One problem which particularly disturbed thoughtful listeners was bluntly expressed by a newspaper editor who asked, “If this Bridey Murphy business, with all that it implies, is true, then why am I hearing about it for the first time from a businessman? How can it be possible that some psychiatrists are not running into the same thing?”
In the first place, it should be made clear that some psychiatrists have been “running into the same thing” for years. Brief reference has already been made to the British psychiatrist, Dr. Sir Alexander Cannon, who long ago encountered the principle of reincarnation. This knighted scientist, the holder of an imposing list of degrees, wrote as follows:
For years the theory of reincarnation was a nightmare to me, and I did my best to disprove it and even argued with my trance subjects to the effect that they were talking nonsense, and yet as the years went by one subject after another told me the same story in spite of different and varied conscious beliefs, in effect until now, well over a thousand cases have been so investigated I have to admit that there is such a thing as reincarnation.1
Nor does this man stand alone. There are, indeed, a number of scientists whose experiments have led them to the same conclusion. The first part of the answer, then, is that some specialists do know about this other dimension and have been publicizing their findings. For some reason, however, their reports have never been circulated as extensively as they might have been.
The other part of the answer concerns those scientific workers who know considerably more than they admit. But for this they can hardly be blamed; it is the code of the sophisticated. One young person, explaining her silence after she discovered evidence of rebirth, summarized her position with these words: “All this experience I kept to myself as a profound secret, for, young as I was, I realized what judgment the world would pass upon the narrator of such a story.”
Kipling, too, had given some thought to this same problem: “I saw with sorrow that men would mutilate and garble the story; that rival creeds would turn it upside down till, at last, the western world which clings to the dread of death more closely than the hope of life, would set it aside as an interesting superstition….”2
It is not surprising, then, that we do not hear more from professional quarters. Many well-established specialists likely conclude that they would have more to lose than to gain by evincing an active interest in this subject.
A businessman, on the other hand, need show no such reticence in disclosing the results of his experiments. It is doubtful, in other words, that the tonnage of steel products distributed by my company will decline as a consequence of my experimentation.
In any event, there is good reason to believe that at last—during the next decade—we will be hearing a good deal more about these investigations from all quarters.
Another question that inevitably pops up is: If we have all had previous lifetime experiences, then why is it that we have no memory of them? Obviously I am not qualified to solve this problem. I can, however, at least point out what other researchers have theorized; and these hypotheses range from Conan Doyle’s comment that “such remembrance would enormously complicate our present life,” to the theory of another student, who contends that perhaps we might remember something of our past but that our training and conditioning, particularly in the Western world, has “washed our brains,” obliterating these memories.
The latter observer believes, in short, that many children carry memories of their prenatal past, but that these memories are gradually washed away by the repeated suggestion, both directly and indirectly, that all children are original creations at birth. (The power of conditioning by “brain washing” has been dramatically exploited, although for entirely different purposes, by the Communists who “re-educated” GI prisoners in Korea. The captives were at first inclined to laugh at the Red efforts, but the persistent, organized conditioning—hypnosis in slow motion—finally eroded away ideas and beliefs of some of our servicemen with a success that shocked the Western world.)
Even so, it seems that some persons do retain memories of a previous life. The example of the Indian girl, cited on this page, while more sensational than most cases, is not a rarity in oriental countries. In any event, our memory is not a true measure of whether we have had a prior existence. As one author wrote, “Doubtless the butterfly has no recollection of its previous life as a worm; but this defect in its memory does not change the facts, nor affect its identity.”3
The reason why we cannot remember our past should not, according to Rudolf Steiner, be our primary concern. “Not this we should ask,” he wrote, “but rather: ‘How may we attain such knowledge?’ ”
It must be conceded that science does not yet know how memory works. Meanwhile, few of us can remember even those events that occurred before the age of three. So how can we normally expect to recall memories of a prior existence? In this respect it is interesting to note that hypnosis often brings back the forgotten memories of infancy. (And victims of general amnesia, who seldom recall any prior events, often respond to hypnosis.)
The consensus of opinion on this topic would seem to be that, although we do not remember specific incidents of previous life episodes, we still carry over impressions, tendencies, capacities,4 and dispositions—subconscious checks and balances—which restrain us from repeating past mistakes and guide us in the eternal process of evolution.
Many times during discussions of this issue the charge has been made that the reincarnation principle was “unfair”—that to plod forward without a conscious record of our past is altogether unjustifiable. Whether we like or dislike the theory, however, is hardly the central issue. Our first job is to establish whether it is a fact.
In every group who listened to the Bridey Murphy regression, there was always at least one imaginative person who promptly perceived another possibility: “If you can regress her into the past, then what about taking her into the future? In short, what about age progression?“
For obvious reasons I have never tried to take a hypnotic subject into the future. Even if the subject’s “prophecies” turned out to be sheer nonsense, considerable anxiety might be aroused while she awaited the outcome of events. If, for instance, she “sees” at some particular time in her future a hospital, sickness, injury—or worse—then she, and any friend or relative who hears about it, is likely to suffer nervous apprehension until the designated date has been safely passed.
There are, however, scholarly journals of hypnotism5 which include reports on age-progression experiments. This is one more exciting field in hypnosis from which interesting developments are expected.
The subject of heredity, too, usually arises during the quiz period. To begin with, we should be ready to concede that the known principles of heredity include a great many more mysteries than solutions. Who among us has not been baffled by the ever-present anomalies of brothers who differ radically, by the genius who springs from a background of mediocrity, by the criminal who descends from eminent ancestry? Children of a genius, with few exceptions, rarely attain the stature of the parent; the antics of child prodigies are fantastic; and the extreme physical and mental differences within a single family are inscrutable.
To be sure, the doctrines of heredity, no matter how they are stretched or twisted, are strained in any attempt to account for these enigmas. On the other hand, the reincarnation principle fits the picture rather neatly: The reincarnating entity, having already molded these capacities, characteristics, and tendencies in previous experiences, could carry them forward into the present life.
What about the other side of the argument—the similarities found within a family? Here, let us borrow a quotation from Dr. John McTaggart:6
The man whose nature had certain characteristics when he was about to be reborn, would be reborn in a body descended from ancestors of a similar character. It would be the character of his ancestors and its similarity to his character which would determine the fact that he was reborn in that particular bod
y rather than in another. The shape of the head does not determine the shape of the hat, but it does determine the selection of this particular hat for this particular head….
In short, the argument against heredity as the whole story in explaining character and ability is a compelling one. In the words of the New Testament, “That which is born of the flesh is flesh; that which is born of the Spirit is spirit.”7 And it is interesting to note that this statement follows almost immediately after the counsel to Nicodemus that, “Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.”
Can the Bridey Murphy type of experiment be repeated with everyone? This question is asked by a surprising number of persons eager to explore their own past. And it is a curious fact that a preponderant majority of those who volunteer as subjects are women. Why women are especially interested in prenatal regressions I don’t know, but their interest is definitely keener than that of men.
Someday—and perhaps that day is not so far distant—it may be a simple matter to probe the depths of the psyche of almost any subject. At the moment, however, it must be recognized that Ruth Simmons is an uncommonly good hypnotic subject, and this capacity, as has been already explained, simply is not present in everyone. Consequently, “Bridey Murphys” are not likely to be unveiled every day of the week. Even so, now that many investigators are beginning to delve into this field, there will undoubtedly be forthcoming, from time to time, experiments which will make the Bridey effort seem amateurish.8
I have no idea, furthermore, how much can be accomplished with the assistance of drugs. If sodium amytal or sodium pentothal, for instance, were to be used in conjunction with these experiments, it would be interesting to learn what could be achieved with otherwise poor subjects. I am hoping that doctors will investigate this phase.
How about the population problem, the vast increase in the population of the earth? Here a moment’s reflection discloses at least two basic considerations. In the first place, the total number of entities both in this and the astral world can remain the same while the balance shifts between the number of entities on earth and the number in the unseen world. As the population on earth increases, the number of individual entities in the unseen world might be decreasing.
Then, too, the history of modern man goes back only a few thousand years. But geologists assure us that our earth is a few billion years old. Archaeological discoveries in the Orient, Egypt, Cambodia, and Mexico establish the fact that great civilizations once existed where there is now scarcely more than wasteland. So it is even possible that there was at one time a larger population than we supposed.
Does a previous existence account for our sometimes finding ourselves in a scene or circumstance which seems oddly familiar? Nobody can answer this with certainty; the reincarnation hypothesis is merely one possibility. The French have a term for this: déjà vu.
And Sir Walter Scott had something to say about it too:
How often do we find ourselves in society which we have never met, and yet feel impressed with a mysterious and ill-defined consciousness that neither the scene nor the speakers nor the subject are entirely new; nay, feel as if we could anticipate that part of the conversation which has not yet taken place.
What happens to the race, nationality, and sex of a person during this evolution through lifetimes? Obviously the nationality must change at times. As to sex, my own experiments—and I have had a total of only three subjects in prenatal regressions—have not disclosed any change of gender experienced by subjects recalling prior lives on earth. Besides Bridey Murphy, I had a female subject who claimed to have been a spinster schoolteacher in nineteenth century America, and a male subject who (under hypnosis, of course) related an interesting previous experience in which his sex had not changed.
Other investigators, however, report that they have encountered changes of sex from one incarnation to another. They contend, moreover, that there have been racial changes as well. (These findings, incidentally, are supported by the readings of Edgar Cayce, who maintained that race, nationality, or sex might alter from one life experience to the next.)
Naturally there have been plenty of questions put to me that I am far from qualified to answer: At what point does the “high frequency electromagnetic charge” (or psyche) enter the human embryo? Is there any observable pattern in the lapses of time between one lifetime and the next? What determines whether the psyche reincarnates again quickly (as claimed in the case of Shanti Devi, the Indian girl) or delays the process for a half century or more? What are the mechanics of reincarnation—just how does the psyche become infused into the embryo? And, as I asked Bridey Murphy, “Who takes care of all the details?”
While admitting my own ignorance, I must comment that those studying reincarnation, including scholars with minds much more perspicacious than my own, have attacked all these issues, and more, head-on. Their conclusions are plausible and appear, what’s more, to fit all the facts. There are a surprising number of volumes9 dealing with these topics, and I am reliably informed that there are even now several more being written, soon to be published.
Naturally I have made many mistakes as I have stumbled along. As I look back now, I can think of a good many things that should have been done, of questions that should have been asked. But I am not a professional at this business. Then, too, my experience in this field has all come so suddenly.
Besides, I had nothing to steer me, not even a textbook. In almost any other sphere, some guidance would be available. On hypnotic age regressions, for instance, there are “how-to” books, complete with suggested techniques, some even quoting entire sessions verbatim. But what is the best method, after regressing the subject to infancy, of going on back “over the hump”? There were no printed instructions on this phase, and so I simply had to plunge in as best I could.
As to questioning a subject, my first session presented a really perplexing problem. How does one interrogate a young woman who abruptly announces that she spent the previous century in Ireland? Perhaps she knew where she was, but I was lost!
And subsequent meetings were no easy matter, either. I had the help of some keen thinkers, including lawyers, in framing questions, but we were all beginners at this sort of thing. One attorney told me that he had called in his whole office staff and posed the problem for them: “If a woman walked in here today and claimed that she had lived in Ireland from 1798 until 1864, what questions would you ask her in order to prove conclusively that her statement was either true or false?” They were stumped.
The interrogation of Ruth Simmons was also encumbered by other limitations. The whole experiment would have collapsed without the co-operation of Rex Simmons, and so his recommendations—he never issued commands—had to be scrupulously observed. After the first time he asked, in order to make certain that Ruth would not be unduly fatigued, that no session take longer than one hour. Since this included the time required for the hypnosis and the ordinary age regression, there was not too long a period left for the interrogation of Bridey Murphy.
Rex had other concerns too. He reminded me that every time the New Amsterdam episode had been mentioned during a trance his wife had been noticeably seized with pain. So after that I avoided the subject of New Amsterdam. Moreover, I tried to avoid any type of question that might possibly result in his wife’s anxiety or discomfort.
There was also another brand of questioning that had to be deleted. Anything of a very personal or intimate nature was avoided. While it could be especially interesting—and might possibly even develop significant factual material—still it might result in disclosing incidents of an embarrassing nature.
And everything happened so quickly! I finished chasing down the Cayce story in October, recorded the first tape in November, the third tape in January, and then left for New York four days later. I had been in New York less than one week when an editor suggested that I start putting it all down on paper.
1Dr. Sir Alexander Cannon in The Power Within
&n
bsp; 2Finest Story in the World
3Etemalism, by O. J. Smith (Houghton Mifflin Co.)
4This might, for example, have a bearing on the child prodigy enigma
5Journal of Clinical and Experimental Hypnosis and British Journal of Medical Hypnotism
6Human Immortality and Vre-existence, by Dr. John McTaggart
7John 3:6
8On the other hand, we might also expect at least two consequences of a different sort. For one thing, there may be a rash of spurious regressions. Then, too, there will be the inevitable charges that hypnotic prenatal regressions are absolutely impossible. And such charges will likely originate, as usual, from within the very ranks of those most concerned with the subject- in this case, from hypnotists and psychologists
9See The Imprisoned Splendour, by Dr. R. C. Johnson; Problem of Rebirth, by Honorable Ralph Shirley; Many Mansions, by Gina Cerminara; There Is a River, by Thomas Sugme; Ring of Return, by Eva Martin
CHAPTER 18
The search for Bridey Murphy, the editor decided, should be conducted by independent investigators on the spot in Ireland. The editor took note of the fact that neither I nor my subject had ever at any time been abroad, and it was deemed best that this status be maintained until after the final manuscript had been turned in. Consequently, the matter of the search was put into the hands of an Irish legal firm, various librarians, and other investigators whose names were not even revealed to me at the time. In this way I could in no manner influence the investigator nor could I even communicate with them. It was to be, in short, a wholly independent project.
It early became clear that the search for Bridey would be far from the simple matter that we had at first presumed. It soon became evident, in fact, that the search would easily be a major research project in itself. A Cork librarian reported, “Ordinarily, no registers of births, marriages, or deaths were kept before 1864.” The representative of a London newspaper, which had become independently interested in making its own search, wrote, “Apparently the records for that period are extremely rare.”
The Search for Bridey Murphy Page 23
