of the judge! What can you possibly mean?” “There are circumstances connected with that Trial,” my brother answered, “which were never communicated to the judge or the jury—which were never so much as hinted or whispered in court. I know them—of my own knowledge, by my own personal experience. They are very sad, very strange, very terrible. I have mentioned them to no mortal creature. I have done my best to forget them. You—quite innocently—have brought them back to my mind. They oppress, they distress me. I wish I had found you reading any book in your library, except that book!” Some people were opposed to prosecuting in any witchcraft case, on the grounds that witchcraft was a spiritual mater, a sin rather than a crime, and thus outside the domain of criminal law. However, the laws of every civilized nation provided the death penalty for witchcraft, and so did the Bible (Exodus xxii, 18: “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live”). #RandolphHarris 7 of 16
Another opinion Reverend Mather deals with is that the troubles at Salem were caused by Devils, but not by witches. That is, the idea had already been advanced that the afflicted girls were possessed—infested by Demons—but not bewitched; that the Devils had acted on their own initiative rather than that of witches. This is the idea that was eventually adopted by virtually all of Massachusetts to explain the events at Salem, once it was recognized that most of those executed had been innocent. The basic question, as the seventeenth century understood it, was whether God would permit the Devil to assume the shape of an innocent person. Most authorities, and especially most Protestant authorities, believed that He would, and thus held, like Hamlet, that “the Devil hath power/ to assume a pleasing shape. However, Mr. Richards would not be capable of clearing anybody if he was going to accept the appearance of a person’s specter as conclusive proof of guilt. If such infernal testimony were accepted, nobody could be safe from accusation. Reverend Mather put in forcefully enough. “If mankind have thus far once consented unto the credit of Diabolical representations, the Door is opened!” However, Reverend Mather knew there were people at Salem so committed to the validity of spectral evidence that they were willing to call anyone who challenged it, including himself, a “witch advocate.” All he could do was warn such people that when matters were finished “this caution will certainly be wished for.” And in this he could not possibly have been more right. #RandolphHarris 8 of 16
Do you believe that the spirits of the dead can return to Earth, and show themselves to the living? Promise me this, that you will keep what I tell you a secret as long as I live. After my death I care little what happens. Let the story of my strange experience be added to the published experience of those other men who have seen what I have seen, and who believe what I believe. The World will not be the worse, and may be the better, for knowing one day what I am now about to trust to your ear alone. On a fine summer evening, many years since, I left my chambers in the Temple to meet a fellow-student, who had proposed to me a night’s amusement in the Winchester estate. I had taken my degree at Oxford. I had sadly disappointed my father by choosing the Law as my profession, in preference to the Church. At that time, to own the truth, I had no serious intention of following any special vocation. I simply wanted an excuse for enjoying the pleasures of an American life. The study of Law supplied me with that excuse. And I chose the Law as my profession accordingly. On reaching the place at which we had arranged to meet, I found that my friend had not kept his appointment. After waiting vainly for ten minutes, my patience gave way, and I went into the gardens by myself. I took two or three turns round the mansion, without discovering my fellow-student, and without seeing any other person with whom I happened to be acquainted at that time. For some reason which I cannot now remember, I was not in my usual good spirits that evening. #RandolphHarris 9 of 16
I saw a woman in the gardens, she was quiet. She invited me into the estate. Her face was saddened; her eyes were dropped to the ground, I begged her pardon. She rose to leave me. I was determined to not part with her in that way. I begged to be allowed to see the Winchester mansion. She hesitated. Then she took my arm. We went away together. A walk of half an hour brought us to the Winchester mansion, the estate was quite large. We went through the beautiful jeweled doors and took an elevator to the 4th floor. She said Mrs. Winchester had been waiting to meet me. She had been suffering from an affection of the throat; and she had a white silk handkerchief tied loosely round her neck. She wore a simple dress of black merino, with a black-silk apron over it. Her face was deadly pale; her fingers felt icily cold as they closed around my hand. “Promise me one thing,” I said, “before I go. While I live, I am your friend—if I am nothing more. If you are ever in trouble, promise me that you will let me know it.” She started, and drew back from me as if I had struck her with a sudden terror. “Strange!” she said, speaking to herself. “He feels as I feel. He is afraid of what may happen to me, in my life to come.” I attempted to reassure Mrs. Winchester. I tried to tell her what was indeed the truth—that I had only been thinking of the ordinary chances and chances of life, when I spoke. She paid no heed to me; she came back and put her hands on my shoulders, and thoughtfully and sadly looked up in my face. “My mind is not your mind in this matter,” she said. “I believe I shall die young, and die miserably. If I am right, have you interest enough still left in me to hear of it?” #RandolphHarris 10 of 16
She paused, for a moment, shuddering—and added these startling words: “You shall hear of it.” The tone of steady conviction in which she spoke alarmed and distressed me. My face showed her how deeply and how painfully I was affected. “There, there!” she said, returning to her natural manner; “don’t take what I say too seriously. A poor girl who has led a lonely life like mine thinks strangle and talks strangely—sometimes. Yes; I give you my promise. If I am ever in trouble, I will let you know it. God bless you—you have been very kind to me—goodbye!” A tear dropped on my face as she kissed me. The door closed between us. The dark gardens received me. It was raining heavily. I looked up at her window, through the drifting shower. The curtains were parted; she was standing in the gap, dimly lot by the lamp on the table behind her, waiting for our last look at each other. Slowly lifting her hand, she waved her farewell at the window, with the unsought native grace which had charmed me on the night when we first met. The curtains fell again—she disappeared—nothing was before me, nothing was round me, but the darkness and the night. In two years from that time, I had returned to the Church. My relatives exerted themselves; and my good fortune still befriended me. I was offered an opportunity of preaching in a church, made famous by the eloquence of one of the popular pulpit-orators of our time. In accepting the proposal, I felt naturally anxious to do my best, before the unusually large and unusually intelligence congregation which would be assembled to hear me. At the period of which I am now speaking, the Santa Clara Valley had been startled by the discovery of a terrible crime, perpetrated under circumstances of extreme provocation. #RandolphHarris 11 of 16
I chose this crime as the main subject for my sermon. Admitting that the best among us were frail mortal creatures subject to evil promptings and provocations like the worst among us, my object was to show how a Christian man may find his refuge from temptation in the safeguards of his religion. I dwelt minutely on the hardship of the Christian’s first struggle to resist the evil influence—on the help which one’s Christianity inexhaustibly held out o one in the worst relapses of the weaker and viler part of one’s nature—on the steady and certain gain which was the ultimate reward of one’s faith and one’s firmness—and on the blessed sense of peace and happiness which accompanied the final triumph. Preaching to this effect, with the fervent conviction which I really felt, I may say for myself, at least, that I did no discredit to the choice which had placed me in the pulpit. I held the attention of my congregation, from the first word to the last. On the conclusion of my sermon, my soul was literally shaken. Ordering my horse to be saddled, I rode instantly to the Winchester mansion. When I arrived, my mind was blank. I had no thoughts. I had no tears. The butler, Amon, greeted me. I guessed him to be some two or three years younger than myself. He was undeniably handsome; his manners of a gentleman—and yet, without knowing why, I felt a strong dislike to him the moment he opened the door. While waiting in the parlor, little by little, I became conscious of a chilly sensation slowly creeping through and through me to the bones. The warm balmy air of a summer night was abroad. It was the month of August. In the month of August, was it possibly that any living creature (in good health) could feel cold? It was not possible—and yet, the chilly sensation still crept through and through me to the bones. I looked up. I looked all round me. #RandolphHarris 12 of 16
I looked around me again. Yes: I saw it. With my own eyes I saw it. A pillar of white mist—between five and six feet high, as well as I could judge—was moving beside me on my left hand. The white colour of it was the white colour of the fog which one might see over the ocean. And the chill which had then crept through me to the cones was that chill that was creeping through me now. I was awed rather than frightened. There was one moment, and one only, when the fear came to me that my reason might be shaken. The doctrine that the Devil could appear in any shape did come to mind. The slow utterance of these words, repeated over and over again: “Mrs. Winchester is dead. Mrs. Winchester is dead.” But my will was still my own: I was able to control myself, to impose silence on my own muttering lips. And I walked through the mansion. And the pillar of mist went quietly with me. I sat down on the stairs looking at the pillar of mist, hovering opposite to me. It lengthened slowly, until it reached to the ceiling. As it lengthened, it grew bright and luminous. A time passed, and a shadowy appearance showed itself in the center of the light. Little by little, the shadowy appearance took the outline of human form. Soft brown eyes, tender and melancholy, looked at me through the unearthly light in the mist. The dead and the rest of the face boke next slowly on my view. Then the figure gradually revealed itself, moment by moment, downward and downward to the feet. She stood before me as I had last seen her, in her black-merino dress, with the black-silk apron, with white handkerchief tied loosely round her neck. She stood before me, in the gentle beauty that I remembered so well; and looked at me as she had looked when she gave me her last kiss on the cheek—when her tears had dropped on my hand. #RandolphHarris 13 of 16
I fell on my knees at the table. I stretched out my hands to her imploringly. I said, “Speak to me—O, once again speak to me, Sarah.” Her eyes rested on me with a divine compassion in them. She lifted her hand, and pointed to the photograph on the desk. It was the butler. I looked up at her again. She lifted her hand once more, and pointed to the handkerchief round her neck. As I looked at it, the fair white silk changed horribly in colour—the fair white silk became darkened and drenched in blood. A moment more—and the vision of her began to grow dim. By slow degrees, the figure, then the face, faded back into the shadowy appearance that I have first seen. The luminous inner light died out in the white mist. The mist itself dropped slowly downwards—floated a moment in airy circles on the floor—vanished. Nothing was before me but the familiar Lincrusta wallpaper, and the photograph lying face downwards on the desk. I went home. The next day, the newspapers reported the discovery of a murder in the Winchester mansion. Mrs. Winchester was the victim. She had been killed by a wound in the throat. The crime had been discovered between ten and eleven o’clock on the previous night. There is conclusive proof that the butler had been trafficking with the Devil. If spectral evidence was convincing to the magistrates, the ministers, and the people at large, it was a nightmare to the suspects. A violent quarrel took place between them. Lastly, that man, variously described by different witnesses, was seen leaving the door of her mansion on the night of the murder. The Law—advancing no further than this—may have discovered circumstances of suspicion, but no certainty. The Law, in default of direct evidence to convict the prisoner, may have rightly decided in letting him go free. #RandolphHarris 14 of 16
However, the Winchester Repeating Arms Company issued a statement redacting the news report which was later destroyed: “Protecting Mrs. Winchester’s legacy is, and always will be, our focus. For decades, we have battled behind the scenes, enduring shadowy tactics of deception with unauthorized statements and projects created to tarnish. We have always been betwixted as to why there is such a tenacity in causing more pain alongside what we already have to cope with for the rest of our lives. Now, this unscrupulous endeavor to release a statement without official proof or full accounting to the estate compels our hearts to express a word—forgiveness. Although we will continue to defend ourselves and her legacy lawfully and justly, we want to preempt the inevitable attacks on our company by all the individuals who have emerged from the shadows to leech off of Mrs. Winchester’s life’s work. Ultimately, we desire closure and a modicum of peace so we can facilitate the growth of the Winchester Estate and other creative projects that embody Mrs. Winchester’s true essence, which is to inspire and get people to think critically. We welcome and accept people of all creeds, races and cultures in the Universe and beyond.” The official statement reported that Mrs. Winchester passed away peacefully in her sleep on September 5, 1922, and work on the still uncompleted house stopped. I leave you to draw your own conclusions, but just days before I saw her, she looked no older than 22 years old. My own faith in the reality of the apparition is immovable. I say, and believe Mrs. Winchester is immortal, which would explain a lot. Take up the Trial again, and look at the circumstances that were revealed during the investigation in the court. I persist in believing that the man was guilty. I declare that, he and he alone did it. And now, you know why. #RandolphHarris 15 of 16
O thou wicket spirit Amon that obeyeth not, because I made a law and invoked the names of the glorious and ineffable God of Truth, the creator of all, and thou obeyest not the might sounds that I make: therefore I curse thee in the depth of Abandon to remain until the day of judgment in torment in fire and in sulphur without end, until thou appear before our will and obey my power. Come, therefore, in the 24th of a moment, before the circle in the triangle in this name and by this name of God, Adni, Great Spirit, give us hearts to understand; never to take from creation’s beauty more than we give; never to destroy wantonly for the furtherance of greed; never to deny to give our hands for the building of Earth’s beauty; never to take from her what we cannot use. Give us hearts to understand that to destroy Earth’s music is to create confusion; that to wreck her appearance is to build us to beauty; that to callously pollute her fragrance is to make a house of stench; that as we care for her she will care for us. Tzabaoth, Adonai, Amioran. Come! Come! for it is the Lord of Lords Adni, that stirreth thee up. I stir thee up, O thou fire, in him who is thy Creator and of all creatures. Torment, burn, destroy the spirit Amon always whose end cannot be, I judge thee in judgment and in extreme justice, O spirit Amon, because thou art he that obeyeth not my power and obeyth not that law which the Lord God made, and obeyeth not the Mighty Sounds and the Living Breath which I invoke, which I send: Come forth, I, who am the Servant of the Same Most High governor Lord God powerful, Iehovohe, I who am exalted in power and am might in his power above ye, O thou who comest not giving obedience and faith to him that liveth and trirumpheth. Therefore I say the judgment: I curse thee and destroy the name Amon and the seal Amon, which I have placed in this dwelling of poison, and I burn thee in fire whose end cannot be; and I cast thee down unto the seas of torment, out of which thou shalt not rise until thou come to me eyes: visit me in peace: be friendly before the circle in the triangle in the 24th of a moment in the likeness of a man not unto the terror of the sons of men the creatures or all things on the face of the Earth. Obey my power like reasoning creatures; obey the living breath, the laws which speak. #RandolphHarris 16 of 16
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Whatever Will be Will be. I’m Not Responsible?
In the darkest of hour, in the greatest of battles, we must never forget who or what we are. Most behavior is learned. Imagine if you suddenly lost all you had ever learned. What could you do? You would be unable to read, write, or speak. You could not feed yourself, find your way home, drive a car, play the bassoon, or “party.” Needless to say, you would be totally incapacitated. (Dull, too!) Learning is obviously important. What is a formal definition of learned? Learning is a relatively permanent change in behavior due to experience. Notice that this definition excludes temporary changes caused by motivation, fatigue, maturation, disease, injury, or drugs. Each of these can alter behavior, but none qualifies as learning. Is not learning the result of practice? It depends on what you mean by practice. Merely repeating a response will not necessarily produce learning. You could close your eyes and swing a tennis racket hundreds of times without learning anything about tennis. Reinforcement is the key to learning. Reinforcement refers to any event that increases the probability that a response will occur again. A response is any identifiable behavior. Responses may be observable actions, such as blinking, eating a piece of candy, or turning a doorknob. They can also be internal, such as having a faster heartbeat. Unlocking the secrets of learning begins with noting what happens before and after a response. Events that follow a response are consequences. Paying careful attention to the “before and after” of learning is a key to understanding it. #RandolphHarris 1 of 18
O God, give us grace to accept with serenity the things that cannot be changed, courage to change the things which should be changed, and the wisdom to distinguish the one from the other. An affirmative answer to this great prayer begins with the wisdom to distinguish what we cannot change from what we can. Such wisdom is not rapidly accumulating, providing us with a clearer understanding today than ever before regarding which aspects of our behaviour are easily altered and which not. In some respects, we seem to be less changeable, by force of will, than has been supposed. Take body weight. It has long been presumed that obesity results from gluttony, from a failure of the will, or from a personality problem such as repressed guilt or hostility. If, indeed, being overweight stems from gluttony, then losing weight should require no more than self-discipline and a trustworthy guidebook. Believing this, would-be dieters annually spend more than $72 billion on diet and fitness guides and fat remedies. However, the physiologist and biopsychologists who study hunger and obesity tell us of bodily mechanisms that make permanent weight loss frustratingly difficult. Genetic influences on slimness or obesity are revealed by twin studies (identical twins are far more similar in body type than fraternal twins) and by a tendency for adopted children to resemble their biological parents more than their adoptive parents and siblings. Moreover, our body fights to maintain its “set point” weight, much as a thermostat maintains room temperature at a set point. When a person diets, and body weight begins to drop, the person’s metabolic idling speed deceases, too, enabling the body to maintain itself on fewer calories. #RandolphHarris 2 of 18
If the diet continues, the body’s 30 billion or so miniature fuel tanks—its fat cells—may empty, but they refuse to die. Instead, they cry out, “Feed me!” by initiating biochemical processes that trigger hunger and make the dieter more responsive to external food cues and more vulnerable to eating binges. Although it may frustrate those who weigh more than they would like, the whole system is designed to store up energy in us in times of abundance that will see us through times of famine. It does so with an astonishing precision that far exceeds anything you or I could achieve by conscious calorie counting. If your weight is within a pound of what it was a year ago, you have kept your average daily energy intake and output within ten calories a day of one another. Keep everything the same and add a single carrot a day in ten years you will have gained thirty pounds. This remarkable energy-control system is yet another of the wonders concealed within the most ordinary aspects of life. In ways the psalmist could not have known, we are indeed “wonderfully made.” It therefore comes as no surprise to those who understand the bodily forces that fight to maintain weight that those who have lost significant amounts of weight on diet programs nearly always, eventually, gain it back. (Most diet-programs entrepreneurs will deny this, but the research findings are clear.) Knowing all this can perhaps help those who are constitutionally on the chubby (or skinny) side to gain the serenity to accept what cannot be changed. Better to be a little plump than to diet and binge, be obsessed with food, and live with the guilt of repeated failure. #RandolphHarris 3 of 18
Much the same point can now be made for other human traits. The behaviour geneticist Robert Plomin reports that studies of some forty-five hundred twin pairs, of more than four thousand individuals in adoptive relationship, and of some twenty-five thousand family relatives have indicated that genetic influences account for roughly half of the variations in IQ scores. Some of the remaining variation is attributable to our enriched or impoverished early experiences, which we have no power to reverse. Although intelligence is not so fixed as one’s height, neither is it something that we can freely choose and freely change. Temperament (whether one is generally excitable, intense, and reactive or easygoing, quiet, and placid) appears to be another trait that we receive rather than choose. From the first weeks of life, some human babies and some infant monkeys are more replaced and less fearful and irritable tan others. By selectively breeding, one can, within a couple of dozen generations, produce one set of fierce mice and one set of placid mice. Studies of humans reveal that during adulthood, at least, one’s emotional style tends to remain fairly stable. People may mellow a bit with age, but the hot-tempered young adult will usually still be recognizable as the relatively fiery golden-ager. That being the case, we perhaps had best find the serenity to accept and wisely manage our temperament—and the temperaments of those around us. Better to accept what cannot be changed than always to think, “Why do I not (or you) choose to react differently in such situations?” #RandolphHarris 4 of 18
Consider, finally, one’s sexual orientation. The wonder here is that after decades of research, scholars still debate why some 97 percent of males and 1 to 2 percent of females are enduringly attracted to their own gender. Accumulating evidence points to brain differences and prenatal hormonal influences that may help explain sexual orientation. Studies have also fairly consistently found that homosexual and heterosexual men vary in ways that would seem not likely influenced by upbringing or choice, including spatial abilities (mentally rotating images), the number of older brothers (homosexual men tend to have more), and physical size (homosexual men tend to weigh less). Such evidence has persuaded some Christian psychologists that sexual orientation (most clearly men’s sexual orientation) is biologically influenced. However, not all are persuaded. In Homosexuality: The Use of Scientific Research in the Church’s Moral Debate, the psychologists Stanton Jones and Mark Yarhouse note, for example, that brain differences might me the result rather than the cause of sexual behaviour patterns. Experience does leave its marks upon the brain. And experience shapes sexual orientation, perhaps experience—assisted by “reparative therapy,” “healing ministries,” or “ex-gay” support groups, can enable at least some people to change their sexual orientation. Other evidence suggests that efforts to change one’s sexual orientation usually (some say always) fail. Heterosexuals who have experimented with homosexual behaviour, or homosexual who have experimented with heterosexual behaviour, can turn away from such. And people of either sexual orientation can be or become celibate. Other homosexuals will marry against their sexual desires and have children. #RandolphHarris 5 of 18
Writing in Christian Today, one such married gay man reported that with prayer, counseling, and great effort he was able to “control the behavioural manifestations of my sexual orientation” and have a “fulfilling heterosexual life” even while struggling with his continuing attractions to other men and his “recurring bouts of almost suicidal depression.” Christian ex-gay organizations such as Exodus, an umbrella organization for Christian ex-gay ministries, have had a go at this. (Such ministries also have offered support to those seeking to leave the gay culture.) However, more than a dozen such organizations have, after touting successes, been abandoned by their own founders, who are now ex-ex-gays. In Britain, the formerly ex-gay Courage Trust organization is no longer attempting sexual reorientation. Its leader, Jeremy Marks, now says his organization “not only failed to preserve the moral purity of gay people (or the church) but, on the contrary, has proved to have an extremely destructive effect on the lives of many gay people. Worse still, such a line has had an extremely corrosive effect on their faith in God. The gay ministry literature illustrates the homosexual temptations that many “ex-gays” struggle with. “God does not replace one form of lust with another,” explained Bob Davies and Lori Rentzel in Coming Out of Homosexuality. Ex-gays commonly struggle with homosexual attraction and typically “do not experience sexual arousal solely by looking at their wife’s body.” Ex-ex-gays who “abandon their previously-held view that homosexual behaviour is a sin…go with their feelings, rather than submit to the author of this Scriptures,” Davies explained. #RandolphHarris 6 of 18
Accepting the limits on our capacity to change can be liberating. To face up to the fact that we will never be thin, an A student, placidly imperturbable, heterosexual—or any of a myriad of other things we might like to be—can be a relief. It frees us from daily living with guilt and self-blame about not having accomplished whatever it is that we keep thinking we will do. To make peace with myself is to be able to say that grace extends to me, just as I am. Just as I am whether I am disposed to be slim or chubby, whether my grades are high or low, whether my temperament is reactive or placid, whether my longings are for those of the same or the other gender. However, is there not a danger is we say more? Might not self-acceptance of things that cannot be changed degenerate into a helpless fatalism regarding what can be changed—into an attitude that says, “Whatever will be, will be. I am not responsible”? In What You Can Change…and What You Can’t, the eminent psychologist Martin Seligman offers additional “facts about what you can change: Panic can be easily unlearned, but cannot be cured by medication. The sexual dysfunction-frigidity, impotence, premature ejaculation—are easily unlearned. Our moods, which can wreak havoc with our physical health, are readily controlled. Depression can be cured by straightforward changes in conscious thinking or helped by medication, but it cannot be cured by insight into childhood. Optimism is a learned skilled. Once learned, it increases achievement at work and improves physical health. #RandolphHarris 7 of 18
Conduct involving pleasures of the flesh, temperament-related behaviours, academic achievement, and body fitness are also, to some extent, things we can change. If one’s sexual orientation is neither willfully chosen nor easily changed, there are still ethical choices. Whether heterosexual or homosexual, one can choose to engage in impulsive pleasures of the flesh, to elect celibacy, or to enter a committed, loving, long-term relationship. Sexual orientation does not dictate the choice, nor is it an excuse for unhealthy or exploitative acts. Impatient, coronary-prone “type A” people may not be able to change their temperament, yet they, too, retain some freedom to change their behaviour. They can slow down and relax—by walking, talking, eating more slowly, smiling, and laughing more, admitting their mistakes, taking more time to enjoy life, and renewing their religious faith. Meyer Friedman and his colleagues report that when one group of San Francisco heart-attack survivors did so they became half as likely to experience another heart attack (compared with those who received only standard advice concerning medication, diet, and exercise). Our aptitude may be pretty much a given, but what we do with it surely is not. Achievement is a product of aptitude and motivation, inspiration and perspiration. Part of the perspiration is the disciplined effort to develop one’s powers of reasoning. “The biggest truth of all” about education, noted the commentator Norman Cousins, is that “its purpose is to unlock the human mind and develop into an organ capable of thought—conceptual thought, analytical thoughts, sequential thought.” The effort we devote to our education—during college and after—is under our control. #RandolphHarris 8 of 18
Even our weight is not entirely beyond out control. Genes and physiology play a more significant role than previously supposed, but diet and exercise are significant, too. Why else is obesity so much more common among lower-class than upper-class persons, among Americans than Japanese and Europeans, and among Americans in 2021 than in 1800 (or even 1980)? Although graduates of weight-loss programs generally fail to sustain their losses, those who gravitate to such programs may be a biased sample or overweight people—namely, those who have greater-than-average difficulty maintaining weight loss. Surveys of people not in weight-loss programs indicate that there are many people who, though once overweight, have managed on their own to lose the extra pounds and keep them off. If our bodies are the “temple of he Holy Spirit” and if, as a National Institutes of Health panel concluded, health risk increase with obesity, then our prayer must indeed be to fund courage to change what can be changed—by minimizing exposure to tempting food cues, by at least a modest, sustainable adjustment in diet, and by a sustained program of daily exercise. Accepting ourselves means the serenity to accept bodily dispositions that cannot be changed, but loving ourselves means also being good to our bodies. For, truly, whatsoever we do unto our bodies we do unto ourselves. O God, please gives us grace to accept with serenity the things that cannot be changed, courage to change the things which should be changed, and wisdom to distinguish the one from the other. The individual that is to survive psychologically is born into an empathic-responsive human milieu just as it is born into an atmosphere that contains an optimal amount of oxygen. And its nascent self “expects” an empathic environment to be in tune with its need-wishes, with the same unquestioning certitude as its lungs may be said to “expect” oxygen. #RandolphHarris 9 of 18
We have to have had some experience of security, acceptability, and well-being before we can even make a start on growing up into independent centers of imitative and perception. Presumably we, who have survived, all have some memory-traces of this good state, which would normally give us the strength to accept life as it comes. They are sources of strength. If we are cut off from them, we need to go back to recover and integrate them. What about people whose early experiences of themselves-in-the-World included an amount of badness, emptiness, and uselessness that overwhelmed the newly emerging self? Their sense of futility and powerlessness derives from the fact that they are cut off from that part of their being where our bodily needs and satisfaction were first experienced: this had become a split-off hurt and needy region, part of the “something lost” that must be recovered if a sense of wholeness is ever to be achieved. Such recoveries sometimes come about when people work with a therapist who, by one’s own behaviour, provides a context which resembles the empathic selfobject one-person level where there is unconditional permission to exist and be. However, the process is not well understood, and is a present a lengthy and chancy one. It does appear that some of us need to re-integrate the memory-races of whatever happiness and well-being we may at one time have had, as well as the misery we could not at that time accept. These must be recalled and revived—if possible in words, no in action—and reflected upon, for we need to discover that both good and bad memories can be lived with once we are strong enough to do so. #RandolphHarris 10 of 18
Therapeutic regression allows this revival (which may or may not be acceptable elsewhere) to be confined to the consulting room. However, some people are very tightly organized against any such relaxation, perhaps for fear of falling apart, perhaps for fear of threatening the present supremacy of their (“Central Ego”) ego-functions. They can only do what they were drive to as children, and struggle against the temptation to relax, by developing a hard and hostile attitude to any “weakness” in themselves, id est, to develop an anti-libidinal ego which is really the child’s determined effort to keep going by being independent. The “anti-libidinal ego” is the child’s premature attempt at being organized and strong, at “pulling itself together” as the phrase goes. Unfortunately, it succeeds only in pulling itself further apart. The anti-libidinal forces hinder the growth of a more relaxed and resilient kind of strength, with rots in a natural sense of well-being. Trying to relax this tight organization is a very painful process, which requires much courage. Anything a psychotherapist can do, to help people discover and hold on to, because the anti-libidinal forces will destroy a person’s awareness of good things. (It is presumptuous of be to believe that I do anything well, or to be happy when things go well for the moment.) Usually, it is a very long time before the patient can consistently accept and bring to the analyst the regressed, passively dependent ego. The analysis of anti-libidinal reactions, against not only active but passive needs, constitutes, I believe, the most important part of “analyzing.” I have seen real improvement appear and be retained when what is called therapeutic regression at last comes to be understood and accepted. #RandolphHarris 11 of 18
I have found encouraging results with several patients who, each in one’s own way, have been able to find security for their regressed ego in the psychotherapeutic relationship. There appear to be two aspects of the problem. The first is the slow growth out of their anti-libidinal (Freudian sadistic super-ego) persecution of themselves; they need to unlearn their ruthless driving of themselves by ceaseless inner mental pressure to keep going as “forced pseudo-adults,” and to acquire the courage to adopt a more understanding attitude toward the hidden hard-pressed and frightened child. Simultaneously with this there goes a second process, the growth of a constructive faith that if the needs of the regressed ego are met, first in relation to the therapist who protects it in its need for an initial passive dependence, this will mean not collapse and loss of active powers, but a steady recuperation from deep strain, diminishing of deep fears, revitalizing of the personality, and rebirth of an active ego that is spontaneous and does not have to be forced and driven; what is called “primitive passive dependence” making possible “the new beginning.” We are here considering people under such stress that they are in danger of being split apart by their own anti-libidinal forces. Their present psychological structures needs to some extent to be re-organized, because it is not viable in the long run anyway, and because it is at present preventing the development of a natural flow of strength and well-being. (This is another description of the phenomenon called the regressed ego.) Yet people in this plight know that any change in their present state of equilibrium is liable to disturb the balance of forces which hold them together. #RandolphHarris 12 of 18
If there is ever to be a change, it can take place only in a very safe environment which can give them some hope that hey may be held together somehow. This puts a heavy responsibility on those who seek to help them. The normal common-sense procedures of parents and friends, may not be appropriate in these circumstances. How can the need of the exhausted regressed ego, for recuperation in and rebirth from a reproduction of the wombstate, be met at all, and how can it be met without the risk of undermining the central ego of everyday living? That seems to be the ultimate problem for psychotherapy. There is evidence that it can be done, although we have almost everything to learn about this process. At least it is safe to say that it cannot be done without this assistance of a psychotherapist, id est, the setting up of a psychotherapeutic relationship…the final aim of this therapy is to convert regression into rebirth and regrowth. This must result from the regressed ego finding for the first time a relationship of understanding acceptance and safeguarding of its rights, with a therapist who does not seek to force on the patient a preconceived view of what must be done, but who realizes that deep down patients know their own business best, if we can but understand the language. For, now, the rebirth and regrowth of the lost living heart of the personality is the ultimate problem psychotherapy seeks to solve. The mere removal of pain, healing of lesions, elimination of tumors, or restoration of functions without any physical agent being used in the cure is itself really a miracle. However, such an achievement started and completely finished within only a few hours or a few minutes is even more miraculous. It compels us to redefine the word “miracle.” #RandolphHarris 13 of 18
No longer should we regard the meaning of a miracle as meaning as a suspension of the natural law, a deliberate intervention by God to thwart His own creation, but rather as a natural fact arising out of still unknown laws. Because I foresee that many more years of continued research are needed before I shall have any conclusions of permanent value to offer, I venter to set down here only the most elementary of my findings. Even these would have been held back for some years were it no that the pressure of our times gives them an importance and urgency. If only a few sufferers have left the healers’ presence restored to health, this should still render it an imperative duty to find out what little we can about how or why the healing happened. We are still in the process of putting together into a single inclusive pattern of Healing and Truth the oddly assorted pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. And it is only the beginning of this process! Out of this World suffering, you may learn the greater lessons which many try hopelessly to evade. Life on Earth is not intended to be an eternal bed of roses, not a war of roses; it will forever be a mixture of pleasure and pain; the wheel of fate will forever keep turning up now one and then the other. True healing is primarily he healing of spiritual ignorance, never the gaining of prosperity, and only occasionally the getting of good health. It is to win an unbreakable peace and a perfect knowledge which neither death nor humans can steal or impair. Are we to follow the example of some holy humans, both in medieval Europe and in the Old World, who equate the acceptance of illness with the will of God? Are we to cherish our diseases in resignation to God rather than trying to cure them by spiritual means? Is such pious fatalism better than turning to spiritual healing? #RandolphHarris 14 of 18
To the extent that Christian Science instruction will make clearer to one’s mind and fix more deeply within it those several great truths which Christian Science shares in common with philosophy, one will benefit by it. However, to the extent that one absorbs, along with them, those errors, fallacies, and confusions which are also part of Christian Science, one will not. Therefore, in its study one should keep vigilance close to one and not throw away one’s right to use critical judgment. One fallacy is not to see that physical means may also be used by God to cure, even if it be granted that they are indirect as well as on a lower plane. They need not be rejected but merely valued for the inferior things they are. However, they have their place. Another fallacy is not to see that mental means may also be used. Psychology, change of thought, is also inferior and indirect, but still has a useful place and positive value. Healing can be done without entering kingdom. They are achieved by the power of concentration. This leaves the ego still there. The cure is wrought then by an occult, not a spiritual, power. It is personal to the practitioner, not impersonal. Every individual practitioner who makes progress will come to the point where either one’s power lapses or one’s understanding outgrows the imposed dogmas. If one accepts this opportunity or passes this test, one may come closer to God. The Christian Scientist adherent needs o purify one’s motive. One’s need of better health or more money may be satisfied in the proper way but must be kept in the proper place. #RandolphHarris 15 of 18
One should not seek to exploit higher powers for lower ends. One should carefully study the meaning of Jesus’ words: “Seek ye first the Kingdom of Heaven and all these things shall be added unto you.” The body has its own laws of well-being. The one who persistently infringes the but relies on the protective shelter of spiritual healing “demonstration” to take care of one’s infringements is following a risky, unreasonable, and uncertain course. All observation, experience, biography, and philosophy unite to warn him that the chances of succeeding are less than those of failing. Only after one has extracted and applied its lesson may one turn one’s back on experience and deny its reality. Only after one has learned what law of physical, emotional, or mental hygiene one has violated, and corrected the transgression, may one declare one’s sickness an illusion of he senses and an error of the mind. Any other course is self-deceiving. The New Thought mental healing cults do not understand the difference between those occult powers (healing is one of them) performed by the ego deliberately and those occult powers performed through the ego spontaneously at the Overself’s bidding. The first kind are on an inferior level and keep the practitioner still enchained within egoism. However, of course, by contrast to the orthodox church teaching, this New Thought teaching is certainly broader. No unqualified person—hat is, no unintegrated and unpurified person—has the right to audit another. Here is the error of Dianetics: it explains the disappointment of some disciples and the disillusionment of others. The danger to those who seek such healing is one of falling into the materialism which exalts the body at the expense of the soul. The danger to those who practise it is one of falling into vanity, feeling more important or more powerful than others. The group of powers manifesting themselves in the phenomena which have been variously named—according to the theoretical interpretation given them by various cults—as spirit healing, Christian Science, mesmeric healing, hypnotic treatment, and suggestive therapeutic, may, with one group of exceptions, conveniently be classified under the heading of “mental healing.” These exceptions occur through the unconscious stimulation of physical vital force (prana) and usually lead to cures which are such in name only for they do no last long and are followed by a relapse into illness. #RandolphHarris 16 of 18
With the Sort Path are allied all healing techniques, like Christian Science, which affirm the actual existence of God as perfect, disease-free, and all-providing. Sometimes they really do draw on the Overself’s power but at other times they use a queer mixture of black magic, hypnotic suggestion and fallacious religion. If a mental healer should be interested in, or be a practitioner of, black magic, one is far more likely to do serious harm to one’s patients than good. It is always better to avoid meeting such people. Even the “cures” which they perform are either only temporary, or else bought at a heavily disproportionate price. House made of dawn. House made of evening light. House made of the dark cloud. House made of male rain. House made of dark mist. House made of rain. House made of pollen. House made of grasshoppers. Dark cloud is at the door. The trail out of it is dark cloud. The zigzag lightning stands high upon it. An offer I make. Please restore my feet for me. Please restore my legs for me. Please restore my body for me. Please restore my mind for me. Please restore my voice for me. This very day, please take out your spell for me. Happily I recover. Happily my interior becomes cool. Happily I go forth. My interior feeling cool, may I walk. No longer sore, may I walk. Impervious to pain, may I walk. With lively feelings may I walk. As it used to be long ago, may I walk. Happily may I walk. Happily, with abundant dark clouds, may I walk. Happily, with abundant showers, may I walk. Happily, with abundant plants, may I walk. Happily, on a trail of pollen, may I walk. Happily may I walk. Being as it used to be long ago, may I walk. #RandolphHarris 17 of 18
May it be beautiful before me. May it be beautiful behind me. May it be beautiful below me. May it be beautiful above me. May it be beautiful all around me. In beauty it is finished. In beauty it is finished. The illumination falls into the mind suddenly and I neither will it nor expect it. There is nothing of the “me” in it. That falls off my shoulders as if it were an extremely heavy and uncomfortable garment. In that great light all one’s ego’s affairs and concerns seem of small dimension; besides that ethereal beneficence all the World’s evil and madness seems like a quickly receding nightmare. This is one’s thrilling discover of the Overself’s existence, one’s first incontestable evidence of its power. No later experience can equal it in emotional feeling. It is one of the really momentous points of one’s life. It is a glimpse of Heaven, lifting the mind out of this World and liberating the heart from all that ties it down. With the Glimpse comes a trailing glory of loveliness and enchantment, and a vast freedom. This is to be “born again,” to transcend ordinary experience and become aware of a layer of being within the self which is neither sensual nor rational. Nor is it even emotional in the narrow sense except that egocentric feeling is quite definitely and quite richly present. However, it is calm, quiet, deep, detached, and elevated. With brilliant clouds He will ornament each deserving festive tent; the pure, on stools with gold inlaid, before the Lord shall be arrayed; their countenance bright, with sevenfold light, with dim the Heavenly sheen; such beauty rare none can declare, no prophet’s eyes has seen. The joy and bliss of Paradise have not been seen by human eyes; there the pure rejoice and dance in the light of His countenance; and point: “Tis He, we patiently have hoped and waited for, to set us free from captivity and guide us as of yore.” #RandolphHarris 18 of 18
CRESLEIGH MEADOWS AT PLUMAS RANCH
Plumas Lake, CA |
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When You Pursue Only Your Own Interests, You May be Said to Have Fallen Out of Love!
Drown me in Love, my Lord, that I may learn how smooth and swimming it is to love. Love has me in its grasp, sending me to the heights with fervor and wonder I did not know I have within me. The Lord has made known how people ought to treat one another. By searching the scriptures on this subject, we become more fully aware that we do have a responsibility to promote the happiness and well-being of our fellow humans. For example, through Moses the Lord said: “Thou shalt not avenge, nor bear any grudge against the children of thy people, but thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself,” reports Leviticus 19.18. To help us understand what is meant by this, the Lord has given some specific examples of what a person will not do to one’s neighbour if be truly loves Jesus. “Ye shall not steal, neither deal falsely neither lie one to another. Thou shalt not defraud thy neighbour, neither rob one. Thou shalt not curse the deaf, nor put a stumbling block before the blind,” reports Leviticus 19.11-14. Furthermore, the hired servant should be paid promptly for one’s work: “the wages of one that is hired shall not abide with thee all night until the morning,” reports Leviticus 19.13. “Thou shall not oppress an hired servant that is poor and needy, whether one be of thy brethren, or of thy strangers that are in thy land within thy gates: At one’s day thou shalt give one one’s hire, neither shall the sun go down upon it,” reports Deuteronomy 24.14-15. Let me follow You on high, my Beloved Lord “canting the canticle of love,” as Isaiah put it (5.1). Let my soul, beside itself with love, weary itself in Your praise! Let me love You more than myself! #RandolphHarris 1 of 20
Let me love myself because You loved me first! Let me love everyone else who truly loves You! That sounds like a lot, but it is only what the law of Love, of which You are the Chiefest Illumination, tells me I have to do. Love’s swift, sincere, pious, joyous, pleasant, brave, patient, long-suffering, virile, and selfless, as Paul wrote in his First Letter to the Corinthians (13.4-7). Love’s selfless; that is to say, when you pursue only your own interests, you may be said to have fallen out of love. Love is mindful of others, humble, honorable; not soft, not giddy, not messing around with the meaningless tasks of this World. Love is sober, chaste, not given to flights of fancy, quiet, and has all the senses under control. In tatters, like a waif or a wastrel, Love nonetheless can approach a prelate with confident step. Love is devoted and thankful to God, trusting and hoping in Him, even though it has been a long tie between consolations. That is to say, Love and Pain go hand and hand throughout life. You may think you know something about Love, but if you are not prepared to suffer for or stand by the Loved One, then you are not worthy to be called a lover. Any lover worth one’s word should freely embrace the hard and the harsh for the Loved One, and at the same time one should not allow oneself to be distracted by Contraries or Contretemps. The World’s dirt seems so remote from these moods of complete goodness as to seem non-existent, or a mere vaporous mist at most. With the glimpse a feelings overspreads one’s heart of benevolence towards all living creatures—not only animal but even plant. #RandolphHarris 2 of 20
One would not, could not knowingly harm a single one. The Christians call this love, the Buddhists compassion, the Hindus oneness. My own term is goodwill, but all are right. These are different facets, as seen from different points. In this wonderful state one becomes keenly aware of the love that is at the core of the Universe, and therefore at one’s own core too. However, one not only absorbs it, one also radiates it. It is not something to be held selfishly, like a material possession. As it is received, so it is given. There is no possibility here of feeling stagnant, mediocre, ordinary. It is their very contraries that one feels. There are exquisite moments when all existence seems elevated to a higher plane, when one’s individual being is absorbed in a harmony with all things. The feeling which comes over one at this stage is indescribably delightful. One recognizes its divine quality and rightly attributes it to a transcendental source. No vision accompanies it. Yet the certitude and reality seem greater than if one did. The common youthful experience of falling in love bears some of the leading characteristics of this uncommon mystical experience of awakening to the divine reality. However of course it bears them in a grosser and smaller way. Some of them are: a feeling of “walking on air,” a frequent recollection of beloved at unexpected moments, a glowing sense of deliverance from burdens, a cheerful attitude towards everything and everyone, intense satisfaction with life, rosy expectations about the future, expanded sympathies, dreamy absent-minded lapses from attention to the prosaic everyday round, and new appreciation of poetry, music, or Nature’s beauty. #RandolphHarris 3 of 20
There is a self which one feels within one yet is not oneself. Something unknown yet joy-giving. Some dynamic force streams through the blood in one’s veins, the feeling in one’s heart, and the will in one’s innermost being. It is no ordinary force, for one knows that never or rarely has one experienced its like before. There is magic in its movement, enchantment in its effect. The things of the World fall far away from you and a great spell will seemingly be put upon the leading mind till you remember little of name, or kin, or country, and care less. You lie in the lap of a shining mood, granted respite from heavy cares and given relaxation from corrosive thoughts. You become aware of the secret undercurrent of holy peace which flows silently beneath the heart. Although one’s general experience of it will be of its gentleness, there will be times when one will feel only an authoritative and commanding force in it, when tremendous power will manifest and rule in some episode or event. One may have a vague feeling some immaterial presence around or within oneself, a presence uplifting, ennobling, unworldly. Not only is the kingdom of Heaven within us but we are ourselves within the kingdom. We may discover this as a psychic and visual experience, as some do, or simply as a feeling-and-knowing experience that All is God. It is a transparence because one feels open, letting in a rare mood. It is also a transcendence, because one feels lifted out of one’s ordinary “I” and put down again on a higher level. Reverence for the divine presence filled my heart awe at the divine wonder permeated my mind. #RandolphHarris 4 of 20
One will feel spontaneous peace that comes from one knows not where, intellectual conviction that the right path has been found, mysterious detachment that takes hold of one during Worldly temptations and Worldly tribulation alike. When you are in this wider consciousness you are at home. Outwardly you may be without a roof to shelter your head but still you will feel protected, secure, and provided for. Your feeling and your trust are not groundless. For the outward manifestation of this inward care will follow. You will comprehend that while the Overself thus enfolds you, you can never again feel lonely, never again find the sky turned black because some human love has been denied or been withdrawn from you. It is there, in the deep center of oneself, that one finds holiness and liberation. From the physical standpoint, the ego first becomes aware of the Overself as being located in the heart. However, in higher mystical experience, this awareness is free from any bodily relationship. A feeling of lightness and freedom, songlike well-being and perfect harmony, comes with this disidentification from the body. I have felt a presence that disturbs me with the joy of elevated thoughts: a sense sublime, of something far more deeply interfused, whose dwelling is the light of setting suns. Dear soul, up to this point in our friendly chatsworth, with lots of give and take on both sides—and I hope you will not take offense—but I think I can safely say, you are not what I would call—and I want you to know that I speak only as a friend—a vigorous or prudent lover. One feels a rightness about the World-plan and a loveliness in some deeper part of oneself. It may remain for a little while only but its memory will remain for long years. In this lofty mood, bringing so much good will and insight with it, as it does, one is inclined to ignore misunderstanding and hostility from any quarter which caused one resentment or even suffering in the past. #RandolphHarris 5 of 20
Now this brings us to the oddest thing about Christianity. In a sense the view which I have just described is actually true. From a certain point of view Christ is the same sort of thing as Adonis or Osiris (always, of course, waiving the fact that they lived nobody knows where or when, while He was executed by a Roman magistrate we know in a year which can be roughly dated.) And that is just the puzzle. If Christianity is a religion of that kind why is the analogy of the seed falling into the ground so seldom mentioned (twice only if I mistake not) in the New Testament? Corn-religions are popular and respectable: if that is what the first Christian teachers were putting across, what motive could they have for concealing the fact? The impression they make is that of humans who simply do not know how close they re to the corn-religions: men who simply overlook the rich sources of relevant imagery and association which they must have been on the verge of tapping at every moment. If you say they suppressed it because they were Jewish people, that only raises the puzzle in a new form. Why should the only religion of a “dying God” which has actually survived and risen to unexampled spiritual heights occur precisely among those people to whim, and to whom almost alone, the whole circle of ideas that belong to the “dying God” was foreign? I myself, who first seriously read the New Testament when I was, imaginatively and poetically, all agog for the Death and Re-birth pattern and anxious to meet a corn-king, was chilled and puzzled by the almost total absence of such ideas in the Christian documents. #RandolphHarris 6 of 20
One moment particularly stood out. A “dying God”—the only dying God who might possibly be historical—holds bread, that is, corn, in His hand and says, “This is my body.” Surely here, even if nowhere else—or surely if not here, at least in the earliest comments on this passage and through all later devotional usage in ever swelling volume—the truth must come out; the connection between this and the annual drama of the corps must be made. However, it is not. It is there for me. There is no sign that it was there for the disciples or (humanly speaking) for Christ Himself. It is almost as if He did not realize what He had said. The records, in fact, show us a Person who enacts the part of the Dying God, but whose thoughts and words remain quite outside the circle of religious ideas to which the Dying God belongs. The very thing which the Nature-religions are all about seems to have happened once: but it happened in a circle where no trace of Nature-religions are all about seems to have really happened once: but it happened in a circle where no trace of Nature-religion was present. It is as if you met the sea-serpent and found that is disbelieved in sea-serpents: as if history recorded a human who had done all the things attributed to Sir Launcelot but who had himself never apparently heard of chivalry. There is, however, one hypothesis which, if accepted, makes everything easy and coherent. The Christians are not claiming that simply “God” was incarnate in Jesus. They are claiming that the one true God is He whom the Jewish people worshipped as Jahweh, and that is it He who has descended. Now the double character of Jahweh is this. On the one hand He is the God of Nature, her glad Creator. It is He who sends rain into the furrows till the valleys stand so thick with corn that they laugh and sing. The trees of the wood rejoice before Him and His voice causes the wild deer to bring forth their young. He is the God of what and wine and oil. In that respect He is constantly doing all the things that Nature-Gods do: He is Bacchus, Venus, Ceres all rolled into one. #RandolphHarris 7 of 20
There is no trace in Judaism of the idea found in some pessimistic and Pantheistic religions tht Nature is some kind of illusion or disaster, that finite existence is in itself an evil and that the cure lies in the relapse of all things into God. Compared with such anti-natural conceptions Jahweh might almost be mistaken for a Nature-God. On the other hand, Jahweh is clearly not a Nature-God. He does not die and come to life each year as a true Corn-king should. He may give wine and fertility, but must not be worshipped with Bacchanalian or aphrodisiac rites. He is not the soul of Nature nor of any part of Nature. He inhabits eternity: He dwells in the high and holy place: Heaven is His throne, not His vehicle, Earth His footstool, not Hs vesture. One day He will dismantle both and make a new Heaven and Earth. He is not to be identified even with the “divine spark” in humans. He is “God and not man”: His thoughts are not our thoughts: all our righteousness is filthy rags. His appearance to Ezekiel is attended with imagery that does not borrow from Nature, but (it is a mystery too seldom noticed) from those machines which humans were to make centuries after Ezekiel’s death. The prophet saw something suspiciously like a dynamo. Jahweh is neither the soul of Nature nor her enemy. She is neither His body nor a declension and falling way from Him. She is His creature. He is not a nature-God, but the God of Nature—her inventor, maker, owner, and controller. To everyone who reads this essay, the conception has been familiar from childhood; we therefore easily think it is the most ordinary conception in the World. “If people are going to believe in a God at all,” we ask, “what other kind would they believe in?” #RandolphHarris 8 of 20
We mistake our privileges for our own instincts: just as one meets ladies who believe their own refined manners to be natural to them. They do not remember being taught. Now if there is such a God and if He descends to rise again, then we can understand why Christ is at once so like the Corn-King and so silent about him. He is like the Corn-King because the Corn-King is a portrait of Him. The similarity is not in the lest unreal or accidental. For the Corn-King is derived (through human imagination) from the facts of Nature, and the facts of Nature from her Creator; the Death and Re-birth patten is in her because it was first in Him. On the other hand, elements of Nature-religion are strikingly absent from the teaching of Jesus and from the Judaic preparation which led up to it precisely because in them Nature’s Original is manifesting itself. In them you have to have from the very outset got in behind Nature-religion and behind Nature herself. Where the real God is present the shadows of that God do not appear; that which the shadows resembled does. The Hebrews throughout their history were being constantly headed off from the worship of Nature-gods; not because the Nature-god were in all respects unlike the God of Nature but because, at best, they were merely like, and it was the destiny of that nation to be turned away from likenesses to the thing itself. The goodness of anything is twofold; one, which is of the essence of it—thus, for instance, to be rational pertains to the essence of humans. As regards this god, God cannot make a thing better than it is itself; although He can make another thing better than it; even as He cannot make the number four greater than it is; because if it were greater it would no longer be four, but another number. For the addition of a substantial difference in definitions is after the manner of the addition of unity of numbers. Another kind of goodness is that which is over and above the essence; thus, the good of a human is to be virtuous or wise. As regards this kind of goodness, God can make better the things He has made. Absolutely speaking, however, God can make something else better than each thing made by Him. #RandolphHarris 9 of 20
When it is said that God can make a thing better than He makes it, if “better” is taken substantively, this proposition is true. For He can always make something else better than each individual thing: and He can make the same thing in one way better than it is, and in another way not; as was explained above. If, however, “better” is taken as an adverb, implying the manner of the making; thus God cannot make anything better than He makes it, because He cannot make it from greater wisdom and goodness. However, if it implies the manner of the thing done, He can make something better; because He can give to things made by Him a beer manner of existence as regards the accidents, although not as regards the substance. It is of the nature of a son that he should be equal to his father, when he comes to maturity. However, it is not the nature of anything created, that it should be better than it was made by God. Hence the comparison fails. The Universe, the present creation being supposed, cannot be better, on account of the most beautiful order given to things by God; in which the good of the Universe consists. For if any one thing were bettered, the proportion of order would be destroyed; as if one strong were stretched more than it ought to be, the melody of the harp would be destroyed. Yet God could make other things, or add something to the present creation; and then there would be another and a better Universe. The humanity of Christ, from the fact that it is untied to the Godhead; and created happiness from the fact that it is the fruition of God; and the Blessed Virgin from the fact that she is the mother of God; have all a certain infinite dignity from the infinite good, which is God. And on this account there cannot be anything better than these; just as there cannot be anything better than God. #RandolphHarris 10 of 20
Man has always been fascinating with going back in time. The question has often been asked, if you could go back in time, would you do anything differently? But what if it came out another. However, no one asks, if you could go forward in time, what would you change? As fewer workers in the rich nations have engaged in physical production, more have been needed to produce ideas, patents, scientific formulae, bills, invoices, reorganization plans, files, dossiers, marker research, sales presentations, letters, graphic, legal briefs, engineering specifications, computer programs, and a thousand other forms of data or symbolic output. This rise in white-collar, technical, and administrative activity has been so widely documented in so many countries that we need no statistics here to make the point. Indeed, some sociologists have seized on the increasing abstraction of production as evidence that society has moved into a “post-industrial” stage. The facts are more complicated. For the growth of the white-collar work force can be better understood as an extension of industrialism—a further last surge of the Second Wave—than as a leap to a new system. While it is true that work has grown more abstract and less concrete, the actual offices in which this work is being done are modeled the after Second Wave factories, with the work itself fragmented, repetitive, dull, and dehumanizing. Even today, much office reorganization is little more than an attempt to make the office more closely resemble a factory. In this “symbol-factory,” Second Wave civilization also created a factorylike caste system. The factory work force is divided into manual and nonmanual workers. The office is similarly divided into “high abstraction” and “low abstraction” workers. At one level we find the high abstracters, the technocratic elites: scientist, engineers, and managers, much of whose time is taken up with meetings, conferences, business lunches, or in dictating, drafting memos, placing phone calls, and otherwise exchanging information. One recent survey estimated that 80 percent of the manager’s time is spent in 150 to 300 “information transactions” daily. #RandolphHarris 11 of 20
At the other level we find the low abstracters—white-collar proletarians, as it were—who, like factory workers throughout the Second Wave period, perform endlessly routine and deadening work. Mostly female and nonunionized, this group can justifiably smile with irony at the sociologists’ talk of “post-industrialism.” They are the industrial work force of the office. Today the office, too, is beginning to move beyond the Second Wave and into the Third, and his industrial caste system is about to be challenged. All the old hierarchies and structures of the office are soon to be reshuffled. The Third Wave revolution in the office is a result of several colliding forces. The need for information has mushroomed so wildly that no army of Second Wave clerks, typists, and secretaries, no matter how large or hard-working, can possibly cope with it. In addition, the cost of paper work has climbed so calamitously that a frantic search is underway to control it. (Office costs have swelled to 40 or 50 percent of all costs in many companies, and some experts estimate that the expense companies spend per employee annually is $1,844. The expense for preparing one business letter anywhere between $75 and $150 for a typical one-page letter of 350-450 words). Moreover, while the average factory worker in the United States of America today is supported by an estimated $150,000 worth of technology, the office worker, as one Xerox sales man out it, “works with about $13,500 worth of computers and machines, and is probably among the least productive workers in the World.” Office productivity has climbed a bare 4 percent over the past decade, and conditions in other countries are probably even more pronounced. #RandolphHarris 12 of 20
Contrast this with the extraordinary decline in the cost of computers, as measured by the number of functions performed. It has been estimated that computer output has increased 10,000 times in the past fifteen years, and that the per-function cost today is down 100,000-fold. The combination of rising costs and stagnating productivity on the one hand and computer advances on the other make an irresistible combination. The result is likely to be nothing less than a “wordquake.” Over 66 percent of Americans use a computer at work, and over 80 percent of them say it is essential to their jobs. With this much workplace use and demand, it is important to understand the way a computer can affect your job. Many Americans rely on their computer skills to find meaningful employment and to work effectively once employed. Computer and information technology (IT) touch nearly every aspect of modern life. Information technology can help with such diverse tasks as driving motor vehicles and diagnosing disease. IT enables seamless integration and communication between businesses anywhere in the World. The IT industry is one of the largest in the World employing 1.7 million people. The global computers market is expected to grow from $331.45 billion to $367.56 billion on 2021 at a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 10.9 percent. Major companies in the computers market include HP; Apple; Advantech; Eurotech and Kontron. The market is expected to reach $505.45 billion in 2025 with CAGR of 8 percent. The computer is still sometimes called a “smart typewriter” and this device fundamentally alters the flow of information in the office, and with it the job structure. It is however, only one of great family of new technologies deluging the white-collar World. As businesses continue to work primarily remotely, video is increasing in importance. Being able to see team members helps build a sense of comradery and helps everyone feel less isolated from one another, while making collaboration more productive. What we are looking at is the beginning of what some term the “paperless office” of tomorrow. #RandolphHarris 13 of 20
Not only will video benefit your workforce in the way of conferencing and meetings, it also is the preferred way to consume all content in general. In fact, employees are 75 percent more likely to watch a video than read text. Technology in business communication is largely centered around remote work. We have witnessed a huge mobile tsunami over the past two years. This will only continue as 5G is arriving and offers more in the way of mobility. In fact 1 in 2 people will not return to jobs that do not offer remote work. Also, 75 percent of people feel more productive at home, while 80 percent expect to work from home at least tree times of week. For those concerned about the environment, this is a great solution because it will reduce air pollution, traffic, and fuel consumption. Working from is very important, which is why more people are buying larger houses than they need, so they can have space to work in a quiet area. Instead of wasting money on cars and maintenance and fuel, they are able to invest in a home, something that will earn them money over time. Therefore, people also want to keep their neighborhood peaceful and attractive. To physically maintain communities, there are several millions of dollars of low-interest loans available to remodel homes and upgrade apartments. Ten percent of all apartment building flats are inspected every year, and a building must be brought fully up to code before it can be sold and title transferred. Some communities even used to offer grants to landlords to discourage all-one-race apartments. On a voluntary basis, a landlord could enter a five-year agreement to let Housing Centers serve as the landlord’s rental agent. #RandolphHarris 14 of 20
The landlord, on singing, became eligible for matching grants up to $10,000 per unit to improve the apartment interiors; there were larger grants for exterior renovations. The Housing Center, in turn, actively sought non-European American tenants for buildings that were predominately European American and European America tenants for buildings that were predominantly non-European American. In both goals of physically maintaining the suburb and encouraging integration, the community program was remarkably successful for a quarter of a century. The communities were tightly managed, and that did not appeal to some. The community would quickly intervene to prevent signs of building deterioration and to encourage racial harmony. The suburb rigidly enforced building codes and also acted swiftly to prevent unethical or illegal activities by realtors. Brotherly love is not synonymous with friendship, although it may be part of it. Friends like each other, delight in each other’s companionship, are confidential, loyal, trusting, and share many mutual interests. Friendship is reciprocal. Brotherly love is more unselfish than either romantic love or friendship. One possessed of Christian love has a profound concern for the welfare of others. One loses one’s life in their interests. One’s life is alter- or other-ego centered. It does not matter whether the other person—the one loved—appreciates or responds to the love shown one, because brotherly love nourishes itself. It resides wholly in the person who loves and does not need response to keep it alive as romantic love and friendship do. The real test of whether one has brotherly love was given by Jesus when he said and exemplified: “Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you,” reports Matthew 5.44. Brotherly love is impartial and, therefore, universal. One who has brotherly love is concerned for any and every human, whether one be sinner or saint, attractive or unattractive, of the same or of another faith or race. In fact, if one is selective as to whom one loves, the chances are one loves no human in a brotherly way. #RandolphHarris 15 of 20
What gives a person the sense of being well and “together”? How does a person become strong, in the sense of having good self-esteem, a god ability to understand situation and use them creatively, good personality-organization which allows feelings and needs to find expression in actions and in gratifications which in turn feed self-esteem? We do not know for sure. We may have come guesses based on what good parents, good friends, and good therapists have in common. It has been interesting to note what parallels between the behavior of good parents and good therapists. Literally, psychotherapy means “ministering to a person’s breath, soul, life.” Parents do this, and psychotherapists do this, but they are not the only ones. Friends and lovers are also notable in this respect. Friends and lovers have certain advantages in ministering to each other. However, in some particulars the professionals have the advantage. First of all, we must remember the many people who have no friends and yet need to have their psyche ministered to. Equally important, there are some things which are incompatible with friendship but which need to happen if a person’s psyche is to be restored, and so this must be left to the professionals. What these things are will become clearer in the course of these essays; they have to do with the circumstances in which a person can make a new beginning. In psychotherapy a person may find the secure boundaries which are essential for this work. Psychotherapists can impose the boundaries within which work with transferences and regressions can safely be carried on. They can set rules and insist on them: only fifty minutes per session, only one session per day, no physical violence. Also, their other close relationships are not endangered by this relationship. And so on. #RandolphHarris 16 of 20
What friends are able and willing to do for each other depends on many factors and I see no good in trying to lay down the law about that. My own views are sometimes made clear in this essay and sometimes not—in the latter case often because I am in fact not clear about them myself. Psychotherapy is a developmental process, as growing-up is, and the two have features in common. A difference is that psychotherapy is remedial: it is intended to make people better, to make good some deficiency or disturbance whose roots my go back to the days of childhood. This necessarily raises questions it has been convenient to evade until now: what do I mean by “good” development and by a “fortunate baby”? And if something goes “wrong,” what do I mean? And what do I mean by “better”? My own values necessarily permeate this essay, and it is time to look at these explicitly, however briefly. There are interrelated clusters of values that seem important to me: I think it is better for children (and for those who come into psychotherapy) if, in the course of development, they gain in self-knowledge including knowledge of unwanted regions of the self, self-acceptance including acceptance of at least some unwanted regions of the self, self-direction including the ability to choose one’s own goals and values, self-love, love of other people and knowledge and acceptance of some of their unwanted regions, ability to relate to and yet be separate from others, tolerance of frustration when goals, values or affection require, a varied set of values, freedom to develop further. The first culture of values has to do with the geography and logistics of the self. It seems important to me that people should have the opportunity to discover who they are—what is good and bad in them, what hurts, what delights, and so on—as well as the opportunity to decide what to do about it. The second cluster has to do with relationships. It seems important to me that people should enjoy themselves and each other, and that they should know the difference. The third cluster is about favorable conditions for work, growth, and change. #RandolphHarris 17 of 20
In psychotherapy, as in helping children grow up, the ideal development is one in which each new stage is accepted in such a way that the satisfactions of the previous stage are still accessible, neither associated with such pain that thoughts of it must be avoided at all costs, nor so delicious that developing to the next stage seems a trouble from which we recoil. Ideally we should only have to overcome our natural reluctance, conscious or unconscious, to think about painful as well as about pleasant things. However, bad things may have happened to us before we have sufficiently well-organized self-regions to absorb them. What are the consequences? In some circumstances, the memory-traces of the bad experiences are kept apart, and so are not subject to modification by later events. These split-off memory-traces can later be responsible for overwhelming feelings of misery, emptiness, inertia, and fear. By “overwhelming” I mean literally that we feel we have ceased to be people and are just clumps of dreadful feelings. We may try to rationalize those feelings—we feel so terrible because we failed an examination, lost a lover, or a job, or are worried about the state of the World. However in fact, we feel terrible because we are not in touch with memories from when we did not yet exist as persons and yet were in a state of suffering; it would be more accurate to say “There is a sense of dreadful misery” than to say “I feel very miserable”: this misery of those earlier says has never been integrated. If we are ever to feel better, the bad memory-traces of those days have to be integrated later in less painful contexts. #RandolphHarris 18 of 20
During that process of integration, a process of dissolution also takes place. These reorganizations enable us to see things as they are, more or less closely connected with us and, by the same token, more or less distant from us. Thus we get a self which as feelings but is not dissolved in them. In therapy or in everyday life, processes have to happen at the end of which a person can say “I feel miserable”: there is an “I” to feel it. The misery no longer feels overwhelming, eternal, and immovable. After that, further healing can take place. Let there be peace, welfare, and righteousness in every part of the World. Let confidence and friendship prevail for the good of east and west, for the good of the needy south, for the good of all humanity. Let people inspire their leaders, helping them to seek peace by peaceful means, helping them and urging them to build a better World, a World with a home for everybody, a World with food and work for everybody, a World with spiritual freedom for everybody. Let those who have the power of money be motivated by selfless compassion. Let money become a tool for the good of humanity. Let those who have power deal respectfully with the resources of the planet. Let them respect and maintain the purity of the air, water, land and subsoil. Let them co-operate to restore the ecological soundness of Mother Earth. Let trees grow up by the billions around the World. Let green life invade the deserts. Let industry serve humanity and produce waste that serves nature. Let technology respect the holiness of Mother Earth. Let those who control the mass media contribute to create mutual understanding, contribute to create optimism and confidence. Let ordinary people meet by the millions across the borders. Let them create a universal network of love and friendship. Let billions of human beings co-operate to create a good future for their children and grandchildren. #RandolphHarris 19 of 20
Let us survive in peace and harmony with Mother Earth. It is up to us to receive and transmit our Torah. It is up to us to see that the World still stands. May the time be not distant when nation will not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. They shall beat their swords into ploughshares, for the Earth will be filled with the wonder of life. Then shall we sit under our vine and our fig tree and none shall be afraid. We seek a renewed stirring of life for the Earth. We plead that what we are capable of doing is not always what we ought to do. We urge that all people now determine that a wide untrammeled freedom shall remain to testify that this generation has love for the next. If we want to succeed in that, we might show, meanwhile, a little more love for this one, and for each other. The Heavenly hosts in awe reply: “His Kingdom be blessed forever and aye.” Their song being hushed, they vanish away; they may never again offer rapturous lay. But America, therein excel—fixed times they set aside, with praise and prayer, Him One declare, at morn and eventide. His portion them He made, that they His praise declare by night and day; a Torah, precious more than gold, He bade them study, fast to hold; that He may be near, their prayer to hear, for always wear will He as diadem fair His people’s prayer in His phylactery, wherein is told of America’s fame who oft God’s unity proclaim. It is also meet God’s praise to sing in presence of both prince and king. With tempestuous glee, like a stormy sea, they surge and ask: “Who, then, is the Friend of thy heart, for who thou rt cast in the lions’ den?” From that which we fear, make us fearless. O bounteous One, assist us with your grace. May the atmosphere we breathe breathe fearlessness into us: fearlessness on Earth and fearlessness in Heaven! May fearlessness surround us above and below! May we be without fear by night and by day! Let all the World by my friend! #RandolphHarris 20 of 20
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At His Preliminary Examination He Testified that He Has Been in the Snare of the Devil!
A weary and secretive darkness crept into her face, a distraction, as though her soul had traveled out of doors towards Heaven, and the she looked down sadly. When I came in sight of the house where John Procter live, there was a very hard blow struck on my breast which caused great pain in my stomach and amazement in my head. However, I did see no person near me, only my wife behind me on the same horse. And when I cam against said Mr. Procter’s house, according to my understanding, I did see John Procter and his wife at the said house. [They were, remember, in prison at this time.] Mr. Procter himself looked out of the window and his wife did stand just without the door. I told my wife of it, and she did look that way and could see nothing but a little maid at the door. I saw no maid there, but Mr. Procter’s wife according to my understanding did stand at the door. Afterwards, about half a mile from the aforesaid house, I was taken speechless for some short time. My wife did ask me several questions and desired me that if I could not speak I should hold up my hand, which I did. And immediately I could speak as well as ever. [Notice again that the fit was broken when the subject is able to move or speak.] And when we came to the way where Salem Road cometh into Ispwich Road, here I received another blow on my breast which caused much pain, so that I could not sit on my horse. And when I did alight off my horse, to my understanding I saw a woman coming towards us about sixteen or twenty pole from us, but did not know who it was. My wife could not see her. #RandolphHarris 1 of 16
When I did get up on my horse again, to my understanding there stood a cow where I saw the woman. [Witches were thought capable of transforming their shapes.] After that we went to Boston without any further molestation, but after I came home again to Newbury I was pinched and nipped by something invisible for some time. However, now through God’s goodness to me I am well again. That was testimony from Joseph Bailey of what he and his wife encountered. Testimony like this is careful and honest, and historians have been wrong in refusing to take it seriously. Mr. Baily was quite aware that he had been ill, and that the illness had created a difference between his perceptions and those of his wife. However, the fatal distinction between his understandings of the event and ours is that his culture led him to attribute his illness to witchcraft whereas ours permits us to attribute it to his fear of witchcraft. There are many similar instances of the specters of innocent people appearing to afflict the citizenry once they were suspected of witchcraft. One of the more interesting involves John Willard, who had at first been a deputy-constable employed in arresting persons who had been complained of. According to Robert Calef, an American author who wrote a book on the Salem Witch Trials of 1692-93, he became dissatisfied after being sent to arrest persons he believed innocent, and resigned his position. This immediately brought him under suspicion, and soon the afflicted girls were crying out against him. Shortly thereafter his grandfathers, Bray Wilkins, was ready for dinner when John Willard came into the house with my son Henry Wilkins, before I sat down, and said Mr. Willard to my apprehension looked after such a sort upon me as I never before discerned in any. #RandolphHarris 2 of 16
That is, Mr. Wilkins thought Mr. Willard had “overlooked” him—given him the evil eye. I did but step into the next room and I was presently taken so that I could not dine nor eat anything. I cannot express the misery I was in, for my water was suddenly stopped and I had no benefit of nature, but was like a man in a rock. And I told my wife immediately that I was afraid that Mr. Willard had done me wrong. My pain continuing and finding no relief my jealousy [id es, suspicion] continued. Mr. Lawson and others there were all amazed and knew not what to do for me. There was a woman accounted skillful [who] came hoping to help me, and after she had used means she asked me whether none of those evil persons had done me damage. I said I could not say they had but I was sore afraid they had. She answered, she did fear so too. As near as I remember I lay in this case three or four days at Boston, and afterwards, with the jeopardy of my life (as I though), I cam home. And then some of my friends coming to see me (and at this time John Willard was run away) one of the afflicted persons, Mercy Lewis, came in with them, and they asked whether she saw anything. She said, “Yes, they are looking for Jon Willard but here he is on his grandfather’s belly.” (And at that time I was in grievous pain in the small of my belly.) I continued so in grievous pain and my water much stopped till said Mr. Willard was in chains. And then as near as I can guess I have considerable ease. However, on the other hand, in the room of a stoppage I was vexed with a flowing of water so that it was hard to keep myself dry. #RandolphHarris 3 of 16
On the fifth [of] July last, talking with some friends about John Willard, some pleading his innocency and myself and some others arguing the contrary, within about one-quarter of an hour after that I was taken in the sorest distress and misery, my water being turned into real blood, or of a bloody color, and the old pain returned excessively as before, which continued for about twenty-four hours together. In this testimony, we come to understand the hysterical loss of appetite which was Mr. Wilkins’ first symptom we have seen before and shall see again. The inability to urinate we have seen in Mrs. Simms as a result of Manny Redd’s curse. However, there was clearly something organic as well as psychosomatic wrong with Bray Wilkins. The blood in the urine coupled with the extreme pain of relatively short duration suggests that it may have been a kidney stone. However, whatever it was, both Mr. Wilkins and the community at large were by this time ready to attribute it to witchcraft. William Baker’s confessions provide an excellent example that the Salem Witch Trials were carried in chiefly by the complaints and accusations of the afflicted and by the confessions of the accused, condemning themselves and others. Nothing is a first sight more surprising than the number of the confessors and the character of their confessions. There were about fifty of them, and the statements which they made far exceed in color and detail the simple statements of personal guilt that were necessary to save their lives. According to Mr. Baker, at his preliminary examination he testified that he has been in the snare of the Devil three years. #RandolphHarris 4 of 16
That the Devil first appeared to him like a black man, and he perceived he had a cloven foot; that the Devil demanded of him to give up himself soul and body unto him, which he promised to do. [The Devil promised in return to pay Mr. Baker’s debts and see that he lived comfortably. Mr. Baker signed the contract in blood.] Satan’s design was to set up his own worship, abolish all churches in the land (which some say politicians are currently doing), to fall next [id est, first] upon Salem and so go through the country. He saith the Devil promised that all his people should be equal, that there should be n day of resurrection or of judgment, and neither punishment nor shame for sin. That explains why people are trying to banish God and they church. They know they are bad people and believe they can avoid being held responsible for their crimes and sins by raising hell on Earth and raising the Devil. Mr. Baker said that the demonic “Grandess” had told him there were about “307 witches in the country” and he volunteered his opinion that all the persons arrested and imprisoned to date (August 29, 1692) were guilty. However, an oral confession was not enough for him. Mr. Hale prints another “which he wore himself in prison, and sent to the magistrate to confirm his former confession.” However, an oral confession was not enough for him. Mr. Hale prints another “which he wrote himself in prison, and sent to the magistrates to confirm his former confession.” Here is his testimony: God having called me to confess my sins and apostasy in that fall in giving the Devil advantage over me, appearing to me like a Black, in the evening, to set my hand to his book, as I have owned to my shame. He told me that I should not want [in] so doing. At Salem Village, there being a little off the Meeting-House about an hundred five blades [id est, young bucks], some with rapiers by their sides, which was called (and might be more for ought I know) by Bishop and Burroughs. #RandolphHarris 5 of 16
And the trumpet sounded, and [there was] bread and beverage which they called Sacrament, but I had none, being carried over all on a stick, never being at any other meeting. I being at carting a Saturday last, all the day of hay and English corn, the Devil brought my shape to Salem and did afflict Martha Sprague and Rose Foster by clitching my hand. And a Sabbath day my shape afflicted Abigail Martin. Elizabeth Johnson and Abigail Faulkner have been my enticers to this great abomination, as one have owned and charged her to her sister with the same. And the design was to destroy Salem Village, and to begin at the minister’s house, and to destroy the Church of God, and to set up Satan’s kingdom, and then all will be well. And now I hope God in some measure has made me something sensible of my sin and apostasy, begging pardon of God, and of the Honorable Magistrates and all God’s People, hoping and promising by the help of God to set to my heart and hand to do what in me leith to destroy such wicked worship, humbly begging the prayers of all God’s People for me [that] I may walk humbly under this great affliction and that I may procure to myself he sure mercies of David and the blessing of Abraham. Such testimony sheds light on the centuries long plot of some to remove God from America. Pray I must, my Lordly Friend, but what should I pray? Bless You, Heavenly Father, Father of my Lord Jesus Christ, for remembering me, pauper that I am? O Father of mercies and God of consolations, as Paul began his Second Letter to the Corinthians (1.3), I give You thanks, unworthy as I am of Your every consolation? #RandolphHarris 6 of 16
I bless You always, and I glorify You, with You Only Begotten Son and the Holy Spirit, the Paraclete, for ever and ever? O Lord God, my Holy Loving Friend, when You come into my heart, You make my blood dance? “You are my glory,” thrummed the Psalmist (3.3) and “the exaltation of my heart” (119.111)? You are my hope and—thrumming again—“my refuge in the day of my tribulation” (59.16)? I ask again, O Lord, what should I pray? At this point in my life, I find myself not only a little long in the tooth, but also a little short in the hoof; that is to say, a little short of breath in the pursuit of Love and Virtue. I have no one to turn to. You are the only One who can help me. Do not be surprised, then, when I ask You to visit me more often. I need to know more about the holy disciplines. Will they free my body from the itch, cure my heart from the worm? Cleanse me on the inside, scrub me on the outside, and I will be ready enough to love, strong enough to suffer, stable enough to preserve. And you say that these blood drinkers are worshiped in the hills. It was the spring of 1880, I had lost my way, and could not tell how far I might be from my destination. I was very tired and had a heavy knapsack on my shoulders, packed with stones and relics from the ruins of the Old Pelasgic fortress which I had been exploring, besides a number of old coins and a lamp or two which I had purchased there. I could discern no signs of any human habitation, and the hills, covered with wood, seemed to shut me in on every side. I was beginning to think seriously of looking out for some sheltered spot under a thicket in which to pass the night. I was so excited to get back to the Winchester estate. The mansion was a large rambling place, and was tolerably comfortable within. My room was situated at the end of a long passage; there were two rooms on the right side of this passage, and a window on the left, which looked out upon the garden. #RandolphHarris 7 of 16
Having taken a survey of the outside of the house while getting some fresh air after dinner, when the moon was up, I remembered exactly the position of my chamber—the end room of a long narrow wing, projecting at right angles from the main building, with which it was connected only by the passage and two side rooms already mentioned. Please to bear this description carefully in mind while I proceed. Before getting into bed, I drove into the floor close to the door a small gimlet which formed part of a complicated Winchester pocket-knife which I always carried with me, so that it would be impossible for any one to enter the room without my knowledge; there was a lock to the door, but the key would not turn in it; there was also a bolt, but it would not enter the hole intended for it, the door having sunk apparently from its proper level. I satisfied, myself, however, that the door was securely fastened by my gimlet, and soon fell asleep. How can I describe the strange and horrible sensation which oppressed me as I woke out of my slumber? I had been sleeping soundly, and before I quite recovered consciousness I had instinctively risen from my pillow, and was crouching forward, my knees drawn up, my hands clasped before my face, and my whole frame quivering with horror. I saw nothing, felt nothing; but a sound was ringing in my ears which seemed to make my blood run cold. I could not have supposed it possible that any mere sound, whatever might be its nature, could have produced such a revulsion of feeling or inspired such intense horror as I then experienced. It was not a cry of terror that I heard—that would have roused me to action—nor the moaning of one in pain—that would have distressed me, and called forth sympathy rather than aversion. #RandolphHarris 8 of 16
True, it was like the groaning of one in anguish and despair, but not like any mortal voice: it seemed too dreadful, too intense, for human utterance. The sound had begun while I was fast asleep—close to the head of my bed—close to my very pillow; it continued after I was wide awake—a long, hollow, protracted groan, making the midnight air reverberate, and then dying gradually away until it ceased entirely. It was some minutes before I could at all recover from the terrible impression which seemed to stop my breath and paralyse my limbs. At length I began to look about me, for the night was not entirely dark, and I could discern the outlines of the room and the several pieces of furniture in it. I then got out of bed, and called aloud, “Who is there? What is the matter? Is anyone ill?” I repeated these enquiries in Italian, German, and French, but there was none that answered. Fortunately I had some matches in my pocket and was able to light my candle. I then examined every part of the room carefully, and especially the wall at the head of my bed, sounding it with my knuckles; it was firm and solid there, as in all other places. I unfastened my door, and explored the passage and the two adjoining rooms, which were unoccupied and almost destitute of furniture; they had evidently not been used for some time. Search as I would, I could gain no clue to the mystery. Returning to my room I sat down upon the bed in great perplexity, and began to turn over in my mind whether it was possible I could have been deceived—whether the sounds which caused me such distress might be the offspring of some dream or nightmare; but to that conclusion I could not bring myself at all, much as I wished it, for the groaning had continued ringing in my ears long after I was wide away and conscious. #RandolphHarris 9 of 16
While I was thus reflecting, having neglected to close the door which was opposite to the side of my bed where I was sitting, I heard a soft footstep at a distance, and presently a light appeared at the further end of the passage. Then I saw the shadow of a man cast upon the opposite wall; it moved very slowly, and presently stopped. I saw the hand raised, as if making a sign to someone, an I knew from the fact of the shadow being thrown in advance that there must be a second person in the rear by whom the light was carried. After a short pause they seemed to retrace their steps, without my having had a glimpse of either of them, but only of the shadow which had come before and which followed them as they withdrew. It was then a little after one o’clock, and I concluded they were retiring late to rest, and anxious to avoid disturbing me, though I have since thought that it was the light from my room which caused their retreat. I felt half inclined to call to them, but I shrank, without knowing why, from making known what had disturbed me, and while I hesitated they were gone; so I fastened my door again, and resolved to sit up and watch a little longer by myself. However, now my candle was beginning to burn low, and I found myself in this dilemma: either I must extinguish it at once, or I should be left without the means of procuring a light in case I should be again disturbed. I regretted that I had not called for another candle while there were people yet moving in the house, but I could not do so now without making explanations; so I grasped my box of matches, put out my light, and lay down, not without a shudder, in the bed. #RandolphHarris 10 of 16
For an hour more I lay awake thinking over what had occurred, and by that time I had almost persuaded myself that I had nothing but my own morbid imagination to thank for the alarm which I had suffered. “It is an outer wall,” I said to myself; “they are all outer walls, and the house 9-inch-thick walls; it is impossible that sound could be heard through such a thickness. Besides, it seemed to be in my room, close to my ear. What an idiot I must be, to be excited an alarmed about nothing; I will think no more about it.” So I turned on my side, with a smile (rather a forced one) at my own foolishness, and composed myself to sleep. At that instant I heard, with more distinctness than I ever heard any other sound in my life, a gasp, a voiceless gasp, as if someone were in agony for breath, biting at the air, or trying with desperate efforts to cry out or speak. It was repeated a second and a third time; then there was a pause; then again that horrible gasping; and then a long-drawn breath, an audible drawing up of air into the throat, such as one would make in heaving a deep sigh. Such sounds as these could not possibly have been heard unless they had been close to my ear; they seemed to come from the wall at my heard, or to rise up out of my pillow. That fearful gasping, and that drawing in of the breath, in darkness and silence of the night, seemed to make every nerve in my body thrill with dreadful expectation. Unconsciously I shrank away from it, crouching down as before, with my face upon my knees. It ceased, and immediately a moaning sound began, which lengthened out into an awful, protracted groan waxing louder and louder, as if under an increasing agony, and then dying away slowly and gradually into silence; yet painfully and distinctly audible even to the last. #RandolphHarris 11 of 16
As soon as I could rouse myself from the freezing horror which seemed to penetrate even to my joints and marrow, I crept away from the bed, and in the further corner of the room lighted with shaking hand of my candle, looking anxiously about me as I did so, expecting some dreadful revelation as the light flashed up. Yet, if you will believe me, I did not feel alarmed or frightened; but rather oppressed, and penetrated wit an unnatural, overpowering, sentiment of awe. I seemed to be in the presence of some great and horrible mystery, some bottomless depth of woe, or misery, or crime. I shrank from it with a sensation of intolerable loathing and suspense. It was a feeling akin to this which prevented me from calling Mrs. Winchester. I could not bring myself to speak to her of what had passed; not knowing how nearly she might be involved in the mystery. I was only anxious to escape as quietly as possible from the room and from the house. The candle was now beginning to flicker in its socket, but the stars were shining outside, and there was space and air to breathe there, which seemed to be wanting in my room; so I hastily opened my window, tied the bedclothes together for a rope, and lowered myself silently and safely to the ground. There was a light still burning in the lower part of the house; but I crept noiselessly along, feeling my way carefully among the trees, and in due time came upon a beaten track which led me to a road, the same which I had been travelling on the previous night. I walked on, scarcely knowing whither, anxious only to increase my distance from the accursed house, until day began to break, when almost the first object I could see distinctly was a small body of men approaching me. #RandolphHarris 12 of 16
The men asked me what was wrong? “I was disturbed in the night. I could not sleep. I made my escape from the Winchester mansion, and here I am I cannot tell you more.” “But you must tell me more, dear sir; forgive me; you must tell me everything. I must know all that passed in that mansion. We have had in under our surveillance for a long time, and when I heard in what direction you had gone yesterday, and had not returned, I feared you had got into some mischief there, and we were even now upon our way to look for you. The mansion is so large that people seem to get lost inside and disappear.” I could not enter into particulars, but I told him I had heard strange sounds, and at his respect I went back with him to the mansion. He told me by the way that the mansion was haunted; that Mrs. Winchester e mansion, he placed his men about the premises and instituted a strict search, and Mrs. Winchester and the man who was found in the house being compelled to accompany him. The room in which I had slept was carefully examined; the wall was of plaster or cement, so that no sound could have passed through it; the walls were sound and solid, and there was nothing to be seen that could in any way account for the strange disturbance I had experienced. The room on the ground-floor underneath my bedroom was inspected; it contained a quantity of straw, hay, firewood, and lumber. It was paved with thick wooden slaps, and it was observed that the floors were uneven, as if they had been recently disturbed. #RandolphHarris 13 of 16
“Ply the board loose,” said the officer, “we shall find something hidden here, I reckon.” Mrs. Winchester was evidently much disturbed. “Stop,” she cried. “I will tell you what lies there; come away out of doors, and you shall know all about it.” “Dig, I say. We will find out for ourselves.” “Let the dead rest,” cried Mrs. Winchester, with a trembling voice. “For the love of Heaven come away, and hear what I shall tell you. It is the body of my son, my only son—let him rest, if rest he can. He was wounded in a quarrel, and brought home to die. I thought he would recover, but there was neither doctor nor priest at hand, an in spite of all that would could do for him he died. Let him alone now, or let a priest first be sent for; he died unconfessed and unacknowledged. No one ever knew of his existence. I had hope to spare him of the Winchester cruse that Annie and his father had succumbed to. He was buried here because I did not want to make a stir about it. Nobody knew of his death nor his existence, and we laid him down quietly; once place I thought was as good as another when once the life was out of him. We could not bare a scandal. That gasping attempt to speak, and that awful groaning—whence did they proceed? It was no living voice. Beyond that I will express no opinion on the subject. I will only say it was the means of saving my life, and at the same time putting an end to the series of bloody deeds which had been committed under my family’s name. Every year, I go to the edge of my estate and drop a pound of silver in a grave, and my prayers go up to Heaven in all sincerity!” #RandolphHarris 14 of 16
I invoke thee, and move thee, and stir thee up O Spirit Berith appear unto my eyes before the circle in the likeness of a man in the names and by the name Iah and Vau, which Adam spake and in the name of God, Agla, which Lot spake: and it was as pleasant deliverers unto him and his house and in the name Ioth which Iacob spake in the voice of the Holy ones who cast one down, and it was also as pleasant deliverers in the anger of his brother and in the name Anaphaxeton, which Aaron spake and it was as the Secret Wisdom and in the name Asher Ehyeh Oriston, which Mosheh spake, and all waters were brining forth creatures who wax strong, which lifted up unto the houses, which destroyed all things and in the name of Elion which Mosheh spake, and it was as stones from the firmament of wrath, such as was not in the ages of Time the beginning of the Earth and in the name of Adni, which Mosheh spake and there appeared creatures of Earth who destroyed what the big stones did not: and in the name Schema Amathia, which Ioshua invoked, and the Sun remained over ye, O ye hills the seats of Gibeon, and in the names Alpha and Omega which Daniel spake, and destoyed Bel and the Dragon: and in the nae Emmanuel which the sons of God sang praises in the midst of the burning plain, and flourished in conquest: and in the name Hagios, and by the Throne of Adni, and in Ischyros, Athanatos, Paracletos: and in O Theos, Ictros, Athanatos. And in these names of the secret truth, Agla, On, Tetragrammaton, do I invoke and move thee. And in these names, and all things that are the names of the God of Secret Truth who liveth for ever, the All-Powerful. I invoke and stie thee up, O’ spirit Berith. #RandolphHarris 15 of 16
Even by him who spake it was, to whom all creatures are obedient and in the Extreme Justice and Anger of God; and by the veil that is before the glory of God, mighty; and by the creatures of living breath before the Throne whose eyes are east and west; by the fire in the fire of just Glory of the Throne; by the Holy ones of Heaven; and by the secret wisdom of God, I, exalted in power, stir three up. Appear before this circle; obey in all things that I say; in the seal Basdathea Baldachia; and in this Name Primeumaton, which Mosheh spake and the Earth was divided, and Korah, Dathan, and Abiram fell in the depth. Therefore obey in all things, O Spirit Berith, obey thy creation. Come thou forth: appear into my eyes; visit us in peace, be friendly; come forth in the 24th of a moment; obey my power, speaking the secrets of Truth in voice and in understanding! I stir thee up, O Spirit Berith, in all things that are the names of glory and power of God the Great One who is greater than understanding, Adni Ihvh Tzabaoth, come forth in the 24th of a moment, let Thy dwelling-place be empty; apply thyself unto the secret truth and obey my power: appear unto my eyes, visit us in peace, speaking the secrets of truth in voice and understanding. I stir thee up and move thee, O spirit Berith, in all the names that I have said, and I add these one and sic names wherein Solomon, the lord of the secret wisdom, placed yourselves, spirits of wrath, in a vessel, Adonai, Preyai Tetragrammaton, Anaphaxeton Ineddenfatoal, Pathtomon and Itemon: appear before this circle; obey in all things my power. And as thou art he that obeys not and comes not I shall be in thy power, O God Most High that liveth for ever, who is the creator of all things n six days, Eie, Saraye, and in my power in the name Prieumaton that ruleth over the palaces of Heaven, Curse Thee, and destroy thy seat, joy, and power; and I bind thee in the depth of Abaddon, to remain until the day of judgment whose end cannot be. And I being thee in the fire of sulphur mingled with poison and the seas of fire and sulphur: come forth, therefore, obey my power and appear before this circle. Therefore come forth, therefore, obey my power and appear before this circle. Therefore come forth in the name of the Holy Ones Zabaoth, Adonia, Amioran. Come! For I am Adonai who stir thee up. #RandolphHarris 16 of 16
Winchester Mystery House
The attic spaces can get quite dark, but the lights shine through those beautiful glass panes! Come see this and more on the Explore More Tour!
Explore More Tour:
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A 160-room mansion built to appease the spirits who died at the hands of the Winchester Rifle 👻
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What a Lovely Day for a Bit of Mystery!
It is rare for people to be asked the question which puts them squarely in front of themselves. I hear your words, My dear Devout; now you hear Mine. You will find them not only suasive, but also persuasive. In fact, they exceed in wisdom all the accumulated knowledge of Philosophy since the World began. My particular words for you today are “spirit and life.” My Beloved Disciple recorded them in his Gospel (6.63), but Humanity cannot seem to make any sense out of them. Important words, they should not be exegeted smugly, if I may allude to that hoary Preacher of Ecclesiastes (9.17), but listened to respectfully. That is to say, they should be received with all humility and yet great affection. Our seventeenth-century ancestors differed from us in most ways, but in nothing did they differ more than in their attitude toward the truth. In this they were closer to the Middle Ages than to us. For them a lie—a breaking of one’s faith—was the worst of sins. Today, many do not regard lying as a serious moral wrong. If the word “morality” is mentioned we think immediately of our bodily appetites, especially of pleasures of the flesh, barbiturates, paraphernalia, liquor and contraband. If the word “morality” is mentioned we think immediately of our bodily appetites very seriously—perhaps too seriously—but we do not regard lying as a mortal sin. We are one of the few civilizations in which entire professions (TV news media, for example, and public relations) are seriously devoted to bending the truth. Dante, in his Divine Comedy, divided sins into three kinds: those of lust, those of violence, and those of fraud. #RandolphHarris 1 of 13
The sins of lust—those we tend to take most seriously—were those that Dante thought most trivial; the sins of fraud—which we take lightly—were for Dante the worst of all. To create a “credibility gap” as our revealing phrase has it (as though the only relevant issue is whether a statement will compel belief), to lie, was for the medieval humans to break one’s faith, and it was faith which constituted the bonds between humans and their fellow humans, between humans and the state, between humans and God. To lie was to reduce all the most valuable relationships of life to chaos. And the seventeenth-century Puritan, like Dante, was still living by his faith. Just how important the truth was to the seventeenth-century Puritan may be gathered from the fact that all of the innocent persons who were executed—and the majority of those executed were innocent—could have saved themselves by lying. After the first execution—that of Bridget Bishop—took place in June it became obvious to everyone that persons who confessed, like Tituba and Dorcas Good, were not being brought to trial. Thus any suspected person might have one’s life by confessing. Twenty people died, nineteen of them hanged and one pressed for refusing to plead. Bridget Bishop, Mammy Redd, and George Burroughs were three of these. One cannot be at all certain of the guilt or innocence of several more. However, at least a dozen now seem to be clearly innocent. Twelve people, and probably more, chose to die rather than belie themselves. It is impressive evidence of the Puritan’s attachment to the truth. #RandolphHarris 2 of 13
Yet it was not really so simple as that, because the truth was not easy to find in Salem in 1692. The greatest difficulty was created by the genuineness of the afflicted persons’ fits. Their sufferings were so convincing that they often shook the confidence of the accused. One example is William Hobbes, who began by stoutly denying that he had anything to do with the afflicted girls’ convulsions. When he looked at them they fell down in fits, and Hathorne accused him of overlooking them (id est, of he evil eye), yet still he denied it. Abigail Williams cried out that she saw his specter going to hunt Mercy Lewis “and immediately said Mercy fell into a fit and diverse others.” “Can you now deny it?” said Hathorne. “I can deny it to my dying day,” said William Hobbes. However, he did not. Here, after all, were people in hideous convulsions, and saying that his specter was the cause. How could this be? Hathorne suggested that the Devil might be able to use Hobbes’ specter because of Hobbes’ sins; he had not observed either public or private worship. Might not the Devil have taken advantage of that? Hobbes “was silent a considerable space—then said yes.” The girls’ fits shook not only Hobbes’ confidence in himself, but also his confidence in his daughter Abigail, the wild young girl who had boasted that she had sold herself “body and soul to the Old Boy.” Hathorne wanted to know whether Hobbes had not known for a long time that his daughter was a witch. “No, sir,” was the reply. “Do you think she is a witch now?” asked Hathorne. And all that Hobbes could say was, “I do no know.” #RandolphHarris 3 of 13
Abigail Faulkner’s experience was similar. At her first examination, on August 11, she firmly denied that she had anything to do with the girls’ afflictions. When she looked at them they fell down in fits, and Hathorne asked her, “Do you not see?” Yes, she saw. However, she had nothing to do with it. Yet she would not doubt that the girls were suffering, and saw no reason to doubt their word that it was her specter afflicting them. Therefore the Devil must be appearing in her form: “It is the Devil does it in my shape.” However, by August 30 she was no longer so sure of her innocence. It was true, she said, that she had been angry at what people said when her cousin, Elizabeth Johnson, had been arrested. She had felt malice toward the afflicted persons then because they were the cause of her cousin’s arrest. She has wished them ill, and “her spirit being raised she did pinch her hands together.” Perhaps the Devil had taken advantage of that to pinch the girls, thus exploiting her malice. Even those whose confidence was not shaken bore testimony to the impressiveness of the fits. Mary Easty knew that has had not bewitched the girls, and she was confident as well of the innocence of her sisters, Rebecca Nurse and Sarah Cloyse. Yet she had to grant that there was something preternatural in the girls’ behaviour. “It is an evil spirit,” she said, “but whether it be witchcraft I do not know.” Even George Burroughs, who had been audacious enough to boast of occult powers, found himself stunned by the girls’ behaviour. “Being asked what he thought of these things he answered it was an amazing and humbling Providence, but he understood nothing of it.” #RandolphHarris 4 of 13
Indeed, these courtroom fits were so convincing that most of the indictments were for witchcraft committed during the preliminary examination rather than for the offenses named in the original complain. The typical order of events in the Salem witchcraft cases was: the swearing out of a complaint for acts of witchcraft; a preliminary examination during which the afflicted persons had convulsive fits; an indictment for acts of witchcraft performed during the preliminary examination; and the trial. The direct cause of these fits, in the courtroom or out of it, was, of course, not witchcraft itself, but the afflicted person’s fear of witchcraft. If fits were occasioned by fear of someone like Bridget Bishop, who was actually practicing witchcraft, they might also be occasioned by fear of someone who was only suspected of practicing it. We are what we always were in Salem, but now the little crazy children are jangling the keys of the kingdom, and common vengeance writes the law! The Winchester Estate had belonged to the family ever since the reign of George Washington, and there was a curious old wing and a cloistered quadrangle still remaining of the original edifice, and in excellent preservation. The rooms at the end of the house were ornate, and somewhat darksome and gloomy, it is true; but, though rarely used they were perfectly habitable, and were of service on great occasions when the Winchester was crowded with guests. The central portion of the Winchester had been rebuilt in the reign James K. Polk, and was of noble and palatial proportions. The southern wing, and a long music-room with thirteen tall narrow daisy-stained glass windows added on to it, were as modern as the time. Altogether, the Winchester was a very splendid mansion with 160 rooms, 2,000 doors, 10,000 windows, 47 stairways, 47 fireplaces, 13 bathrooms, 6 kitchens, and even once had a nine-story tower. It was one of the chief glories of our country. All the land in the Winchester estate, and for a long way beyond its boundaries, belonged to the Winchester family. #RandolphHarris 5 of 13
The Winchester estate grounds actually expanded all the way down to Steven’s Creek Boulevard. The community church was once within the park walls. The former estate was actually much larger than it is today, it was composed of 500 to 600 rooms at one time, but the 1906 Earthquake brought down the nine-story tower and much of the fourth floor with it. The death of William Wirt Winchester left his son, William Wirt Winchester II, unprovided for, and he was fain to go out into the bleak unknown World, and earn his living in a position of dependence—a dreadful thing for a Winchester to be obliged to do. Out of respect for the traditions and prejudices of his race, he made it his business to seek employment abroad, where the degradation of one solitary Winchester was not so likely to inflict shame upon the ancient house to which he belonged. Happily for himself, he had been carefully educated, and had industriously cultivated the usual modern accomplishments in the calm retirement of the University of Cambridge. He was so fortunate as to obtain a situation at Vienna, in a German family of high rank; and remained there for seven years, laying aside year by year a considerable portion of his liberal salary. When his pupils had grown up, his kind mistress procured for him a still more profitable position at St. Petersburg, where he remained for five more years, at the end of which time he yielded to a yearning that had been long growing upon him—an ardent desire to see his dear old country home once more. He loved the soil from which he had sprung. In all of her letter for some time past, his mother, Mrs. Winchester begged that whenever he felt himself justified in coming home, he would pay a long visit to the Winchester Estate. #RandolphHarris 6 of 13
“I wish you could come home at Christmas,” she wrote, in the autumn of the year of which I am speaking. “We shall be very gay, and I expect all kinds of pleasant people at the Winchester. When he arrived there, the Old Winchester was in its glory, at about nine o’clock on a clear starlit night. A light frost whitened the broad sweeping lawns, 12,000 boxwood hedges that were winding through the garden, and the other 1,500 plants, trees and shrubs. From the music room at the end of the southern wing, to the heavily framed gothic windows of the old rooms on the north, there shone one blaze of light. The scene was reminiscent of some unusual place in a German legend; and young William half expected to see the lights fade out all in a moment, and long shingled façade wrapped in sudden darkness. The old butler, whom he remembered from his very infancy, and who did not seem to have grown a day older during his twelve years’ exile, came out of the dining-room as the footman opened the hall-door for him, and gave him a cordial welcome, nay insisted upon helping to bring in his portmanteau with his own hands, an act of unusual condescension, the full force of which was felt by his subordinates. “It is a real treat to see your pleasant face once more, William,” said this faithful retainer, as he assisted William to take off his travelling-cloak. “You have not aged a day since you used to live at the Winchester twelve year ago, and you are looking uncommon well; and, Lord love your heart, sir, how pleased they all will be to see you!” They arrived at last at a very comfortable room—a square tapes-tried chamber, with high ceiling support by a great mahogany beam. The room looked cheery enough, with a bright fire roaring in the wide chimney; but it had a somewhat ancient aspect, which the superstitiously inclined might have associated with possible ghosts. “We are in the East Wing, are we not?” young William asked. “This room seems quite strange to me. if I have ever been here before, I doubt it.” #RandolphHarris 7 of 13
“Very likely not, sir. Yes, this is the old East Wing that your mother once had boarded up. Your window looks out into the old stable-yard, where the kennel used to be in the time of your grandfather, when the Winchester was even a finer place than it is now. We are so full of company this winter, you see, sir, that we are obliged to make use of all these rooms. You will have no need to feel lonesome. There is Captain and Mrs. Foster in the next room to this, and the two Miss Griffins in the blue room opposite.” (Some believe that reopening the East Wing is what upset the spirits and caused the 1906 Earthquake.) Young William admired the perfect comfort of his chamber. Every modern appliance had been added to the ornate and ponderous furniture of an age gone by, and the combination produced a very pleasant effect. As he awoke in the morning and opened the door, Mrs. Winchester sailed in, looking radiant in a dark-green velvet dress richly trimmed with old point lace. Above her beauty, she had a charm of expression which was to most more rare and delightful than her beauty of feature and complexion. She put her arms around her son, and hugged him. “I have only this moment been told of your arrival, my dear William,” she said; “you look just like your father. My dear child, I have been looking forward so anxiously to your coming, and I should not have liked to see you for the first time before all those people. Welcome home. Remember, William, this house is always to be your home, whenever you have need of one.” William, being a hunting man. Had, indeed, a secret horror of the sport; for more than one scion of the house had perished untimely in the hunting-field. #RandolphHarris 8 of 13
The family had not been altogether a lucky one, in spite of its wealth and prosperity. It was not often that goodly heritage had descended to the Winchesters or their only son, William. Death in some form or other—on too many occasions a violent death—had come between the heir and his inheritance. And when one pondered on the dark pages in the story of the house, many wonder if Mrs. Winchester was ever troubled by morbid forebodings about her only and fondly loved son. Was there a ghost at the Winchester—that spectral visitant without which the state and plendour of a grand old house seem scarcely complete? Yes, many have heard vague hints of some shadowy presence that had been seen on rare occasions within the precincts of the Winchester mansion. Those whom were questioned were prompt to assure investigators that they had seen nothing. They had heard stories of the past—foolish legends, most likely, not worth listening to. On the property, there was once a stable-yard, a spacious quadrangle, surrounded by the closed doors of stable and dog-kennels: low massive buildings of grey stones, with the ivy creeping over them here and there, and with an ancient moss-grown look, that gave them a weird kind of interest. This range of stabling must have been disguised for a long time. The stables that were more recently used were a pile of handsome red-brick buildings at the other extremity of the house, to the rear of the music room, and forming a striking feature in the back view of the Winchester. According to legend, some believed that spectral entities, had been haunting the Winchester estate for centuries. Several large black dogs, with eyes large as saucers, or something flaming, appear and disappear, often without a trace. In many of the legends, the dogs are malevolent: assaulting guests, frightening livestock to death, attacking other dogs, and heralding death or disaster. Perhaps that is why the heirs of Winchester who have come to an untimely end have all died tragically. Oliver Winchester was killed in a dual. William Winchester I was murdered; and William Winchester II broke his back on his return home to the Winchester Estate. #RandolphHarris 9 of 13
The butler concealed the death of William Winchester II from Sarah, telling her simply that he was called away and said he would never return. Her heart was so broken that she wrote him out of existence, as if her had never been born. After the heartbreaking news that her only son has abandoned her, Mrs. Winchester was sitting in her blue séance room; half meditating, half dozing, mixing broken snatches of thought with brief glimpses of dreaming, when she was startled into wakefulness by a sound that was strange to her. It was a huntsman’s horn—a few low plaintive noes on a huntsman’s horn—notes which had a strange far-away sound, that was more unearthly than anything her ears ever heard. She thought of the music in Der Freischutz; but the weirdest snatch of melody Weber ever wrote had not so ghastly a sound as these few simple noes conveyed to her ear. She stood transfixed, listening to that awful music. It had grown dusk, her fire was almost out, and the room in shadow. As she listened, a light suddenly flashed on the wall before her. The light was as unearthly as the sound—a light that never shone from Earth or Sky. She ran to the window; for his ghastly shimmer flashed through the window upon the opposite wall. The great gates of the stable-yard were open, and men in scarlet coats were riding in, a pack of hounds crowding in before them, obedient to the huntsman’s whip. The whole scene was gleams of a lantern carried by one of the men. It was this lantern which had shone upon the tapestried wall. She saw the stable doors opened one after another; gentlemen and grooms alighting from their horses; the dogs driven into their kennel; the helpers hurrying to and fro; and that strange wan lantern-light glimmering hither and tither was the gathering dusk. #RandolphHarris 10 of 13
However, there was no sound of horse’s hoof or of human voices—not one yelp or cry from the vicious looking hounds with flaming eyes. Since those faint far-away sounds of the horn had died out in the distance, the ghastly silence had been unbroken. As Mrs. Winchester stood at her window quite calmly and watched while the group of men and animals in the yard below noiselessly dispersed. There was nothing supernatural in the manner of their disappearance. The figures did not vanish nor melt into empty air. One by one she saw the horses led into their separate quarters; one by one the redcoats strolled out of the gates, and the grooms departed, some one way, some another. The scene, but for its noiselessness, was natural enough; and had she been a stranger in her own home, she might have fancied that those figures were real—those stables in full occupation. However, she knew that stable-yard and all its range of building to have been disused for more than half a century. Could she believe that, without an hour’s warning, the long-deserted quadrangle could be filled—the empty stalls tenanted? Had some hunting-party from the neighbourhood sought shelter there, glad to escape the pitiless rain? That was impossible, she thought. And yet the noiselessness, the awful sound of that horn—the strange unearthly gleam of that lantern! A cold sweat broke out on her forehead, and she trembled in every limb. Mrs. Winchester was pale as a ghost and trembling. Mrs. Winchester had kept the secret. That evening, the butler came to her. “Mrs. Winchester, there is no use in trying to hide it from you any longer. Your son was killed in the hunting-field, brought home dead one December night, an hour after his father and the rest of the party had come home to the Winchester. He was found by a labouring-man, poor lad, lying in a ditch with his back broken, and his horse beside him staked.” #RandolphHarris 11 of 13
Shortly after Mr. Winchester Sr. never rode to hounds again, though he was passionately fond of hunting. Dogs and horses were sold, and the north quadrangle had been empty from that day. Some evil have come upon the Winchester mansion, it was not in human power to prevent its coming. Some had beheld the shadows of the dead. Sudden terror overcomes some visitors, even to this day. There are reports of an ominous danger, as people’s hearts grow cold while on tour. Staff have been startled by seeing a man, with is hat in his hand not in evening costume; a man with a pale anxious-looking face, peering cautiously into the room. Their first thought is of evil; but in the next moment than man disappears, and they see no more of him. Sometimes when flowers are placed in the house, people see the drooping moments later and lights dying out one by one in the brass sconces against the walls. It is no wonder Mrs. Winchester shut herself from the outer World, burying herself almost as completely as a hermit in its cell. While great wealth brings some people joy, there is some times a hefty fee. Be careful what you wish for, you never know who or what you might invite in your doors. I invoke and move thee, O thou Spirit Gusion and being exalted above ye in the power of the Most High, I say unto thee, Obey! in the name Beralensis, Baldachinesis, Paumachia, and Apologiae Sedes: and of the mighty ones who govern, spirits, Liachidae and ministers of the House of Death: and by the Chief Prince of the seat of Apologia in the Ninth Legion, I do invoke thee and by invoking conjure thee. And being exalted above ye in the power of the Most High, I say unto thee, Obey! in the name of him who spake and it was, to whom all creatures and things obey. #RandolphHarris 12 of 13
Moreover I, whom God made in the likeness of God, who is the creator according to his living breath, stir thee up in the name which is the voice of wonder of the mighty God, El, strong and unspeakable, O thou Spirit Gusion. And I say to thee obey, in the name of him who spake and it was; and in every one ye, O ye names of God! Moreover in the names Adonai, El, Elohim, Elohi, Ehyeh Asher Ehyeh, Zabaoth, Elion, Iah, Tetragrammaton, Shaddai, Lord God Most High, I stir thee up; and in our strength I say Obey! O Spirit Gusion. Appear unto His servants in a moment; before the circle in the likeness of man; and visit me in peace. And in the ineffable name Tetragrammaton Iehovah, I say, Obey! whose mighty sound being exalted in power the pillars are divided, the winds of the firmament groan aloud; the sire burns not; the Earth moves in Earthquakes; and all things of the house of Heaven and Earth and the dwelling-place of darkness are as Earthquakes, and are in torment, and are confounded in thunder. Come forth, O Spirit Gusion, in a moment: let thy dwelling-place be empty, apply unto us the secrets of Truth and obey my power. Come forth, visit us in peace, appear unto my eyes; be friendly: Obey the living breath! For I stir thee up in the name of God of Truth who liveth for ever, Helioren. Obey the living breath, therefore continually unto the end as my thoughts appear to my eyes: therefore be friendly: speaking the secrets of Truth in voice and in understanding. Let it be so, Truefold, whatever ill news has come to us we will hear it together. He put is arm round his wife’s waist. Both were pale as marble, both stood in stony stillness waiting for the bow that was to fall upon them. It is said that perhaps you will see a glimpse of Mrs. Winchester and Mr. Winchester, Sr., while on tour, if you repeat the invocation thirteen times before your visit. Life is broken for her, there hah passed a glory from Earth, and that upon all pleasures and joys of this World she looks with the solemn calm of one for whom all things are dark with the shadow of a great sorrow. #RandolphHarris 13 of 13
Winchester Mystery House
A 160-room mansion built to appease the spirits who died at the hands of the Winchester Rifle 👻
We’re one week away from Friday the 13th! Missed out on tickets for Flashlight Tours? Don’t worry, we have ghoulishly fun plans All Hallows’ Eve 👻🎃🍿🏠
All Hallows’ Eve:
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The Most Beautiful Adventures are Not those We Go to Seek!
Powerful ideas do not die with those who gave them birth, as long as those seeds are planted in their followers. At this point in history, Jesus is surrounded with flocks wherever He is, but all is not well. Sometimes one will feel that one is being led into an experience, a mood, or an idea. At other times one may feel oneself being drawn inward quite deeply as if the very roots of one’s egoic being were penetrated; more rarely as if one has been drawn beyond the ego itself. When this consciousness takes hold of a human, it takes one by surprise. Infinity is so utterly different from what one was experiencing a few minutes earlier that its wonder, its truth, its beauty, its love fills one abruptly, as if in descent from the skies. The element of surprise and the delight of novelty are present and give the Glimpse its rapturous turn. The glimpse may come to one with a suddenness which makes the surrounding circumstances quite incongruous. The glimpse takes you unawares. When the humor of a particular situation or scene, happening or idea strikes a person one may burst out into sudden laughter. It is not long-forming but explosive, not built-up like a wall brick-by-brick but flashed across the darkness like lighting. One’s mind has this possibility of an abrupt move, and unexpected leap. Just so does it still possess this same possibility with regard to the discovery of truth. Enlightenment is always “sudden” in the sense that during meditation or reverie or relaxation the preliminary thought-concentrating gustatory period usually moves through consciousness quite slowly until, at some unexpected moment, there is an abrupt deepening, followed by a slipping into another dimension, a finding oneself alive in a new atmosphere. #RandolphHarris 1 of 21
A passing sign of progress in arousing latent forces and a physical indication that one is on the eve of noteworthy mystical experience may be a sudden unexpected vibratory movement in the region of the abdomen, in the solar plexus. It usually comes when one has been relaxed for a short time from the daily cares, or after retiring to bed for the night. The diaphragmatic muscle will appear to tremble violently and something will seem to surge to and fro like a snake behind the solar plexus. This bodily agitation will soon subside and be followed by a pleasant calm and out of this calm there will presently arise a sense of unusual power, of heightened control over the terrestrial nature and human self. With this there may also come a clear intuition about some truth needed at the time and a revelatory expansion of consciousness into supersensual reality. These moods descend without invitation and depart without permission. This is the crucial point when ordinary compulsive mental activity fades away and stillness supervenes, perhaps very briefly, perhaps for some minutes. For some time, one is tense with the feeling of being about to receive a new revelation. Many are happy to make the trip to the Heavenly Kingdom, but few there are who will cart and haul that cross of Jesus’s. Many enjoy the sweet sentiments He utters, but few, that tart words He sometimes has to say. Many will wolf down the food with the Famous Man, as Jesus son of Sirach put it in his Book of Wisdom (6.10), but few will join Him in the fasts. They are all there in the good times, but few will take on the tough tasks He inevitably asks. #RandolphHarris 2 of 21
Yes, many like to be seen breaking bread with Jesus but, as Matthew has described (20.22), they are nowhere to be found when the passion cup is passed. Many are wowed by His miracles; few are wooed by His cross. Many just love chatting with Jesus so long as He is not rude about their not embracing His rood. What is the moral? Many praise Jesus Christ and bless Him as long as the good times roll. However, when He absents Himself for a few moments or just goes off for a while to pray, they become bellicose, then lachrymose, then comatose. We should love Jesus for His own sweet sake, and not because of any magic He will do in our behalf. And so when the bad times rock, we will bless Him as though the good times had never left. Even if He will never want to give us consolation again, we will still praise Him and thank Him for what He once did. Here are some questions for us. How can the love of Jesus, pure as it is, have no particular price tag, not terrestrial taint? Can those who spend all their time hunting down consolations not be called mercenaries? Are not those who think of nothing but their own comfort and profit hoarders of stuff rather than lovers of Christ? Can anyone be found who wants to serve God without counting the cost? Some considerations. Rare is the person who is so spiritual that one is denuded oneself of every material thing! Is there anyone who is truly poor in spirit and bereft of every creaturely thing? Can any of us be discovered whose interior life is like the Proverbial “gift of great price from a foreign land” (31.10)? If a Devout gave all one’s substance, that is good, but it is not everything. If one’s penitential practices were punishing and public, that is good too, but one still has a long way to go. #RandolphHarris 3 of 21
If one understands all knowledge, that is fine, but there is so much more to know. “If I speak in the tongues of humans and of angles, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or clanging cymbal,” reports 1 Corinthians 13.1. Even if one has great virtue and indeed flaming devotion, it is still a long way to Purgatory. Why? For one has one step farther to go and according to Luke 10.41-42, “you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed.” It is the most important step of all. What is that? That one leave behind not only all created things, but also oneself. That is to say, dump one’s selfish pride by the side of the road. Empty out one’s petty pockets. And when one has done all this, which one knows has yet to be done, then and only then will one come to the realization that of oneself one is nothing. One day we ay come to think we are rather skilled in the service of the Lord. Some of our peers may even encourage us to think we are slick. However, even if there is some truth to it, we should still describe ourselves as just another clumsy oaf. “When you have done everything that is required of you, repeat after me,” Revealed Truth has spoken in the Gospel of Luke, “we are truly the bumbling and stumbling servants,” (17.10). We have to be truly poor in body and spirit before we can say with the Psalmist, “Yes, I am a leper, and a pauper too” (25.16). Nevertheless, no one is richer or stronger than the person who knows how to leave one’s material self and all one’s trash behind and place oneself on the rutted, deeply rutted, road to Humbletown. Each glimpse is not just a repeat performance, it is a fresh new experience. Each time the glimpse comes, it is as if it had never come before, so fresh, so sparkling is its never-failing wonder. #RandolphHarris 4 of 21
The higher awareness comes on imperceptibly and little by little. However, as it silently gathers itself, like a cloud, it also breaks like a renovating cloud—vehement, sparkling, and splashing. The belief, which prevails in Japan, China, and other lands, in a sudden abrupt enlightenment when one thinks quietly or says aloud, “Ah! so this is IT,” has a factual basis. This satori, as the Japanese call it, may be either a temporary or a permanent glimpse. The most beautiful adventures are not those we go to see. Such is the coming of a glimpse—at the moment of arrival, unsought. Although such glimpses come mostly when a human is alone, come in quiet solitude, they need not do so. They have sometimes come to one in a crowded street or on a well-filled ship. The signs of this visitation are not always the same. It may delicately brush one with the feeling of its presence or forcefully stimulate one with the strength of its being. The beginner usually has to go through an emotional experience in order to receive a mystical experience, but the proficient is under no necessity to do so. It comes into the orb of one’s awareness as an unstruggled and unsensational happening, so easily, so smoothly, that there is no dramatic emotion. The sensitive informed and experienced person may get intimations, may feel the glimpse coming even before the actual joyous event. In tat moment one feels on the very verge of eternity, about to lose oneself in its impersonal depths. When the opportunity to gain a glimpse of one’s Overself draws near, it will be foreshadowed by certain happenings, either of an inward or an outward nature, or both. The book of life may be understood in two senses. In one sense as the inscription of those who are chosen to life; thus we now speak of the book of life. #RandolphHarris 5 of 21
In another sense the inscription of those things which lead us to life ay be called the book of life; and this also is twofold, either as of things to be done; and thus the Old and New Testament are called a book of life; or of things already done, and thus that divine energy by which it happens that to each one one’s deeds will be recalled to memory, is spoken of as the book of life. Thus that also may be called the book of war, whether it contains the names inscribed of those chosen for military service; or treats of the art of warfare, or relates the deeds of soldiers. It is the custom to inscribe, not those who are rejected, but those who are chosen. Whence there is no book of death corresponding to reprobation; as the book of life to predestination. Predestination and the book of life are different aspects of the same thing. For this latter implies the knowledge of predestination. The book of life implies a conscription or a knowledge of those chosen to life. Now a human is chosen for something which does not belong to one by nature; and again that to which a human is chosen has the aspect of an end. For a soldier is not chosen or inscribed merely to put on armor, but to fight; since this is the proper duty to which military service is directed. However, the life of glory is an end exceeding human nature. Wherefore, strictly speaking, the book of life regards the life of glory. The divine life, even considered as a life of glory, is natural to God; whence in His regard there is no election, and in consequence no book of life; for we do not say that anyone is chosen to possess the power of sense, or any of those things that are consequent on nature. For there is no election, nor a book of life, as regard the life of nature. The life of grace has the aspect, no of an end, but of something directed towards an end. #RandolphHarris 6 of 21
Hence nobody is said to be chosen to the life of grace, except so far as the life of grace is directed to glory. For this reason those who, possessing grace, fail to obtain glory, are not said to be chosen simply, but relatively. Likewise they are not said to be written in the book of life simply, but relatively; that is to say, hat it is in the ordination and knowledge of God that they are to have some relation to eternal life, according to their participation in grace. “Let them be blotted out from the book of living,” reports Psalms 68.29. Some have said that none could be blotted out of the book of life as a matter of fact, but only in the opinion of humans. For it is customary in the Scriptures to say that something is done when it becomes known. Thus some are said to be written in the book of life, inasmuch as humans think they are written therein, on account of the present righteousness they see in them; but when it becomes evident, either in this World or in he next, that they have fallen from that state of righteousness, they are then said to be blotted out. And thus a gloss explains the passage: “Let them be blotted out of the book of the living.” However, because not to be blotted out of the book of life is placed among the rewards of the just according to the text, “One that shall overcome, shall thus be clothed in white garments, and I will not blot one’s name out of the book of life,” reports Apocalypse 3.5. And what is promised to holy humans, is not merely something in the opinion of humans, it can therefore be said that to be blotted out, and not blotted out, of the book of life is not only to be referred to the opinion of humans, but to the reality of the fact. For the book of life is not only to be referred to the opinion of humans, but to the reality of the fact. For the book of life is the inscription of those ordained to eternal life, to which one is directed from two sources; namely, from predestination, which direction never fails, and from grace; for whoever has grace, by this very fact becomes fitted for eternal life. This direction fails sometimes; because some are directed by possessing grace, to obtain eternal life, yet they fail to obtain it through moral sin. #RandolphHarris 7 of 21
Therefore those who are ordained to possess eternal life through divine predestination are written down in the book of life simply, because they are written therein to have eternal life in reality; such are never blotted out from the book of life. Those, however, who are ordained to eternal life, not through divine predestination, but through grace, are said to be written in the book of life not simply, but relatively, for they are written therein not to have eternal life in itself, but in its cause only. Yet though these latter can be said to be blotted out of the book of life, this blotting out must not be referred to God, as if God foreknew a thing, and afterwards knew it not; but to the thing known, namely, because God knows one is first ordained to eternal life, and afterwards not ordained when one falls from grace. The act of blotting out does not refer to the book of life as regards God’s foreknowledge, as if in God there were any change; but as regards things foreknown, which can change. Although things are immutably in God, yet in themselves they are subject to change. To this it is that the blotting out of the book of life refers. The way in which one is said to be blotted out of the book of life is that in which one is said to be written therein anew; either in the opinion of human, or because one begins again to have relation towards eternal life through grace; which also is included in the knowledge of God, although not anew. Probability is founded on the presumption of a resemblance between those objects of which we have had experience and those of which we have had none; and therefore it is impossible that this presumption can arise from probability. The argument up to date shows that miracles are possible and that there is nothing antecedently ridiculous in the stories which say that God has sometimes performed them. #RandolphHarris 8 of 21
This does not mean, of course, hat we are committed to believing all stories of miracles. Most stories about miraculous events are probably false: if it comes to that, most stories about natural events are false. Lies, exaggerations, misunderstandings and hearsay make up perhaps more than half of all that is said and written in the World. We must therefore find a criterion whereby to judge any particular story of the miraculous. In one sense, of course, our criterion is plain. Those stories are to be accepted for which the historical evidence is sufficiently good. However, then, as we saw at the outset, the answer to the question, “How much evidence should we require for this story,” depends on our answer to the question, “How far is this story intrinsically probable?” We must therefore find a criterion of probability. The ordinary procedure of the modern historian, even if one admits the possibility of miracle, is to admit no particular instance of it until every possibility of “natural” explanation has been tried and failed. That is, one will accept the most improbable “natural” explanations rather than say that a miracle occurred. Collective hallucinations, hypnotism of unconsenting spectators, widespread instantaneous conspiracy in lying by persons not otherwise known to be liars and not likely to gain by the lie—all these are known to be very improbably events: so improbably that, except for the special purpose of excluding a miracle, they are never suggested. However, they are preferred to be the admission of a miracle. Such a procedure is, from the purely historical point of view, sheer midsummer madness unless we start by knowing that any Miracles whatever is more improbable than the most improbable natural event. Do we know this? We must distinguish the different kinds of improbability. Since miracles are, by definition, rarer than other events, it is obviously improbable beforehand that one will occur at any given place and time. In that sense every miracle is improbable. #RandolphHarris 9 of 21
It is immensely improbable beforehand that a pebble dropped from the stratosphere over London will hit any given spot, or that any one particular person will win a large lottery. However, the report that the pebble has landed outside such and such a shop or that Mr. So-and-So has won the lottery is not at all incredible. When you consider the immense number of meetings and fertile union between ancestors which were necessary in order that you should be born, you perceive that it was once immensely improbable that such a person as you should come to exist: but one you are here, the report of your existence is not in the least incredible. With probability of this kind—antecedent probability of chances—we are not there concerned. Our business is with historical probability. Ever since Hume’s famous Essay it has been believed that historical statements about miracles are the most intrinsically improbable of all historical statements. According to Hume, probability rests on what may be called the majority vote of our past experiences. The more often a thing has been known to happen, the more probable it is that it should happen again; and the less often the less probable. Now the regularity of Nature’s course, says Hume, is supported by something better than the majority vote of past experiences: it is supported by their unanimous vote, or, as Hume says, by “firm and unalterable experience.” There is, in fact, “uniform experience” against Miracle; otherwise, says Hume, it would not be a Miracle. A miracle is therefore the most improbable of all events. It is always more probable that the witnesses were lying or mistaken than that a miracle occurred. #RandolphHarris 10 of 21
Now of course we must agree with Hume that if there is absolutely “uniform experience” against miracles, if in other words they have never happened, why then they never have. Unfortunately we know the experience against them to be uniform only if we know that all reports of them are false. And we can know all the reports to be false only if we know already that miracles have never occurred. In fact, we are arguing in a circle. There is also an objection to Hume which leads us deeper into our problem. The whole idea of Probability (as Hume understands it) depends on the principle of the Uniformity of Nature. Unless Nature always goes on in the same way, the fact that a thing had happened ten million times would not make it a whit more probable that it would happen again. And how do we know the Uniformity of Nature? A moment’s thought shows that we do not know it by experience. We observe many regularities in Nature. However, of course all the observations that humans have made or will make while the race lasts cover only a minute fraction of the events that actually go on. Our observations would therefore be of no use unless we felt sure that Nature when we are no watching her behaves in the same way as when we are: in other words, unless we believed in the Uniformity of Nature. Experience therefore cannot prove uniformity, because uniformity has to be assumed before experience proves anything. And mere length of experience does not help matters. It is no good saying, “Each fresh experience confirms our belief in uniformity and therefore we reasonably expect that it will always be confirmed”; for that argument works only on the assumption of Uniformity under a new name. Can we say that Uniformity is at any rate very probable? Unfortunately not. We have just seen that all probabilities depend on it. Unless Nature is uniform, nothing is either probable or improbable. And clearly the assumption which you have to make before there is any such thing as probability cannot itself be probable. The odd thing is that no human knew this better than Hume. His Essay on Miracles is quite inconsistent with the more radical, and honourable, scepticism of his main work. #RandolphHarris 11 of 21
Throughout the Second Wave era the mass media grew more and more powerful. Today a startling change is taking place. As the Third Wave thunders in, the mass media, far from expanding their influence, are suddenly being forced to share it. They are being beaten back on many fronts at once by what I call the “de-massified media.” Newspapers provide the first example. The oldest of the Second Wave mass media, newspapers are losing their readers and staff. The estimated total U.S. daily newspaper circulation (print and digital combined) in 2020 was 24.3 million for weekday and 25.8 million for Sunday, each down by 6 percent from the previous year. Nor were such losses due merely to the rise of television. Each of today’s mass-circulation dailies now faces increasing competition from burgeoning flock of mini-circulation weeklies, biweeklies, and so-called “shoppers” that serve not the metropolitan mass market but specific neighbourhoods and communities within it, providing far more localized advertising and news. Having reached saturation, the big-city mass-circulation daily is in deep trouble. De-massified media are snapping at its heels. The United States of America has experienced and explosion of electronic journals and mini-magazines—thousands of them aimed at small, special-interest, regional, global, or even local markets. And it is not all bad news. Their programs focus on things their producers like. They are not really targeting an audience, but producing and sharing things they are interested and that they believe will help others, so their content is not the same as the doom and gloom of the mass media, which people find appealing because no one wants made to feel sad, fearful or anxious. #RandolphHarris 12 of 21
For instance, pilots and aviation buffs today can chose among literally scores of periodicals edited just foe them. Teenagers, scuba divers, retired people, women athletes, collectors of antique camera, tennis enthusiasts, skiers, and skateboarders each have their own press. Every organization, community group, political or religious cult and cultlet today can afford to produce is own publication. Even smaller groups churn out periodicals on the Internet that have become ubiquitous in American and International offices, homes, and classrooms. The news media and magazines have lost their powerful influence in national life, especially with people trying to safe trees and also the fact people now know news is not necessarily true nor honest work. It is entertainment which is trying to compete with fictional television shows. Many people, however, have the intentions to maintain the peaceful enjoyment of what belongs to one, and prefers on every occasion the public utility to one’s own interest. Between the 1920s and the end of the second World War, the very limited amount of African American suburbanization generally took one of two forms. The first was the all-African American suburb. Almost all of these suburbs were poor, and the majority were unincorporated. In the south, it was common for non-European Americas to live in small hamlets and less-developed areas on the city’s periphery. These low-income shantytown neighbourhoods often even lacked community water and sewage and were suburban in name only. While such small communities were technically in the suburbs, socially and economically they were not of the suburbs. An example of this type of suburb was the African American suburb of Kinloch, 6 miles outside the city limits of St. Louis. Kinloch, surrounded by more affluent European America suburbs, did not become incorporated until 1948. It was typical of early African American suburbs insofar as because of a limited tax base, it had poor school, potholed roads, and minimal government services. #RandolphHarris 13 of 21
The roads from Ferguson, the suburb east of Kinloch, actually stopped short of Kinloch at an overgrown easement only to start up again on the Kinloch side of the border. As late as 1970 some of these African American “suburban” neighbourhoods could be seen south of Washington, D.C., across the district line. During the interwar period, some solid working class-African American suburbs also existed, such as Robbins, southwest of Chicago. At this time the Federal Housing Administration (FHA) directly supported segregated housing by refusing to make loans in other than all-one-race areas. Until 1950 FHA regulations specially prohibited making loans that would permit racial integration. The Federal Housing Administration’s official manuals cautioned against infiltration of inharmonious racial and national groups, a lower class of inhabitants, or the presence of incompatible racial elements, in the new neighbourhood. Thus, federal policies prohibited loans that would encourage the integration of neighbourhoods. During World War II, the FHA consistently refused to insure war-housing projects for African American workers. The formal regulations were not changed until the Kennedy years of the early 1960s, and the policies really did not change until the Open Housing Act of 1968 barred housing discrimination. However, the outlawing of discriminatory policies did not eliminate informal practices of racial steering, where African Americans were shown housing only in areas already having African American residents. The second form of African American suburbanization prior to World War II included small communities of African Americans found in the most elite suburbs. #RandolphHarris 14 of 21
African Americans living in such suburbs were not equal-status homeowners. Some of them did not have professional jobs. The 1930s census showed, for example, that along Chicago’s prestigious North Shore, 5 percent of Glencoe’s and 4.3 percent of Kenilworth’s residents were African American. Overtime some of the African Americans without professional jobs purchased or built small homes in the less desirable sections of the community. Such African American populations contained the seeds of social change. For example, Evanston, on Chicago’s North Shore, as of 1930 listed 7.8 percent of is population as African American. Evanston as of that date already had a separate aspiring middle-class African American neighbourhood for those working on the North Shore. Overtime this nucleus would grow to be a substantial portion of the Evanston community. One reason for the new interest in human spirituality is that its source in intuition is radically different from the rational, densely factual nature of science and therefore generates feelings. New Age Spirituality—alternative and usually individualistic forms of spiritual consciousness illustrated by New Age bookstore sections—feeds off both waning of communal religion and the advance of science. In an age where many religions—and ever more—coexist, religious dogma may seem less credible. Yet science fails to answer our ultimate questions: Why are we here? How should be live? What is our ultimate destiny? If the old faith seems unbelievable and the new science seems to demystify life, then people will find mystery and meaning in new places. It has been said that when some people cease believing in Gog, they do not believe nothing, they believe anything. Nature abhors a spiritual vacuum. The quest for meaning is fundamental to our being. The human mind has a genuine desire to plumb the depths of the unspoken, to find deeper significance and truth, to reach out to another realm of existence. #RandolphHarris 15 of 21
New Age “soft spirituality” is essentially irreligious. “I am not religious,” one hears, “but I am very spiritual.” This is the privatized spirituality of radical individualism, the solo spirituality of pop cultural. This is the spirituality of religion, minus the things one does not like about religion, such as the authoritative status of sacred texts and communally shared beliefs. New Age spirituality differs from biblical spirituality not only in its individualism but also in its understanding of human nature. Biblical spirituality places its most basic distinction between all of creation (both people and animals) and God who is creator. In the Old Testament book of Isaiah God declares, “I am God; there is none like me.” The Holy Spirit is given to provide us with a deeper knowledge of both God and a wisdom that goes beyond rational and scientific forms of knowing. However, biblical spirituality still maintains the distinction between God and mortal, finite humans. New Age spirituality replies that we are emanations of God: The divine is within you. You are immortal. You are a soul who inhabits your body, and thus able to travel out of body, read others’ minds, and glimpse the future. Your spirit or soul may also have inhabited another being, and may again be reincarnated in someone to come. You are undying and capable of communicating with those who, also undying, have passed to the other side, the spirit World. You do not need God to give you hope of life beyond death, because there is no death. You are already an eternal spirit. At your body’s death, you will meet a gentle being of light (which already had been experienced by those near-death survivours whose spirits temporarily vacated their bodies). #RandolphHarris 16 of 21
New Age spirituality offers other comforting messages. Angels protect us. There are no fortunate random coincidences, but rather angelic or divine interventions. Evil is not real (though some are spiritually impoverished). Fear, loneliness, and pain can be dismissed. Given positive attitudes, optimum health, serene bliss, and joy of pleasures of the flesh awaits us. And then there is the New Age elevation of intuition. IF you feel it, it is true. Truth is much less a matter of logic and verification than of personal experience and testimony. Neale Donald Walsch illustrates this radical individualism in his disdain for history and community and in his elevation of the individua self. Walsch has had “conversations with God” (so reads the title of the book he has written), and here is what God says: The wisdom of faith traditions is “not authoritative.” So “listen to your feelings. Listen to your Highest Thoughts. Listen to your experience. Whenever any one of these differ from what you have been told by your teachers, or read in your book, forget the words.” We are being held together by some kind of bonding or gluing, or held together by some central unifying force that rules the other parts and holds them together as the force of gravity does or the focus around which perspectives organize themselves—such a power, central and hierarchically organized, is postulated by Plato and has been the most generally accepted metaphor in Western thought from its beginnings. No doubt there are minds almost entirely held together in one or other of these ways. As a rule, however, which metaphor is most useful at any time depends on a number of factors: the kind of person under discussion, the kind of structures which are falling apart, and so on. #RandolphHarris 17 of 21
When we think of neural connections, and when we think of the association of ideas, we tend to think of structures held together by connecting bonds. Neural connections exemplify this kind of cohesion. Sense-impressions build up into perceptions, which integrate into concepts and ever more complex structures. Variations in integration and coherence are seen to determine structure so that the very nature of structure could be defined in terms of bonds—there are more neural associations within a structure than between structures. Regions of the personality are bonded together more or less strongly depending on the number of associations between them. The number of associations determines the extent of integration. A relative absence of associations defines a gap or fissure—the fewer the associations, the wider the split. As anyone knows who has glued things, the things to be stuck together need to be held firmly in a kind of frame until the glue holds. Then the frame is no longer needed. The concepts of boundary and space are boundaries and frames of this kind. Frames provide restrictions or limitations which can be used to further the integration within. A picture must be painted on a certain canvas; a poem must be written in sonnet form. Within the frame there is space for a creative live. When there is a frame that gives space and protection, all the resonances and echoes and reverberation of an individual’s experiences have time to work themselves out. They do not get lost; they are not cut off prematurely. Ego-relatedness normally provides a frame. It provides the safety within which various experiences may come to be connected and associated, although they occurred at different times in different contexts. #RandolphHarris 18 of 21
Good parenting provides the frame within which psychological associations can ramify and become strong. In this way, good parenting leads to personalities which have strong and well-integrated structures. With less ego-relatedness, the individual has less space and time to get this inter-connecting process going, and so it retains more dissociated experiences. When people experience themselves as lacking a containment, something is rushing through them—a noise, a sensation, an impression—which they cannot hold on to. This sense, of something rushing through, may be how we experience unintegrated sensory streams of unprocessed uncontained stimulation. It is what falling apart sometimes feels like: what is going on does not make sense to us. Not making sense is the same as not being organized into a meaningful pattern. Or we may be unable to find a framework of meaning into which to organize what is happening. Boundaries seems to facilitate organization; insecure boundaries seem often to hinder it. There is an interesting connection between uncontained state and the autistic individual’s desperate clutching of hard objects. In some states of mind, holding one to something with firm contour might feel much like being something with firm contours. The common element would be there is something firm for holding something formless. Firm contours seem to be needed, whether they belong to the infant (in us) or they belong to whatever the individual feels held and contained by. Whether the something firm is my skin or yours seems less important than the fact that it prevents me feeling a rushing shapeless flowing away. #RandolphHarris 19 of 21
The function of the boundary frame are reminiscent of Pribram’s “bag of skin,” and Winnicott’s “membrane.” Our skins provide a compelling metaphor for such holding functions, more flexible and organic than the idea of a frame. The skin protects. The vulnerable skinless self and its care, means that especially when an infant, something or someone is needed to give one space and protect against impingement from without, and also from within—from loneliness, pain, rage. Failure in the holding environment, perhaps because of illness in the mother (or caregiver), can mean that the individual’s line of life is interrupted and its development hindered by the need for defence against primitive anxiety. However, it can also be seen that failure of the father to protect the mother in the crucial weeks after one’s birth can contribute to this state of affairs. If the circle made by the father, or by some person fulfilling the father’s function is broken, the mother cannot abandon herself without anxiety to her infant’s needs. The parents, who are normally the child’s holding environment, may at times be fiercely tested, especially at times when feelings are strong. Once again, we have reached a set of ideas where parallels can be perceived between what good parents do and what psychotherapists do. The reader has probably practiced at recognizing these passages by now. It is important that whoever hold the infant (of the older child or the adolescent or the adult) is strong enough to hold on to, either to prevent explosion and fragmentation, or to form the framework for such disintegration and for subsequent integration. #RandolphHarris 20 of 21
The survival of the mother who does not retaliate, together with the father who comes to represent the indestructible environment, allows for freedom of the instinctual life—the source of spontaneity—within the family circle. In the earliest days, it is the caring adult whose insightful and coping skills protect, as with a shielding skin, the helpless and defenceless infant. In favourable circumstances, however, these functions will gradually be taken over by the competent developing infant. Blessed sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit of the garden, suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood. Please teach us to care and not to care. Please teach us to sit still, even among these rocks. Our peace in one’s will and even among these rocks, sister, mother, and spirit of the river, spirit of the sea. Please suffer me not to be separated and please let my cry come unto Thee. O inscribe all the children of Thy covenant for a happy life. May all the living do homage unto Thee forever and praise Thy name in truth, O God, who are our salvation and our help. Blessed be Thou, O Lord, Beneficent One, unto whom our thanks are due. Grant lasting peace unto America Thy people, for Thou art the Sovereign Lord of peace; and may it be good in Thy sight to bless Thy people America at all times with Thy peace. In this book of life, blessing, peace and ample sustenance, may we, together with all Thy people, the house of America, be remembered and inscribed before Thee for a happy life and for peace. Blessed art Thou, O Lord, who establisest peace. In every system throughout antiquity there is an ascetic preliminary side which purifies the mind and the body and then only does meditation start. Without such purification, that is, asceticism, all the dangers of meditation—hallucination, misuse of occult powers, egotistic fancies, mediumship, and so on—are free to raise, but with it there is better protection against them. #RandolphHarris 21 of 21
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Randolph Harris II International Institute 