the angel and the author-第25章
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But he must be a living ghosta ghost we can respect； a ghost we can
listen to。 The poor spiritless addle…headed ghost that has hitherto
haunted our blue chambers is of no use to us。 I remember a
thoughtful man once remarking during argument that if he believed in
ghoststhe silly； childish spooks about which we had been telling
anecdotesdeath would possess for him an added fear： the idea that
his next dwelling…place would be among such a pack of dismal idiots
would sadden his departing hours。 What was he to talk to them about？
Apparently their only interest lay in recalling their earthly
troubles。 The ghost of the lady unhappily married who had been
poisoned； or had her throat cut； who every night for the last five
hundred years had visited the chamber where it happened for no other
purpose than to scream about it！ what a tiresome person she would be
to meet！ All her conversation during the long days would be around
her earthly wrongs。 The other ghosts； in all probability； would have
heard about that husband of hers； what he said； and what he did； till
they were sick of the subject。 A newcomer would be seized upon with
avidity。
A lady of repute writes to a magazine that she once occupied for a
season a wainscotted room in an old manor house。 On several
occasions she awoke in the night： each time to witness the same
ghostly performance。 Four gentlemen sat round a table playing cards。
Suddenly one of them sprang to his feet and plunged a dagger into the
back of his partner。 The lady does not say so： one presumes it was
his partner。 I have； myself； when playing bridge； seen an expression
on my partner's face that said quite plainly：
〃I would like to murder you。〃
I have not the memory for bridge。 I forget who it was that； last
trick but seven； played the two of clubs。 I thought it was he； my
partner。 I thought it meant that I was to take an early opportunity
of forcing trumps。 I don't know why I thought so； I try to explain
why I thought so。 It sounds a silly argument even to myself； I feel
I have not got it quite right。 Added to which it was not my partner
who played the two of clubs； it was Dummy。 If I had only remembered
this； and had concluded from itas I ought to have donethat my
partner had the ace of diamondsas otherwise why did he pass my
knave？we might have saved the odd trick。 I have not the head for
bridge。 It is only an ordinary headmine。 I have no business to
play bridge。
＇Why not； occasionally； a cheerful Ghost。＇
But to return to our ghosts。 These four gentlemen must now and
again； during their earthly existence； have sat down to a merry game
of cards。 There must have been evenings when nobody was stabbed。
Why choose an unpleasant occasion to harp exclusively upon it？ Why
do ghosts never give a cheerful show？ The lady who was poisoned！
there must have been other evenings in her life。 Why does she not
show us 〃The first meeting〃： when he gave her the violets and said
they were like her eyes？ He wasn't always poisoning her。 There must
have been a period before he ever thought of poisoning her。 Cannot
these ghosts do something occasionally in what is termed 〃the lighter
vein〃？ If they haunt a forest glade； it is to perform a duel to the
death； or an assassination。 Why cannot they； for a change； give us
an old…time picnic； or 〃The hawking party；〃 which； in Elizabethan
costume； should make a pretty picture？ Ghostland would appear to be
obsessed by the spirit of the Scandinavian drama： murders； suicides；
ruined fortunes； and broken hearts are the only material made use of。
Why is not a dead humorist allowed now and then to write the sketch？
There must be plenty of dead comic lovers； why are they never allowed
to give a performance？
＇Where are the dead Humorists？＇
A cheerful person contemplates death with alarm。 What is he to do in
this land of ghosts？ there is no place for him。 Imagine the
commonplace liver of a humdrum existence being received into
ghostland。 He enters nervous； shy； feeling again the new boy at
school。 The old ghosts gather round him。
〃How do you come heremurdered？〃
〃No； at least； I don't think so。〃
〃Suicide？
〃Nocan't remember the name of it now。 Began with a chill on the
liver； I think。〃
The ghosts are disappointed。 But a happy suggestion is made。
Perhaps he was the murderer； that would be even better。 Let him
think carefully； can he recollect ever having committed a murder？ He
racks his brains in vain； not a single murder comes to his
recollection。 He never forged a will。 Doesn't even know where
anything is hid。 Of what use will he be in ghostland？ One pictures
him passing the centuries among a moody crowd of uninteresting
mediocrities； brooding perpetually over their wasted lives。 Only the
ghosts of ladies and gentlemen mixed up in crime have any 〃show〃 in
ghostland。
＇The Spirit does not shine as a Conversationalist。＇
I feel an equal dissatisfaction with the spirits who are supposed to
return to us and communicate with us through the medium of three…
legged tables。 I do not deny the possibility that spirits exist。 I
am even willing to allow them their three…legged tables。 It must be
confessed it is a clumsy method。 One cannot help regretting that
during all the ages they have not evolved a more dignified system。
One feels that the three…legged table must hamper them。 One can
imagine an impatient spirit getting tired of spelling out a lengthy
story on a three…legged table。 But； as I have said； I am willing to
assume that； for some spiritual reason unfathomable to my mere human
intelligence； that three…legged table is essential。 I am willing
also to accept the human medium。 She is generally an unprepossessing
lady running somewhat to bulk。 If a gentleman； he so often has dirty
finger…nails； and smells of stale beer。 I think myself it would be
so much simpler if the spirit would talk to me direct； we could get
on quicker。 But there is that about the medium； I am told； which
appeals to a spirit。 Well； it is his affair； not mine； and I waive
the argument。 My real stumbling…block is the spirit himselfthe
sort of conversation that； when he does talk； he indulges in。 I
cannot help feeling that his conversation is not worth the
paraphernalia。 I can talk better than that myself。
The late Professor Huxley； who took some trouble over this matter；
attended some half…dozen seances； and then determined to attend no
more。
〃I have；〃 he said； 〃for my sins to submit occasionally to the society
of live bores。 I refuse to go out of my way to spend an evening in
the dark with dead bores。〃
The spiritualists themselves admit that their table…rapping spooks
are precious dull dogs； it would be difficult； in face of the
communications recorded； for them to deny it。 They explain to us
that they have not yet achieved communication with the higher
spiritual Intelligences。 The more intelligent spiritsfor some
reason that the spiritualists themselves are unable to explaindo
not want to talk to them； appear to have something else to do。 At
presentso I am told； and can believeit is only the spirits of
lower intelligence that care to turn up on these evenings。 The
spiritualists argue that； by continuing； the higher…class spirits
will later on be induced to 〃come in。〃 I fail to follow the
argument。 It seems to me that we are frightening them away。 Anyhow；
myself I shall wait awhile。
When the spirit comes along that can talk sense； that can tell me
something I don't know； I shall be glad to meet him。 The class of
spirit that we are getting just at present does not appeal to me。
The thought of himthe reflection that I shall die and spend the
rest of eternity in his companydoes not comfort me。
＇She is now a Believer。＇
A lady of my acquaintance tells me it is marvellous how much these
spirits seem to know。 On her very first visit； the spirit； through
the voice of the mediuman elderly gentleman residing obscurely in
Clerkenwellinformed her without a moment's hesitation that she
possessed a re
