CHAPTER VI

Previous

THE EXPERIMENTS OF COUNT DE GASPARIN

One of the most important series of experiments that has been made on the subject of moving tables is that of Count AgÉnor de Gasparin at Valleyres, Switzerland, in September, October, November, and December of the year 1853. The Count has published formal reports of these studies in two large volumes.[51] These sÉances may be called purely scientific, for they were conducted with the most scrupulous care and were under the severest control. The table usually employed had a round oak top thirty-two inches in diameter, which rested on a heavy three-footed central column, the feet being about twenty-two inches apart. There were usually ten or twelve experimenters, and they formed the chain on the table by touching each other with their little fingers in such a way that the thumb of the left hand of each operator touched that of his right hand, and the little finger of the right hand touched that of the left hand of his neighbor. In the opinion of the author, this chain is useful, but not absolutely necessary. The rotation of the table usually began after a waiting of five or ten minutes. Then it lifted one foot to a height that varied from time to time, and fell back again. The levitation took place even when a very heavy man was seated on the table. Rotations and levitations were obtained without the contact of hands. But let us hear the author himself:

It is a question of positive fact that I wish to solve. The theory will come later. To prove that the phenomenon of turning tables is real and of a purely physical nature; that it can neither be explained by the mechanical action of our muscles nor by the mysterious action of spirits,—such is my thesis. It is my wish to state it with precision and circumscribe its limits here at the very start. I confess I find some satisfaction in meeting with unanswerable proofs the sarcasms of people who find it easier to mock than to examine. I am well aware that we have got to put up with that. No new truth becomes evident without having been first ridiculed. But it is none the less agreeable to reach the moment when things assume their legitimate place, and when rÔles cease to be inverted. This moment might have been long in coming. For a long time I feared that table-phenomena would not admit of a definite scientific demonstration; that, while they inspired absolute certainty in the minds of the operators and witnesses at first hand, they would not furnish irrefutable arguments to the public. In the presence of bare possibilities, each person would be free to cherish his own particular opinion; we should have had believers and sceptics. The classification would have taken place in virtue of tendencies rather than by reason of one's knowledge or ignorance of the facts. Some, in the agreeable sensation of their intellectual superiority, would have carried their head very high, and others would have abandoned themselves in despair to the current superstitions of the day. The truth incompletely demonstrated would have been treated as a lie, and, what is worse, would have ended by becoming such.

But thank God! it will not be so now. Our meetings were real and formal sÉances, to which the best hours of the day were given. The results, verified with the most minute care, were embodied in formal and official declarations. I have these procÈs-verbaux before me now, and it seems to me that I could not do better than to take up one after another and extract from each the interesting observations it may contain. I shall thus follow the method of certain historians, and relate the truth rather than systematize it. The reader will, as it were, follow us step by step. He will examine and check my various assertions by comparing them; he will form his own conviction, and will judge whether my proofs have that character of frequent occurrence, of persistency, of progressive development which false discoveries, based upon some fortuitous and poorly described coincidence, never have.

These are promising premises. We shall see whether the promises will be kept. The report (or minutes) of the first meeting bears the date of September 20, 1853. Numerous sÉances had been held before, but it had not been thought necessary to write down the results. What those results were will be seen by the following brief account:

Only those have an invincible conviction (writes Count de Gasparin) who have participated in sÉance studies frequently and directly, who have felt under their very fingers the production of those peculiar movements which the action of our muscles cannot imitate. They know the limitations of their powers and where to stop. For they have seen the table refuse to rotate at all, in spite of the impatience of the investigators, and in spite of their clamorous appeals. Then again, they have been present when it started to move so gently, so softly and spontaneously started, it can be said, under fingers which hardly touched it. They have at times seen the legs of the table (riveted by some enchantment to the floor) refuse to budge on any terms, in spite of the incitement and coaxing of those who composed the chain. On other occasions they have seen the same table-legs perform levitations that were so free and energetic that they anticipated the hands, got the start of the orders, and executed the thoughts almost before they were conceived, and with an energy well-nigh terrifying. They have heard with their own ears stunning raps and gentle raps, the one threatening to break the table, the others of such incredible fineness and delicacy that one could scarcely catch the sounds, and none of us could in any degree imitate them. They have remarked that the force of the levitations is not diminished when the sitters are removed from the side of the table that is to form the fulcrum. They have themselves commanded the table to lift that one of its legs over which rest the only hands that compose that portion of the chain still remaining, and the leg has risen as often and as high as they wished. They have observed the table in its dances when it beats the measure with one foot or with two; when it reproduces exactly the rhythm of the music that has just been sung; when, yielding in the most comic way to the invitation to dance the minuet, it takes on grandmotherly airs, sedately makes a half turn, curtsies, and then comes forward turning the other side! The manner in which the events took place told the experimenters more than the events themselves. They were in contact with a reality which soon made itself understood.

The persevering experiments we had made before the 20th of September had already given us proof of two principal things,—the levitation of a weight that the muscular action of the operators was powerless to move, and the reproduction of numbers by mind reading.

I shall now give the formal declarations or reports, by Count de Gasparin, or at least the essential parts of them. I shall present them here as the author has done, sÉance after sÉance. The reader will judge. He is urged to read the reports with the greatest attention. They are scientific documents of the highest value, and quite as important as the preceding ones.

SÉance of September 20

Some one proposed the experiment which consists in causing a table to rotate and give raps while it has on it a man weighing say a hundred and ninety pounds. We accordingly placed such a man on the table, and the twelve experimenters, in chain, applied their fingers to it.

The success was complete: the table turned, and rapped several strokes. Then it rose up entirely off the floor in such a way as to upset the person who was upon it. Let me be permitted here, in passing, to make a general remark. We had already had numerous meetings. Our experimenters, among whom were several young ladies of delicate physique, had worked with very unusual perseverance and energy. Their bodily fatigue at the end of each sitting was naturally very great. It seems as if we should therefore have expected some nervous collapses more or less grave, to show themselves among us. If explanations based upon involuntary acts performed in a state of extraordinary excitement had the least foundation in fact, we should have had trances, almost possessions, and, at any rate, nervous attacks. Now, in spite of the exciting and noisy character of our meetings, it did not happen, in five months time, that any one of us experienced a single moment of indisposition or sickness of any kind. We learned something more: when a person is in a state of nervous tension, he or she becomes positively unfit to act upon the table. It must be handled cheerfully, lightly, and deftly, with confidence and authority, but without passion. This is so true that the moment I took too much interest in things I ceased to obtain obedience. If, on account of public discussions in which I had been engaged, I chanced to desire success too ardently and to grow impatient over delay, I had no longer any control over the table; it remain inert.

SÉance of September 24

We began pretty poorly, and were almost inclined to think that the net result of the day's experiments would be limited to the two following observations, which have their value, to tell the truth, and which our experience has always confirmed: First, there are days when nothing can be done, nothing prospers, although the sitters are as numerous, as strong, and as excited as ever,—which proves that the movements of the table are not obtained by fraud or by the involuntary pressure of the muscles. Second, there are persons (those among others who are sickly or fatigued) whose presence in the chain is not only of no use, but even detrimental. Destitute themselves of the fluidic force, they seem, besides, to hinder its circulation and transmission. Their good will, their faith in the table are of no avail; as long as they are there the rotations are feeble, the levitations spiritless, the drafts drawn on the table are not honored; that one of its feet facing them is especially struck with paralysis. Beg them to retire, and immediately the vitality appears again and everything succeeds as if by magic. Indeed, it was only after we had taken this course that we finally obtained the free and energetic movements to which we had been accustomed. We had become quite discouraged; but when the purging of which I have just spoken took place, lo, what a change! Nothing seems difficult to us. Even those who (like myself) ordinarily have only mediocre success, now think of numbers and make the table rap them out with complete success, or with the slight imperfection (that frequently occurs) of a tap too many, owing to the delay in giving the mental order to stop the taps.

Seeing that everything was going according to our wish, and having decided to try the impossible, we next undertake an experiment which marks our entrance into a wholly new phase of the study and places our former experimental demonstrations under the guarantee of a positively irrefutable demonstration. We are going to leave probability behind and dwell with evidence. We are going to make the table move without touching it. And this is how we succeeded that first time:

At the moment when the table was whirling with a powerful and irresistible rotation, at a given signal we all lifted our fingers. Then keeping our hands united by means of the little fingers, and continuing to form the chain at a height of say an eighth or a quarter of an inch above the table, we continued our circular movement. To our great surprise the table did the same; it made in this way three or four turns! We could scarcely believe our good fortune; the by-standers (witnesses) could not keep from clapping their hands. And the way in which the rotation took place was as remarkable as the rotation itself. Once or twice the table stopped following us because the little accidents and interruptions of our march had withdrawn our fingers from their regular distance from the top of the table. Once or twice the table had come to life again—if I may so express myself—when the turning chain had again got into the right relation with it. We all had the feeling that each hand had carried along in its course that portion of the table immediately beneath it.

SÉance of September 29

We were naturally impatient to submit rotation without contact to a new test. In the confusion of the first success we forgot to renew and vary this decisive experiment. When we got to thinking about it afterwards we saw that it behooved us to do the thing over again with more care and in the presence of new witnesses; that it was, above all, important to produce the movement and not merely to continue it, and to produce it in the form of levitations instead of limiting it to rotations. Such was the program of our meeting of September 29. Never was program carried out with greater precision. As a preliminary, we repeated our successful feat of the 24th. While the table was rotating rapidly, the interlocked hands were lifted from it, though continuing to turn above it and form the chain. The table followed, making now one or two revolutions, and now a half or a quarter turn only. The success, more or less prolonged, was certain. We confirmed it several times. But some one might say that, the table being already in motion, the momentum carried it along mechanically while we imagined it was yielding to our fluidic force. The objection was absurd, and we would have challenged anybody to obtain a single quarter of a turn without forming the chain, however rapid might have been the rotation imparted. Above all, would we have challenged anyone to renew its motion when it had been for an instant suspended. However, it is well in such cases to forestall even absurd objections, however little of plausibility they may have. And this particular objection might seem plausible to the inattentive man. It was imperative, then, that we should produce rotation starting from a state of complete inertia. This we did. The table being as motionless as we were, the chain of hands parted from it and began to turn slowly at a height of about three-eighths of an inch above its edge. In a moment the table made a slight movement, and each of us striving to draw along by his will that part situated under his own fingers, we succeeded in drawing the disk in our train. The details that followed resembled those of the preceding case. There is such difficulty in maintaining the chain in the air without breaking it, in keeping it near the border of the table without going too quick and thus destroying the harmonious relation established, that it often happens that the rotation stops after a turn or a half-turn. Yet it is sometimes prolonged during three or even four revolutions. We expected to encounter still greater obstacles when we should undertake levitation without contact. But the matter turned out quite otherwise. This is easily explained when we remember that in this ease there is no circular movement and it is much easier to maintain the normal position of the hands above the table. The chain, then, being formed at a distance of an eighth of an inch or so above the round top of the table, we ordered one of its legs to lift itself up, and it did so.

We were highly delighted, and repeated this pretty experiment many times. Without touching it in any way, we ordered the whole table to rise into the air, and to resist the witnesses, who had to put forth effort to bring it down to the floor. We commanded it to turn bottom side up, and it fell over with its feet in the air, although we never touched it with our fingers, but kept them in advance of it as it fell, at the distance agreed upon.

Such were the essential results of this meeting. They are such that I hesitate to mention in the same connection incidents of secondary importance.

I will only say, in passing, that the sÉance was very discouraging at the start; for, not only was it found necessary to remove certain new operators, but several of the old ones did not bring to it their usual high spirits. The table responded poorly; raps were made faintly and as if with reluctance; the telepathic reading of numbers did not succeed. Then we took a resolution from which we derived much benefit: we persevered, and persevered gaily; we sang, we made the table dance; we gave up all thoughts of new experiments and persisted in easy and amusing ones. After a while conditions changed; the table fairly bounded, and hardly waited for our orders; we were now in condition to try more serious things.

SÉance of October 7

A long meeting, and very fatiguing. It was principally devoted to the trial of various mechanical devices which had no success whatever,—such as metal rings; frameworks of canvas or of paper placed upon the table; plates on pivots and spring-keys. Whether the sight of all this gear hindered the radiation of the fluidic force from the operators, whether the contrivances themselves stopped its circulation in the table, or whether, in fine, the natural conditions of the phenomenon were disturbed in some other way, it is certain that the results amounted to nothing or were doubtful.

One new experiment succeeded. A plate turning on a pivot held a tub. I filled this tub with water, and two of my collaborators and I plunged our hands into it. We formed the chain and began a circular walk, being careful not to touch the tub. This at once imitated our movement. We repeated the thing several times in succession.

Since it might be supposed that the impulse given to the water would suffice to set in motion a tub resting on so delicately balanced a plate, we at once proceeded to prove the contrary. The water was given a circular whirl causing it to move with much greater rapidity than when we formed the chain; but the tub moved not a peg. Undoubtedly the point remains to be considered whether one of us three did not touch the inside of the tub and so determine its movement. To that I reply, first, that the way in which our hands were held in the water obviously proves that none of our fingers could really touch bottom; secondly, that, taking pains as we did to form the chain at the centre, it would have been scarcely less difficult for us to touch the vertical sides of the tub.

And yet, the doubt being not wholly inadmissible, I class this experiment among those of which I do not purpose to make any use. I wish to show that I am hard to please in the matter of evidence.

The proof which the rapping of numbers by mind-reading furnishes has always seemed to be one of the most convincing. In the sitting I am describing, it had this special feature, that each of the ten operators in turn received the communication of a number in writing, the others having their eyes shut. Now, in the whole ten, one alone failed to obtain perfect obedience from the table-leg which had been assigned to him by very suspicious witnesses, or by-standers. If my readers will reflect carefully they will see that the combinations of movements communicated and of cheating tricks which such a solid result as this would require passes far beyond the bounds of admissible things. To justify it the objector must invent a miracle much more astounding than ours.

Let us turn again to the finest of all demonstrations, that of levitation without contact. We began by performing it three times. Then, since it was thought by some that the inspection of the witnesses could be carried on in a surer way in the case of a small table than in that of a large one, and with five operators more certainly than with ten, we had a plain deal centre-table brought which the chain, reduced by half, sufficed to put in rotation. Then the hands were lifted, and, contact with the table being entirely broken, it rose seven times into the air at our command.

SÉance of October 8

Two circumstances occurred to confirm the results we had obtained in preceding sÉances. Among the numbers selected for the thought-test the roguery of one of the witnesses had placed a zero, and the leg selected by him to respond was at the left of the operator and beyond the reach of his muscular action. Now, the command having been given to the leg and no action resulting, we were all feeling disconsolate, being convinced that our weakness that day was so great that we were not going to obtain even simple levitations. I affirm most emphatically that if movement had ever been imparted by an experimenter to a table leg, it would have appeared at that moment. Our nerves were in an exalted state and our impatience was at its height. Yet no movement of the table took place, and we were consequently all the more solaced when we learned that the figure communicated had been a cipher.

Movement without contact was accomplished twice.

To our experiment of a table that gave raps while having a man upon it, it had been objected that this man might lend his aid to the movement, and even incite it in part. Determined to seek out the truth with the most anxious care, we had recognized a certain plausibility in this objection, and had decided to meet it fairly. The being who was living, intelligent, and consequently suspected must be replaced by an inert weight. Buckets filled with sand must be placed in the precise centre of the table, which should then be called on to exhibit its skill.

But the day was badly chosen. After we had placed on the table two buckets, one upon the other, both weighing in all 143 pounds, it was discovered that we were unable to produce the levitation. It was necessary for us to content ourselves with continuing them in circular movement after they had been started. The buckets were removed, the table was set in motion, and the buckets replaced while the movement was at its height. They did not arrest it in the least, but were carried around with such force that the sand flew out on all sides.

The remainder of the sitting was given up to an investigation of the subject of (alleged) divination, or guessing.

When the table was asked to guess something known to one of the members of the chain, it pretty frequently and quite naturally happened that it guessed it. It is the case of thought-reading by numbers,—nothing more, nothing less.

When it is asked to guess a thing known to a member of the company who does not form at the time a part of the chain, it happens sometimes that it guesses it. But the person in question must be endowed with great fluidic power and be able to exercise it at a distance. We did not ourselves obtain anything like this; but others have succeded, and their testimony seems too well established to be called in question.

Up to the present moment, it is plain, there is not the least trace of divination. It is fluidic action, near-by or distant.

If the tables divine, if they think, if there are spirits, we ought to get decisive responses in the case where no one knows the facts, either in the chain or out of the chain. The problem thus stated, the solution is not difficult.

Take a book. Do not open it, but invite the table to read the first line of the page you will designate,—say page 162 or page 354. The table will not flinch: it will rap, and will compose words for you. It was thus, at least, that it always acted with us. At any rate, one thing is certain, that neither here nor elsewhere, has any spirit, however cunning, read, this simple line; nor will it be able in the future to do so. I recommend the experiment to the partisans of spirit evocations.

As to the test of pieces of money in a purse, hours, playing-cards etc., the tables betake themselves to a strict calculation of probabilities; they guess just as much as you do, or as I do. Inasmuch as it is a question of small numbers of which one can form in advance an approximate idea, the range of possible combinations is not very extensive. The mind fixes upon a number which has a fairly good chance of being the true one, and the proportion between the failures of the table and its successes is in such a case just what it would be apart from all question of miraculous divination.

SÉance of November 9

Before entering upon the description of this sitting,—a very remarkable one,—I will say that neither the thermometer nor the mariners' compass have furnished the slightest indication of anything interesting. I thought I ought to note this, in passing, to show to the reader that we did not neglect to employ instruments which seemed likely to put us in the way of obtaining a scientific explanation. In general, I pass by that phase of our work, as well as the different trials which remained merely trials, and did not lead to any positive results.

Our first care was to renew the experiment of the levitation of an inert weight. It was agreed among us this time that we would always start from the state of absolute immobility in the object: we wanted to produce movement, not to continue it.

The centre of the table, then, having been fixed with nice precision, a first tub of sand, weighing 46 pounds, was placed upon it. The legs easily rose from the floor when they got the order.A second tub, weighing 42 pounds, was next placed in the middle of the other. They were both lifted—less easily, but very neatly and clearly.

Then a third tub, smaller, and weighing 28? pounds, was placed on top of the two others. The levitations took place.

We had still further got ready enormous stones weighing altogether 48½ pounds. They were placed on the third tub. After rather long hesitation, the table lifted several times in succession each of its three legs. It lifted them with a force, a decision, an Élan, which surprised us. But its strength, already put to so many proofs, could not resist this last one. Bending under the powerful swaying motion imparted by the total mass of 165 pounds, it suddenly broke down, and its massive centre-post was split from top to bottom—to the great peril of the operators on the side of whom the entire load rolled off.

I shall not stop to comment on such an experiment. It answers all demands. Our united muscular force would not have sufficed to determine the movements that took place. A mass of inert matter free from the suspicion of being obliging, had replaced the person whose complicity was held in suspicion. Finally, when the three legs had been lifted, each in turn, critics no longer had as a resource the insinuation that we had caused the weight to be laid more on one side than on the other.

Inasmuch as our poor table had been wounded on the field of honor and could not be repaired on the spot, we got a new one which much resembled it. But it was a little larger and a little lighter.

The interesting point was to be settled whether we were going to be obliged to wait for it to be charged with the psycho-physical fluid. The occasion was a famous one for solving this important problem: Where does the fluid reside?—in the operators or in the piece of furniture. The solution was as prompt as it was decisive. Scarcely had our hands, in chains, been placed upon this second table than it began to revolve with the most unexpected and the most comic rapidity! Evidently, the fluid was in us, and we were free to apply it in succession to different tables.

We lost no time. In the mood in which we then were, movement without contact must succeed better than ever. Nor did we deceive ourselves in so thinking. We first developed rotations without contact to the number of five or six.

As to levitations without contact, we discovered a method of proceeding that renders their success easier. The chain, formed a few millimetres above the top disk, is arranged so as to go in the direction in which the movement is to take place; the hands the nearest to the leg called on to rise are outside of and beyond the top; they draw near and pass gradually by, while the hands that are opposite, and which had at first advanced toward the same leg, move away from it while they attract it. It is during this progression of the chain, while all our wills are fixed upon a particular spot on the wood, and when the orders to levitate are forcibly given, that the foot quits the ground and the table-top follows the hands,—to the point of upsetting, if one did not keep hold of it.

This levitation without contact was produced about thirty times. We produced it by each of the three legs in succession, in order to remove every pretext for criticism. Moreover, we watched the hands with scrupulous care. If the reader will please observe that this surveillance was exercised during thirty operations without detecting the slightest contact, I think it will be concluded that the reality is henceforth placed beyond all doubt.

SÉance of November 21

The chief characteristic of this sÉance was the absence of that one of our number who exercised the greatest authority at the table.[52] In working without her we were put in a position to establish two things: first, that one cannot with impunity do without an extraordinary gifted experimenter; and, second, that one can, nevertheless, do without him or her, if it is absolutely necessary, and that success, although less brilliant in this case, is not impossible. I call special attention to this last point, as well as to the frequent modifications of our personnel, for the benefit of suspicious persons who, not knowing the mental worth of the persons in question, might be disposed to place to the account of their dexterity the results to which they essentially contribute. The psycho-physical working power of a "sensitive" table-turner is of a mixed nature: a resolute posture and a circular movement are not sufficient to give birth to it. Besides this, and above all, there is needed the will.

Our will having at last asserted itself, and muscular pressure having yielded its place to the pressure of commands, the fluidic rotation arrives, after five or six minutes of concentration of our thoughts. We felt, indeed, keenly that some important person was lacking and that we did not possess our usual power. However, we were determined to succeed, even at the price of greater mental fatigue.

So we took up boldly our most difficult feat; namely, movements without contact. Rotations without touch were obtained thrice. I should add that they were very incomplete,—a quarter of a turn, or a half-turn at most.

As to levitations without touch our success was more decisive; but it was purchased at the price of a very considerable expenditure of force. After each levitation we had to rest, and, when we had reached No. 9 we were absolutely obliged to stop, overcome with fatigue. One must have had personal knowledge of such experiments to understand what drafts they make upon one's attention and energy, and at what point it is indispensible to will, and to will peremptorily, that such and such a knot of wood in the table shall follow the opened fingers that are alluring it at a distance.

But be that as it may, our attempt was crowned with success, and we could end the sitting with less exhausting exercises.

The idea came to us then and there to try our powers on a large table with four legs. It had often been claimed that three-legged centre-tables alone would respond to our manipulations. It was time to furnish undeniable proof to the contrary. So we took a table three feet five inches in diameter, a folding half of which (independent of the leg that supports it when it is raised) can be turned up at will.

Scarcely were our fingers in place than the table began a rotation with noisy bustle, the sprightliness of which surprised us. It thus showed that tables with four legs were no more refractory than others. In addition to this, it furnished a new argument in favor of one of our former observations,—that the fluid is in the persons and not in the tables. In fact the movement of the large table took place almost immediately, and before it could be considered as charged with fluid.

The next task before us was to make it give raps with its different legs. We began with those fastened to one half of the top, three in number. They rose from the floor two at a time with such force that at the end of a moment one of the casters flew to pieces.[53] Now it is difficult to form an idea of the intensity which a fraudulent action of the fingers must have acquired in order to exercise a leverage upon so heavy a table, and launch it into the air to such a height.

There remained the leg of the table which was independent of the top. We thought it would obey as well as the others. But no! In vain did we pour out the most prodigal and pressing invitations: it was never willing to rise, either along with its right-hand neighbor or with its neighbor on the left. Our next thought was that this was due to the persons placed near it, and certain members of the chain changed seats. In vain! All combinations failed one after another.

We drew great deductions from this circumstance. But since it was refuted later, when the contumacious leg yielded perfect obedience at another meeting, I will not take the public into our confidence by a display of our reasonings on the subject. I will only ask that two things be noted; first, the care we took to verify many times the phenomena before affirming them; and, second, that we have here once more a fine refutation of the critics who assert that muscular action can explain everything. If this were so, why did not muscular action lift the free leg as well as those fastened tight to the table? It could have done so just as easily; and yet for some unknown reason, but one evidently foreign to the laws of mechanics, only the attached legs consented to move.

SÉance of November 27

We were in full muster; but two or three of the operators were slightly indisposed. On the whole, whatever was the cause, the occasion was scarcely remarkable for anything except the almost total absence of fluidic power. For a single moment we had a little of it. A half-hour of action and two hours and a half of inertia—this was our net result.

Nothing was more lamentable, and at the same time more curious, than to see us about the different tables, passing from one to another, enjoining them to do the most elementary things, and only obtaining a weak and languid rotation, which soon stopped altogether.

SÉance of December 2

I should have been vexed to have to close my recital with so dull and spiritless a record as the preceding one. By good fortune the last of our reports gives me the right to leave a totally different impression on the reader's mind.

We were in fine temper. Perhaps the beautiful weather helped. It is not the first time I have noticed this. What is certain is that the very same persons who, on November 27, had only a half-hour of success and had passed the rest of the sitting in beseeching in vain for anything better than poor abortive rotations or faint raps, to-day governed the table with an authority, a quickness, and, if I may so put it, an elasticity of bearing that left nothing to be desired.

The large table with four legs was set in motion. And this time, the ease with which the free leg lifted its share of the table proved that we were right in not drawing too definite conclusions from its former refusal. Every time that we tried to lift without contact that part of the table the farthest removed from myself I felt the table-leg nearest me gradually approach and press against my leg. Struck with this occurrence, which took place several times I drew the conclusion that the table was gliding forward, not having enough force to rise. We were, then, exercising a perceptible influence on this large table without touching it in any way.

In order the better to assure myself of it, I left the chain and observed the movement of the feet of the table on the floor. It ranged from fractions of an inch to several inches. When we then tried to turn up without contact the folding leaf of a gaming-table covered with cloth, we obtained the same result: the folding leaf would not yield to our influence, but the entire table advanced in the direction of the prescribed movement. Now, I ought to add that the gliding was not at all easy, for the floor of our room was rough and uneven.

It is interesting to note in this connection the moment when this gliding movement ordinarily begins. It occurs at precisely the same time that the levitation without contact takes place when that manifestation is in process. When the portion of the chain which is pushing on has just advanced beyond the side of the table-top, where it begins to turn, and when that portion of the chain that is pulling has just crossed the middle point in its recession, then the ascensional movement—or, in default of that, the gliding motion—manifests itself. Our fluidic power is then at its maximum, precisely at the instant when our mechanical power is at its minimum, when the hands that are pushing have ceased to act (supposing the case of fraud) and when the hands that pull are powerless to act.

Let us now revert to our ordinary table. We tried to produce rotations and levitations without contact, and had complete success.

Such reports as the foregoing are of more value than all the dissertations. They show the undeniable reality of the levitation not total, but partial,—of the table which remained in an oblique position poised on two legs only. They show also rotations and levitations without contact, as well as glidings under the influence of a natural force hitherto only slightly studied.

Levitations of a heavy table, having on it a man weighing 191 pounds, or of tubs of sand and stones weighing 165 pounds,—no denial of these occurrences can be admitted.

The same is true of the movements of the table dancing in accordance with the rhythm of certain airs, of its over-turnings, of its obedience to the orders given. These facts have been observed precisely as mechanical, physical, chemical, meteorological, astronomical facts have been observed.To the above reports I will add here a supplementary experiment described in the preface of Count de Gasparin's book:

Certain distinguished savants to whom I had communicated the results we had secured, agreed in assuring me that levitations without contact would have the character of absolute certain proof if we succeeded in verifying them by the following practical device: "Sprinkle flour upon the table," they said, "at the instant your hands have just left it; then produce one or more levitations; finally assure yourselves that the layer of flour bears not the slightest sign of any touch, and all objectors will be dumb."

Why, it is precisely this experiment that we have performed successfully several times. Let me give a few details:

Our first trial had succeeded very badly. We used a coarse sieve which we had to move to and fro over the entire table. This produced the double inconvenience; first, of suspending too long, and so of nullifying the action of the operators; and, secondly, of spreading a layer of flour much too thick. The buoyant spring and impulse of the wills of the operators was abated, the fluidic action was thwarted, the table-top got chilled down, so to speak; nothing moved. The mischief went so far that the table not only refused us levitations and rotations without contact, but almost all the ordinary ones.

Then a brilliant idea came to one of us. We possessed one of those bellows used in blowing sulphur upon vines attacked by the grape-mildew. In place of sulphur we put flour into it, and, so prepared, began the test.

The conditions were most favorable. The weather was dry and warm, the table went leaping under our fingers, and, indeed, before the order to lift hands had been given, the greater part of the band of us had spontaneously ceased to touch the table-top. Then the command rings out; the whole chain lifts up from the table, and at the same instant the bellows covers its entire surface with a light dusting of flour. Not a second had been lost; the levitation without contact had already taken place. But to leave no doubt, the thing was repeated three or four times in succession.

That done, the table was scrupulously examined; no finger had touched it, or even grazed it in the slightest degree.

The fear of grazing it involuntarily had even been so great that the hands had acted fluidically from a height much greater than in previous sittings. Each one had thought he could not raise his hands too high, and the hands removed to such a distance from the top, had not had recourse to any of the manoeuvres or passes of which we had at other times made use. Keeping its place, above the table to be lifted, the chain had preserved its form intact; it had made hardly a perceptible motion in the direction of the movement it was producing at a distance from the table.

I will add, finally that we did not content ourselves with a single experience. A careful inspection following each of several levitations, always showed that the dust-like layer of flour was absolutely untouched; and no portion of the table had escaped its tell-tale coat of white.

The author of these reports himself estimates as follows the results he has recorded:

The phenomena observed confirm and elucidate each other. Large four-legged tables compete with three-legged ones. Inert weights, placed on these, come forward as substitutes for persons suspected of giving a helping hand to the table charged with the task of lifting them. At last the great discovery arrives in its turn: we begin by continuing without contact movements already initiated, and we end by producing them; we succeed almost in creating the process, to such an extent that these extraordinary facts manifest themselves sometimes in an uninterrupted series of fifteen or thirty performances. The glidings round out the subject by throwing light on one phase of action at a distance: they reveal it as powerless (at times) to lift the table, but able to draw it along over the floor.

Such is the rapidly sketched account of our progress. Taken just by itself alone, it constitutes a solid proof and I recommend a study of it to serious men. It is not thus that error proceeds. Illusions originating in accident, or chance, do not thus resist a long study, and do not pass unmasked through a long series of experiments that justify them more and more.

The reading of numbers in others' minds, and the balance of forces, merit special consideration.

When all the operators but one are ignorant of the number to be materialized by raps, the operation (unless it is fluidic) ought to proceed either from the person who knows the number and furnishes at once the movement and the arrest, or else it ought to proceed from a relation instinctively established between that person who furnishes the arrest and his vis-À-vis who furnishes the movement. Let us examine both hypotheses.

The first is untenable; for, in the case where some one chooses a leg of the table upon which the operator who knows the number can exercise no muscular action, the leg thus designated none the less rises at his command.

The second is untenable; for, in the case where some one indicates a zero, the movement which ought to take place does not do so. Nay more. If you place at loggerheads two persons placed on opposite sides of the table and enjoin each to make a different number triumph, the more powerful operator secures the execution of the chief number although his vis-À-vis is interested not only in not furnishing it to him, but in arresting it.

I know that this matter of the divining of numbers thought of is in bad odor. It lacks a certain pedantic and scientific form. Yet I have not hesitated to insist on it; for there are few experiments in which is better manifested the mixed character of the phenomenon,—physical power developed and applied outside of ourselves by the effect of our will. Just because it forms the great offense, or stumbling block, I am unwilling to be shame-faced about it. I maintain, besides that this is just as scientific as anything else. True science is not tied to the employment of such and such a process or such and such an instrument. That which a fluidometer would show would be no less scientifically demonstrated than what is seen with the eyes and estimated by the reason.Let us go on, however. We have not yet reached the end of our proofs. One of these has always especially struck me: I mean the proof derived from failures.

It is claimed that the movements are produced by the action of our muscles, by involuntary pressure. Now here are the same operators who yesterday secured from the table the fulfilment of their most capricious desires; their muscles are as strong, their vivacity is as great, their desire to succeed is perhaps keener—and yet nothing! absolutely nothing! A whole hour will pass without the least rotation beginning; or, if there are rotations, levitations are impossible to procure; what little is done by the table is done feebly, dismally, and as if reluctantly. I repeat it again, the muscles have not changed; then why this sudden incapacity? The cause remaining identically the same, whence comes it that the effect varies to such a degree?

"Ah!" says an objector, "you are talking of involuntary pressure, and say nothing about voluntary pressure, of fraud, in short. Don't you see that the cheaters may be present at one sitting and not appear at another, that they may act one day and not give themselves the trouble on the next?"

I will reply very simply, and by facts.

"The cheaters are absent when we do not succeed!" But it has happened many a time that our personnel has not been changed in any way. The same persons, absolutely the same, have passed from a state of remarkable power to a state of comparative impotence. And that is not all. If there exists no operator whose presence has preserved us from failures, no more does any exist whose absence has rendered us incapable of success. With and without each one of the members of the chain we have succeeded in performing all the experiments,—all without exception.

But 'the cheaters do not take so much pains every day!' The pains would be great indeed, and those who infer fraud little think what prodigies they are invoking. The accusation is an absurdity which verges on silliness, and its silliness removes its sting. One does not take offense at things like that. But come now, let us suppose for the moment that Valleyres were peopled with disciples of Bosco, that prestidigitation were generally practised there, and that it had been thrust under our very eyes for five months, and under the eyes of numerous and very suspicious witnesses without a single case of perfidy having been pointed out. We have so well concealed our game that we have invented a secret telegraphic code for the experiment of reading numbers, a particular turn of the finger for moving the most enormous masses, a method of gradually lifting tables that we do not seem to touch. We are all liars, all; for we have been mutually watching each other for a long time now, and do not denounce anybody. Nay, more, the contagion of our vices is so swift to take that, as soon as we admit a stranger, a hostile witness, into the chain, he becomes our accomplice; he voluntarily closes his eyes to the transmission of signals, to muscular efforts, to the repeated and prolonged suspicious actions of his next neighbors in the chain! Well and good; suppose we grant all that, we shall not have got farther along for that. It will still remain to be explained why our cheaters sometimes do nothing at the very moment when it would be to their interest to succeed. It has happened, indeed, that a certain sitting at which we had many witnesses and a great desire to convince turned out to be a mediocre one. Such and such another, under the same conditions, was, on the contrary, a brilliant success.

There you have real and important inequalities, and they dare to talk to us of muscular action and of fraud.

Fraud and muscular action! Here for instance is a fine opportunity to put them to the proof. We have just placed a weight on the table. This weight is inert and cannot be accessory to any device. Fraud is all around it perhaps, but it is not in the tubs of sand. This weight is equally divided among the three legs of the table, and they are going to prove it by each one rising in turn. The total load weighs 165 pounds, and we scarcely dare to increase it, for, as it is, it was enough, one day, to break our very solid table. Very well; now let someone try to move this weight. Since muscular action and fraud must explain everything, it will be easy for them to put the mass in motion. Now they cannot do it. Their fingers contract and the knuckles whiten without their obtaining a single levitation, whereas, some moments later, levitations will take place at the touch of the same fingers, which gently graze the table's top and make no effort at all, as any one may easily convince himself.

Certain very ingenious scientific rules of measurement, for the invention of which I cannot claim the credit, put us in the way of translating into figures the effort which the rotation or levitation of the table demands, when loaded in the way just described. With the above-mentioned weight of 165 pounds, rotation is secured by means of a lateral traction of about 17½ pounds, while levitation is only obtained by a perpendicular pressure of 132 pounds at least (which I will reduce, however, to 110, in deference to the presumed wishes of the critic, and on the supposition that the pressure might not be absolutely vertical). Several deductions are to be drawn from these figures.

In the first place, muscular action may cause the table to turn, but it cannot lift it. As a matter of fact, the ten operators have one hundred fingers applied to its surface. Now, the vertical, or quasi-vertical, pressure of each finger cannot exceed twelve ounces on the average, the chain being composed as it is. They only develop, then, a total pressure of 66 pounds, which is quite insufficient to produce levitation.

In the next place, this striking thing befalls, that the phenomenon which muscular action could easily produce is precisely the one that we most rarely and with the greatest difficulty obtain, and that the phenomenon which muscular action could not compass is the one the most habitually realized when the chain is formed. Why does not our involuntary impulse always make the table turn? Why should not our "fraud" always procure such a triumph? Why, as a general thing, do we only succeed in effecting that which is mechanically impossible?

I advise people who like to make fun of table-turnings not to investigate them too closely, and to beware of giving too careful attention to our supreme demonstration,—that of movements without contact, for it will leave them not the slightest pretext for incredulity.

Thus the fact is established. Multiplied experiments, diverse and irrefutable proofs, which are, moreover, joined in the closest solidarity, give to the fluidic action the stamp of complete certainty. Those who have had the patience to follow me thus far will have felt their suspicions vanishing one after another, and their faith in the new phenomenon more and more strengthened. They will have made good what we ourselves have substantiated and made good; for no one has opposed more difficulties to table-turning than have we, no one has shown himself more inquisitorial and exacting respecting them.

It is not our fault if the results have been conclusive (and more and more so), nor ours the blame if they have reciprocally confirmed each other, if they have ended by forming one body and taking on the character of perfect evidence. To study, to compare, to repeat and repeat again, and to finally exclude all that admits of doubt or question—this was our duty. Nor have we failed to perform it. I make no affirmations in these reports which I have not proved over and over again.

Such are the memorable experiments of the Count de Gasparin. Their worth will be appreciated by all who read them. I have been anxious to reproduce these careful reports; for they establish of themselves the absolute and undeniable reality of these movements that contradict the normal law of gravitation. Let us hear the Count's explanatory hypotheses.

The reader will have noticed the care I have taken to confine myself to the verification of the facts, without hazarding any explanatory hypothesis. If I have employed the word "fluid," it was to avoid circumlocutions. Strict scientific precision would have demanded that I always write "the fluid, the force, or physical agent whatever it may be." I shall be pardoned for having been a little less exact than this in my language. It was enough that my thought was perfectly clear. That we have to do with a fluid, properly so called, in the phenomena of table turning and lifting I cannot absolutely affirm. I affirm that there is an agent, and that this agent is not supernatural, that it is physical, imparting to physical objects the movements which our will determines.

Our will, I have said. And this is in fact the fundamental idea we have gathered out of this subject of a physical agent. It is this which characterizes it, and it is this also which compromises it in the eyes of a good many folks. They might, perhaps, be resigned to a new agent, if it were the necessary and exclusive product of the hands forming the chain, if only it were true that certain positions or certain acts insured its manifestation. But this is not the case with it: the mental and the physical must combine in order to give it birth. Here are hands that tire themselves out in forming the chain, and yet obtain no movement: the will has not been mingled in the act. Here is a will that commands in vain: the hands have not been placed in a suitable position.

We have thrown light upon both these sides of the phenomenon, for they are both essential.

Another fact has been noted by us, and ought to enter into a description of the physical agent in question: this agent inheres in the persons and not in the table. Let the operators, when they are in rapport, pass to a new table and encircle it: they will be able immediately to exercise all their authority over it; their will will continue to dispose of the physical agent and to make use of it for rapping numbers mentally selected by persons present or for producing movements without contact.

Such are the facts. The explanation of them will come later. It is, however, very natural to want to find this at once, and to make hypotheses which may be regarded as possible, if not true. I have taken the risk of doing this, and I do not repent of it. Was it not imperative to prove to our opponents that they have not even the pretext of "a scientific impossibility"? Hypotheses have their legitimate place and their utility, even if they are incorrect. If they are admissible in themselves, that is sufficient, for that defends the facts to which they are applied from the accusation of monstrosity. The critic has no longer the right to demand the previous question.Seeing that it was asked for on all sides, I have risked the following statement:

You assert that our pretensions are false, for the simple reason that they cannot be true! Very well. But, at all events, allow me to lay before you certain postulates. Suppose, in the first place, that you do not know everything, that the moral and even the material nature of man have obscurities which you have not been able to remove. Suppose that the smallest blade of grass springing up in the field, that the smallest grain reproducing its kind, that the finger of your hand in the act of executing the order you give it, enclose mysteries that surpass the powers of the learned doctors to fathom, and which they would declare absurd if they were not compelled to recognize them as real. Then, in the second place, suppose that certain men who will so to do, and whose hands are joined one to another in a certain way, give birth to a fluid or to a special kind of force. I do not ask you to admit that such force exists; you will only agree with me that it is possible. There is no natural law opposed to it that I know of.

Now, let us take one more step. The will disposes of this fluid. It gives an impulse to external objects only when we will it, and in quarters selected by us. Would there be anything impossible in this? Is it an unheard-of thing that we transmit movement to matter that is outside of ourselves? Why, we do so every day, and every instant; our mechanical action is nothing more or less than this. The horrible thing in your eyes doubtless is that we do not act mechanically! But there is something besides mechanical action in this world. There are physical causes of movement that are something else than this. The caloric that penetrates a living body produces dilatation there; that is to say, universal movement. The loadstone placed in the neighborhood of a piece of iron attracts it, and makes it leap across the intervening space.

"Yes," some one will exclaim, "we should make no objection, provided your pretended fluid did not obey one special direction in its progress. If it went straight on, as a blind force, well and good! It would then be like the caloric, that dilates everything it meets in its passage. It would be like the magnet which attracts indiscriminately toward a fixed point all the particles of iron in its vicinity. As for you, your invention of the theory of a rotative fluid calls vividly to mind the explanation of the dormitive properties of opium."

It is impossible to more completely misunderstand things. No one dreams of a "rotative fluid." All we maintain is, that, when the fluid is emitted and imparts either repulsion or lateral attraction to a piece of furniture resting on legs, a very simple mechanical law transforms the lateral action into rotation.

I do not say, "The tables turn because my fluid is rotative." I say, "The tables turn, because, when they receive an impelling force or undergo an attraction, they cannot help turning." Stated in this way, it is a little less naÏve. Consequently, I should be under no obligation to undertake the cause of the poor university scholar of the Malade Imaginaire, and defend his famous reply: "Opium facit dormire quia est in eo virtus dormitiva" ("opium puts people to sleep because it has the sleep-producing virtue or property"). Nevertheless, I can't help it, out it must come: I find the reply an excellent one. I doubt whether the savants have found a better one to this day, and I advise them to resign themselves sometimes to the following kind of reasoning: "Opium puts us to sleep because it puts us to sleep; things are because they are." In other words, I see the facts and do not know the causes. I do not know. "I do not know!" terrible words, which one finds difficulty in pronouncing! Now, I suspect very strongly that the sly roguishness of MoliÈre is for the benefit of the doctors, who pretend to know everything, invent explanations which do not explain, and do not know how to accept the facts while waiting for more light.

But there is more to come. The hypothesis of the fluid (a pure hypothesis, remember) must still prove that it is a hypothesis reconcilable with the different circumstances of the phenomenon. The table does not merely turn: it lifts its legs up, it raps numbers mentally indicated to it; in a word, it obeys the will, and obeys it so well that the removal of contact does not terminate its obedience. The impelling force or lateral attraction which account for rotations cannot account for levitations.

But why? Because the will directs the fluid now into one leg of the table, now into another. Because the table identifies itself with us, after a fashion, becomes a limb of our own body, and produces movements thought of by us in the same manner as our arm produces them. Because we have no conscious knowledge of the direction imparted to the fluid, and govern the movements of the table without imagining that any kind of fluid or force whatever is in action.

In all our acts, in all without exception, we have no consciousness of the direction imparted by our will. When you explain to me how I lift my hand, I will explain to you how I make the table-leg rise from the floor. I "willed to raise my hand." Yes, and I also willed to lift this table-leg. As for the executing of the mandates of the will, the putting into play of the muscles required to lift the hand, or of the fluid-power required to lift the table-leg, I have no knowledge of what passes in me apropos of this. Strange mystery, and one which ought to inspire in us a little modesty! There is in me an executive power, a power of such a nature that, when I have willed such or such an act, it addresses detailed orders to the different muscles and sets in motion a hundred complicated movements to bring about a final result which has been merely thought of, merely willed. That miracle goes on within me, and I understand it not at all, and never shall understand it. Do you not agree that the same executive power can give to the fluid the directions it gives to the muscles? I have willed to play a sonata on the piano, and, unknown to me, something within me has given orders to hundreds of thousands of muscular acts. I have willed that the leg of this table should be lifted up, and, unknown to me, something within me has directed the attractions and impulsions of the fluid to the designated place.

The hypothesis of a fluid is, then, defensible. It accords with the nature of things and with the nature of man. I have no wish to go farther and furnish at once a definitive explanation. But I am not worrying. Let the facts once be admitted, and explanations will not be wanting. What seems impossible now will seem very simple then. About incontestable things no trouble is made. We are so constituted that, after we have asserted the impossibility of everything we do not comprehend, we declare comprehensible all that we have recognized as real. People are everywhere to be met with who shrug their shoulders when you speak to them of table-turnings and who make nothing of the Puck-like performance of the electric current in putting the girdle of its circuit around the earth in the fraction of a moment, and who find the miracle of the transmission of the mental and moral qualities of the fathers to the children a very simple thing to understand! The tables of the psychic experimenter cannot escape the common lot. Their phenomena, absurd to-day, are to-morrow self-evident.

These experiments of Count de Gasparin and his associates have been known for over half a century, and it is really incomprehensible that even the fact of the levitation of tables and of their movements has continued to be denied. Verily, if the tables are sometimes light, it must be confessed that the human race is a little heavy.

As to the theory, the hypothesis of the fluid,—felix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas (Happy the man who can know the cause of things)—I shall return to this matter in the chapter on explanatory theories. But it is incontestable that, in such experiences, we act by means of an invisible force emanating from us. One must be blind not to admit that.

After a series of experiments so admirably conducted we can understand that the author might well be allowed to indulge in a little derision of obstinately prejudiced unbelievers. In closing this chapter, I cannot forego the pleasure of citing Count de Gasparin apropos of the learned negations of Babinet and his emulators of the Institute.

The savants are not the only ones to stand on their dignity. I also stand on mine, and I make bold to think that a certificate signed with my name would not be rated by anybody as a piece of imposture or frivolity. It is known that I am in the habit of weighing my words; it is known that I love the truth, and that I will not sacrifice it on any consideration; it is known that I prefer to admit an error rather than persist in it; and when, after a long-continued inquiry, I persist with a firmer and profounder conviction than ever, the import or scope of the declaration I make is not to be misapprehended.

I can tell you, in the next place, that the testimony of the eyes has, in my opinion, a scientific value. Independently of instruments and figures, on which I set the highest values, I believe that the true seeing of things may serve. I believe that this also is of itself an instrument. If a sufficient number of good pairs of eyes have ascertained and proved, ten, twenty, a hundred times, that a table is put in motion without contact; if, furthermore, the explanation of the fact by fraudulent or involuntary contacts passes the limits which must be assigned to incredulity, the conclusion is clear. Nobody is warranted in crying out: "You have neither fluidometer nor alembic; you do not give a specimen of your physical agent in a bottle; you do not describe how it acts upon a column of mercury or upon the dip of a needle. We don't believe you, for you have done nothing but see."

"I do not believe you because you have done nothing but see!" "I do not believe you because I have not seen with my own eyes!" So many pedants, so many objections. They hardly take the trouble to agree among themselves; in a war waged against the tables any weapon is fair, nothing comes amiss.

I do not wish to forget that scientists were still talking only of rotations at the moment when Faraday invented his disks.[54] In the presence of a phenomenon so inadequate, and, let us admit it, so suspicious, we can understand how the savants showed themselves sceptical and contented themselves with flimsy refutations. They proportioned the number and size of their weapons to the appearance of the enemy. The one among them who showed the most penetration, and who proposed the most plausible explanation, is most assuredly Chevreul. His theory of the tendency to movement is incontestably true. It explains how the objects we suspend from our finger finally take a vibratory movement in the direction indicated by our will. I am not astonished that some have thought this theory sufficient to explain how experimenters can, in the end, impart a rotation to the table and participate in the movement themselves. I need not say that our proved levitations of weights, and our movements without contact, will not henceforth permit anyone to take refuge in such an explanation. If all the tendencies to movement were united into one they would not be able to produce at a distance an impelling power, nor move a mass that mechanical action could not set in motion.

Really, the learned doctors ought not to throw out to the public these explanations which do not explain. They ought rather to get to work and show us, in fact, how to set about the lifting directly and mechanically of a weight of 220 pounds without applying to the task a force of 220 pounds.

But they prefer to use insulting expressions, and then proceed to invent some theory or other which has only one little fault—that it has no legs to walk with. The recent article of M. Babinet in the Revue des Deux Mondes is a masterpiece in its way. If I needed to be convinced of the reality of the phenomena of table-turning, etc., I should most assuredly have been convinced by the reading of this refutation of it.

In the opinion of M. Babinet, the phenomena of the tables offer no difficulty whatever! Happy science of physics, happy science of mechanics which has an answer ready for everything! We poor, ignorant fellows thought we had detected something extraordinary, and did not know we were merely obeying two extremely elementary laws,—the law of unconscious movements, and, above all, that of nascent movements, movements the power of which seems to surpass that of developed movements.

As far as regards unconscious movements, M. Babinet adds nothing to previous explanations—nothing but the story of that lord (an English lord, he says) whose horse was so admirably trained that it seemed as if it were only necessary for one to think the movement one wished to have him execute, and he instantly realized it. I am thoroughly convinced, as is M. Babinet, that the aforesaid lord gave an impulse to the bridle without suspecting it, and I am just as thoroughly convinced that the experimenters whose hands are touching a table may exert a pressure of which they are not conscious. Only—I think there should be some proportion between the cause and the effect. Suppose the movements are unconscious: they are none the less vigorous for all that. The burden is upon M. Babinet and his followers, to prove that the very same fingers that in vain clench themselves till they are stiff in the endeavor to lift a weight of eighty-eight pounds, will lift double this weight by simply being unconscious that they are making any effort.

My honorable and learned opponent will not hear of movements obtained without contact. "Everything that has been said about action exercised at a distance ought to be banished to the realm of fiction." The judgment is curt and summary. Movements without contact are a fiction,—first because they are impossible; secondly because powdered soapstone has hindered the rotation of a table; and, finally, because perpetual movement is impossible.

Movements at a distance are impossible! To be strictly logical, M. Babinet ought to have stopped there, remembering the reply made by Henry IV to the magistrates who had thus begun an address to him:

"We did not give a salute of cannon on the approach of Your Majesty, and that for three good reasons. In the first place, because we had no cannon—"

"That reason is sufficient," said the king.

We are fain to believe that M. Babinet himself has little doubt about his "impossibility." He has acted wisely in doing so; for this impossibility is based entirely on a vicious circle of reasoning. "Is there a single known example of movement produced without a force acting from the outside? No. Well, movement at a distance would very plainly take place by an active external force. Therefore movement at a distance is impossible." I feel very much disposed to say to M. Babinet, in the technical language of the schools, that his major premise is true and that his conclusion would be legitimate if his minor were not purely and simply a begging of the question. You claim that there is no active force exterior to the table which lifts it without the touch of the hands. But that is precisely the point at issue between us. A fluid is an external active force. It is handy for my critic, indeed, to begin by establishing this axiom. Now (he says), there is no fluid, or analogous physical agent, in the case of the tables; therefore there is no effect produced.

The learned gentlemen, Faraday, Babinet, and others, do not limit themselves to objections derived from nascent or unconscious movements, small causes producing great effects. They have still another method of proceeding. If an experiment has succeeded it has no longer any value. Oh, if one could succeed in performing such another experiment, well and good! But this would not hinder the new experiment from becoming insignificant in its turn and giving place to a new desideratum. The phrasing runs somewhat in this way:

"You are doing such and such a thing. Very well; but now let us see you do a different thing. You are employing such or such a method; be pleased to be contented with those which we prescribe you. To succeed in your way is not enough; you must succeed in ours. Your way is not scientific; it runs contrary to the traditions. We shut the door in the face of facts if they do not come in the regulation claw-hammer coat of full dress. We shall pay no attention to your experiments if our experimental apparatus does not figure in them."

Strange way of verifying and establishing the results of experiments! You begin by changing the conditions under which they are produced. You might as well say to the man who has seen the harvesting of barley in Upper Egypt in January, "I will believe it when I see it done before my eyes in Bourgogne." One can understand, of course, how an unreasonable and troublesome fastidiousness might be shown regarding travellers' tales. But scientific experiments are of another character. In the presence of facts so evident, it is almost incredible that they wish to impose upon us instruments, needles, and mechanical devices. The idea of introducing becauses and therefores into an investigation in which the real nature of the acting force is a mystery to all the world!

Polemical essays are not scientific studies. In general, they are the direct opposite. When persons who have seen nothing, who have not devoted any considerable portion of their energy and time to experimentation, who have perhaps been present only at some ridiculous rotations of centre-tables, take their pen in hand for the purpose of exposing theories or giving lofty reprimands to experimenters, I do not look at them in the light of scientific students.

I am convinced that a man never really studies that which he declares a priori to have no sense in it. If attacks are studies, there is no lack of them, and (I may add) never will be. At the time when the Academy of Medicine buried the report of M. Husson and published what everybody in Europe persisted in calling a refusal to examine, there was issued every morning a paper against magnetism; every morning some new writer vociferated that the partisans of magnetism were imbeciles, and proposed an explanatory system of his own. If you call that making a study, then I grant that they have studied table-turnings, for there certainly has been no dearth of insults and of theories about these phenomena. They have received every attention, except that no one was willing to inspect, experiment, listen, and read.

Twice, a month apart, the Institute has announced (without protest from anybody whatever) to the students of table-turnings that it was shelving papers relating to that topic; that it was not obliged to occupy itself with nonsense; that there was a place in its archives for lucubrations of that kind; namely, the place to which were consigned papers on perpetual motion.Oh, MoliÈre! why are you not present with us? But, in reality, you are here. Your genius has limned with ineffaceable lines that everlasting disease of venerable big-wigs and mouldy specialists,—disdain of the laity, respect for their fellow-members, idolatry of the past. A most singular deformity, this! And it appears in all ages, in various disguises, in the midst of all branches of human activity, now in the name of religion, now in that of medicine, and again in the name of science or of art. Yes, even surviving the wreck of revolutions which spare nothing, appearing even within the walls of learned academies the members of which write for the furtherance of the great movements of modern progress, one thing remains,—the spirit of partisanship, of cliques, the spirit of tradition, the superstitious regard for forms.

Really, it would seem as if people must be still taking Bible oaths like those in the baccalaureate ceremony at the end of MoliÈre's Malade Imaginaire. M. Foucault is fond of this scene, and will therefore not take it ill if I recall to his mind a couple of stanzas:

Essere in omnibus
Consultationibus
Ancieni aviso,
Aut bono,
Aut mauvaiso.
Juro!
De non jamais te servire
De remediis alcunis
Quam de ceux soulement doctÆ facultatis,
Maladus dut-il crevare,
Et mori de suo malo.
Juro![55]If you don't call that a refusal to examine, I don't know what the words mean in good French.

With such ingenious candor and with such authority did the Count AgÉnor de Gasparin express himself in the year 1854. It seems to me that the experiments made known in this volume furnish abundant evidence that he is right.

Yet I have still friends, at the Institute, who smile with the utmost scorn when I ask their opinion on the phenomena of the levitation of tables, the movement of objects without perceptible cause, unexplained noises in haunted houses, communication of thought at a distance, premonitory dreams, and apparitions of the dying. Although these unexplained phenomena have undeniably been proved to be facts of occurrence, those learned friends of mine remain convinced that "such things as that are impossible."


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

Clyx.com


Top of Page
Top of Page