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  THE

  SALEM WITCHCRAFT,

  The Planchette Mystery,

  AND

  MODERN SPIRITUALISM,

  WITH

  DR. DODDRIDGE'S DREAM.




  HISTORY
  OF
  SALEM WITCHCRAFT:

  A REVIEW
  OF
  CHARLES W. UPHAM'S GREAT WORK.

  FROM THE "EDINBURGH REVIEW."

  With Notes,

  BY THE EDITOR OF "THE PHRENOLOGICAL JOURNAL."

  NEW YORK:
  FOWLER & WELLS CO., PUBLISHERS,
  753 BROADWAY.
  1886.




BIGOTRY. Obstinate or blind attachment to a particular creed;
unreasonable zeal or warmth in favor of a party, sect, or opinion;
excessive prejudice. The practice or tenet of a bigot.


PREJUDICE. An opinion or decision of mind, formed without due
examination of the facts or arguments which are necessary to a just and
impartial determination. A previous bent or inclination of mind for or
against any person or thing. Injury or wrong of any kind; as to act to
the _prejudice_ of another.


SUPERSTITION. Excessive exactness or rigor in religious opinions or
practice; excess or extravagance in religion; the doing of things not
required by God, or abstaining from things not forbidden; or the
belief of what is absurd, or belief without evidence. False religion;
false worship. Rite or practice proceeding from excess of scruples in
religion. Excessive nicety; scrupulous exactness. Belief in the direct
agency of superior powers in certain extraordinary or singular events,
or in omens and prognostics.--_Webster._




INTRODUCTION.


The object in reprinting this most interesting review is simply to show
the progress made in moral, intellectual, and physical science. The
reader will go back with us to a time--not very remote--when nothing was
known of Phrenology and Psychology; when men and women were persecuted,
and even put to death, through the baldest ignorance and the most
pitiable superstition. If we were to go back still farther, to the Holy
Wars, we should find cities and nations drenched in human blood through
religious bigotry and intolerance. Let us thank God that our lot is
cast in a more fortunate age, when the light of revelation, rightly
interpreted by the aid of SCIENCE, points to the Source of all
knowledge, all truth, all light.

When we know more of Anatomy, Physiology, Physiognomy, and the Natural
Sciences generally, there will be a spirit of broader liberality,
religious tolerance, and individual freedom. Then all men will hold
themselves accountable to God, rather than to popes, priests, or
parsons. Our progenitors lived in a time that tried men's souls, as
the following lucid review most painfully shows.

  S. R. W.




CONTENTS.


                                                PAGE
  The Place                                        7
  The Salemite of Forty Years Ago                  8
  How the Subject was opened                       9
  Careful Historiography                          10
  The Actors in the Tragedy                       12
  Philosophy of the Delusion                      12
  Character of the Early Settlement               13
  First Causes                                    15
  Death of the Patriarch                          16
  Growth of Witchcraft                            17
  Trouble in the Church                           18
  Rev. Mr. Burroughs                              19
  Deodat Lawson                                   20
  Parris--a Malignant                             20
  A Protean Devil                                 21
  State of Physiology                             22
  William Penn as a Precedent                     22
  Phenomena of Witchcraft                         23
  Parris and his Circle                           25
  The Inquisitions--Sarah Good                    26
  A Child Witch                                   27
  The Towne Sisters                               28
  Depositions of Parris and his Tools             31
  Goody Nurse's Excommunication                   35
  Mary Easty                                      36
  Mrs. Cloyse                                     38
  The Proctor Family                              40
  The Jacobs Family                               41
  Giles and Martha Corey                          42
  Decline of the Delusion                         44
  The Physio-Psychological Causes of the Trouble  45
  The Last of Parris                              47
  "One of the Afflicted"--Her Confession          49
  The Transition                                  50
  The Fetish Theory Then and Now                  51
  The Views of Modern Investigators               53
  Importance of the Subject                       55


CONTENTS OF THE PLANCHETTE MYSTERY.

                                                              PAGE.
  What Planchette is and does (with review of Facts and
      Phenomena)                                                 63
  The Press on Planchette (with further details of Phenomena)    67
  Theory First--That the Board is moved by the hands that rest   70
      upon it
  Theory Second--"It is Electricity or Magnetism"                71
  Proof that Electricity has nothing to do with it               78
  Theory Third--The Devil Theory                                 79
  Theory of a Floating Ambient Mentality                         81
  "_To Daimonion_"--The Demon                                    83
  "It is some principle of nature as yet unknown"                85
  Theory of the Agency of Departed Spirits                       85
  PLANCHETTE'S OWN THEORY                                        89
  The Rational Difficulty                                        92
  The Medium--The Doctrine of Spheres                            93
  The Moral and Religious Difficulty                             98
  What this Modern Development is, and what is to come of it    102
  Conclusion                                                    105
  How to work Planchette                                        106


SPIRITUALISM.

  History of Spiritualism  107
  Scriptural Views         110
  Communion of Saints      112


DR. DODDRIDGE'S DREAM.

  Pages 123-125.




SALEM WITCHCRAFT.


THE PLACE.

The name of the village of Salem is as familiar to Americans as that of
any provincial town in England or France is to Englishmen and Frenchmen;
yet, when uttered in the hearing of Europeans, it carries us back two or
three centuries, and suggests an image, however faint and transient, of
the life of the Pilgrim Fathers, who gave that sacred name to the place
of their chosen habitation. If we were on the spot to-day, we should see
a modern American seaport, with an interest of its own, but by no means
a romantic one. At present Salem is suffering its share of the adversity
which has fallen upon the shipping trade, while it is still mourning the
loss of some of its noblest citizens in the late civil war. No community
in the Republic paid its tribute of patriotic sacrifice more generously;
and there were doubtless occasions when its citizens remembered the
early days of glory, when their fathers helped to chase the retreating
British, on the first shedding of blood in the war of Independence. But
now they have enough to think of under the pressure of the hour. Their
trade is paralyzed under the operation of the tariff; their shipping is
rotting in port, except so much of it as is sold to foreigners; there
is much poverty in low places and dread of further commercial adversity
among the chief citizens, but there is the same vigorous pursuit of
intellectual interests and pleasures, throughout the society of the
place, that there always is wherever any number of New Englanders
have made their homes beside the church, the library, and the school.
Whatever other changes may occur from one age or period to another,
the features of natural scenery are, for the most part, unalterable.
Massachusetts Bay is as it was when the Pilgrims cast their first look
over it: its blue waters--as blue as the seas of Greece--rippling up
upon the sheeted snow of the sands in winter, or beating against rocks
glittering in ice; in autumn the pearly waves flowing in under the
thickets of gaudy foliage; and on summer evening the green surface
surrounding the amethyst islands, where white foam spouts out of the
caves and crevices. On land, there are still the craggy hills, and the
jutting promontories of granite, where the barberry grows as the bramble
does with us, and room is found for the farmstead between the crags, and
for the apple-trees and little slopes of grass, and patches of tillage,
where all else looks barren. The boats are out, or ranged on shore,
according to the weather, just as they were from the beginning, only in
larger numbers; and far away on either hand the coasts and islands,
the rocks and hills and rural dwellings, are as of old, save for the
shrinking of the forest, and the growth of the cities and villages,
whose spires and school-houses are visible here and there.


THE SALEMITE OF FORTY YEARS AGO.

Yet there are changes, marked and memorable, both in Salem and its
neighborhood, since the date of thirty-seven years ago. There was then
an exclusiveness about the place as evident to strangers, and as dear to
natives, as the rivalship between Philadelphia and Baltimore, while far
more interesting and honorable in its character. In Salem society there
was a singular combination of the precision and scrupulousness of
Puritan manners and habits of thought with the pride of a cultivated
and traveled community, boasting acquaintance with people of all known
faiths, and familiarity with all known ways of living and thinking,
while adhering to the customs, and even the prejudices, of their
fathers. While relating theological conversations held with liberal
Buddhists or lax Mohammedans, your host would whip his horse, to get
home at full speed by sunset on a Saturday, that the groom's Sabbath
might not be encroached on for five minutes. The houses were hung with
odd Chinese copies of English engravings, and furnished with a variety
of pretty and useful articles from China, never seen elsewhere, because
none but American traders had then achieved any commerce with that
country but in tea, nankeen, and silk. The Salem Museum was the glory
of the town, and even of the State. Each speculative merchant who went
forth, with or without a cargo (and the trade in ice was then only
beginning), in his own ship, with his wife and her babes, was determined
to bring home some offering to the Museum, if he should accomplish a
membership of that institution by doubling either Cape Horn or the Cape
of Good Hope. He picked up an old cargo somewhere and trafficked with
it for another; and so he went on--if not rounding the world, seeing
no small part of it, and making acquaintance with a dozen eccentric
potentates and barbaric chiefs, and sovereigns with widely celebrated
names; and, whether the adventurer came home rich or poor, he was sure
to have gained much knowledge, and to have become very entertaining
in discourse. The houses of the principal merchants were pleasant
abodes--each standing alone beside the street, which was an avenue
thick-strewn with leaves in autumn and well shaded in summer. Not far
away were the woods, where lumbering went on, for the export of timber
to Charleston and New Orleans, and for the furniture manufacture, which
was the main industry of the less fertile districts of Massachusetts in
those days. Here and there was a little lake--a "pond"--under the shadow
of the woods, yielding water-lilies in summer, and ice for exportation
in winter--as soon as that happy idea had occurred to some fortunate
speculator. On some knoll there was sure to be a school-house. Amid
these and many other pleasant objects, and in the very center of the
stranger's observations, there was one spectacle that had no beauty in
it--just as in the happy course of the life of the Salem community there
is one fearful period. That dreary object is the Witches' Hill at Salem;
and that fearful chapter of history is the tragedy of the Witch
Delusion.


HOW THE SUBJECT WAS OPENED.

Our reason for selecting the date of thirty-seven years ago for our
glance at the Salem of the last generation is, that at that time a
clergyman resident there fixed the attention of the inhabitants on the
history of their forefathers by delivering lectures on Witchcraft. This
gentleman was then a young man, of cultivated mind and intellectual
tastes, a popular preacher, and esteemed and beloved in private life. In
delivering those lectures he had no more idea than his audience that he
was entering upon the great work and grand intellectual interest of
his life. When he concluded the course, he was unconscious of having
offered more than the entertainment of a day; yet the engrossing
occupation of seven-and-thirty years for himself, and no little
employment and interest for others, have grown out of that early effort.
He was requested to print the lectures, and did so. They went through
more than one edition; and every time he reverted to the subject,
with some fresh knowledge gathered from new sources, he perceived
more distinctly how inadequate, and even mistaken, had been his early
conceptions of the character of the transactions which constituted
the Witch Tragedy. At length he refused to reissue the volume. "I was
unwilling," he says in the preface of the book before us, "to issue
again what I had discovered to be an insufficient presentation of the
subject." Meantime, he was penetrating into mines of materials for
history, furnished by the peculiar forms of administration instituted by
the early rulers of the province. It was an ordinance of the General
Court of Massachusetts, for instance, that testimony should in all cases
be taken in the shape of depositions, to be preserved "in perpetual
remembrance." In all trials, the evidence of witnesses was taken in
writing beforehand, the witnesses being present (except in certain
cases) to meet any examination in regard to their recorded testimony.
These depositions were carefully preserved, in complete order: and
thus we may now know as much about the landed property, the wills, the
contracts, the assaults and defamation, the thievery and cheating, and
even the personal morals and social demeanor of the citizens of Salem
of two centuries and a half ago as we could have done if they had
had law-reporters in their courts, and had filed those reports, and
preserved the police departments of newspapers like those of the present
day. The documents relating to the witchcraft proceedings have been
for the most part laid up among the State archives; but a considerable
number of them have been dispersed--no doubt from their connection with
family history, and under impulses of shame and remorse. Of these, some
are safely lodged in literary institutions, and others are in private
hands, though too many have been lost.


CAREFUL HISTORIOGRAPHY.

In a long course of years, Mr. Upham, and after him his sons, have
searched out all documents they could hear of. When they had reason to
believe that any transcription of papers was inaccurate--that gaps had
been conjecturally filled up, that dates had been mistaken, or that
papers had been transposed, they never rested till they had got hold of
the originals, thinking the bad spelling, the rude grammar, and strange
dialect of the least cultivated country people less objectionable than
the unauthorized amendments of transcribers. Mr. Upham says he has
resorted to the originals throughout. Then there were the parish books
and church records, to which was committed in early days very much
in the life of individuals which would now be considered a matter of
private concern, and scarcely fit for comment by next-door neighbors.
The primitive local maps and the coast-survey chart, with the markings
of original grants to settlers, and of bridges, mills, meeting-houses,
private dwellings, forest roads, and farm boundaries, have been
preserved. Between these and deeds of conveyance it has been possible to
construct a map of the district, which not only restores the external
scene to the mind's eye, but casts a strong and fearful light--as we
shall see presently--on the origin and course of the troubles of 1692.
Mr. Upham and his sons have minutely examined the territory--tracing the
old stone walls and the streams, fixing the gates, measuring distances,
even verifying points of view, till the surrounding scenery has become
as complete as could be desired. Between the church books and the parish
and court records, the character, repute, ways, and manners of every
conspicuous resident can be ascertained; and it may be said that nothing
out of the common way happened to any man, woman, or child within the
district which could remain unknown at this day, if any one wished to
make it out. Mr. Upham has wished to make out the real story of the
Witch Tragedy; and he has done it in such a way that his readers will
doubtless agree that no more accurate piece of history has ever been
written than the annals of this New England township.

For such a work, however, something more is required than the most
minute delineation of the outward conditions of men and society; and in
this higher department of his task Mr. Upham is above all anxious to
obtain and dispense true light. The second part of his work treats of
what may be called the spiritual scenery of the time. He exhibits the
superstition of that age, when the belief in Satanic agency was the
governing idea of religious life, and the most engrossing and pervading
interest known to the Puritans of every country. Of the young and
ignorant in the new settlement beyond the seas his researches have led
him to write thus:


THE ACTORS IN THE TRAGEDY.

"However strange it seems, it is quite worthy of observation, that the
actors in that tragedy, the 'afflicted children,' and other witnesses,
in their various statements and operations, embraced about the whole
circle of popular superstition. How those young country girls, some of
them mere children, most of them wholly illiterate, could have become
familiar with such fancies, to such an extent, is truly surprising. They
acted out, and brought to bear with tremendous effect, almost all that
can be found in the literature of that day, and the period preceding it,
relating to such subjects. Images and visions which had been portrayed
in tales of romance, and given interest to the pages of poetry, will
be made by them, as we shall see, to throng the woods, flit through
the air, and hover over the heads of a terrified court. The ghosts of
murdered wives and children will play their parts with a vividness
of representation and artistic skill of expression that have hardly
been surpassed in scenic representations on the stage. In the
Salem-witchcraft proceedings, the superstition of the middle ages
was embodied in real action. All its extravagant absurdities and
monstrosities appear in their application to human experience. We see
what the effect has been, and must be, when the affairs of life, in
courts of law and the relations of society, or the conduct or feelings
of individuals, are suffered to be under the control of fanciful or
mystical notions. When a whole people abandons the solid ground of
common sense, overleaps the boundaries of human knowledge, gives itself
up to wild reveries, and lets loose its passions without restraint,
it presents a spectacle more terrific to behold, and becomes more
destructive and disastrous, than any convulsion of mere material
nature,--than tornado, conflagration, or earthquake." (Vol. i. p. 468.)


PHILOSOPHY OF THE DELUSION.

All this is no more than might have occurred to a thoughtful historian
long years ago; but there is yet something else which it has been
reserved for our generation to perceive, or at least to declare, without
fear or hesitation. Mr. Upham may mean more than some people would in
what he says of the new opening made by science into the dark depths
of mystery covered by the term Witchcraft; for he is not only the
brother-in-law but the intimate friend and associate of Dr. Oliver
Wendell Holmes, Professor of Anatomy and Physiology at Harvard
University, and still better known to us, as he is at home, as the
writer of the physiological tales, "Elsie Venner" and the "Guardian
Angel," which have impressed the public as something new in the
literature of fiction. It can not be supposed that Mr. Upham's view of
the Salem Delusion would have been precisely what we find it here if
he and Dr. Holmes had never met; and, but for the presence of the
Professor's mind throughout the book, which is most fitly dedicated to
him, its readers might have perceived less clearly the true direction in
which to look for a solution of the mystery of the story, and its writer
might have written something less significant in the place of the
following paragraph:

"As showing how far the beliefs of the understanding, the perceptions of
the senses, and the delusions of the imagination may be confounded, the
subject belongs not only to theology and moral and political science,
but to _physiology_, in its original and proper use, as embracing our
whole nature; and the facts presented may help to conclusions relating
to what is justly regarded as the great mystery of our being--the
connection between the body and the mind." (Vol. i. p. viii.)


CHARACTER OF THE EARLY SETTLEMENT.

The settlement had its birth in 1620, the date of the charter granted
by James I. to "the Governor and Company of Massachusetts Bay in New
England." The first policy of the company was to attract families of
good birth, position, education, and fortune, to take up considerable
portions of land, introduce the best agriculture known, and facilitate
the settling of the country. Hence the tone of manners, the social
organization, and the prevalence of the military spirit, which the
subsequent decline in the spirit of the community made it difficult for
careless thinkers to understand. Not only did the wealth of this class
of early settlers supply the district with roads and bridges, and clear
the forest; it set up the pursuit of agriculture in the highest place,
and encouraged intellectual pursuits, refined intercourse, and a loftier
spirit of colonizing enterprise than can be looked for among immigrants
whose energies are engrossed by the needs of the day. The mode of dress
of the gentry of this class shows us something of their aspect in their
new country, when prowling Indians were infesting the woods a stone's
throw from their fences, and when the rulers of the community took it
in turn with all their neighbors to act as scouts against the savages.
George Corwin was thus dressed:

"A wrought flowing neckcloth, a sash covered with lace, a coat with
short cuffs and reaching halfway between the wrist and elbow; the skirts
in plaits below; an octagon ring and cane. The last two articles are
still preserved. His inventory mentions 'a silver-laced cloth coat, a
velvet ditto, a satin waistcoat embroidered with gold, a trooping scarf
and silver hat-band, golden-topped and embroidered, and a silver-headed
cane.'" (Vol. i. p. 98.)

This aristocratic element was in large proportion to the total number
of settlers. It lifted up the next class to a position inferior only
to its own by its connection with land. The farmers formed an order by
themselves--not by having peculiar institutions, but through the dignity
ascribed to agriculture. The yeomanry of Massachusetts hold their heads
high to this day, and their fathers spoke proudly of themselves as "the
farmers." They penetrated the forest in all directions, sat down beside
the streams, and plowed up such level tracts as they found open to
the sunshine; so that in a few years "the Salem Farms" constituted a
well-defined territory, thinly peopled, but entirely appropriated. In
due course parishes were formed round the outskirts of "Salem Farms,"
encroaching more or less in all directions, and reducing the area to
that which was ultimately known as "Salem Village," in which some few
of the original grants of five hundred acres or less remained complete,
while others were divided among families or sold. Long before the date
of the Salem Tragedy, the strifes which follow upon the acquisition of
land had become common, and there was much ill-blood within the bounds
of the City of Peace. The independence, the mode of life, and the pride
of the yeomen made them excellent citizens, however, when war broke out
with the Indians or with any other foe; and the military spirit of the
aristocracy was well sustained by that of the farmers.

The dignity of the town had been early secured by the wisdom of the
Company at home, which had committed to the people the government of the
district in which they were placed; and every citizen felt himself, in
his degree, concerned in the rule and good order of the society in which
he lived; but the holders of land recognized no real equality between
themselves and men of other callings, while the artisans and laborers
were ambitious to obtain a place in the higher class. Artisans of every
calling needed in a new society had been sent out from England by the
Company; and when all the most energetic had acquired as much land as
could be had in recompense for special services to the community--as so
many acres for plowing up a meadow, so many for discovering minerals, so
many for foiling an Indian raid,--and when the original grants had been
broken up, and finally parceled out among sons and daughters, leaving
no scope for new purchasers, the most ambitious of the adventurers
applied for tracts in Maine, where they might play their part of First
Families in a new settlement. The weaker, the more envious, the more
ill-conditioned thus remained behind, to cavil at their prosperous
neighbors, and spite them if they could. Here was an evident preparation
for social disturbance, when opportunity for gratifying bad passions
should arise.


FIRST CAUSES.

There had been a preparation for this stage in the temper with which the
adventurers had arrived in the country, and the influences which at once
operated upon them there. The politics and the religion in which they
had grown up were gloomy and severe. Those who were not soured were sad;
and, it should be remembered, they fully believed that Satan and his
powers were abroad, and must be contended with daily and hourly, and in
every transaction of life. In their new home they found little cheer
from the sun and the common daylight; for the forest shrouded the entire
land beyond the barren seashore. The special enemy, the Red Indian,
always watching them and seeking his advantage of them, was not, in
their view, a simple savage. Their clergy assured them that the Red
Indians were worshipers and agents of Satan; and it is difficult to
estimate the effect of this belief on the minds and tempers of those
who were thinking of the Indians at every turn of daily life. The
passion which is in the far West still spoken of as special, under the
name of "Indian-hating," is a mingled ferocity and fanaticism quite
inconceivable by quiet Christians, or perhaps by any but border
adventurers; and this passion, kindled by the first demonstration of
hostility on the part of the Massachusetts Red Man, grew and spread
incessantly under the painful early experiences of colonial life. Every
man had in turn to be scout, by day and night, in the swamp and in the
forest; and every woman had to be on the watch in her husband's absence
to save her babes from murderers and kidnappers. Whatever else they
might want to be doing, even to supply their commonest needs, the
citizens had first to station themselves within hail of each other all
day, and at night to drive in their cattle among the dwellings, and keep
watch by turns. Even on Sundays patrols were appointed to look to the
public safety while the community were at church. The mothers carried
their babes to the meeting-house, rather than venture to stay at home in
the absence of husband and neighbors. One function of the Sabbath patrol
indicates to us other sources of trouble. While looking for Indians,
the patrol was to observe who was absent from worship, to mark what the
absentees were doing, and to give information to the authorities. These
patrols were chosen from the leading men of the community--the most
active, vigilant, and sensible--and it is conceivable that much
ill-will might have been accumulated in the hearts of not only the
ne'er-do-weels, but timid and jealous and angry persons who were uneasy
under this Sabbath inspection. Such ill-will had its day of triumph when
the Salem Tragedy arrived at its catastrophe.


DEATH OF THE PATRIARCH.

The ordinary experience of life was singularly accelerated in that new
state of society, though in the one particular of the age attained by
the primitive adventurers, the community may be regarded as favored.
Death made a great sweep of the patriarchs at last--shortly before
the Tragedy--but an unusual proportion of elders presided over social
affairs for seventy years after the date of the second charter. The
chief seats in the meeting-house were filled by gray-haired men and
women, rich or poor as might happen; and they were allowed to retain
their places, whoever else might be shifted in the yearly "seating."
The title "Landlord" distinguished the most dignified, and the eldest
of each family of the "Old Planters;" a "Goodman" and "Goodwife"
(abbreviated to "Goody") were titles of honor, as signifying heads
of households. The old age of these venerable persons was carefully
cherished; and when, as could not but happen, many of them departed
near together, the mourning of the community was deep and bitter.
Society seemed to be deprived of its parents, and in fear and grief
it anticipated the impending calamity. Except in regard to these
patriarchs, and their long old age, the pace of events was very rapid.
Early marriages might be looked for in a society so youthful; but the
rapid succession of second and subsequent marriages is a striking
feature in the register. The most devoted affection seems to have had
no effect in deferring a second marriage so long as a year. No time
was lost in settling in life at first; families were large; and
half-brothers and sisters abounded; and as they grew up they married on
the portions which were given them, as a matter of course,--each having
house, land, and plenishing, until at last the parents gave away all but
a sufficiency for their own need or convenience, and went into the town
or remained in the central mansion, turning over the land and its cares
to the younger generation. When there was a failure of offspring, the
practice of adoption seems to have been resorted to almost as a natural
process, which, in such a state of society, it probably was.


GROWTH.

In the early days of the arts of life it is usual for the separate
transactions of each day to be slow and cumbrous; but the experience of
life may be rapid nevertheless. While traveling was a rough jog-trot,
and forest-land took years to clear, and the harvest weeks to gather,
property grew fast, marriages were precipitate and repeated, one
generation trod on the heels of another, and the old folks complained
that The Enemy made rapid conquest of the new territory which they
had hoped he could not enter. When any work--of house-building, or
harvesting, or nutting, or furnishing, or raising the wood-pile--had to
be done, it was secured by assembling all the hands in the neighborhood,
and turning the toil into a festive pleasure. We have all read of such
"bees" in the rural districts of America down to the present day; and we
can easily understand how the "goodmen" and "goodies" watched for the
good and the evil which came out of such celebrations--the courtship and
marriage, and the neighborly interest and good offices on the one
hand, and the evil passions from disappointed hopes, envy, jealousy,
tittle-tattle, rash judgment, and slander on the other. Much that was
said, done, and inferred in such meetings as these found its way long
afterward into the Tragedy at Salem. Mr. Upham depicts the inner side of
the young social life of which the inquisitorial meeting-house and the
courts were the black shadow:

"The people of the early colonial settlements had a private and interior
life, as much as we have now, and the people of all ages and countries
have had. It is common to regard them in no other light than as a
severe, somber, and pleasure-abhorring generation. It was not so with
them altogether. They had the same nature that we have. It was not all
gloom and severity. They had their recreations, amusements, gayeties,
and frolics. Youth was as buoyant with hope and gladness, love as warm
and tender, mirth as natural to innocence, wit as sprightly, then as
now. There was as much poetry and romance; the merry laugh enlivened
the newly opened fields, and rang through the bordering woods as loud,
jocund, and unrestrained as in these older and more crowded settlements.
It is true that their theology was austere, and their policy, in Church
and State, stern; but, in their modes of life, there were some features
which gave peculiar opportunity to exercise and gratify a love of social
excitement of a pleasurable kind." (Vol. i. p. 200.)

Except such conflicts as arose about the boundaries of estates when the
General Court was remiss in making and enforcing its decisions, the
first and greatest strifes related to Church matters and theological
doctrines. The farmers had more lively minds, better informed as to law,
and more exercised in reasoning and judging than their class are usually
supposed to have; for there never was a time when lawsuits were not
going forward about the area and the rights of some landed property
or other; and intelligent men were called on to follow the course of
litigation, if not to serve the community in office. Thus they were
prepared for the strife when the operation of the two Churches pressed
for settlement.


TROUBLE IN THE CHURCH.

The farmers in the rural district thenceforward to be called "Salem
Village," desired to have a meeting-house and a minister of their own;
but the town authorities insisted on taxing them for the religious
establishment in Salem, from which they derived no benefit. In 1670,
twenty of them petitioned to be set off as a parish, and allowed to
provide a minister for themselves. In two years more the petition
was granted, as a compromise for larger privileges; but there were
restrictions which spoiled the grace of such concession as there was.
One of these restrictions was that no minister was to be permanently
settled without the permission of the old Church to proceed to his
ordination. Endless trouble arose out of this provision. The men who
had contributed the land, labor, and material for the meeting-house,
and the maintenance for the pastor, naturally desired to be free in
their choice of their minister, while the Church authorities in Salem
considered themselves responsible for the maintenance of true doctrine,
and for leaving no opening for Satan to enter the fold in the form of
heresy, or any kind or degree of dissent. Their fathers, the first
settlers, had made the colony too hot for one of their most virtuous
and distinguished citizens, because he had views of his own on Infant
Baptism; they had brought him to judgment, magistrate and church member
as he was, for not having presented his infant child at the font; he had
sold his estates and gone away. If such a citizen as Townsend Bishop
was thus lost to their society, how could the guardians of religion
surrender their control over any church or pastor within their reach?
They had spiritual charge of a community which had made its abode on the
American shore for the single purpose of living its own religious life
in its own way; and no dissent or modification from within could be
permitted, any more than intrusion or molestation from without. Between
the ecclesiastical view on the one hand, and the civil view on the
other, there was small chance of harmony between town and village, or
between pastor, flock, and the overseers of both. The great point on
which they were all agreed was that they were all in special danger from
the extreme malice of Satan, who, foiled in Puritan England, was bent
on revenge in America, and was visibly and audibly present in the
settlement, seeking whom he might devour.

Quarreling began with the appearance of the first minister, a young Mr.
Bayley, who was appointed from year to year, but never ordained the
pastor till 1679, when the authorities of Salem tried to force him
upon the people of Salem Village in the face of strong opposition. The
farmers disregarded the orders issued from the town, and managed their
religious affairs by general meetings of their own congregation; and at
length Mr. Bayley retired, leaving the society in a much worse temper
than he had found on his arrival. A handsome gift of land was settled
upon him, in acknowledgment of his services; he quitted the ministry,
and practiced medicine in Roxbury till his death, nearly thirty years
afterward.


REV. MR. BURROUGHS.

His partisans were enemies of his successor, of course. Mr. Burroughs
was a man of even distinguished excellence in the pastoral relation, in
days when risks from Indians made that duty as perilous as the career
of the soldier in war time; but his flock were divided, church business
was neglected, he was allowed to fall into want. He withdrew, was
recalled to settle accounts, was arrested for debt in full meeting--the
debt being for the funeral expenses of his wife--was absolved from all
blame under the cruel neglect he had experienced--and left the Village.
Before he could hear in his remote home in Maine what was doing at
Salem in the first days of the Witch Tragedy, he was summoned to his
old neighborhood, was charged with sorcery on the most childish and
absurd testimony conceivable, and executed in August, 1692. One of the
witnesses--a young girl morbid in body and mind--poured out her remorse
to him the day before his death. He, believing her a victim of Satan,
forgave her, prayed with her, and died honored and beloved by all who
were not under the curse of the bigotry of the time.


DEODAT LAWSON.

The third minister was one Deodat Lawson, who is notable--besides his
learning--for his Sermon on the Devil, and for some mournful mystery
about his end. Of his last days there is nothing known but that
there was something woeful in them; but his sermon, preached at the
commencement of the outbreak in Salem, remains to us. It was published
in America, and then widely circulated in England. It met the popular
craving for light about Satan and his doings; and thus, between its
appropriateness to the time and occasion, and the learning and ability
which it manifested, it produced an extraordinary effect in its day. In
ours it is an instructive evidence of the extent to which "knowledge
falsely so called" may operate on the mind of society, in the absence of
science, and before the time has arrived for a clear understanding of
the nature of knowledge and the conditions of its attainment. Mr. Lawson
bore a part in the Salem Tragedy, and then went to England, where we
hear of him from Calamy as "the unhappy Mr. Deodat Lawson," and he
disappears.


PARRIS--A MALIGNANT.

The fourth and last of the ministers of Salem Village, before the
Tragedy, was the Mr. Parris who played the most conspicuous part in it.
He must have been a man of singular shamelessness, as well as remarkable
selfishness, craft, ruthlessness, and withal imprudence. He began his
operations with sharp bargaining about his stipend, and sharp practice
in appropriating the house and land assigned for the use of successive
pastors. He wrought diligently under the stimulus of his ambition till
he got his meeting-house sanctioned as a true church, and himself
ordained as the first pastor of Salem Village. This was in 1689. He
immediately launched out into such an exercise of priestly power as
could hardly be exceeded under any form of church government; he set
his people by the ears on every possible occasion and on every possible
pretense; he made his church a scandal in the land for its brawls and
controversies; and on him rests the responsibility of the disease and
madness which presently turned his parish into a hell, and made it
famous for the murder of the wisest, gentlest, and purest Christians
it contained. [This man Parris must have had an inferior intellect,
small Conscientiousness, Benevolence, and Veneration; large Firmness,
Self-Esteem, Combativeness, Destructiveness, and Acquisitiveness.]


A PROTEAN DEVIL.

Before we look at his next proceeding, however, we must bring into view
one or two facts essential to the understanding of the case. We have
already observed on the universality of the belief in the ever-present
agency of Satan in that region and that special season. In the woods the
Red Men were his agents--living in and for his service and his worship.
In the open country, Satan himself was seen, as a black horse, a black
dog, as a tall, dark stranger, as a raven, a wolf, a cat, etc. Strange
incidents happened there as everywhere--odd bodily affections and mental
movements; and when devilish influences are watched for, they are sure
to be seen. Everybody was prepared for manifestations of witchcraft from
the first landing in the Bay; and there had been more and more cases,
not only rumored, but brought under investigation, for some years before
the final outbreak.

This suggests the next consideration: that the generation concerned
had no "alternative" explanation within their reach, when perplexed by
unusual appearances or actions of body or mind. They believed themselves
perfectly certain about the Devil and his doings; and his agency was the
only solution of their difficulties, while it was a very complete one.
They thought they knew that his method of working was by human agents,
whom he had won over and bound to his service. They had all been brought
up to believe this; and they never thought of doubting it.


STATE OF PHYSIOLOGY.

The very conception of science had then scarcely begun to be formed in
the minds of the wisest men of the time; and if it had been, who was
there to suggest that the handful of pulp contained in the human skull,
and the soft string of marrow in the spine, and cobweb lines of nerves,
apparently of no more account than the hairs of the head, could transmit
thoughts, emotions, passions--all the scenery of the spiritual world!
For two hundred years more there was no effectual recognition of
anything of the sort. At the end of those two centuries anatomists
themselves were slicing the brain like a turnip, to see what was inside
it,--not dreaming of the leading facts of its structure, nor of the
inconceivable delicacy of its organization. After half a century of
knowledge of the main truth in regard to the brain, and nearly that
period of study of its organization, by every established medical
authority in the civilized world, we are still perplexed and baffled
at every turn of the inquiry into the relations of body and mind. How,
then, can we make sufficient allowance for the effects of ignorance in
a community where theology was the main interest in life, where science
was yet unborn, and where all the influences of the period concurred
to produce and aggravate superstitions and bigotries which now seem
scarcely credible?

[The reviewer appears to be a half believer in Phrenology, and yet
unwilling to acknowledge his indebtedness to its teachers for the light
he has received in the organization and phenomena of the brain.]


WILLIAM PENN AS A PRECEDENT.

There had been misery enough caused by persecutions for witchcraft
within living memory to have warned Mr. Parris, one would think, how he
carried down his people into those troubled waters again; but at that
time such trials were regarded by society as trials for murder are by
us, and not as anything surprising except from the degree of wickedness.
William Penn presided at the trial of two Swedish women in Philadelphia
for this gravest of crimes; and it was only by the accident of a legal
informality that they escaped, the case being regarded with about the
same feeling as we experienced a year or two ago when the murderess of
infants, Charlotte Winsor, was saved from hanging by a doubt of the law.
If the crime spread--as it usually did--the municipal governments issued
an order for a day of fasting and humiliation, "in consideration of the
extent to which Satan prevails amongst us in respect of witchcraft."
Among the prosecutions which followed on such observances there was one
here and there which turned out, too late, to have been a mistake.
This kind of discovery might be made an occasion for more fasting and
humiliation; but it seems to have had no effect in inducing caution or
suggesting self-distrust. Mr. Parris and his partisans must have been
aware that on occasion of the last great spread of witchcraft, the
magistrates and the General Court had set aside the verdict of the jury
in one case of wrongful accusation, and that there were other instances
in which the general heart and conscience were cruelly wounded and
oppressed, under the conviction that the wisest and saintliest woman in
the community had been made away with by malice, at least as much as
mistaken zeal.

The wife of one of the most honored and prominent citizens of Boston,
and the sister of the Deputy Governor of Massachusetts, Mrs. Hibbins,
might have been supposed safe from the gallows, while she walked in
uprightness, and all holiness and gentleness of living. But her husband
died; and the pack of fanatics sprang upon her, and tore her to
pieces--name and fame, fortune, life, and everything. She was hanged in
1656, and the farmers of Salem Village and their pastor were old enough
to know, in Mr. Parris' time, how the "famous Mr. Norton," an eminent
pastor, "once said at his own table"--before clergymen and elders--"that
one of their magistrates' wives was hanged for a witch, only for having
more wit than her neighbors;" and to be aware that in Boston "a deep
feeling of resentment" against her persecutors rankled in the minds of
some of her citizens; and that they afterward "observed solemn marks of
Providence set upon those who were very forward to condemn her." The
story of Mrs. Hibbins, as told in the book before us, with the brief
and simple comment of her own pleading in court, and the codicil to her
will, is so piteous and so fearful, that it is difficult to imagine how
any clergyman could countenance a similar procedure before the memory
of the execution had died out, and could be supported in his course
by officers of his church, and at length by the leading clergy of the
district, the magistrates, the physicians, "and devout women not a few."

[Here are evidences of large Cautiousness, fear, and timidity, with the
vivid imagination of untrained childhood.]


PHENOMENA OF WITCHERY.

In the interval between the execution of Mrs. Hibbins and the outbreak
at Salem an occasional breeze arose against some unpopular member of
society. If a man's ox was ill, if the beer ran out of the cask, if the
butter would not come in the churn, if a horse shied or was restless
when this or that man or woman was in sight; and if a woman knew when
her neighbors were talking about her (which was Mrs. Hibbins' most
indisputable proof of connection with the devil), rumors got about of
Satanic intercourse; men and women made deposition that six or seven
years before, they had seen the suspected person yawn in church, and
had observed a "devil's teat" distinctly visible under his tongue; and
children told of bears coming to them in the night, and of a buzzing
devil in the humble-bee, and of a cat on the bed thrice as big as an
ordinary cat. But the authorities, on occasion, exercised some caution.
They fined one accused person for telling a lie, instead of treating his
bragging as inspiration of the devil. They induced timely confession, or
discovered flaws in the evidence, as often as they could; so that there
was less disturbance in the immediate neighborhood than in some other
parts of the province. Where the Rev. Mr. Parris went, however, there
was no more peace and quiet, no more privacy in the home, no more
harmony in the church, no more goodwill or good manners in society.

As soon as he was ordained he put perplexing questions about baptism
before the farmers, who rather looked to him for guidance in such
matters than expected to be exercised in theological mysteries which
they had never studied. He exposed to the congregation the spiritual
conflicts of individual members who were too humble for their own
comfort. He preached and prayed incessantly about his own wrongs and the
slights he suffered, in regard to his salary and supplies; and entered
satirical notes in the margin of the church records; so that he was as
abundantly discussed from house to house, and from end to end of his
parish, as he himself could have desired. In the very crisis of
the discontent, and when his little world was expecting to see him
dismissed, he saved himself, as we ourselves have of late seen other
persons relieve themselves under stress of mind and circumstances, by a
rush into the world of spirits.

Four years previously, a poor immigrant, a Catholic Irishwoman, had
been hanged in Boston for bewitching four children, named Goodwin--one
of whom, a girl of thirteen, had sorely tried a reverend man, less
irascible than Mr. Parris, but nearly as excitable. The tricks that the
little girl played the Reverend Cotton Mather, when he endeavored to
exorcise the evil spirits, are precisely such as are familiar to us, in
cases which are common in the practice of every physician. If we can
not pretend to explain them--in the true sense of explaining--that is,
referring them to an ascertained law of nature, we know what to look for
under certain conditions, and are aware that it is the brain and nervous
system that is implicated in these phenomena, and not the Prince
of Darkness and his train. Cotton Mather had no alternative at his
disposal. Satan or nothing was his only choice. He published the story,
with all its absurd details; and it was read in almost every house in
the Province. At Salem it wrought with fatal effect, because there was a
pastor close by well qualified to make the utmost mischief out of it.

[In cases of _hysteria_, the phenomena are sometimes so remarkable, that
one is disposed to attribute their cause to influences beyond nature.]


PARRIS AND HIS "CIRCLE."

Mr. Parris had lived in the West Indies for some years, and had brought
several slaves with him to Salem. One of these, an Indian named John,
and Tituba his wife, seem to have been full of the gross superstitions
of their people, and of the frame and temperament best adapted for the
practices of demonology. In such a state of affairs the pastor actually
formed, or allowed to be formed, a society of young girls between the
ages of eight and eighteen to meet in his parsonage, strongly resembling
those "circles" in the America of our time which have filled the lunatic
asylums with thousands of victims of "spiritualist" visitations. It
seems that these young persons were laboring under strong nervous
excitement, which was encouraged rather than repressed by the means
employed by their spiritual director. Instead of treating them as the
subjects of morbid delusion, Mr. Parris regarded them as the victims of
external diabolical influence; and this influence was, strangely enough,
supposed to be exercised, on the evidence of the children themselves, by
some of the most pious and respectable members of the community.

We need not describe the course of events. In the dull life of the
country, the excitement of the proceedings in the "circle" was welcome,
no doubt; and it was always on the increase. Whatever trickery there
might be--and no doubt there was plenty; whatever excitement to
hysteria, whatever actual sharpening of common faculties, it is clear
that there was more; and those who have given due and dispassionate
attention to the processes of mesmerism and their effects can have no
difficulty in understanding the reports handed down of what these young
creatures did, and said, and saw, under peculiar conditions of the
nervous system. When the physicians of the district could see no
explanation of the ailments of "the afflicted children" but "the evil
hand," no doubt could remain to those who consulted them of these
agonies being the work of Satan. The matter was settled at once. But
Satan can work only through human agents; and who were his instruments
for the affliction of these children? Here was the opening through which
calamity rushed in; and for half a year this favored corner of the godly
land of New England was turned into a hell. The more the children were
stared at and pitied, the bolder they grew in their vagaries, till at
last they broke through the restraints of public worship, and talked
nonsense to the minister in the pulpit, and profaned the prayers. Mr.
Parris assembled all the divines he could collect at his parsonage, and
made his troop go through their performances--the result of which was
a general groan over the manifest presence of the Evil One, and a
passionate intercession for "the afflicted children."

[These afflicted children of Salem, in 1690, were kindred to the
numerous "mediums" of 1869. In the former, ignorance ascribed their
actions and revelations to the devil, who bewitched certain persons.
Now, we simply have the more innocent "communications" from where and
from whom you like.]


THE INQUISITIONS.--SARAH GOOD.

The first step toward relief was to learn who it was that had stricken
them; and the readiest means that occurred was to ask this question of
the children themselves. At first, they named no names, or what they
said was not disclosed; but there was soon an end of all such delicacy.
The first symptoms had occurred in November, 1691; and the first public
examination of witches took place on the 1st of March following. We
shall cite as few of the cases as will suffice for our purpose; for
they are exceedingly painful; and there is something more instructive
for us in the spectacle of the consequences, and in the suggestions of
the story, than in the scenery of persecution and murder.

In the first group of accused persons was one Sarah Good, a weak,
ignorant, poor, despised woman, whose equally weak and ignorant husband
had forsaken her, and left her to the mercy of evil tongues. He had
called her an enemy to all good, and had said that if she was not
a witch, he feared she would be one shortly. Her assertions under
examination were that she knew nothing about the matter; that she had
hurt nobody, nor employed anybody to hurt another; that she served
God; and that the God she served was He who made heaven and earth. It
appears, however, that she believed in the reality of the "affliction;"
for she ended by accusing a fellow-prisoner of having hurt the children.
The report of the examination, noted at the time by two of the heads of
the congregation, is inane and silly beyond belief; yet the celebration
was unutterably solemn to the assembled crowd of fellow-worshipers; and
it sealed the doom of the community, in regard to peace and good repute.


A CHILD WITCH.

Mrs. Good was carried to jail. Not long after her little daughter
Dorcas, aged four years, was apprehended at the suit of the brothers
Putnam, chief citizens of Salem. There was plenty of testimony produced
of bitings and chokings and pinchings inflicted by this infant; and she
was committed to prison, and probably, as Mr. Upham says, fettered with
the same chains which bound her mother. Nothing short of chains could
keep witches from flying away; and they were chained at the cost of
the state, when they could not pay for their own irons. As these poor
creatures were friendless and poverty-stricken, it is some comfort to
find the jailer charging for "two blankets for Sarah Good's child,"
costing ten shillings.

What became of little Dorcas, with her healthy looks and natural
childlike spirits, noticed by her accusers, we do not learn. Her mother
lay in chains till the 29th of June, when she was brought out to receive
sentence. She was hanged on the 19th of July, after having relieved her
heart by vehement speech of some of the passion which weighed upon
it. She does not seem to have been capable of much thought. One of
the accusers was convicted of a flagrant lie, in the act of giving
testimony: but the narrator, Hutchinson, while giving the fact, treats
it as of no consequence, because Sir Matthew Hale and the jury of his
court were satisfied with the condemnation of a witch under precisely
the same circumstances. The parting glimpse we have of this first victim
is dismally true on the face of it. It is most characteristic.

"Sarah Good appears to have been an unfortunate woman, having been
subject to poverty, and consequent sadness and melancholy. But she was
not wholly broken in spirit. Mr. Noyes, at the time of her execution,
urged her very strenuously to confess. Among other things, he told her
'she was a witch, and that she knew she was a witch.' She was conscious
of her innocence, and felt that she was oppressed, outraged, trampled
upon, and about to be murdered, under the forms of law; and her
indignation was roused against her persecutors. She could not bear in
silence the cruel aspersion; and although she was about to be launched
into eternity, the torrent of her feelings could not be restrained, but
burst upon the head of him who uttered the false accusation. 'You are a
liar,' said she. 'I am no more a witch than you are a wizard; and if you
take away my life, God will give you blood to drink.' Hutchinson says
that, in his day, there was a tradition among the people of Salem, and
it has descended to the present time, that the manner of Mr. Noyes'
death strangely verified the prediction thus wrung from the incensed
spirit of the dying woman. He was exceedingly corpulent, of a plethoric
habit, and died of an internal hemorrhage, bleeding profusely at the
mouth." (Vol. ii. p. 269.)

When she had been in her grave nearly twenty years, her
representatives--little Dorcas perhaps for one--were presented with
thirty pounds sterling, as a grant from the Crown, as compensation for
the mistake of hanging her without reason and against evidence.


THE TOWNE SISTERS.

In the early part of the century, a devout family named Towne were
living at Great Yarmouth, in the English county of Norfolk. About the
time of the King's execution they emigrated to Massachusetts. William
Towne and his wife carried with them two daughters; and another daughter
and a son were born to them afterward in Salem. The three daughters were
baptized at long intervals, and the eldest, Rebecca, must have been at
least twenty years older than Sarah, and a dozen or more years older
than Mary. A sketch of the fate of these three sisters contains within
it the history of a century.

On the map which Mr. Upham presents us with, one of the most conspicuous
estates is an inclosure of 300 acres, which had a significant story of
its own--too long for us to enter upon. We need only say that there had
been many strifes about this property--fights about boundaries, and
stripping of timber, and a series of lawsuits. Yet, from 1678 onward,
the actual residents in the mansion had lived in peace, taking no notice
of wrangles which did not, under the conditions of purchase, affect
them, but only the former proprietor. The frontispiece of Mr. Upham's
book shows us what the mansion of an opulent landowner was like in the
early days of the colony. It is the portrait of the house in which the
eldest daughter of William Towne was living at the date of the Salem
Tragedy.

Rebecca, then the aged wife of Francis Nurse, was a great-grandmother,
and between seventy and eighty years of age. No old age could have had
a more lovely aspect than hers. Her husband was, as he had always been,
devoted to her, and the estate was a colony of sons and daughters, and
their wives and husbands; for 'Landlord Nurse' had divided his land
between his four sons and three sons-in-law, and had built homesteads
for them all as they married and settled. Mrs. Nurse was in full
activity of faculty, except being somewhat deaf from age; and her health
was good, except for certain infirmities of long standing, which it
required the zeal and the malice of such a divine as Mr. Parris to
convert into "devil's marks." As for her repute in the society of which
she was the honored head, we learn what it was by the testimony supplied
by forty persons--neighbors and householders--who were inquired of in
regard to their opinion of her in the day of her sore trial. Some of
them had known her above forty years; they had seen her bring up a large
family in uprightness; they had remarked the beauty of her Christian
profession and conduct; and had never heard or observed any evil of her.
This was Rebecca, the eldest.

The next, Mary, was now fifty-eight years old, the wife of "Goodman
Easty," the owner of a large farm. She had seven children, and was
living in ease and welfare of every sort when overtaken by the same
calamity as her sister Nurse. Sarah, the youngest, had married twice.
Her present husband was Peter Cloyse, whose name occurs in the parish
records, and in various depositions which show that he was a prominent
citizen. When Mr. Parris was publicly complaining of neglect in respect
of firewood for the parsonage, and of lukewarmness on the part of the
hearers of his services, "Landlord Nurse" was a member of the committee
who had to deal with him; and his relatives were probably among the
majority who were longing for Mr. Parris' apparently inevitable
departure. In these circumstances, it was not altogether surprising that
"the afflicted children" trained in the parsonage parlor, ventured,
after their first successes, to name the honored "Goody Nurse" as one
of the allies lately acquired by Satan. They saw her here, there,
everywhere, when she was sitting quietly at home; they saw her biting
the black servants, choking, pinching, pricking women and children; and
if she was examined, devil's marks would doubtless be found upon her.
She _was_ examined by a jury of her own sex. Neither the testimony of
her sisters and daughters as to her infirmities, nor the disgust of
decent neighbors, nor the commonest suggestions of reason and feeling,
availed to save her from the injury of being reported to have what the
witnesses were looking for.

We have a glimpse of her in her home when the first conception of her
impending fate opened upon her. Four esteemed persons, one of whom was
her brother-in-law, Mr. Cloyse, made the following deposition, in the
prospect of the victim being dragged before the public:

"We whose names are underwritten being desired to go to Goodman Nurse,
his house, to speak with his wife, and to tell her that several of the
afflicted persons mentioned her; and accordingly we went, and we found
her in a weak and low condition in body as she told us, and had been
sick almost a week. And we asked how it was otherwise with her; and
she said she blessed God for it, she had more of his presence in this
sickness than sometimes she have had, but not so much as she desired;
but she would, with the Apostle, press forward to the mark; and many
other places of Scripture to the like purpose. And then of her own
accord she began to speak of the affliction that was among them, and in
particular of Mr. Parris his family, and how she was grieved for them,
though she had not been to see them, by reason of fits that she formerly
used to have; for people said it was awful to behold: but she pitied
them with all her heart, and went to God for them. But she said she
heard that there was persons spoke of that were as innocent as she was,
she believed; and after much to this purpose, we told her we heard that
she was spoken of also. 'Well,' she said, 'if it be so, the will of the
Lord be done:' she sat still awhile being as it were amazed; and then
she said, 'Well, as to this thing I am as innocent as the child unborn;
but surely,' she said, 'what sin hath God found out in me unrepented
of, that he should lay such an affliction upon me in my old age?' and,
according to our best observation, we could not discern that she knew
what we came for before we told her.

  ISRAEL PORTER,        DANIEL ANDREW,
  ELIZABETH PORTER,     PETER CLOYSE."

On the 22d of March she was brought into the thronged meeting-house to
be accused before the magistrates, and to answer as she best could. We
must pass over those painful pages, where nonsense, spasms of hysteria,
new and strange to their worships, cunning, cruelty, blasphemy,
indecency, turned the house of prayer into a hell for the time. The aged
woman could explain nothing. She simply asserted her innocence, and
supposed that some evil spirit was at work. One thing more she could
do--she could endure with calmness malice and injustice which are too
much for our composure at a distance of nearly two centuries. She felt
the _animus_ of her enemies, and she pointed out how they perverted
whatever she said; but no impatient word escaped her. She was evidently
as perplexed as anybody present. When weary and disheartened, and worn
out with the noise and the numbers and the hysterics of the "afflicted,"
her head drooped on one shoulder. Immediately all the "afflicted" had
twisted necks, and rude hands seized her head to set it upright, "lest
other necks should be broken by her ill offices." Everything went
against her, and the result was what had been hoped by the agitators.
The venerable matron was carried to jail and put in irons.


DEPOSITIONS OF PARRIS AND HIS TOOLS.

Now Mr. Parris' time had arrived, and he broadly accused her of murder,
employing for the purpose a fitting instrument--Mrs. Ann Putnam, the
mother of one of the afflicted children, and herself of highly nervous
temperament, undisciplined mind, and absolute devotedness to her pastor.
Her deposition, preceded by a short one of Mr. Parris, will show the
quality of the evidence on which judicial murder was inflicted:

"Mr. Parris gave in a deposition against her; from which it appears,
that, a certain person being sick, Mercy Lewis was sent for. She was
struck dumb on entering the chamber. She was asked to hold up her hand
if she saw any of the witches afflicting the patient. Presently she
held up her hand, then fell into a trance; and after a while, coming to
herself, said that she saw the spectre of Goody Nurse and Goody Carrier
having hold of the head of the sick man. Mr. Parris swore to this
statement with the utmost confidence in Mercy's declarations." (Vol. ii.
p. 275.)

"The deposition of Ann Putnam, the wife of Thomas Putnam, aged about
thirty years, who testifieth and saith, that on March 18, 1692, I being
wearied out in helping to tend my poor afflicted child and maid, about
the middle of the afternoon I lay me down on the bed to take a little
rest; and immediately I was almost pressed and choked to death, that had
it not been for the mercy of a gracious God and the help of those that
were with me, I could not have lived many moments; and presently I
saw the apparition of Martha Corey, who did torture me so as I can not
express, ready to tear me all to pieces, and then departed from me a
little while; but, before I could recover strength or well take breath,
the apparition of Martha Corey fell upon me again with dreadful
tortures, and hellish temptation to go along with her. And she also
brought to me a little red book in her hand, and a black pen, urging
me vehemently to write in her book; and several times that day she did
most grievously torture me, almost ready to kill me. And on the 19th of
March, Martha Corey again appeared to me; and also Rebecca Nurse, the
wife of Francis Nurse, Sr.; and they both did torture me a great many
times this day, with such tortures as no tongue can express, because
I would not yield to their hellish temptations, that, had I not been
upheld by an Almighty arm, I could not have lived while night. The 20th
of March, being Sabbath-day, I had a great deal of respite between my
fits. 21st of March being the day of the examination of Martha Corey,
I had not many fits, though I was very weak; my strength being, as I
thought, almost gone; but, on 22d of March, 1692, the apparition of
Rebecca Nurse did again set upon me in a most dreadful manner, very
early in the morning, as soon as it was well light. And now she appeared
to me only in her shift, and brought a little red book in her hand,
urging me vehemently to write in her book; and, because I would not
yield to her hellish temptations, she threatened to tear my soul out of
my body, blasphemously denying the blessed God, and the power of the
Lord Jesus Christ to save my soul; and denying several places of
Scripture, which I told her of, to repel her hellish temptations. And
for near two hours together, at this time, the apparition of Rebecca
Nurse did tempt and torture me, and also the greater part of this day,
with but very little respite. 23d of March, am again afflicted by the
apparitions of Rebecca Nurse and Martha Corey, but chiefly by Rebecca
Nurse. 24th of March, being the day of the examination of Rebecca Nurse,
I was several times afflicted in the morning by the apparition of
Rebecca Nurse, but most dreadfully tortured by her in the time of her
examination, insomuch that the honored magistrates gave my husband leave
to carry me out of the meeting-house; and, as soon as I was carried out
of the meeting-house doors, it pleased Almighty God, for his free grace
and mercy's sake, to deliver me out of the paws of those roaring lions,
and jaws of those tearing bears, that, ever since that time, they have
not had power so to afflict me until this May 31, 1692. At the same
moment that I was hearing my evidence read by the honored magistrates,
to take my oath, I was again re-assaulted and tortured by my
before-mentioned tormentor, Rebecca Nurse." "The testimony of Ann
Putnam, Jr., witnesseth and saith, that, being in the room where her
mother was afflicted, she saw Martha Corey, Sarah Cloyse, and Rebecca
Nurse, or their apparitions, upon her mother."

"Mrs. Ann Putnam made another deposition under oath at the same trial,
which shows that she was determined to overwhelm the prisoner by the
multitude of her charges. She says that Rebecca Nurse's apparition
declared to her that 'she had killed Benjamin Houlton, John Fuller,
and Rebecca Shepherd;' and that she and her sister Cloyse, and Edward
Bishop's wife, had killed young John Putnam's child; and she further
deposed as followeth: 'Immediately there did appear to me six children
in winding-sheets, which called me aunt, which did most grievously
affright me; and they told me that they were my sister Baker's children
of Boston; and that Goody Nurse, and Mistress Corey of Charlestown, and
an old deaf woman at Boston, had murdered them, and charged me to go
and tell these things to the magistrates, or else they would tear me to
pieces, for their blood did cry for vengeance. Also there appeared to me
my own sister Bayley and three of her children in winding-sheets, and
told me that Goody Nurse had murdered them.'" (Vol. ii. p. 278.)

All the efforts made to procure testimony against the venerable
gentlewoman's character issued in a charge that she had so "railed at" a
neighbor for allowing his pigs to get into her field that, some short
time after, early in the morning, he had a sort of fit in his own entry,
and languished in health from that day, and died in a fit at the end of
the summer. "He departed this life by a cruel death," murdered by Goody
Nurse. The jury did not consider this ground enough for hanging the old
lady, who had been the ornament of their church and the glory of their
village and its society. Their verdict was "Not Guilty." Not for a
moment, however, could the prisoner and her family hope that their
trial was over. The outside crowd clamored; the "afflicted" howled and
struggled; one judge declared himself dissatisfied; another promised to
have her indicted anew; and the Chief Justice pointed out a phrase of
the prisoner's which might be made to signify that she was one of the
accused gang in guilt, as well as in jeopardy. It might really seem
as if the authorities were all driveling together, when we see the
ingenuity and persistence with which they discussed those three words,
"of our company." Her remonstrance ought to have moved them:

"I intended no otherwise than as they were prisoners with us, and
therefore did then, and yet do, judge them not legal evidence against
their fellow-prisoners. And I being something hard of hearing and full
of grief, none informing me how the Court took up my words, therefore
had no opportunity to declare what I intended when I said they were of
our company." (Vol. ii. p. 285.)

The foreman of the jury would have taken the favorable view of this
matter, and have allowed full consideration, while other jurymen were
eager to recall the mistake of their verdict; but the prisoner's
silence, from failing to hear when she was expected to explain, turned
the foreman against her, and caused him to declare, "whereupon these
words were to me a principal evidence against her." Still, it seemed too
monstrous to hang her. After her condemnation, the Governor reprieved
her; probably on the ground of the illegality of setting aside the first
verdict of the jury, in the absence of any new evidence. But the outcry
against mercy was so fierce that the Governor withdrew his reprieve.


GOODY NURSE'S EXCOMMUNICATION.

On the next Sunday there was a scene in the church, the record of which
was afterward annotated by the church members in a spirit of grief and
humiliation. After sacrament the elders propounded to the church, and
the congregation unanimously agreed, that Sister Nurse, being convicted
as a witch by the court, should be excommunicated in the afternoon of
the same day. The place was thronged; the reverend elders were in the
pulpit; the deacons presided below; the sheriff and his officers brought
in the witch, and led her up the broad aisle, her chains clanking as she
moved. As she stood in the middle of the aisle, the Reverend Mr. Noyes
pronounced her sentence of expulsion from the Church on earth, and from
all hope of salvation hereafter. As she had given her soul to Satan,
she was delivered over to him for ever. She was aware that every
eye regarded her with horror and hate, unapproached under any other
circumstances; but it appears that she was able to sustain it. She was
still calm and at peace on that day, and during the fortnight of final
waiting. When the time came, she traversed the streets of Salem between
houses in which she had been an honored guest, and surrounded by
well-known faces; and then there was the hard task, for her aged limbs,
of climbing the rocky and steep path on Witches' Hill to the place where
the gibbets stood in a row, and the hangman was waiting for her, and for
Sarah Good, and several more of whom Salem chose to be rid that day. It
was the 19th of July, 1692. The bodies were put out of the way on the
hill, like so many dead dogs; but this one did not remain there long.
By pious hands it was--nobody knew when--brought home to the domestic
cemetery, where the next generation pointed out the grave, next to her
husband's, and surrounded by those of her children. As for her repute,
Hutchinson, the historian, tells us that even excommunication could not
permanently disgrace her. "Her life and conversation had been such,
that the remembrance thereof, in a short time after, wiped off all the
reproach occasioned by the civil or ecclesiastical sentence against
her." (Vol. ii. p. 292.)

[Great God! and is this the road our ancestors had to travel in their
pilgrimage in quest of freedom and Christianity? Are these the fruits of
the misunderstood doctrine of total depravity?]

Thus much comfort her husband had till he died in 1695. In a little
while none of his eight children remained unmarried, and he wound up
his affairs. He gave over the homestead to his son Samuel, and divided
all he had among the others, reserving only a mare and her saddle, some
favorite articles of furniture, and £14 a year, with a right to call on
his children for any further amount that might be needful. He made no
will, and his children made no difficulties, but tended his latter days,
and laid him in his own ground, when at seventy-seven years old he died.

In 1711, the authorities of the Province, sanctioned by the Council
of Queen Anne, proposed such reparation as their heart and conscience
suggested. They made a grant to the representatives of Rebecca Nurse of
£25! In the following year something better was done, on the petition of
the son Samuel who inhabited the homestead. A church meeting was called;
the facts of the excommunication of twenty years before were recited,
and a reversal was proposed, "the General Court having taken off the
attainder, and the testimony on which she was convicted being not now so
satisfactory to ourselves and others as it was generally in that hour
of darkness and temptation." The remorseful congregation blotted out
the record in the church book, "humbly requesting that the merciful God
would pardon whatsoever sin, error, or mistake was in the application of
that censure, and of the whole affair, through our merciful High Priest,
who knoweth how to have compassion on the ignorant, and those that are
out of the way." (Vol. ii. p. 483.)


MARY EASTY.

Such was the fate of Rebecca, the eldest of the three sisters. Mary,
the next--once her playmate on the sands of Yarmouth, in the old
country--was her companion to the last, in love and destiny. Mrs. Easty
was arrested, with many other accused persons, on the 21st of April,
while her sister was in jail in irons. The testimony against her was a
mere repetition of the charges of torturing, strangling, pricking, and
pinching Mr. Parris' young friends, and rendering them dumb, or blind,
or amazed. Mrs. Easty was evidently so astonished and perplexed by the
assertions of the children, that the magistrates inquired of the voluble
witnesses whether they might not be mistaken. As they were positive, and
Mrs. Easty could say only that she supposed it was "a bad spirit," but
did not know "whether it was witchcraft or not," there was nothing to
be done but to send her to prison and put her in irons. The next we hear
of her is, that on the 18th of May she was free. The authorities, it
seems, would not detain her on such evidence as was offered. She was at
large for two days, and no more. The convulsions and tortures of the
children returned instantly, on the news being told of Goody Easty being
abroad again; and the ministers, and elders, and deacons, and all the
zealous antagonists of Satan went to work so vigorously to get up a
fresh case, that they bore down all before them. Mercy Lewis was so near
death under the hands of Mrs. Easty's apparition that she was crying out
"Dear Lord! receive my soul!" and thus there was clearly no time to be
lost; and this choking and convulsion, says an eminent citizen, acting
as a witness, "occurred very often until such time as we understood Mary
Easty was laid in irons."

There she was lying when her sister Nurse was tried, excommunicated,
and executed; and to the agony of all this was added the arrest of her
sister Sarah, Mrs. Cloyse. But she had such strength as kept her serene
up to the moment of her death on the gibbet on the 22d of September
following. We would fain give, if we had room, the petition of the two
sisters, Mrs. Easty and Mrs. Cloyse, to the court, when their trial was
pending; but we can make room only for the last clause of its reasoning
and remonstrance.

"Thirdly, that the testimony of witches, or such as are afflicted as is
supposed by witches, may not be improved to condemn us without other
legal evidence concurring. We hope the honored Court and jury will be
so tender of the lives of such as we are, who have for many years lived
under the unblemished reputation of Christianity, as not to condemn them
without a fair and equal hearing of what may be said for us as well as
against us. And your poor suppliants shall be bound always to pray,
etc." (Vol. ii. p. 326.)

Still more affecting is the Memorial of Mrs. Easty when under sentence
of death and fully aware of the hopelessness of her case. She addresses
the judges, the magistrates, and the reverend ministers, imploring them
to consider what they are doing, and how far their course in regard to
accused persons is consistent with the principles and rules of justice.
She asks nothing for herself; she is satisfied with her own innocency,
and certain of her doom on earth and her hope in heaven. What she
desires is to induce the authorities to take time, to use caution
in receiving and strictness in sifting testimony; and so shall they
ascertain the truth, and absolve the innocent, the blessing of God
being upon their conscientious endeavors. We do not know of any
effect produced by her warning and remonstrance; but we find her case
estimated, twenty years afterward, as meriting a compensation of £20!
[About one hundred dollars.] Before setting forth from the jail to the
Witches' Hill, on the day of her death, she serenely bade farewell to
her husband, her many children, and her friends, some of whom related
afterward that "her sayings were as serious, religious, distinct, and
affectionate as could well be expressed, drawing tears from the eyes of
almost all present."


MRS. CLOYSE.

The third of this family of dignified gentlewomen seems to have had a
keener sensibility than her sisters, or a frame less strong to endure
the shocks prepared and inflicted by the malice of the enemy. Some of
the incidents of her implication in the great calamity are almost too
moving to be dwelt on, even in a remote time and country. Mrs. Cloyse
drew ill-will upon herself at the outset by doing as her brother and
sister Nurse did. They all absented themselves from the examinations
in the church, and, when the interruptions of the services became too
flagrant, from Sabbath worship; and they said they took that course
because they disapproved of the permission given to the profanation
of the place and the service. They were communicants, and persons of
consideration, both in regard to character and position; and their quiet
disapprobation of the proceedings of the ministers and their company of
accusers subjected them to the full fury of clerical wrath and womanish
spite. When the first examination of Mrs. Nurse took place, Mrs. Cloyse
was of course overwhelmed with horror and grief. The next Sunday,
however, was Sacrament Sunday; and she and her husband considered it
their duty to attend the ordinance. The effort to Mrs. Cloyse was so
great that when Mr. Parris gave out his text, "One of you is a devil. He
spake of Judas Iscariot," etc., and when he opened his discourse with
references in his special manner to the transactions of the week, the
afflicted sister of the last victim could not endure the outrage. She
left the meeting. There was a fresh wind, and the door slammed as she
went out, fixing the attention of all present, just as Mr. Parris could
have desired. She had not to wait long for the consequences. On the 4th
of April she was apprehended with several others; and on the 11th her
examination took place, the questions being framed to suit the evidence
known to be forthcoming, and Mr. Parris being the secretary for the
occasion. The witness in one case was asked whether she saw a company
eating and drinking at Mr. Parris', and she replied, as expected, that
she did. "What were they eating and drinking?" Of course, it was the
Devil's sacrament; and Mr. Parris, by leading questions, brought out the
testimony that about forty persons partook of that hell-sacrament, Mrs.
Cloyse and Sarah Good being the two deacons! When accused of the usual
practices of cruelty to these innocent suffering children, and to the
ugly, hulking Indian slave, who pretended to show the marks of her
teeth, Mrs. Cloyse gave some vent to her feelings. "When did I hurt
thee?" "A great many times," said the Indian. "O, you are a grievous
liar!" exclaimed she. But the wrath gave way under the soul-sickness
which overcame her when charged with biting and pinching a black man,
and throttling children, and serving their blood at the blasphemous
supper. Her sisters in prison, her husband accused with her, and young
girls--mere children--now manifesting a devilish cruelty to her, who had
felt nothing but good-will to them--she could not sustain herself before
the assembly whose eyes were upon her. She sank down, calling for water.
She fainted on the floor, and some of the accusing children cried out,
"Oh! her spirit has gone to prison to her sister Nurse!" From that
examination she was herself carried to prison.

When she joined her sister Easty in the petition to the Court in the
next summer, she certainly had no idea of escaping the gallows; but it
does not appear that she was ever brought to trial. Mr. Parris certainly
never relented; for we find him from time to time torturing the feelings
of this and every other family whom he supposed to be anything but
affectionate to him. Some of the incidents would be almost incredible to
us if they were not recorded in the church and parish books in Mr.
Parris' own distinct handwriting.

On the 14th of August, when the corpse of Rebecca Nurse was lying among
the rocks on the Witches' Hill, and her two sisters were in irons in
Boston jail (for Boston had now taken the affair out of the hands of
the unaided Salem authorities), and his predecessor, Mr. Burroughs, was
awaiting his execution, Mr. Parris invited his church members to remain
after service to hear something that he had to say. He had to point out
to the vigilance of the church that Samuel Nurse, the son of Rebecca,
and his wife, and Peter Cloyse and certain others, of late had failed
to join the brethren at the Lord's table, and had, except Samuel Nurse,
rarely appeared at ordinary worship. These outraged and mourning
relatives of the accused sisters were decreed to be visited by certain
pious representatives of the church, and the reason of their absence
to be demanded. The minister, the two deacons, and a chief member were
appointed to this fearful task. The report delivered in on the 31st of
August was:

"Brother Tarbell proves sick, unmeet for discourse; Brother Cloyse hard
to be found at home, being often with his wife in the prison at Ipswich
for witchcraft; and Brother Samuel Nurse, and sometimes his wife,
attends our public meeting, and he the sacrament, 11th of September,
1692: upon all which we chose to wait further." (Vol. ii. p. 486.)

This decision to pause was noted as the first token of the decline of
the power of the ministers. Mr. Parris was sorely unwilling to yield
even this much advantage to Satan--that is, to family affection and
instinct of justice. But his position was further lowered by the
departure from the parish of some of the most eminent members of its
society. Mr. Cloyse never brought his family to the Village again,
when his wife was once out of prison; and the name disappears from the
history of Salem.


THE PROCTOR FAMILY.

We have sketched the life of one family out of many, and we will leave
the rest for such of our readers as may choose to learn more. Some of
the statements in the book before us disclose a whole family history in
a few words; as the following in relation to John Proctor and his wife:

"The bitterness of the prosecutors against Proctor was so vehement that
they not only arrested, and tried to destroy, his wife and all his
family above the age of infancy, in Salem, but all her relatives in
Lynn, many of whom were thrown into prison. The helpless children were
left destitute, and the house swept of its provisions by the sheriff.
Proctor's wife gave birth to a child about a fortnight after his
execution. This indicates to what alone she owed her life. John Proctor
had spoken so boldly against the proceedings, and all who had part in
them, that it was felt to be necessary to put him out of the way." (Vol.
ii. p. 312.)

The Rev. Mr. Noyes, the worthy coadjutor of Mr. Parris, refused to pray
with Mr. Proctor before his death, unless he would confess; and the more
danger there seemed to be of a revival of pity, humility, and reason,
the more zealous waxed the wrath of the pious pastors against the Enemy
of Souls. When, on the fearful 22d of September, Mr. Noyes stood looking
at the execution, he exclaimed that it was a sad thing to see eight
firebrands of hell hanging there! The spectacle was never seen again on
Witches' Hill.


THE JACOBS FAMILY.

The Jacobs family was signalized by the confession of one of its
members--Margaret, one of the "afflicted" girls. She brought her
grandfather to the gallows, and suffered as much as a weak, ignorant,
impressionable person under evil influences could suffer from doubt
and remorse. But she married well seven years afterward--still feeling
enough in regard to the past to refuse to be married by Mr. Noyes. She
deserved such peace of mind as she obtained, for she retracted the
confession of witchcraft which she had made, and went to prison. It was
too late then to save her victims, Mr. Burroughs and her grandfather,
but she obtained their full and free forgiveness. At that time this was
the condition of the family:

"No account has come to us of the deportment of George Jacobs, Sr., at
his execution. As he was remarkable in life for the firmness of his
mind, so he probably was in death. He had made his will before the
delusion arose. It is dated January 29, 1692, and shows that he, like
Proctor, had a considerable estate.... In his infirm old age he had been
condemned to die for a crime of which he knew himself innocent, and
which there is some reason to believe he did not think any one capable
of committing. He regarded the whole thing as a wicked conspiracy
and absurd fabrication. He had to end his long life upon a scaffold
in a week from that day. His house was desolated, and his property
sequestered. His only son, charged with the same crime, had eluded the
sheriff--leaving his family, in the hurry of his flight, unprovided
for--and was an exile in foreign lands. The crazy wife of that son was
in prison and in chains, waiting trial on the same charge; her little
children, including an unweaned infant, left in a deserted and
destitute condition in the woods. The older children were scattered he
knew not where, while one of them had completed the bitterness of his
lot by becoming a confessor, upon being arrested with her mother as a
witch. This granddaughter, Margaret, overwhelmed with fright and horror,
bewildered by the statements of the accusers, and controlled probably by
the arguments and arbitrary methods of address employed by her minister,
Mr. Noyes--whose peculiar function in those proceedings seems to have
been to drive persons accused to make confession--had been betrayed into
that position, and became a confessor and accuser of others." (Vol. ii.
p. 312.)


GILES AND MARTHA COREY.

The life and death of a prominent citizen, Giles Corey, should not be
altogether passed over in a survey of such a community and such a time.
He had land, and was called "Goodman Corey;" but he was unpopular from
being too rough for even so young a state of society. He was once tried
for the death of a man whom he had used roughly, but he was only fined.
He had strifes and lawsuits with his neighbors; but he won three wives,
and there was due affection between him and his children. He was eighty
years old when the Witch Delusion broke out, and was living alone with
his wife Martha--a devout woman who spent much of her time on her
knees, praying against the snares of Satan, that is, the delusion
about witchcraft. She spoke freely of the tricks of the children, the
blindness of the magistrates, and the falling away of many from common
sense and the word of God; and while her husband attended every public
meeting, she stayed at home to pray. In his fanaticism he quarreled
with her, and she was at once marked out for a victim, and one of the
earliest. When visited by examiners, she smiled, and conversed with
entire composure, declaring that she was no witch, and that "she did
not think that there were any witches." By such sayings, and by the
expressions of vexation that fell from her husband, and the fanaticism
of two of her four sons-in-law, she was soon brought to extremity. But
her husband was presently under accusation too; and much amazed he
evidently was at his position. His wife was one of the eight "firebrands
of hell" whom Mr. Noyes saw swung off on the 22d of September. "Martha
Corey," said the record, "protesting her innocency, concluded her life
with an eminent prayer on the scaffold." Her husband had been supposed
certain to die in the same way; but he had chosen a different one. His
anguish at his rash folly at the outset of the delusion excited the
strongest desire to bear testimony on behalf of his wife and other
innocent persons, and to give an emphatic blessing to the two
sons-in-law who had been brave and faithful in his wife's cause. He
executed a deed by which he presented his excellent children with his
property in honor of their mother's memory; and, aware that if tried he
would be condemned and executed, and his property forfeited, he resolved
not to plead, and to submit to the consequence of standing mute. Old
as he was, he endured it. He stood mute, and the court had, as the
authorities believed, no alternative. He was pressed to death, as
devoted husbands and fathers were, here and there, in the Middle
Ages, when they chose to save their families from the consequences of
attainders by dying untried. We will not sicken our readers with the
details of the slow, cruel, and disgusting death. He bore it, only
praying for heavier weights to shorten his agony. Such a death and such
a testimony, and the execution of his wife two days later, weighed on
every heart in the community; and no revival of old charges against the
rough colonist had any effect in the presence of such an act as his
last. He was long believed to haunt the places where he lived and died;
and the attempt made by the ministers and one of their "afflicted"
agents to impress the church and society with a vision which announced
his damnation, was a complete failure. Cotton Mather showed that Ann
Putnam had received a divine communication, proving Giles Corey a
murderer; and Ann Putnam's father laid the facts before the judge; but
it was too late now for visions, and for insinuations to the judges, and
for clerical agitation to have any success. Brother Noyes hurried on a
church meeting while Giles Corey was actually lying under the weights,
to excommunicate him for witchcraft on the one hand, or suicide on the
other; and the ordinance was passed. But it was of no avail against the
rising tide of reason and sympathy. This was the last vision, and the
last attempt to establish one in Salem, if not in the Province. It
remained for Mr. Noyes, and the Mathers, and Mr. Parris, and every
clergyman concerned, to endure the popular hatred and their own
self-questioning for the rest of their days. The lay authorities were
stricken with remorse and humbled with grief; but their share of the
retribution was more endurable than that of the pastors who had proved
so wolfish toward their flocks.


DECLINE OF THE DELUSION.

In the month of September, 1692, they believed themselves in the thick
of "the fight between the Devil and the Lamb." Cotton Mather was nimble
and triumphant on the Witches' Hill whenever there were "firebrands of
hell" swinging there; and they all hoped to do much good work for the
Lord yet, for they had lists of suspected persons in their pockets, who
must be brought into the courts month by month, and carted off to the
hill. One of the gayest and most complacent letters on the subject of
this "fight" in the correspondence of Cotton Mather is dated on the 20th
of September, 1692, within a month of the day when he was improving the
occasion at the foot of the gallows where the former pastor, Rev. George
Burroughs, and four others were hung. In the interval fifteen more
received sentence of death; Giles Corey had died his fearful death the
day before; and in two days after, Corey's widow and seven more were
hanged. Mather, Noyes, and Parris had no idea that these eight would be
the last. But so it was. Thus far, one only had escaped after being made
sure of in the courts. The married daughter of a clergyman had been
condemned, was reprieved by the Governor, and was at last discharged on
the ground of the insufficiency of the evidence. Henceforth, after that
fearful September day, no evidence was found sufficient. The accusers
had grown too audacious in their selection of victims; their clerical
patrons had become too openly determined to give no quarter. The Rev.
Francis Dane signed memorials to the Legislature and the Courts on
the 18th of October, against the prosecutions. He had reason to know
something about them, for we hear of nine at least of his children,
grandchildren, relatives, and servants who had been brought under
accusation. He pointed out the snare by which the public mind, as well
as the accused themselves, had been misled--the escape afforded to such
as would confess. When one spoke out, others followed. When a reasonable
explanation was afforded, ordinary people were only too thankful to
seize upon it. Though the prisons were filled, and the courts occupied
over and over again, there were no more horrors; the accused were all
acquitted; and in the following May, Sir William Phipps discharged all
the prisoners by proclamation. "Such a jail-delivery has never been
known in New England," is the testimony handed down. The Governor was
aware that the clergy, magistrates, and judges, hitherto active, were
full of wrath at his course but public opinion now demanded a reversal
of the administration of the last fearful year.


THE PHYSIO-PSYCHOLOGICAL CAUSES OF THE TROUBLE.

As to the striking feature of the case--the confessions of so large a
proportion of the accused--Mr. Upham manifests the perplexity which we
encounter in almost all narrators of similar scenes. In all countries
and times in which trials for witchcraft have taken place, we find the
historians dealing anxiously with the question--how it could happen that
so many persons declared themselves guilty of an impossible offense,
when the confession must seal their doom? The solution most commonly
offered is one that may apply to a case here and there, but certainly
can not be accepted as disposing of any large number. It is assumed that
the victim preferred being killed at once to living on under suspicion,
insult, and ill-will, under the imputation of having dealt with
the Devil. Probable as this may be in the case of a stout-hearted,
reasoning, forecasting person possessed of nerve to carry out a policy
of suicide, it can never be believed of any considerable proportion of
the ordinary run of old men and women charged with sorcery. The love of
life and the horror of a cruel death at the hands of the mob or of the
hangman are too strong to admit of a deliberate sacrifice so bold, on
the part of terrified and distracted old people like the vast majority
of the accused; while the few of a higher order, clearer in mind and
stronger in nerve, would not be likely to effect their escape from an
unhappy life by a lie of the utmost conceivable gravity. If, in the
Salem case, life was saved by confession toward the last, it was for a
special reason; and it seems to be a singular instance of such a mode of
escape. Some other mode of explanation is needed; and the observations
of modern inquiry supply it. There can be no doubt now that the
sufferers under nervous disturbances, the subjects of abnormal
condition, found themselves in possession of strange faculties, and
thought themselves able to do new and wonderful things. When urged to
explain how it was, they could only suppose, as so many of the Salem
victims did, that it was by "some evil spirit;" and except where
there was such an intervening agency as Mr. Parris' "circle," the
only supposition was that the intercourse between the Evil Spirit and
themselves was direct. It is impossible even now to witness the curious
phenomena of somnambulism and catalepsy without a keen sense of how
natural and even inevitable it was for similar subjects of the Middle
Ages and in Puritan times to believe themselves ensnared by Satan, and
actually endowed with his gifts, and to confess their calamity, as the
only relief to their scared and miserable minds. This explanation seems
not to have occurred to Mr. Upham; and, for want of it, he falls into
great amazement at the elaborate artifice with which the sufferers
invented their confessions, and adapted them to the state of mind of the
authorities and the public. With the right key in his hand, he would
have seen only what was simple and natural where he now bids us marvel
at the pitch of artfulness and skill attained by poor wretches scared
out of their natural wits.

The spectacle of the ruin that was left is very melancholy. Orphan
children were dispersed; homes were shut up, and properties lost; and
what the temper was in which these transactions left the churches and
the village, and the society of the towns, the pastors and the flocks,
the Lord's table, the social gathering, the justice hall, the market,
and every place where men were wont to meet, we can conceive. It was
evidently long before anything like a reasonable and genial temper
returned to society in and about Salem. The acknowledgments of error
made long after were half-hearted, and so were the expressions of
grief and pity in regard to the intolerable woes of the victims. It is
scarcely intelligible how the admissions on behalf of the wronged should
have been so reluctant, and the sympathy with the devoted love of their
nearest and dearest so cold. We must cite what Mr. Upham says in honor
of these last, for such solace is needed:

"While, in the course of our story, we have witnessed some shocking
instances of the violation of the most sacred affections and obligations
of life, in husbands and wives, parents and children, testifying against
each other, and exerting themselves for mutual destruction, we must not
overlook the many instances in which filial, parental, and fraternal
fidelity and love have shone conspicuously. It was dangerous to befriend
an accused person. Proctor stood by his wife to protect her, and it cost
him his life. Children protested against the treatment of their parents,
and they were all thrown into prison. Daniel Andrew, a citizen of high
standing, who had been deputy to the General Court, asserted, in the
boldest language, his belief of Rebecca Nurse's innocence; and he had to
fly the country to save his life. Many devoted sons and daughters clung
to their parents, visited them in prison in defiance of a blood-thirsty
mob; kept by their side on the way to execution; expressed their
love, sympathy, and reverence to the last; and, by brave and perilous
enterprise, got possession of their remains, and bore them back under
the cover of midnight to their own thresholds, and to graves kept
consecrated by their prayers and tears. One noble young man is said to
have effected his mother's escape from the jail, and secreted her in
the woods until after the delusion had passed away, provided food and
clothing for her, erected a wigwam for her shelter, and surrounded her
with every comfort her situation would admit of. The poor creature must,
however, have endured a great amount of suffering; for one of her larger
limbs was fractured in the all but desperate attempt to rescue her from
the prison walls." (Vol. ii. p. 348.)

The act of reversal of attainder, passed early in the next century,
tells us that "some of the principal accusers and witnesses in those
dark and severe prosecutions have since discovered themselves to be
persons of profligate and vicious conversation;" and on no other
authority we are assured that, "not without spot before, they became
afterward abandoned to open vice." This was doubtless true of some; but
of many it was not; and of this we shall have a word to say presently.


THE LAST OF PARRIS.

Mr. Parris' parsonage soon went to ruin, as did some of the dwellings
of the "afflicted" children, who learned and practiced certain things
in his house which he afterward pronounced to be arts of Satan, and
declared to have been pursued without his knowledge and with the
cognizance of only his servants (John and Tituba, the Indian and the
negress). Barn, and well, and garden disappeared in a sorry tract of
rough ground, and the dwelling became a mere handful of broken bricks.
The narrative of the pastor's struggles and devices to retain his pulpit
is very interesting; but they are not related to our object here; and
all we need say is, that three sons and sons-in-law of Mrs. Nurse
measured their strength against his, and, without having said an
intemperate or superfluous word, or swerved from the strictest rules of
congregational action, sent him out of the parish. He finally opined
that "evil angels" had been permitted to tempt him and his coadjutors on
either hand; he admitted that some mistakes had been made; and, said
he, "I do humbly own this day, before the Lord and his people, that God
has been righteously spitting in my face; and I desire to lie low under
all this reproach," etc.; but the remonstrants could not again sit
under his ministry, and his brethren in the Province did not pretend to
exculpate him altogether. He buried his wife--against whom no record
remains--and departed with his children, the eldest of whom, the
playfellow of the "afflicted" children, he had sent away before she
had taken harm in the "circle." He drifted from one small outlying
congregation to another, neglected and poor, restless and untamed,
though mortified, till he died in 1720. Mr. Noyes died somewhat earlier.
He is believed not to have undergone much change, as to either his views
or his temper. He was a kind-hearted and amiable man when nothing came
in the way; but he could hold no terms with Satan; and in this he
insisted to the last that he was right.

Cotton Mather was the survivor of the other two. He died in 1728; and he
never was happy again after that last batch of executions. He trusted to
his merits, and the genius he exhibited under that onslaught of Satan,
to raise him to the highest post of clerical power in the Province, and
to make him--what he desired above all else--President of Harvard
University. Mr. Upham presents us with a remarkable meditation written
by the unhappy man, so simple and ingenious that it is scarcely possible
to read it gravely; but the reader is not the less sensible of his
misery. The argument is a sort of remonstrance with God on the
recompense his services have met with. He has been appointed to serve
the world, and the world does not regard him; the negroes, and (who
could believe it?) the negroes are named Cotton Mather in contempt of
him; the wise and the unwise despise him; in every company he is avoided
and left alone; the female sex, and they speak basely of him; his
relatives, and they are such monsters that he may truly say, "I am a
brother to dragons;" the Government, and it heaps indignities upon him;
the University, and if he were a blockhead, it could not treat him worse
than it does. He is to serve all whom he can aid, and nobody ever does
anything for him; he is to serve all to whom he can be a helpful and
happy minister, and yet he is the most afflicted minister in the
country; and many consider his afflictions to be so many miscarriages,
and his sufferings in proportion to his sins. There was no popularity or
power for him from the hour when he stood to see his brother Burroughs
put to death on the Hill. He seems never to have got over his surprise
at his own failures; but he sank into deeper mortification and a more
childish peevishness to the end.


"ONE OF THE AFFLICTED"--HER CONFESSION.

Of only one of the class of express accusers--of the "afflicted"--will
we speak; but not because she was the only one reclaimed. One bewildered
child we have described as remorseful, and brave in her remorse; and
others married as they would hardly have done if they had been among the
"profligate." Ann Putnam's case remains the most prominent, and the most
pathetic. She was twelve years old when the "circle" at Mr. Parris'
was formed. She had no check from her parents, but much countenance
and encouragement from her morbidly-disposed mother. She has the bad
distinction of having been the last of the witnesses to declare a
"vision" against a suspected person; but, on the other hand, she has the
honor, such as it is, of having striven to humble herself before the
memory of her victims. When she was nineteen her father died, and her
mother followed within a fortnight, leaving the poor girl, in bad health
and with scanty means, to take care of a family of children so large
that there were eight, if not more, dependent on her. No doubt she was
aided, and she did what she could; but she died worn out at the age of
thirty-six. Ten years before that date she made her peace with the
Church and society by offering a public confession in the meeting-house.
In order to show what it was that the accusers did admit, we must make
room for Ann Putnam's confession:

"'I desire to be humbled before God for that sad and humbling providence
that befell my father's family in the year about '92; that I, then
being in my childhood, should, by such a providence of God, be made the
instrument for the accusing of several persons of a grievous crime,
whereby their lives were taken away from them, whom now I have just
grounds and good reason to believe they were innocent persons; and that
it was a great delusion of Satan that deceived me in that sad time,
whereby I justly fear that I have been instrumental with others, though
ignorantly and unwittingly, to bring upon myself and this land the guilt
of innocent blood; though what was said or done by me against any person
I can truly and uprightly say, before God and man, I did it not out of
any anger, malice, or ill-will to any person, for I had no such thing
against one of them; but what I did was ignorantly, being deluded by
Satan. And particularly, as I was a chief instrument of accusing
Goodwife Nurse and her two sisters, I desire to lie in the dust, and
to be humbled for it, in that I was a cause, with others, of so sad a
calamity to them and their families; for which cause I desire to lie in
the dust, and earnestly beg forgiveness of God, and from all those unto
whom I have given just cause of sorrow and offense, whose relations were
taken away or accused. (Signed) Ann Putnam.'

"This confession was read before the congregation, together with her
relation, August 25, 1706; and she acknowledged it.

  "J. GREEN, _Pastor_." (Vol. ii. p. 510.)


THE TRANSITION.

The most agreeable picture ever afforded by this remarkable community is
that which our eyes rest on at the close of the story. One of the church
members had refused to help to send Mr. Parris away, on the ground that
the village had had four pastors, and had gone through worse strifes
with every one; but he saw a change of scene on the advent of the fifth.
The Rev. Joseph Green was precisely the man for the place and occasion.
He was young--only two-and-twenty--and full of hope and cheerfulness,
while sobered by the trials of the time. He had a wife and infants, and
some private property, so that he could at once plant down a happy
home among his people, without any injurious dependence on them. While
exemplary in clerical duty, he encouraged an opposite tone of mind to
that which had prevailed--put all the devils out of sight, promoted
pigeon-shooting and fishing, and headed the young men in looking after
hostile Indians. Instead of being jealous at the uprising of new
churches, he went to lay the foundations, and invited the new brethren
to his home. He promoted the claims of the sufferers impoverished by the
recent social convulsion; he desired to bury not only delusions, but
ill offices in silence; and by his hospitality he infused a cheerful
social spirit into his stricken people. The very business of "seating"
the congregation was so managed under his ministry as that members
of the sinning and suffering families--members not in too direct
an antagonism--were brought together for prayer, singing, and
Sabbath-greeting, forgiving and forgetting as far as possible. Thus did
this excellent pastor create a new scene of peace and good-will, which
grew brighter for eighteen years, when he died at the age of forty. At
the earliest moment that was prudent, he induced his church to cancel
the excommunication of Rebecca Nurse and Giles Corey. It was ten years
more before the hard and haughty mother church in Salem would do its
part; but Mr. Green had the satisfaction of seeing that record also
cleansed of its foul stains three years before his death. Judge Sewall
had before made his penitential acknowledgment of proud error in full
assembly, and had resumed his seat on the bench amid the forgiveness and
respect of society; Chief Justice Stoughton had retired from the courts
in obstinate rage at his conflicts with Satan having been cut short;
the physicians hoped they should have no more patients "under the evil
hand," to make them look foolish and feel helpless; and the Tragedy was
over. There were doubtless secret tears and groans, horrors of shame and
remorse by night and by day, and indignant removal of the bones of the
murdered from outcast graves; and abstraction of painful pages from
books of record, and much stifling of any conversation which could grow
into tradition. The Tragedy was, no doubt, the central interest of
society, families, and individuals throughout the Province for the life
of one generation. Then, as silence had been kept in the homes as well
as at church and market, the next generation entered upon life almost
unconscious of the ghastly distinction which would attach in history to
Massachusetts in general, and Salem in particular, as the scene of the
Delusion and the Tragedy which showed the New World to be in essentials
no wiser than the Old.

How effectually the story of that year 1692 was buried in silence is
shown by a remark of Mr. Upham's--that it has been too common for the
Witch Tragedy to be made a jest of, or at least to be spoken of with
levity. We can have no doubt that his labors have put an end to this.
It is inconceivable that there can ever again be a joke heard on the
subject of Witchcraft in Salem. But this remark of our author brings us
at once home to our own country, time, and experience. It suggests the
question whether the lesson afforded by this singular perfect piece of
history is more or less appropriate to our own day and generation.


THE FETISH THEORY THEN AND NOW.

We have already observed that at the date of these events, the only
possible explanation of the phenomena presented was the fetish solution
which had in all ages been recurred to as a matter of course. In
heathen times it was god, goddess, or nymph who gave knowledge, or
power, or gifts of healing, or of prophecy, to men. In Christian times
it was angel, or devil, or spirit of the dead; and this conception was
in full force over all Christendom when the Puritan emigrants settled in
New England. The celebrated sermon of the Rev. Mr. Lawson, in the work
before us, discloses the elaborate doctrine held by the class of men who
were supposed to know best in regard to the powers given by Satan to his
agents, and the evils with which he afflicted his victims; and there
was not only no reason why the pastor's hearers should question his
interpretations, but no possibility that they should supply any of
a different kind. The accused themselves, while unable to admit or
conceive that they were themselves inspired by Satan, could propose no
explanation but that the acts were done by "some bad spirit." And such
has been the fetish tendency to this hour, through all the advance
that has been made in science, and in the arts of observation and
of reasoning. The fetish tendency--that of ascribing one's own
consciousness to external objects, as when the dog takes a watch to be
alive because it ticks, and when the savage thinks his god is angry
because it thunders, and when the Puritan catechumen cries out in
hysteria that Satan has set a witch to strangle her--that constant
tendency to explain everything by the facts, the feelings, and the
experience of the individual's own nature, is no nearer dying out
now than at the time of the Salem Tragedy; and hence, in part, the
seriousness and the instructiveness of this story to the present
generation. Ours is the generation which has seen the spread of
Spiritualism in Europe and America, a phenomenon which deprives us of
all right to treat the Salem Tragedy as a jest, or to adopt a tone of
superiority in compassion for the agents in that dismal drama. There are
hundreds, even several thousands, of lunatics in the asylums of the
United States, and not a few in our own country, who have been lodged
there by the pursuit of intercourse with spirits; in other words, by
ascribing to living but invisible external agents movements of their
own minds. Mr. Parris remarked, in 1692, that of old, witches were only
ignorant old women; whereas, in his day, they had come to be persons
of knowledge, holiness, and devotion who had been drawn into that
damnation; and in our day, we hear remarks on the superior refinement
of spirit-intercourses, in comparison with the witch doings at Salem;
but the cases are all essentially the same. In all, some peculiar and
inexplicable appearances occur, and are, as a matter of course, when
their reality can not be denied, ascribed to spiritual agency. We may
believe that we could never act as the citizens of Salem acted in their
superstition and their fear; and this may be true; but the course of
speculation is, in "spiritual circles," very much the same as in Mr.
Parris' parlor.

And how much less excuse there is for our generation than for his!
We are very far yet from being able to explain the well-known and
indisputable facts which occur from time to time, in all countries where
men abide and can give an account of themselves; such facts as the
phenomena of natural somnambulism, of double consciousness, of suspended
sensation while consciousness is awake, and the converse--of a wide
range of intellectual and instinctive operations bearing the character
of marvels to such as can not wait for the solution. We are still far
from being able to explain such mysteries, in the only true sense of the
word _explaining_--that is, being able to refer the facts to the natural
cause to which they belong; but we have an incalculable advantage over
the people of former centuries in knowing that for all proved facts
there is a natural cause; that every cause to which proved facts within
our cognizance are related is destined to become known to us; and that,
in the present case, we have learned in what direction to search for it,
and have set out on the quest. None of us can offer even the remotest
conjecture as to what the law of the common action of what we call mind
and body may be. If we could, the discovery would have been already
made. But, instead of necessarily assuming, as the Salem people did,
that what they witnessed was the operation of spiritual upon human
beings, we have, as our field of observation and study, a region
undreamed of by them--the brain as an organized part of the human frame,
and the nervous system, implicating more facts, more secrets, and more
marvels than our forefathers attributed to the whole body.


THE VIEWS OF MODERN INVESTIGATORS.

It is very striking to hear the modern lectures on physiological
subjects delivered in every capital in Europe, and to compare the calm
and easy manner in which the most astonishing and the most infernal
phenomena are described and discussed, with the horror and dismay that
the same facts would have created if disclosed by divines in churches
three centuries ago. Dr. Maudsley, in his recent work on "The
Physiology and Pathology of Mind," and other physicians occupied in his
line of practice, lead us through the lunatic asylums of every country,
pointing out as ordinary or extraordinary incidents the same
"afflictions" of children and other morbid persons which we read of, one
after another, in the Salem story. It is a matter of course with such
practitioners and authors to anticipate such phenomena when they have
detected the morbid conditions which generate them. Mr. Upham himself
is evidently very far indeed from understanding or suspecting how much
light is thrown on the darkest part of his subject by physiological
researches carried on to the hour when he laid down his pen. His view
is confined almost exclusively to the theory of fraud and falsehood, as
affording the true key. It is not probable that anybody disputes or
doubts the existence of guilt and folly in many or all of the agents
concerned. There was an antecedent probability of both in regard to
Mr. Parris' slaves, and to such of the young children as they most
influenced; and that kind of infection is apt to spread. Moreover,
experience shows us that the special excitement of that nervous
condition induces moral vagaries at least as powerfully as mental
delusions. In the state of temper existing among the inhabitants of the
Village when the mischievous club of girls was formed at the pastor's
house, it was inevitable that, if magic was entered upon at all, it
would be malignant magic. Whatever Mr. Upham has said in illustration of
that aspect of the case his readers will readily agree to. But there is
a good deal more, even of the imperfect notices that remain after the
abstraction and destruction of the records in the shame and anguish that
ensued, which we, in our new dawn of science, can perceive to be an
affair of the bodily organization. We are, therefore, obliged to him for
rescuing this tremendous chapter of history from oblivion, and for the
security in which he has placed the materials of evidence. In another
generation the science of the human frame may have advanced far enough
to elucidate some of the Salem mysteries, together with some obscure
facts in all countries, which can not be denied, while as yet they can
not be understood. When that time comes, a fearful weight of imputation
will be removed from the name and fame of many agents and sufferers who
have been the subjects of strange maladies and strange faculties, in all
times and countries. As we are now taught the new discoveries of the
several nerve-centers, and the powers which are appropriated to them;
and when we observe what a severance may exist between the so-called
organ of any sense or faculty and the operation of the sense or faculty;
and how infallibly ideas and emotion may be generated, and even beliefs
created in minds sane and insane, by certain manipulations of the nerves
and brain, we see how innocently this phenomenon may be presented in
natural somnambulism. Sleepwalkers have been known in many countries,
and treated of in medical records by their physicians, who could not
only walk, and perform all ordinary acts in the dark as well as in the
light, but who went on writing or reading without interruption though an
opaque substance--a book or a slate--was interposed, and would dot the
_i's_ and cross the _t's_ with unconscious correctness without any use
of their eyes. There is a wide field of inquiry open in this direction,
now that the study of the nervous system has been begun, however minute
is the advance as yet.


IMPORTANCE OF THE SUBJECT.

It is needless to dwell on the objection made to the rising hopefulness
in regard to the study of Man, and the mysteries of his nature. Between
the multitude who have still no notion of any alternative supposition to
that of possession or inspiration by spirits, or, at least, intercourse
with such beings, and others who fear "Materialism" if too close an
attention is paid to the interaction of the mind and the nerves, and
those who always shrink from new notions in matters so interesting, and
those who fear that religion may be implicated in any slight shown to
angel or devil, and those who will not see or hear any evidence whatever
which lies in a direction opposite to their prejudices, we are not
likely to get on too fast. But neither can the injury lapse under
neglect. The spectacle presented now is of the same three sorts of
people that appear in all satires, in all literatures, since the pursuit
of truth in any mode or direction became a recognized object anywhere
and under any conditions. Leaving out of view the multitude who are
irrelevant to the case, from having no knowledge, and being therefore
incapable of an opinion, there is the large company of the superficial
and light-minded, who are always injuring the honor and beauty of truth
by the levity, the impertinence, the absurdity of the enthusiasm they
pretend, and the nonsense they talk about "some new thing." No period of
society has been more familiar with that class and its mischief-making
than our own. There is the other large class of the cotemporaries of any
discovery or special advance, who, when they can absent themselves from
the scene no longer, look and listen, and bend all their efforts to
hold their ground of life-long opinion, usually succeeding so far as to
escape any direct admission that more is known than when they were born.
These are no ultimate hindrance. When Harvey died, no physician in
Europe above the age of forty believed in the circulation of the blood;
but the truth was perfectly safe; and so it will be with the case of the
psychological relations of the nervous system when the present course of
investigation has sustained a clearer verification and further advance.
On this point we have the sayings of two truth-seekers, wise in quality
of intellect, impartial and dispassionate in temper, and fearless in the
pursuit of their aims. The late Prince Consort is vividly remembered for
the characteristic saying which spread rapidly over the country, that he
could not understand the conduct of the medical profession in England
in leaving the phenomena of mesmerism to the observation of unqualified
persons, instead of undertaking an inquiry which was certainly their
proper business, in proportion as they professed to pursue _science_.
The other authority we refer to is the late Mr. Hallam. A letter of his
lies before us from which we quote a passage, familiar in its substance,
doubtless, to his personal friends, to whom he always avowed the view
which it presents, and well worthy of note to such readers as may not
be aware of the observation and thought he devoted to the phenomena of
mesmerism during the last quarter-century of his long life. "It appears
to me probable that the various phenomena of mesmerism, together with
others, independent of mesmerism properly so called, which have lately
[the date is 1844] been brought to light, are fragments of some general
law of nature which we are not yet able to deduce from them, merely
because they are destitute of visible connection--the links being
hitherto wanting which are to display the entire harmony of effects
proceeding from a single cause."

[Persons curious to know what has been developed in this class of
studies may find the same in a work published at this office, entitled
THE LIBRARY OF MESMERISM AND PSYCHOLOGY--comprising the Philosophy of
Mesmerism, Clairvoyance, and Mental Electricity; Fascination, or the
Power of Charming; The Macrocosm, or the World of Sense; Electrical
Psychology, or the Doctrine of Impressions; The Science of the Soul,
treated Physiologically and Philosophically. Complete in one illustrated
volume. Price, $4.]

What room is there not for hopefulness when we compare such an
observation as this with Mr. Parris' dogmatical exposition of Satan's
dealings with men! or when we contrast the calm and cheerful tone of the
philosopher with the stubborn wrath of Chief Justice Stoughton, and with
the penitential laments of Judge Sewall! We might contrast it also with
the wild exultation of those of the Spiritualists of our own day who can
form no conception of the modesty and patience requisite for the sincere
search for truth, and who, once finding themselves surrounded by facts
and appearances new and strange, assume that they have discovered a
bridge over the bottomless "gulf beyond which lies the spirit-land," and
wander henceforth in a fools' paradise, despising and pitying all who
are less rash, ignorant, and presumptuous than themselves. It is this
company of fanatics--the first of the three classes we spoke of--which
is partly answerable for the backwardness of the second; but the blame
does not rest exclusively in one quarter. There is an indolence in the
medical class which is the commonest reproach against them in every age
of scientific activity, and which has recently been heroically avowed
and denounced in a public address by no less a member of the profession
than Sir Thomas Watson.[1] There is a conservative reluctance to change
of view or of procedure. There is also a lack of moral courage, by no
means surprising in an order of men whose lives are spent in charming
away troubles, and easing pains and cares, and "making things
pleasant"--by no means surprising, we admit, but exceedingly unfavorable
to the acknowledgment of phenomena that are strange and facts that are
unintelligible.

      [1] Address on the Present State of Therapeutics. Delivered at
      the opening meeting of the Clinical Society of London, January
      10, 1868. By Sir Thomas Watson, Bart., M.D.

This brings us to the third class--the very small number of persons who
are, in the matter of human progress, the salt of the earth; the few who
can endure to see without understanding, to hear without immediately
believing or disbelieving, to learn what they can, without any
consideration of what figure they themselves shall make in the
transaction; and even to be unable to reconcile the new phenomena with
their own prior experience or conceptions. There is no need to describe
how rare this class must necessarily be, for every one who has eyes sees
how near the passions and the prejudices of the human being lie to each
other. These are the few who unite the two great virtues of earnestly
studying the facts, and keeping their temper, composure and cheerfulness
through whatever perplexity their inquiry may involve. It is remarkable
that while the world is echoing all round and incessantly with the
praise of the life of the man spent in following truth wherever it may
lead, the world is always resounding also with the angry passions of men
who resent all opinions which are not their own, and denounce with fury
or with malice any countenance given to mere proposals to inquire in
certain directions which they think proper to reprobate. Not only was it
horrible blasphemy in Galileo to think as he did of the motion of the
earth, but in his friends to look through his glass at the stars.

This Salem story is indeed shocking in every view--to our pride as
rational beings, to our sympathy as human beings, to our faith as
Christians, to our complacency as children of the Reformation. It is so
shocking that some of us may regret that the details have been revived
with such an abundance of evidence. But this is no matter of regret, but
rather of congratulation, if we have not outgrown the need of admonition
from the past. How does that consideration stand?

At the end of nearly three centuries we find ourselves relieved of a
heavy burden of fear and care about the perpetual and unbounded malice
of Satan and his agents. Witchcraft has ceased to be one of the gravest
curses of the human lot. We have parted with one after another of the
fetish or conjectural persuasions about our relations with the world of
spirit or mind, regarded as in direct opposition to the world of matter.
By a succession of discoveries we have been led to an essentially
different view of life and thought from any dreamed of before the new
birth of science; and at this day, and in our own metropolis, we have
Sir Henry Holland telling us how certain treatment of this or that
department of the nervous system will generate this or that state of
belief and experience, as well as sensation. We have Dr. Carpenter
disclosing facts of incalculable significance about brain-action without
consciousness, and other vital mysteries. We have Dr. Maudsley showing,
in the cells of the lunatic asylum, not only the very realm of Satan, as
our fathers would have thought, but the discovery that it is not Satan,
after all, that makes the havoc, but our own ignorance which has seduced
us into a blasphemous superstition, instead of inciting us to the study
of ourselves. And these are not all our teachers. Amid the conflict
of phenomena of the human mind and body, we have arrived now at the
express controversy of Psychology against Physiology. Beyond the mere
statement of the fact we have scarcely advanced a step. The first can
not be, with any accuracy, called a science at all, and the other is in
little more than a rudimentary state; but it is no small gain to have
arrived at some conception of the nature of the problem set before us,
and at some liberty of hypothesis as to its conditions. In brief, and
in the plainest terms, while there is still a multitude deluding and
disporting itself with a false hypothesis about certain mysteries of the
human mind, and claiming to have explained the marvels of Spiritualism
by making an objective world of their own subjective experience, the
scientific physiologists [those especially who are true phrenologists]
are proceeding, by observation and experiment, to penetrate more and
more secrets of our intellectual and moral life.




THE PLANCHETTE MYSTERY.


WHAT PLANCHETTE IS AND DOES.

This little gyrating tripod is proving itself to be something more than
a nine days' wonder. It is finding its way into thousands of families in
all parts of the land. Lawyers, physicians, politicians, philosophers,
and even clergymen, have watched eagerly its strange antics, and
listened with rapt attention to its mystic oracles. Mrs. Jones demands
of it where Jones spends his evenings; the inquisitive of both sexes are
soliciting it to "tell their fortunes;" speculators are invoking its aid
in making sharp bargains, and it is said that even sagacious brokers in
Wall Street are often found listening to its vaticinations as to the
price of stocks on a given future day. To all kinds of inquiries answers
are given, intelligible at least, if not always true. A wonderful jumble
of mental and moral possibilities is this little piece of dead matter,
now giving utterance to childish drivel, now bandying jokes and
badinage, now stirring the conscience by unexceptionably Christian
admonitions, and now uttering the baldest infidelity or the most
shocking profanity; and often discoursing gravely on science,
philosophy, or theology. It is true that Planchette seldom assumes this
variety of theme and diction under the hands of the same individual,
but, in general, manifests a peculiar facility of adapting its discourse
to the character of its associates. Reader, with your sanction, we will
seek a little further acquaintance with this new wonder.

[Illustration: THE PLANCHETTE.]

The word "Planchette" is French, and simply signifies a _little board_.
It is usually made in the shape of a heart, about seven inches long and
six inches wide at the widest part, but we suppose that any other shape
and convenient size would answer as well. Under the two corners of the
widest end are fixed two little castors or pantograph wheels, admitting
of easy motion in all horizontal directions; and in a hole, pierced
through the narrow end, is fixed, upright, a lead pencil, which forms
the third foot of the tripod. If this little instrument be placed upon a
sheet of printing paper, and the fingers of one or more persons be laid
lightly upon it, after quietly waiting a short time for the connection
or _rapport_ to become established, the board, if conditions are
favorable, will begin to move, carrying the fingers with it. It will
move for about one person in every three or four; and sometimes it will
move with the hands of two or three persons in contact with it, when it
will not move for either one of the persons singly. At the first trial,
from a few seconds to twenty minutes may be required to establish the
motion; but at subsequent trials it will move almost immediately. The
first movements are usually indefinite or in circles but as soon as some
control of the motion is established, it will begin to write--at first,
perhaps, in mere monosyllables, "Yes," and "No," in answer to leading
questions, but afterward freely writing whole sentences, and even pages.

For me alone, the instrument will not move; for myself and wife it moves
slightly, but its writing is mostly in monosyllables. With my daughter's
hands upon it, it writes more freely, frequently giving, correctly, the
names of persons present whom she may not know, and also the names
of their friends, living or dead, with other and similar tests. Its
conversations with her are grave or gay, much according to the state
of her own mind at the time; and when frivolous questions are asked,
it almost always returns answers either frivolous or, I am sorry to
say it, a trifle wicked. For example, she on one occasion said to it:
"Planchette, where did you get your education?" To her horror, it
instantly wrote: "In h--l," without, however, being so fastidious as to
omit the letters of the word here left out. On another occasion, after
receiving from it responses to some trival questions, she said to
it: "Planchette, now write something of your own accord without our
prompting." But instead of writing words and sentences as was expected,
it immediately traced out the rude figure of a man, such as school
children sometimes make upon their slates. After finishing the
outlines--face, neck, arms, legs, etc., it swung around and brought
the point of the pencil to the proper position for the eye, which it
carefully marked in, and then proceeded to pencil out the hair. On
finishing this operation, it wrote under the figure the name of a young
man concerning whom my daughter's companions are in the habit of teasing
her.

My wife once said to it: "Planchette, write the name of the article I am
thinking of." She was thinking of a finger ring, on which her eye had
rested a moment before. The operator, of course, knew nothing of this,
and my wife expected either that the experiment would fail, or else that
the letters R-i-n-g would be traced. But instead of that, the instrument
moved, very slowly, and, as it were, deliberately, and traced an
apparently _exact circle_ on the paper, of about the size of the finger
ring she had in her mind. "Will you try that over again?" said she, when
a similar circle was traced, in a similar manner, but more promptly.
During this experiment, one of my wife's hands, in addition to my
daughter's, was resting lightly upon the board; but if the moving force
had been supplied by her, either consciously or unconsciously, the
motion would evidently have taken the direction of her thought, which
was that of writing the letters of the word, instead of a direction
unthought of.

While Planchette, in her intercourse with me, has failed to distinguish
herself either as a preacher or a philosopher, I regret to say that she
has not proved herself a much more successful prophet. While the recent
contest for the United States Senatorship from the State of New York was
pending, I said to my little oracular friend: "Planchette, will you give
me a test?" "Yes." "Do you know who will be the next U. S. Senator from
this State?" "Yes." "Please write the name of the person who will be
chosen." "_Mr. Sutton_," was written. Said I, "I have not the pleasure
of knowing that gentleman; please tell me where he resides." _Ans._ "In
Washington."

I do not relate this to disturb the happy dreams of the Hon. Reuben E.
Fenton by suggesting any dire contingencies that may yet happen to mar
the prospect before him. In justice to my little friend, however, I must
not omit to state that in respect to questions as to the kind of weather
we shall have on the morrow? will such person go, or such a one come? or
shall I see, or do this, that, or the other thing? its responses have
been generally correct.

To rush to a conclusion respecting the _rationale_ of so mysterious a
phenomenon, under the sole guidance of an experience which has been so
limited as my own, would betray an amount of egoism and heedlessness
with which I am unwilling to be chargeable; and my readers will now be
introduced to some experiences of others.

A friend of mine, Mr. C., residing in Jersey City, with whom I have
almost daily intercourse, and whose testimony is entirely trustworthy,
relates the following:

Some five or six months ago he purchased a Planchette, brought it home,
and placed it in the hands of Mrs. B., a widow, who was then visiting
his family. Mrs. B. had never tried or witnessed any experiments with
Planchette, and was incredulous as to her power to evoke any movements
from it. She, however, placed her hands upon it, as directed, and to her
surprise it soon began to move, and wrote for its first words: "Take
care!" "Of what must I take care?" she inquired. "Of your money."
"Where?" "In Kentucky."

My friend states that Mrs. B.'s husband had died in Albany about two
years previous, bequeathing to her ten thousand dollars, which sum she
had loaned to a gentleman in Louisville, Ky., to invest in the drug
business, on condition that she and he were to share the profits; and up
to this time the thought had not occurred to her that her money was not
perfectly safe. At this point she inquired: "Who is this that is giving
this caution?" "B---- W----." (The name of a friend of hers who had died
at Cairo, Ill., some six years before.) Mrs. B. "Why! is my money in
jeopardy?" Planchette. "Yes, and needs prompt attention." My friend C.
here asked: "Ought she to go to Kentucky and attend to the matter?"
"Yes."

So strange and unexpected was this whole communication, and so
independent of the suggestions of her own mind, that she was not a
little impressed by it, and thought it would at least be safe for her
to make a journey to Louisville and ascertain if the facts were as
represented. But she had at the time no ready money to pay her traveling
expenses, and not knowing how she could get the money, she asked: "When
shall I be able to go?" "In two weeks from to-day," was the reply.

She thought over the matter, and the next day applied to a friend of
hers, a Mr. W., in Nassau Street, who promised to lend her the money by
the next Tuesday or Wednesday. (It was on Thursday that the interview
with Planchette occurred.) She came home and remarked to my friend:
"Well, Planchette has told one lie, anyhow; it said I would start for
Louisville _two weeks_ from that day. Mr. W. is going to lend me the
money, and I shall start by _next_ Thursday, only _one_ week from that
time."

But on the next Tuesday morning she received a note from Mr. W.
expressing regret that circumstances had occurred which would render it
impossible for him to let her have the money. She immediately sought,
and soon found, another person by whom she was promised the money still
in time to enable her to start a couple of days before the expiration of
the two weeks--thus still, as she supposed, enabling her to prove
Planchette to be wrong in at least that particular. But from
circumstances unnecessary to detail, the money did not come until
Wednesday, the day before the expiration of the two weeks. She then
prepared herself to start the next _morning_; but through a blunder
of the expressman in carrying her trunk to the wrong depot, she was
detained till the five o'clock P.M. train, when she started, just two
weeks, _to the hour_, from the time the prediction was given.

Arriving in Louisville, she learned that her friend had become involved
in consequence of having made a number of bad sales for large amounts,
and had actually gone into bankruptcy--reserving, however, for the
security of her debt, a number of lots of ground, which his creditors
were trying to get hold of. She thus arrived not a moment too soon to
save herself, which she will probably do, in good part, at least, if not
wholly--though the affair is still unsettled.

Since this article was commenced, the following fact has been furnished
me from a reliable source. It is offered not only for the test which it
involves, but also to illustrate the remarkable faculty which Planchette
sometimes manifests, of calling things by their right names. A lady
well known to the community, but whose name I have not permission to
disclose, recently received from Planchette, writing under her own
hands, a communication so remarkable that she was induced to ask for the
name of the intelligence that wrote it. In answer to her request, the
name of the late Col. Baker, who gallantly fell at Ball's Bluff, was
given, in a perfect _fac-simile_ of his handwriting. She said to him:
"For a further test, will you be kind enough to tell me where I last saw
you?" She expected him to mention the place and occasion of their last
interview when she had invited him to her house to tea; but Planchette
wrote: "_In the hall of thieves_." "In the hall of thieves," said the
lady; "what on earth can be the meaning of that? O! I remember that
after he was killed, his body was brought on here and laid in the City
Hall, and there I saw him."


THE PRESS ON PLANCHETTE.

In Planchette, public journalists and pamphleteers seem to have caught
the "What is it?" in a new shape, and great has been the expenditure of
printer's ink in the way of narratives, queries, and speculations upon
the subject. There are now lying before me the following publications
and articles, in which the Planchette phenomena are noticed and
discussed,--from which we propose to cull and condense such statements
of fact as appear to possess most intrinsic interest, and promise most
aid in the solution of the mysteries. Afterward we shall discuss the
different theories of these writers, and also some other theories that
have been propounded.

"PLANCHETTE'S DIARY," edited by Kate Field, is an entertaining pamphlet,
consisting of details in the author's experience, with little or no
speculation as to the origin or laws of the phenomena. The author
herself was the principal medium of the communications, but she
occasionally introduces experiences of others. The pamphlet serves to
put one on familiar and companionable terms with the invisible source
of intelligence, whatever that may be, illustrating the leading
peculiarities of the phenomena, giving some tests of an outside
directing influence more or less striking, and candidly recording the
failures of test answers which were mixed up with the successes. We
extract two or three specimens:

  "May 26th--Evening. Our trio was reinforced by Mr. B., a clever
  young lawyer, who regarded Planchette with no favorable eye--had no
  faith whatever in 'Spiritualism,' and maintained that for his part
  he thought it quite as sensible, if not more so, to attribute
  unknown phenomena to white rabbits as to spirits.... Planchette
  addressed herself to Mr. B. thus:

  'You do not think that I am a spirit. I tell you that I am. If I am
  not an intelligence, in the name of common sense what am I? If you
  fancy I am white rabbits, then all I have to say is, that white
  rabbits are a deal cleverer than they have the credit of being among
  natural historians.'

  Later, doubt was thrown upon the possibility of getting mental
  questions answered, and Planchette retorted:

  'Do you fancy for one moment that I don't know the workings of your
  brain? That is not the difficulty. It is the
  impossibility--almost--of making two diametrically opposed
  magnetisms unite.'

  After this rebuke, Mr. B. asked a mental question, and received the
  following answer:

  'I am impelled to say that if you will persevere in these
  investigations, you may be placed _en rapport_ with your wife, who
  would undoubtedly communicate with you. If you have any faith in the
  immortality of the soul, you can have no doubt of the possibility of
  spiritual influences being brought to bear upon mortals. It is no
  new thing. Ever since the world began, this power has been exerted
  in one way or another; and if you pretend to put any faith in the
  Bible, you surely must credit the possibility of establishing this
  subtile connection between man and so-called angels.'

  This communication was glibly written until within eleven words of
  the conclusion, when Planchette stopped, and I asked if she had
  finished.

  'No,' she replied.

  'Then why don't you go on?' I continued. '_I_ can write faster than
  this.'

  Planchette grew exceeding wroth at this, and dashed off an answer:

  'Because, my good gracious! you are not obliged to express yourself
  through another's brain.'

  I took it for granted that Planchette had shot very wide of the mark
  in the supposed response to Mr. B.'s mental query, and hence was not
  prepared to be told that it was satisfactory, in proof of which Mr.
  B. wrote beneath it:

  'Appropriate answer to my mental question, _Will my deceased wife
  communicate with me?_--I. A. B.'"

  "May 28th. At the breakfast-table Mr. G. expressed a great desire to
  see Planchette perform, and she was brought from her box. Miss W.
  was also present. After several communications, Miss W. asked a
  mental question, and Planchette immediately wrote:

  'Miss W., that is hardly possible in the present state of the money
  market; but later, I dare say you will accomplish what you desire to
  undertake.'

  _Miss W._ 'Planchette is entirely off the track. My question was,
  _Can you tell me anything about my nephew?_'

  _Mr. G._ 'Well, it is certainly very queer. _I_ asked a mental
  question to which this is to a certain extent an answer.'

  Mr. G. was seated beside me, thoroughly intent upon Planchette. Miss
  W. was at a distance, and not in any way _en rapport_ with me. If
  this phenomenon of answering mental questions be clairvoyance, the
  situation of these two persons may account for the mixed nature of
  the answer, beginning with Miss W. and finishing with Mr. G."

_Putnam's Monthly Magazine_ for December, 1868, contains an interesting
article entitled "_Planchette in a New Character_." What the "new
character" is in which it appears, may be learned from the introductory
paragraph, as follows:

  "We, too, have a Planchette, and a Planchette with this signal
  merit: it disclaims all pretensions to supermundane inspirations; it
  operates freely--indeed, with extraordinary freedom; it goes at the
  tap of the drum. The first touch of the operators, no matter under
  what circumstances it is brought out to reveal its knowledge, sets
  it in motion. But it brings no communications from any celestial or
  spiritual sources. Its chirography is generally good, and frequently
  excellent. Its remarks evince an intelligence often above that of
  the operators, and its talent at answering or evading difficult
  questions is admirable. We have no theories about it."

It seems, from other passages in the article, that this Planchette
disclaims the ability to tell anything that is not contained in the
minds of the persons present, although it frequently gives theories in
direct contradiction to the opinions of all present, and argues them
with great persistence until driven up into a corner. It simply assumes
the name of "Planchet," leaving off the feminine termination of the
word; and "on being remonstrated with for illiteracy, it defended itself
by saying, 'I always was a bad _speler_,'--an orthographical blunder,"
says the writer, "that no one in the room was capable of making."

Although the writer in the paragraph above quoted disclaims all theories
on the subject, he does propound a theory, such as it is; but of this
we defer our notice until we come to put the several theories that have
been offered into the hopper and grind them up together; at which time
we will take some further notice of the amusing peculiarities of this
writer's Planchette.

The _Ladies' Repository_ of November, 1868, contains an article, written
by Rev. A. D. Field, entitled "Planchette; or, Spirit-Rapping Made
Easy." This writer mentions a number of test questions asked by him of
Planchette, the answers to which were all false. Yet he acknowledges
that "the mysterious little creature called Planchette is no humbug;
that some mysterious will-power causes it to answer questions, and that
it is useless to ignore these things, or to laugh at them." The writer
submits a theory by which he thinks these mysteries may be explained, in
a measure, if not wholly, but this, with others, will be reserved for
notice hereafter.

_Harper's Monthly Magazine_ for December, 1868, contains an article
entitled "_The Confessions of a Reformed Planchettist_." In this
article, the writer, no doubt drawing wholly or in part from his
imagination, details a series of tricks which he had successfully
practiced upon the credulity of others, and concludes by propounding
a very sage and charitable theory to account 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, entitled "_Planchette at the Confessional_." In this article,
the writer cogently argues the claims of these new phenomena upon the
attention of scientific men. He says: "That it [the Planchette] writes
things never dreamed of by the operators, is proved by their own
testimony and the testimony of others, beyond all contradiction;" and
goes so far as to assert that to whatever cause these phenomena may be
attributed, "they will seriously affect the whole science of mental
philosophy." He relates a number of facts, more or less striking, and
propounds a theory in their explanation, to which, with others, we will
recur by-and-by.

The foregoing are a few of the most noted, among the many less
important, lucubrations that have fallen under our notice concerning
this interesting subject--enough, however, to indicate the intense
public 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 assertions of those who
  declare that they do not move the board. I know what operators will
  do in such cases; I know the distortion, the disregard of truth
  which association with this immoral board superinduces."

This writer has somewhat the advantage of me. I confess I have no means
of coming to the knowledge of the truth but those of careful thought,
patient observation, and collection of facts, and deduction from them.
But here is a mind that can with one bold dive reach the inner mysteries
of the sensible and supersensible world, penetrate the motives and
impulses that govern the specific moral acts of men, and disclose
at once to us the horrible secret of a conspiracy which, without
preconcert, has been entered into by thousands of men, women, and
children in all parts of the land, to cheat the rest of the human
race--a conspiracy, too, in which certain members of innumerable private
families have banded together to play tricks upon their fathers,
mothers, brothers, and sisters! I feel awed by the overshadowing
presence of such a mind--in fact, I do not feel 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 assert that the board moves without their
volition, how is it that the answers which they give to questions, some
of them mentally, are in so large a proportion of cases, _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
illustrated by the delicate fingerings of the piano, all correct and
skillful to the nicest shade, while the mind of the performer may for
the moment be occupied in conversation; but not since the world began
has there been an instance in which the mind, acting solely from itself,
by "automatic powers" or otherwise, has been able to body forth any idea
which was not previously within itself. That Planchette does sometimes
write things of which the person or persons under whose hands it moves
never had the slightest knowledge or even conception, it would be
useless to deny.


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 masses than any other. It is the theory urged
by Mr. Headley with a great amount of confidence in his article already
referred to; and with his arguments, as those of an able and, in some
sense, _representative_ writer on this subject, we shall be principally
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, 'Nobody knows.'

  I supposed I knew, because for twenty years she had lived on the
  Hudson River in summer, and in New York in the winter.

  'Is she happy?' I asked. 'Better be dead,' was the reply.

  'Why?' 'Unhappy' was written out at once.

  'What makes her unhappy?' 'Won't tell.'

  'Is she in fault, or others?' 'Partly herself.'

  I now pushed questions in all shapes, but they were evaded. At last
  I asked, 'How many brothers has she?'

  'One,' was the response. 'That,' said I, 'is false;' but not having
  heard from the family for several years, I asked again, 'How 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 superstitious feeling that I
  was endeavoring to ridicule away, was creeping over them, and I
  desisted.... Another day I asked where a certain gentleman was who
  failed years ago, taking in his fall a considerable amount of my own
  funds. I said 'Where is Mr. Green?' 'In Brazil.'

  'Will he ever pay me anything?' 'Yes.'

  'When?' 'Next year.'

  'How much.' 'Ten thousand dollars.'

  Neither of the operators knew anything about this affair, and the
  answer, 'Brazil,' was so out of the way and unexpected, that all
  were surprised. Whether the man was there or not, I could not tell,
  nor did I know if he ever had been there--indeed, the last time I
  heard from him he was in New York."

Now, observing that no conscious or intelligent agency in shaping these
answers is assigned to the young persons whose hands were upon the
board, and who, it appears, did not know anything of the persons
concerning whom the inquiries were made, it would, perhaps, as we desire
nothing but a true philosophy on this matter, be worth while to look a
little critically at the answers and statements that were given, and the
further explanations propounded by Mr. H. For convenience, they may be
classified as follows:

1. Answers that were substantially in the interrogator's own mind when
he asked the questions. Such were the answers to the questions: "How
many 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 passed through my mind that vague fear so common to us all when
we inquire about friends of whom we have not heard for years. The death
of the two brothers baffled all 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 pronounced 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
pronounces "_false_" and thus dismisses them. Such, for instance, is
the answer "Nobody knows," to the question "Where is Mary C----?" "That
this," says he, "was false, is evident on the very face of it."

With this analysis of the leading phenomena cited by Mr. H. before us,
lot us look at the wonderful things which "electricity and magnetism"
are made to accomplish.

I do not dispute that there is such a power of the human mind as that
known as clairvoyance. I have had too many proofs of this to doubt it.
But I have had equally positive proofs that the development of its
phenomena is dependent upon certain necessary conditions, among
which are, that the agent of them, in order to be able to reveal the
secret thoughts of another, must possess by nature peculiar nervous
susceptibilities, enabling his psychic emanations, so to speak, to
sympathetically coalesce with those of the person whose thoughts and
internal mental states are to be the subject of investigation. But this
sympathetic coalescence can not take place where there is the slightest
psychic repulsion or antagonism to the clairvoyant on the part of the
interrogating party. Moreover, even when all these conditions are
present, nothing can be correctly read from the mind of the questioner
unless there is on his mind a _clear and distinct definition_ of the
matters of which he seeks to be told.

But even in class No. 1 of the above series we find that "electricity,"
hitherto believed to be only an imponderable and impersonal fluid, has,
upon Mr. H.'s theory, been able to accomplish the revealment of secret
thoughts entirely independent of all these conditions. It is distinctly
stated that those young persons whose hands were on the Planchette knew
nothing whatever of the matters which formed the several subjects of
inquiry; and for aught that is stated to the contrary, they appear
to have been perfectly awake and in their normal state. In addition
to this, it is to be observed that Mr. Headley here appears in the
assumed character of a captious, contentious, and somewhat irritating
questioner, which, whether he intended it or not, was entirely the
opposite of that harmonious and sympathetic interflow of mental states
known in other cases to be necessary to a successful clairvoyant
diagnosis of inward thoughts. And yet "electricity" overleaps all these
obstacles, seizes facts that occurred many years previous, some of which
were known only to Mr. H. and wife, others only to Mr. H. himself, and
instantly flashes forth the appropriate answer! Here is science! If
there were no other phenomena connected with Planchette, this alone
might well challenge the attention of philosophers!

But if this is wonderful, what shall we think of the achievements of
this same "electricity" and "magnetism" in revealing facts of the second
class--facts which the questioner himself did not and does not 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 passively obedient to certain laws of
equilibrium, suddenly assuming intelligence and volition, burrowing into
a man's brains, rummaging among ten thousand thoughts, emotions, and
experiences stored up in the archives of his memory, and finally coming
to the mere fossil of a (_supposed_) experience from which the last
vestige of memory-life had departed, and seizing this incident, it moves
the little board with an intelligent volition, and lo, the fact stands
revealed.

And again, what of that spicy colloquy in which Planchette writes the
words "devil," "devil's brother," "stir fires," "broil you," etc.? Oh,
Mr. H. tells us, "That was owing to the irritation of the mediums,
their horror and fright, their superstition, and their repugnance to
the questions that were being asked." Curious, is it not? to see
"electricity" seizing hold of this irritation, that horror, the other
fright, and such and such a superstition, repugnance, and disgust,
and, carefully arranging these mental emotions, building them up by a
mysterious mason-work into a distinctly defined and sharply pronounced
individuality, with a peculiar moral and intellectual character of its
own, differing more from each and all of the parties present in the
flesh than any one of the latter differed from another! And this
individuality, too, putting forth a volition which was not _their_
volition, moving the Planchette which _they_ did not move, making
and arranging letters which _they_ did not make and arrange, writing
intelligent words and sentences which _they_ did not write, and then
causing this creation to assume the name and character of a regularly
built "devil"--a character which appears to have been so far from these
young persons' minds that they were unwilling to look it in the face,
and were sorely afraid of it! Surely, if "electricity" can do all this,
then "electricity" itself is the "devil," and the less mankind have to
do with it the better.

But more wonderful still. It appears that "electricity" can give
answers, of which not even the slightest elements previously existed in
the mind of the questioner or any of the company, and which were even
diametrically _contrary_ to his mind; as in the answers of class No. 3.
Here "electricity" swings loose, and, becoming completely independent,
commences business on its "own hook." Not only so, but it even goes so
far beyond the sphere of Mr. H.'s mind as to _fib_ a little, giving at
least two answers which this writer pronounced "false," as noted in
class No. 4--thus giving a still more signal display of its independent
powers of invention--naughty invention though it was.

Seriously, had not friend Headley better employ his fine talents
in giving us another clever book or two about "Washington and his
Generals," and leave Mr. Planchette, and that more wonderful personage,
Mr. Electricity, to take care of themselves? We are obliged here to part
company with Mr. H., and pass on for the purpose of having a few words
under this same head with the reverend author of "Planchette, or
Spirit-Rapping Made Easy," in the _Ladies' Repository_.

I find it difficult to get at the idea of this writer, if indeed he
himself has any definite idea on the subject. By the title of his
article, however, and several expressions that occur in the body of it,
he seems to associate the performances of the Planchette with a somewhat
extensive class of phenomena, in which spirit-rappings, table-tippings,
etc., are included. He says:

  "Twelve years ago I took pains to study the matter, and at that time
  I came to conclusions that are every day being proved to be true. I
  was soon satisfied that as regarded 'trance mediums,' the cause was
  due to one-third trickery, one-third partial insanity or monomania,
  and the remainder animal magnetism. I have since learned that opium
  and hashish (Indian hemp) played an important part. It was proved
  that young ladies purchased written speeches which they delivered
  under the influence of hashish."

He then goes on to speak of galvanism, magnetism, electricity, animal
magnetism, and the odylic force; but, so far as we can see, without
proving any necessary connection between these forces or either of them,
and the subject which he aims to elucidate. Quoting a former article of
his, he continues:

  "The magnetizer of whom I spoke [an exposer of rappings] threw
  himself into magnetic connection with the table, and _willed_ it
  to move hither and thither. The will in this case seemed to be a
  powerful battery, putting its subject into life. Now I suggest
  that this power be applied to machinery. We will get us a large
  propelling wheel, to which we will connect our machinery. We will
  then engage a company of mediums who shall get into _rapport_ with
  one wheel, and stand willing the wheel on in its evolutions.... If a
  table may be made to spin around the room, why may not a wheel be
  made to turn as well?"

The writer certainly deserves credit for this sage suggestion, and a
patent for his machine; but whether he will succeed in making it operate
satisfactorily without calling into requisition the "monomania," the
"hashish," and the "opium," remains to be seen. He then goes on to
describe Planchette, and afterward continues:

  "The mysterious little creature is called Planchette, and is
  no humbug. And it conforms to all the customs of the old-time
  tipping-tables. The operator magnetizes Planchette, and by a
  mysterious will-power causes it to answer questions. Before giving
  illustrations, we may as well state the laws that seem to govern it.
  _First._ It will always answer correctly, _if the operator knows the
  answer_. _Second._ While it will answer other questions, in all the
  experiments I have ever engaged in, it has never answered correctly.
  _Third._ If a person standing by, who has strong magnetic powers,
  asks a question, Planchette will answer. But _in all cases_, in our
  experiments, some ruling mind must have knowledge of what the answer
  should be, if a correct answer is returned."

In reply to the above, we assert, _First_. That the "operator" does not
"magnetize" the board at all, nor does he exercise any "will power"
over it, causing it to answer questions; and if he did thus cause it to
answer only those questions whose answers are already in his mind, what
marvel is there in it, more than there is in my pen being caused by my
will-power to trace these words and sentences? _Secondly._ If by his
_second_ and _third_ specifications of the supposed "laws" which govern
Planchette, he means to imply that it will not tell, _often_ tell,
and tell with remarkable correctness, things that were never known
or dreamed of by the operator, the questioner, or any one present in
visible form, then he simply mistakes, as can be testified by thousands,
in the most positive manner. But the great essential question is, not
so much whether answers given under such and such circumstances can
be _correct_, as whether answers and communications _can be given at
all_, which have no origin in the minds of the persons engaged in
the experiment, and which must hence be referred to some outside
intelligence?

The writer under review, after all, acknowledges his incompetency to
unravel this subject, by saying:

  "There are mysteries in Planchette. No one is ready to explain the
  mysterious connection between the mind and the little machine, but
  there can no longer be any doubt that these curious phenomena,
  table-tipping and all, are produced by magnetism and electricity....
  It is useless to ignore these things, or to laugh at them. It were
  better to account for them, and subject the influence to the power
  of man.... When some scientific man will condescend to toy with
  Planchette, we shall have the curtain drawn aside behind which the
  spirits have operated these years, and this calamitous
  spirit-rapping mania will destroy no longer."

One might almost regret that this latter thought did not occur to the
writer before he commenced his article, in which case, by a little
patient waiting for this ideal and very condescending "scientific
man," we might have been spared this diatribe of jumbled electricity,
magnetism, will-power, opium, hashish, monomania, and driving wheels.


ELECTRICITY HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH IT.

From much and varied observation and experiment in reference to the
performances of Planchette, and of kindred phenomena, now extending over
a period of about twenty years, I here record my denial, in the most
emphatic manner, that electricity or magnetism, properly so called, has
anything to do with the mystery at all, and call for the proof that it
has. That a certain psycho-dynamic agency closely allied to, and in some
of its modifications perhaps identical with, Reichenbach's "Od," or
odylic force, may have some mediatorial part to play in the affair, I
do not dispute, nor yet, for the present, do I affirm. But though this
agency has sometimes been identified with what, for the want of a better
term, has been called "animal magnetism," it has yet to be proved, I
believe, that there are any of the properties of the magnet, or of
magnetism, about it, even so much as would suffice to attract the
most comminuted iron filings. It is remarkable that the assertion or
hypothesis that electricity or magnetism is concerned in the production
of the phenomena in question, has never yet had an origin in any high
scientific authority. This is accounted for by the fact that those
who are properly acquainted with this agency, and who have the proper
apparatus at their command, can demonstrate the truth or falsity of
such a hypothesis with the greatest ease. For an experiment, place
your Planchette upon a plate of glass, or some other non-conducting
substance. Attach to it a common pith-ball electrometer, and then let
your medium place his hands upon the board. If electricity equal to the
force even of a small fraction of a grain passes from the medium to
the board, the pith ball, to that extent, will be deflected from its
position. By means of the _Torsion Balance_ electrometer, invented by
Coulomb, the presence of almost the smallest conceivable fraction of
a grain of electrical force in your Planchette or your table might be
detected; and with these delicate tests within reach, tell us not that
the movements in question are caused by electricity till you have
_proved_ it positively and beyond all dispute.

In the discussion of this electrical theory we have occupied more space
than we originally intended, but we have thought it might be for the
interest of true science to exhibit, once for all, this ridiculous and
yet very popular fallacy, in its true light.


THIRD--THE DEVIL THEORY.

This theory, which appears to have many advocates, is well set forth in
the following excerpts from an article published in the Philadelphia
_Universe_, a Catholic organ:

  "Neither the sight of the eye, nor the touch of the hand, can
  discover the spring by which Planchette moves. Therefore it is not,
  in its movements, a toy. It moves--undoubtedly it moves. And how?
  Intelligently! It answers questions of any kind put to it in any
  language required. It does this. This can not be done but by
  intelligence. Well, by what description of intelligence? It can not
  be supposed that the Divine intelligence is the motive; for how can
  God be conceived to make such a manifestation of himself as
  Planchette exhibits?

  "A corresponding reason cuts off the idea that it is presided over
  by an angelic intelligence; and it is evident to all that a human
  mind does not control it. There is but one more character of
  intelligence--that of evil spirits. Therefore Planchette is moved by
  the agents of hell.... But why should the devil connect himself with
  Planchette?... We suppose that the experienced scoundrel is ready to
  do anything human wickedness may ask him when souls are the price of
  the condescension. But his reasons for particular manifestations are
  of small importance here. Facts are facts, and the point is, that
  Planchette is not a toy, that it is moved by an intelligence, and
  that the intelligence that moves it is necessarily evil. We would
  therefore advise all who have a Planchette to build for it a special
  fire of pitch and brimstone.... No one has a right to consult the
  enemy of God. They who do so are in danger of becoming worshipers of
  the devil, and of dwelling with him for ever."

This theory has at least the merit of being clear, definite, and easy to
be understood, if it is not in all respects convincing. But here we have
an exemplification of the old paradox of an irresistible force coming
in contact with an immovable body. The Catholic priest tells us that
Planchette is _not_ a toy; that it moves by an intelligence and volition
that is not human; that its moving and directing power is of the devil.
The Rev. Dr. Patton, in his article in the _Advance_ (heretofore
referred to), tells us that "It is a philanthropic toy, which may be
used to bring to light hidden connections of mind and body, and to
refute the assumptions of spiritism;" and the Rev. A. D. Field, in his
article in the _Ladies' Repository_, backs up Dr. Patton by saying, that
it is "a mere toy," "is no humbug," is of "some use;"--and, concerning
the _devil_ theory of the general power which moves it and other
physical bodies, he says: there is "too often the spirit of gentleness
to make the theory acceptable." The "immovable body" here, is the
authority of the Catholic priest; the "irresistible force" is the
authority of our clerical brethren representing Protestantism; and after
this fair impingement of the latter upon the former, we shall, perhaps,
have to adopt a compromise solution of the problem, by saying that the
"immovable body" has been moved _a little_, and that the "irresistible
force" has been resisted _some_.

But this _devil_ theory, if what the Bible teaches us concerning that
personage is true, is encumbered with other difficulties; and the first
of these is, that the devil, however wicked, is not a _fool_. If he
should set a trap for human souls, he would not be so stupid as to tell
them there is a trap there. When approaching human beings, he assumes,
as the good book tells us, the garb of an angel of light; but it is not
likely that he would ever say he is the devil, as Planchette sometimes
does--at least until he felt quite sure of his prey. And again, when, in
a case slightly parallel with cases sometimes involved in the question
in hand, the captious Pharisees accused the Saviour of men of casting
out devils by Beelzebub the prince of devils, he reminded them that a
house or a kingdom divided against itself can not stand. Now Planchette,
I admit, is not always a saint--in fact, she sometimes talks and acts
very naughtily as well as foolishly; yet at other times, when a better
_spirit_ takes possession of her, she is gentle, loving, well disposed,
and does certainly give most excellent advice,--advice which could
not be heeded without detriment to the devil's kingdom, and which,
if universally followed, would work its overthrow entirely. It is
inconceivable that Satan would thus tear down with one hand what he
builds up with another. But just at this point I wish to say, I think
there is need of great caution in consulting Planchette on matters
of a weighty or serious nature, lest one should extort from her mere
_confirmations_ of his own errors, either in doctrine or practice; and
that nothing should in any case be accepted from it that is repugnant to
the established principles of the Christian religion. But we are after
the _science_ of the thing now, and for the present that is our only
question--a question, however, which the devil theory, as will appear
from the foregoing, does not seem fully to answer.


THEORY OF A FLOATING, AMBIENT MENTALITY.

It is supposed by those who hold this theory, or rather hypothesis,
that the assumed floating, ambient mentality is an aggregate emanation
from the minds of those present in the circle; that this mentality is
clothed, by some mysterious process, with a force analogous to what it
possesses in the living organism, by which force it is enabled, under
certain conditions, to move physical bodies and write or otherwise
express its thoughts; and that in its expression of the combined
intelligence of the circle, it generally follows the strongest mind, or
the mind that is otherwise best qualified or conditioned to give current
to the thought. Although the writer of the interesting article, entitled
"_Planchette in a New Character_," in _Putnam's Monthly_ for December,
1868, disclaims, at the commencement of his lucubration, all theories on
the subject, yet, after collating his facts, he shows a decided leaning
to the foregoing theory as the nearest approach to a satisfactory
explanation. "Floating, combined intelligence brought to bear upon
an inanimate object," "active intellectual principle afloat in the
circumambient air," are the expressions he uses as probably affording
some light on the subject. This is a thought on which, as concerns its
main features, many others have rested, not only in this country but in
Europe, especially in England, as I am told by a friend who recently
visited several sections of Great Britain where forms of these
mysterious phenomena prevail.

The first difficulty that stands in the way of this hypothesis is
that it supposes a thing which, if true, is quite as mysterious and
inexplicable as the mystery which it purports to explain. How is it
that an "intellectual principle" can detach itself from an intellectual
being, of whose personality it formed the chief ingredient, and become
an outside, objective, "floating," and "circumambient" entity, with a
capability of thinking, willing, acting, and expressing thought, in
which the original possessor of the emanated principle often has no
conscious participation? And after you have told us this, then tell us
how the "intellectual principle," not only of _one_, but of _several_
persons can emanate from them, become "floating" and "ambient," and
then, losing separate identity, _conjoin_ and form _one_ active
communicating agent with the powers aforesaid? And after you have
removed from these _mere assumptions_ the aspect of physical and moral
impossibility, you will have another task to perform, and that is to
show us how this emanated, "combined," "floating," "circumambient"
intelligence can sometimes assume an individual and seemingly _personal_
character of its own, totally distinct from, and, in some features, even
_antagonistic_ to, all the characters in the circle in which the
"emanation" is supposed to have its origin?

It is not denied now that the answers and communications of Planchette
(and of the influence acting through other channels) often do exhibit
a controlling influence of the mind of the medium or of other persons
in the circle. But no theory should ever be considered as explaining
a mystery unless it covers the _whole ground_ of that mystery. Even,
therefore, should we consider the theory of the "floating intelligence"
of the circle reproducing itself in expression, as explaining that part
of the phenomenon which identifies itself with the minds of the circle
(which it does not), what shall be said of those cases in which the
phenomena exhibit characteristics which are _sui generis_, and can not
possibly have been derived from the minds of the circle?

That phenomena of the latter class are sometimes exhibited is not
only proved by many other facts that might be cited, but is clearly
exemplified by this same writer in _Putnam's Magazine_. The intelligence
whose performances and communications he relates seems to stand out with
a character and individuality as strongly marked and as distinct from
any and all in the circle as any one of them was distinct from another.
This individuality was first shown by giving its own pet names to the
different persons composing the circle--"Flirt," "Clarkey," "Hon.
Clarke," "The Angel," and "Sassiness." The young lady designated by the
last _sobriquet_, after it had been several times repeated, petitioned
to be indicated thereafter "only by the initial 'S,'" which the
impertinent scribbler accorded only so far as omitting all the letters
except the five S's, so that she was afterward recognized as
"S.S.S.S.S."

The writer further says:

  "It is always respectful to 'Hon. Clarke,' and when pressed to state
  what it thought of him, answered that he was 'a good skipper,' a
  reputation fairly earned by his capacity for managing a fleet of
  small boats. But we were not contented with so vague an answer, and
  our urgent demand for an analysis of his character produced the
  reply: 'A native crab apple, but spicy and sweet when ripe.' * * *
  When asked to go on, it wrote: 'Ask me Hon. Clarke's character
  again, and I will flee to the realms of imperishable woe; or, as
  Tabitha is here, say I'll pull your nose;' and on being taunted with
  its incapacity to fulfill the threat, it wrote: 'Metaphorically
  speaking, of course.' Not satisfied with this rebuff, on another
  occasion the subject was again pursued, and the answer elicited as
  follows: 'Yes, but you can't fool me. I said nay once, and when I
  says nay I means nay.' [A mind of _its own_, then.] More than once
  it has lapsed into the same misuse of the verb, as: 'I not only
  believes it, but I knows it;' and again: 'You asks and I answers,
  because I am here.' * * *

  "Again, on being remonstrated with for illiteracy, it defended
  itself by saying: 'I always was a bad speler' (_sic_); an
  orthographical blunder that no one in the room was capable of
  making. But on the whole, our Planchette is a scientific and
  cultivated intelligence, of more than average order, though it may
  be, at times, slightly inaccurate in orthography, and occasionally
  quote incorrectly; I must even confess that there are moments when
  its usual elegance of diction lapses into slang terms and abrupt
  contradictions. But, after all, though we flatter ourselves that as
  a family we contain rather more than ordinary intelligence, still it
  is more than a match for us."

Who can fail to perceive, from these quotations and admissions, the
marked and distinctive _individuality_ of the intelligence that was
here manifested, as being of itself totally fatal to the idea of
derivation from the circle?

But not only was this intelligence _distinctive_, but in several
instances even _antagonistic_ to that existing in the circle, as in the
case reported as follows:

  "Some one desiring to pose this ready writer, asked for its theory
  of the Gulf Stream; which it announced without hesitation to be
  'Turmoil in the water produced by conglomeration of icebergs.'
  Objection was made that the warmth of the waters of the natural
  phenomenon rather contradicted this original view of the subject;
  to which Planchette tritely responded: 'Friction produces heat.'
  'But how does friction produce heat in this case?' pursued the
  questioner. 'Light a match,' was the inconsequent answer--Planchette
  evidently believing that the pupil was ignorant of first principles.
  'But the Gulf Stream flows north; how, then, can the icebergs
  accumulate at its source?' was the next interrogation; which
  elicited the contemptuous reply: 'There is as much ice and snow at
  the south pole as at the north, ignorant Clarkey.' 'But it flows
  from the Gulf of Mexico?' pursued the undismayed. 'You've got me
  there, unless it flows underground,' was the cool and unexpected
  retort; and it wound up by declaring, sensibly, that, after all,
  'it is a meeting of the north and south Atlantic currents, which
  collide, and the eddie (_sic_) runs northward.' [At another time,]
  on being twice interrogated in regard to a subject, it replied
  tartly: 'I hate to be asked if I am sure of a fact.'"

Now, what could have been this intelligence which thus insisted upon
preserving and asserting its individuality so distinctly as to forbid
all reasonable hypothesis of a compounded derivation from the minds of
the circle, even were such a thing possible? A fairy, perhaps, snugly
cuddled up under the board so as to elude observation. Friend "Clarkey,"
try again, for surely _this_ time you are a little befogged, or else the
present writer is _more_ so.


"TO DAIMONION" (THE DEMON).

There was published, several years ago, by Gould & Lincoln, Boston,
a little work entitled: "TO DAIMONION, OR THE SPIRITUAL MEDIUM.
_Its nature illustrated by the history of its uniform mysterious
manifestations when unduly excited._ By TRAVERSE OLDFIELD." This author
deals largely in quotations from ancient writers in illustration of his
subject; and as an attempt to explain the mysteries of clairvoyance,
trance, second-sight, "spirit-knockings," intelligent movements of
physical bodies without hands, etc., his work has claims to our
attention which do not usually pertain to the class of works to which it
belongs. "_To Daimonion_" (the demon), or the "spiritual medium," he
supposes to be the _spiritus mundi_, or the spirit of the universe,
which formed so large an element in the cosmological theories of many
ancient philosophers; and this, "when unduly excited" (whatever that
may mean), he supposes to be the medium, not only of many psychic and
apparently preternatural phenomena described in the writings of all
previous ages, but also of the similar phenomena of modern times, of
which it is now admitted that Planchettism is only one of the more
recently developed phases. For some reason, which seemed satisfactory to
him, but which we fear he has not made clear or convincing to the mass
of his readers, this writer assumes it as more than probable that this
_spiritus mundi_--a living essence which surrounds and pervades the
world, and even the whole universe--is identical with the "nervous
principle" which connects the soul with the body,--in all this
unconsciously reaffirming nearly the exact theory first propounded by
Mesmer, in explanation of the phenomena of "animal magnetism," so
called. Quotations are given from Herodotus, Xenophon, Cicero, Pliny,
Galen, and many others, referring to phenomena well known in the times
in which these several writers lived, and which he supposes can be
explained only on the general hypothesis here set forth; and in the same
category of marvels, to be explained in the same way, he places the
performances of the snake-charmers, clairvoyants, thought-readers, etc.,
of modern Egypt and India.

This _spiritus mundi_, or "nervous principle," to which he supposes the
ancients referred when they spoke of "the demon," is, according to his
theory, the medium, or menstruum, by which, under certain conditions
of "excitement," the thoughts and potencies of one mind, with its
affections, emotions, volitions, etc., flow into another, giving rise to
reflex expressions, which, to persons ignorant of this principle, have
seemed possible only as the utterances of outside and supermundane
intelligences. And as this same _spiritus mundi_, or demon, pervades and
connects the mind equally with all _physical_ bodies, in certain _other_
states of "excitement" it moves those physical bodies, or makes sounds
upon them, expressing intelligence--that intelligence always being a
reflex of the mind of the person who, consciously or unconsciously,
served as the exciting agent.

Whatever elements of truth this theory, in a _different_ mode of
application, might be found to possess, in the form in which it is here
presented it is encumbered by two or three difficulties which altogether
seem fatal. In the first place, it wears upon its face the appearance of
a thing "fixed up" to meet an emergency, and which would never have been
thought of except by a mind pressed almost to a state of desperation by
the want of a theory to account for a class of facts. Look at it: "The
spirit of the world identical with the nervous principle"!--the same,
"when unduly _excited_," the medium by which a mind may _unconsciously_
move other minds and organisms, or even dead matter, in the expression
of its own thoughts! Where is the shadow of proof? Is it anything more
than the sheerest assumption?

Then again: even if this mere assumption were admitted for truth, it
would not account for that large class of facts referred to in the
course of our remarks on the "Electrical theory," unless this _spiritus
mundi_, demon, nervous principle, or spiritual medium, is made at once
not only the "medium," but the intelligent and designing _source_ of
the communication; for, as we have said before, it would be perfectly
useless to deny that thoughts are sometimes communicated through the
Planchette and similar channels, which positively never had any
existence in the minds of any of the persons visibly present.

And then, too, in relation to the nature of the demon, or demons: the
theory of the ancients, from whose representative minds this writer has
quoted, was notoriously quite different from that which he has given.
The ancients recognized good demons and evil demons. The demon of
Socrates was regarded by him as an invisible, individual intelligence. A
legion of demons were in one instance cast out by Christ from the body
of a man whom they had infested; we can hardly suppose that these were
simply a legion of "nervous principles" or "souls of the world." What
those demons were really understood to be in those days, may be learned
from a passage in the address of Titus to his army, when encamped before
Jerusalem, in which, in order to remove from their minds the fear of
death in battle, he says:

  "For what man of virtue is there who does not know that those souls
  which are severed from their fleshy bodies in battles by the sword,
  are received by the ether, that purest of elements, and joined to
  that company which are placed among the stars; that they become
  _good demons_ and propitious heroes, and show themselves as such to
  their posterity afterward?"--_Josephus, Wars of the Jews, B. VI.,
  chap. 1, sec. 5._

Hesiod and many others might be quoted to the same purpose; but let
this suffice as to the character and origin of these demons; and it may
suffice also for the theory of _To Daimonion_, as to the particular
mystery here to be explained.


IT IS SOME PRINCIPLE OF NATURE AS YET UNKNOWN.

If there is any wisdom in this theory, it is so profound that we "don't
see it." It looks very much to us as though this amounted only to the
saying that "all we know about the mystery is, that it is _unknown_; all
the explanation that we can give of it is, that it is inexplicable; and
that the only theory of it is, that it has no theory." Thus it leaves
the matter just where it was before, and we should not have deemed this
saying worthy of the slightest notice had we not heard and read so much
grave discussion on the subject, criticising almost every other theory,
and then concluding with the complacent announcement of the writer's or
speaker's theory as superior to all others, that "_it is some principle
or force of nature as yet unknown_!"


THEORY OF THE AGENCY OF DEPARTED SPIRITS.

This theory apparently has both merits and difficulties, which at
present we can only briefly notice. Among the strong points in its
favor, the first and most conspicuous one is, that it accords with
what this mysterious intelligence, in all its numerous forms of
manifestation, has steadily, against all opposition, persisted in
claiming _for itself_, from its first appearance, over twenty years
ago, till this day. And singularly enough, it appears as a fact
which, perhaps, should be stated as a portion of the history of these
phenomena, that years before public attention and investigation were
challenged by the first physical manifestation that claimed a spiritual
origin, an approaching and general revisitation of departed human
spirits was, in several instances, the burden of _remarkable
predictions_. I have in my possession a little book, or bound pamphlet,
entitled, "A Return of Departed Spirits," and bearing the imprint,
"Philadelphia: Published by J. R. Colon, 203½ Chestnut Street, 1843,"
in which is contained an account of strange phenomena which occurred
among the Shakers at New Lebanon, N. Y., during the early part of that
year. In the language of the author: "Disembodied spirits began to take
possession of the bodies of the brethren and sisters; and thus, by using
them as instruments, made themselves known by speaking through the
individuals whom they had got into." The writer then goes on to describe
what purported to be the visitations of hundreds in that way, from
different nations and tribes that had lived on earth in different
ages--the consistency of the phenomena being maintained throughout. I
have conversed with leading men among the Shakers of the United States
concerning this affair, and they tell me that the visitation was not
confined to New Lebanon, but extended, more or less, to all the Shaker
communities in the United States--not spreading from one to another,
but appearing nearly simultaneously in all. They also tell me that the
phenomena ceased about as suddenly as they appeared; and that when the
brethren were assembled, by previous appointment, to take leave of their
spirit-guests, they were exhorted by the latter to treasure up these
things in their hearts; to say nothing about them to the world's people,
but to wait patiently, and soon they (the spirits) would return, and
make their presence known to the world generally.

During the interval between the autumn of 1845 and the spring of 1847,
a book, wonderful for its inculcations both of truth and error, was
dictated in the mesmeric state by an uneducated boy--A. J. Davis--in
which the following similar prediction occurs:

  "It is a truth that spirits commune with one another while one is in
  the body and the other in the higher spheres--and this, too, when
  the person in the body is unconscious of the influx, and hence can
  not be convinced of the fact; and this truth will ere long present
  itself in the form of a living demonstration. And the world will
  hail with delight the ushering in of that era when the interiors of
  men will be opened, and the spiritual communion will be established,
  such as is now being enjoyed by the inhabitants of Mars, Jupiter,
  and Saturn."--_Nat. Div. Rev., pp. 675, 676._

Eight months after the book containing this passage was published, and
more than a year after the words here quoted were dictated and written,
strange rapping sounds were heard in an obscure family in an obscure
village in the western part of New York. On investigation, those sounds
were found to be connected with intelligence, which, rapping at certain
letters of the alphabet as it was called over, spelled sentences, and
claimed to be a _spirit_. The phenomena increased, assumed many other
forms, extended to other mediums, and rapidly spread, not only all
over this country, but over the civilized world. And wherever this
intelligence has been interrogated under conditions which _itself_
prescribes for proper answers, its great leading and persistent response
to the question, "What are you?" has been, "_We are spirits!_" Candor
also compels us to admit that this claim has been perseveringly
maintained against the combined opposition of the great mass of
intelligent and scientific minds to whom the world has looked for its
guidance; and so successfully has it been maintained, that its converts
are now numbered by millions, gathered, not from the ranks of the
ignorant and superstitious, but consisting mostly of the intelligent
and thinking middle classes, and of many persons occupying the highest
positions in civil and social life.

At first its opponents met it with expressions of utter contempt and
cries of "humbug." Many ingenious and scientific persons volunteered
their efforts to expose the "trick;" and if they seemed, in some
instances, to meet with momentary success in solving the mystery, the
next day would bring with it some _new_ form of the phenomenon to
which none of their theories would apply. Being finally discouraged by
repeated failures to explain the hidden cause of these wonders, they
withdrew from the field, and for many years allowed the matter to go by
default; and only within the last twelvemonth has investigation of the
subject been re-aroused by the introduction into this country of the
little instrument called "the Planchette"--an instrument which, to our
certain knowledge, was used at least ten years ago in France, and that,
too, as a supposed means of communicating with departed spirits.

This little board has been welcomed as a "toy" or a "game" into
thousands of families, without suspicion of its having the remotest
connection with so-called "Spiritualism." The cry has been raised,

    "Quidquid id est, timeo Danaos et dona ferentes,"

but too late! The Trojan walls are everywhere down; the wooden horse is
already dragged into the city with all the armed heroes concealed in its
bowels; the battle has commenced, and must be fought out to the bitter
end, as best it may be; and in the numerous magazine and newspaper
articles that have lately appeared on the subject, we have probably
only the beginning of a clash of arms which must terminate one way or
another.

Should our grave and learned philosophers find themselves overcome by
this little three-legged spider, it will be mortifying; but in order to
avoid that result, we fear they will have to do better than they have
done yet.

On the other hand, before the Spiritualists can be allowed to claim the
final victory in this contest, they should, it seems to me, be required
to answer the following questions in a manner satisfactory to the
highest intelligence and the better moral and religious sense of the
community:

Why is it that "spirits" communicating through your mediums, by
Planchette or otherwise, can not relate, plainly and circumstantially,
_any_ required incident of their lives, as a man would relate his
history to a friend, instead of dealing so much in vague and ambiguous
generalities, as they almost always do, and that, too, often in the bad
grammar or bad spelling of the medium? Or, as a question allied to this,
why is it that what purports to be the _same_ spirit, generally, if not
_always_, fails, when trial is made, to identify himself in the _same
manner_ through any two different mediums? Or, as another question still
allied to the above, why is it that your Websters, Clays, Calhouns, and
others, speaking through mediums, so universally give the idea that they
have deteriorated in intellect since they passed into the spirit-world?
And why is it that so little discourse or writing that possesses real
merit, and so much that is mere drivel, has come through your mediums,
if _spirits_ are the authors? And why does it so often happen that the
spirits--if they _are_ spirits--can not communicate anything except what
is already in the mind of the medium, or at least of some other person
present? It does not quite answer these questions to say that the
medium is "_undeveloped_" unless you explain to us precisely on what
principle the undevelopment affects the case. A speaking-trumpet may
be "undeveloped"--cracked or wanting in some of its parts, so as to
deteriorate the sound made through it; but we should at least expect
that a man speaking through it would speak his own thoughts, and not the
thoughts of the trumpet.

And then, looking at this subject in its _moral_ and _social_ aspects,
the question should be answered: Why, on the supposition that these
communications really come from immortal spirits, have they made so
little progress, during the twenty years that they have been with
us, in elevating the moral and social standard of human nature, in
making better husbands and wives, parents and children, citizens and
philanthropists, in drawing mankind together in harmony and charity, and
founding and endowing great institutions for the elevation of the race?
Rather may we not ask, in all kindness, why is it that the Spiritualist
community has been little more than a Babel from the beginning to the
present moment?

Or, ascending to the class of themes that come under the head of
Religion: Why is it that prayer is so generally ignored, and the worship
of God regarded as an unworthy superstition? Why is it that in the
diatribes, dissertations, and speeches of those who profess to act under
the sanction of the "spirits," we have a reproduction of so much of
the slang and ribaldry of the infidels of the last century, and of the
German Rationalism of the present, which is now being rejected by the
Germans themselves? And why is it that in their references to the great
lights of the world, we so often have Confucius, Jesus Christ, and
William Shakspeare jumbled up into indistinguishability?

I do not say that all these questions may not be answered consistently
with the claims of the spiritual hypothesis, but I _do_ say that before
our Spiritualist friends can have a _right_ to expect the better portion
of mankind to drink down this draft of philosophy which they have mixed,
they must at least satisfy them that there is _no poison_ in it.

Having thus exhibited these several theories, and, to an extent,
discussed them _pro et contra_, it is but fair that we should now ask
Planchette--using that name in a liberal sense--what is _her_ theory of
the whole matter? Perhaps it may be said that after raising this world
of curiosity and doubt in the public mind as to its own origin and
true nature, we have some semblance of a right to hold this mysterious
intelligence responsible for a solution of the difficulty it has
created; and perhaps if we are a little skillful in putting our
questions, and occasionally call in the aid of Planchette's brothers and
sisters, and other members of this mysterious family, we may obtain some
satisfactory results.


PLANCHETTE'S OWN THEORY.

Planchette is intelligent; she can answer questions, and often answer
them correctly, too. On what class of subjects, then, might she be
expected to give answers more generally correct than those which relate
to herself, especially if the questions be asked in a proper spirit,
and under such conditions as are claimed to be requisite for correct
responses? Following the suggestion of this thought, the original plan
of this essay has been somewhat modified, and a careful consultation
instituted, of which I here submit the results:

_Inquirer._ Planchette, excuse me if I now treat you as one on whom a
little responsibility is supposed to rest. An exciter of curiosity, if
as intelligent as you appear to be, should be able to satisfy curiosity;
and a creator of doubts may be presumed to have some ability to solve
doubts. May I not, then, expect from _you_ a solution of the mysteries
which have thus far enveloped you?

_Planchette._ That will depend much upon the spirit in which you may
interrogate me, the pertinence of your questions, and your capacity to
interpret the answers. If you propose a serious and careful consultation
for really useful purposes, there is another thing which you should
understand in the commencement. It is that, owing to conditions and laws
which may yet be explained to you, I shall be compelled to use your own
mind as a scaffolding, so to speak, on which to stand to pass you down
the truths you may seek, and which are above the reach of your own mind
alone. Keep your mind unperturbed, then, as well as intent upon your
object, or I can do but little for you.

_I._ The question which stands as basic to all others which I wish to
ask is, What is the nature of this power, intelligence, and will that
communicates with us in this mysterious manner?

_P._ It is the reduplication of your own mental state; it is a spirit;
it is the whole spiritual world; it is God--one or all, according to
your condition and the form and aspect in which you are able to receive
the communication.

_I._ That is covering rather too much ground for a beginning. For
definiteness, suppose we take one of those points at a time. In
saying, "It is a spirit," do you mean that you yourself, the immediate
communicating agent, are an intelligence outside of, and separate from,
myself, and that that intelligence is the spirit or soul of a man who
once occupied a physical body, as I now do?

_P._ That is what I assert--only in reaffirmation of what the world, in
explanation of similar phenomena, has been told a thousand times before.

_I._ Excuse me if I should question you a little closely on this point.
There are grave difficulties in the way of an acceptance of this theory.
The first of these is the _prima facie_ absurdity of the idea.

_P._ Absurdity! How so?

_I._ It is so contrary to our ordinary course of thought; contrary, I
may say, to our instincts; contrary to what the human faculties would
naturally expect; contrary to the general experience of the world up to
this time. In fact, the more highly educated minds of the world have
long agreed in classing the idea as among the grossest of superstitions.

_P._ If you would, in place of each one of these assertions, affirm
directly the contrary, you would come much nearer the truth. It is
certain that the highest minds, as well as the lowest, of all ages and
nations, with only such exceptions as prove rather than disprove the
rule, have confidently believed in the occasional interposition of
spirits in mundane affairs. True, there are in this age many of the
class which you call the "more highly educated minds," who, spoiled by
reasonings merely sensual, and hence necessarily sophistical, do not
admit such an idea; but do not even these generally admit that there is
an invisible world of spirits?

_I._ Most of them do; all professing Christians do. I do, certainly.

_P._ Let me test their consistency, and yours, then, by asking, Do they
and you hold that one and the same God made all worlds, both natural and
spiritual, and all things in them?

_I._ Of course they do; how otherwise?

_P._ Then, seeing that you acknowledge the unity of the Cause of all
worlds and all things in them, you must acknowledge a certain union of
all these in one universal system as the offspring of that one Cause,
must you not?

_I._ Yes; I suppose the totality of things, natural and spiritual, must
be acknowledged as forming, in some sense, one united system, of diverse
but mutually correlated parts.

_P._ Please tell me, then, how there can be any united system in which
the component parts, divisions, and subdivisions, down even to the most
minute, are not each, necessarily and always, in communication with all
the others, either immediately or mediately?

_I._ I see the point, and acknowledge it is ingeniously made; but do you
not see that the argument fails to meet the whole difficulty?

_P._ What I do see is, that in admitting a connection of any kind,
whether mediate or immediate, between the natural and spiritual worlds,
you admit that a communication between the two worlds--hence between all
things of one and all things of the other; hence between the intelligent
inhabitants of one and those of the other--is logically not only
possible but probable, not to say certain; and in this admission you
yield the point under immediate discussion, and virtually concede that
the idea of spirit-communication is not only _not absurd_, but is,
indeed, among the most reasonable of things, to which ignorance and
materialistic prejudice alone have given the aspect of absurdity.

_I._ Well, there is something in that which looks like argument, I must
admit.

_P._ Can you not go a little farther and admit for established fact,
proved by the testimony of the Book from which you derive your religious
faith, that communications between spirits and mortals have sometimes
taken place?

_I._ True, but the Bible calls the spirits thus communicating, "familiar
spirits," and those who have dealings with them, "witches" and
"wizards," and forbids the practice under severe penalties. How does
that sound to you, my ingenious friend?

_P._ The way you put it, it sounds as though you did not quite
understand the full scope of my question; but no matter, since it is
at once a proof and an acknowledgment on your part that spirits have
communicated with mortals--the essential point in dispute, which when
once admitted will render further reasonings more plain. Let me ask you,
however, was not the practice of consulting familiar spirits that is
forbidden in the Bible, a practice that was common among the heathen
nations of those times?

_I._ It was, and is spoken of as such in several passages.

_P._ Did not the heathens consult familiar spirits as petty divinities,
or gods, and as such, follow their sayings and commands implicitly? and
would not the Israelites to whom the Old Testament was addressed have
violated the first command in the decalogue by adopting this practice?
and was not that the reason, and the only reason, why the practice was
forbidden?

_I._ To each of those questions I answer, Yes, certainly.

_P._ Do the Old or New Testament writings anywhere command us to abstain
from all intercourse with spirits?--or from any intercourse which would
not be a violation of the command, "Thou shalt have no other Gods before
me?"

_I._ Really I do not know that the Bible contains any such command.

_P._ Do you not know, on the contrary, that spirits other than those
called "familiar spirits," often did communicate, and with apparently
good and legitimate purposes, too, with men whose names are mentioned in
the Bible?

_I._ Well, I must in candor say that there were some cases of that kind.

_P._ May you not, then, from all this learn a rule which will always
be a safe guide to you in respect to the matters under discussion? I
submit for your consideration, that that rule is, "Be not forgetful to
entertain strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares."
But even if the "strangers" that may come to you, either of your own
world or the spirit-world, should prove to be "angels," do not follow
them implicitly, or in an unreasoning manner, nor worship them as gods,
for in so doing you would render yourself amenable to the law against
having dealings with "familiar spirits."

_I._ I must admit that your remarks throw a somewhat new light on the
subject, and I do not know that I can dispute what you say. But even
admitting all your strong points thus far, the spirit-theory of
Planchettism and other and kindred modern wonders remains encumbered
with a mass of difficulties which it seems to me must be removed before
it can be considered as having much claim to the credence of good and
rational minds. On some of these points I propose now to question you
somewhat closely, and shall hope that you will bear with me in the same
patience and candor which you have thus far manifested.

_P._ Ask your questions, and I shall answer them to the best of my
ability.


THE RATIONAL DIFFICULTY.

_I._ The difficulties, as they appear to me, are of a threefold
character--_Rational_, _Moral_, and _Religious_. I begin with the first,
the Rational Difficulty. And for a point to start from, let me ask,
Is it true, as generally held, that when a man becomes disencumbered
of the clogs and hinderances of the flesh, and passes into the
spirit-world--especially into the realms of the just--his intellect
becomes more clear and comprehensive?

_P._ That is true, as a general rule.

_I._ How is it, then, that in returning to communicate with us mortals,
the alleged spirits of men who were great and wise while living on the
earth, almost uniformly appear to have _degenerated_ as to their mental
faculties, being seldom, if ever, able to produce anything above
mediocrity? And why is it that the speaking and writing purporting to
come from spirits, are so generally in the bad grammar, bad spelling,
and other distinctive peculiarities of the style of the medium, and so
often express precisely what the medium knows, imagines, or surmises,
and nothing more?

_P._ That your questions have a certain degree of pertinence, I must
admit; but in making this estimate of the intelligence purporting to
come from the spiritual world, have you not ignored some things which
candor should have compelled you to take into the account? Think for a
moment.

_I._ Well, perhaps I ought to have made an exception in your own
favor. Your communication with me thus far has, I must admit, been
characterized by a remarkable breadth and depth of intelligence, as well
as ingenuity of argument.

_P._ And what, too, of the style and merits of the communications
purporting to come from spirits to other persons and through other
channels--are they not, as an almost universal rule, decidedly superior
to anything the medium could produce, unaided by the influence, whatever
it may be, which acts upon him?

_I._ Perhaps they are; indeed, I must admit I have known many instances
of alleged spirit-communications which, though evidently stamped with
some of the characteristics of the medium, were quite above the normal
capacity of the latter; yet in themselves considered, they were
generally beneath the capacity of the _living man_ from whose
disembodied spirit they purported to come.

_P._ By just so much, then, as the production given through a medium is
elevated above the medium's normal capacity, is the influence which acts
upon him to be credited with the character of that production. Please
make a note of this point gained. And now for the question why these
communications should be tinctured with the characteristics of the
medium at all; and why spirits can not, as a general rule, communicate
to mortals their own normal intelligence, freely and without
obstruction, as man communicates with man, or spirit with spirit. But
that we may be enabled to make this mystery more clear, we had better
attend first to another question which I see you have in your mind--the
question as to the potential agent used by spirits in making
communications.


THE MEDIUM--THE DOCTRINE OF SPHERES.

_I._ That is what we are anxious to understand; electricity, magnetism,
odylic force, or whatever you may know or believe it to be--give us all
the light you can on the subject.

_P._ Properly speaking, neither of these, or neither without important
qualifications. Preparatory to the true explanation, I will lay the
foundation of a new thought in your mind by asking, Do you know of any
body or organism in nature--unless, indeed, it be a _dead_ body--which
has not something answering to an atmosphere?

_I._ It has been said by some astronomers that the moon has no
atmosphere; though others, again, have expressed the opinion that she
has, indeed, an atmosphere, but a very rare one.

_P._ Precisely so; and as might have been expected from the rarity
of her atmosphere, she has the smallest amount of cosmic life of
any planetary body in the solar system--only enough to admit of the
smallest development of vegetable and animal forms. Still, every sun,
planet, or other cosmic body in space is generally, and every regularly
constituted form connected with that body is specifically, surrounded,
and also pervaded, by its own peculiar and characteristic atmosphere;
and to this universal rule, minerals, plants, animals, man, and in their
own degree even the disembodied men whom you call "spirits," form no
exception.

_I._ Do you mean to say that man and spirits, and also the lower living
forms, are surrounded by a sphere of air or wind like the atmosphere of
the earth, but yet no part of that atmosphere?

_P._ The atmospheres of other bodies than planets are not air or wind,
but in their substances are so different from what you know as the
atmospheres of planets as not to have anything specifically in common
with them. The specific atmospheres of flowers, and when excited by
friction, those also of some metals, and even of stone crystals,
are often perceptible to the sense of smell, and are in that way
distinguishable not only from the atmosphere of the earth, but also from
the atmospheres of each other. But properly speaking, the psychic _aura_
surrounding man and spirits should no longer be called an atmosphere,
that is, an _atom-sphere_ or sphere of atoms, but simply a "sphere;"
for it is not atomic, that is, material, in its constitution, but is
a spiritual substance, and as such extends indefinitely into space,
or rather has only an indirect relation to space at all. Nor is the
atmosphere, as popularly understood, the only enveloping sphere of the
earth, for beyond and pervading it, and pervading also even all solid
bodies, is a sublime interplanetary substance called "ether," the
vehicle of light, and next approach to spiritual substance; while all
bodies, solid, liquid, and gaseous, are also pervaded by electricity.

_I._ All that is interesting, but the subject is new to me, and I would
like to have some farther illustration. Can you cite me some familiar
fact to prove that man is actually surrounded and pervaded by a sphere
such as you describe?

_P._ I can only say that you are at times conscious of the fact
yourself, as all persons are who are possessed of an ordinary degree
of psychic sensitiveness. Does not even the silent presence of certain
persons, though entire strangers, affect you with an uncomfortable sense
of repulsion, perhaps embarrassing your thoughts and speech, while in
the presence of others you at once feel perfectly free, easy, at home,
and experience even a marked and mysterious sense of congeniality?

_I._ That is so; I have often noticed it, but never could account for
it.

_P._ Farther than this, have you not at times when free from external
disturbances, with the mind in a revery of loose thoughts, noticed the
abrupt intrusion of the thought of a person altogether out of the line
of your previous meditations, and then observed that the same person
would come bodily into your presence very shortly afterward?

_I._ I have, frequently; the same phenomenon appears to have been
noticed by others, and is so common an occurrence as to have given rise
to the well-known slang proverb, "Speak of the devil and he will always
appear."

_P._ Just so; but still further: Have you not personally known of
instances, or been credibly informed of them, in which mutually
sympathizing friends of highly sensitive organizations were mysteriously
and correctly impressed with each other's general conditions, even when
long distances apart, and without any external communication?

_I._ I have heard and read of many such cases, but could have scarcely
believed them had I not had some experience of the kind myself.

_P._ There must, then, be here some medium of communication; that medium
is evidently not anything cognizable to either of the five outer senses.
What, then, can it be but the co-related spheres of the two persons,
which I have already told you are not atomic--not material but
spiritual, and as such have little relation to space?

_I._ That idea, if true, looks to me to be of some importance, and I
would like you, if you can, to show me clearly what relation these
"spheres," as you call them, have to the spiritual nature of man.

_P._ Consider, then, the primal meaning of the word "spirit:" It is
derived from the Latin _spiritus_, the basic meaning of which is
_breath_, _wind_, air--nearly the same idea that you attach to the word
"atmosphere." So the Greek word _pneuma_, also translated "spirit,"
means precisely the same thing. The same meaning is likewise attached
to the Hebrew word _ruach_, also sometimes translated "spirit." Now,
carrying out this use of terms, the wind, air, or atmosphere of the
earth (including the ether, electricity, and other imponderable
elements) is the spirit of the earth;[2] the atmosphere of any other
body, great or small, is the spirit of that body; the atmosphere, or
rather sphere, being now without atoms, of a man, considered as an
intellectual and moral being, is the spirit of that man; the sphere of
a disembodied man or soul is the spirit of that man or soul; and so the
Infinite and Eternal Sphere of the Deity which pervades and controls all
creations both in the spiritual and natural universe, is the Spirit of
the Deity, which in the Bible is called the Holy Spirit.

      [2] Query: Have we here the _spiritus mundi_ of the old
      philosophers?

_I._ Well, those ideas seem singularly consistent with themselves, to
say the least, however novel they may appear. But now another point: You
have said that atmospheres or spheres surround and pervade all bodies,
unless, indeed, they be _dead_ bodies--attributing, as I understand you,
a kind of _cosmic_ life to plants, and a mineral life to minerals, as
well as a vegetable and animal life respectively to vegetables and
animals; do you mean by that to intimate that the sphere is the _effect_
or the _cause_ of the living body?

_P._ Of each living material form, the sphere, or at least _some_
sphere, was the cause. Matter, considered simply by itself, is dead, and
can only live by the influx of a surrounding sphere or spirit. It may
be said at the last synthesis, that the _general_ sphere even of each
microscopic monad that is in process of becoming vitalized, as well as
of the great nebulous mass that is to form a universe, is the Spirit
of the Infinite Deity, which is present with atoms in the degree of
atoms, as well as with worlds in the degree of worlds. This Spirit,
as it embodies itself in matter, becomes segregated, finited, and
individualized, and forms a specific soul, spirit, or sphere by itself,
now no longer deific, but always of a nature necessarily corresponding
to the peculiar form and condition of the matter in which it becomes
embodied. Life, therefore, is not the result of organization, but
organization is the result of life, which latter is eternal, never
having had a beginning, and never to have an end. Some of your
scientific men have recently discovered what they have been pleased to
term "the physical basis of life," in a microscopic and faintly vital
substance called _protoplasm_, which forms the material foundation of
all organic structures, both in the vegetable and animal kingdoms. They
have not yet, however, discovered the source from which the life found
in this substance comes--which would be plain to them if they understood
the doctrine of spheres and influx as I have here given it.

_I._ I thank you for this profoundly suggestive thought, even should it
prove to be no more than a thought. But please now show us what bearing
all this has upon the question more particularly before us--the question
as to the medium and process through which this little board is moved,
the tables are tipped, people are entranced and made to speak and write,
and all these modern wonders are produced--also how and why it is that
the alleged spirit-communications are commonly tinctured, more or less,
with the peculiar characteristics of the human agents through whom they
are given?

_P._ You now have some idea of the doctrine of spheres; you will,
however, understand that the spheres of created beings, owing to a unity
of origin, are universally co-related, and, under proper conditions, can
act and react upon each other. You have before had some true notion of
the laws of _rapport_, which means relation or correspondence. You will
understand, further, that there can be no action between any two things
or beings in any department of creation except as they are in _rapport_
or correspondence with each other, and that the action can go no farther
than the _rapport_ or correspondence extends. Now, two spirits can
always, when it is in divine order, readily communicate with each other,
because they can always bring themselves into direct _rapport_ at some
one or more points. Though matter is widely discreted from spirit, in
that the one is dead and the other is alive, yet there is a certain
correspondence between the two, and between the degrees of one and the
degrees of the other; and according to this correspondence, relation,
or _rapport_, spirit may act upon matter. Thus your spirit, in all its
degrees and faculties, is in the closest _rapport_ with all the degrees
of matter composing your body, and for this reason alone it is able to
move it as it does, which it will no longer be able to do when that
_rapport_ is destroyed by what you call death. Through your body it is
_en rapport_ with, and is able to act upon, surrounding matter. If,
then, you are in a susceptible condition, a spirit can not only get into
_rapport_ with your spirit, and through it with your body, and control
its motions, or even suspend your own proper action and external
consciousness by entrancement, but if you are at the same time _en
rapport_ with this little board, it can, through contact of your hands,
get into _rapport_ with _that_, and move it without any conscious or
volitional agency on your part. Furthermore, under certain favorable
conditions, a spirit may, through your sphere and body combined, come
into _rapport_ even with the spheres of the ultimate particles of
material bodies near you, and thence with the particles and the whole
bodies themselves, and may thus, even without contact of your hands,
move them or make sounds upon them, as has often been witnessed. Its
action, however, as before said, ceases where the _rapport_ ceases; and
if communications from really intelligent spirits have sometimes been
defective as to the quality of the intelligence manifested, it is
because there has been found nothing in the medium which could be
brought into _rapport_ or correspondence with the more elevated ideas of
the spirit. The spirit, too, in frequent instances, is unable to prevent
its energizing influences from being diverted by the reactive power of
the medium, into the channels of the imperfect types of thought and
expression that are established in his mind, and it is for this simple
reason that the communication is, as you say, often tinctured with the
peculiarities of the medium, and even sometimes is nothing more than
a reproduction of the mental states of the latter, perhaps greatly
intensified.

_I._ If this theory, so far seemingly very plausible, is really the
correct one, it ought to go one step farther, and explain the many
disorderly unintelligible rappings, thumpings, throwing of stones,
hurling of furniture, etc., which often have occurred in the presence
of particular persons, or at particular places.[3]

      [3] See an article entitled "_A Remarkable Case of Physical
      Phenomena_," in the _Atlantic Monthly_ for August, 1868.

_P._ Those are manifestations which, when not the designed work of evil
spirits, have their proximate source in the dream-region which lies
between the natural and spiritual worlds.

_I._ Pray tell us what you mean by the dream-region that lies between
the two worlds?

_P._ There are sometimes conditions in which the body is profoundly
asleep, with no perturbations of the nervous system caused by previous
mental and physical exercise. In this state the mind may still be
perfectly awake, and independently, consciously, and even intensely
active. When thus conditioned, it may be, and often is, among spirits
in the spiritual world, though from the nature of the case it is seldom
able to bring back into the bodily state any reminiscences of the scenes
of that world. The dream state, properly speaking, is not this, but
a state intermediate between this and the normal, wakeful state of
the bodily senses, and is a state of broken, confused, irrational,
inconsistent, and irresponsible thoughts, emotions, and apparent
actions--the whole arising from confusedly intermixed bodily and
spiritual states and influences. The potential spheres of spirits who
desire to make manifestations to the natural world sometimes become
commingled, designedly or otherwise, with the spheres of persons in the
body who, in consequence of certain nervous or psychic disorders, are
more or less in this dream-region even when the body is so far awake as
to be _en rapport_ with external things; and in such cases, whatever
manifestations may arise from the spiritual potencies with which such
persons are surcharged, will of necessity be beyond the control, or
possibly even beyond the cognizance, of any governing spirit, and will
be irrational, inconsistent, and sometimes very annoying, or even
destructive, according to the types of the dreamy mentality of the
medium. If you will think for a moment, you will remember that the kind
of manifestations referred to are never known to occur except in the
presence of persons in a semi-somnambulic or highly hysterical state,
or laboring under some analogous nervous disorders; and the persons are
often of a low organization, and very ignorant.


THE MORAL AND RELIGIOUS DIFFICULTY.

_I._ I am constrained to say, my mysterious friend, that the novelty and
ingenuity of your ideas surprise me greatly, and I do, in all candor,
acknowledge that you have skillfully disposed of my objections to the
spiritual theory of these phenomena on _rational_ grounds, and explained
the philosophy of this thing, in a manner which I am at present unable
to gainsay. I must still hesitate, however, to enroll myself among the
converts to the spiritual theory unless you can remove another serious
objection, which rests on _moral and religious grounds_. From so
important and startling a development as general open communications
from spirits, it seems to me that we would have a right to expect some
conspicuous _good_ to mankind; yet, although this thing has been before
the world now over twenty years, I am unable to see the evidence that
it has wrought any improvement in the moral and social condition of
the converts to its claims. Pray, how do you account for that fact?

_P._ My friend, that question should be addressed to the Spiritualists,
not to me. I will say, however, that this whole subject, long as it has
been before the world, is still in a chaotic state, its laws have been
very little understood, and even its essential objects and uses have
been very much misconceived. I may add that, from its very nature, its
real practical fruits as well as its true philosophy must necessarily be
the growth of a considerable period of time.

_I._ I will not, then, press the objection in that form. When we look,
however, at the _Religious_ tendencies of the thing, I do not think we
find much promise of the "practical fruits" which you here intimate may
yet come of it. I lay it down as a proposition which all history proves,
that Infidelity, in all its forms, is an enemy to the human race, and
that it never has done or can do anybody any good, but always has done
and must do harm. But it is notorious that the spirits, if they be
such, with their mediums and disciples, have _generally_ (though not
universally, I grant) assumed an attitude at least of _apparent_
hostility to almost every thing peculiar to the Christian religion,
and most essential to it, and are constantly reiterating the almost
identical ribaldry and sophistry of the infidels of the last century.
How shall a good and Christian person who knows and has felt the truth
of the vital principles of Christianity become a Spiritualist while
Spiritualism thus denies and scoffs at doctrines which he _feels_ and
_knows_ to be true?

_P._ The point you thus make is apparently a very strong one. But let
me ask, Can you not conceive that there may be a difference between the
mere word-teaching of Spiritualists and even spirits themselves, and the
_real_ teaching of Spiritualism as such? that is to say, between mere
verbal utterances and phenomenal demonstrations? For illustration,
suppose a man asserts at noonday that there is no sun, does he teach you
there is no sun? or does he teach you that he is blind?

_I._ That he is blind, of course.

_P._ So, then, when a spirit comes to you and asserts that there is no
God--it is seldom that they assert that, but we will take an extreme
case--does he teach you that there is no God, or does he teach you that
he himself is a fool?

_I._ Well, I should say he would teach the latter; but what use would
the knowledge that he is such a fool be to us?

_P._ It is one of the important providential designs of these
manifestations to teach mankind that spirits in general maintain
the characters that they formed to themselves during their earthly
life--that, indeed, they are the identical persons they were while
dwelling in the flesh--hence, that while there are just, truthful,
wise, and Christian spirits, there are also spirits addicted to lying,
profanity, obscenity, mischief, and violence, and spirits who deny God
and religion, just as they did while in your world. It has become very
necessary for mankind to know all this; it certainly could in no other
way be so effectually made known as by an actual manifestation of it;
and it is just as necessary that you should see the _dark_ side as the
_bright_ side of the picture.

_I._ Yet a person already adopting, or predisposed to adopt, any false
doctrine asserted by a spirit, would, it seems to me, be in danger of
receiving the spirit-assertion as _verbally_ true.

_P._ That is to say, a person already in, or inclined to adopt, the
same error that a spirit is in, would be in danger of being confirmed,
for the time being, in that error, by listening to the spirit's
asseveration. This, I admit, is just the effect produced for a time
by the infidel word-teaching of some spirits upon those _already_
embracing, or inclined to embrace, infidel sentiments. But if you
will look beyond this superficial aspect of the subject at its great
phenomenal and rational teachings, I think you will see that its deeper,
stronger, and more permanent tendency is, not to promote infidelity, but
ultimately to destroy it for ever. I have said before, that the real
object of this development has been very much misconceived; I tell you
now that the great object is to purge the Church itself of its latent
infidelity; to renovate the Christian faith; and to bring theology and
religion up to that high standard which will be equal to the wants of
this age, as it certainly now is not.

_I._ Planchette, you are now touching upon a delicate subject. You
should know that we are inclined to be somewhat tenacious of our
theological and religious sentiments, and not to look with favor on any
innovations. Nevertheless, I am curious to know how you justify yourself
in this disparaging remark on the theology and religion of the day?

_P._ I do not mean to be understood that there is not much that is true
and good in it. There is; and I would not by a single harsh word wound
the loving hearts of those who have a spark of real religious life in
them. I would bind up the bruised reed, rather than break it; I would
fan the smoking flax into a flame, rather than quench it. This is the
sentiment of all _good_ spirits, of whom I trust I am one. But let me
say most emphatically, that you want a public religion that will tower
high above all other influences whatsoever; that will predominate over
all, and ask favors of none; that will unite mankind in charity and
brotherly love, and not divide them into hostile sects, and that will
infuse its spirit into, and thus give direction to, all social and
political movements. Such a religion the world must have, or from this
hour degenerate.

_I._ Why might not the religion of the existing churches accomplish
these results, provided its professors would manifest the requisite zeal
and energy?

_P._ It is doing much good, and might, on the conditions you specify,
do much more. Yet the public religion has become negative to other
influences, instead of positive, as it should be, from which false
position it can not be reclaimed without such great and vital
improvements as would almost seem to amount to a renewal _ab ovo_.

_I._ On what ground do you assert that the religion of the day stands in
a position "negative" to other influences?

_P._ I will answer by asking: Is it not patent to you and all other
intelligent persons, that for the last hundred years the Christian
Church and theology have been standing mainly on the defensive against
the assaults of materialism and the encroachments of science? Has it
not, without adequate examination, poured contempt on Mesmerism,
denounced Phrenology, endeavored to explain away the facts of Geology
and some of the higher branches of Astronomy? Has it not looked with a
jealous eye upon the progress of science generally? and has it not
been at infinite labor in merely defending the _history_ of the life,
miracles, death, and resurrection of Christ, against the negations of
materialists, which labor might, in a great measure, have been saved if
an adequate proof could have been given of the power and omnipotent
working of a _present_ Christ? And what is the course it has taken with
reference to the present spiritual manifestations, the claims of which
it can no more overthrow than it can drag the sun from the firmament?
Now a true church--a church to which is given the power to cast out
devils, and take up serpents, or drink any deadly thing, without being
harmed--will always be able to stand on the aggressive against its
_real_ spiritual foes more than on the mere defensive, and in no case
will it ever turn its back to a fact in science. Its power will be
the power of the Holy Spirit, and not the power of worldly wealth and
fashion. When it reasons of righteousness, temperance, and judgment,
Felix will tremble, but it will never tremble before Felix, lest he
withdraw his patronage from it.

_I._ I admit that the facts you state about the Church's warfare in
these latter days have not the most favorable aspect; but how the needed
elements of theology and religion are to be supplied by demonstrations
afforded by these latter-day phenomena, I do not yet quite see.

_P._ If religious teachers will but study these facts, simply _as_
facts, in all the different aspects which they have presented, from
their first appearance up to this time--study them in the same spirit
in which the chemist studies affinities, equivalents, and isomeric
compounds--in the same spirit in which the astronomer observes planets,
suns, and nebulæ--in the same spirit in which the microscopist studies
monads, blood-discs, and protoplasm--always hospitable to a new fact,
always willing to give up an old error for the sake of a new truth;
never receiving the mere _dicta_ either of spirits or men as absolute
authority, but always trusting the guidance of right reason wherever she
may lead--if, I say, they will but study these great latter-day signs,
providential warnings and monitions, in this spirit, I promise them that
they shall soon find a _rational_ and _scientific_ ground on which to
rest every real Christian doctrine, from the Incarnation to the crown of
glory--miracles, the regeneration, the resurrection, and all, with the
great advantage of having the doctrine of immortality taken out of the
sphere of _faith_ and made a _fixed fact_. Furthermore, I promise them,
on those conditions, that they shall hereafter be able to _lead_ science
rather than be dragged along unwillingly in its trail; and then science
will be forever enrolled in the service of God's religion, and no longer
in that of the world's materialism and infidelity.

_I._ Planchette, your communication has, upon the whole, been of a most
startling character; tell me, I pray you, what do you call all this
thing, and what is to come of it?


WHAT THIS MODERN DEVELOPMENT IS, AND WHAT IS TO COME OF IT.

_P._ Can you, then, bear an announcement still more startling than any I
have yet made?

_I._ I really know not; I will try; let us have it.

_P._ Well, then, I call it a Fourth Great Divine Epiphany or
Manifestation; or what you will perhaps better understand as one of the
developments characterizing the beginning of a Fourth Great Divine
Dispensation. What is to come of it, you will be able to judge as well
as I when you understand its nature.

_I._ What! so great an event heralded by so questionable an
instrumentality as the rapping and table tipping spirits?

_P._ Be calm, and at the same time be humble. Remember that it is not
unusual for God to employ the foolish things of this world to confound
the wise, and that when He comes to visit His people, He almost always
comes in disguises, and sometimes even "as a thief in the night."
Besides the spirits of which you speak are only the rough but very
useful pioneers to open a highway through which the King is coming with
innumerable hosts of angels, who, indeed, are already near you, though
you see them not. It is, indeed, an hour of temptation that has come
upon all the world; but be watchful and true, prayerful and faithful,
and fear not.

_I._ Please tell us then, if you can, something of the nature and
objects of this new Divine Epiphany which you announce; and as you say
it is a _Fourth_, please tell us, in brief, what were the preceding
_Three_, the times of their occurrence, and how they are all
distinguished from each other.

_P._ The _First_ appealed only to the affections and the inner sense of
the soul, and was the Dispensation of the most ancient Church, when God
walked with man in the midst of the garden of his own interior delights,
and when "Enoch walked with God and was not, for God took him." But as
this sense of the indwelling presence of God was little more than a mere
_emotion_, for which, in that period of humanity's childhood, there was
no adequate, rational, and directive intelligence, men, in process of
time, began to mistake _every_ delight as being divine and holy;
thus they justified themselves in their _evil_ delights, or in the
gratification of their lusts and passions, considering even these as all
divine. [The "sons of God" marrying the "daughters of men."--_Gen._
vi. 2-4.] And as they possessed no adequate reasoning faculty to which
appeals might be made for the correction of these tendencies, and thus
no ground of reformation, the race gradually grew to such a towering
height of wickedness that it had to be almost entirely destroyed. The
_Second_ age or Dispensation, commencing with Noah, was distinctively
characterized by the more special manifestation of God in outward types
and shadows, in the _adyta_ of temples and other consecrated places and
things, from which, as representative seats of the Divine Presence, and
through inspired men, were issued _laws_ to which terrible penalties
were annexed, as is exemplified by the law issued from Mount Sinai.
The evil passions of men were thus put under restraint, and a rational
faculty of discriminating between right and wrong--that is to say, a
_Conscience_--was at the same time developed. But the sophistical use
of these types and shadows (of which all ancient mythology is an
outgrowth), and the accompanying perversion of the general conscience
of mankind, gradually generated _Idolatry_ and _Magic_ with all their
complicated evils, against which the Jewish Church, though belonging to
the same general Dispensation, was specially instituted to react.
Furthermore, as the mere restraints of penal law necessarily imply the
existence in man of latent evils upon which the restraint is imposed, it
is manifest that such a dispensation alone could not bring human nature
to a state of perfection; and so a _Third_ was instituted, in which _God
was manifested in the flesh_. That is to say, He became incarnate in
one man who was so constituted as to embody in himself the qualitative
totality of Human Nature, that through this one Man as the Head of the
Body of which other men were the subordinate organs, He might become
united with all others--so that by the spontaneous movings of the living
Christ within, and thus in perfect freedom, they might live the divine
life in their very fleshly nature, previously the source of all sinful
lusts, but now, together with the inner man, wholly regenerated and
made anew. Here, then, is a _Trinity_ of Divine manifestations, to
the corresponding triune degrees of the nature of man--the inner or
affectional degree, the intermediate, rational, or conscience degree,
and the external, or sensuous degree.

But while this was all that was necessary as a ground for the perfect
union of man with God, in the graduated triune degrees here mentioned,
and thus all that was necessary for his personal salvation in a sphere
of being beyond and above the earthy, it was _not_ all that was
necessary to perfect his relations to the great and mysterious realm of
forms, materials, and forces which constitute the theater of his earthly
struggles; nor was it quite all that was necessary to project and carry
into execution the plan of that true and divine structure, order and
government of human society which might be appropriately termed "the
kingdom of heaven upon earth; wherefore you have now, according to a
divine promise frequently repeated in the New Testament, a _Fourth_
Great Divine Manifestation, which proves to be a manifestation of God in
_universal science_.

_I._ But that "_Fourth_ Manifestation" (or "_second_ coming," as we are
in the habit of calling it), which was promised in the New Testament,
was to be attended with imposing phenomena, of which we have as yet seen
nothing. It was to be a coming of Christ "in the clouds of heaven, with
power and great glory," and the resurrection of the dead, the final
judgment, etc., were to occur at the same time?

_P._ Certainly; but you would not, of course, insist upon putting a
strictly literal interpretation upon this language, and thus turning
it into utter and senseless absurdity. The _real "heaven"_ is not that
boundary of your vision in upper space which you call the sky, but the
interior and living reality of things. The "_clouds_" that are meant
are not those sheets of condensed aqueous vapor which float above
your head, but the material coatings which have hitherto obscured
interior realities, and through which the Divine _Logos_, the "Sun of
Righteousness," is now breaking with a "power" which moves dead matter
without visible hands, and with a "great glory," or light, which reveals
a spiritual world within the natural. The "_Resurrection_" is not the
opening of the literal graves, and re-assembling of the identical flesh,
blood, and bones of dead men and nations which, during hundreds and
even thousands of years, have been combining and re-combining with the
universal elements; but it is the re-establishment of the long-suspended
relations of spirits with the earthly sphere of being, by which they
are enabled to freely manifest themselves again to their friends in the
earthly life, and often to receive great benefits in return; and if
you do not yet see, as accompanying and growing out of all this, the
beginning of an ordeal that is to try souls, institutions, creeds,
churches, and nations, as by fire, you had better wait awhile for a more
full exposition of the "_last judgment_." People should learn that the
kingdom of God comes not to _outward_ but to _inward_ observation, and
that as for the prophetic words which have been spoken on this subject,
"they are spirit, and they are life."

_I._ And what of the changed aspects of science that is to grow out of
this alleged peculiar Divine manifestation?

_P._ To answer that question fully would require volumes. Be content,
then, for the present, with the following brief words: Hitherto science
has been almost wholly materialistic in its tendencies, having nothing
to do with spiritual things, but ignoring and casting doubts upon them;
while _spiritual_ matters, on the other hand, have been regarded by the
Church wholly as matters of faith with which science has nothing to
do. But through these modern manifestations, God is providentially
furnishing to the world all the elements of a spiritual science which,
when established and recognized, will be the stand-point from which
all physical science will be viewed. It will then be more distinctly
known that all external and visible forms and motions originate from
invisible, spiritual, and ultimately divine causes; that between cause
and effect there is always a necessary and intimate _correspondence_;
and hence that the whole outer universe is but the symbol and sure
index of an invisible and _vastly more real_ universe within. From
this unitary basis of thought the different sciences as now correctly
understood may be co-related in harmonic order as One Grand Science, the
_known_ of which, by the rule of correspondence, will lead by easy clews
to the _unknown_. The true structure and government of human society
will be clearly hinted by the structure and laws of the universe,
and especially by that _microcosm_, or little universe, the human
organization. All the great stirring questions of the day, including the
questions of suffrage, woman's rights, the relations between labor and
capital, and the questions of general political reform, will be put into
the way of an easy and speedy solution; and mankind will be ushered into
the light of a brighter day, socially, politically, and religiously,
than has ever yet dawned upon the world.

_I._ My invisible friend, the wonderful nature of your communication
excites my curiosity to know your name ere we part. Will you have the
kindness to gratify me in this particular?

_P._ That I may not do. My name is of no consequence in any respect.
Besides, if I should give it, you might, unconsciously to yourself, be
influenced to attach to it the weight of a personal authority, which
is specially to be avoided in communications of this kind. There is
nothing to prevent deceiving spirits from assuming great names, and you
have no way of holding them responsible for their statements. With
thinkers--minds that are developed to a vigorous maturity--the truth
itself should be its only and sufficient authority. If what I have told
you appears intrinsically rational, logical, scientific, in harmony with
known facts, and appeals to your convictions with the force of truth,
accept it; if not, reject it; but I advise you not to reject it before
giving it a candid and careful examination. I may tell you more at some
future time, but for the present, farewell.


CONCLUSION.

Here the interview ended. It was a part of my original plan, after
reviewing various theories on this mysterious subject, to propound one
of my own; but this interview with Planchette has changed my mind.
I confess I am amazed and confounded, and have nothing to say. The
commendable motive which the invisible intelligence, whatever it may
be, assigned in the last paragraph for refusing to give its name,
also prompts me to withhold my own name from this publication for the
present, and likewise to abstain from the explanation I intended to
give of certain particulars as to the manner and circumstances of this
communication. On its own intrinsic merits alone it should be permitted
to rest; and as I certainly feel that my own conceptions have been
greatly enlarged, not to say that I have been greatly instructed, I give
it forth in the hope that it may have the same effect upon my readers.


HOW TO WORK PLANCHETTE.

We have received letters from different persons who have tried
Planchette, but failed to make her work. Our correspondents wish to know
the reason of the failure, and what conditions must be complied with on
their part to remedy the difficulty. We reply by the insertion of the
following rules, which should be read in connection with the descriptive
paragraph near the commencement of this pamphlet:

  =RULES TO BE OBSERVED IN USING PLANCHETTE.=

  For some persons (strong magnetizers), "Planchette" moves at once,
  and for one such person it moves rapidly and writes distinctly. With
  such a person it is not necessary for another to put their hands on;
  it will operate alone for them, and better than with two persons.

  It has been noticed that one pair of male and one pair of female
  hands form a more perfect Battery to work "Planchette" than two
  males or two females would do.

  It has also been noticed that one light and one dark complexioned
  person are better than two light or two dark persons would be
  together; also, that two females, with their hands on together, are
  better than the hands of two males would be.

  If, after observing these rules, "Planchette" should refuse to
  write, or move, different persons must try until the necessary
  Battery is formed to make it operate. (It is here remarked that the
  average number of persons able to work "Planchette" is about five
  to eight; but it is still possible, but improbable, to have an
  assemblage of eight persons and not any be able to make "Planchette"
  go.) After it is ascertained who are the proper persons to move
  "Planchette," no end of fun, amusement, and possibly instruction,
  will be afforded.

According to the experience of the present writer, the proportional
number of those for whom Planchette will work promptly, and from the
first, is not quite so great as here given. But by perseverance through
repeated trials, under the right mental and physical conditions,
most persons may at length obtain responsive movements, more or less
satisfactory. Planchette, however (or the intelligence which moves her),
likes to be treated with a decent respect, and has a repugnance to
confusion. Ask her, therefore, none but respectful questions, and _only
one of these at a time_; and when there are several persons in the
company anxious to obtain responses, while one is consulting let all
the others keep _perfectly quiet_, and each patiently await his turn.
A non-compliance with these conditions generally spoils the experiment.




SPIRITUALISM.

BY MRS. HARRIET BEECHER STOWE.

  [The following was written for, and published in the _Christian
  Union_. It was reprinted in THE PHRENOLOGICAL JOURNAL in 1870. We
  present it here, as in some measure explanatory of all the matter
  which precedes it. There are many who do not accept all that is
  claimed to be true, in Modern Spiritualism, who will entertain the
  moderate views expressed by The Author of Uncle Tom's Cabin.
  EDITOR.]


It is claimed that there are in the United States four million
Spiritualists. The perusal of the advertisements in any one of the
weekly newspapers devoted to this subject will show that there is a
system organized all over the Union to spread these sentiments. From
fifty to a hundred, and sometimes more, of lecturers advertise in a
single paper, to speak up and down the land; and lyceums--progressive
lyceums for children, spiritual pic-nics, and other movements of the
same kind, are advertised. This kind of thing has been going on from
year to year, and the indications now are that it is increasing rather
than diminishing.

It is claimed by the advocates of these sentiments that the number of
those who boldly and openly profess them is exceeded by the greater
number of those who are _secretly_ convinced, but who are unwilling to
encounter the degree of obloquy or ridicule which they would probably
meet on an open avowal.

All these things afford matter for grave thought to those to whom none
of the great and deep movements of society are indifferent. When we
think how very tender and sacred are the feelings with which this has
to do--what power and permanency they always must have, we can not but
consider such a movement of society entitled at least to the most
serious and thoughtful consideration.

Our own country has just been plowed and seamed by a cruel war. The
bullet that has pierced thousands of faithful breasts has cut the
nerve of life and hope in thousands of homes. What yearning toward the
invisible state, what agonized longings must have gone up as the sound
of mournful surges, during these years succeeding the war! Can we wonder
that any form of religion, or of superstition, which professes in the
least to mitigate the anguish of that cruel separation, and to break
that dreadful silence by any voice or token, has hundreds of thousands
of disciples? If on review of the spiritualistic papers and pamphlets we
find them full of vague wanderings and wild and purposeless flights of
fancy, can we help pitying that craving of the human soul which all this
represents and so imperfectly supplies?

The question arises, Has not the Protestant religion neglected to
provide some portion of the true spiritual food of the human soul, and
thus produced this epidemic craving? It is often held to be a medical
fact that morbid appetites are the blind cry of nature for something
needed in the bodily system which is lacking. The wise nurse or mother
does not hold up to ridicule the poor little culprit who secretly picks
a hole in the plastering that he may eat the lime; she considers within
herself what is wanting in this little one's system, and how this lack
shall be more judiciously and safely supplied. If it be phosphate of
lime for the bones which nature is thus blindly crying for, let us give
it to him more palatably and under more attractive forms.

So with the epidemic cravings of human society. The wise spiritual
pastor or master would inquire what is wanting to these poor souls that
they are thus with hungry avidity rushing in a certain direction,
and devouring with unhealthy eagerness all manner of crudities and
absurdities.

May it not be spiritual food, of which their mother, the Church, has
abundance, which she has neglected to set before them?

Now, if we compare the religious teachings of the present century with
those of any past one, we shall find that the practical spiritualistic
belief taught by the Bible has to a great extent dropped out of it.

Let us begin with the time of Jesus Christ. Nothing is more evident
in reading his life than that he was acting all the time in view of
_unseen_ and spiritual influences, which were more pronounced and
operative to him than any of the _visible_ and materialistic phenomena
of the present life. In this respect the conduct of Christ, if
imitated in the present day, would subject a man to the imputation of
superstition or credulity. He imputed things to the direct agency of
invisible spirits acting in the affairs of life, that we, in the same
circumstances, attribute only to the constitutional liabilities of the
individual acted upon by force of circumstances.

As an example of this, let us take his language toward the Apostle
Peter. With the habits of modern Christianity, the caution of Christ to
Peter would have been expressed much on this fashion: "Simon, Simon,
thou art impulsive, and liable to be carried away with sudden
impressions. The Jews are about to make an attack on me which will
endanger thee."

This was the exterior view of the situation, but our Lord did not take
it. He said, "Simon, Simon, Satan hath desired to have thee that he may
sift thee as wheat; but I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail
not." This Satan was a person ever present in the mind of Christ. He
was ever in his view as the invisible force by which all the visible
antagonistic forces were ruled. When his disciples came home in triumph
to relate the successes of their first preaching tour, Christ said, "I
beheld Satan as lightning fall from heaven." When the Apostle Peter
rebuked him for prophesying the tragical end of his earthly career,
Christ answered not him, but the invisible spirit whose influence over
him he recognized: "Get thee behind me, Satan! Thou art an offense unto
me."

When the Saviour's last trial approached, he announced the coming crisis
in the words, "The prince of this world cometh, and hath nothing in me."
When he gave himself into the hands of the Sanhedrim, he said, "This is
your hour and that of the powers of darkness." When disputing with the
unbelieving Jews, he told them that they were of their father, the
devil; that he was a murderer from the beginning, and abode not in the
truth; that when he spoke a lie he spoke of his own, for he was a liar,
and the father of lies.

In short, the life of Christ, as viewed by himself, was not a conflict
with enemies _in the flesh_, but with an invisible enemy, artful,
powerful, old as the foundations of the world, and ruling by his
influences over evil spirits and men in the flesh.

The same was the doctrine taught by the Apostles. In reading the
Epistles we see in the strongest language how the whole visible world
was up in arms against them. St. Paul gives this catalogue of his
physical and worldly sufferings, proving his right to apostleship mainly
by perseverance in persecution. "In labors more abundant, in stripes
above measure, in prisons more frequent, in deaths oft; of the Jews five
times received I forty stripes save one; thrice was I beaten with rods,
once was I stoned; thrice have I suffered shipwreck--a night and a day
have I been in the deep. In journeyings often, in perils of water, in
perils of robbers, in perils by mine own countrymen, in perils by the
heathen, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils
among false brethren."

One would say with all this, there was a sufficient array of physical
and natural causes against St. Paul to stand for something. In modern
language--yea, in the language of good modern Christians--it would be
said "What is the use of taking into account any devil or any invisible
spirits to account for Paul's trials and difficulties?--it is enough
that the whole world has set itself against what he teaches--Jew and
Gentile are equally antagonistic to it."

But St. Paul says in the face of all this, "We are not wrestling with
flesh and blood, but with principalities and powers and the leaders of
the darkness of this world, and against wicked spirits in high places;"
and St. Peter, recognizing the sufferings and persecutions of the early
Christians, says, "Be sober, be vigilant." Why? "Because your adversary,
the devil, as a roaring lion, goeth about seeking whom he may devour."

In like manner we find in the discourses of our Lord and the Apostles
the recognition of a counteracting force of good spirits. When
Nathaniel, one of his early disciples, was astonished at his spiritual
insight, he said to him, "Thou shalt see greater things than these!
Hereafter ye shall see heaven open, and angels of God ascending and
descending on the Son of man." When he spoke of the importance of little
children, he announced that each one of them had a guardian angel who
beheld the face of God. When he was transfigured on the Mount, Moses and
Elijah appeared in glory, and talked with him of his death that he was
to accomplish at Jerusalem. In the hour of his agony in the garden, an
angel appeared and ministered to him. When Peter drew a sword to defend
him, he said, "Put up thy sword. Thinkest thou that I can not now pray
to my Father, and he will give me more than twelve legions of angels?"

Thus, between two contending forces of the invisible world was
Christianity inaugurated. During the primitive ages the same language
was used by the Fathers of the church, and has ever since been
traditional.

But we need not say that the fashion of modern Protestant theology and
the custom of modern Protestant Christianity have been less and less of
this sort.

We hear from good Christians, and from Christian ministers, talk of this
sort: A great deal is laid to the poor devil that he never thought of.
If men would take care of their own affairs the devil will let them
alone. We hear it said that there is no _evidence_ of the operation
of invisible spirits in the course of human affairs. It is all a mere
matter of physical, mental, and moral laws working out their mission
with unvarying certainty.

But is it a fact, then, that the great enemy whom Christ so constantly
spoke of is dead? Are the principalities and powers and rulers of the
darkness of this world, whom Paul declared to be the real opponents that
the Christian has to arm against, all dead? If that great enemy whom
Christ declared the source of all opposition to himself is yet living,
with his nature unchanged, there is as much reason to look for his
action behind the actions of men and the vail of material causes as
there was in Christ's time; and if the principalities and powers and
rulers of the darkness of this world, that Paul speaks of, have not
died, then they are now, as they were in his day, the _principal_ thing
the Christian should keep in mind and against which he should arm.

And, on the other hand, if it is true, as Christ declared, that every
little child in him has a guardian angel, who always beholds the
Father's face; if, as St. Paul says, it is true that the angels all are
"ministering spirits sent forth to minister to those who shall be heirs
of salvation," then it follows that every one of us is being constantly
watched over, cared for, warned, guided, and ministered to by invisible
spirits.

Now let us notice in what regions and in what classes of mind the modern
spiritualistic religion has most converts.

To a remarkable degree it takes minds which have been denuded of all
faith in spirits; minds which are empty, swept of all spiritual belief,
are the ones into which any amount of spirits can enter and take
possession.

That is to say, the human soul, in a state of starvation for one of its
normal and most necessary articles of food, devours right and left every
marvel of modern spiritualism, however crude.

The old angelology of the Book of Daniel and the Revelation is poetical
and grand. Daniel sees lofty visions of beings embodying all the grand
forces of nature. He is told of invisible princes who rule the destiny
of nations! Michael, the guardian prince of the Jews, is hindered
twenty-one days from coming, at the prayer of Daniel, by the conflicting
princes of Media and Persia. In the New Testament, how splendid is the
description of the angel of the resurrection! "And behold, there was a
great earthquake, and the angel of the Lord descended from heaven and
came and rolled back the stone from the door and sat upon it! His
countenance was as the lightning, and his raiment white as snow, and
for fear of him the keepers did shake and become as dead men." We have
here spiritualistic phenomena worthy of a God--worthy our highest
conceptions--elevated, poetic, mysterious, grand!

And communities, and systems of philosophy and theology, which have
explained all the supernatural art of the Bible, or which are always
apologizing for it, blushing for it, ignoring and making the least they
can of it--such communities will go into spiritualism by hundreds and
by thousands. Instead of angels, whose countenance is as the lightning,
they will have ghosts and tippings and tappings and rappings. Instead
of the great beneficent miracles recorded in Scripture, they will have
senseless clatterings of furniture and breaking of crockery. Instead of
Christ's own promise, "He that keepeth my commandments, I will love him
and manifest _myself_," they will have manifestations from all sorts of
anonymous spirits, good, bad, and indifferent.

Well, then, what is the way to deal with spiritualism? Precisely what
the hunter uses when he stands in the high, combustible grass and sees
the fire sweeping around him on the prairies. He sets fire to the grass
all around him, and it burns _from_ instead of _to_ him, and thus he
fights fire with fire. Spiritualism, in its crudities and errors, can be
met only in that way. The true spiritualism of the Bible is what will be
the only remedy for the cravings of that which is false and delusive.

Some years ago the writer of this, in deep sorrow for the sudden death
of a son, received the following letter from a Roman Catholic priest,
in a neighboring town. He was a man eminent for holiness of life and
benevolence, and has since entered the rest of the blessed.

  DEAR MADAM: In the deep affliction that has recently visited you I
  implore you to remember well that there is a communion of spirits of
  the departed just, which death can not prevent, and which, with
  prayer, can impart much consolation. This, with the condolence of
  every parent and child in my flock, I beg leave to offer you,
  wishing, in the mean time, to assure you of my heartfelt regret and
  sympathy.

  Yours, very truly,       JAMES O'DONNELL,
                     Catholic Pastor, Lawrence.

What is this communion which death can not prevent, and which with
prayer can impart consolation? It is known in the Apostles' Creed as

  "THE COMMUNION OF SAINTS."

When it is considered what social penalties attach to the profession of
this faith, one must admit that only some very strong cause can induce
persons of standing and established reputation openly to express beliefs
of this kind. The penalty is loss of confidence and being reputed of
unsound mind. It is not an easy thing to profess belief in anything
which destroys one's reputation for sanity, yet undoubtedly this is the
result.

It must also be admitted that most of the literature which has come into
existence in this way is of a doubtful and disreputable kind, and of a
tendency to degrade rather than elevate our conceptions of a spiritual
state.

Yet such is the hunger, the longing, the wild craving of the human soul
for the region of future immortality, its home-sickness for its future
home, its perishing anguish of desire for the beloved ones who have
been torn away from it, and to whom in every nerve it still throbs and
bleeds, that professed words and messages from that state, however
unworthy, are met with a trembling agony of eagerness, a willingness to
be deceived, most sorrowful to witness.

But any one who judges of the force of this temptation merely by what is
published in the _Banner of Light_, and other papers of that class, has
little estimate of what there is to be considered in the way of existing
phenomena under this head.

The cold scientists who, without pity and without sympathy, have
supposed that they have had under their dissecting knives the very
phenomena which have deluded their fellows, mistake. They have not seen
them, and in the cold, unsympathizing mood of science, they never can
see them. The experiences that have most weight with multitudes who
believe more than they dare to utter, are secrets deep as the grave,
sacred as the innermost fibers of their souls--they can not bring their
voices to utter them except in some hour of uttermost confidence and to
some friend of tried sympathy. They know what they have seen and what
they have heard. They know the examinations they have made they know the
inexplicable results, and, like Mary of old, they keep all these sayings
and ponder them in their hearts. They have no sympathy with the vulgar,
noisy, outward phenomena of tippings and rappings and signs and
wonders. They have no sympathy with the vulgar and profane attacks on
the Bible, which form part of the utterances of modern seers; but they
can not forget, and they can not explain things which in sacred solitude
or under circumstances of careful observation have come under their
own notice. They have no wish to make converts--they shrink from
conversation, they wait for light; but when they hear all these things
scoffed at, they think within themselves--Who knows?

We have said that the strong, unregulated, and often false
spiritualistic current of to-day is a result of the gradual departure
of Christendom from the true supernaturalism of primitive ages. We have
shown how Christ and his Apostles always regarded the invisible actors
on the stage of human existence as more powerful than the visible ones;
that they referred to their influence over the human spirit and over the
forces of nature, things which modern rationalism refers only to natural
laws. We can not illustrate the departure of modern society from
primitive faith better than in a single instance--a striking one.

The Apostles' Creed is the best formula of Christian faith--it is common
to the Greek, the Roman, the Reformed Churches, and published by our
Pilgrim Fathers in the New England Primer in connection with the
Assembly's Catechism. It contains the following profession:

  "I believe in the Holy Ghost; the Holy Catholic Church; the
  Communion of Saints; the Forgiveness of Sins," etc.

In this sentence, according to Bishop Pearson on the Creed, are
announced four important doctrines: 1. The Holy Ghost; 2. The Holy
Catholic Church; 3. The Communion of Saints; 4. The Forgiveness of Sins.

To each one of these the good Bishop devotes some twenty or thirty pages
of explanation.

But it is customary with many clergymen in reading to slur the second
and third articles together, thus: "I believe in the Holy Catholic
Church, the communion of saints"--that is to say, I believe in the Holy
Catholic Church, which is the communion of saints.

Now, in the standard edition of the English Prayer Book, and in all the
editions published from it, the separate articles of faith are divided
by semicolons--thus: "The Holy Ghost; The Holy Catholic Church; The
Communion of Saints." But in our American editions the punctuation is
altered to suit a modern rationalistic idea--thus: "The Holy Catholic
Church, the Communion of Saints."

The doctrine of the Communion of Saints, as held by primitive
Christians, and held still by the Roman and Greek Churches, is thus
dropped out of view in the modern Protestant Episcopal reading.

But what is this doctrine? Bishop Pearson devotes a long essay to it,
ending thus:

  Every one may learn by this what he is to understand by this part of
  the article in which he professeth to believe in the Communion of
  Saints.

Thereby he is conceived to express thus much:

  "I am fully persuaded of this, as a necessary and infallible truth,
  that such persons as are truly sanctified in the Church of Christ,
  while they live in the crooked generations of men and struggle with
  all the miseries of this world, have fellowship with God the Father,
  God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost ... that they partake of the
  kindness and care of the blessed angels who take delight in
  ministrations for their benefit, that ... they have an intimate
  union and conjunction with all the saints on earth as being members
  of Christ; NOR IS THIS UNION SEPARATED BY THE DEATH OF ANY, but they
  have communion with all the saints who, from the death of Abel, have
  departed this life in the fear of God, and now enjoy the presence of
  the Father, and follow the Lamb whithersoever he goeth.

  "_And thus I believe in the Communion of Saints._"

Now, we appeal to the consciences of modern Christians whether this
statement of the doctrine of the Communion of Saints represents the
doctrine that they have heard preached from the pulpit, and whether it
has been made practically so much the food and nourishment of their
souls as to give them all the support under affliction and bereavement
which it certainly is calculated to do?

Do they really believe themselves to partake in their life-struggle
of the kindness and care of the blessed angels who take delight in
ministrations for their benefit? Do they believe they are united by
intimate bonds with all Christ's followers? Do they believe that the
union is not separated by the death of any of them, but that they have
communion with all the saints who have departed this life in the faith
and now enjoy the presence of the Father?

Would not a sermon conceived in the terms of this standard treatise
excite an instant sensation as tending toward the errors of
Spiritualism? And let us recollect that the Apostles' Creed from which
this is taken was as much a standard with our Pilgrim Fathers as the
Cambridge Platform.

If we look back to Cotton Mather's Magnalia, we shall find that the
belief in the ministration of angels and the conflict of invisible
spirits, good and evil, in the affairs of men, was practical and
influential in the times of our fathers.

If we look at the first New England Systematic Theology, that of Dr.
Dwight, we shall find the subject of Angels and Devils and their
ministry among men fully considered.

In the present theological course at Andover that subject is wholly
omitted. What may be the custom in other theological seminaries of the
present day we will not say.

We will now show what the teaching and the feeling of the primitive
church was on the subject of the departed dead and the ministrations of
angels. In _Coleman's Christian Antiquities_, under the head of Death
and Burial of the Early Christians, we find evidence of the great and
wide difference which existed between the Christian community and all
the other world, whether Jews or heathen, in regard to the vividness of
their conceptions of immortality. The Christian who died was not counted
as lost from their number--the fellowship with him was still unbroken.
The theory and the practice of the Christians was to look on the
departed as no otherwise severed from them than the man who has gone
to New York is divided from his family in Boston. He is not within the
scope of the senses, he can not be addressed, but he is the same person,
with the same heart, still living and loving, and partners with them of
all joys and sorrows.

But while they considered personal identity and consciousness unchanged
and the friend as belonging to them, as much after death as before,
they regarded his death as an advancement, an honor, a glory. It was
customary, we are told, to celebrate the day of his death as his
birth-day--the day when he was born to new immortal life. Tertullian,
who died in the year 220 in his treatise called the _Soldier's
Chaplet_, says: "We make anniversary oblations for the dead--for their
birth-days," meaning the day of their death. In another place he says,
"It was the practice of a widow to pray for the soul of her deceased
husband, desiring on his behalf present refreshment or rest, and a part
in the first resurrection," and offering annually for him oblation on
the day of his _falling asleep_. By this gentle term the rest of the
body in the grave was always spoken of among Christians. It is stated
that on these anniversary days of commemorating the dead they were used
to make a feast, inviting both clergy and people, but especially the
poor and needy, the widows and orphans, that it might not only be a
memorial of rest to the dead, but a memorial of a sweet savor in the
sight of God.

A Christian funeral was in every respect a standing contrast to the
lugubrious and depressing gloom of modern times. Palms and olive
branches were carried in the funeral procession, and the cypress
was rejected as symbolizing gloom. Psalms and hymns of a joyful and
triumphant tone were sung around the corpse while it was kept in the
house and on the way to the grave. St. Chrysostom, speaking of funeral
services, quotes passages from the psalms and hymns that were in common
use, thus:

  "What mean our psalms and hymns? Do we not glorify God and give him
  thanks that he hath crowned him that has departed, that he hath
  delivered him from trouble, that he hath set him free from all fear?
  Consider what thou singest at the time. 'Turn again to thy rest, O
  my soul, for the Lord hath rewarded thee;' and again: 'I will fear
  no evil because thou art with me;' and again: 'Thou art my refuge
  from the affliction that compasseth me about.' Consider what these
  psalms mean. If thou believest the things which thou sayest to be
  true, why dost thou weep and lament and make a pageantry and a mock
  of thy singing? If thou believest them _not_ to be true, why dost
  thou play the hypocrite so much as to sing?"

Coleman says, also:

  "The sacrament of the Lord's Supper was administered at funerals and
  often at the grave itself. By this rite it was professed that the
  communion of saints was still perpetuated between the living and the
  dead. It was a favorite idea that both still continued members of
  the same mystical body, the same on earth and in heaven."--_Antiq.,
  p. 413._

Coleman says, also, that the early Christian utterly discarded all the
Jewish badges and customs of mourning, such as sackcloth and ashes and
rent garments, and severely censured the Roman custom of wearing black.

  St. Augustine says: "Why should we disfigure ourselves with black,
  unless we would imitate unbelieving nations, not only in their
  wailing for the dead, but also in their mourning apparel? Be
  assured, these are foreign and unlawful usages."

  He says, also: "Our brethren are not to be mourned for being
  liberated from this world when we know that they are not _om_itted
  but _pre_mitted, receding from us only that they may precede us, so
  that journeying and voyaging before us they are to be _desired_ but
  not lamented. Neither should we put on black raiment for them when
  they have already taken their white garments; and occasion should
  not be given to the Gentiles that they should rightly and justly
  reprove us, that we grieve over those as extinct and lost who we say
  are now alive with God, and the faith that we profess by voice and
  speech we deny by the testimony of our heart and bosom."

Are not many of the usages and familiar forms of speech of modern
Christendom a return to old heathenism? Are they not what St. Augustine
calls a repudiation of the Christian faith? The black garments, the
funeral dreariness, the mode of speech which calls a departed friend
lost--have they not become the almost invariable rule in Christian life?

So really and truly did the first Christians believe that their friends
were still one with themselves, that they considered them even in their
advanced and glorified state a subject of prayers.

Prayer for each other was to the first Christians a reality. The
intimacy of their sympathy, the entire oneness of their life, made
prayer for each other a necessity, and they prayed for each other
instinctively as they prayed for themselves. So, St. Paul says "_Always_
in _every_ prayer of mine making request for you always with joy."
Christians are commanded without ceasing to pray for each other. As
their faith forbade them to consider the departed as lost or ceasing to
exist, or in any way being out of their fellowship and communion, it did
not seem to them strange or improper to yield to that impulse of the
loving heart which naturally breathes to the Heavenly Father the name of
its beloved. On the contrary, it was a custom in the earliest Christian
times, in the solemn service of the Eucharist, to commend to God in a
memorial prayer the souls of their friends _departed_, but not _dead_.
In Coleman's _Antiquities_, and other works of the same kind, many
instances of this are given. We select some:

Arnobius, in his treatise against the heathen writers, probably in 305,
speaking of the prayers offered after the consecration of the elements
in the Lord's Supper, says "that Christians prayed for pardon and peace
in behalf of the living and dead." Cyril, of Jerusalem, reports the
prayer made after consecrating the elements in Holy Communion in these
words:

  "We offer this sacrifice in memory of those who have fallen asleep
  before us, first patriarchs, prophets, apostles, and martyrs, that
  God by their prayers and supplications may receive our supplications
  and those we pray for, our holy fathers and bishops, and all that
  have fallen asleep before us, believing it is of great advantage to
  their souls to be prayed for while the holy and tremendous sacrifice
  lies upon the altar."

A memorial of this custom has come into the Protestant Church in the
Episcopal Eucharistic service where occur these words: "And we also
bless thy Holy Name for all thy servants departed this life in thy faith
and fear, beseeching Thee to give us grace so to follow their good
examples, that we with them may be partakers of thy Heavenly Kingdom."
It will be seen here the progress of an idea, its corruption and its
reform.

The original idea with the primitive Christian was this: "My friend is
neither dead nor changed. He is only gone before me, and is promoted to
higher joy; but he is still mine and I am his. Still can I pray for him,
still can he pray for me; and as when he was here on earth we can be
mutually helped by each other's prayers."

Out of this root--so simple and so sweet--grew idolatrous exaggerations
of saint worship and a monstrous system of bargain and sale of prayers
for the dead. The Reformation swept all this away--and, as usual with
reformations, swept away a portion of the primitive truth--but it
retained still the Eucharistic memorial of departed friends as a
fragment of primitive simplicity.

The Church, furthermore, appointed three festivals of commemoration of
these spiritual members of the great Church Invisible with whom they
held fellowship--the festivals of All Souls, of All Angels, of All
Saints.

Two of these are still retained in the Episcopal Church the feast of
St. Michael and All Angels, and the feast of All Saints. These days
are derived from those yearly anniversaries which were common in the
primitive ages.

[Here we have a formal deprecation of the tendency of modern orthodoxy
to withdraw from what was once regarded as a proper religious belief and
sentiment, and which modern Spiritualists warmly accept, and make one of
the chief grounds for their doctrine of intercommunication between the
departed dead and the living. We expect to give our readers other papers
by Mrs. Stowe in continuation of her discussion on the subject.

       *       *       *       *       *

In the following letter, or extract from a letter, from Mr. Andrew
Jackson Davis, one of the leading lights and exponents of Spiritualism
at the present day, we have a voice from the _inside_, furnishing some
information with regard to the state of spiritualistic affairs in
America, and some of the expected results of the movement.]

"Spiritualism, for the most part, is a _shower_ from the realm of
intelligences and uncultured affections. It is rapidly irrigating and
fertilizing everything that has root and the seed-power to grow. It
is starting up the half-dead trees of Sectarianism, causing the most
miserable weeds to grow rapid and rank, and of course, attracting very
general attention to religious feelings and super-terrene existences.

"As an effect of this spiritualistic rain, you may look for an
immense harvest of both wheat and tares--the grandest growths in great
principles and ideas on the one hand, and a fearful crop of crudities
and disorganizing superstitions on the other. There will be seen
floating on the flood many of our most sacred institutions. Old
wagon-ruts, long-forgotten cow-tracks, every little hole and corner in
the old highways, will be filled to the brim with the rain. You will
hardly know the difference between the true springs and the flowing
mud-pools visible on every side. Many noble minds will stumble as they
undertake to ford the new streams which will come up to their very
door-sills, if not into their sacred and established habitations.
Perhaps lives may be lost; perhaps homes may be broken up; perhaps
fortunes may be sacrificed; for who ever heard of a great flood, a storm
of much power, or an earthquake, that did not do one, or two, or _all_
of these deplorable things? Spiritualism is, indeed, all and everything
which its worst enemies or best friends ever said of it;--a great rain
from heaven, a storm of violence, a power unto salvation, a destroyer
and a builder too--each, and all, and everything good, bad, and
indifferent; for which every one, nevertheless, should be thankful, as
eventually all will be when the evil subsides, when the severe rain is
over, and the clouds dispersed--when even the blind will see with new
eyes, the lame walk, and the mourners of the world be made to rejoice
with joy unspeakable.

"Of course, my kind brother, you know that I look upon 'wisdom'
organized into our daily lives, and 'love' inspiring every heart, as the
only true heaven appointed saviour of mankind. And all spiritual growth
and intellectual advancement in the goodnesses and graces of this
redeemer I call an application of the Harmonial Philosophy. But I find,
as most likely you do, that it is as hard to get the Spiritualists to
become Harmonial Philosophers as to induce ardent Bible-believers to
daily practice the grand essentials which dwell in the warm heart of
Christianity."

       *       *       *       *       *

It is not long since the writer was in conversation with a very
celebrated and popular minister of the modern Church, who has for
years fulfilled a fruitful ministry in New England. He was speaking of
modern Spiritualism as one of the most dangerous forms of error--as an
unaccountable infatuation. The idea was expressed by a person present
that it was after all true that the spirits of the departed friends were
in reality watching over our course and interested in our affairs in
this world.

The clergyman, who has a fair right, by reason of his standing and
influence to represent the New England pulpit, met that idea by a prompt
denial. "A pleasing sentimental dream," he said, "very apt to mislead,
and for which there is no scriptural and rational foundation." We have
shown in our last article what the very earliest Christians were in
the habit of thinking with regard to the unbroken sympathy between the
living and those called dead, and how the Church by very significant and
solemn acts pronounced them to be not only alive, but alive in a fuller,
higher, and more joyful sense than those on earth.

We may remember that among the primitive Christians the celebration of
the Lord's Supper was not as in our modern times a rare and unfrequent
occurrence, coming at intervals of two, three, and even six months, but
that it occurred every Sunday, and on many of the solemn events of life,
as funerals and marriages, and that one part of the celebration always
consisted in recognizing by a solemn prayer the unbroken unity of the
saints below and the saints in heaven. We may remember, too, that it was
a belief among them that angels were invisibly present, witnessing and
uniting with the eucharistic memorial--a belief of which we still have
the expression in that solemn portion of the Episcopal communion service
which says, "Wherefore with angels and archangels, and with all the
company of heaven, we laud and magnify thy Holy Name."

This part of the eucharistic service was held by the first Christians
to be the sacred and mysterious point of confluence when the souls of
saints on earth and the blessed in heaven united. So says Saint
Chrysostom:

  "The seraphim above sing the holy Trisagion hymn; the holy
  congregation of men on earth send up the same; the general assembly
  of celestial and earthly creatures join together; there is one
  thanksgiving, one exultation; one choir of men and angels rejoicing
  together."

And in another place he says:

  "The martyrs are now rejoicing in concert, partaking of the mystical
  songs of the heavenly choir. For if while they were in the body
  whenever they communicated in the sacred mysteries they made part of
  the choir, singing with the cherubim, 'holy, holy, holy,' as ye all
  that are initiated in the holy mysteries know; much more now, being
  joined with those whose partners they were in the earthly choir,
  they do with greater freedom partake of those solemn glorifications
  of God above."

The continued identity, interest and unbroken oneness of the departed
with the remaining was a topic frequently insisted on among early
Christian ministers--it was one reason of the rapid spread of
Christianity. Converts flocked in clouds to the ranks of a people who
professed to have vanquished death--in whose inclosure love was forever
safe, and who by so many sacred and solemn acts of recognition consoled
the bereaved heart with this thought, that their beloved, though
unseen, was still living and loving--still watching, waiting, and caring
for them.

Modern rationalistic religion says: "We do not know anything about
them--God has taken them: of them and their estate we know nothing:
whether they remember us, whether they know what we are doing, whether
they care for us, whether we shall ever see them again to know them, are
all questions vailed in inscrutable mystery. We must give our friends up
wholly and take refuge in God."

But St. Augustine, speaking on the same subject, says:

  "Therefore, if we wish to hold communion with the saints in eternal
  life we must think much of imitating them. They ought to recognize
  in us something of their virtues, that they may better offer their
  supplications to God for us. These [virtues] are the foot-prints
  which the blessed returning to their country have left, that we
  shall follow their path to joy. Why should we not hasten and run
  after them that we too may see our fatherland? There a great crowd
  of dear ones are awaiting us, of parents, brethren, children, a
  multitudinous host are longing for us--now secure of their own
  safety, and anxious only for our salvation."

Now let us take the case of some poor, widowed mother, from whose heart
has been torn an only son--pious, brave, and beautiful--her friend, her
pride, her earthly hope--struck down suddenly as by a lightning stroke.
The physical shock is terrible--the cessation of communion, if the
habits of intercourse and care, if the habit, so sweet to the Christian,
of praying for that son, must all cease. We can see now what the
primitive Church would have said to such a mother: "Thy son is _not_
dead. To the Christian there is no death--follow his footsteps, imitate
his prayerfulness and watchfulness, and that he may the better pray for
thee, keep close in the great communion of saints." Every Sabbath would
bring to her the eucharistic feast, when the Church on earth and the
Church in heaven held their reunion, where "with angels and archangels,
and all the company of heaven," they join their praises! and she
might feel herself drawing near to her blessed one in glory. How
consoling--how comforting such Church fellowship!

A mother under such circumstances would feel no temptation to resort to
doubtful, perplexing sources, to glean here and there fragments of that
consolation which the Church was ordained to give. In every act of life
the primitive Church recognized that the doors of heaven were open
through her ordinances and the communion of love with the departed blest
unbroken.

It has been our lot to know the secret history of many who are not
outwardly or professedly Spiritualists--persons of sober and serious
habits of thought, of great self-culture and self-restraint, to whom it
happened after the death of a friend to meet accidentally and without
any seeking or expecting on their part with spiritualistic phenomena of
a very marked type. These are histories that never will be unvailed to
the judgment of a scoffing and unsympathetic world; that in the very
nature of the case must forever remain secret; yet they have brought to
hearts bereaved and mourning that very consolation which the Christian
Church ought to have afforded them, and which the primitive Church so
amply provided.

In conversation with such, we have often listened to remarks like this:
"I do not seek these things--I do not search out mediums nor attend
spiritual circles. I have attained all I wish to know, and am quite
indifferent now whether I see another manifestation." "And what," we
inquired, "is this something that you have attained?" "Oh, I feel
perfectly certain that my friend is not dead--but alive, unchanged, in
a region of joy and blessedness, expecting me, and praying for me, and
often ministering to me."

Compare this with the language of St. Augustine, and we shall see that
it is simply a return to the stand-point of the primitive Church.

Among the open and professed Spiritualists are some men and women of
pure and earnest natures, and seriously anxious to do good, and who
ought to be distinguished from the charlatans who have gone into it
merely from motives of profit and self-interest. Now it is to be
remarked that this higher class of spiritualists, with one voice,
declare that the subject of spiritual communication is embarrassed with
formidable difficulties. They admit that lying spirits often frequent
the circle, that they are powerful to deceive, and that the means of
distinguishing between the wiles of evil spirits and the communications
of good ones are very obscure.

This, then, is the prospect. The pastures of the Church have been
suffered to become bare and barren of one species of food which the
sheep crave and sicken for the want of. They break out of the inclosure
and rush, unguided, searching for it among poisonous plants, which
closely resemble it, but whose taste is deadly.

Those remarkable phenomena which affect belief upon this subject are
not confined to paid mediums and spiritual circles, so called. They
sometimes come of themselves to persons neither believing in them,
looking for them, nor seeking them. Thus coming they can not but
powerfully and tenderly move the soul. A person in the desolation of
bereavement, visited with such experiences, is in a condition which
calls for the tenderest sympathy and most careful guidance. Yet how
little of this is there to be found! The attempt to unvail their history
draws upon them, perhaps, only cold ridicule and a scarcely suppressed
doubt of their veracity. They are repelled from making confidence where
they ought to find the wisest guidance, and are drawn by an invisible
sympathy into labyrinths of deception and error--and finally, perhaps,
relapse into a colder skepticism than before. That such experiences
are becoming common in our days, is a fact that ought to rouse true
Christians to consideration, and to searching the word of God to find
the real boundaries and the true and safe paths.

We have stated in the last article, and in this, what the belief and the
customs of the primitive Christians were in respect to the departed. We
are aware that it does not follow, of course, that a custom is to be
adopted in our times because the first Christians preached and taught
it. A man does not become like his ancestors by dressing up in their old
clothes--but by acting in their _spirit_. It is quite possible to wear
such robes and practice such ceremonies as the early Christians did
and not to be in the least like them. Therefore let us not be held as
advocating the practice of administering the eucharist at funerals, and
of praying for the dead in the eucharistic service, because it was done
in the first three centuries. But we do hold to a return to the _spirit_
which caused these customs. We hold to _that belief_ in the unbroken
unity possible between those who have passed to the higher life than
this. We hold to that vivid faith in things unseen which was the
strength of primitive Christians. The first Christians _believed_ what
they said they did--we do not. The unseen spiritual world, its angels
and archangels, its saints and martyrs, its purity and its joys, were
ever before them, and that is why they were such a mighty force in the
world. St. Augustine says that it was the vision of the saints gone
before that inspired them with courage and contempt of death--and it is
true.

In another paper we shall endeavor to show how far these beliefs of the
primitive Church correspond with the Holy Scripture.




DR. DODDRIDGE'S DREAM

  [In concluding these Psychological discussions, what is there more
  appropriate than the following? If it be called only a dream, or,
  even a delusion, what harm can come of it? Is it not in keeping with
  Scripture teachings, as now interpreted? For ourselves, we enjoy our
  own opinions on subjects not susceptible of proof to the external
  senses. Others may do the same. EDITOR.]


Dr. Doddridge was on terms of very intimate friendship with Dr.
Samuel Clarke, and in religious conversation they spent many happy
hours together. Among other matters, a very favorite topic was the
intermediate state of the soul, and the probability that at the instant
of dissolution it was introduced into the presence of all the heavenly
hosts, and the splendors around the throne of God. One evening, after a
conversation of this nature, Dr. Doddridge retired to rest, and "in the
visions of the night" his ideas were shaped into the following beautiful
form.

He dreamed that he was at the house of a friend, when he was taken
suddenly and dangerously ill. By degrees he seemed to grow worse, and at
last to expire. In an instant he was sensible that he had exchanged the
prison-house and sufferings of mortality for a state of liberty and
happiness. Embodied in a slender, aerial form, he seemed to float in a
region of pure light. Beneath him lay the earth, but not a glittering
city or a village, the forest or the sea were visible. There was naught
to be seen below save the melancholy group of his friends, weeping
around his lifeless remains. Himself thrilled with delight, he was
surprised at their tears, and attempted to inform them of his happy
change, but by some mysterious power, utterance was denied; and as he
anxiously leaned over the mourning circle, gazing fondly upon them and
struggling to speak, he rose silently upon the air, their forms became
more and more indistinct, and gradually melted away from his sight.
Reposing upon golden clouds, he found himself swiftly mounting the
skies, with a venerable figure at his side, guiding his mysterious
movements, and in whose countenance he discovered the lineaments of
youth and age blended together, with an intimate harmony and majestic
sweetness.

They traveled together through a vast region of empty space, until, at
length, the battlements of a glorious edifice shone in the distance, and
as its form rose brilliant and distinct among the far-off shadows that
flitted athwart their path, the guide informed him that the palace he
beheld was, for the present, to be his mansion of rest. Gazing upon its
splendor, he replied that while on earth he had often heard that eye
had not seen, nor ear heard, nor could the heart of man conceive,
the things which God hath prepared for those who love him; but
notwithstanding the building to which they were rapidly approaching was
superior to anything he had before beheld, yet its grandeur had not
exceeded the conceptions he had formed. The guide made no reply--they
were already at the door, and entered. The guide introduced him into a
spacious apartment, at the extremity of which stood a table, covered
with a snow-white cloth, a golden cup, and a cluster of grapes, and then
said that he must leave him, but that _he_ must remain, for in a short
time he would receive a visit from the lord of the mansion, and that
during the interval before his arrival, the apartment would furnish him
sufficient entertainment and instruction. The guide vanished, and he
was left alone. He began to examine the decorations of the room, and
observed that the walls were adorned with a number of pictures. Upon
nearer inspection he perceived, to his astonishment, that they formed a
complete biography of his own life. Here he saw depicted, that angels,
though unseen, had ever been his familiar attendants; and sent by God
they had sometimes preserved him from imminent peril. He beheld himself
first represented as an infant just expiring, when his life was
prolonged by an angel gently breathing into his nostrils. Most of the
occurrences delineated were perfectly familiar to his recollection, and
unfolded many things which he had never before understood, and which had
perplexed him with many doubts and much uneasiness. Among others he was
particularly impressed with a picture in which he was represented as
falling from his horse, when death would have been inevitable had not
an angel received him in his arms and broken the force of his descent.
These merciful interpositions of God filled him with joy and gratitude,
and his heart overflowed with love as he surveyed in them all an
exhibition of goodness and mercy far beyond all that he had imagined.

Suddenly his attention was arrested by a knock at the door. The lord of
the mansion had arrived--the door opened and he entered. So powerful and
overwhelming, and withal of such singular beauty was his appearance,
that he sank down at his feet, completely overcome by his majestic
presence. His lord gently raised him from the ground, and taking his
hand led him forward to the table. He pressed with his fingers the juice
of the grapes into the golden cup, and after having himself drank,
he presented it to him, saying, "This is the new wine in my Father's
kingdom." No sooner had he partaken than all uneasy sensations vanished,
perfect love had now cast out fear, and he conversed with the Saviour as
an intimate friend. Like the silver rippling of a summer sea he heard
fall from his lips the grateful approbation: "Thy labors are finished,
thy work is approved; rich and glorious is the reward." Thrilled with
an unspeakable bliss, that pervaded the very depths of his soul, he
suddenly saw glories upon glories bursting upon his view. The Doctor
awoke. Tears of rapture from this joyful interview were rolling down his
cheeks. Long did the lively impression of this charming dream remain
upon his mind, and never could he speak of it without emotions of joy,
and with tender and grateful remembrance.




BRAIN AND MIND;

OR,

MENTAL SCIENCE CONSIDERED IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE PRINCIPLES OF
PHRENOLOGY,

AND

IN RELATION TO MODERN PHYSIOLOGY.

  By HENRY S. DRAYTON, A.M., M.D., and JAMES MCNEILL, A.B. Illustrated
  with over 100 Portraits and Diagrams. 12mo, extra cloth, $1.50.

  This contribution to the science of mind has been made in response
  to the demand of the time for a work embodying the grand principles
  of Phrenology, as they are understood and applied to-day by the
  advanced exponents of mental philosophy, who accept the doctrine
  caught by Gall, Spurzheim, and Combe.

The following, from the Table of Contents, shows the scope of the work:

  General Principles; Of the Temperaments; Structure of the Brain and
  Skull; Classification of the Faculties; The Selfish Organs; The
  Intellect; The Semi-Intellectual Faculties; The Organs of the
  Social Functions; The Selfish Sentiments; The Moral and Religious
  Sentiments; How to Examine Heads; How Character is Manifested; The
  Action of the Faculties; The Relation of Phrenology to Metaphysics
  and Education; Value of Phrenology as an Art; Phrenology and
  Physiology; Objections and Confirmations by the Physiologists;
  Phrenology in General Literature.

NOTICES OF THE PRESS.

  "Phrenology is no longer a thing laughed at. The scientific
  researches of the last twenty years have demonstrated the fearful
  and wonderful complication of matter, not only with mind, but with
  what we call moral qualities. Thereby, we believe, the divine origin
  of 'our frame' has been newly illustrated, and the Scriptural
  psychology confirmed; and in the Phrenological Chart we are disposed
  to find a species of 'urim and thummim,' revealing, if not the
  Creator's will concerning us, at least His revelation of essential
  character. The above work is, without doubt, the best popular
  presentation of the science which has yet been made. It confines
  itself strictly to facts, and is not written in the interest of any
  pet 'theory.' It is made very interesting by its copious
  illustrations, pictorial and narrative, and the whole is brought
  down to the latest information on this curious and suggestive
  department of knowledge."--_Christian Intelligencer, N. Y._

  "Whether a reader be inclined to believe Phrenology or not, he must
  find the volume a mine of interest, gather many suggestions of the
  highest value, and rise from its perusal with clearer views of the
  nature of mind and the responsibilities of human life. The work
  constitutes a complete text-book on the subject."--_Presbyterian
  Journal, Philadelphia._

  "In 'Brain and Mind' the reader will find the fundamental ideas on
  which Phrenology rests fully set forth and analyzed, and the science
  clearly and practically treated. It is not at all necessary for the
  reader to be a believer in the science to enjoy the study of the
  latest exposition of its methods. The literature of the science is
  extensive, but so far as we know there is no one book which so
  comprehensively as 'Brain and Mind' defines its limits and treats of
  its principles so thoroughly, not alone philosophically, but also in
  their practical relation to the everyday life of man."--_Cal.
  Advertiser._

In style and treatment it is adapted to the general reader, abounds with
valuable instruction expressed in clear, practical terms, and the work
constitutes by far the best Text-book on Phrenology published, and is
adapted to both private and class study.

The illustrations of the Special Organs and Faculties are for the most
part from portraits of men and women whose characters are known, and
great pains have been taken to exemplify with accuracy the significance
of the text in each case. For the student of mind and character the work
is of the highest value. By mail, postpaid, on receipt of price, $1.50.
Address,

FOWLER & WELLS CO., Publishers, 753 Broadway, N. Y.




[Illustration: 6. Combativeness. 3. Friendship.]

THE PHRENOLOGICAL JOURNAL


is widely known in America and Europe, having been before the reading
world fifty years, and occupying a place in literature exclusively its
own, viz.: the study of =Human Nature=.

It has long met with the approval of the press and the people, and
as a means of introducing the JOURNAL and extending an interest in
the subject, we have prepared a new =Phrenological Chart=. This is a
handsome lithograph of a symbolical head, in which the relative location
of each of the organs is shown by special designs illustrating the
function of each in the human mind.

These sketches are not simply outlines, as shown above, but many of them
are little gems of artistic design and coloring in themselves, and will
help the student to locate the faculties and to impress his mind with a
correct idea of their prime functions.

For instance, =Combativeness= is represented by a scene in a
lawyer's office, where a disagreement has led to an angry dispute;
=Secretiveness= is shown by a picture of the cunning fox attempting to
visit a hen-roost by the light of the moon; the teller's desk in a bank
represents =Acquisitiveness=; a butcher's shop is made to stand for
=Destructiveness=; the familiar scene of the "Good Samaritan" exhibits
the influence of =Benevolence=; =Sublimity= is pictured by a sketch of
the grand scenery of the Yosemite Valley.

The Chart also contains a printed Key, giving the names and definitions
of the different faculties. The whole picture is very ornamental, and
must prove a feature of peculiar attraction wherever it is seen; nothing
like it for design and finish being elsewhere procurable.

It is mounted with rings for hanging on the wall, and will be
appropriate for the home, office, library, or school. The head itself is
about twelve inches wide, beautifully lithographed in colors, on heavy
plate paper, about 19 x 24 inches. Price, $1.00. It is published and
offered as a special premium for subscribers to the =Phrenological
Journal= for 1885. To those who prefer it, we will send the
Phrenological Bust as a premium. The Journal is published at $2.00 a
year, with 15 cents extra required when the Chart or Bust is sent.
Single Number, 20 cents. Address


FOWLER & WELLS CO., Publishers, 753 Broadway, N. Y.




Transcriber's Note


Words in italics have been surrounded with _underscores_ and bold words
with =signs=. Small capitals have been changed to all capitals.

Some of the section titles in the Table of Contents are different from
the ones in the main text. This has not been changed.

One of the page numbers in the Table of Contents has been changed from
"82" to "81". A few punctuation errors have been corrected without note.
Also the following changes have been made, on page

   49 "griovous" changed to "grievous" (for the accusing of several
      persons of a grievous crime)
  110 "Prostestant" changed to "Protestant" (the custom of modern
      Protestant Christianity have been)
  119 "occurence" changed to "occurrence" (a rare and unfrequent
      occurrence, coming at intervals)
  119 "occured" changed to "occurred" (but that it occurred every
      Sunday).

Otherwise the original was preserved, including archaic spelling and
inconsistent hyphenation.