Chapter III · (continued 2)

When the lamp is turned down, the noise of moving furniture is heard; the round table is fetched clear up onto the top of the large table. It is removed, and the tambourine executes a dance all alone with a peculiar sound like the ringing of bells. Mme. Fourton says that she has had her hand pressed and her fore-arm pinched.

At 11.45 the window curtain is closed in its turn; and, after a moment, we all see in the direction in which the cleft in the corner curtain ought to be, above Eusapia's head, a large white star of the color of Vega, though larger and of a softer light, and which rests motionless for some seconds, then is extinguished. Shortly after, a zigzag glimmer of light, of the same white color, runs over the right-hand curtain, tracing two or three upright lines of several inches in length, like an N very much elongated.

In spite of the fact that night has fallen, there is still sufficient light entering by the two uncurtained windows, and proceeding from the vague glimmer of the lamp behind the easy-chair, to enable each one of us to distinguish his neighbors. Our silhouettes are outlined in the large mirror near us and above the sofa. The white collars of the men are clearly seen, their faces a little less clearly. Yet on my left I see very plainly M. Baschet, on my right Mme. Brisson, standing and holding her hand up to her face to shield the eyes. I also distinguish Mme. Flammarion, who has come and seated herself near her.

M. Flammarion feels an object gliding over his hair. He begs Mme. de Labadye to take hold of it; and a music-box falls into his hands, which, before the séance, was placed upon the ogee, in the corner concealed by the curtain. M. Brisson has taken the place at the table formerly occupied by M. Flammarion, facing Eusapia. A cushion hits him full in the face. As I am approaching the mirror, I see the reflection of this passing cushion by the comparatively bright light at the far end of the room.

M. Baschet seizes the object and rests his elbow upon it. It is snatched from him, flies over our heads, hits the mirror, falls upon the sofa, and rolls upon my foot. All this without my being able to perceive any movement on the part of the medium.

Midnight draws near. The séance is adjourned.

MM. Antoniadi and Mathieu then declare that the control with which they were charged has not been successful, and that they are not sure that they have always had hold of the medium's hands.

Report of M. Antoniadi

(The Same Séance)

I shall give you an exact account of the rôle I played, that I may gratify your desire to know the truth.

I restricted myself to ascertaining whether there was a single phenomenon which could not be explained in the most simple manner, and I arrived at the conclusion that there was not. I assure you, on my word of honor, that my watchful, silent attitude convinced me, beyond all manner of doubt, that everything is fraudulent, from the beginning to the end; that there is no doubt that Eusapia shifts her hands or her feet, and that the hand or the foot that one is thought to control is never held tight or very strongly pressed at the moment of the production of the phenomena. My certain conclusion is that nothing is produced without the substitution of hands. I ought to add that, at first, I was very much astonished when I was hit hard in the back, from behind the curtain, while I was very clearly holding two hands with my right hand. Happily, however, at this moment, Mme. Flammarion having given us a little light, I saw that I held the right hand of Eusapia and—yours!

The substitution is made by Eusapia with extraordinary dexterity. In order to ascertain it, I was obliged to concentrate my mind upon her very slightest movements with the severest attention. But it is the first step that costs; and, once familiarized with her artifices, I predicted with decision all the phenomena by the sensation of touch alone.

Being a good observer, I am absolutely certain that I was not deceived. I was neither hypnotized, nor was I at all frightened during the "bringing in" of objects. And, as I am not a lunatic, I believe that a certain weight should be given to my affirmations.

It is true that, during the séance, I was not sincere, disguising the truth of the efficacy of my control. I did that with the sole purpose of making Eusapia think that I was a convert to Spiritualism. I did this to avoid scandal. But, once the sitting was over, the Truth choked me, and I was most eager to communicate it to my great benefactor and official superior.

It is not prudent to be too affirmative. It is for that reason that I have always been reserved in my interpretation of natural phenomena. Consequently, I am unable to be so terribly affirmative as to take oath to the absolute charlatanism of the manifestations of Eusapia, before, as Shakespeare says, I have "rendered assurance doubly sure."

I have no personal ambition in the spiritistic line, and all the careful observations that I made during this séance of November 21 are only one stone the more contributed to the edifice of Truth.

It is not on account of prejudice that I do not believe in the reality of the manifestations, and I can assure you, if I were able to see the least phenomenon that was really extraordinary or inexplicable, I should be the first to confess my error.

The reading of several books has led me to admit the possible reality of these manifestations, but direct experience has convinced me of the contrary.

My frankness in this report unhappily borders upon indiscretion. But frankness is here synonymous with devotion, for it would be to betray you if I were false for an instant to the sacred cause of Truth.

Report of M. Mathieu.

(Séance of November 25)

The séance opens at 9.30. M. Brisson, controller on the left, puts his feet on Eusapia's feet; M. Flammarion, controller on the right, holds her knees. In a moment the table leans to the right, its two left feet are lifted and then it falls back; then follows the lifting of the two right feet, and finally the lifting of the whole table off of its four feet to a height of about seven inches above the floor (contact of feet certain and knees motionless). I take a photograph.

At 9.37 a slight lifting on the left; then a lifting on the right, and a total levitation (photograph).

During the levitations of the table the salon is lighted by a strong Auer burner. It is now extinguished and is replaced by a little lamp which is placed behind a fire-screen at the farther end of the room. Absolute control of the hands and of the feet made by MM. Brisson and Flammarion.

M. Brisson is slightly touched on the right hip, and at this moment the two hands of Eusapia are plainly seen.

At 9.48 the curtain shakes and then puffs out three times in succession. M. Brisson is again touched on the right hip; the curtain is drawn back as if by a curtain-band. M. Flammarion, who holds Eusapia's hand, makes three gestures and to each of his gestures corresponds a new divergence of the portière. Eusapia recommends that we "give attention to the temperature of the medium; it will be found to be changed after each phenomenon."

At 9.57 the light is diminished and is henceforth very feeble. The curtain bellies out, and at the same moment M. Brisson is touched; then the curtain is flung forcefully over the table. At the request of Eusapia, M. Delanne lightly touches her head behind, and the curtain slightly trembles.

Eusapia asks that a window be partly opened, the one in the middle of the salon, saying that we shall see something new. M. Flammarion holds with his left hand the knees of the medium, and with his right hand holds the wrist, the thumb, and the palm of her right hand before him at the height of the eyes. M. Brisson holds the left hand. Eusapia seems to call something from the direction of the window, making gestures, and saying, "I will catch it." Then a little branch of privet comes and touches M. Flammarion's hand, apparently arriving from somewhere near the window. M. F. takes this branch. A moment later two spindle-tree branches come from behind the curtain at the height of M. Brisson's head and past the edge of the curtain, which is pulled up and back. The branches fall on the table.

M. Brisson, all this time at Eusapia's left, is next touched on the hip, at a moment when the hand of the medium is at the height of M. Flammarion's beard. Then the chair of M. Brisson is pulled and pushed about. We hear distinctly, behind the curtain, sounds from the shaking of the round table, upon which is the tambourine. Certain vibrations of the tambourine are produced, corresponding to the movements of the round table. At this moment M. Brisson mentions the fact that he has been out of touch with the foot of the medium for about half a second, but he is then holding her two thumbs about ten inches apart, and M. Flammarion has her right hand close to his breast. The right hand of M. Brisson, holding the left of Eusapia, passes behind the curtain, and M. Brisson says that he has the impression of something like a dress-skirt puffed out against his ankle.

Thereupon ensues new jolting and bumping of the round table and the tambourine, with displacement of the round table. (Undoubted control by MM. Flammarion and Brisson.)

10.30. Clattering noises of the round table in the cabinet are heard. M. Flammarion makes gestures with his hand, and synchronistic movements of the table and of the tambourine take place in the dark cabinet.

10.35. Eusapia asks for a few minutes' rest. The sitting is resumed at 10.43. The violin and the bell are hurled with force through the cleft in the curtain (M. Brisson gives assurance that he holds Eusapia's left hand by the thumb, upon her knees, and M. Flammarion the entire right hand). At this moment a photograph is taken by flash-light. Cries and groans from Eusapia, blinded by the light.

The sitting begins again some minutes afterward, and M. Jules Claretie, sitting at the left of M. Brisson, has his fingers twice touched by a hand. M. Baschet, who is standing away from the table, holds out a violin to the curtain: the violin is seized and thrown into the cabinet. He holds a book out to the curtain: this book is seized, but falls to the floor, before the curtain.

M. Claretie presents a cigarette-holder and feels a hand which tries to seize it, but he resists and will not let it go. M. Flammarion asks him to let go of the object: the hand bears off the prize. A moment after, this object is thrown from the cleft between the two curtains against Mme. de Basilewska at the other end of the table. It had been both presented and removed at the middle of the curtain.

At eleven o'clock Eusapia begs for a little more light. M. Claretie has become controller of the left in place of M. Brisson. He is touched on the left side. Then the round table is overturned while advancing toward the main table. M. Claretie perceives that his chair is moving backwards, as if pulled back; then he is hit on the shoulder and experiences a strong pressure under the arm-pit. The curtain suddenly approaches M. Claretie, brushes against him, and envelops both himself and the medium. M. Claretie is then pinched in the cheek. M. Flammarion presents to the curtain the hand of Mme. Fourton, and the two hands are pinched through the curtain.

The music-box, which is in the dark cabinet, falls on the table; Mmes. Gagneur and Flammarion at the same moment make mention of a hand. M. Baschet presents the music-box to the curtain; a hand seizes it through the curtain, he resists, the hand pushes him away; he presents it again, the hand seizes it and throws it back, and the box thus thrown wounds M. Claretie, who is struck beneath the left eye. The tambourine is thrown forward upon the table after having remained suspended a moment above the head of the medium.

At 11.15 a complete levitation of the table for seven or eight seconds. Absolute control by MM. Flammarion and Claretie. M. Flammarion has his knee pinched by a hand. Next the round table is transferred to the knees of M. Claretie and is forced upon him in spite of all his resistance. Levitations of the table take place in full light. Verification of the feet. The feet of one of the controllers are beneath, those of the other above, and those of the medium between the two.

Report of M. Pallotti

(Séance of November 14)

(There are present at this séance, besides the hosts of the evening: M. and Mme. Brisson, M. and Mme. Pallotti, M. le Bocain, M. Boutigny, Mme. Fourton.)

At the commencement of the sitting several levitations of the table took place, and, when I asked the spirit who was present if he could let me see my daughter Rosalie, I obtained an affirmative reply. I then made an agreement with the said spirit that a series of eight regular raps would indicate to me the moment when my dear daughter would be present. After some minutes of waiting, the number of raps agreed on was heard in the table. These raps were vigorous and made at fixed intervals.

I found, at this time, that I was placed opposite to the medium,—that is to say, facing her,—at the other end of the table. When I asked the spirit to embrace me and caress me, I immediately felt an icy breath before my face, but yet without experiencing the least sensation of contact.

When the medium announced the materialization of the spirit in these words, "E venuta, e venuta" ("She is here, she is here"), I distinguished over the middle of the table a spectral form, dim and confused, but which, little by little, grew brighter, and took the shape of the head of a young girl of the same stature as Rosalie.

When objects, such as the music-box, violin, or the like, were unexpectedly brought before us, I saw very plainly the shape of a little hand emerging from the curtain that hung close by me, and which placed these different objects upon the table.

I ought to declare that, during these inexplicable phenomena, the chain was not broken for a single moment: it would consequently have been materially impossible for one of us to have made use of his hands.

I will now describe the last phenomena in which I was for a little while both actor and spectator. These events closed the séance.

One of the company, M. Boutigny, who was affianced to my daughter, having left the table to give his place to one of the spectators, I saw him approach the curtain of which I have spoken, which at once gaped open by his side. I ascertained this fact very precisely.

M. Boutigny then announced to us aloud that he was being very affectionately caressed. The medium, who was at this moment in an extraordinary state of agitation, kept saying, "Amore mio, amore mio!" ("My love, my love!"), and, addressing herself to me, called to me several times in the following words, "Adesso vieni tu! vieni tu!" ("Come at once, come!")

I hastened to take the place which M. Boutigny occupied near the curtain, and I was scarcely there when I felt myself kissed several times. I was able for an instant to touch the head which was kissing me, which, however, drew back from the contact of my hands.

I ought to say that, while these events were taking place, my eyes were carefully observing the medium as well as the persons who were by my side. I can therefore, boldly certify that I was not the victim of any illusion or subterfuge, and that the head which I touched was the head of a real and unknown person. I felt myself afterwards gently stroked several times, upon the face and head, the neck and the breast, by a hand which came out from behind the curtain. At last I saw the portière move aside and a little hand, very moist, very soft, stretched out and placed on my right hand. Quick as thought, I reached my left hand to this place to seize it; but, after having held it closely pressed in mine for several seconds, it seemed to melt away between my fingers.

Before closing, let me say, by way of additional authentication, that M. Flammarion had the extreme kindness to have this séance given for my family and myself, and it therefore took on a very markedly private character.

The séance having lasted from 9.20 to 11.45 P.M., we several times asked the medium if she felt fatigued. Eusapia said no. It was only when the last experiment took place, when we (myself and my family) had been caressed and embraced, that the medium, feeling tired, decided to end the sitting.

My wife is convinced, as I am, that she embraced her daughter, recognizing her hair and the general appearance of her person.

Report of M. Le Bocain

(The Same Séance)

The following are some extraordinary phenomena which I observed during the course of this séance and of which I believe I can give a report as exact as it is impartial, having personally taken the most minute precautions to assure myself of the perfect fairness of the conditions under which these different wonders were produced.

I only speak, be it understood, of circumstances or actions with which I myself was associated both as actor and as spectator.

1. At the opening of the sitting and during the time that the table was engaged in all sorts of noisy pranks, I clearly felt the pressure of a hand clasping me in a friendly way upon the right shoulder. In order to make the matters clear, I ought to depose that—

a) I sat at the left of the medium and held her hand; that, furthermore, during the whole sitting her foot was placed on mine.

b) That, with Eusapia's hand always tightly pressed in mine, I proved, by suddenly placing it upon her knees, at the very moment that the table was rising from beside us, that her lower limbs were in a normal position and absolutely motionless.

c) For these different reasons, it seems to me, in fact, impossible that Eusapia could have made any use whatever of these two limbs (which happened to be placed by me) to execute a movement, even unconscious, that could give rise to the least suspicion.

2. At a certain point in the proceedings I felt on my right cheek the sensation of a fondling caress. I felt very distinctly that it was a real hand which was touching my skin, and nothing else. The hand in question seemed to me of small size, and the skin was soft and moist.

3. Towards the end of the séance I felt upon my back a gust of cold air, and at the same time I heard the curtain behind me slowly open.

Then, when I turned around, very much puzzled, I perceived standing at the lower end of this kind of alcove a form,—indistinct, it is true, but not so much so that I could not recognize the silhouette of a young girl whose figure was slightly beneath the average. I ought to say here that my sister Rosalie was also of short stature. The head of this apparition was not very distinct. It seemed surrounded by a short of shaded aureole. The whole form of the statue, if I may so express myself, stood out very little from the dim obscurity from which it had emerged; that is to say, it was not very luminous.

4. I addressed myself to the spirit in Arabic, in very nearly the following terms:

"If it is really thou, Rosalie, who art in the midst of us, pull the hair on the back of my head three times in succession."

About ten minutes later, and when I had almost completely forgotten my request, I felt my hair pulled three separate times, just as I had desired. I certify this fact, which, besides, formed for me a most convincing truth of the presence of a familiar spirit close about us.

Le Bocain, Illustrator, Rire, Pêle-Mêle, Chronique Amusante, etc.

I have restricted myself to presenting here these different reports,[28] in spite of certain contradictions, and even because of them. The reports mutually supplement each other and form a complete whole, through the entire independence of each observer.

You see how complex the subject is, and how difficult it is to form a radical conviction, an absolute scientific judgment. Some phenomena are incontestably true: there are others which are doubtful and which we may attribute to fraud, conscious or unconscious, and sometimes also to illusions of the observers. The levitation of the table, for example, its complete detachment from the floor under the action of an unknown force acting in opposition to the law of gravity, is a fact which cannot reasonably be contested.

I may remark, in this connection, that the table almost always rises hesitatingly, after balancings and oscillations, while, on the contrary, when it falls back it goes straight down at one swoop, alighting squarely on its four feet.[29]

On the other hand, since the medium constantly seeks to release one hand (generally her left hand) from the control designed to hinder her from doing so, a certain number of the touches felt and of the displacements of objects may be due to a substitution of hands. This behavior of hers will be the subject of a special examination in the following chapter.

But it would be impossible by the whole force of the hand to produce the violent movement of the curtain, which seems to be inflated by a tempestuous wind, and projected to the very centre of the table, forming a great hood around the heads of the sitters. To fling out the curtain with such force, it would be necessary for the medium to rise and push on it as hard as she could with her extended arms—not once merely, but again and again. But how can she do this when she is all the while seated tranquilly in her chair?

These experiments place us in a special environment or atmosphere, on the different physical and psychical characters of which it is difficult to form an opinion.

At the time of the last séance, during which M. and Mme. Pallotti are sure of having seen, touched, and embraced their daughter, I saw nothing, at that moment, of this spectral form, although it was only a few yards from me, and although I had perceived, some moments before, the head of a young girl. It is true that, out of respect for their emotion, I did not approach their group. But I kept careful watch, and I perceived no one but the living.

At the séance of November 10 the noise of a sonorous object notified us of a displacement, a movement. We seem to hear the violin strings lightly touched. It is, in fact, the little violin on the round table, which is lifted to a height somewhat above that of the head of the medium, passes into the opening between the two curtains, and appears before us with the neck forward. The idea comes into my head to grasp this instrument during its slow passage through the air; but I hesitate, because I wish to see what will become of it. It comes as far as the middle of the table, descends, then falls, partly upon the table, partly upon the left hand of M. Brisson and the right hand of Mme. Fourton.

That was one of the most accurate observations that I made at this séance. I did not let go of Eusapia's right hand for a single instant, and M. Brisson did not for a moment let go of her left hand.

But in the face of phenomena so incomprehensible we always revert to scepticism. In the séance of November 19 we had thoroughly resolved this time not to leave any loophole for doubt as to the hands, to hinder every attempt at substitution, and to have the most complete control of each hand, without having our attention withdrawn from this object for a single moment. Eusapia has only two hands. She belongs to the same zoological species that we do, and is neither trimanous nor quadrumanous.

It was enough, then, that there were two of us; that each one took a hand of the medium and kept hold of it between the thumb and the forefinger, that no possible doubt might arise, drew in the elbows, and held the said hand as far removed as possible from the axis of the medium's body and pressed against our own person, so as to remove the objection about the substitution of hands.

That was the essential object of this séance, as far as concerned M. Brisson and me. He had charge of the left hand. I had charge of the right. I need not add that I am as sure of the loyalty of M. Brisson as he is sure of mine, and that, forewarned as we were, and holding this séance for the express purpose of this control, we could neither of us be the dupes of any attempt at fraud, so far as regards that occasion, at least.

The famous medium, Home, had several times spoken to me of a curious experiment that he and Crookes made with an accordion held in one of his hands and playing all by itself, without the lower end being held by another hand. Crookes has represented this experiment by a sketch in his memoir upon this subject. The medium is seen holding the accordion with one hand in a kind of open-work cage, and the accordion is playing by itself. I shall give the details of this matter farther on.

I tried the experiment in another way, by holding the accordion myself, and not letting it be touched by the medium. The feats which we had just witnessed, and which were performed while Eusapia had her hands securely held, gave me the hope of succeeding, so much the more because we believed that we had seen fluid hands in action.

I, therefore, take a little new accordion, bought that evening in a bazaar, and, approaching the table and remaining in a standing position, I hold the accordion by one side, resting two fingers upon two keys, in such a way as to permit the air to pass in case the instrument should begin to play.

So held, it is vertically suspended by the stretching out of my right hand to the height of my head, and above the head of the medium. We make sure that her hands are all the time tightly held and that the chain is unbroken. After a short wait of five or six seconds I feel the accordion drawn by its free end, and the bellows is immediately pushed in several times successively; and at the same time the music is heard. There is not the least doubt that a hand, a pair of pincers, or what-not, has hold of the lower end of the instrument. I perceive very well the resistance of this prehensible organ. All possibility of fraud is eliminated; for the instrument is well above Eusapia's head, her hands are firmly held, and I distinctly see the distention of the curtain as far as the instrument. The accordion continues to make itself heard, and is pulled on so strongly that I say to the invisible power, "Well, since you have such a good hold on it, keep it!" I withdraw my hand, and the instrument remains as if glued to the curtain. It is no longer heard. What has become of it? I propose to light a candle to hunt for it. But the general opinion is that, since things are going so well, it is better to make no changes in the environment. While we are talking, the accordion begins to play,—a slight and rather insignificant air. In order to do that, it must be held by two hands. At the end of fifteen or twenty seconds it is brought to the middle of the table (playing all the while). The certainty that hands are playing it is so complete that I say to the Unknown, "Since you hold the accordion so well, you can doubtless take my hand itself." I reach out my arm at the height of my head, rather a little higher. The curtain inflates, and through the curtain I feel a hand (a pretty strong left hand); that is to say, three fingers and the thumb, and these grasp the end of my right hand.

Let us suppose for an instant that the accordion could have been pulled by one of Eusapia's hands, which she had released, lifted up, and screened behind the curtain. It is a very natural hypothesis. Let us say that the two controllers on the right and on the left respectively were cheated by the dexterity of the medium. That is not impossible. But, then, that the instrument might play, our heroine would have had to release her two hands and leave the two controllers at loggerheads with their own hands. It is something not to be thought of.

Apropos of the existence of a third hand, a fluid hand, created on the spur of the moment, with muscles and bones (an hypothesis so bold that one hardly dares to express it), I relate here what we observed during the sitting of November 19.

M. Guillaume de Fontenay, with whom the experiments at Montfort-l'Amaury were made, in 1897, at the home of the Blech family, had come on purpose from the centre of France, with a great profusion of apparatus and of new processes, to try to get some photographs. The medium appeared to be enchanted with them, and toward the middle of the soirée said to us, "You are going to have, this evening, something that you did not expect, something which has never been accomplished by any other medium, and which can be photographed as an unimpeachable record." She then explains to us that I am to lift my hand up, while firmly holding hers by the wrist; that M. Sardou, while holding her left hand, will keep watch over it above the table, and that then her third hand will appear in the photograph, her fluidic hand, holding the violin near her head, at some distance from her right hand, behind her, and against the curtain.

We wait pretty long before anything happens. At length, the medium trembles, sighs, recommends that we breathe deeply and thus aid her, and we feel, rather than see, the moving of the violin through the air, with a slight vibrating noise of the strings. Eusapia cries, "It is time, take the photograph, quick, don't wait, fire!" But the apparatus does not work: the magnesium won't kindle. The medium grows impatient, still holds out, but cries that she cannot hold out much longer. We all vehemently clamor for the photograph. Nothing moves. In the darkness, which is needed in order that the plate in the camera shall not have to be veiled, M. de Fontenay does not succeed in lighting the magnesium, and the violin is heard to fall to the floor.

The medium seems exhausted, groans, laments, and we all regret this check to the proceedings; but Eusapia declares that she can begin again, and asks us to get ready. In fact, at the end of five or six minutes the same phenomena are produced. M. de Fontenay explodes a chlorate of potassium pistol. The light is instantaneous, but feeble. It enables us to see Eusapia's left hand being held upon the table by M. Sardou's right hand, her right hand held in the air by my left hand, and at a distance of about twelve inches in the rear, at the height of one's head, the violin, resting vertically against the curtain. But the photograph gives no picture.

Eusapia now asks for a little light ("poco di luce"). The small hand-lamp is lighted again, and the illumination is sufficient for us to see each other distinctly, including the arms, the head of the medium, the curtain, etc. The chain is formed again. The curtain flares widely out, and M. Sardou is several times touched by a hand which gives him a good whack on the shoulder, making him bend his head forward toward the table. In the presence of this manifestation and of these sensations we have again the impression that there has been a hand there, a hand different from those of the medium (which we continue carefully to hold),—and from ours, because we are holding each other's hands in the chain. Moreover, there is no one near the curtain, which is plainly visible. I thereupon remark, "Since there is a hand there, let it take from me this violin, as it did day before yesterday." I take the violin by the handle and hold it out to the curtain. It is at once taken and lifted, then falls to the floor. I do not for a moment let go the hand of the medium. Yet I grasp this hand with my right hand, for a moment, in order to pick up with my left the violin that has fallen near me. As I stoop down to the floor, I feel an icy breath upon my hand, but nothing more. I take the violin and put it on the table; then I take again with my left hand the hand of the medium, and, seizing the violin with my right, I hold it out again to the curtain. But Mme. Brisson, peculiarly incredulous, asks me to let her take it herself. She does so, holds it out to the curtain, and the instrument is snatched from her, in spite of all the efforts that she makes to retain it. Everybody declares they saw very distinctly this time.

The hands of the medium have not been let go a single minute.

It seems as if this experiment, made under these conditions, in sufficient light, ought to leave no doubt about the existence of a third hand of the medium which acts in obedience to her will. And yet!—

During this same soirée of November 19 I ask that the violin, which has fallen to the floor, be brought again upon the table. We keep holding carefully the medium's hands, M. Sardou her left hand and I her right. Eusapia, wishing to give still more security, more certainty, proposes that I take her two hands, the right as I am holding it, and her left wrist in my right hand, her left hand always being held by M. Sardou,—the whole show of hands taking place on the table. A noise is heard. The violin is brought on, passes above our hands, thus criss-crossed, and is laid down, farther on, in the middle of the table. A candle is lighted, and the position of our hands is ascertained. They have not moved. Some time after this phenomena, in the dim light, we all saw will-o'-the-wisps shining in the cabinet. They were visible through the cleft in the curtains, which at that time was rather wide. For my part, I saw three of them, the first very brilliant, the others less intense. They were not tremulous, nor did they stir in the least, and remained in view scarcely more than a second.

M. Antoniadi having remarked that he is not always sure of holding her left hand, Eusapia says to me in a flush of passion, "Since he is not sure, take my two hands yourself again." I already hold the right, and am absolutely certain of it. I thereupon take her left wrist in my right hand, M. A. declaring that he will take care of the fingers. In this position, Eusapia's two hands being thus held above the table, a cushion, which is at my right upon the table, having been forcibly thrown there some moments before, is seized and thrown over the sofa, brushing my forehead on the left. Those who sit at the table and form the chain affirm that the hands of the chain have not lost touch with each other.

Here is another circumstance recorded in the notes of Mme. Flammarion:

We were almost in complete darkness,—the lamp, removed as far as possible from Eusapia, having only the dim glow of a night-lamp. Eusapia was seated at the experiment table,—between MM. Brisson and Pallotti, who were holding her two hands,—and almost facing this lamp.

Mme. Brisson and I were seated some yards distant from Eusapia, one of us on the side and the other in the middle of the salon, Eusapia facing us, while we had our backs turned to the light. This allowed us to distinguish well enough everything that passed before us.

Up to the moment when the event that I am going to relate took place, Mme. Brisson had remained almost as incredulous as I, apropos of the phenomena, and she had just been expressing to me in a low tone her regret at not having yet seen anything herself, when, all of a sudden, the curtain behind Eusapia began to shake and move gracefully back, as if lifted by an invisible curtain band,—and what do I see? The little table on three feet, and leaping (apparently in high spirits) over the floor, at the height of about eight inches, while the gilded tambourine is in its turn leaping gayly at the same height above the table, and noisily tinkling its bells.

Stupefied with wonder, quick as I can I pull Mme. Brisson to my side, and, pointing with my finger at what is taking place, "Look!" said I.

And then the table and the tambourine begin their carpet-dance again in perfect unison, one of them falling forcibly upon the floor and the other upon the table. Mme. Brisson and I could not help bursting out into laughter; for, indeed, it was too funny! A sylph could not have been more amusing.

Eusapia had not turned around. She was seen seated; and her hands, placed before her, were held by the two controllers. Even if she had been able to free both her hands, she would not have been able to take hold of the round table and tambourine, except by turning around; and the two ladies saw them leaping about all alone.

I observe to Eusapia that she must be very tired, that the séance has lasted over two hours and has yielded extraordinary results, and that it is perhaps time to end it. She replies that she desires to continue still a little longer, and that there will be new phenomena. We accept with pleasure, and sit down and wait.

Then she lays her head on my shoulder, takes my entire right arm, including the hand, and putting my leg between hers, and my feet between her feet, she held me very tight. Then she begins to rub the carpet, drawing my feet along with hers, and squeezing me tighter than before. Then she cries, "Spetta! spetta!" ("Look! look!"); then, "Vieni! vieni!" ("Come! come!") She invites M. Pallotti to take a place behind his wife and see what will happen. I must add that both of them had been earnestly asking, for some minutes, if they might see and embrace their daughter, as they had done at Rome.

After a new nervous effort on the part of Eusapia, and a kind of convulsion accompanied by groans, complaints, and cries, there was a great movement of the curtain. Several times I see the head of a young girl bowing before me, with high-arched forehead and with long hair.

She bows three times, and shows her dark profile against the window. A moment after we hear sounds from M. and Mme. Pallotti. They are covering with kisses the face of a being invisible to us, saying to her with passionate affection, "Rosa, Rosa, my dear, my Rosalie," etc. They say they felt between their hands the face and the hair of their daughter.

My impression was that there was really there a fluidic being. I did not touch it. The grief of the parents, revived and consoled at the same time, seemed to me so worthy of respect that I did not approach them. But, as to the identity of the spectral being, I believed it to be a sentimental illusion of theirs.

I come now to the strangest circumstances of all, the most incomprehensible, the most incredible, of any that we experienced in our séances.

On November 21 M. Jules Bois presents a book before the curtain at about the height of a man standing upright. The salon is dimly lighted by a little lamp with a shade, set pretty well to one side. Yet objects are seen with distinctness.

An invisible hand behind the curtain seizes the book. Then all the observers see it disappear as if it had passed through the curtain. It is not seen to fall before the curtain. It is an octavo, rather slender, bound in red, which I have just taken from my library.

Now Mme. Flammarion, almost as sceptical as M. Baschet about these phenomena, had glided past the window to the rear of the curtain, in order to observe carefully what was passing. She hoped to detect a movement of the medium's arm, and to unmask her, in spite of the courtesy she owed her as her hostess. She saw very plainly Eusapia's head, motionless before the mirror which reflected the light.

Suddenly the book appears to her, it having passed through the curtain,—upheld in the air, without hands or arms, for a space of one or two seconds. Then she sees it fall down. She cries, "Oh! the book: it has just passed through the curtain!" and, pale and stupefied with wonder, she abruptly retires among the observers.

The entire hither side of the curtain was plainly visible, because the left portion of the left-hand curtain had been loosened from its rod by the weight of a person who had sat down on the sofa where the lower part of the curtain had been accidentally placed; and because a large opening had been made fronting the mirror which filled the entire wall of the farther end of the salon,—a mirror that reflected the light of the little lamp.

If such an event had really taken place, we should be forced to admit that the book went through the curtain without any opening, for the tissue of the fabric is wholly intact; and we cannot suppose for a single moment that it passed through at the side, the book having been held out about the middle,—that is to say, about twenty-four inches from each side of the curtain, the breadth of which is four feet.

Nevertheless, this book was seen by Mme. Flammarion, who was looking behind the curtain; and it disappeared from the eyes of the persons who were in front, notably M. Baschet, M. Brisson, M. J. Bois, Mme. Fourton and myself. We were not expecting this miracle in any way; we were stupefied by it; we asked what had become of the book, and it seemed as if it had fallen behind the curtain.

Collective hallucination? But we were all in cool blood, entirely self-possessed.

If Eusapia had been able to adroitly slip her hand around and seize the book through the portière, the bare outline of the book would not have been seen, but a protuberance of the portière.

How great a value the sight of this thing passing through a portière would have as a scientific datum, if one were only sure of the absolute honesty of the medium,—if, indeed, this medium were a man of science, a physicist, a chemist, an astronomer, whose scientific integrity would be above suspicion! The mere fact of the possibility of fraud takes away ninety-nine one-hundredths of the worth of the observation, and makes it necessary for us to see it a hundred times before being sure. The conditions of certainty ought to be understood by all investigators, and it is curious to hear intelligent persons express surprise at our doubts, and at the strict scientific obligation we are under to lay down these conditions. In order to be sure of abnormalities like these levitations, for example, we must make sure of them a hundred times over; not see them once, but a hundred times.

It seems to us impossible that matter could pass through matter. You place for example a stone upon a napkin. If one should tell you that he has found it under the napkin, without any break in the continuity of the tissue, you would not believe him. However, I take a piece of ice, weighing say two pounds, and place it upon a napkin; I place both upon a strainer, in the oven; the piece of ice melts, passes through the napkin, and falls drop by drop into a basin. I put the whole thing into a freezing machine, the melted water congeals again; the piece of ice weighing two pounds has passed through the napkin.

It is very simple, you think. Yes, it is simple because we understand it. But, of course, this is not the same case as that of the book. Yet, after all, it is matter passing through matter, after a transformation of its physical condition.

We might seek explanations, invoke the hypotheses of the fourth dimension, or discuss the non-Euclidian geometry. It seems to me more simple, however, to think that, on the one hand, these experiments are not yet sufficient for us to make an absolute affirmation, and that, on the other hand, our ignorance of everything is formidable and forbids us to deny anything.

The phenomena of which I am speaking are so extraordinary that one is led to doubt them, even when one feels assured that he has seen them. Thus, for example, I noticed that M. René Baschet—my learned friend, present editor of Illustration—affirmed before us all, during the séance and afterward, that he saw with his own eyes, under the table, a head like that of a young girl of about twelve years of age, together with the bust. This head sank down vertically while he was looking at it and disappeared. He made the affirmation on the 21st, repeated it on the 22d at a theatre where we met, and on the 25th again at his home. Some time after, M. Baschet was convinced that he had been deceived, that he had been the dupe of an illusion. That is also possible. I was looking at the same time, as well as other persons, and we did not see anything.

It is then very human, when we are thinking, some days later, of these curious things, for us to suspect ourselves.

But there are prejudices less explicable. Thus, for example, at the séance of November 28 a distinguished engineer, M. L., absolutely refused to admit the levitation of the table, in spite of the evidence. Of this my readers may judge for themselves. Here is a note which I extract from my reports:

M. L. tells me that the medium lifts the table with her feet, while resting her hands upon it. I ask Eusapia to draw back her feet under her chair. The table is lifted.

After this second levitation, M. L. declares that he is not satisfied (although neither of the feet of the medium is under a foot of the table), and that we must begin the experiment again, without having her legs touched at any point. The medium then proposes that her legs be fastened to those of M. L. A third levitation takes place, after the left leg (the incriminated one) of the medium has been bound to the left leg of M. L.

This gentleman then declares that the hypotheses he has made, in order to explain the phenomenon, are null and void, but that there must be, all the same, a trick in the thing, because he does not believe in the supernatural.

Neither do I believe in the supernatural. And yet there is no trick.

This manner of reasoning, rather common, does not seem to me scientific. It is to claim that we know the limits of the possible and of the impossible.

People who deny that the earth moves reason in just this way. That which is contrary to common sense is not impossible. Common sense is the average state of popular knowledge; that is to say, of general ignorance.

A man acquainted with the history of the sciences, and who reasons calmly, cannot succeed in understanding the ostracism to which certain sceptics subject unexplained phenomena. "It is impossible," they think. This famous common sense on which they plume themselves is nothing after all, let me say, but common opinion, which accepts habitual facts without comprehending them, and which varies from time to time. What man of good sense would formerly have admitted that we should one day be able to photograph the skeleton of a living being, or store up the voice in a phonograph, or determine the chemical composition of an inaccessible star? What was science a hundred years ago, two hundred years, three hundred? Look at astronomy five hundred years ago, and physiology, and medicine, and natural philosophy, and chemistry. In five hundred years, in a thousand years, in two thousand years, what will these sciences of ours be? And in a hundred thousand years? Yes, in a hundred thousand years, what will human intelligence be? Our actual condition will be to that what the knowledge of a dog is to that of a cultivated man; that is to say, there is no possible comparison.

We smile to-day at the science of learned men of the time of Copernicus or Christopher Columbus or Ambroise Paré, and we forget that, in a few centuries, savants will estimate us in the same fashion. There are properties of matter which are completely hidden from us, and humanity is endowed with faculties still unknown to us. We only advance very slowly in the knowledge of things.

The critics do not always give proof that they possess a very compact logical power. You speak to them of facts proved by centuries of testimony. They challenge the value of popular testimony, and declare that these uncultivated folks, these petty merchants, these manufacturers, these laborers, these peasants, are incapable of observing with any exactitude.

Some days after, you cite the savants, men whose competence has been proved in the objective sciences of observation, which attest these very facts, and you hear the sneerers answer that those savants are competent witnesses in their special lines of study and work, but in nothing apart from these.

So, after this fashion, all testimony is refused. They declare that the thing, being impossible, cannot have been observed at all.

Of course there is room for a good deal of analysis in discussing the claims of human testimony. But, if we suppress every piece of testimony, what will there be left?—our native ignorance.

But, to tell the truth, there are some of these negative gentry who are sure of everything, and who impose their aphorisms upon us with the authority of a czar giving out his ukase or edict.

From these different experiments with Eusapia Paladino, including those described in the first and second chapters, the impression is left that the phenomena observed are, to a great extent, real and undeniable; that a certain number may be produced by fraud; but that, in fact, the subject is very complex. Again, certain movements simply belong to the material order, while others belong at once to the physical order and the psychical order. All this study is vastly more complicated than people in general have any idea of. I am going to pass summarily in review other experiments made by the same medium, and shall afterwards devote a special chapter to the examination of frauds and mystifications.

Let us look, first, at other achievements of Eusapia, and select from them whatever they also have to impart in the way of instruction or caution.