I don't really have time to write an entry, but, fair is fair. A couple of days ago I mentioned evidence that, in 1832, Mathew had a pretty good idea of what to do to avoid the cholera epidemic which hit New York City that year--clean the filth from the streets, and pipe in clean water from the aquifer. In these things, he was ahead of his time. But when it came to the germ theory, he was on the wrong side--so much so, as to ridicule it, and this is what I wanted to share, this morning. Dr. Ian Stevenson said "When the ball is in, you call it in; when the ball is out, you call it out." So here, Mathew's ball was decidedly out.
But, perhaps, a deeper "ball" was actually in--because many years before I began this study, I had a psychic reading with one Patricia Kobleur in Atlanta, where I lived. She told me a seemingly implausible story that I was an orphan whose parents had died in a plague in Europe. I subsisted as a pickpocket, until I picked the pocket of a physician who, thinking to himself, "I can't stop the plague, but at least I can save one of these children," grabbed me by my shirt collar, took me home, and adopted me. I was, she said, educated as a doctor, but became a researcher bent on discovering the cause of contagious disease. She said I got close, but didn't quite figure out the germ theory of disease; and she said some of my papers are still preserved in a church in England.
It was in this same psychic reading that Ms. Kobleur told me I had been a female writer on the West Coast, who had some success publishing serials. And it was that person whom I was looking for, online, in a rather haphazard way, when I stumbled upon my 19th-century past life as Mathew Franklin Whittier, having recognized the name of one of his female literary associates, Sarah Orne Jewett.
It would appear that Mathew had carried forward his interest in the root cause of plagues; and that he wasn't far off, but that he still objected to the germ theory. That theory, by the way, was not unanimously adopted. I have been watching the "Monster Inside Me" series on the Animal Planet channel, and in the last episode I watched, someone became deadly ill from bacteria which are pretty-much ubiquitous in everybody. There is something missing from the germ theory, as to why this person is susceptible, whereas that person is not. Yes, the immune system is compromised in some people--but that is not the whole story. There is another component, and no-doubt (in my mind), that component is non-physical. Because we have embraced Materialism so completely, as philosophy professor Robert Almeder said when I interviewed him in (I think it was) year 2000, "we leave important things out."
That being said, one has to be careful what one ridicules, because one may find that, ridicule or no, one is mistaken. Now, in my study and my book, where I was mistaken, I said so. At least as regards past-life memory. Where I was mistaken in points of historical scholarship, I simply corrected the matter and moved on. I don't pretend to be a historian, except for what I have picked up incidentally in the course of my reincarnation research. There is no point in admitting that I made this or that embarrassing mistake as regards life in the 19th century. But where I was mistaken in a speculation about my past life, I left in a mention of that.
My question here is, are any of my readers as honest as I am? I doubt it. I doubt that any of the people who blithely dismiss me, or even privately ridicule me, perhaps, would be as honest, when they are proven wrong, as I am.
Thus, when you attempt to prove something, first and foremost you have to find people as honest as yourself, to prove it to.
Below is the article I just finished keying in (and now I have to get back to work and start another, because I have tons of these to go). It appeared on the editorial page of the New York "Constellation" of August 11, 1832, in the midst of a terrible cholera outbreak in that city. Mathew, at age 20, was in charge of the editorial page for this paper as the junior editor. The following month, the editor would quit the paper he had founded, presumably to flee the city; and Mathew would finally do likewise, ending up, as it appears, 223 miles away in Ithaca. Based on another article, it appears that the theory he is lampooning held that it was microorganisms in the air which caused cholera, such that they would test the atmosphere by hoisting a piece of raw beef up the top of a church steeple. It is sad, isn't it, how one can be so close, yet so far. Then again, if Lee Camp were reporting this, no-doubt he would notice that it is financially and politically difficult to get the city to clean the streets and the water; whereas, blaming it on the air wouldn't step on any powerful toes.
Stephen Sakellarios, M.S.
MARVELS IN THE ATMOSPHERE.
Persons, who are fond of the marvellous, have discovered something very wonderful in the atmosphere, and the quality of the light, about these cholera times. It is entirely different, say they, from what we ever saw before--the sky is so white, and the sun is so blue! And then the stars, what a countenance they exhibit in the night. Why the heavens are actually as spotted as a leopard. Then there's a sort of feeling in the atmosphere which was never felt before--a sort of--of--a kind of a strange, unaccountable, indescribable, unfelt kind of a feeling, as it were, that has some sort of a connexion somehow or other with the cholera.
Among other marvels, of these lovers of the marvellous, is that of certain animalculae in the air, which they say is crowded full and running over; insomuch that if you are walking, or riding, or sitting, or standing, and dare so much as to breathe or open your mouth, you incontinently swallow or inhale innumerable of these same villanous, intrusive, detrimental, and infectious animalculae, that give you the cholera, unless you drink plentifully of aqua-vita to destroy these in your stomach, and inhale the fumes of camphor, tar and brimstone to kill those that have found their way into your lungs.
Among other modes of testing this animalcular state of the atmosphere, is that of hoisting a piece of fresh beef on the top of a steeple, or sending it aloft on the tail of a kite, when the little, infernal, greedy, cholera critters dive forthwith into the piece of beef; and, in less than two minutes, ten thousand times ten thousand are found infesting and revelling in its heart's core. And if they produce so sudden and marvellous an effect on a piece of fresh beef, what must they not do with a human being, who at best is but of ten days and full of the Old [Stick?]?
Persons, [versed?] in making these experiments and discoveries, may be called marvelling philosophers. Next to these are the marvelling [?], who faithfully believe every thing that is asserted by the marvelling philosophers; and the more improbable a thing is, the more faithfully they believe it. Of this class are most, if not all, those judicious persons who believe that the moon is made of green cheese, that cattle kneel at midnight on Christmas eve, and that pigs and wall-eyed horses see the wind.
"Ave you noticed the wonderful phenomenon in the hair?" said an Englishman to us the other day.
"Hair?" said we, honestly, "whose hair?"
"Oose hair!" exclaimed he, rather angrily, "why, oose hair is the hair? I mean the hair as we breathe."
"The hair as we breathe! Oh, ah, I understand you now--you mean the air--the atmosphere."
"Yes, yes, the hatmosphere, I mean. Avn't you noticed hany thing wonderful hin it?"
"Nothing, I assure you"
"Well, I ave, and so as hall my neighbors. We first read it hin the papers, and we discovered the phenomenon has clear has day."
"What is it?"
"Why, hit's a kind of a sort of a strange, hunaccountable, hindescribable, binwisible, kind of a strange sort of a hair as was never eard of before. I should like to hoccupy a corner of your paper with a bit of an harticle on the subject, if you please. I think I can give your readers some hinsight into the subject, if you will allow me the hopportunity."
"Is your article written?"
"No, but I'll ave it ready wery soon."
The marvelling Englishman went away to prepare his harticle, as he called it, and presently a marvelling old lady accosted us, and wished to know if we had seen the "annamilkulars."
"What are those?" said we, making use of the Yankee privilege, of answering one question by asking another.
"I don't now what they are," she relied, "but I understand they're little invisible critters that have been seen by the file-ossifers, ever since the cholerer come among us."
"How could they be seen, if they were invisible?"
"That's more than I know; but I understand ten million hundred thousand on 'em has been seen at one time, kicking, crawling, and scratching; and that moreover they carried off a piece of roast beef to the tip top of Trinity steeple--some says 'twas St. Paul's, and others says 'twas St. John's--I don't know how that is, but I'm credibly informed 'twas some steeple or other, and a pretty high one too. Well, what do you think the little tormented annamilkulars did with it when they get up there?"
"They dined upon it, I suppose."
"No; I understand they tore it into a million of flitters in less than half a minute, and then scattered it to the seven winds. They say these nasty annamilkolars gets into people's throats and stomachs, and gives 'em the cholerer. And I shouldn't wonder if it was so. Only think, if they could carry off a piece of roast beef, to the top of a steeple, and then tear it into ditters in a minute, what tearing work they must make when they get into a person's insides? The massy on me! I don't wonder that people the grips and spisms, with sich tormented critters tearing 'em every which way. I should die off hand, I know I should."
"Have you any symptoms of the cholera?"
"None to speak on. I've been very careful to keep my mouth shut, ever sence I heard about the annamilkulars. Don't you think it's prudent to do so?"
We assured the good woman that such was our entire belief; whereupon she ceased speaking, and presently took her leave.
We would recommend it to the reader to follow the old lady's precaution--at least so far as to keep the mouth shut on all proper occasions; for, whatever they may think of the "annamilkulars," one thing is certain, the imprudent opening of the mouth has been the cause of death to thousands.
Music opening this page: "Won't Get Fooled Again," by The Who,
from the album, "Who's Next"