_Harper's Monthly Magazine_ for December, 1868, contains an article ent.i.tled "_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 for _all_ Planchette 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, ent.i.tled "_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 a.s.sert 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 interest which the performances of this little board are exciting. We will now proceed to notice some of the _theories_ that have been advanced for the solution of the mystery.

THEORY FIRST--THAT THE BOARD IS MOVED BY THE HANDS THAT REST UPON IT.

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 in _Harper's_ reaches 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 a.s.sertions 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 a.s.sociation 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 quite _at home_ with 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 it _unconsciously_, 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, _lie_ when they a.s.sert 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, _appropriate_ answers? 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 the Rev. Dr. Patton, of Chicago, in an article published in _The 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, that _if a fixed idea is in the mind_ at 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 the _ideas 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 ideas _present 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, and _without_ the intervention of that little board. But for the benefit of a sorely mystified world, be good enough to tell us how ideas that are _not_ present, and that _never were_ present, 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 in _grooves_, as it were, or in a manner in which it has been previously _trained_ to work, as is ill.u.s.trated 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.

THEORY SECOND--IT IS ELECTRICITY, OR MAGNETISM.

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 ma.s.ses 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, _representative_ writer on this subject, we shall be princ.i.p.ally occupied for a few paragraphs.

When this theory is offered in seriousness as a final solution of the mystery in question, we are tempted to ask, Who is electricity? what is his mental and moral _status_? and how and where did he get his education? Or if by "electricity" is here simply meant the subtile, imponderable, and _impersonal_ fluid commonly known by that name, then let us ask, Who is at the other end of the wire?--for there must evidently be a _who_ as well as a _what_ in 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 a _middle_, 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 embrace _in itself_ all 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."

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, 'n.o.body 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 many _did_ she 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 superst.i.tious 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 a.s.signed 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 cla.s.sified 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 brothers _did_ she [Mary C----] have?" "Where did she _formerly_ live?" He tells us that "the pencil slowly wrote out in reply: '_Catkill_,' leaving out the _s_;" 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 myself_ there pa.s.sed 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 conjecture _unless I remembered_ that 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 me _without 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 directly _contrary_ to 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 p.r.o.nounced it "false," until he thought to inquire, "How many _did_ she have?"

4. Answers which were not only not in his mind, but which he directly p.r.o.nounces "_false_" and thus dismisses them. Such, for instance, is the answer "n.o.body knows," to the question "Where is Mary C----?" "That this," says he, "was false, is evident on the very face of it."

With this a.n.a.lysis 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 a _clear and distinct definition_ of the matters of which he seeks to be told.

But even in cla.s.s 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 a.s.sumed 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 cla.s.s--facts which the questioner himself did not and does not now _know_ were in his mind, but only _supposes they must have been_? Think of a diffused element of nature, which, from the dawn of creation had been blind and dead, and only pa.s.sively obedient to certain laws of equilibrium, suddenly a.s.suming 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.