Theosophy - Memory in the Dying by H.P.Blavatsky
by H. P. Blavatsky
-
an article that appeared in the Lucifer Magazine of October
1889
written years ago
to a member of the Theosophical Society by a Master of the Wisdom (Page 167
Of the Mahatma Letters to A.P.Sinnett), the following suggestive lines on the
mental state of a dying person:
"At the last
moment, the whole life is reflected in our memory and emerges from all the forgotten
nooks and corners, picture after picture, one event after the other. The dying
brain dislodges memory with a strong, supreme impulse; and memory restores faithfully
every impression that has been entrusted to it during the period of the brain's
activity. That impression and thought which was the strongest, naturally becomes
the most vivid, and survives, so to say, all the rest, which now vanish and
disappear for ever, but to reappear in Devachan. No man dies insane or unconscious,
as some physiologists assert. Even a madman or one in a fit of delirium tremens
will have his instant of perfect lucidity at the moment of death, though unable
to say so to those present. The man may often appear dead. Yet from the last
pulsation, and between the last throbbing of his heart and the moment when the
last spark of animal heat leaves the body, the brain thinks and the EGO lives,
in these few brief seconds, his whole life over again. Speak in whispers, ye
who assist at a death-bed and find yourselves in the solemn presence of Death.
Especially have ye to keep quiet just after Death has laid her clammy hand upon
the body. Speak in whispers I say, lest you disturb the quiet ripple of thought
and hinder the busy work of the Past casting its reflection upon the veil of
the Future. . . ."
The above statement
has been more than once strenuously opposed by materialists; Biology and (Scientific)
Psychology, it was urged, were both against the idea, and while the latter had
no well demonstrated data to go upon in such a hypothesis, the former dismissed
the idea as an empty "superstition." Meanwhile, even biology is bound
to progress, and this is what we learn of its latest achievements. Dr. Ferré
has communicated quite recently to the Biological Society of Paris a very curious
note on the mental state of the dying, which corroborates marvellously the above
lines. For, it is to the special phenomenon of life-reminiscences, and that
sudden re-emerging on the blank walls of memory, from all its long neglected
and forgotten "nooks and corners," of "picture after picture"
that Dr. Ferré draws the special attention of biologists.
We need notice but
two among the numerous instances given by this Scientist in his Rapport, to
show how scientifically correct are the teachings we receive from our Eastern
Masters.
The first instance
is that of a moribund consumptive whose disease was developed in consequence
of a spinal affection. Already consciousness had left the man, when, recalled
to life by two successive injections of a gramme of ether, the patient slightly
lifted his head and began talking rapidly in Flemish, a language no one around
him, nor yet himself, understood. Offered a pencil and a piece of white cardboard,
he wrote with great rapidity several lines in that language--very correctly,
as was ascertained later on--fell back, and died. When translated--the writing
was found to refer to a very prosaic affair. He had suddenly recollected, he
wrote, that he owed a certain man a sum of fifteen francs since 1868--hence
more than twenty years--and desired it to be paid.
But why write his
last wish in Flemish? The defunct was a native of Antwerp, but had left his
country in childhood, without ever knowing the language, and having passed all
his life in Paris, could speak and write only in French. Evidently his returning
consciousness, that last flash of memory that displayed before him, as in a
retrospective panorama, all his life, even to the trifling fact of his having
borrowed twenty years back a few francs from a friend, did not emanate from
his physical brain alone, but rather from his spiritual memory, that of the
Higher Ego (Manas or the re-incarnating individuality). The fact of his speaking
and writing Flemish, a language that he had heard at a time of life when he
could not yet speak himself, is an additional proof. The EGO is
almost omniscient in its immortal nature. For indeed matter is nothing more
than "the last degree and as the shadow of existence," as Ravaisson,
member of the French Institute, tells us.
But to our second
case.
Another patient,
dying of pulmonary consumption and likewise reanimated by an injection of ether,
turned his head towards his wife and rapidly said to her: "You cannot find
that pin now; all the floor has been renewed since then." This was in reference
to the loss of a scarf pin eighteen years before, a fact so trifling that it
had almost been forgotten, but which had not failed to be revived in the last
thought of the dying man, who having expressed what he saw in words, suddenly
stopped and breathed his last. Thus any one of the thousand little daily events,
and accidents of a long life would seem capable of being recalled to the flickering
consciousness, at the supreme moment of dissolution. A long life, perhaps, lived
over again in the space of one short second!
A third case may
be noticed, which corroborates still more strongly that assertion of Occultism
which traces all such remembrances to the thought-power of the individual, instead
of to that of the personal (lower) Ego. A young girl, who had been a sleepwalker
up to her twenty-second year, performed during her hours of somnambulic sleep
the most varied functions of domestic life, of which she had no remembrance
upon awakening.
Among other psychic
impulses that manifested themselves only during her sleep, was a secretive tendency
quite alien to her waking state. During the latter she was open and frank to
a degree, and very careless of her personal property; but in the somnambulic
state she would take articles belonging to herself or within her reach and hide
them away with ingenious cunning. This habit being known to her friends and
relatives, and two nurses, having been in attendance to watch her actions during
her night rambles for years, nothing disappeared but what could be easily restored
to its usual place. But on one sultry night, the nurse falling asleep, the young
girl got up and went to her father's study. The latter, a notary of fame, had
been working till a late hour that night. It was during a momentary absence
from his room that the somnambule entered, and deliberately possessed herself
of a will left open upon the desk, as also of a sum of several thousand pounds
in bonds and notes. These she proceeded to hide in the hollow of two dummy pillars
set up in the library to match the solid ones, and stealing from the room before
her father's return, she regained her chamber and bed without awakening the
nurse who was still asleep in the armchair.
The result was,
that, as the nurse stoutly denied that her young mistress had left the room,
suspicion was diverted from the real culprit and the money could not be recovered.
The loss of the will involved a law-suit which almost beggared her father and
entirely ruined his reputation, and the family were reduced to great straits.
About nine years later the young girl who, during the previous seven years had
not been somnambulic, fell into a consumption of which she ultimately died.
Upon her death-bed. the veil which had hung before her physical memory was raised;
her divine insight awakened; the pictures of her life came streaming back before
her inner eye; and among others she saw the scene of her somnambulic robbery.
Suddenly arousing herself from the lethargy in which she had lain for several
hours, her face showed signs of some terrible emotion working within, and she
cried out "Ah! what have I done? . . . It was I who took the will and the
money . . . Go search the dummy pillars in the library, I have . . ." She
never finished her sentence for her very emotion killed her. But the search
was made and the will and money found within the oaken pillars as she had said.
What makes the case more strange is, that these pillars were so high, that even
by standing upon a chair and with plenty of time at her disposal instead of
only a few moments, the somnambulist could not have reached up and dropped the
objects into the hollow columns. It is to be noted, however, that ecstatics
and convulsionists (Vide the Convulsionnaires de St. Médard et de Morizine)
seem to possess an abnormal facility for climbing blank walls and leaping even
to the tops of trees.
Taking the facts
as stated, would they not induce one to believe that the somnambulic personage
possesses an intelligence and memory of its own apart from the physical memory
of the waking lower Self; and that it is the former which remembers in articulo
mortis, the body and physical senses in the latter case ceasing to function,
and the intelligence gradually making its final escape through the avenue of
psychic, and last of all of spiritual consciousness? And why not? Even materialistic
science begins now to concede to psychology more than one fact that would have
vainly begged of it recognition twenty years ago. "The real existence"
Ravaisson tells us, "the life of which every other life is but an imperfect
outline, a faint sketch, is that of the Soul." That which the public in
general calls "soul," we speak of as the "reincarnating Ego."
"To be, is to live, and to live is to will and think," says the French
Scientist. But, if indeed the physical brain is of only a limited
area, the field for the containment of rapid flashes of unlimited and infinite
thought, neither will nor thought can be said to be generated within it, even
according to materialistic Science, the impassable chasm between matter and
mind having been confessed both by Tyndall and many others. The fact is that
the human brain is simply the canal between two planes--the psycho-spiritual
and the material--through which every abstract and metaphysical idea filters
from the Manasic down to the lower human consciousness. Therefore, the ideas
about the infinite and the absolute are not, nor can they be, within our brain
capacities. They can be faithfully mirrored only by our Spiritual consciousness,
thence to be more or less faintly projected on to the tables of our perceptions
on this plane. Thus while the records of even important events are often obliterated
from our memory, not the most trifling action of our lives can disappear from
the "Soul's" memory, because it is no MEMORY for it, but an ever present
reality on the plane which lies outside our conceptions of space and time. "Man
is the measure of all things," said Aristotle; and surely he did not mean
by man, the form of flesh, bones and muscles!
Of all the deep
thinkers Edgard Quinet, the author of "Creation," expressed this idea
the best. Speaking of man, full of feelings and thoughts of which he has either
no consciousness at all, or which he feels only as dim and hazy impressions,
he shows that man realizes quite a small portion only of his moral being. "The
thoughts we think, but are unable to define and formulate, once repelled, seek
refuge in the very root of our being." . . . When chased by the persistent
efforts of our will "they retreat before it, still further, still deeper
into--who knows what--fibres, but wherein they remain to reign and impress us
unbidden and unknown to ourselves. . . ."
Yes; they become
as imperceptible and as unreachable as the vibrations of sound and colour when
these surpass the normal range. Unseen and eluding grasp, they yet work, and
thus lay the foundations of our future actions and thoughts, and obtain mastery
over us, though we may never think of them and are often ignorant of their very
being and presence. Nowhere does Quinet, the great student of Nature, seem more
right in his observations than when speaking of the mysteries with which we
are all surrounded: "The mysteries of neither earth nor heaven but those
present in the marrow of our bones, in our-brain cells, our nerves and fibres.
No need," he adds, "in order to search for the unknown, to lose ourselves
in the realm of the stars, when here, near us and in us, rests the unreachable.
As our world is mostly formed of imperceptible beings which are the real constructors
of its continents, so likewise is man."
Verily so; since
man is a bundle of obscure, and to himself unconscious perceptions, of indefinite
feelings and misunderstood emotions, of ever-forgotten memories and knowledge
that becomes on the surface of his plane--ignorance. Yet, while physical memory
in a healthy living man is often obscured, one fact crowding out another weaker
one, at the moment of the great change that man calls death--that which we call
"memory" seems to return to us in all its vigour and freshness.
May this not be
due as just said, simply to the fact that, for a few seconds at least, our two
memories (or rather the two states, the highest and the lowest state, of consciousness)
blend together, thus forming one, and that the dying being finds himself on
a plane wherein there is neither past nor future, but all is one present? Memory,
as we all know, is strongest with regard to its early associations, then when
the future man is only a child, and more of a soul than of a body; and if memory
is a part of our Soul, then, as Thackeray has somewhere said, it must be of
necessity eternal. Scientists deny this; we, Theosophists, affirm that it is
so. They have for what they hold but negative proofs; we have, to support us,
innumerable facts of the kind just instanced, in the three cases described by
us. The links of the chain of cause and effect with relation to mind are, and
must ever remain a terra-incognita to the materialist. For if they have already
acquired a deep conviction that as Pope says--
Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain Our thoughts are link'd by many a hidden chain -and that they are still unable to discover these chains, how can they hope to unravel the mysteries of the higher, Spiritual, Mind!
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