The first authentic ghost will be welcomed as the saviour of humanity.
But he must be a living ghost--a 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 ghosts--the silly, childish spooks about which we had been telling anecdotes--death 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.