FIENDS, GHOSTS, AND SPRITES. (continued 2)

The trouble and annoyance from the spectres had now reached so serious a pitch that, by the advice of a maternal uncle, Kiartan instituted judicial measures against the spectres.

"A tribunal being then constituted, with the usual legal solemnities, a charge was preferred by Kiartan against Thorer with the wooden leg, by Thordo Kausa against Thorodd, and by others chosen as accusers against the individual spectres present, accusing them of molesting the mansion, and introducing death and disease among its inhabitants. All the solemn rites of judicial procedure were observed on this singular occasion; evidence was adduced, charges given, and the cause formally decided. It does not appear that the ghosts put themselves on their defence, so that sentence of ejectment was pronounced against them individually in due and legal form. When Thorer heard the judgment, he arose, and saying, 'I have sat while it was lawful for me to do so,' left the apartment by the door opposite to that at which the judicial assembly was constituted. Each of the spectres, as they heard their individual sentence, left the place, saying something which indicated their unwillingness to depart, until Thorodd himself was solemnly appointed to depart. 'We have here no longer,' said he, 'a peaceful dwelling, therefore will we remove.' Kiartan then entered the hall with his followers, and the priest, with holy water, and celebration of a solemn mass, completed the conquest over the goblins, which had been commenced by the power and authority of the Icelandic law."

The spectral phenomena of the ancient Swedish folk-lore differs in no respect from the current histories of recent date. An interesting example of this is found in the beautiful ballad of Sir Ulf and Lady Sölfverlind.

Sir Ulf was a nobleman who had married a wife from a foreign country. After they had lived together eight years, and had had a family of three children, the Lady Sölfverlind died. In a short time he married again, and by his second wife, the Lady Stineborg, he had also several children. This lady, however, proved a cruel step-mother; for, as the ballad reads:—

The ghost-belief of Hindostan is one of the most important of the popular superstitions of that country. It differs from that of more westerly countries in the degree of reality with which the natives have invested it; for while the former look upon the interference of the spirits of the dead in the events of ordinary life as a circumstance of rare occurrence, and regard manifestations of this nature with an awe befitting their solemnity and supernatural character, the latter lives in an atmosphere of spectral beings, which are the spirits of those who have lived a wicked life on earth, and retain their malignant disposition unabated after death, if indeed it is not increased in intensity by the devil-like nature they assume, and exercise their evil powers in all the affairs of life, haunting the localities which they previously inhabited, and terrifying and tormenting alike friend and foe. Neither are their terrors confined to mere occasional apparition, and to the fear excited by this, but to the power which they possess of interference by physical force; for they belabour with blows, or grievously affect with bodily ailments, the unhappy individuals whom they haunt, and often subject to inexpressible tortures those who have had the ill-hap to offend them. Hence the Hindoo dreads a ghost not so much on account of its supernatural character, abstractedly considered, as for the physical evil it may inflict upon him.

The ghosts of the wicked, and of the unmarried (as it is thought in some provinces), are alone permitted to wander on earth, and they have a partiality, like our own ghosts, for frequenting solitary places, woods, caverns, and ruins, from which they issue to exercise their baleful powers on man.

Sometimes a ghost will haunt a certain house, or a plot of ground, and become so obstreperous, that the occupier of the house is obliged to desert it, and the proprietor of the land to allow it to become waste. But it has happened that if the spirit was that of an old proprietor, a deed executed in its name has appeased it, and it has no more troubled the place.

These spirits are called, in the Deccan, Vîrikas, and in the more southerly parts of India, Paisâchi. It is customary to erect small shrines to them, formed of a pile of stones, on the top of which is a sheltered cavity, containing an image, or a rough, shapeless stone, to which offerings of cloth, rice, &c., are presented from time to time. This propitiatory sacrifice is, in general, found to be an efficient method of obtaining immunity from the malignant pranks of the ghosts; but if it be neglected, they will visit the unfortunate sinner with torments and misfortune, or, appearing to him by night, intimate the miseries hanging over his head, unless he quickly amends himself, and offers up the necessary gifts.

Dr. Buchanan relates a story of the apparition of a Paisâchi which occurred during his journey in Mysore. His cook had been taken ill, and died; orders had been given to secure his effects for the benefit of his wife and children, "but on inspection, after his death, no money could be found. Whether he had been plundered as soon as he became insensible, and that a guilty conscience occasioned fears among his companions, or whether the sudden manner of his death occasioned suspicions, I cannot say; but it was immediately believed that he would become a Paisâchi, and all my people were filled with terror. The butler imagined that the Paisâchi appeared to him at night with a black silk handkerchief tied round its head, and gave him instructions to take all the effects of the deceased to his family; upon this, the latter, being a man of courage, put his shoes on the right side of the door, which he considered to be a sure preventive against such intruders. Next night a cattle-driver, lying in all the agonies of nocturnal terror, saw the appearance of a dog enter, and smell round the place where the man had died; when, to his utter dismay, the spectre gradually grew larger and larger, and at length, having assumed the form of the cook, vanished with a shriek. The poor man had not the courage to use the slippers, but lay till morning in a kind of stupor. After this, even the minds of the sepoys were appalled, and when I happened to be awake I heard the sentries, by way of keeping up their courage, singing with a tremulous voice."

There is a class of men called Cani, or Shaycana, who are supposed to have the power of ejecting and frightening away troublesome spirits by the performance of certain mystic ceremonies. It is requisite, first, to ascertain whether the offending ghost is that of a stranger, or if it belong to any deceased member of the family; for it would seem that much more powerful incantations are required to get rid of a family ghost, which seems to have the opinion that it has a right to haunt its relations in the flesh, than to eject the ghost of a stranger. The latter, according to Dr. Buchanan, may be got rid of for a fanam, or about ninepence sterling; the former requires expensive sacrifices and many prayers, therefore the fee is much larger.

The Chinese have a great dread of ghosts, particularly of the ghosts of those who have come to an untimely end. They suspend in their houses, for the purpose of preventing the entrance of these spirits, and of defending themselves from their influence, a cruciform piece of iron, to which is attached pieces of perforated money, the coinage of emperors who have been deified, and who are conceived to exercise a protective power over their votaries.

The superstitions of the modern Egyptians and of the Arabs are rich in ghosts.

The term éfreet is applied to the ghosts of dead persons, as well as to evil genii, by the Egyptians; and the following story, related by Mr. Lane, will illustrate the nature of this superstition as it is entertained by that people.

"I had once a humorous cook, who was somewhat addicted to the intoxicating hhasheesh: soon after he had entered my service, I heard him, one evening, muttering and exclaiming on the stairs, as if in surprise at some event; and then politely saying, "But why are you sitting here in the draught? Do me the favour to come up into the kitchen, and amuse me with your conversation a little." The civil address not being answered, was repeated and varied several times, till I called out to the man, and asked him to whom he was speaking. "The éfreet of a Turkish soldier," he replied, "is sitting on the stairs, smoking his pipe, and refuses to move; he came up from the well below: pray step and see him." On my going to the stairs, and telling the servant that I could see nothing, he only remarked that it was because I had a clear conscience. He was told afterwards that the house had long been haunted; but asserted that he had not been previously informed of the supposed cause; which was the fact of a Turkish soldier having been murdered there. My cook professed to see this éfreet frequently after."[37]

The Arabs entertain a considerable degree of fear and respect for ghosts.

Mr. Bayle St. John states that when travelling through the Libyan desert, in 1847, he saw a burial-place of the Bedouin Arabs, in the centre of which were confusedly scattered "camel-howdahs" (tachterwans), stirrups, household utensils, small ploughs, &c., which had been left there by the Arabs, when commencing a journey, under the care of the ghost of a defunct sheikh, who had been interred there.[38]

Some of the aboriginal tribes of South America believe in the occasional apparition of the souls of the dead.

Soon after the Roman Catholic mission was established at Bahia, an eclipse of the moon occurred; the savages, fully armed, rushed in terror to the mission, and when the priest inquired the cause of their alarm, they responded that the moon was the abode of the souls of the dead, and that on that night they had collected there in such numbers that they darkened its surface: this was a sure sign of evil.

Such is a brief sketch of the ghost-belief of several nations, ancient and modern.

This belief, in its essential characteristics, was the same in the remote periods of antiquity as in more recent times; and a similar analogy exists between the modifications of it which are now entertained in different and widely separated countries.

The variations which it is found to possess are dependent upon those peculiarities of habit, religion, and social life which characterize each nation. This fact gives an important clue by which we may unravel the actual nature of the phenomena which are embodied in the belief. But previously to entering upon this task it is requisite to point out a remote consequence of mythological and legendary lore which exercises a highly important influence on the minds of most if not all persons at the present time.

The numerous myths which were retained, the implicit faith reposed in them, and the great extent to which the practice of the occult sciences was carried in the Middle Ages, fostered ideas respecting the influence which supernatural beings exercised in the ordinary affairs of life, which rivalled in extent and variety those entertained before the Christian era; but they received perhaps a more gloomy character from the doctrine of the agency of devils.

The prevalence of these superstitions throws a wild and weird-like shadow over the history of those periods, and one of the chief results was that the records of local and general events became pregnant with mysterious occurrences and supernatural interpositions; and a mass of legends, teeming with remnants of ancient myths, more or less modified, giants, demons, witches, wizards, ghosts, portents, &c., have been perpetuated to modern times, and have formed an inexhaustible mine to the novelist and romance-writer.

There are few localities in England which do not possess legends or tradition of this nature; and the standard nursery and children's tales are full of supernatural personages and occurrences in which are set aside all the known laws of matter and force, and time and space are alike annihilated. Many of these tales are of great interest, for in them we find degenerated forms of some of the most ancient traditions and myths of our own and other races.

The adventures of Jack the Giant-Killer, the most celebrated of all celebrated nursery heroes, are for the most part derived from the fabulous era of our own country, and from Scandinavian mythology; and the whole tale is a degraded and vitiated tradition in which the deeds of Corineus, a celebrated personage in the mythical history of Britain, and Prince Arthur; the adventures of Thor, the god of thunder, and other Scandinavian deities, are jumbled together in strange confusion.

Geoffrey of Monmouth, in his British History[39] states that the early inhabitants of this island were giants. Brutus, a grandson of Ascanius, the companion of Æneas in his flight from Troy, and Corineus, also of Trojan descent, guided by a dream, discovered Britain, and delighted with "the pleasant situation of the place, the plenty of rivers abounding with fish, and the engaging prospect of its woods," they became desirous of fixing their habitation in so desirable a country, and landing, drove the giants into the fastnesses of the mountains, and divided the country.

To Corineus was apportioned that part of the island which we call Cornwall, and it is recorded that he had selected this portion of the island for his share, because "it was a diversion to him to encounter the said giants, which were in greater numbers there than in all the other provinces that fell to the share of his companions."

Corineus is described as being "an ardent man in matters of council, and of great courage and boldness; who in an encounter with any person, even of gigantic stature, would immediately overthrow him as if he were a child."

In the same fabulous history (B. X, ch. 3) it is stated, that a giant who had invaded our shores, and taken refuge at the top of St. Michael's Mount, was attacked by King Arthur in the night and killed; the country being thus freed "from a most destructive and voracious monster."

Some of Jack's principal adventures are derived from the ancient Eddas and Sagas of Scandinavia.

The incident which represents Jack as having overheard a giant, upon whose hospitality he had intruded, muttering—

and in which he had evaded the catastrophe by placing a log of wood in the bed, he lying quietly in a corner, while the giant furiously beat with his club the inanimate object, thinking to dash him to pieces; and the delightfully cool response of Jack to the wonder-struck giant when he beheld him safe and sound in the morning, and inquired if he had not been disturbed in the night,—"No, nothing worth mentioning, I believe a rat struck me with his tail two or three times:"—this incident is a modification of an adventure which occurred to Thor on his journey to the land of giants, and it is found in some form or other in the folk-lore of every nation in the north of Europe.

Thor, while journeying to the land of giants, met with one of that race named Skrymir. They formed a companionship, and the whole of the provisions were placed in the giant's wallet. At night, when they stopped to rest, Skrymir at once lay down and fell asleep, previously handing the wallet to Thor in order that he might refresh himself. Thor was unable to open it, and wroth with the giant for his apparent insensibility and the mode in which he had tied the knots, he seized his mighty hammer and flung it at the giant's head. Skrymir awaking, asked whether a leaf had fallen on his head, and then he fell asleep again. Thor again struck him with his hammer, and it apparently sank deep into his skull; and the giant again awoke, and asked, "Did an acorn fall on my head? How fares it with thee, Thor?" Thor, incensed beyond measure, waited until the giant again slept, and then exerting all his power, dashed his hammer at the head of the sleeping monster, into which it sank up to the handle. Skrymir, rising up, rubbed his cheek and said, "Are there any birds perched on this tree? Methought, when I awoke, some moss from the branches fell on my head."

Skrymir, distrusting Thor, had before he slept interposed a huge rock betwixt himself and the god, and upon this Thor had unwittingly exercised his strength.

The adventure in which Jack is represented as outwitting a giant in eating, by placing his food in a large leathern receptacle beneath his vesture, and then ripping it up, and defying the giant to do the same, whereupon the giant seizes a knife, plunges it into his breast and kills himself, is contained also in stories which are prevalent among the Swedes, Norwegians, Germans, Servians, and Persians.

The Swedish version is as follows:—"In the evening, when the giant and his boy were about to sup, the crone placed a large dish of porridge before them. "That would be excellent," said the boy, "if we were to try which could eat the most, father or I." The giant was ready for the trial, and they began to eat with all their might. But the boy was crafty: he had tied his wallet before his chest, and for every spoonful that entered his mouth, he let two fall into the wallet. When the giant had despatched seven bowls of porridge, he had taken his fill, and sat puffing and blowing, and unable to swallow another spoonful; but the boy continued with just as much good-will as when he began. The giant asked him how it was, that he who was so little could eat so much. "Father, I will soon show you: when I have eaten as much as I can contain, I slit up my stomach, and then I can take in as much again." Saying these words, he took a knife and ripped up the wallet, so that the porridge ran out. The giant thought this a capital plan, and that he would do the like. But when he stuck the knife in his stomach, the blood began to flow, and the end of the matter was that it proved his death."[40]

The sword of sharpness, and the cloak which rendered the wearer invisible, and by the aid of which Jack won so many important victories, are two of the principal supernatural elements in the Nibelungenlied. In this ancient legend, which contains the same tragical story as the still more ancient Scandinavian poem, the Völundar-Kvida, the sword "Balmurg" is described:—

and the cloud-cloak which Siegfried took from the dwarf Albric, is pourtrayed as—

The story of Cinderella, or the Glass Slipper, is of great antiquity, and versions of it are found in many countries.

Ælian, who lived about A.D. 225, relates that, as Rhodope, a celebrated Greek courtezan, who had been carried into Egypt, was bathing one day, an eagle carried off one of her slippers, and as it flew over Memphis, where king Psammetichus was at that time sitting in tribunal, it let fall the sandal into his bosom. Astonished at the occurrence, and at the smallness of the sandal, he caused inquiries to be made for its owner, whom, when he had discovered, he married.

Old versions of this story are found in Norway, Germany, Sweden, Denmark, France, Italy, Wallachia, Servia, Russia, Poland, and Wales.[42]

In Jack and the Bean-stalk, the bean is evidently a version of the ash Ygdrasil of the Edda, reaching from hell to heaven; and the golden hen, harp, &c., are familiar features in northern stories.

Puss in Boots, the Seven-league Boots, &c., have their prototypes in Scandinavian folk-lore; and the two last-mentioned tales, as well as others, are probably of considerable antiquity.

Tales derived from these sources and composed of such elements, and fables in which beasts, birds, and fishes are represented as speaking and reasoning in a manner that puts man to the blush, are among the earliest things engrafted in the infant mind; and ever now

Ideas of mysterious and supernatural powers, vague, undefined, and frightful, are thus instilled into the child, and influence it unchecked and uncontrolled by the Scriptural doctrines of the invisible which are taught to it. At first the two trains of thought derived from these antithetical sources go on separately and distinctly; the more frightful and wonderful events of legendary lore and fable having a much greater influence, and forming a deeper impression on the mind of the child, whose reasoning powers are still in abeyance to the emotions, than the Scriptural doctrines of the supernatural. As it advances in years these trains of thought insensibly blend; the more rampant absurdities of the supernatural framework of legendary and ghost-lore are discarded; but the less obvious and more insidious portions remain to a greater or less extent, and they are so graven in the mind, that they become part and parcel of it, and in whatever manner they may be subsequently modified in form, it is probable that they are never eradicated, but form a medium which gives a false and deceptive gloss to all our ideas upon those matters which are not immediately within the ken of reason, or which are more clearly attributable to other agency than the forces of the material word—such matters, for example, as are contained in Holy Writ.

Hence our ideas of the supernatural are derived from two sources—from legendary lore and from Scripture; and this results, that although in after-life the more glaring errors and absurdities of the former are removed, those only being retained which are thought to be compatible with Holy Writ, yet the idea of the supernatural thus obtained, foreign from revelation, is retained in a vague and undefined form, and its origin and sources being lost sight of, it is regarded as an innate consciousness of the existence of supernatural beings, and prompts to the ready reception and belief of mysterious and not readily explicable phenomena being the result of supernatural agency.

That proclivity to the belief in supernatural interpositions, that vague notion of spiritual beings, that so-called innate consciousness of the existence of the supernatural, which most persons possess more or less of, and which is totally inconsistent with the clear and perfect doctrine of the invisible taught in the Gospel, is, we believe, derived solely from the infant mind and earlier periods of youth being poisoned by the supernatural events and phenomena detailed in fabulous, legendary, and ghost-lore.[43]

This substratum of superstition is the prime cause of the retention of those figments of degenerated and christianized mythology which are yet found among us, and for the persistence of the most generally received of these figments—ghosts. It is also a highly important element in the formation of that state of the mind which is from time to time manifested in singular and wide-spreading delusions respecting the communication of the spirit-world with man, and of which we have examples before us at the present time in the prevalent follies of "spirit-rapping" and "table-talking."

The belief in ghosts does not now possess those glaring features which were attached to it at the commencement of the present century, hence it is less obtrusive; but it is very far from being extinguished, as some would teach, and its "etiology" is of interest, because it leads to the elucidation of the principal causes and sources of the fallacies to which the senses of man are subject, and by which he has been led in the remotest periods of antiquity, as well as at the present time, to frame those mighty trammels of superstition from which the mind in vain strives to disentangle itself completely.

The doctrine that the spirits of the dead return to visit the scenes which were dear to them during the body's existence, is in itself awfully solemn and sublime. Man, prone to believe in supernatural interpositions (from causes already explained), and trusting altogether to the evidence of his senses, for many ages received this doctrine unquestioned; and aided by a fertile imagination, he clothed it with attributes which, although absurd in the main, yet as appealing to some of the deepest and warmest affections and passions of our nature, cannot even now be contemplated without exciting sensations of awe, if not fear.

The thought that the spirits of those who, during life, were bound to us by the closest ties of affection, are ever near, scrutinizing our actions and thoughts, and prompting us ever and anon to that course which would most tend to our profit here and our joy hereafter[44]—shielding us, like guardian angels, from the wiles of those wandering spirits who, like the "Wicked One" that came softly up to Christian in the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and "whisperingly suggested many grievous blasphemies to him, which he verily thought had proceeded from his own mind,"[45] seek to tempt us to destruction,—such a thought thrills through the soul of every one, and fills it with strange and undefined emotions of blended joy and fear.

Few can free themselves altogether from the emotion of terror which is almost necessarily connected with scenes polluted by murder, or by other outbreaks of man's foulest passions. This feeling acting on the minds of the superstitious and ignorant, has led them to people with spectres all those places which have obtained notoriety from being the scene of some terrible ebullition of human frailty and wickedness.

Thus, the glen where murder had been committed; the pond in which the mother had immersed her new-born infant; the hoary ruin pregnant with horrid legends of the past; the rocks over which the inebriated drunkard fell; the four cross roads where the suicide was impaled; the dwelling of the miser, or of him who did unjustly to the orphan; and the willow-banks of the still-flowing river into which the love-lorn maiden had cast herself,—each had its spectre, and at the midnight hour the ghost of the murdered bared to the moon the mementos of its foul and most unnatural end; the spectre of the murderer, writhing in agony, rattled its gibbet-chains; the suffocating sobs of the drowning infant were borne on the fitful breeze; hideous spectres hovered o'er the deserted ruin; the ghost of the miser guarded its quondam treasures; the cruel guardian and the suicide shrieked forth the agonies of the damned; and the phantom of the deceived maiden gliding on the banks of her watery grave, mingled its plaintive wails with each sough of the midnight wind.

But, alas! this prolific source of terror and romance must be consigned to the delusions of the past; and the churchyard—erst pregnant with "thin-sheeted phantoms"—is now also shorn of its gloomy horrors, and regarded alone as the last quiet resting-place of man on earth.

Even when glimpses of the spirit-world are vouchsafed to those who still firmly believe in occasional visitations from its inhabitants, it would seem that the fashion of their appearance has become more in accordance with the quiet well-regulated ideas of the age. The major part of those terrible attributes of the nether world, that of old were delighted in, are no longer exhibited, and they are numbered with the things that have been. The form which appertained to Satan himself—the cloven foot, the forked tail, the hirsute frame, and the horned head—must also vanish before the march of civilisation; hence Mephistopheles, in the "Faust" of Goëthe, is represented as saying:—

The phenomena upon which the belief of the occasional manifestation of disembodied spirits to man is founded, may be accounted for without having recourse to the doctrine of supernatural interposition.

Our senses and our reasoning powers are apt to err. We may deceive ourselves, and are liable to be deceived by an erroneous appreciation of the sensations which we receive from the objects surrounding us—illusions—but of the nature of which we may readily convince ourselves.

Illusions of the sight may arise either from an error of judgment, or from a disordered state of the eye.

Of those illusions arising from an error of judgment, perhaps none bear directly upon our subject. Examples of this kind of illusion are the broken appearance of a stick partially immersed in water; the apparent movement of trees, houses, &c., past a train in motion, or the banks of a river past a steamboat.

Illusions arising from a disordered condition of the eye, prompting the imagination, are a prolific source of ghost-seeing.

In the obscurity of the evening, or during the darkness of the night (particularly on those nights which are cloudy, and the darkness seems to rest on the ground), the difficulty with which we distinguish any object to which the attention is directed, is liable to induce a disordered state of the eye, the effects of which are very startling.

"The imperfect view which we obtain of such objects forces us to fix the eye more steadily upon them; but the more exertion we make to ascertain what they are, the greater difficulties do we encounter to accomplish our object. The eye is actually thrown into a state of the most painful agitation, the object will swell and contract, and partly disappear, and it will again become visible when the eye has recovered from the delirium into which it has been thrown."[46]

This illusion is increased by a disturbed condition of the pupil of the eye.

The pupil is surrounded by a muscle called the iris, by the contraction and dilatation of which the size of the opening is increased or diminished, and a greater or less amount of light admitted to the eye. On a dark night, or during the twilight, the pupil is dilated to its utmost extent, so that every available ray of light may enter. In this condition the eye is not able to accommodate itself to near objects, and they become more indistinct; shadowy, and confused.

Under these circumstances, an object to which the attention is strongly attracted, may appear to assume strange variations in form,—now increasing, now diminishing in size, now approaching nearer, now going further off, or anon disappearing altogether; and a bush, a guide-post, a stoop, &c., will seem as though it assumed the most startling changes in size and appearance. Add the effects of the imagination, and we shall at once perceive a source of the various goblins, boggards, and other strange sights which have been supposed to haunt many of our byeways and deserted places.

To illustrate this form of illusion: a man with whom we were acquainted tells the following tale:—When young, he, one evening, had a quarrel with his mother about some trifling affair, and in defiance of her grief and supplications he left home late at night, intending to enter the army. It was very dark and stormy, and as he proceeded along a bye-path, suddenly a tall object arrested his attention; startled, he stood still, when, to his utter horror and astonishment, the object increased in size, and seemed as though about to pounce upon him; it then vanished, and anon appeared again. Terrified beyond measure, and conceiving that Satan had waylaid him for forsaking his mother, the poor man fell on his knees, and exclaimed: "O good Lord Devil, do not take me, and I'll go back to my mother, and be a good lad!" It is unnecessary to dwell upon the goggle eyes burning with flames which he imagined Satan to possess; suffice it that he remained before the supposed devil some time, overcome with terror, when a blink of the rising moon showed that he was laid at the foot of the stump of a tree. Heartily ashamed of his fear, he rose up, slunk back home, and made peace with his mother.[47]

This will suffice as an example of the most degraded form of ghost-life with which our highways and byeways have been peopled by the superstitious and illiterate,—illusions which have arisen from the effects of a disturbed condition of the visual organ on an excited imagination. Burns humorously describes this variety of ghost in his "Address to the Deil:"

Another form of illusion is induced by objects seen indistinctly when the mind is disturbed and pre-occupied by some powerful and painful emotion.

"A lady was once passing through a wood, in the darkening twilight of a stormy evening, to visit a friend who was watching over a dying child. The clouds were thick, the rain beginning to fall; darkness was increasing; the wind was moaning mournfully through the trees. The lady's heart almost failed her as she saw that she had a mile to walk through the woods in the gathering gloom. But the reflection of the situation of her friend forbade her turning back. Excited and trembling, she called to her aid a nervous resolution, and pressed onward. She had not proceeded far, when she beheld in the path before her the movement of some very indistinct object. It appeared to keep a little distance in advance of her, and as she made efforts to get nearer to see what it was, it seemed proportionally to recede. The lady began to feel rather unpleasantly. There was some pale white object certainly discernable before her, and it appeared mysteriously to float along at a regular distance without any effort at motion. Notwithstanding the lady's good sense and unusual resolution, a cold chill began to come over her; she made every effort to resist her fears, and soon succeeded in drawing nearer the mysterious object, when she was appalled at beholding the features of her friend's child, cold in death, wrapt in its shroud. She gazed earnestly, and then it remained distinct and clear before her eyes. She considered it a monition that her friend's child was dead, and that she must hasten on to her aid; but there was the apparition directly in her path; she must pass it. Taking up a little stick, she forced herself along to the object, and behold, some little animal scampered away. It was this that her excited imagination had transformed into the corpse of an infant in its winding-sheet."[48]

Sir Walter Scott relates an interesting case of illusion occasioned by an accidental arrangement of some articles of clothing:—

"Not long after the death of a late illustrious poet, who had filled, while living, a great station in the eye of the public, a literary friend, to whom the deceased had been well known, was engaged, during the darkening twilight of an autumn evening, in perusing one of the publications which professed to detail the habits and opinions of the distinguished individual who was now no more. As the reader had enjoyed the intimacy of the deceased to a considerable degree, he was deeply interested in the publication, which contained some particulars relating to himself and other friends. A visitor was sitting in the apartment who was also engaged in reading. Their sitting-room opened into an entrance-hall rather fantastically fitted up with articles of armour, skins of wild animals, and the like. It was when laying down his book, and passing into this hall, through which the moon was beginning to shine, that the individual of whom I speak saw, right before him, and in a standing position, the exact representation of his departed friend, whose recollection had been so strongly brought to his imagination. He stopped for a single moment, so as to notice the wonderful accuracy with which fancy had impressed upon the bodily eye the peculiarities of dress and posture of the illustrious poet. Sensible, however, of the delusion, he felt no sentiment save that of wonder at the extraordinary accuracy of the resemblance, and stepped onwards towards the figure, which resolved itself, as he approached, into the various materials of which it was composed. These were merely a screen, occupied by great-coats, shawls, plaids, and such other articles as usually are found in a country entrance-hall. The spectator returned to the spot from which he had seen the illusion, and endeavoured, with all his power, to recall the image which had been so singularly vivid. But this was beyond his capacity; and the person who had witnessed the apparition, or, more properly, whose excited state had been the means of raising it, had only to return, and tell the young friend he had left, under what a striking hallucination he had for a moment laboured."[49]

The liability to illusion or hallucination in that transitional state of the mind when it reverts to surrounding objects, after it has been pre-occupied with some absorbing and intense thought, is very strikingly shown in the above case. It is very similar to that condition of the mind which obtains between sleeping and waking, when it is well known that our dreams are most vivid and brilliant.

Dr. Ferriar relates the following interesting case of illusion occasioned by a ray of moonlight acting upon the mind of an individual just awaking from a horrid dream.

"A gentleman was benighted while travelling alone in a remote part of the highlands of Scotland, and was compelled to ask shelter for the night at a small lonely hut. When he was conducted to his bedroom, the landlady observed with mysterious reluctance, that he would find the window very insecure. On examination, part of the wall appeared to have been broken down to enlarge the opening. After some inquiry, he was told, that a pedlar, who had lodged in the room a short time before, had committed suicide, and was found hanging behind the door in the morning.

"According to one of the superstitions of the country, it was deemed improper to remove the body through the door of the house; and to convey it through the window was impossible without removing part of the wall. Some hints were dropped that the room had been subsequently haunted by the poor man's spirit.

"My friend laid his arms, properly prepared against intrusion of any kind, by the bedside, and retired to rest, not without some degree of apprehension. He was visited in a dream by a frightful apparition, and awaking in agony, found himself sitting up in bed with a pistol grasped in his right hand. On casting a fearful glance round the room, he discovered, by the moonlight, a corpse dressed in a shroud, leaned against the wall close by the window. With much difficulty he summoned up resolution to approach the dismal object, the features of which, and the minutest parts of the funeral apparel, he perceived distinctly. He passed one hand over it, felt nothing, and staggered back to the bed. After a long interval, and much reasoning with himself, he renewed his investigation, and at length discovered that the object of his terrors was produced by the moonbeams forming a long bright image through the broken window, on which his fancy, impressed by his dream, had produced with mischievous accuracy, the lineaments of a body prepared for interment."

There are some illusions which arise from certain of the laws of action of impressions on the retina—that tissue of the eye in which the changes necessary to the excitation of the sensation of light by luminous rays are induced.

A sensation excited in the retina is not momentary, or during the continuance of the exciting cause alone, but it persists some seconds after that has been withdrawn. Thus if the end of a burning stick be rapidly moved in a circle before the eyes, it gives rise to the sensation of an uninterrupted circle of light; the sensation excited on each part of the retina enduring for a certain period after the luminous point has passed.

The following instance is an example of an illusion, having relation to our subject, from this cause.

A gentleman had been earnestly regarding a small and very beautiful painting of the Virgin and Child. On turning round from the contemplation of it, he was surprised at finding a woman of the full size, with an infant in her arms, standing before him. On examining the figures more closely he, however, found that the woman wanted the lower fourth of the body, and this at once led to a correct appreciation of the nature of the phantom. The painting he had been viewing was a three-parts length, and it was the persistence of the image upon the retina for a short period after he had turned from it, which had given rise to the phantom.

A species of divination is made use of in India which has its origin in an illusion of this nature, and of which the following is an interesting example:—

A lady who was about to undertake a long journey, was persuaded by a Moonshee to walk on the verandah and consult her fate.

"It was a clear calm night, the moon was full, and not the faintest speck in the sky disturbed her reign. The Ganges was like a flood of silver light, hastening on in charmed silence; while on the green smooth sward on which they walked a tall shrub here and there stood erect and motionless. The young lady, whose impressions were probably deepened by the mystical words of the Moonshee, felt a kind of awe stealing over her; she looked round upon the accustomed scene as if in some new and strange world; and when the old man motioned her to stop, as they reached an open space on the sward, she obeyed with an indescribable thrill.

"'Look there,' said he, pointing to her shadow, which fell tall and dark upon the grass. 'Do you see it?'

"'Yes,' said she faintly, yet beginning to be ashamed. 'How sharply defined are its edges! It looks like something you could touch!'

"'But look longer, look better, look steadfastly. Is it still definite?'

"'A kind of halo begins to gather round it: my eyes dazzle.'

"'Then raise them to the heavens; fix them on yonder blue sky. What do you see?'

"'I see it still; but it is as white as mist, and of a gigantic size.'

"'Has it a head?' asked the Moonshee in an anxious whisper.

"'Yes, it is complete in all its parts; but now it melts—floats—disappears.'

"'Thank God!' said the old man: 'your journey shall be prosperous, such is the will of Heaven.'"[50]

When a steady gaze is maintained upon an object until the retina is exhausted, which is shown by the imperfect vision, or "dazzling," and the eyes are then suddenly directed away from it to an uniformly coloured surface, an image of the object, from the persistence of the impression, as already stated, will still remain for a short period upon the retina; but another phenomenon is also observed, for the exhausted condition of the retina renders it incapable of responding, during its continuation, to the impression of the original colour of the object, and the spectrum appears of a different colour. To this spectral colour the term complementary or accidental is applied; and if the colour of the object be red, the complementary colour will be green; if yellow, deep purple; if black, white, &c., and vice versâ. Thus then the spectral apparition witnessed in the above relation receives a ready and intelligible explanation.

The sense of hearing is also subject to illusions: for example, when a timid person mistakes the rustling of leaves in a forest for the voices of robbers; or the soughing of the wind among the trees, in some place of evil repute, for the moaning of a wandering and unhappy spirit.

The varied and undefined noises often produced by the wind when sweeping over an irregular surface, among rocks and trees, on the surface of water, in forests, or secluded and deep glens; and the mysterious sounds occasioned by the rushing of the water in the hollows and caverns of a rock-bound coast, have been fertile sources of illusion among the superstitious.

The ancient Romans listening to the inexplicable sounds which assailed the ear in solitary and wooded places, fabled that they were the voices of the wood deities, or as Lucretius beautifully expresses it:—

As the winds swept over the wild heaths of the north, or roared amid the mountain passes, bearing upon their bosom the heavy mantling clouds which enwreathed the ghosts of the heroes of old, often in their varied tones did the ancient Celt conceive that he heard the voices of the dead; and he who was stricken with misery deemed that his forefathers called upon him to hasten to the land of shadows. "The ghosts of fathers," they say, "call away the souls of their race while they behold them lonely in the midst of woe." Or when an eddy of wind sweeping into the hall awoke a cadence of music as it played over the strings of the harps suspended there, the hearers shrunk as the notes thrilled through them, and fearfully whispered that the ghosts of the dead touched the strings, and asked whose death of all the mighty the ghostly music portended. "The harps of the bards, untouched, sound mournful over the hill."[52]

The supernatural framework of many legends depends upon illusions of the hearing of a similar character.

At Crosmere, near Ellesmere, in Shropshire, there is a tradition that a chapel once stood on the borders of the lake, and it was long believed that when the waters were ruffled by the wind the sound of the bells might be heard beneath the surface; and an old story records that, long ago, a church and village were entombed by an earthquake, near the spot where Raleigh, in Nottinghamshire, now stands; and that at Christmas, even now, the bells may be heard solemnly tolling deep in the bosom of the earth.

Among the Cornish miners a very singular superstition prevails, which is due to the sounds occurring in old and deserted workings, from the dropping of water and other causes. These noises are supposed to be produced by certain spirits, which are termed "Knockers," and, according to the author of "Yeast; a Problem," the miners hold that "they are the ghosts of the old Jews that crucified our Lord, and were sent for slaves by the Roman Emperors to work the mines; and we find their old smelting-houses, which we call Jews' houses, and their blocks, at the bottom of the great bogs, which we call Jews' tin; and there is a town among us, too, which we call Market Jew, but the old name was Marazion, that means the Bitterness of Zion, they tell me; and bitter work it was for them, no doubt, poor souls! We used to break into the old shafts and adits which they had made, and find old stags'-horn pickaxes that crumbled to pieces when we brought them to grass. And they say that, if a man will listen of a still night about those old shafts, he may hear the ghosts of them at working, knocking, and picking, as clear as if there was a man at work in the next level."[53]

But the most common cause of illusion from sound arises from the difficulty which all more or less experience, of tracing the direction of a sound, particularly if it be indistinct. The ascertainment of the direction of a sound, and the distance of the sonorous body, is an act of judgment, and it is the result of experience. The power may be cultivated to a great extent, and many savage tribes possess it in a very high degree; but among civilized nations, where the sounds requisite to be attended to are principally of a point-blank character, and where the necessity for the cultivation of that nicety of hearing which is required in forest life does not exist, the power of distinguishing the direction and distance of sounds is very imperfect.

The intensity of the sound, and the position of the ears, contribute to the formation of a correct judgment; but if the two ears have precisely the same relation to the point from which the sound issues, as when it occurs directly before or behind, it is impossible to distinguish by the sensation alone whether the sound arises in the front or the rear.

The most familiar and striking illustration of the difficulty experienced in determining the direction of sound, is ventriloquism. By a cultivation of the power of speaking without the aid of the lips, and by keeping the muscles of the face in a state of passiveness, the ventriloquist, on giving the mind of the listener a certain leading idea, will induce him to think that he hears voices issuing from the floor, from the ceiling, from within him, or from any position but the correct one; and by a modification of the intensity of the sound, it may be made to appear as if it arose at different distances, as when voices are heard in the distance, which gradually approach the listener, come close to him, pass by, and are again lost in the distance. Although perfectly aware of the deception, there are few who can correct the impressions received, and trace them to their legitimate source.

This uncertainty of distinguishing the direction and the nature of sounds has been a prolific source of belief in supernatural occurrences, and the majority, if not all, of those mysterious noises which are so common in old houses, and which it was customary, from inability to discover their origin, to attribute to spiritual agency, have been due to this cause. The yielding of wood-work, the scouring of vermin, the sighing of the wind in chinks and crannies, have been transformed by excited and superstitious imaginations into the sighing, or whispering, or knocking of wandering ghosts, and there is, perhaps, not a town or village in England which has not at one time or other had one or more houses reputed to be haunted by incorporeal visitants who have thus announced their presence.

Sir David Brewster relates an interesting example of illusion arising from this source. "A gentleman devoid of all superstitious feelings, and living in a house free from any gloomy associations, heard, night after night, in his bedroom, a singular noise, unlike any ordinary sound to which he was accustomed. He had slept in the same room for years without hearing it, and he attributed it at first to some change of circumstances in the roof or in the walls of the room; but after the strictest examination no cause could be found for it. It occurred only once in the night; it was heard almost every night with few interruptions. It was over in an instant, and it never took place till after the gentleman had gone to bed. It was always distinctly heard by his companion, to whose time of going to bed it had no relation. It depended on the gentleman alone, and it followed him into another apartment with another bed, on the opposite side of the house. Accustomed to such investigations, he made the most diligent but fruitless search into its cause. The consideration that the sound had a special reference to him alone, operated upon his imagination, and he did not scruple to acknowledge that the recurrence of the mysterious sound induced a superstitious feeling at the moment. Many months afterwards it was found that the sound arose from the partial opening of the door of a wardrobe which was within a few feet of the gentleman's head, and which had been taken into the other apartment. This wardrobe was almost always opened before he retired to bed, and the door being a little too tight, it gradually forced itself open with a sort of dull sound, resembling the note of a drum. As the door had only started half an inch out of its place, its change of position never attracted attention. The sound, indeed, seemed to come in a different direction, and from a greater distance.

"When sounds so mysterious in their origin are heard by persons predisposed to a belief in the marvellous, their influence over the mind must be very powerful. An inquiry into their origin, if made at all, will be made more in the hope of confirming than of removing the original impression, and the unfortunate victim of his own fears will also be the willing dupe of his own judgment."[54]

Not unfrequently the difficulty of distinguishing the direction of sound has been made the basis of imposition upon the credulous; and when it is considered how readily the judgment is led into error in this respect, even when aware of the deception practised, as in ventriloquism, the easy facility with which it is imposed upon when superstitious feelings are excited, and the wide-spread delusions which have thus arisen, cannot be wondered at.

The Cock-lane ghost is a familiar example of a deception of this nature: but this, and every other delusion of a similar character, sink into insignificance before a delusion of our own day and times—Spirit-rapping.

The idea of a communication of the spiritual world with man by the intervention of raps, is not new. A writer in a recent number of "Notes and Queries,"[55] gives the following example of an early instance of this kind in England.

"Rushton Hall, near Kettering, in Northamptonshire, was long the residence of the ancient and distinguished family of Treshams. In the reign of Queen Elizabeth, the mansion was occupied by Sir Thomas Tresham, who was a pedant and a fanatic; but who was an important character in his time by reason of his great wealth and powerful connections. There is a lodge at Rushton, situate about half-a-mile from the old hall, now in ruins, but covered all over within and without with emblems of the Trinity. This lodge is known to have been built by Sir Thomas Tresham; but his precise motive for selecting this mode of illustrating his favourite doctrine was unknown until it appeared from a letter written by himself about the year 1584, and discovered in a bundle of books and papers inclosed since 1605, in a wall of the old mansion, and brought to light about twenty years ago. The following relation of a "rapping" or "knocking" is extracted from this letter:—

"If it be demanded why I labour so much in the Trinity and Passion of Christ to depaint in this chamber, this is the principal instance thereof; that at my last being hither committed"—(referring to his commitments for recusancy, which had been frequent)—"and I usually having my servants here allowed me, to read nightly an hour to me after supper, it fortuned that Fulcis, my then servant, reading in the "Christian Resolution," in the treatise of "Proof that there is a God, &c.," there was upon a wainscot table at that instant three loud knocks (as if it had been with an iron hammer) given; to the great amazing of me and my two servants, Fulcis and Nilkton."

Another example of early "spirit-rapping" is the celebrated ghost of "Old Jeffreys," at the Epworth Parsonage, during the childhood of the Revds. John and Charles Wesley.

The conception of a familiar correspondence between the spirit-world and man by means of knocks and raps is, however, an idea of modern times, and for which we are indebted to America, although it would seem that in 1835 we were on the eve of making this unenviable discovery in our own country, for the invisible cause of certain noisy disturbances in a house occupied by a Captain Molesworth at Trinity, near Edinburgh, in that year, would, it is asserted, respond to a question by knocks, if it could be answered numerically; as, for example, "How many people are there in the room?" when it would answer by as many knocks. This so-called spirit seemed at times to be drumming a certain tune. The knocks in this case had some very intimate connection with a sick girl, a daughter of Captain Molesworth; for they accompanied her, and wherever she was there they prevailed most.

In 1846, or 1847, a house in the village of Hydesville, State of New York, America, was reported to be haunted by certain noises, as knockings on the doors, panels, floors, ceilings, &c., of which the source could not be ascertained; and chairs and tables were occasionally displaced, and crockery broken by some invisible power. When the noises and disturbances first commenced, it is stated that the house was occupied by a man named Weekman; but subsequently it passed into the possession of a person called Fox, who had two daughters, Catherine and Margaretta, and during their residence in it, not only did the knockings and irregular motions of the furniture persist, but they increased in intensity, variety, and frequency of occurrence, and it was ascertained by the young women that the knocks would mimic sounds which they made, and even respond to questions put orally. A code of signals in the affirmative and negative was next arranged, and by going over the letters of the alphabet, and the affirmative signal duly occurring at certain letters, which were recorded, a system of correspondence was established with the invisible, but apparently intelligent, source of the disturbances. By this method it was ascertained that the cause of the noises, and other indications of invisible power, professed to be the spirit of a man named Charles Ryan, who, while in the flesh, had resided in that house; had been foully murdered there; the corpse interred in a certain part of the cellar; and had left a family of five children, all of whom were then alive. These revelations caused, as may well be imagined, a great sensation in the village, and, notwithstanding that no such person as Charles Ryan had ever lived there, or in that house, and that on searching the cellar carefully no remains of a corpse were found, the imposition and delusion was persisted in. It is scarcely necessary to add that as yet no one has come forward to claim kindred with the first of the disembodied spirits that held communication with man.

Several committees were appointed to investigate the matter, but they failed to ascertain the cause of the sounds, and by common consent, no natural cause being evident, it was assumed, therefore, that the cause was supernatural.

Subsequently, the Fox family removed to Rochester, and singular to say, the spirit-sounds followed them. Noises began also to be heard in other houses and towns, and it was soon found that many females, equally with the Misses Fox, possessed the power of communicating familiarly through the medium of sounds, with the spirit-world. In an almost incredibly brief space of time, this delusion swept over the United States, and multitudes from all ranks and conditions of society gave in their accession to the system of belief into which it was quickly moulded.

Certain persons only were found to possess the power of summoning the spiritual knocks at pleasure; these were principally females, and they were termed "mediums." The belief itself was spoken of under the simple term of "Spirit-rapping," and its advocates and believers as "Rappers," or "Rappites."

Each "medium," somehow or other, managed to interweave his or her own views with the spirit-revelations, and the spirits themselves did not hesitate in simple set phrase to give the lie to one another; consequently, the revelations and doctrines inculcated are somewhat varied and inconsistent. The most generally received doctrine at the present time may, however, be summed up as follows:—The "knocks," "raps," and other manifestations of invisible power, are caused by the spirits of the dead, who, by direct permission of the Almighty (according to the more religious), or by self-discovery on the part of the spirits (according to a statement made by the spirit of Benjamin Franklin), are enabled to communicate with their fellow-men by various sounds and exhibitions of physical power. This correspondence was permitted by God in consequence of the great advance which the Americans in particular, and mankind in general, had made towards perfection; and it is intimated that if the present rate of progression towards perfection continue, we shall soon be able to have intercourse by voice and sight with the spirit-world. As it is, certain persons possess these privileges in full, and the mass of Christians, if believers, have so grown in goodness that the religion of the present day—Biblical religion—is no longer needed, and Christianity is to be regarded as a state of probation that was requisite to attain the perfection now arrived at; but this transition state being passed, from the elevation of the spirit-world we can see that many of its doctrines form now a mighty and dangerous slough, in which we are in danger of being smothered.

The ideas entertained by mankind respecting spiritual existences are singularly incorrect; notwithstanding this, however, most of the spirits, as when in the body, entertain some peculiarity of doctrine, which shows that even in the "spheres" opinions are divided on this point. The most general opinion states that the spirit-world surrounds the earth, and is divided into seven spheres, which are subdivided into seven other spheres, and these again admit of still further division,—a geography evidently derived from Mahomedanism, and the old monkish legends of the septate division of hell, purgatory, and paradise. In the first of the spheres the lowest orders of spirits reside. These form the most degraded class of spirit-life, and are unhappy compared with those in the higher spheres; but the lowest degree of their unhappiness exceeds the highest degree of man's pleasures. Into this sphere pass all those who have had an unsatisfactory character on earth; while those who have been more correct in their conduct pass immediately into the sphere which approximates to their degree of goodness. The residence of any spirit in the lower spheres is not constant; for, exposed to heavenly influences, it goes on gradually improving, and as it sublimes, it ascends through the higher spheres, until at last the seventh sphere is attained, where it is fulfilled with bliss, and enters the presence of God. Hence we find St. Paul and Tom Paine, Calvin and Napoleon, Wesley and Shelley, united in friendly brotherhood. There is no hell, such as is taught in the Scriptures, and no eternal punishment, and man carries into the spirit-world his passions and propensities, and relative degrees of ignorance and knowledge. The spirit of Calvin stated that the spirits understood all languages intuitively; but this has been refuted by an immense majority of spirits, and it is certain that they know no other languages than those they were acquainted with on earth. Indeed, it is requisite to have rudimental education in our own language in heaven. "I have no friends to teach me how to spell," said a spirit named Jack Waters. Another, named Frank Copland, was unable to make any satisfactory communication, from being "an illiterate youth" when he died; and the "medium" to whom this communication was made, kindly advised the spirit to get the soul of a deceased sister to teach him. He did so, and in three months it was ascertained that he had made very creditable progress in spelling, &c. The amusements of the "spirits" consist of music, concerts, dancing, card-playing, &c., and they live in a species of concubinage. They dress according to fancy, but the male spirits generally wear trousers, hats or turbans, and beards. They have also condescended to teach certain celestial architectural vagaries. They lie like mortals, and coolly admit it; and it is occasionally necessary to put the spirits on oath! They are very liable to error, and the spirit of General Washington, equally careless of grammar and orthography, revealed, that they "many times make mistakes, and so we are called liars; but this is owing to our neglect of the records that are given us, and also to evel spirits; but we will try to be more careful or correct after we have becom more use to writing for our friends." The spirits speak with the utmost contempt and abhorrence of the religious beliefs of the present day, and regard the Bible as unfit for general perusal, from the errors (due to the translators) which it contains; and this assertion is fittingly crowned by the statement that it emanates under a special communication from St. Paul himself.

Notwithstanding the painful absurdity and frightful blasphemy of these doctrines (which satisfactorily show the class of persons by whom the delusion is fostered, and the flagrant character of the imposition), clergymen, judges, and persons distinguished in literature have permitted themselves to be led away by the delusion, each establishing some conscientious clause or giving a peculiar phase to the belief, in order to exculpate themselves from the charge of contributing to some of the more outrageous dogmas of this strange delusion.

The phenomena which led to the delusion were sounds of various kinds and intensity, which were called up by the "medium" at will, apparently in various parts of the room in which the "séances" were held, but principally beneath the table at which she sat; and the movement of certain articles of furniture. The intelligent correspondence with the "raps" (for the furniture-moving was merely indicative of the power of the suppositious spirits) was by questions uttered audibly, mentally, or in writing, to which replies were given by repeated raps—an affirmative; or by silence—a negative; or the words of the response were spelled out by running over the alphabet—the affirmative knocks taking place when the finger or pencil rested on the letters required to form the sentence. Some more highly-gifted mediums, pervaded by a spiritual afflatus, were enabled to write the answers; and others shadowed them forth in dancing.

If we reflect for a moment upon the difficulty which most persons experience in detecting the direction and position of sounds, particularly when the mind is under the dominion of certain ideas, we may readily imagine how at the first the delusion of spirit-rapping obtained credence among the credulous and ignorant. It was, however, soon ascertained that an imposition was being practised; and very shortly after the development of the mania, a "medium" came forward and confessed the deception practised, and the mode in which she had carried it out. This "medium," named Mrs. Norman Culvers, had been taught the mode of deception by Margaretta Fox, one of the original "mediums;" and she stated that the raps were produced by the toes, the listener's mind being distracted by directing the attention, by a fixed gaze or otherwise, to certain parts of the room, from which he was instructed that the sounds came. By the confession of other "mediums," and by observation, it was ascertained that, in addition to the rapping by the toes, raps were produced by a lateral movement of the knee-joint, and the joints of the thumb and fingers (the "cracking" of the joints, a familiar phenomenon); by the action of the feet against the leg of the table, or by the movement of the soles of the shoes one against another; and lastly, by a hammer ingeniously fixed in the woodwork of the table. It was further shown to demonstration, that in no case when the "mediums" were placed in positions where none of the before-mentioned methods of rapping could occur, did the raps take place; that in no case could the "spirits" reply correctly to a single question, when the querist, by an impassibility of countenance and scrupulous care over his actions, did not betray his thoughts, or indicate the letters constituting the words he required; and that the "spirits" might be led to answer the most absurd and incorrect questions, utterly unconscious of imposition or error.

Notwithstanding this exposure, the delusion is persisted in; and it is principally maintained by the occasional correct replies which are given by the medium to questions of which none present could be acquainted with the answer, but the querist; and many men, even of considerable literary attainments, have been led into the delusion by this simple phenomenon alone.

A careful examination of the details of the spirit-communications, and the confessions of the mediums already alluded to, will show that in no case was there a correct response given to questions when precautions were taken to guard against the indication given by the countenance or by the actions to the medium, and even this was not sufficient to prevent a multitude of errors being fallen into.

The pure spirit-communications which have been received from the Apostles, Franklin, Washington, &c., vary according to the mediums to which they have been vouchsafed, and often flatly contradict each other; in itself a sufficient indication of the glaring character of the delusion.

Some, admitting the spiritual origin of the "raps" have gone a little further, and enunciated the opinion that the "rappings" occur through the influence of electricity or magnetism which the spirits wield; "and if," writes N. P. Willis, "disembodied spirits are still moving consciously among us, and have thus found an agent at last—electricity—by which they can communicate with the world they have left, it must soon, in the progressive nature of things, ripen to an intercourse between this and the spirit-world." Surely an electric condition that would cause sonorous "raps," and tables, chairs, &c., to dance jigs, and imitate ships tossed in a storm, would be within reach of the test of experiment. Such a test, however, has never been attempted; and thus it is men, even of high standing in literature, with the utmost coolness plunge into conjectures respecting the operations of forces of which they seem to be unacquainted even with the signification of the terms. For electricity and magnetism are no vague names, but terms applied to certain phenomena which are readily ascertained, and without the presence of which we are not justified in using them.

We have already sufficiently shown the illusions to which the sense of hearing is liable, and the influence they have had in the formation of the belief in spirit-rapping is evident. The disposition of the mind in contributing towards this and allied delusions requires a brief comment.

The substratum of superstition which is found to prevail more or less in most persons, is a never-failing source of delusion; and it is the groundwork upon which the impostor acts. Readily excited and brought into play by phenomena of which the origin is not palpably evident, it seizes with avidity upon doctrines which pander to its taste for mystery and wonder; and a suggestion, whether direct or implied, induces a condition of the mind that interposes an almost insuperable bar to the healthy action of the reason. This unconscious action of the mind, under the influence of leading ideas, is the prime foundation of those illusions of the senses of which we have illustrations in the pseudo sciences of "mesmerism," "electro-biology," &c., all the phenomena of which may be produced by simply inducing certain trains of thought.

When Goëthe represented Mephistopheles as saying—

it was with a profound perception of the powerful influence they exercise in the creation of delusions.

The throngs which crowd around the table of the "medium," go pregnant with a desire to see a mystery, and filled with a vague fear of the supernatural influences to which they may be subjected. This is increased by the interval of from five minutes to half an hour which is allowed to intervene between the commencement of the séance, and the first "rap" from the spirits; and during this period the mind is kept to the utmost tension by listening, or is well exercised by attending to the anecdotes illustrative of the power of the spirits which are detailed by the medium, and it is thus brought into the state that is requisite for the perfection of the delusion. In the condition of the mind thus induced, the medium has little difficulty in leading her credulous hearer to whatever length it may be desired, and a careful examination of the countenance and the hand will suffice for a correct response to the majority of the questions which may be proposed.

The want of discrimination of the facts from the theories invented to explain them, is another and great source of delusion; for the majority it suffices that if the "raps" occur, or the table moves, it is sufficiently demonstrative that it is by the influence of spirits; and it is a much less difficult matter to them to believe that the phenomena arises from supernatural than natural agency.

Certain luminous phenomena, phosphorescent flames, luminous clouds, glistening stars, &c., have been observed when the spirit-manifestations have occurred in profound darkness. These appearances were dependent upon a disordered condition of the eye, which will be fully dwelt upon in a subsequent part of this work.

The irregular and violent movements of the furniture which occurred when the séances were held in darkened apartments, were the result of the most palpable collusion. There were certain movements of the tables, however, around which the experimenters sat when eliciting the spirit-rappings, that could not be attributed to this source; and an examination of these motions showed that if several persons arranged themselves around a table, and rested their hands slightly upon it, after a longer or shorter period motion would occur, which was to a great extent under the control of the will, although the experimenters were not aware that they exerted any force whatever upon the table; and further, it was ascertained that a table thus set in motion would respond by rapping with the legs, to questions propounded to it, and that with a facility equal to the most perfect "medium."

This interesting phenomenon soon attracted considerable attention, for it was certain that neither collusion nor wilful deception were concerned in it; and it could be produced by persons who did not pretend to the character of "mediums;" indeed, out of a company of several individuals it was pretty certain that some could be found capable of inducing the phenomenon.

The "Rappites" looked upon it simply as another and more general manifestation of the spirit-world; others, imbued with the pseudo-scientific dogmas of animal magnetism, odylism, &c., sought an explanation in the principles of their respective theories; some regarded it as the result of Satanic agency; and lastly, those best capable of judging on the question, looked upon the motion as the result of muscular force exerted unconsciously by the experimenters, and in accordance with certain well-known laws of muscular and mental action.

The doctrine of Satanic agency has excited great attention in this country, from the fact of its being propounded and advocated by certain clergymen of our Established Church, who not content with regarding it as one of those "great wonders" which are to prelude the reign of Anti-christ, have even sought by this agency to verify the truths of the immortality of the soul, eternity, the existence of a hell; thus seeking a confirmation of the Scripture from the devil himself, and comically identifying themselves with the principles so pithily expressed by Ralpho:—

The answer to this explication, as well as to those other explications based on the doctrines of the "Rappites," and the principles of the pseudo-sciences, is found in the simple fact, that if care be taken to ascertain the sources of motion which arise from the experimenters themselves, and to obviate their influence in the experiment, neither movements nor responses occur; and by a careful examination of the conditions requisite for the perfection of the experiment, and an experimental illustration of them, we arrive at the conclusion that "table-moving" and "table-talking" are the result solely of muscular action exercised unconsciously under the influence of certain expectant ideas.

If we proceed in the examination of this question as in that of every other physical question, by seeking the conditions requisite for the fulfilment of the experiment, and examining their nature, we observe that the position of the persons who perform it is one that would give rise to certain easily understood and comprehensible results. The hands are placed upon the table in such a position that the experimenter exercises the least degree of pressure of which he can be conscious, and in this position they are kept for a longer or shorter period, but generally averaging from twenty to thirty minutes. Whether the individual be sitting or standing, the protracted exertion of the muscles to keep the hand in so constrained a position, gives rise to considerable fatigue, which is manifested by the usual painful sensations in the over-exercised parts; and these sensations have been sagely compared by the advocates of the pseudo-sciences to those experienced by electric or electro-magnetic currents. As the muscular fatigue and the painful state of tension into which the muscles are thrown increase, the sensations by which we judge of the amount of pressure exercised upon a given object diminishes, and unless the degree of pressure exercised is checked by information derived through some other sense, it goes on ever increasing in a direct ratio until the whole weight of the hand, the arm, and even the shoulders of the person so standing is unconsciously thrown upon the table, and a degree of force exercised, which is sufficient to induce the movements we witness in the table experimented on.

The inertia of the table is as thoroughly destroyed by the amount of force thus brought to bear upon it, as if a more intense force had acted momentarily. The period of suspense which occurs previous to the first movement taking place, is that during which the force communicated by the hand is equally diffused through the table, and the moment this happens, as no body can be set in motion until the motion has been imparted to every integral particle of that body, a slight additional force will be sufficient to overcome the resistence of surrounding media, and cause it to change its position. Hence a comparatively slight force exercised over a long period will not unfrequently induce effects equal to those caused by a greater degree of force exercised during a short period of time.

We often witness the practical application of this principle. If we observe two men endeavouring to move a railway carriage upon the line, we shall notice that they do not at the first exert all their strength in one powerful, and what would probably prove exhaustive and futile, effort, but placing their backs against the carriage, they will push with a continuous and gradually increasing effort for several seconds, or even longer, when a slight movement will be perceived in the carriage, and a slight additional exercise of force will set it in motion. So also, as we have seen in quarries, when several men have endeavoured to move a large mass of stone with a lever, they have not used one long and powerful effort, but a succession of slighter ones, until a tremulous motion has been seen in the mass, when by one exertion of force they have hurled it from its place.

The degree of pressure exercised by any given persons will be in the inverse ratio of the degree of control which they can exercise over the muscular system, and over their ideas; hence the phenomena of table-turning and table-talking are most fully developed by those who are possessed of but a low degree of volitional power, and in whom the passions and emotions are paramount, as in young females, boys, or those who are influenced by certain dominant ideas: and as these conditions vary in different persons to an almost endless extent, it would follow that the power of exciting the movements of the table and responses, as well as the nature and degree of the responses, would vary in a similar degree, which is found to be the case; and the rule of response is, as one of the supporters of the Satanic theory (the Rev. N. S. Godfrey) very naïvely remarks, "whatever the investigator wishes it to be."

The directive force in the phenomena of table-moving is derived from certain habitual actions of the muscles, as in the direction from right to left, from the customary use of the right hand; and the influence which our ideas exercise upon the muscular system, unwittingly and involuntarily on our part.

This, as well as the preceding remarks, are all capable of being experimentally illustrated and demonstrated; and Professor Faraday,[57] by a rigorous series of experiments, has shown that it is upon these principles that the phenomena depend.

By the use of a most ingenious and simple piece of mechanism connected with an index, he showed the extent to which we exercise a certain degree of force and directive power unconsciously, and the nature of this directive power; and the result was:—

"That when the parties saw the index it remained very steady; when it was hidden from them, or they looked away from it, it wavered about, though they believed that they always pressed directly downwards; and when the table did not move, there was still a resultant hand-force in the direction in which it was wished the table should move, which, however, was exercised quite unwittingly by the party operating. This resultant it is which, in the course of the waiting-time, while the fingers and hands become stiff, numb, and insensible by continued pressure, grows up to an amount sufficient to move the table or the substances pressed upon. But the most valuable effect of this test-apparatus is the corrective power it possesses over the mind of the table-turner. As soon as the index is placed before the most earnest, and they perceive—as in my presence they have always done—that it tells truly whether they are pressing downwards only or obliquely, then all effects of table-turning cease, even though the parties persevere, earnestly desiring motion, till they become weary and worn-out. No prompting or checking of the hand is heeded; the power is gone; and this only because the parties are made conscious of what they are really doing mechanically, and so are unable unwittingly to deceive themselves."

An experiment is familiar to many persons by which a ring, being suspended by means of a piece of thread to one of the fingers, may be caused to beat responses against a glass surface (as that of a tumbler), in answer to certain queries put audibly; or, if the ring be held by the questioner, it is requisite merely that the questions be conceived mentally. This, to many, a puzzling phenomenon is dependent upon precisely the same cause as "table-talking"—a movement caused by muscular action developed unconsciously under the influence of certain ideational states of the mind.

It is an interesting fact, that a species of divination is mentioned by Ammianus Marcellinus, in which a ring, used after the above fashion, and a table, consecrated by mystic rites, were used. We are indebted to the Rev. J. W. Thomas, of Dewsbury, for the following quotation from the works of this author, who lived about the middle of the fourth century. The quotation is taken from the first chapter of the twenty-ninth book ("Construximus, magnifici judices, ad cortinæ similitudinem Delphicæ," &c.):—

"Noble judges, this unfortunate little table which you see, we constructed of laurel-rods with fearful rites (or ill-omened signs), after the likeness of the Delphic tripod; and (it having been) virtually consecrated with imprecations of mystic incantations (secret hymns), and many splendid and long-continued preparations, we at length used (lit. moved) it; and of using (moving) it, as often as it was consulted about secret things, this was the method. It was placed in the middle of a clean house, with a round plate made of divers metallic materials, correctly (lit. purely) put upon it, on whose extreme circumference the twenty-four letters of the alphabet were learnedly engraven, separated by spaces accurately measured. A person [gifted] with ceremonial science stood at it, clothed in linen garments, his feet in linen socks, a wreath round his head, bearing branches of a lucky tree, a fortunate omen having been obtained from the deity who is the author of predictions, by hymns conceived (Apollo); weighing with scales a pensile ring, formed (or furnished) with very fine Carpathian thread, consecrated with mystic rites, which (or who) by distinct intervals falling by leaps on every letter retained, makes heroic verses agreeing with (or answering to) the interrogatories, to the completed numbers and metres, such as the Delphic ones are read, or those given by the oracles of the Branchidæ. Thus then to those who inquired of us who should succeed to the present imperial government, for being swept in every part [as] it has been mentioned, and the ring leaping touched (went through) two syllables, ΘΕΟ; with the addition of the last letter (last additional letter), one present cried out 'Theodorus!' (as the name portended) by the decree of fate (by castal necessity)."

This paragraph embodies the defence of one Hilarius, who, together with a certain Patricius, was charged with having spread abroad prophecies adverse to the throne of the Emperor Valens.

A correspondent of "Notes and Queries" (Vol. IX., p. 201) quotes the following interesting passage from the "Apologeticus" of Tertullian, cap. xxiii.: ("Porro si et magi phantasmata," &c.):—

"Moreover, if magical professors also exhibit phantoms and defame the souls of the departed; if they press oracles out of childrens' talk; if they play many miracles with mountebank tricks, and if they send dreams, having once the power assisting them, of inviting angels and demons, by whom, and she-goats, and tables, they were accustomed to divine; how much more, &c."

The correspondent remarks: "Here table-divination, by means of angels and demons, seems distinctly alluded to. How like the modern system! The context of this passage, as well as the extract itself, will suggest singular coincidence between modern and ancient pretensions of this class."

The sense of touch rarely leads to illusions which are referred to the supernatural, except under the influence of powerful superstitious feelings, when it is generally connected with illusions of the other senses.

The influence of fear in developing illusions of the senses of sight, hearing, and touch, has been well pourtrayed in Beaumont and Fletcher's comedy of "The Beggar's Bush" (Act V, Scene 1):

Boor. Mistress, it grows somewhat pretty and dark.

Gertrude. What then?

Boor. Nay, nothing. Do not think I am afraid, Although, perhaps, you are.

Ger. I am not. Forward!

Boor. Sure but you are. Give me your hand; fear nothing. There's one leg in the wood; do not fall backwards! What a sweat one on's are in; you or I! Pray God it do not prove the plague. Yet sure It has infected me; for I sweat too: It runs out at my knees. Feel, feel, I pray you!

Ger. What ails the fellow?

Boor. Hark! hark! I beseech you: Do you hear nothing?

Ger. No.

Boor. List! a wild hog; He grunts! now 'tis a bear; this wood is full of 'em! And now a wolf, mistress; a wolf! a wolf! It is the howling of a wolf.

Ger. The braying of an ass, is it not?

Boor. Oh, now one has me! Oh my left ham! farewell!

Ger. Look to your shanks, Your breech is safe enough; the wolf's a fern-brake.

Boor. But see, see, see! there is a serpent in it! 'T has eyes as broad as platters; it spits fire! Now it creeps tow'rds us; help me and say my prayers! 'T hath swallowed me almost; my breath is stopt: I cannot speak! Do I speak, mistress?—tell me.

Ger. Why thou strange timorous sot, canst thou perceive Anything i' th' bush but a poor glowworm.

Boor. It may be 'tis but a glowworm now; but 'twill Grow to a fire-drake presently.

Ger. Come then from it! I have a precious guide of you, and courteous, That gives me leave to lead myself the way thus. [Holla.

Boor. It thunders; you hear that now?

Ger. I hear one holla.

Boor. 'Tis thunder! thunder! see a flash of lightning Are you not blasted, mistress? Pull your mask off; 'T has play'd the barber with me here: I have lost My beard, my beard! Pray God you be not shaven; 'T will spoil your marriage, mistress.

Ger. What strange wonders fear fancies in a coward!

Boor. Now the earth opens!

Ger. Prithee hold thy peace.

We have now glanced at the principal illusions to which the senses of sight and hearing are liable, and the bearing which they have on the subject of spectral apparitions and other phenomena which it has been customary to regard as manifestations of the supernatural.

But a false appreciation of sensations excited by natural objects is not the only mode in which we are liable to be deceived, for we are apt to regard sensations excited by the action of the mind, or by a disordered condition of the nervous system, or both combined—subjective sensations—as sensations excited by natural objects—objective sensations.

To the erroneous perceptions arising from this source the term hallucination has been given, and the phantasmata to which they give rise are more important than those arising from illusions, since the judgment is often unable to correct them, and they may impose equally on the wisest and the most ignorant.

It is a law in physiology that a nerve of special sensation, (including in that term its central as well as its peripheral terminations,) in whatever manner it may be excited, can only produce that sensation to which it is appointed. Thus the nerve of sight, whether it be excited by natural or artificial light, or mechanical stimulus from without, or by morbid changes within, can only give rise to the sensation of light; the nerve of hearing, sound; the nerve of smell, odours; and so on.

If the ball of the eye is pressed upon (say by the finger at the inner angle) when the eyelids are closed, or the light otherwise excluded, certain luminous figures will be perceived. This arises from the pressure exciting the inner coat of the eye (the retina), which is formed principally by the expansion of the nerve of light (the optic nerve), and is the tissue in which the changes necessary for the production of the sensation of light are induced by the rays of light from without.