This Salem story is indeed shocking in every view—to our pride as rational beings, to our sympathy as human beings, to our faith as Christians, to our complacency as children of the Reformation. It is so shocking that some of us may regret that the details have been revived with such an abundance of evidence. But this is no matter of regret, but rather of congratulation, if we have not outgrown the need of admonition from the past. How does that consideration stand?
At the end of nearly three centuries we find ourselves relieved of a heavy burden of fear and care about the perpetual and unbounded malice of Satan and his agents. Witchcraft has ceased to be one of the gravest curses of the human lot. We have parted with one after another of the fetish or conjectural persuasions about our relations with the world of spirit or mind, regarded as in direct opposition to the world of matter. By a succession of discoveries we have been led to an essentially different view of life and thought from any dreamed of before the new birth of science; and at this day, and in our own metropolis, we have Sir Henry Holland telling us how certain treatment of this or that department of the nervous system will generate this or that state of belief and experience, as well as sensation. We have Dr. Carpenter disclosing facts of incalculable significance about brain-action without consciousness, and other vital mysteries. We have Dr. Maudsley showing, in the cells of the lunatic asylum, not only the very realm of Satan, as our fathers would have thought, but the discovery that it is not Satan, after all, that makes the havoc, but our own ignorance which has seduced us into a blasphemous superstition, instead of inciting us to the study of ourselves. And these are not all our teachers. Amid the conflict of phenomena of the humanmind and body, we have arrived now at the express controversy of Psychology against Physiology. Beyond the mere statement of the fact we have scarcely advanced a step. The first can not be, with any accuracy, called a science at all, and the other is in little more than a rudimentary state; but it is no small gain to have arrived at some conception of the nature of the problem set before us, and at some liberty of hypothesis as to its conditions. In brief, and in the plainest terms, while there is still a multitude deluding and disporting itself with a false hypothesis about certain mysteries of the human mind, and claiming to have explained the marvels of Spiritualism by making an objective world of their own subjective experience, the scientific physiologists [those especially who are true phrenologists] are proceeding, by observation and experiment, to penetrate more and more secrets of our intellectual and moral life.
[1]Address on the Present State of Therapeutics. Delivered at the opening meeting of the Clinical Society of London, January 10, 1868. By Sir Thomas Watson, Bart., M.D.
[1]Address on the Present State of Therapeutics. Delivered at the opening meeting of the Clinical Society of London, January 10, 1868. By Sir Thomas Watson, Bart., M.D.
[1]Address on the Present State of Therapeutics. Delivered at the opening meeting of the Clinical Society of London, January 10, 1868. By Sir Thomas Watson, Bart., M.D.
T
PlanchetteTHE PLANCHETTE
Thislittle gyrating tripod is proving itself to be something more than a nine days’ wonder. It is finding its way into thousands of families in all parts of the land. Lawyers, physicians, politicians, philosophers, and even clergymen, have watched eagerly its strange antics, and listened with rapt attention to its mystic oracles. Mrs. Jones demands of it where Jones spends his evenings; the inquisitive of both sexes are soliciting it to “tell their fortunes;” speculators are invoking its aid in making sharp bargains, and it is said that even sagacious brokers in Wall Street are often found listening to its vaticinations as to the price of stocks on a given future day. To all kinds of inquiries answers are given, intelligible at least, if not always true. A wonderful jumble of mental and moral possibilities is this little piece of dead matter, now giving utterance to childish drivel, now bandying jokes and badinage, now stirring the conscience by unexceptionably Christian admonitions, and now uttering the baldest infidelity or the most shocking profanity; and often discoursing gravely on science, philosophy, or theology. It is true that Planchette seldom assumes this variety of theme and diction under the hands of the same individual, but, in general, manifests a peculiar facility of adapting its discourse to the character of its associates. Reader, with your sanction, we will seek a little further acquaintance with this new wonder.
The word “Planchette” is French, and simply signifies alittle board. It is usually made in the shape of a heart, about seven inches long and six inches wide at the widest part, but we suppose that any other shape and convenient size would answer as well. Under the two corners of the widest end are fixed two little castors or pantograph wheels, admitting of easy motion in all horizontal directions; and in a hole, pierced through the narrow end, is fixed, upright, a lead pencil, which forms the third foot of the tripod. If this little instrument be placed upon a sheet of printing paper, and the fingers of one or more persons be laid lightlyupon it, after quietly waiting a short time for the connection orrapportto become established, the board, if conditions are favorable, will begin to move, carrying the fingers with it. It will move for about one person in every three or four; and sometimes it will move with the hands of two or three persons in contact with it, when it will not move for either one of the persons singly. At the first trial, from a few seconds to twenty minutes may be required to establish the motion; but at subsequent trials it will move almost immediately. The first movements are usually indefinite or in circles but as soon as some control of the motion is established, it will begin to write—at first, perhaps, in mere monosyllables, “Yes,” and “No,” in answer to leading questions, but afterward freely writing whole sentences, and even pages.
For me alone, the instrument will not move; for myself and wife it moves slightly, but its writing is mostly in monosyllables. With my daughter’s hands upon it, it writes more freely, frequently giving, correctly, the names of persons present whom she may not know, and also the names of their friends, living or dead, with other and similar tests. Its conversations with her are grave or gay, much according to the state of her own mind at the time; and when frivolous questions are asked, it almost always returns answers either frivolous or, I am sorry to say it, a trifle wicked. For example, she on one occasion said to it: “Planchette, where did you get your education?” To her horror, it instantly wrote: “In h—l,” without, however, being so fastidious as to omit the letters of the word here left out. On another occasion, after receiving from it responses to some trival questions, she said to it: “Planchette, now write something of your own accord without our prompting.” But instead of writing words and sentences as was expected, it immediately traced out the rude figure of a man, such as school children sometimes make upon their slates. After finishing the outlines—face, neck, arms, legs, etc., it swung around and brought the point of the pencil to the proper position for the eye, which it carefully marked in, and then proceeded to pencil out the hair. On finishing this operation, it wrote under the figure the name of a young man concerning whom my daughter’s companions are in the habit of teasing her.
My wife once said to it: “Planchette, write the name of the article I am thinking of.” She was thinking of a finger ring, on which her eye had rested a moment before. The operator, of course, knew nothing of this, and my wife expected either that the experiment would fail, or else that the letters R-i-n-g would be traced. But instead of that, the instrument moved, very slowly, and, as it were, deliberately, and traced an apparentlyexact circleon the paper, of about the size of the finger ring she had in her mind. “Will you try that over again?” said she, when a similar circle was traced, in a similar manner, but more promptly. During this experiment, one of my wife’s hands, in addition to my daughter’s, was resting lightly upon the board; but if the moving force had beensupplied by her, either consciously or unconsciously, the motion would evidently have taken the direction of her thought, which was that of writing the letters of the word, instead of a direction unthought of.
While Planchette, in her intercourse with me, has failed to distinguish herself either as a preacher or a philosopher, I regret to say that she has not proved herself a much more successful prophet. While the recent contest for the United States Senatorship from the State of New York was pending, I said to my little oracular friend: “Planchette, will you give me a test?” “Yes.” “Do you know who will be the next U. S. Senator from this State?” “Yes.” “Please write the name of the person who will be chosen.” “Mr. Sutton,” was written. Said I, “I have not the pleasure of knowing that gentleman; please tell me where he resides.”Ans.“In Washington.”
I do not relate this to disturb the happy dreams of theHon.Reuben E. Fenton by suggesting any dire contingencies that may yet happen to mar the prospect before him. In justice to my little friend, however, I must not omit to state that in respect to questions as to the kind of weather we shall have on the morrow? will such person go, or such a one come? or shall I see, or do this, that, or the other thing? its responses have been generally correct.
To rush to a conclusion respecting therationaleof so mysterious a phenomenon, under the sole guidance of an experience which has been so limited as my own, would betray an amount of egoism and heedlessness with which I am unwilling to be chargeable; and my readers will now be introduced to some experiences of others.
A friend of mine, Mr. C., residing in Jersey City, with whom I have almost daily intercourse, and whose testimony is entirely trustworthy, relates the following:
Some five or six months ago he purchased a Planchette, brought it home, and placed it in the hands of Mrs. B., a widow, who was then visiting his family. Mrs. B. had never tried or witnessed any experiments with Planchette, and was incredulous as to her power to evoke any movements from it. She, however, placed her hands upon it, as directed, and to her surprise it soon began to move, and wrote for its first words: “Take care!” “Of what must I take care?” she inquired. “Of your money.” “Where?” “In Kentucky.”
My friend states that Mrs. B.’s husband had died in Albany about two years previous, bequeathing to her ten thousand dollars, which sum she had loaned to a gentleman in Louisville,Ky., to invest in the drug business, on condition that she and he were to share the profits; and up to this time the thought had not occurred to her that her money was not perfectly safe. At this point she inquired: “Who is this that is giving this caution?” “B—— W——.” (The name of a friend of hers who had died at Cairo,Ill., some six years before.) Mrs. B. “Why! is my money in jeopardy?” Planchette. “Yes, and needs prompt attention.”My friend C. here asked: “Ought she to go to Kentucky and attend to the matter?” “Yes.”
So strange and unexpected was this whole communication, and so independent of the suggestions of her own mind, that she was not a little impressed by it, and thought it would at least be safe for her to make a journey to Louisville and ascertain if the facts were as represented. But she had at the time no ready money to pay her traveling expenses, and not knowing how she could get the money, she asked: “When shall I be able to go?” “In two weeks from to-day,” was the reply.
She thought over the matter, and the next day applied to a friend of hers, a Mr. W., in Nassau Street, who promised to lend her the money by the next Tuesday or Wednesday. (It was on Thursday that the interview with Planchette occurred.) She came home and remarked to my friend: “Well, Planchette has told one lie, anyhow; it said I would start for Louisvilletwo weeksfrom that day. Mr. W. is going to lend me the money, and I shall start bynextThursday, onlyoneweek from that time.”
But on the next Tuesday morning she received a note from Mr. W. expressing regret that circumstances had occurred which would render it impossible for him to let her have the money. She immediately sought, and soon found, another person by whom she was promised the money still in time to enable her to start a couple of days before the expiration of the two weeks—thus still, as she supposed, enabling her to prove Planchette to be wrong in at least that particular. But from circumstances unnecessary to detail, the money did not come until Wednesday, the day before the expiration of the two weeks. She then prepared herself to start the nextmorning; but through a blunder of the expressman in carrying her trunk to the wrong depot, she was detained till the five o’clockP.M.train, when she started, just two weeks,to the hour, from the time the prediction was given.
Arriving in Louisville, she learned that her friend had become involved in consequence of having made a number of bad sales for large amounts, and had actually gone into bankruptcy—reserving, however, for the security of her debt, a number of lots of ground, which his creditors were trying to get hold of. She thus arrived not a moment too soon to save herself, which she will probably do, in good part, at least, if not wholly—though the affair is still unsettled.
Since this article was commenced, the following fact has been furnished me from a reliable source. It is offered not only for the test which it involves, but also to illustrate the remarkable faculty which Planchette sometimes manifests, of calling things by their right names. A lady well known to the community, but whose name I have not permission to disclose, recently received from Planchette, writing under her own hands, a communication so remarkable that she was induced to ask for the name of the intelligence that wrote it. In answer to her request, the name ofthe late Col. Baker, who gallantly fell at Ball’s Bluff, was given, in a perfectfac-simileof his handwriting. She said to him: “For a further test, will you be kind enough to tell me where I last saw you?” She expected him to mention the place and occasion of their last interview when she had invited him to her house to tea; but Planchette wrote: “In the hall of thieves.” “In the hall of thieves,” said the lady; “what on earth can be the meaning of that? O! I remember that after he was killed, his body was brought on here and laid in the City Hall, and there I saw him.”
In Planchette, public journalists and pamphleteers seem to have caught the “What is it?” in a new shape, and great has been the expenditure of printer’s ink in the way of narratives, queries, and speculations upon the subject. There are now lying before me the following publications and articles, in which the Planchette phenomena are noticed and discussed,—from which we propose to cull and condense such statements of fact as appear to possess most intrinsic interest, and promise most aid in the solution of the mysteries. Afterward we shall discuss the different theories of these writers, and also some other theories that have been propounded.
“Planchette’s Diary,” edited by Kate Field, is an entertaining pamphlet, consisting of details in the author’s experience, with little or no speculation as to the origin or laws of the phenomena. The author herself was the principal medium of the communications, but she occasionally introduces experiences of others. The pamphlet serves to put one on familiar and companionable terms with the invisible source of intelligence, whatever that may be, illustrating the leading peculiarities of the phenomena, giving some tests of an outside directing influence more or less striking, and candidly recording the failures of test answers which were mixed up with the successes. We extract two or three specimens:
“May 26th—Evening. Our trio was reinforced by Mr. B., a clever young lawyer, who regarded Planchette with no favorable eye—had no faith whatever in ‘Spiritualism,’ and maintained that for his part he thought it quite as sensible, if not more so, to attribute unknown phenomena to white rabbits as to spirits.... Planchette addressed herself to Mr. B. thus:‘You do not think that I am a spirit. I tell you that I am. If I am not an intelligence, in the name of common sense what am I? If you fancy I am white rabbits, then all I have to say is, that white rabbits are a deal cleverer than they have the credit of being among natural historians.’Later, doubt was thrown upon the possibility of getting mental questions answered, and Planchette retorted:‘Do you fancy for one moment that I don’t know the workings of your brain? That is not the difficulty. It is the impossibility—almost—of making two diametrically opposed magnetisms unite.’After this rebuke, Mr. B. asked a mental question, and received the following answer:‘I am impelled to say that if you will persevere in these investigations, you may be placeden rapportwith your wife, who would undoubtedly communicate with you. If you have any faith in the immortality of the soul, you can have no doubt of the possibility of spiritual influences being brought to bear upon mortals. It is no new thing. Ever since the world began, this power has been exerted in one way or another; and if you pretend to put any faith in the Bible, you surely must credit the possibility of establishing this subtile connection between man and so-called angels.’This communication was glibly written until within eleven words of the conclusion, when Planchette stopped, and I asked if she had finished.‘No,’ she replied.‘Then why don’t you go on?’ I continued. ‘Ican write faster than this.’Planchette grew exceeding wroth at this, and dashed off an answer:‘Because, my good gracious! you are not obliged to express yourself through another’s brain.’I took it for granted that Planchette had shot very wide of the mark in the supposed response to Mr. B.’s mental query, and hence was not prepared to be told that it was satisfactory, in proof of which Mr. B. wrote beneath it:‘Appropriate answer to my mental question,Will my deceased wife communicate with me?—I. A. B.’”“May 28th. At the breakfast-table Mr. G. expressed a great desire to see Planchette perform, and she was brought from her box. Miss W. was also present. After several communications, Miss W. asked a mental question, and Planchette immediately wrote:‘Miss W., that is hardly possible in the present state of the money market; but later, I dare say you will accomplish what you desire to undertake.’Miss W.‘Planchette is entirely off the track. My question was,Can you tell me anything about my nephew?’Mr. G.‘Well, it is certainly very queer.Iasked a mental question to which this is to a certain extent an answer.’Mr. G. was seated beside me, thoroughly intent upon Planchette. Miss W. was at a distance, and not in any wayen rapportwith me. If this phenomenon of answering mental questions be clairvoyance, the situation of these two persons may account for the mixed nature of the answer, beginning with Miss W. and finishing with Mr. G.”
“May 26th—Evening. Our trio was reinforced by Mr. B., a clever young lawyer, who regarded Planchette with no favorable eye—had no faith whatever in ‘Spiritualism,’ and maintained that for his part he thought it quite as sensible, if not more so, to attribute unknown phenomena to white rabbits as to spirits.... Planchette addressed herself to Mr. B. thus:
‘You do not think that I am a spirit. I tell you that I am. If I am not an intelligence, in the name of common sense what am I? If you fancy I am white rabbits, then all I have to say is, that white rabbits are a deal cleverer than they have the credit of being among natural historians.’
Later, doubt was thrown upon the possibility of getting mental questions answered, and Planchette retorted:
‘Do you fancy for one moment that I don’t know the workings of your brain? That is not the difficulty. It is the impossibility—almost—of making two diametrically opposed magnetisms unite.’
After this rebuke, Mr. B. asked a mental question, and received the following answer:
‘I am impelled to say that if you will persevere in these investigations, you may be placeden rapportwith your wife, who would undoubtedly communicate with you. If you have any faith in the immortality of the soul, you can have no doubt of the possibility of spiritual influences being brought to bear upon mortals. It is no new thing. Ever since the world began, this power has been exerted in one way or another; and if you pretend to put any faith in the Bible, you surely must credit the possibility of establishing this subtile connection between man and so-called angels.’
This communication was glibly written until within eleven words of the conclusion, when Planchette stopped, and I asked if she had finished.
‘No,’ she replied.
‘Then why don’t you go on?’ I continued. ‘Ican write faster than this.’
Planchette grew exceeding wroth at this, and dashed off an answer:
‘Because, my good gracious! you are not obliged to express yourself through another’s brain.’
I took it for granted that Planchette had shot very wide of the mark in the supposed response to Mr. B.’s mental query, and hence was not prepared to be told that it was satisfactory, in proof of which Mr. B. wrote beneath it:
‘Appropriate answer to my mental question,Will my deceased wife communicate with me?—I. A. B.’”
“May 28th. At the breakfast-table Mr. G. expressed a great desire to see Planchette perform, and she was brought from her box. Miss W. was also present. After several communications, Miss W. asked a mental question, and Planchette immediately wrote:
‘Miss W., that is hardly possible in the present state of the money market; but later, I dare say you will accomplish what you desire to undertake.’
Miss W.‘Planchette is entirely off the track. My question was,Can you tell me anything about my nephew?’
Mr. G.‘Well, it is certainly very queer.Iasked a mental question to which this is to a certain extent an answer.’
Mr. G. was seated beside me, thoroughly intent upon Planchette. Miss W. was at a distance, and not in any wayen rapportwith me. If this phenomenon of answering mental questions be clairvoyance, the situation of these two persons may account for the mixed nature of the answer, beginning with Miss W. and finishing with Mr. G.”
Putnam’s Monthly Magazinefor December, 1868, contains an interesting article entitled “Planchette in a New Character.” What the “new character” is in which it appears, may be learned from the introductory paragraph, as follows:
“We, too, have a Planchette, and a Planchette with this signal merit: it disclaims all pretensions to supermundane inspirations; it operates freely—indeed, with extraordinary freedom; it goes at the tap of the drum. The first touch of the operators, no matter under what circumstances it is brought out to reveal its knowledge, sets it in motion. But it brings no communications from any celestial or spiritual sources. Its chirography is generally good, and frequently excellent. Its remarks evince an intelligence often above that of the operators, and its talent at answering or evading difficult questions is admirable. We have no theories about it.”
“We, too, have a Planchette, and a Planchette with this signal merit: it disclaims all pretensions to supermundane inspirations; it operates freely—indeed, with extraordinary freedom; it goes at the tap of the drum. The first touch of the operators, no matter under what circumstances it is brought out to reveal its knowledge, sets it in motion. But it brings no communications from any celestial or spiritual sources. Its chirography is generally good, and frequently excellent. Its remarks evince an intelligence often above that of the operators, and its talent at answering or evading difficult questions is admirable. We have no theories about it.”
It seems, from other passages in the article, that this Planchette disclaimsthe ability to tell anything that is not contained in the minds of the persons present, although it frequently gives theories in direct contradiction to the opinions of all present, and argues them with great persistence until driven up into a corner. It simply assumes the name of “Planchet,” leaving off the feminine termination of the word; and “on being remonstrated with for illiteracy, it defended itself by saying, ‘I always was a badspeler,’—an orthographical blunder,” says the writer, “that no one in the room was capable of making.”
Although the writer in the paragraph above quoted disclaims all theories on the subject, he does propound a theory, such as it is; but of this we defer our notice until we come to put the several theories that have been offered into the hopper and grind them up together; at which time we will take some further notice of the amusing peculiarities of this writer’s Planchette.
TheLadies’ Repositoryof November, 1868, contains an article, written byRev.A. D. Field, entitled “Planchette; or, Spirit-Rapping Made Easy.” This writer mentions a number of test questions asked by him of Planchette, the answers to which were all false. Yet he acknowledges that “the mysterious little creature called Planchette is no humbug; that some mysterious will-power causes it to answer questions, and that it is useless to ignore these things, or to laugh at them.” The writer submits a theory by which he thinks these mysteries may be explained, in a measure, if not wholly, but this, with others, will be reserved for notice hereafter.
Harper’s Monthly Magazinefor December, 1868, contains an article entitled “The Confessions of a Reformed Planchettist.” In this article, the writer, no doubt drawing wholly or in part from his imagination, details a series of tricks which he had successfully practiced upon the credulity of others, and concludes by propounding a very sage and charitable theory to account forallPlanchette phenomena, on which theory we shall yet have a word to offer.
Hours at Home, of February, 1869, contains an article, by J. T. Headley, entitled “Planchette at the Confessional.” In this article, the writer cogently argues the claims of these new phenomena upon the attention of scientific men. He says: “That it [the Planchette] writes things never dreamed of by the operators, is proved by their own testimony and the testimony of others, beyond all contradiction;” and goes so far as to assert that to whatever cause these phenomena may be attributed, “they will seriously affect the whole science of mental philosophy.” He relates a number of facts, more or less striking, and propounds a theory in their explanation, to which, with others, we will recur by-and-by.
The foregoing are a few of the most noted, among the many less important, lucubrations that have fallen under our notice concerning this interesting subject—enough, however, to indicate the intense public interestwhich the performances of this little board are exciting. We will now proceed to notice some of thetheoriesthat have been advanced for the solution of the mystery.
It is supposed that this movement is made either by design or unconsciously, and that the answers are either the result of adroit guessing, or the expressions of some appropriate thoughts or memories which had been previously slumbering in the minds of the operators, and happen to be awakened at the moment.
After detailing his exploits (whether real or imaginary he has left us in doubt) in a successful and sustained course of deception, the writer inHarper’sreaches this startling conclusion of the whole matter:
“It would only write when I moved it, and then it wrote precisely what I dictated. That persons write ‘unconsciously,’ I do not believe. As well tell me a man might pick pockets without knowing it. Nor am I at all prepared to believe the assertions of those who declare that they do not move the board. I know what operators will do in such cases; I know the distortion, the disregard of truth which association with this immoral board superinduces.”
“It would only write when I moved it, and then it wrote precisely what I dictated. That persons write ‘unconsciously,’ I do not believe. As well tell me a man might pick pockets without knowing it. Nor am I at all prepared to believe the assertions of those who declare that they do not move the board. I know what operators will do in such cases; I know the distortion, the disregard of truth which association with this immoral board superinduces.”
This writer has somewhat the advantage of me. I confess I have no means of coming to the knowledge of the truth but those of careful thought, patient observation, and collection of facts, and deduction from them. But here is a mind that can with one bold dive reach the inner mysteries of the sensible and supersensible world, penetrate the motives and impulses that govern the specific moral acts of men, and disclose at once to us the horrible secret of a conspiracy which, without preconcert, has been entered into by thousands of men, women, and children in all parts of the land, to cheat the rest of the human race—a conspiracy, too, in which certain members of innumerable private families have banded together to play tricks upon their fathers, mothers, brothers, and sisters! I feel awed by the overshadowing presence of such a mind—in fact, I do not feel quiteat homewith him, and therefore most respectfully bow myself out of his presence without further ceremony.
As to the hypothesis that the person or persons whose hands are on the board move itunconsciously, this is met by the fact that the persons are perfectly awake and in their senses, and are just as conscious of what they are doing or not doing as at any other time. Or if it be morally possible to suppose that they all, invariably, and with one accord,liewhen they assert that the board moves without their volition, how is it that the answers which they give to questions, some of them mentally, are in so large a proportion of cases,appropriateanswers? How is it, for example, that Planchette, under the hands of my own daughter, has, in numerous cases, given correctly the names of persons whom she had never seen or heard of before, giving also the names of their absent relatives,the places of their residence, etc., all of which were absolutely unknown by every person present except the questioner?
A theory propounded by theRev.Dr. Patton, of Chicago, in an article published inThe Advance, some time since, may be noticed under this head. He says:
“How, then, shall we account for the writing which is performed without any direct volition? Our method refers it to an automatic power of mind separate from conscious volition. * * * Very common is the experience of an automatic power in the pen, by which it finishes a word, or two or three words, after the thoughts have consciously gone on to what is to follow. We infer, then, from ordinary facts known to the habitual penman, thatif a fixed idea is in the mindat the time when the nervous and volitional powers are exercised with a pen, it will often express itself spontaneously through the pen, when the mental faculties are at work otherwise. We suppose, then, that Planchette is simply an arrangement by which, through the outstretched arms and fingers, the mind comes into such relation with the delicate movements of the pencil, that its automatic power finds play, and theideas present in the mind are transferred unconsciously to paper.” (Italics our own.)
“How, then, shall we account for the writing which is performed without any direct volition? Our method refers it to an automatic power of mind separate from conscious volition. * * * Very common is the experience of an automatic power in the pen, by which it finishes a word, or two or three words, after the thoughts have consciously gone on to what is to follow. We infer, then, from ordinary facts known to the habitual penman, thatif a fixed idea is in the mindat the time when the nervous and volitional powers are exercised with a pen, it will often express itself spontaneously through the pen, when the mental faculties are at work otherwise. We suppose, then, that Planchette is simply an arrangement by which, through the outstretched arms and fingers, the mind comes into such relation with the delicate movements of the pencil, that its automatic power finds play, and theideas present in the mind are transferred unconsciously to paper.” (Italics our own.)
That may all be, Doctor, and no marvel about it. That the “fixed idea”—“the ideaspresent in the mind,” should be “transferred unconsciously to paper,” by means of Planchette, is no more wonderful than that the same thing should be done by the pen, andwithoutthe intervention of that little board. But for the benefit of a sorely mystified world, be good enough to tell us how ideas that arenotpresent, and thatnever werepresent, in the mind, can be transferred to paper by this automatic power of the mind. Grant that the mind possesses an automatic power to work ingrooves, as it were, or in a manner in which it has been previouslytrainedto work, as is illustrated by the delicate fingerings of the piano, all correct and skillful to the nicest shade, while the mind of the performer may for the moment be occupied in conversation; but not since the world began has there been an instance in which the mind, acting solely from itself, by “automatic powers” or otherwise, has been able to body forth any idea which was not previously within itself. That Planchette does sometimes write things of which the person or persons under whose hands it moves never had the slightest knowledge or even conception, it would be useless to deny.
That electricity, or magnetism (a form of the same thing), is the agent of the production of these phenomena, is a theory which, perhaps, has more advocates among the masses than any other. It is the theory urged by Mr. Headley with a great amount of confidence in his article already referred to; and with his arguments, as those of an able and, in some sense,representativewriter on this subject, we shall be principally occupied for a few paragraphs.
When this theory is offered in seriousness as a final solution of themystery in question, we are tempted to ask, Who is electricity? what is his mental and moralstatus? and how and where did he get his education? Or if by “electricity” is here simply meant the subtile, imponderable, andimpersonalfluid commonly known by that name, then let us ask, Who is at the other end of the wire?—for there must evidently be awhoas well as awhatin the case. But when the advocates of the electrical theory are brought to their strict definitions, they are compelled to admit that this agent is nothing more than a medium of the power and intelligence that are manifested. Now a medium, which signifies simply amiddle, distinctly implies two opposite ends or extremes, and as applied in this case, one of those ends or extremes must be the source, and the other the recipient of the power or influence that is transmitted through the medium or middle; and it is an axiom of common sense that no medium can be a perfect medium which has anything to do with the origination or qualification of that which is intended simply to flow through it, or which is not absolutely free from action except as it is acted upon. That there are so-called mediums which refract, pervert, falsify, or totally obliterate the characteristics of that which was intended to be transmitted through them, is not to be denied; but these are by no means perfect or reliable mediums, either in physical or psychic matters.
If the little instrument in question, therefore, is, through the medium of electricity or any other agency, brought under perfect control and then driven to write a communication, the force that drives and the intelligence that directs it can not be attributed to the medium itself, but to something behind and beyond it which must embracein itselfall the active powers and qualifications to produce the effect. Now let us see where Mr. Headley gets the active powers and qualifications to produce the phenomena manifested by his Planchette. He shall speak for himself:
“That a spirit, good or bad, has anything to do with this piece of board and the tips of children’s fingers, is too absurd a supposition to be entertained for a moment. We are driven, therefore, to the conclusion that what is written (by honest operators) has its origin either in the minds of those whose hands are on the instrument, or else it results from communication with other minds through another channel than the outward senses. At all events, on this hypothesis I have been able to explain most of the phenomena I have witnessed. I had, with others, laughed at the stories told about Planchette, when a lady visiting my family from the city brought, as the latest novelty, one for my daughter. Experiments were of course made with it, with very little success, till a young lady came to visit us from the West, whose efforts with those of my son wrought a marvelous change. She was modest and retiring, with a rich brown complexion, large swimming eyes, dark as midnight, and a dreamy expression of countenance, and altogether a temperament that is usually found to possess great magnetic power. My son, on the contrary, is fair, full of animal life, and enjoying everything with the keenest relish. In short, they were as opposite in all respects as two beings could well be. As the phenomena produced by electricity are well known to arise from opposite poles, or differently charged bodies, they would naturally be adapted to the trial of Planchette.”
“That a spirit, good or bad, has anything to do with this piece of board and the tips of children’s fingers, is too absurd a supposition to be entertained for a moment. We are driven, therefore, to the conclusion that what is written (by honest operators) has its origin either in the minds of those whose hands are on the instrument, or else it results from communication with other minds through another channel than the outward senses. At all events, on this hypothesis I have been able to explain most of the phenomena I have witnessed. I had, with others, laughed at the stories told about Planchette, when a lady visiting my family from the city brought, as the latest novelty, one for my daughter. Experiments were of course made with it, with very little success, till a young lady came to visit us from the West, whose efforts with those of my son wrought a marvelous change. She was modest and retiring, with a rich brown complexion, large swimming eyes, dark as midnight, and a dreamy expression of countenance, and altogether a temperament that is usually found to possess great magnetic power. My son, on the contrary, is fair, full of animal life, and enjoying everything with the keenest relish. In short, they were as opposite in all respects as two beings could well be. As the phenomena produced by electricity are well known to arise from opposite poles, or differently charged bodies, they would naturally be adapted to the trial of Planchette.”
Mr. H. now finds the mysterious agency, “electricity,” completely unchained, and under the hands of this couple Planchette becomes “very active.” Indifferent to its performances at first, he was induced to give it more serious attention by the correct answers given to a couple of questions asked in a joking manner by his wife, concerning some love affairs of his before they were married, and which were known to none present except himself and wife. Of course these answers, being in his wife’s mind when she asked the question, were supposed to be “communicated through the agency of electricity or magnetism to the two operators,” and the mystery was thus summarily disposed of. But an interest being thus for the first time aroused in Mr. H.’s mind, he proceeds to inquire a little further into the peculiarities of this new phenomenon, and proceeds as follows:
“Seeing that Planchette was so familiarly acquainted with my lady friends, I asked it point blank: ‘Where is Mary C——?’ This was a friend of my early youth and later manhood, who had always seemed to me rather a relative than an acquaintance. To my surprise it answered, ‘Nobody knows.’I supposed I knew, because for twenty years she had lived on the Hudson River in summer, and in New York in the winter.‘Is she happy?’ I asked. ‘Better be dead,’ was the reply.‘Why?’ ‘Unhappy’ was written out at once.‘What makes her unhappy?’ ‘Won’t tell.’‘Is she in fault, or others?’ ‘Partly herself.’I now pushed questions in all shapes, but they were evaded. At last I asked, ‘How many brothers has she?’‘One,’ was the response. ‘That,’ said I, ‘is false;’ but not having heard from the family for several years, I asked again, ‘How manydidshe have?’ ‘Three.’ ‘Where are the other two?’ I continued. ‘Dead.’‘What is the name of the living one?’ ‘John.’ I could not recollect that either of them bore this name, but afterward remembered it was that of the eldest. Now I had no means of ascertaining whether this was all true, but convinced it was not, I began to ask ridiculous and vexatious questions, when the answers showed excessive irritation, and finally it wrote ‘Devil.’ I then said: ‘Who are you?’ ‘Brother of the Devil.’‘What is your occupation?’ ‘Tending fires.’‘What are you going to do with me?’ ‘Broil you.’‘What for?’ ‘Wicked.’Now while I was excessively amused at all this, I noticed that the two young operators were greatly agitated, and begged me to stop. I saw at a glance that the very superstitious feeling that I was endeavoring to ridicule away, was creeping over them, and I desisted.... Another day I asked where a certain gentleman was who failed years ago, taking in his fall a considerable amount of my own funds. I said ‘Where is Mr. Green?’ ‘In Brazil.’‘Will he ever pay me anything?’ ‘Yes.’‘When?’ ‘Next year.’‘How much.’ ‘Ten thousand dollars.’Neither of the operators knew anything about this affair, and the answer, ‘Brazil,’ was so out of the way and unexpected, that all were surprised. Whether the man was there or not, I could not tell, nor did I know if he ever had been there—indeed, the last time I heard from him he was in New York.”
“Seeing that Planchette was so familiarly acquainted with my lady friends, I asked it point blank: ‘Where is Mary C——?’ This was a friend of my early youth and later manhood, who had always seemed to me rather a relative than an acquaintance. To my surprise it answered, ‘Nobody knows.’
I supposed I knew, because for twenty years she had lived on the Hudson River in summer, and in New York in the winter.
‘Is she happy?’ I asked. ‘Better be dead,’ was the reply.
‘Why?’ ‘Unhappy’ was written out at once.
‘What makes her unhappy?’ ‘Won’t tell.’
‘Is she in fault, or others?’ ‘Partly herself.’
I now pushed questions in all shapes, but they were evaded. At last I asked, ‘How many brothers has she?’
‘One,’ was the response. ‘That,’ said I, ‘is false;’ but not having heard from the family for several years, I asked again, ‘How manydidshe have?’ ‘Three.’ ‘Where are the other two?’ I continued. ‘Dead.’
‘What is the name of the living one?’ ‘John.’ I could not recollect that either of them bore this name, but afterward remembered it was that of the eldest. Now I had no means of ascertaining whether this was all true, but convinced it was not, I began to ask ridiculous and vexatious questions, when the answers showed excessive irritation, and finally it wrote ‘Devil.’ I then said: ‘Who are you?’ ‘Brother of the Devil.’
‘What is your occupation?’ ‘Tending fires.’
‘What are you going to do with me?’ ‘Broil you.’
‘What for?’ ‘Wicked.’
Now while I was excessively amused at all this, I noticed that the two young operators were greatly agitated, and begged me to stop. I saw at a glance that the very superstitious feeling that I was endeavoring to ridicule away, was creeping over them, and I desisted.... Another day I asked where a certain gentleman was who failed years ago, taking in his fall a considerable amount of my own funds. I said ‘Where is Mr. Green?’ ‘In Brazil.’
‘Will he ever pay me anything?’ ‘Yes.’
‘When?’ ‘Next year.’
‘How much.’ ‘Ten thousand dollars.’
Neither of the operators knew anything about this affair, and the answer, ‘Brazil,’ was so out of the way and unexpected, that all were surprised. Whether the man was there or not, I could not tell, nor did I know if he ever had been there—indeed, the last time I heard from him he was in New York.”
Now, observing that no conscious or intelligent agency in shaping these answers is assigned to the young persons whose hands were upon the board, and who, it appears, did not know anything of the persons concerning whom the inquiries were made, it would, perhaps, as we desire nothing but a true philosophy on this matter, be worth while to look a little critically at the answers and statements that were given, and the further explanations propounded by Mr. H. For convenience, they may be classified as follows:
1. Answers that were substantially in the interrogator’s own mind when he asked the questions. Such were the answers to the questions: “How many brothersdidshe [Mary C——] have?” “Where did sheformerlylive?” He tells us that “the pencil slowly wrote out in reply: ‘Catkill,’ leaving out thes;” and adds: “of course, this place was in my mind, though neither of the young people knew anything about the lady or her residence.”
2. Answers which he does not know were in his mind, but supposes they must have been. Thus, in his own language, while commenting on the answers to questions respecting Mary C—— and her brothers: “Nor can I account for the answer ‘Unhappy,’unless unconsciously to myselfthere passed through my mind that vague fear so common to us all when we inquire about friends of whom we have not heard for years. The death of the two brothers baffled all conjectureunless I rememberedthat during the war I saw the death of a young man of the same name, and I wondered at the time if it was one of these brothers—whether they had joined the army.” (The Italics our own.) So also of Planchette’s answers to the questions respecting Mr. Green, locating him in Brazil, and saying that he intended to pay him (Mr. H.) ten thousand dollars next year, while Mr. G. had last been reported to Mr. H. as being in New York, and the latter did not know that he had ever been in Brazil. But Mr. H., after thinking over a certain conversation which he had previously had with Mr. Green respecting a business journey he had made to “South America,” remarks: “Brazil doubtless often occurred to me—in fact, I was conscious on reflection that I had more frequently located him in that country than in any other. So when the question was put, it would involuntarily flash over mewithout my being conscious of it, ‘I wonder if he has gone back to South America, and if his venture is in Brazil?’Magnetism caught up the flashing thought and put it on paper.” (Italics our own.) Such is his hypothesis to explain an hypothesis!
3. Answers which he not only knows he had not in his mind when the questions were asked, but which were directlycontraryto his mind or opinion. Such were answers to several of the questions occurring in the conversation about Mary C——, as, “better be dead;” “unhappy;” fault “partly herself;” has “one” brother; which latter statement was so directly contrary to his mind that he even pronounced it “false,” until he thought to inquire, “How manydidshe have?”
4. Answers which were not only not in his mind, but which he directly pronounces “false” and thus dismisses them. Such, for instance, is the answer “Nobody knows,” to the question “Where is Mary C——?” “That this,” says he, “was false, is evident on the very face of it.”
With this analysis of the leading phenomena cited by Mr. H. before us, lot us look at the wonderful things which “electricity and magnetism” are made to accomplish.
I do not dispute that there is such a power of the human mind as that known as clairvoyance. I have had too many proofs of this to doubt it. But I have had equally positive proofs that the development of its phenomena is dependent upon certain necessary conditions, among which are, that the agent of them, in order to be able to reveal the secret thoughts of another, must possess by nature peculiar nervous susceptibilities, enabling his psychic emanations, so to speak, to sympathetically coalesce with those of the person whose thoughts and internal mental states are to be the subject of investigation. But this sympathetic coalescence can not take place where there is the slightest psychic repulsion or antagonism to the clairvoyant on the part of the interrogating party. Moreover, even when all these conditions are present, nothing can be correctly read from the mind of the questioner unless there is on his mind aclear and distinct definitionof the matters of which he seeks to be told.
But even in class No. 1 of the above series we find that “electricity,” hitherto believed to be only an imponderable and impersonal fluid, has, upon Mr. H.’s theory, been able to accomplish the revealment of secret thoughts entirely independent of all these conditions. It is distinctly stated that those young persons whose hands were on the Planchette knew nothing whatever of the matters which formed the several subjects of inquiry; and for aught that is stated to the contrary, they appear to have been perfectly awake and in their normal state. In addition to this, it is to be observed that Mr. Headley here appears in the assumed character of a captious, contentious, and somewhat irritating questioner, which, whether he intended it or not, was entirely the opposite of that harmonious and sympathetic interflow of mental states known in other cases to be necessary to a successful clairvoyant diagnosis of inward thoughts. And yet “electricity” overleaps all these obstacles, seizes facts that occurred many years previous, some of which were known only to Mr. H. and wife, others only to Mr. H. himself, and instantly flashes forth the appropriate answer! Here is science! If there were no other phenomena connected with Planchette, this alone might well challenge the attention of philosophers!
But if this is wonderful, what shall we think of the achievements of this same “electricity” and “magnetism” in revealing facts of the second class—facts which the questioner himself did not and does not nowknowwere in his mind, but onlysupposes they must have been? Think of a diffused element of nature, which, from the dawn of creation had been blindand dead, and only passively obedient to certain laws of equilibrium, suddenly assuming intelligence and volition, burrowing into a man’s brains, rummaging among ten thousand thoughts, emotions, and experiences stored up in the archives of his memory, and finally coming to the mere fossil of a (supposed) experience from which the last vestige of memory-life had departed, and seizing this incident, it moves the little board with an intelligent volition, and lo, the fact stands revealed.
And again, what of that spicy colloquy in which Planchette writes the words “devil,” “devil’s brother,” “stir fires,” “broil you,” etc.? Oh, Mr. H. tells us, “That was owing to the irritation of the mediums, their horror and fright, their superstition, and their repugnance to the questions that were being asked.” Curious, is it not? to see “electricity” seizing hold of this irritation, that horror, the other fright, and such and such a superstition, repugnance, and disgust, and, carefully arranging these mental emotions, building them up by a mysterious mason-work into a distinctly defined and sharply pronounced individuality, with a peculiar moral and intellectual character of its own, differing more from each and all of the parties present in the flesh than any one of the latter differed from another! And this individuality, too, putting forth a volition which was nottheirvolition, moving the Planchette whichtheydid not move, making and arranging letters whichtheydid not make and arrange, writing intelligent words and sentences whichtheydid not write, and then causing this creation to assume the name and character of a regularly built “devil”—a character which appears to have been so far from these young persons’ minds that they were unwilling to look it in the face, and were sorely afraid of it! Surely, if “electricity” can do all this, then “electricity” itself is the “devil,” and the less mankind have to do with it the better.
But more wonderful still. It appears that “electricity” can give answers, of which not even the slightest elements previously existed in the mind of the questioner or any of the company, and which were even diametricallycontraryto his mind; as in the answers of class No. 3. Here “electricity” swings loose, and, becoming completely independent, commences business on its “own hook.” Not only so, but it even goes so far beyond the sphere of Mr. H.’s mind as tofiba little, giving at least two answers which this writer pronounced “false,” as noted in class No. 4—thus giving a still more signal display of its independent powers of invention—naughty invention though it was.
Seriously, had not friend Headley better employ his fine talents in giving us another clever book or two about “Washington and his Generals,” and leave Mr. Planchette, and that more wonderful personage, Mr. Electricity, to take care of themselves? We are obliged here to part company with Mr. H., and pass on for the purpose of having a few words under this same head with the reverend author of “Planchette, or Spirit-Rapping Made Easy,” in theLadies’ Repository.
I find it difficult to get at the idea of this writer, if indeed he himself has any definite idea on the subject. By the title of his article, however, and several expressions that occur in the body of it, he seems to associate the performances of the Planchette with a somewhat extensive class of phenomena, in which spirit-rappings, table-tippings, etc., are included. He says: