How I Came to Study Spiritual Phenomena: A Chapter of Autobiography

IT was a quarter of a century after the time when I had shocked the orthodoxy of New York by preaching Secularism, and had dreamed dreams, and published them, of national industrial schools that were to dissipate poverty and to regenerate a superstitious world. I had been representative in the State legislature, member of Congress, delegate to the Constitutional Convention of Indiana; and had finally been appointed to represent my adopted country at a foreign court.

During all that period, though my thoughts had been chiefly engrossed by public affairs, they had turned, from time to time, to religion; and the theoretical opinions of earlier years had insensibly undergone some change. I had gradually reached the conclusion that our consciousness enables us to conceive of a great Originating Mind; that such a Supreme Intelligence must be benevolent, and that it would be well for man if he could obtain certain proof of a life to come. Then I began to hope that there might be such proof; though, so far, I had failed to find it in historical documents, sacred or profane.

I had been two years and a half resident in picturesque and stand-still Naples, where, except to the privileged foreigner, all spiritual studies were forbidden. I had heard of the “ Rochester Knockings,” wondering what supreme folly would come up next; and though, in passing through London on the way to Italy, my good father, recently convinced that spiritual manifestations were a reality, had taken me to two or three sittings, I saw nothing there to change my opinion that it was all imposture or selfdelusion.

Then it was — in my fifty-fifth year, at about the same age when Swedenborg turned from science to Spiritualism — that there came to me, by what men are wont to call chance, one of those experiences, trivial at first sight, which sometimes suffice to change the whole tenor of a life.

I was spending a quiet evening at the house of the Russian minister, M. Kakoschkine. Some one spoke of automatic writing whereby one could obtain answers to questions to which the reply was unknown to the writer. It was proposed to test this; and, as the wife of the Tuscan minister, a bright and cultivated English lady, who happened to be present, had expressed incredulity, she was asked to put some question the answer to which she was certain that no one present knew. Having consulted in the anteroom with her husband, she asked, referring to three large goldheaded pins that fastened her dress in front, " Who gave me these gold pins? ”

After a time the hand of one of the ladies present, one who had barely heard of Spiritualism and was much prejudiced against it, wrote, in a strange, cramped hand, the words: “ The one that gives you a maid and cook ” — the last two words being written backwards.¹

Every one thought the answer quite irrelevant, till the lady whose question had called forth this strange reply, after carefully examining the paper, turned pale and confessed that it was not only relevant but strictly true. The pins had been given to her by her cousin Elizabeth, then living in Florence; and that lady, at her request, had recently sent to her, from that city, two servants: namely, a lady s maid who had been in her service ten days, and a cook who had arrived two days before.

It is a strange, soul-stirring emotion — and one which, till of late years, few persons have ever known — the feeling which, like a lightning-flash, comes over an earnest and hopeful mind, when it has the first glimpse of the possibility that there may be experimental evidence of another world. I sat for hours that evening in silent reflection; and, ere I slept, I had registered in my heart a vow, since religiously kept, that I would not rest or falter till I had proved this possibility to be a probability, or a certainty, or a delusion. At last, at last (that was my exultant thought) I may be approaching a phenomenal solution of the world’s most momentous, most mysterious problem!

Feeling thus, it amazed me to observe with what light indifference the other assistants at this astounding experience looked upon the matter. They went away wondering, perplexed, indeed; but wonder and perplexity appeared to fade out without practical result, in a week or two. I doubt whether, after the lapse of a month, any of them adverted to the incident at all, except, perhaps, in the way of relating, to incredulous listeners of a winter evening, that very odd coincidence about three gold-headed pins and a maid and cook. A numerous class of men, illogical or indifferent, seem incapable of realizing the relative importance of new and unexpected things, as they come to light.

Was it a chance coincidence? As soon as I had satisfied myself, past all doubt, that everything had occurred in good faith, that query suggested itself. If the written answer had been “ Elizabeth,” such a solution might have been accepted: since, among a dozen of the most common female names, that of Elizabeth would probably be included; and if so, the chances against a correct answer were only twelve to one. But who or what was it that went out of its way to give such a roundabout answer to a simple question? How incredible, how difficult even to imagine, that any agency other than a thinking entity could have selected so unexpected a form of reply!. And if there was an external intelligence involved, how intensely interesting the field of inquiry thus disclosed!

Excited but unconvinced, I went to work in good earnest, devoting my entire leisure to the study that had opened before me. We had, of course, no professional mediums; nor, though I found among our acquaintances three ladies and two gentlemen who had more or less of the mediumistic gift, — the lady who had written at the Russian minister’s having the most, — were any of them of much force; not approaching, in power, others whom I have met since. And, all inexperienced, we had to grope our way.

However, in sixteen months I had held two hundred sittings, of which I kept a minute and scrupulous record extending over more than a thousand foolscap pages. These I had bound up in three volumes, labeled Personal Observations; and, at the close of each, I entered a careful digest of the evidence obtained, and a summary of apparent results.

The first volume was devoted chiefly to experiments in automatic writing in reply to mental questions.² The result, satisfactory in some respects, was a puzzle to me in others.

I verified the reality of the phenomenon so far as this, that out of seventy-three mental questions, one half of the answers (37) were strictly relevant; while of the remainder, one third (12) were doubtful, and two thirds (24) were irrelevant; irrelevant answers being most frequent in dull, wet weather.

The questions put usually referred to the phenomena themselves, and their character. The replies, many of them ingenious and some philosophical, were adverse to the spiritual hypothesis, as witness these extracts: —

“ The phenomena of table-moving, rapping, and the like, are not supernatural, not spiritual; they are electrical, and magnetic. . . . Involuntary writing is a phenomenon growing out of magnetic affinity, and similar in character to somnambulism: it exhibits the electrical action of mind on mind. . . . There is, in certain individuals, such a wonderful electric and magnetic force, and so peculiar a combination of elements, that, in their presence, inexplicable results occur. But we must not therefore suppose that we can hold communion with the spirits of the departed; for such power does not belong to man. ”

Soon after getting this reply, I learned through Mr. Kinney, formerly our minister to Turin, and through Powers, the sculptor, that they had verified the phenomena of unmistakable spirit - hands, musical instruments when suspended in the air played on without visible agency, communications from deceased relatives, and the like. Reciting these allegations in one of my (mental) questions, and asking an explanation, I got nothing more satisfactory than this: —

“ It is not possible now to know whence come these phenomena. . . . But we cannot communicate with the spiritworld. To push inquiries in that direction is unavailing, and productive of confusion without utility.”

The question called up by this phenomenon was: “ What intelligence gave these replies? ” All the more important answers were obtained through a lady of an ordinary, practical turn of mind, to whose cast of thought philosophical inquiry was absolutely foreign. Yet through her there came to me such allegations as these: —

Question (mental). —Is it of any consequence in what language I write out my questions, even if it be in a language which the person who answers does not understand ?

Answer. — Coming to a knowledge of the distinction between the positive state and that which is partial only, in the one it is probable that the language is not material; in the other, unless the magnetizer’s thought be in a language known, there may be only confused results.

Question (mental). — What is the difference between the positive state and that which is partial only ?

Answer. — It is not the same influence. The concentration of magnetic force which is used for the one is not requisite for the other. The ordinary individuality is lost in one, while in the other both powers act at once.

When I conversed with the writer on such subjects as these, in her normal condition, I found that they were not only without interest, hut quite unintelligible to her. But I knew it was claimed by writers on vital magnetism that, under magnetic influence, the patient often obtains clearer perceptions and higher knowledge. I had read what one of the most modest and cautious of these writers has said, namely: " The somnambule acquires new perceptions, furnished by interior organs; and the succession of these perceptions constitutes a new life, differing from that which we habitually enjoy: in that new life come to light phases of knowledge other than those which our ordinary sensations convey to us.”³

I concluded that this might be the true explanation; and that the answers I received might be due to the action of the writer’s mind in what Andrew Jackson Davis calls its “ superior condition.” Whether the writer’s own ideas were occasionally mixed in I sought to ascertain, asking:—

Question (mental). — Are the opinions which you have expressed in writing in part the opinions of your ordinary individuality ?

Answer. — It is so to a certain extent.

As the lady who wrote was an utter skeptic in the spiritual theory, I set down the opinion expressed that communion with the spirits of the departed was impossible, as due to that state of unbelief.

Thus, after sixty sittings, running through three months and a half, I had made but little progress toward the solution of the great problem. I was the rather disposed to set down what I had witnessed so far as merely a mesmeric phenomenon, because an intimate and valued friend and colleague, the Viscount de St. Amaro, then Brazilian Minister at the Neapolitan court, had brought to my notice many of the wonders of what has been called animal magnetism, together with cognate subjects of study.

As these opened on me I found it expedient to enlarge my sphere of research and to consult the best professional works on physiology, especially in its connection with mental phenomena; on psychology in general, on sleep, on hallucination, on insanity, on the mental epidemics of Europe and America; together with treatises on the imponderables, including Reichenbach’s curious observations, and the records of interesting researches then recently made in Prussia, in Italy, in England, and elsewhere, in connection with the influence of human electricity on the nervous system and the muscular tissues.

I collected, too, from London and Paris, the most noted works containing narratives of apparitions, hauntings, second sight, presentiments, and the like, and toiled through formidable piles of chaff to reach a few gleanings of sound grain.

Gradually I reached the conclusion that what had been regarded by many as new and unexampled phenomena are but modern phases of what has always existed. And I finally became convinced that for a proper understanding of much that had perplexed the public mind under the name of spiritual manifestations, historical research should precede every other inquiry; that we ought to look throughout the past for classes of phenomena, and seek to arrange these, each in its proper niche.

Nor meanwhile did I neglect my Personal Observations. In the second volume of these I find recorded the results of fifty sittings, running through five months. These were chiefly devoted to the obtaining of communications through table-tipping, and occasionally by means of raps. And here I came upon certain manifestations, often (as at the Russian minister’s) incidental and at first blush unimportant; yet, when more closely scrutinized, of startling and suggestive character.

Take this one, as example. August 23, 1856, we had a sitting at the house of an English physician resident in Naples; all present being English or American, yet familiar with the Italian language. The table was boisterous and unmanageable, tilting violently from side to side. At the word of command it waltzed, beat time to the polka, went into the next room, returned, and would hardly remain still. Unable to get any communication, we asked : “ Is there any one in the circle who ought to go out? ”

Answer. — Sophia Iggulden.

She left the table accordingly, and as soon as she did so the manifestations were quiet.

Question. — Why did you object to Miss Iggulden ?

Answer.—She is antipatic his simat—

Here I remarked that it was spelling nonsense. Soon after, we suspended our sitting. Later in the evening a lady who was present for the first time at a spiritual séance, looking over my minutes, said : “ I understand that sentence; it means: ‘ She is antipatichissima t—'and the t is probably the beginning of another word.”

When the table was then asked to complete the sentence, it did so, thus: “ She is antipatichissima to-night.”

It was quite accidentally that we discovered the meaning here; but, once discovered, it was unmistakable. The Italian word antipatico, of which the above is the superlative, feminine gender, is much in use, corresponding to “ not sympathetic;” so that the meaning was: “ She is very unsympathetic to-night.”

It was evident that such an answer, thus obtained, could not be explained on the theory of the reflection of ideas, or that of expectant attention: to us all it was utterly unexpected.

Again, October 19, 1856, at a sitting in my own parlor, present the medium, Mrs. Owen, and myself. The evening before an alleged spirit, purporting to be a deceased sister of the medium, named Maria, bad announced herself, and had promised to return this evening. Her sister (the medium), beginning to have faith in the spiritual theory, asked, when the table began to move: “ What spirit is here to-night ? ”

Myself (skeptical). — Oh, don’t put it in that way. Ask what force moves the table.

Medium (persisting). — Please tell us your name.

Of course we all expected the name Maria: instead of which we got Do fo: and when we asked if that was right, it answered, “ Yes.”

The medium was much disappointed, and I said: “ That can’t be right. There ’s no name beginning Dofo; but let us see what it will say.”

It went on to spell r c e s and then the word speak. It had spelt as far as s p e before any of us had the least idea what was coming. Then suddenly it flashed on me: I had said, “Ask what force moves the table.” And the table replies by another question : “ Do forces speak ? ”

I stood self-convicted; forces do not speak: I had been properly rebuked for asking an absurd question. But who, thus tersely, thus logically, was showing up its absurdity? What intelligence had undertaken thus to reason the matter with me? reminding me that if a mere force moved the table, it, was ridiculous to ask it a question or to expect an answer. I gave it up, for there was not a word to say in reply.

Yet again, November 1, 1856; place and assistants the same as before; spelling steady and regular.

The name Maria announced. The medium, taking it for granted that it was her sister, asked several questions, but got no reply. Then Mrs. Owen spoke, and obtained several answers. The medium was surprised and hurt at this apparent preference. Conjecturing that she might be misled, I asked: “ Is it Maria N-?” (the sister’s name.)

Answer. — No.

Myself — What name, then?

Answer. — W&emdash.

Myself.—Was that your married name ?

Answer. — No; it was F―.

A lady intimately known to us, more than thirty years ago, at New Harmony, but since deceased. As a test I asked her (mentally) what was her favorite song; thinking of Fairy-like Music, which I had often heard her sing. But the reply was Long, Long Ago; and then Mrs. Owen and I both recalled the fact that that was her chief favorite. Then I put this mental question: —

“ But was there not another song that you used often to sing at our house ? ”

No reply for a time. In the interval occurred the following conversation: —

Mrs. Owen. — Poor Maria! How much she suffered in life!

Medium.—Was she unhappily married ?

Mrs. Owen. — Very unhappily. She was of a warm, frank, impulsive disposition; while he was cold and bitter. He treated her with great and persistent cruelty.

Medium. — How did she happen to many such a man?

Mrs. Owen.—They had only known each other about a month, but Maria was to blame in that affair.

Shortly after came five raps (the conventional call for the alphabet) and there was spelled out: —

“ Feeling drives pride away.”

Mrs. Owen asked whether that was a reply to my mental question or to her remark, and got for answer: “ Remark.”

The reply itself (very unexpected, since I was looking for the name of a song) puzzled me, till Mrs. Owen recalled, what I had partially forgotten, the circumstances of Maria’s marriage, as follows: —

When Mr. F―first came to New Harmony, he lodged at the house of Maria’s father, seemed much pleased with the daughter, asked her in marriage, and was accepted. A day or two, however, before that set for the nuptials, he wished to break off the match, alleging that he did not love Maria as much as he ought, to make her his wife. But she, doubtless much attached to him (as she proved afterwards by a life’s devotion), held him to his engagement, saying she was sure John would love her when she came to be his wife. So the marriage took place on the day appointed.

It was with reference to all this that Mrs. Owen had remarked: “ Maria was to blame in that affair.” Then how touching, at once, and appropriate the apology: —

“ Feeling drives pride away.”

It would be difficult, in the same number of words, to reply more pertinently, or probably more truly, to the imputation in question.

I think that brief sentence converted Mrs. Owen — a woman of strong logical mind — to the spiritual theory. It staggered my life - long skepticism. I could not but think of poor Maria as actually making to us, from her home in another world, this excuse for a natural weakness; and I recalled those tender words, spoken of a far greater sinner than she: “ To her shall much be forgiven, because she loved much.”

I think I should have surrendered my unbelief, as my wife did, seeing that I was wholly unable, on the apneumatic theory, to explain the sudden and startling presentation of these four words, but for the fact that, shortly before, we had received, through the table and purporting to come from three several spirits, detailed information touching the death of two friends of the medium, every word of which proved false. And in that case we had tried the (alleged) communicating spirits by asking sundry test questions, which were correctly answered; the true answers, however, all being known to us. It had not then occurred to me that spirits from the other world might deceive, as so many men and women do here; and that while some communications, truly spiritual, might be a mere giving back to us of what had been read in our own minds, others might he strictly truthful and wholly independent of our thoughts or knowledge.

But there was something more to come, appealing to the heart as well as to the reason.

I have already, at the close of my last paper, spoken of Violet, and of my grief at her early death. When I first began to receive, through the table, communications purporting to come from the spirits of the deceased, the thought did cross my mind that if those who once took an interest in us were able still to commune with us from another world, Violet’s spirit, of all others, might announce itself to me; but when month after month passed without sign, I had quite ceased to expect it, or even to dwell on such a possibility. Great was my surprise and my emotion when, at last, the silence was broken.

The place and persons were the same as in the last two examples. The name of Violet was suddenly spelt out. When my astonishment had somewhat subsided, I asked mentally with what intent a name so well remembered had been announced.

Answer. — Gave pro—

There the spelling stopped. Invitations to proceed were unavailing. At last it occurred to me to ask: “ Are the letters p r o correct ? ”

Answer. — No.

Question. — Is the word “ gave ” correct?

Answer. — Yes.

“ Then,” said I, " please begin the word after ‘gave’ over again; ” whereupon it spelled out, —

“ Gave a written promise to remember you even after death ”

Few will be able to realize the feeling which came over me as these words slowly connected themselves. If there was one memento of my youth valued above all others, it was a letter written by Violet in the prospect of death, and containing, to the very words, the promise which now, after half a life-time, came back to me from beyond the bourn. I have the letter still, but it has never been seen by any one else.

Though many results similar to this have been obtained by others, few reach the public. It needs, as prompting motive to overcome a natural reluctance, the earnest wish by such disclosure to serve truth and benefit mankind.

The circumstances were peculiar. What came was utterly unforeseen. When long-slumbering associations were called up by the sudden appearance of a name, it was in response to no thought or will or hope of mine. And if not traceable to me, it was still less so to either of the others. They knew nothing of my question, for it was mentally propounded; nor of the letter; not even that it existed.

Let us take note of this also. When, at the first attempt to reply to my question, the unlooked-for sentence had been partly spelled out, — “ Gave p r o,” — it did occur to me that the unfinished word might be “ promise; ” and it did suggest itself that the reference might be to the pledge made to me, long years before, by Violet. Observe what happened. The letters p r o were declared to be incorrect; and I remember well my surprise and disappointment as I erased them. But how was that surprise increased when I found that the correction had been insisted on only to make way for a fuller and more definite wording. It is certain that my mind could have had nothing to do in working out this result. If a spirit-hand had visibly appeared, had erased the three letters, had inserted the word “ written,” and had then completed the sentence, it would have been more wonderful, certainly; but would the evidence have been more perfect that some occult will was at work to bring about all this?

The above incident impressed me deeply, yet it needed strong additional evidence, cumulative throughout after years and elsewhere recorded,⁴ thoroughly to assure me that it was Violet who had given me this proof of her identity. At the close of the minutes of the sitting, part of which I have here given, I find recorded this scruple: —

“ There is, however, in such results as the above, no proof of an occult intelligence which can distinguish and repeat to us things not in our minds; but further experiments may disclose a greater power than has yet shown itself.” It was some years, however, before this occurred.

Leaving out a few sittings, as to which I had doubts whether the results were fairly obtained, the character of the sittings for communications through the table recorded in this volume was, as nearly as they could be classified, as follows : —

One example of profanity — the only one throughout my experience of eighteen years — occurred October 11, 1856; and for that I was prepared. For, two months before, the Baroness Suckow, of Bavaria, then on a visit to Naples and having brought a letter of introduction to me, related to me some of her spiritual experiences; this among the rest: On one occasion, while sitting in a circle with several young ladies of rank, cultivated and refined, the table gave some answer so evidently absurd that one of them said, “ That’s not true! ” Whereupon the table, by the alphabet, spelled out such shocking oaths that the ladies, ashamed and terrified, broke up the sitting. The character and demeanor of the baroness, stamped with German earnestness and with a touch of enthusiasm, was to me sufficient voucher for this narrative.

Our experience was similar. At our private circle an (alleged) spirit, assuming to be Mrs. Owen’s mother, made several replies so irrelevant and inconsequent that Mrs. Owen said: —

“ You have been deceiving us all the time. You are not my mother.”

Whereupon there came this: “ Mary lies, dam you ” (tints spelled).

I may add, as to the sittings classified as “ frivolous ” and “ boisterous,” that these occurred, as a rule, when the assistants were numerous and were chiefly young people, or others, who had come together for an evening’s amusement.

In a summing up, at the close of this volume, I find my conclusions, so far, thus recorded:—

“ As to the great question touching the alleged agency of spirits in framing communications through involuntary writing, or through the table, I regard it, after eight mouths’ patient experiments, as still undecided, either in the affirmative or negative. If the proofs for are numerous and striking, the difficulties against are serious and unexplained.” ⁵

Of those difficulties the chief were: false intelligence given; occasional failure, by tests, to detect a Spirit afterwards discovered to have assumed a false name; occasional giving back of our own ideas, even when these proved afterwards incorrect; promises to execute certain tests not fulfilled; but chiefly the failure to communicate anything not known to us at the time, and of which we afterwards verified the truth.

But if, on the one hand, I withheld assent from the spiritual theory until further investigation; on the other, my reason rejected the speculations which were put forward, in those days, to disparage the phenomena, or to sustain the apneumatic hypothesis. Of these the most accredited were by two French authors of repute: the Marquis de Mirville⁶ and the Count de Gasparin.⁷

They attracted, much attention, and obtained a wide circulation. Both writers admitted the reality of the phenomena, as I did; both traced them to the agency of a mysterious fluid ; but at that point their conclusions diverged.

De Mirville, a Roman Catholic, admitted an ultramundane, agency, but asserted that, except when under ecclesiastical sanction and within the limits of one privileged church, these “ fluidic manifestations ” (as he called them) were demoniac only. As I never believed in the doctrine of human depravity, so neither could my mind admit the idea that if, under cosmical law, there was influx or intervention from another world, such influence could be accursed in its nature, be controlled by a vagrant devil, seeking whom he might devour.

De Gasparin, on the contrary, rejected all intermundane agency, as cause; assenting to a theory which had previously been set forth by Monsieur de Mousseaux,⁸ and thus expressed: “ That spirit which you have the generosity to attribute to the table is nothing more than your own spirit replying to your own questions. The act is accomplished by the operation of a fluid which escapes from you, which moves the table unconsciously to you, and which governs it in conformity with your sentiments.”

I took pains to make clear to myself the objections to this opinion; and these I recorded at the close of the manuscript volume from which I have been extracting. As they have never been published, I here reproduce them: —

“ Let us look narrowly 1o this theory, and examine what it is that it takes for granted. First, a fluid escapes from our bodies and enters the table; and when we will or request the table to move, that fluid moves it.

“ I do not assert that, so far, the theory is necessarily incorrect. But yet this, of itself, would be wonderful, beyond any natural phenomenon with which I am acquainted.⁹ What other example have we, in the whole circle of physical experiments ever made by man, of the human will passing out of the living frame of which it determines so mysteriously the movements, and acting on an inert, inanimate mass which it causes to obey each varying command that may be given?

“ The advocates of this theory remind us, in explanation,¹⁰ that every day — each moment almost — we transmit motion to external inanimate matter by mechanical action; then why not in some other way? Mechanical action is not the only mode of action in the world: caloric expands bodies; the lodestone draws toward itself the distant iron.

“ But the analogy does not hold good. If the fluid, passing from our bodies into the table, uniformly caused it (let us suppose) to split into pieces; or if, in every case, it acted upon it so as to produce rotary or oscillatory motion ; then, indeed, we might liken its action to that of heat or mineral magnetism, as being determinate and constant. But, on the contrary, its manifestations are as various as the commands which human caprice can issue. I bid the table lift the leg next, to me, it lifts it; the opposite leg, it obeys. I request it to beat polka time or to dance a jig ; it conforms, with efforts grotesque and ludicrous, to each requirement. Did the command of any mortal creature ever cause the thermometer to rise one degree beyond the point to which the temperature pervading the surrounding atmosphere had contracted or expanded it? Could the combined will of thousands determine the action of the magnet in a direction at right angles to a straight line drawn from the iron to itself?

“ But, secondly, supposing it possible to explain those phenomena on physical principles, we have but touched the threshold of the mystery, disposing but of the first and least difficulty. Others far greater are yet to be met.

“ A fluid (according to De Gasparin), passing from our bodies into inert matter. not only moves that matter at our bidding, but, from its inanimate abode,. it enters into intellectual correspondence with us; it answers, with pertinence, our various questions; it joins in the conversation, and replies, assentingly or dissentingly, to incidental remarks made (as I suppose we must express it) in its hearing. Sometimes, even, it comments on these remarks. Its conversation, though at times carried on with apparent hesitation, as if under the difficulty of a novel attempt, is, in a general way, reasonable and consistent; seldom exhibiting contradictions.

“ Let us consider what all this involves. Do we engage in conversation with a fluid? Does one portion of ourselves talk to another portion and receive an answer from it? Is the nervous fluid (if it be a nervous fluid) endowed with intelligence? And does that portion of this intelligent fluid which has passed out of our bodies, to lodge in the table, comment upon what the portion which remains within us thinks and says?

“ And yet, even this is not the entire case. A second installment of difficulties remains to be encountered still.

“ The fluid gives many indications of being an independent entity. Like any living thing, it shows personal preferences, and, still more strange! it exhibits changeful moods. Usually quiet and earnest, it is yet sometimes boisterous and rollicking; to-day frivolous or petulant, to-morrow mischievous or abusive. And these moods do not uniformly correspond to the state of mind of the assistants.

“ More extraordinary yet is the fact that the replies given by this fluid, and the comments and suggestions made by it, are frequently far from being echoes of the opinions or expectations of the questioners. It makes, unexpectedly to all present, original suggestions, and these of a rational character.¹¹ It sometimes calls up, from the recesses where they have slumbered for half a life-time, the secret images of the past; and presents these to us in a sudden and startling manner. Occasionally, even, the answers and allegations are contrary to the expectations or belief of the individuals from whose persons the fluid is alleged to have gone out.

“ It does more yet. The fluid within the table originates an argument with the fluid within us, objecting to a chance expression which the other has employed. On another occasion, instead of replying, as we expected, to a question asked, it goes out of its way to defend the individual whom it impersonates against an unfavorable opinion casually expressed by one of the assistants; thus, as it were, reproving for undue severity that bodily portion of the fluid of which, but an hour before, it had been a constituent part.

“ Then here is not only a duality of intelligence caused by the alleged division into two portions (the internal and the external) of the nervous fluid of the human system, but there is not even harmony between the two. Not only does the external portion, rummaging in the store-house of the mind, drag forth thence unlooked-for thoughts and recollections, but it still more evidently exhibits the attributes of a distinct, reflecting existence. It takes that portion of itself from which it had recently parted by surprise. It begins a controversy with it. It conveys a reproof to it. Finally one portion of this dualized fluid occasionally tells the other portion of it what that other portion knows to be a lie!

“ Where, in all human experience, within the entire range of natural science, have we hitherto encountered phenomena bearing any analogy to these ? ”

It seems to me, as I copy this argument, that I had already obtained what should have sufficed to convince me of the reality of an outside thinking entity, not mundane : a conviction which virtually involves the spiritual theory. The recollection of the fact that I still held back, awaiting further evidence, has taught me charity for persistent doubters who must have proof on proof ere they believe. I think my hesitation was chiefly induced by this, that I had not yet become reconciled to the idea that in the next phase of existence there are the same varieties of intelligence and of power as we find in this world; and that, there as here, success in a novel experiment is achieved only by practice and persevering effort.

But I had already abandoned one error; seeing clearly that, whatever else this phenomenon might be, it was not a reflex of one’s own opinions.

It needs not, and might be tedious, to go through my third volume of Observations. They corroborate substantially former results, with a few further proofs, toward the spiritual theory, added. Of these last one or two may be worth citing; the first touching that difcult question, identification of spirits.

January 21, 1857, at a private circle, my brother William, who died in 1842, unexpectedly announced himself, He had lived with us, being a widower, during the last few years of his life, and thus Mrs. Owen was intimately acquainted with his habitual feelings. She asked: “ If this is really you, William, will you spell out something to assure us of it? ”

Answer. — I am cured: death cured me.

Mrs. Owen. — I do believe it is William himself.

For five or six years before his death, William Owen was a perfect martyr to dyspepsia; he suffered cruelly, and the care of his health was his constant and absorbing thought. If spirits, when they return to earth, recur to what were their ruling passions and hopes ere they left the body, Mrs. Owen might well accept this congratulatory statement touching an escape from daily suffering to perfect health, as one of the strongest tests which her brother-in-law could have given in proof of his personal identity.

July 9, 1857, again our own circle. We had ascertained by repeated experiments, that while the table could spell out any word which I thought of, it never, in any instance, seemed able to read a word in Mrs. Owen’s mind; and, if urged to persevere in the attempt, would reply: “ All dark,” or “ No light,” or employ some similar expression. On one occasion she had thought of the word soap; and it declared, as usual, that it could see nothing. Then Mrs. Owen said: “ I ’ll go into my bed-chamber and touch what I thought of.” She did so, the room being quite dark ; then returned and asked: “ What did I touch? ”¹²

Answer. —No—

Mrs. Owen. — It’s going to spell “ no light.”

I said: “ Let us make sure of it. Please go on:" and it spelled s e. I urged it in vain to finish the word; I could get nothing more. “ Is that all? ” I asked. “ Yes.” “ Does it mean that you cannot see?” “No.” Then first it occurred to me that it had spelled the word nose.

When I suggested this, Mrs. Owen, after reflecting a little, burst into a hearty laugh and asked: “ What did I touch it with? ”

Answer. — Soap.

Thereupon she explained to us that when she entered the dark room, groping about, she had laid her hands on a cake of scented soap and smelled it; and that she distinctly recollected (but not until the table recalled the fact) that she did touch her nose with it. After telling us this, she relapsed into thoughtful gravity. “ The THING,” she exclaimed at last, must have followed me in the dark, and seen everything I did! ”

The Rev. Mr. Godfrey, an English clergyman experimenting in table-moving, recognized the Thing as we did; but he, somewhat hastily, concluded that it was Satan himself. The reason he assigns for this belief is that his table remained stationary as often as he laid the Bible upon it, but went on moving under any other book. The experiment may have been suggested to him by a perusal of Saint Anthony’s biography, in which we read that the devil appeared to him as “ a spirit very tall, with a great show, who vanished at the Saviour’s name.” As the reverend gentleman’s work,1 then recently published, had obtained a notice from the London Quarterly Review, we decided to spend a few minutes in verifying or disproving his theory. Having put a volume of Tennyson’s poems on the table, we asked for three tips, and got them. When we replaced this book by the Bible, the tips came just as freely. A second time we placed Tennyson on the table, and asked to have it shaken: the table obeyed. Again we replaced it by the Bible, and the table was shaken as distinctly as before .

So our table, unlike Mr. Godfrey’s, exhibited no inkling of the diabolical.

I find the sittings in this volume thus classified: —

Serious, apparently truthful and exhibiting good feeling . . 75

Frivolous . . . . . 3

During which false intelligence was communicated . . . 11

In which a spirit evinced revengeful sentiments . . . . 1

-

Total sittings . . . . 90

Thus, five sixths of our sittings were of a serious and satisfactory character: a considerable improvement on last volume.

Also I find recorded that, out of more than two hundred mental questions (216), ninety-three percent. (202) received strictly relevant answers: a very satisfactory proportion. These were important not only as experiments in thought-reading, but as enabling me to eliminate all expectation except my own, as influence in determining or modifying the replies.

The above may suffice as a sketch of my early studies in this field, then little explored. The point of progress which I had reached is indicated by a document recorded at the close of my third volume, and which I here reproduce.

SUGGESTED THEORY.

“ A theory for which I have not yet found sufficient proof, but which harmonizes with the phenomena, so far as observed, is the following: —

“ 1. There is a phase of life after the death-change, in which identity is retained; the same diversity of character being exhibited among spirits, as here on earth, among men.

“ 2. Under certain conditions the spirits of the dead have the power to communicate with the living.

“ 3. Spirits, when in communication with earth, have the power of moving considerable weights, and of producing certain sounds: also the power of reading in the minds of some men and women, but perhaps not of all. They experience many difficulties in communicating ; and partly because of this, but partly also for other reasons, their communications are often uncertain and unreliable.

“ 4. Spirits communicate more readily when the communications happen to coincide with the thoughts or expectations of the questioner: yet they do, in many instances, declare what is unthought of and unexpected by those to whom the communications are made.

“ 5. One of the conditions of spiritual communion is the presence of one or more of a class of persons peculiarly gifted, and who are usually called mediums.

“ 6. This communion occurs, not through any suspension of the laws of nature, but in accordance with certain constant laws, with the operation of which we are very imperfectly acquainted.”

To this document I find appended the following

“ NOTE. Under the above theory all the chief phenomena we have observed find ready explanation, I have heard of no anti-spiritual hypothesis of which the same can be said. It remains to be seen whether further experiments will confirm or disprove this theory; or whether any other theory can be suggested, involving less of marvel than the above, yet adequate to the explanation of the phenomena in question.”

No further than this, and with hesitation, had I made my way, after two hundred sittings, running through sixteen months! Yet I have heard certain persons — cautious and sensible in other things - unscrupulously assume, as the result of a few weeks’ experience, that they had probed this matter to the bottom, and ascertained, beyond possible doubt, that it was all mere imposture or delusion!

I purpose, in my next paper, briefly to set forth some general results from my spiritual experience; proposing simply to state these and to glance at their connection with civilization and cosmical progress, not to argue their truth. The arguments for and against modern Spiritualism swell to volumes, and can be found elsewhere.

Robert Dale Owen.