The first: that the loss of the idea of Purgatory helps explain English affinity for ghost stories about lost souls haunting the earth:
Watkins paints a vivid picture, in the first part of his book, of a medieval way of life in which the “Church Suffering” (as the souls in Purgatory were called) formed part of an economic community which straddled the realms of the living and the dead. The endowment of monasteries, churches, almshouses, gifts of land were bequeathments by the dying to those who followed after. Golden chalices, jewelled reliquaries, stained-glass windows, wood-carvings: all the splendour of the medieval Church was underwritten by the dead, with wider consequences for the economy as a whole. Focusing closely on the dealings of John Baret, a fifteenth-century merchant from Bury St Edmunds, Watkins shows how businesslike he was in approaching eternity, settling earthly debts, endowing monuments, buying masses in advance to promote his soul’s salvation. If the lack of spirituality is striking, so, too, is the unquestioning assumption of a continuity between this existence and the next.The other suggestion, novel to me, is that Spiritualism, when it arrived, felt "modern":
An unscriptural amendment to the Christian tradition, Purgatory was ripe for abolition. Yet, as a psychological support for striving Christians, it had made sense and its loss left ordinary people bereft. It is no surprise that its phantom should have stalked British society from that time on. To some extent, folklore filled the gap – songs and stories of wild wastes which had to be traversed by wayfaring souls on their way to the afterlife; there were tales of ghosts and what we would now call poltergeists. Watkins rejects the idea that such traditions were a sort of “strange Catholic survival” – yet they surely stemmed from some deep anxiety. Justification by faith may sound a soft option, but the faith required is the mountain-moving sort: how many, after all, could seriously hope to be saved?
There was nothing much respectable about the Welsh doctor-druid William Price, yet it was he who effectively brought about the legalization of cremation in 1884. In doing so, suggests Watkins, he carried to its logical conclusion both the demystification of the human body which had begun with the rise of dissection (albeit in the face of fierce popular resistance), and the detaching of the life of the individual from that of the community which had begun with the replacement of the churchyard by the cemetery. Yet it was to be a self-consciously progressive, scientifically minded set which brought the dead back into the everyday existence of the living with the craze for spiritualism from the 1850s. Watkins makes the point that, with all their various knockings and tappings, the spirits’ communications seemed as modern as Morse code.Update: on that second point, I have noted here before how the explanation for where heaven can exist has changed with increasingly sophisticated scientific ideas, so that (for example) the belief that it was just beyond the dome of the sky was replaced by it being in a higher dimension which we could not perceive from our 3 D "flatland" perspective. But I wouldn't have thought that Spiritualism per se felt "modern" when it first arrived. There are, however, cases where Spiritualism has specifically gone into science-y explanations. Apart from talk of spirits living at different "vibrations" (an idea that seems almost as old as the Fox sisters), in the Scole experiments in the 1990's, I recall that there was much talk of how the device used in the sittings was constructed via instructions from spirit scientists on the other side as to how to build a good quality "receiver". It's a wonder that, as far as I know, we never hear of spirit communications that talk about quantum science and the multiverse. (The skeptical explanation, of course, would be that mediums simply aren't that interested in the topic and don't read enough about it for their subconscious to regurgitate it during "communications". But the idea does get a lot of publicity in the popular media now, so it's a bit curious that it doesn't turn up.)
Ultimately, spiritualism can be seen as an aspect of a general secularization which saw the imaginative hold of the afterlife weakening: “the other world had thinned”, Watkins concludes. Quite how and why this happened isn’t clear. While scientific rationalism must have played its part and immigration made new perspectives available, we’re finally reduced to some version of Virginia Woolf’s mischievous suggestion that “On or about December, 1910, human nature changed”.