BLACK AND WHITE MAGIC.
"Peace!—the charm's wound up."—Macbeth.
The most startling of all scenes described in Holy Writ—as far as they represent incidents in human life—is, no doubt, the mysterious interview between unfortunate King Saul and the spirit of his former patron, the prophet Samuel. The poor monarch, abandoned by his friends and forsaken by his own heart, turns in his utter wretchedness to those whom he had but shortly before "put out of the land," those godless people who "had familiar spirits and the wizards." Hard pressed by the ancient enemy of his people, the Philistine, and unable to obtain an answer from the great God of his fathers, he stoops to consult a witch, a woman. It seems that Sedecla, the daughter of the Decemdiabite—for so Philo calls her according to Des Mousseaux—had escaped by her cunning from the fate of her weird sisters, and, having a familiar spirit, foretold the future to curious enquirers at her dwelling in Endor. At first she is unwilling to incur the penalty threatened in the king's decree, but when the disguised monarch, with a voice of authority promises her impunity, she consents to "bring up Samuel." As soon as the fearful phantom of the dread prophet appears, she becomes instinctively aware of the true character of her visitor, and, far more afraid of the power of the living than of the appearance of the departed, she cries out trembling: "Why hast thou deceived me? Thou art Saul!" Then follows the appalling scene in which Samuel reproves the miserable, self-despairing king, and foretells his death and that of his sons.
There can be no doubt that we have here before us an instance of genuine magic. The woman was evidently capable of casting herself into a state of ecstasy, in which she could at once look back into the past and forward into the future. Thus she beholds the great prophet, not sent by God from on high, as the Holy Fathers generally taught, but according to the then prevailing belief, rising from Sheol, the place of departed spirits, and then she utters, unconsciously, his own words. For it must not be overlooked that Samuel makes no revelations, but only repeats his former warnings. Saul learns absolutely nothing new from him; he only hears the same threatenings which the prophet had pronounced twice before, when the reckless king had dared to sacrifice unto God with his own hand (I. Sam. xiii.), and when he had failed to smite the Amalekite, as he was bidden. Possessed, as it were, by the spirit of the living Samuel, the woman speaks as he had spoken in his lifetime, and it is only when her state of exaltation renders her capable of looking into the future also, that she assumes the part of a prophetess herself, and foretells the approaching doom of her royal visitor.
That the whole dread scene was fore-ordained and could take place only by the will of the Almighty, alters nothing in the character of the woman with the familiar spirit. It is a clear case of necromancy, or conjuring up of the spirits of departed persons, such as has been practised among men from time immemorial. Among the chosen people of God persons were found from the beginning of their history who had familiar spirits, and Moses already fulminates his severest anathemas against these wizards (Lev. xx. 27). They appear under various aspects, as charmers, as consulters of familiar spirits, as wizards, or as necromancers (Deut. xviii. 11); they are charged with passing their children through the fire, with observing times (astrologers); with using enchantments; or they are said in a general way to "use witchcraft" (II. Chron. xxxiii. 6). That other nations were not less familiar with the art of evoking spirits, we see, for instance, in the "Odyssey," which mentions numerous cases of such intercourse with another world, and speaks of necromancers as forming a kind of close guild. In the "Persius" of Æschylus the spirit of Darius, father of Xerxes, is called up and foretells all the misfortunes that are to befall poor Queen Atossa. The greatest among the stern Romans could not entirely shake off the belief in such magic, in spite of the matter-of-fact tendencies of the Roman mind, and the vast superiority of their intelligence. A Cato and a Sylla, a Cæsar and a Vespasian, all admitted, with clear unfailing perception, the small grains of truth that lay concealed among the mass of rubbish then called magic. Even Christian theology has never absolutely denied the existence of such extraordinary powers over the spirits of the departed, although it has consistently attributed them to diabolic influences.
In this point lies the main difference between ancient and modern magic. For the oldest Magi whom we know were the wise men of Persia, called, from mah (great), Mugh, the great men of the land. They were the philosophers of their day, and, if we believe the impartial evidence of Greek writers—not generally apt to overestimate the merits of other nations—they were possessed of vast and varied information. Their aim was the loftiest ever conceived by human ambition; it was, in fact, nothing less than the erection of an intellectual Tower of Babel. They devoted the labors of a lifetime, and the full, well-trained vigor of their intelligence to the study of the forces of nature, and the true character of all created beings. Among the latter they included disembodied spirits as well as those still bound up with bodies made of earth, considering with a wisdom and boldness of conception never yet surpassed, both classes as one and the same eternal creation. The knowledge thus acquired they were, moreover, not disposed merely to store away in their memory, or to record in unattractive manuscripts; they were men of the world as well as philosophers, and looked for practical results. Here the pagan spirit shone forth unrestrained; the end and aim of all their restless labors was Power. Their ambition was to control, by the superior prestige of their knowledge, not only the mechanical forces of Nature, but also the lesser capacities of other created beings, and finally Fate itself! Truly a lofty and noble aim if we view it, as in equity we are bound to do, from their stand-point, as men possessing, with all the wisdom of the earth, as yet not a particle of revealed religion.
It was only at a much later period that a distinction was made between White Magic and Black Magic. This arose from the error which gradually overspread the minds of men, that such extraordinary powers—based, originally, only upon extraordinary knowledge—were not naturally given to men; but, could only be obtained by the special favor of higher beings, with whom the owner must needs enter into a perilous league. If these were benevolent deities, the results obtained by their assistance were called White Magic; if they were gods of ill-repute, they granted the power to perform feats of Black Magic, acts of wickedness, and crimes. Christianity, though it abolished the gods of paganism, maintained, nevertheless, the belief in extraordinary powers accorded by supernatural beings, and the same distinction continued to be made. Pious men and women performed miracles by the aid of angels and saints; wicked sinners did as much by an unholy league with the Evil One. The Egyptian charmer, of Apulejus, who declared that no miracle was too difficult for his art, since he exercised the blind power of deities who were subject to his will, only expressed what the lazzarone of Naples feels in our day, when he whips his saint with a bundle of reeds, in order to compel him to do his bidding. Magicians did not change their doctrine; they hardly even modified their ceremonies; their allegiance only was transferred from Jupiter to Jehovah, even as the same column that once bore the great Thunderer on Olympus, is now crowned by a statue of Peter Boanerges. Nor has the race of magicians ever entirely died out; we find enough notices in classic authors, whose evidence is unimpeachable, to know that the Greeks were apt scholars of the ancient Magi and transferred the knowledge they had thus obtained and long jealously guarded, to the priests of Egypt, who in their turn became the masters of the two mightiest nations on earth. First Moses sat at their feet till, at the age of forty, he "was learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians," and could successfully cope with their "magicians and sorcerers." Then the land of the Nile fell into the hands of the Romans, and poverty and neglect drove the wise men of Egypt to seek refuge in the capital of the world, where they either lived upon the minor arts and cunning tricks of their false fate, or, being converted to Christianity, infected the pure faith with their ill-applied knowledge. Certain portions of true magic survived through all persecutions and revolutions; some precious secrets were preserved by the philosophers of later ages and have—if we believe the statements made by trustworthy writers of every century—ever since continued in the possession of Freemasons and Rosicrucians; others became mixed up with vile superstitions and impious practices, and only exist now as the Black Art of so-called magicians and witches.
Wherever magic found a fertile soil among the people, it became a science, handed down from father to son, and such we find it still in the East Indies and the Orient generally; when it fell into the hands of skeptics, or weak, feeble-minded men, it degenerated with amazing speed into imposture and common jugglery. What is evident about magic is the well-established fact that its ceremonies, forms, and all other accessories are almost infinite in variety since they are merely accidental vehicles for the will of man, and real magicians know very well that the importance of such external aids is not only overrated but altogether fallacious. The sole purpose of the burning of perfumes, of imposing ceremonies and awe-inspiring procedures, is to aid in producing the two conditions which are indispensable for all magic phenomena: the magician must be excited till his condition is one resembling mental intoxication or becomes a genuine trance, and the passive subject must be made susceptible to the control of the superior mind. For it need not be added, that the latter will all the more readily be affected, the feebler his will and the more imperfect his mental vision may be by nature or may have been rendered by training and careful preparation. Hence it is that the magic table of the dervish; the enchanted drum of the shaman; the medicine-bag of the Indian are all used for precisely the same purpose as the ring of Hecate; the divining rod and the magic wand of the enchanter. Legend and amulet, mummy and wax-figure, herb and stone, drug and elixir, incense and ointment, are all but the means, which the strong will of the gifted Master uses in order to influence and finally to control the weaker mind. Thus powerful perfumes, narcotic odors, and anæsthetic salves are employed to produce enervation and often actual and complete loss of self-control; in other cases the neophyte has to turn round and round within the magic circle, from east to west, till he becomes giddy and utterly exhausted. It is very curious to observe how, as far as these preparations go, in the most distant countries and among the most different forms of society the same means are employed for the same purpose: the whirling dance of the fanatic dervish is perfectly analogous to the wild raving of our Indian medicine-man, who ties himself with a rope to a post and then whirls around it in fierce fury. Thus, also, the oldest magicians speak with profound reverence of the powers of a little herb, known to botanists as Hypericum perforatum L., and behold! in the year 1860 a German author of eminence, Justinus Kerner, still taught seriously, that the leaves of that plant were the best means to banish evil spirits! Mandrake and elder have held their own in the false faith of nations from the oldest times to our day, and even now Germans as well as slaves love to plant the latter everywhere in their graveyards, as suggestive of the realm of spirits!
White Magic, though strictly forbidden by the Church in all ages, seems nevertheless to have had irresistible attractions for wise and learned men of every country. This charm it owes to the many elements of truth which are mixed up with the final error; for it aims at a thorough understanding of the mysteries of Nature—and so far its purpose is legitimate and very tempting to superior minds—but only in order to obtain by such knowledge a power which Holy Writ expressly denies to man. When it prescribes the study of Nature as being the outer temple of God and represents all the parts of this vast edifice, from the central sun of the universe to the minutest living creation, as bound up by a common sympathy, no objection can be made to its doctrines, and even the greatest minds may fairly enroll themselves here as its pupils. But when it ascribes to this sympathy an active power and attributes to secret names of the Deity, to certain natural products, or to mechanically regulated combinations of the stars, a peculiar and supernatural effect, it sinks into contemptible superstition. Hence the constant aim of all White Magic, the successful summoning of superior spirits for the purpose of learning from them what is purposely kept concealed from the mind of man, has never yet been reached. For it is sin, the same sin that craved to eat from the tree of knowledge. Hence, also, no beneficial end has ever yet been obtained by the practices of magic, although wise and learned men of every age have spent their lives and risked the salvation of their souls in restless efforts to lift the veil of Isis.
Black Magic, the Kishuph of the Hebrews, avows openly its purpose of forming a league with evil spirits in order to attain selfish ends, which are invariably fatal to others. And yet it is exactly here that we meet with great numbers of well-authenticated cases of success, which preclude all doubt and force us to admit the occasional efficiency of such sinful alliances. The art flourishes naturally best among the lowest races of mankind, where gross ignorance is allied with blind faith, and the absence of inspiration leaves the mind in natural darkness. We cannot help being struck here also with the fact that the means employed for such purposes have been the same in almost all ages. Readers of classic writers are familiar with the drum of Cybele—the Laplanders have from time immemorial had the same drum, on which heaven, hell, and earth are painted in bright colors, and reproduce in pictorial writing the letters of the modern spiritualist. A ring is placed upon the tightly stretched skin, which slight blows with a hammer cause to vibrate, and according to the apparently erratic motions of the ring over the varied figures of gods, men, and beasts, the future is revealed. The consulting savage lies on his knees, and as the pendulum between our fingers and the pencil of Planchette in our hand write apparently at haphazard, but in reality under the pressure of our muscles acting through the unconscious influence of our will, so here also the beats of the hammer only seem to be fortuitous, but, in reality, are guided by the ecstatic owner. For already Olaf Magnus ("Hist. Goth." L. 3, ch. 26) tells us that the incessant beating of the drum, and the wild, exulting singing of the magician for hours before the actual ceremony begins, cause him to fall into a state of exaltation, without which he would be unable to see the future. That the drum is a mere accident in the ceremony was strikingly proved by a Laplander, who delivered up his instrument of witchcraft to the pious missionary (Tornaeus) by whom he had been converted, and who soon came to complain that even without his drum he could not help seeing hidden things—an assertion which he proved by reciting to the amazed minister all the minute details of his recent journey. Who can help, while reading of these savage magicians, recalling the familiar ring and drumstick in the left hand of the Roman Isis—statues with a drum above the head, or the rarely missing ring and hammer in the hands of the Egyptian Isis? It need hardly be added that the Indians of our continent have practised the art with more or less success from the day of discovery to our own times. Already Wafer in his "Descr. of the Isthmus of Darien" (1699) describes how Indian sorcerers, after careful preparation, were able to inform him of a number of future events, every one of which came to pass in the succeeding days. The prince of Neu-Wied again met a famous medicine-man among the Crea Indians, whose prophecies were readily accepted by the whites even, and of whose power he witnessed unmistakable evidence. Bonduel, a well-known and generally perfectly trustworthy writer, affirms, from personal knowledge, that among the Menomonees the medicine-men not only practise magic, but are able to produce most astounding results. After beating their drum, Bonduel used to hear a heavy fall and a faint, inarticulate voice, whereupon the tent of the charmer though fifteen feet high, rose in the air and inclined first on one and then on the other side. This was the time of the interview between the medicine-man and the evil spirit. Small doll-like figures of men also were used, barely two inches long, and tied to medicine-bags. They served mainly to inflame women with loving ardor, and when efficient could drive the poor creatures to pursue their beloved for days and nights through the wild forests. Other missionaries also affirm that these medicine-men must have been able to read the signs and perhaps to feel in advance the effects of the weather with amazing accuracy, since they frequently engaged to procure storms for special purposes, and never failed. It is interesting to notice that according to the unanimous testimony of all writers on Indian affairs, these medicine-men almost invariably find a violent and wretched death.
It is not without interest to recall that the prevailing forms of the magic of our day, as far as they consist of table-moving, spirit-rapping, and the like, have their origin among the natives of our continent. The earliest notice of these strange performances appeared in the great journal of Augsburg, in Germany (Allgemeine Zeitung), where Andree mentioned their occurrence among Western Indians. Sargent gave us next a more detailed description of the manner in which many a wigwam or log-cabin in Iowa became the scene of startling revelations by means of a clumsy table which hopped merrily about, or a half-drunk, red-skinned medium, from whose lips fell uncouth words. (Spicer, "Lights and Sounds," p. 190.) It was only in 1847 that the famous Fox family brought these phenomena within the pale of civilization: having rented a house in Hydeville, N. Y., already ill-reputed on account of mysterious noises, they reduced these knockings to a kind of system, and, by means of an alphabet, obtained the important information that they were the work of a "spirit," and that his name was Charles Ray. Margaret Fox transplanted the rappings to Rochester; Catherine, only twelve years old, to Auburn, and from these two central places the new Magic spread rapidly throughout the Union. Opposition and persecutions served, as they are apt to do, only to increase the interest of the public. A Mrs. Norman Culver proved, it is true, that rappings could easily be produced by certain muscular movements of the knee and the ankle, and a committee of investigation, of which Fenimore Cooper was a member, obtained ample evidence of such a method being used; but the faith of the believers was not shaken. The moving of tables, especially, furnished to their minds new evidence of the actual presence of spirits, and soon circles were established in nearly all the Northern and Western States, formed by persons of education without regard to confession, who called themselves Spiritualists or Spiritists, and their most favored associates Media. A number of men, whose intelligence and candor were alike unimpeachable, became members of the new sect, among them a judge, a governor of a State, and a professor of chemistry. They organized societies and circles, they published journals and several works of interest and value, and produced results which more and more strengthened their convictions.
The new art met, naturally, with much opposition, especially among the ministers and members of the different churches. Some of the opponents laughed at the whole as a clever jugglery, which deserved its great success on account of the "smartness" of the performers; others denounced it as a heresy and a crime; the former, of course, saw in it nothing but the hand of man, while the latter admitted the agency of spirits, but of spirits from below and not from above. An amusing feature connected with public opinion on this subject was, that when trade was prosperous and money abundant, spiritualism also flourished and found numerous adherents, but when business was slow, or a crisis took place, all minds turned away from the favorite pastime, and instinctively joined once more with the pious believers in the denunciation of the new magic. Thus a kind of antagonism has gradually arisen between orthodox Christians and enthusiastic spiritualists; the controversy is carried on with great energy on both sides, and, alas! to the eye of the general observer, magic is gaining ground every day, at least its adherents increase steadily in numbers, and even in social weight. (Tuttle, "Arena of Nature.") Not long ago the National Convention of Spiritualists, at their great meeting at Rochester, N.Y. (August, 1868), laid down nineteen fundamental principles of their new creed; their doctrines are based upon the fact that we are constantly surrounded by an invisible host of spirits, who desire to help us in returning once more to the father of all things, the Great Spirit.
Modern magic met with the same opposition in Europe. The French Academy, claiming, as usually, to be supreme authority in all matters of science, declined, nevertheless, to decide the question. Arago, who read the official report before the august body, closed with the words: "I do not believe a word of it!" but his colleagues remembered, perhaps, that their predecessors had once or twice before committed themselves grievously. Had not the same Academy pronounced against the use of quinine and vaccination, against lightning-rods and steam-engines? Had not Réaumur suppressed Peyssonel's "Essay on Corals," because he thought it was madness to maintain their animal nature; had not his learned brethren decreed, in 1802, that there were no meteors, although a short time later two thousand fell in one department alone; and had they not, more recently still, received the news of ether being useful as an anæsthetic with scorn and unanimous condemnation? Perhaps they recalled Dr. Hare's assertion that our own Society for the Advancement of Useful Knowledge had, in 1855, refused to hear a report on Spiritualism, preferring to discuss the important question: "Why do roosters always crow between midnight and one o'clock?" At all events they heard the report and remained silent. In the same manner Alexander von Humboldt refused to examine the question. This indifference did not, however, check the growth of Spiritualism in France, but its followers divided into two parties: spiritualists, under Rivail, who called himself Allan Cardec, and spiritists, under Piérard. The former died in 1869, after having seen his Livre des Esprits reappear in fifteen editions; to seal his mission, he sent, immediately after his death, his spirit to inform his eager pupils, who crowded around the dead body of their leader, of his first impressions in the spirit world. If the style is the man (le style c'est l'homme), no one could doubt that it was his spirit who spoke.
Perhaps the most estimable high-priest of this branch of modern magic is a well known professor of Geneva, Roessinger, a physician of great renown and much beloved by all who know him. He is, however, a rock of offense to American spiritualists, because he has ever remained firmly attached to his religious faith, and admits no spiritual revelations as genuine which do not entirely harmonize with the doctrines of Christ and the statements of the Bible. Unfortunately this leads him to believe that his favorite medium, a young lady enjoying the mystic name of Libna, speaks under the direct inspiration of God himself! In England the new magic has not only numerous but also influential adherents, like Lord Lytton and the Darwinian Wallace; papers like the Star and journals like the Cornhill Magazine, support it with ability, and names like Home in former years and Newton in our day, who not only reveal secrets but actually heal the sick, have given a new prestige to the young science. The works of Howitt and Dr. Ashburner, of Mrs. Morgan and Mrs. Crossland have treated the subject under various aspects, and in the year 1871, Crookes, a well-known chemist, investigated the phenomena of Home's revelations by means of an apparatus specially devised for the purpose. The result was the conviction that if not spiritual, they were at least not produced by any power now known to science.—Quart. Journ. of Science, July, 1871.
In Germany the new magic has been far less popular than elsewhere, but, in return, it has been there most thoroughly investigated. Men of great eminence in science and in philosophy have published extensive works on the subject, which are, however, more remarkable for zeal and industry than for acute judgment. Gerster in Regensburg claimed to have invented the Psychography, but Szapary in Paris and Cohnfeld in Berlin discovered at the same time the curious instrument known to us as Planchette. The most practical measure taken in Germany for the purpose of ascertaining the truth was probably the formation of a society for spirit studies, which met for the first time in Dresden in 1869, and purposes to obtain an insight into those laws of nature which are reported to make it possible to hold direct and constant intercourse with the world of spirits. Here, as in the whole tendency of this branch of magic, we see the workings not merely of idle curiosity but of that ardent longing after a knowledge of the future and a certainty of personal eternity, which dwells in the hearts of all men.
The phenomena of modern magic were first imperfect rappings against the wall, the legs of a table or a chair, accompanied by the motion of tables; then followed spirit-writing by the aid of a psychograph or a simple pencil, and finally came direct "spirit-writings," drawings by the media, together with musical and poetical inspirations, the whole reaching a climax in spirit-photographs. The ringing of bells, the dancing of detached hands in the air, the raising up of the entire body of a man, and musical performances without human aid were only accomplished in a few cases by specially favored individuals. Two facts alone are fully established in connection with all these phenomena: one, that some of the latter at least are not produced by the ordinary forces of nature; and the other, that the performers are generally, and the medium always, in a more or less complete state of trance. In this condition they forget themselves, give their mind up entirely into the hands of others—the media—and candidly believe they see and hear what they are told by the latter is taking place in their presence. Hence also the well-established fact that the spirits have never yet revealed a single secret, nor ever made known to us anything really new. Their style is invariably the same as that in which ecstatic and somnambulistic persons are apt to speak. A famous German spiritualist, Hornung, whose faith was well known, once laid his hands upon his planchette together with his wife, and then asked if there really was a world of spirits? To the utter astonishment of all present, the psychograph replied No! and when questioned again and again, became troublesome. The fact was simply that the would-be magician's wife did not believe in spirits, and as hers was the stronger will, the answer came from her mind and not from her husband's. On the other hand, it cannot be denied that media—most frequently delicate women of high nervous sensibility, and almost always leading lives of constant and wearying excitement—become on such occasions wrought up to a degree which resembles somnambulism and may really enable them, occasionally, in a state of clairvoyance, to see what is hidden to others. It is they who are "vitalized," as they call it, and not the knocking table, or the writing planchette, and hence arises the necessity of a medium for all such communications. That there are no spirits at work in these phenomena requires hardly to be stated; even the most ardent and enthusiastic adherents of the new magic cannot deny, that no original revelation concerning the world of spirits has yet been made, but that all that is told is but an echo of the more or less familiar views of men. It is far more interesting to notice, with Coleman, the electric and hygroscopic condition of the atmosphere, which has evidently much to do with such exhibitions. The visions of hands, arms, and heads, which move about in the air and may occasionally even be felt, are either mere hallucinations or real objective appearances, due to a peculiar condition of the air, and favorably interpreted by the predisposed mind. Hence, also, our own continent is, for its superior dryness of atmosphere, much more favorable to the development of such phenomena than that of Europe.
Spiritualists in the Old as in the New World are hopeful that the new magic will produce a new universal religion, and a better social order. In this direction, however, no substantial success has yet been obtained. Outsiders had expected that at least an intercourse with departed spirits might be secured, and thus the immortality of man might be practically demonstrated. But this also has not yet been done. What then can we learn from modern magic? Only this: that there are evidently forces in nature with whose character and precise intent we are not yet acquainted, and which yet deserve to be studied and carefully analyzed. Modern magic exhibits certain phenomena in man which are not subject to the known laws of nature, and thus proves that man possesses certain powers which he fails or does not know how to exert in ordinary life. Where these powers appear in consequence of special preparation or an exceptional condition of mind, they are comparatively worthless, because they are in such cases merely the result of physical or mental disease, and we can hope to profit only by powers employed by sound men. But where these powers become manifest by spontaneous action, apparently as the result of special endowment, they deserve careful study, and all the respect due to a new and unknown branch of knowledge.
Nor must it be overlooked, that, although modern magic as a science is new, most of the phenomena upon which it is based, were well known to the oldest nations. The Chinese, who seem to have possessed all the knowledge of mankind, ages before it could be useful to them, or to others, and to have lost it as soon as there was a call for it, had, centuries ago, not only moving tables, but even writing spirits. Their modern planchette is a small board, which they let float upon the water, with the legs upward; they rest their hands upon the latter, and watch the gyrations it makes in the water. Or they hold a small basket with a camel's-hair brush attached to one end suspended over a table upon which they have strewn a layer of flour; the brush begins to move through the flour and to draw characters in it, which they interpret according to their alphabet. The priests of Buddha in Mongolia, also, have long since employed moving tables, and for a good purpose, usually to detect thieves. The lama, who is appealed to for the purpose, sits down before a small four-legged table, upon which he rests his hands, whilst reading a book of devotion. After perhaps half an hour, he rises, and as he does so, holding his hand steadily upon the table, the table also rises and follows his hand, which he raises till hand and table are both level with his eyes. Then the priest advances, the table precedes him, and soon begins to move at such a rate that it seems to fly through the air, and the lama can hardly follow. Sometimes it falls down upon the very spot where the stolen goods are hidden; at other times it only indicates the direction in which they are to be sought for; and not unfrequently it refuses altogether to move, in which event the priest abandons the case as hopeless. (Nord. Biene, April 27, 1853.) Here also it is evident that the table is not the controlling agent, but the will of the lama, whom it obeys by one of those mysterious powers which we call magic. It is the same force which acts in the divining rod, the pendulum, and similar phenomena.
The name of Medium is an American invention, and is based upon the assumption that only a few favored persons are able to enter into direct communication with spirits, who may then convey the revelations they receive to others. They are generally children and young persons, but among grown men also certain constitutions seem to be better adapted to such purposes than others. In almost all cases it has been observed, that the electric condition of the medium is a feature of greatest importance; the more electricity he possesses, the better is he able to produce magic phenomena, and when his supply is exhausted by a long session, his power also ceases. Hence, perhaps, the peculiar qualification of children; while, on the other hand, the fact that they not unfrequently are able to answer questions, in languages, of which they are ignorant, proves that they also do not themselves give the reply, but only receive it from the questioner, and state it as it exists in the mind of the latter. Hence, also, the utter absurdity of so-called spirit paintings, and, still worse, of poetical effusions like Mr. Harris' "Lyric of the Golden Age," in eleven thousand four hundred and thirty wretched verses. For what the "circle" does not know individually or collectively, the medium also is not able to produce. This truth is made still more evident by the latest phenomena developed in spiritualistic circles, the so-called trance speaking, which may be heard occasionally in New York circles, and which requires no interposition of a medium. For here, also, we are struck by the utter absence of usefulness in all these revelations; the inspired believers speak, they recite poetry, but it remains literally vox et præterea nihil, and we are forcibly reminded of the words of Æschylus, who already said in his "Agamemnon" (v. 1127),
"Did ever seers afford delight?
The long practised art of all the seers whom
Ever the gods inspired, revealed
Naught but horrors and a wretched fate."
Among the media of our day, Home is naturally facile princeps. A Scotchman by birth, he claims that his mother already possessed the gift of Second Sight, and that in their home near Edinburgh similar endowments were frequent among their neighbors. At the age of three years he saw the death of a cousin, who lived in a distant town, and named the persons who were standing around her couch; he conversed constantly in his childish way with spirits and heard heavenly music; his cradle was rocked by invisible hands, and his toys came unaided into his hands. When ten years old he was taken to an aunt in America, in whose house he had no sooner been installed than chairs and tables, beds and utensils, began to move about in wild disorder, till the terrified lady sent the unlucky boy away. Attending once an exhibition of table-moving he fell into fits and suddenly became cataleptic; during the paroxysm he heard a summoning, then the spirits announced the wrecking of two sailors, the table began to rock as in a storm, the whistling of the wind through the tackle, the creaking of the vessel, and the dull, heavy thud of the waves against her bows, all were distinctly heard, and finally the table was upset, while the spirits announced the name and the age of the perishing seamen. From that day Home carefully cultivated his strange gifts, and developed what he considered a decided talent for reading the future. As a young man he returned to Europe and soon became famous. Florence was, for a time, the principal stage of his successes; here he not only summoned the spirits of the departed, but was raised by invisible powers from the ground and hovered for some time above the heads of his visitors. The superstitious Italians finally became excited and threatened him with death, from which a Count Branichi saved him at great personal peril. In Naples the spirits suddenly declared their intention to leave him on February 10, 1856, and to remain absent for a whole year; they did so, and during the interval Home enjoyed better health than ever in his life! In Rome he became a Catholic, and good Pio Nono himself offered him his crucifix to kiss, with the words: "That is the only true magic wand!"—unfortunately this was not Home's view always; at least we find him in 1864 in the same city in conflict with the papal police, who ordered him to cease all intercourse "with higher as well as with lower spirits," and finally compelled him to leave the Eternal City. He then claimed publicly, what, it must not be forgotten, he had consistently maintained from the beginning of his marvelous career, that he was the unwilling agent of higher powers, which affected him at irregular times, independent of his will, and often contrary to his dearest wishes. It must be added that he gave the strongest proof of his sincerity by never accepting from the public pecuniary compensation for the exhibition of peculiar powers.
His exterior is winning; he is of medium height, light-haired and light-complexioned, of slender figure; simple and well-bred in his manners, and of irreproachable morale. The highest circles of society have always been open to him, and his marriage with a daughter of the Russian general Stroll has given him wealth and an agreeable position in the world. As the spirits had predicted, they returned on the 10th of February, 1857, and announced themselves by repeated gentle knockings—in other words, Home's former nervous disease returned, and with it his exceptionable powers. He was then in Paris, and soon excited the attention of the fair but superstitious Empress, whose favor he speedily obtained by a revelation concerning the "Empereur de l'avenir," as the spirits had the gallantry to call her infant son. Napoleon also began to take an interest in the clever, talented man, whose special gifts did not prevent him from being a pliant courtier and a cunning observer. He showed himself grateful for the kindness with which Eugenie provided for his sister's education by exerting his powers to the utmost at the Tuileries, and by revealing to the Emperor the secrets he had skillfully elicited during his spiritual sessions, from statesmen and generals. At the house of Prince Murat he performed, perhaps, the most surprising feats he has ever accomplished: seated quietly in his arm-chair, he caused tables to whirl around, the clocks in two rooms to stand still or to go at will, all the bells in the house to ring together or separately, and handkerchiefs to escape irresistibly from the hands and the pockets of several persons, the Emperor included. Then the floor seemed to sink, all the doors of the house were slammed to and opened again, the gaslights became extinct, and when they as suddenly blazed up again, Home had disappeared without saying good-bye. The guests left the house quietly and in a state of great and painful excitement. At another exhibition in Prince Napoleon's house, a renowned juggler was present by invitation to watch Home, but he declared, soon, that there was no jugglery, such as he knew, in what he saw, and the meeting, during which the most startling phenomena were exhibited, ended by Home's falling into a state of fearful catalepsy. Perhaps nothing can speak more clearly of the deep interest felt in the modern magician by the highest in the land, than the fact that more than once private sessions were held at the Tuileries, at which, besides himself, the Emperor and the Empress, only one person was allowed to be present, the Duke of Montebello. It is said, though not by Home himself, that at one of these meetings the sad fate of the Empire was clearly predicted, and even the time of the Emperor's death ascertained. One achievement of modern magic in which Home is unique, is the raising of his body into the air; no other person having as yet even attempted the same exploit. He is lifted up in a horizontal position, sometimes only to a short distance from the floor, but not unfrequently, also, nearly to the ceiling; on one occasion, in Bordeaux, he remained thus suspended in the sight of several persons for five minutes. Another speciality of his, is the lengthening of his body. According to a statement deserving full credit ("Human Nature," Dec. 1868), he can, when in a state of trance, add four inches to his stature! Finally, he has been repeatedly seen passing in the air out of one window of the room in which his visitors were assembled, and returning through another window, an exhibition which almost always ended in the complete exhaustion and apparent illness of the magician.
Home himself maintains that he performs no miracles, and is not able to cause the laws of nature to be suspended for a moment, but that he is gifted with an exceptional power to employ faculties which he possesses in common with all his brethren. In him they are active; in the vast majority of men they lie dormant, because man is no longer conscious of the full and absolute control over Nature, with which he has been endowed by the Creator. He adds that it is faith alone, without the aid of spirits, which enables him to cause mysterious lights to be seen, or heavy pieces of furniture to move about in the air, and to produce strange sounds and peculiar visions in the mind of his friends. On the other hand, when he is lifted up into the air, or enabled to read the future, and to reveal what absent persons are doing at the moment, he professes to act as a willingless instrument of spirits, having neither the power to provoke his ability to perform these feats, nor to lay it aside at will. Occasionally he professes to be conscious of an electric current, which he is able to produce at certain times and in a certain state of mind; this emanation protects his body against influences fatal to others, and enables him, for instance, to hold live coals in his hand, and to thrust his whole head into the chimney fire. This "certain state of mind," as he calls it, is simply a state of trance. Hence the extremely variable nature of his performances, and his great reluctance to appear as a magician at the request of others. Nor is he himself always quite sure of his own condition; thus, in the winter of 1870, when he wished to exhibit some of the simplest phenomena in the presence of a number of savants in St. Petersburg, he failed so completely in every effort, that the committee reported him virtually, though not in terms, an impostor. The same happened to him at a first examination held by Mr. Crookes, a well-known professor of chemistry, in company with Messrs. Cox and Huggins; they did not abandon their purpose, however, and at the next meeting, when certain antipathic spectators were no longer present, Home displayed the most remarkable phenomena. The committee came to the conclusion that he was enabled to perform these feats by means of a new "psychic force," which it was all-important for men of science to investigate thoroughly.
The number of men and women who possess similar endowments, though generally in an inferior degree only, is very great, especially in the United States. Only one feature is common to them all—the state of trance in which they are enabled to produce such startling phenomena—in all other respects they differ widely, both as to the nature of their performances and as to their credibility. For, from the first appearance of media in spiritualistic circles, in fact, probably already in the exhibitions of the Fox family, delusion and willful deception have been mixed up with actual magic. Tables have been moved by clever legerdemain; spirit rappings have been produced by cunning efforts of muscles and sinews; ventriloquists have used their art to cause extraordinary noises in the air, and Pepper's famous ghosts have shown the facility with which the eye may be deceived and the other senses be taken captive. The most successful deception was practised by the so-called Davenport Brothers, whose well-known exhibitions excited universal interest, as long as the impression lasted that they were the work of invisible spirits, while they became even more popular and attractive when their true nature had been discovered, on account of the exquisite skill with which these juggling tricks were performed.
The masters of physical science have amply proved that table-moving is a simple mechanical art. Faraday and Babinet already called attention to the fact that the smallest muscles of the human body can produce great effects, when judiciously employed, and cited, among other instances, the so-called Electric Girl, exhibited in Paris, who hurled a chair on which she had been sitting, by muscular power alone, to a great distance. The same feat, it is well-known, has been repeatedly accomplished by other persons also. Like muscular efforts are made—no doubt often quite unconsciously—by persons whose will acts energetically, and when several men co-operate the force of vibrations produced in a kind of rhythmical tact, becomes truly astounding. We need only remember, that the rolling of a heavily laden cart in the streets may shake a vast, well-built edifice from roof to cellar, and that the regular tramp of a detachment of men has more than once caused suspension bridges, of great and well-tried strength, to break and to bury hundreds of men under their ruins. Thus a few children and delicate women alone can, by an hour's steady work and undivided attention, move tables of such weight that a number of strong men can lift them only with difficulty. The only really new force which has ever appeared in this branch of modern magic is the Od of Baron Reichenbach; its presence and efficacy cannot be denied, although the manner in which it operates is still a mystery. In the summer of 1861 the German baron found himself in a company of table-movers at the house of Lord William Cowper, the son-in-law of Lord Palmerston. To prove his faith he crept under the heavy dining-table, resting with his full weight on one of the three solid feet and grasping the other two firmly with his hands. The wood began to emit low, electric sounds, then came louder noises as when furniture cracks in extremely dry weather, and finally the table began to move. Reichenbach did his best to prevent the movement, but the table rushed down the room, dragging the unlucky baron with it, to the intense amusement of all the persons present. The German savant maintains that this power, possessed only by the privileged few who are peculiarly sensitive, emanates from the tips of the fingers, becomes luminous in the dark, and acts like a lever upon all obstacles that come in its way. As the existence of Od is established beyond all doubt, and its effects are admitted by all who have studied the subject, we are forced to look upon it as at least one of the mysterious elements of modern magic.
The Od is, as far as we know, a magnetic force; for as soon as certain persons are magnetized they become conscious of peculiar sensations, heat or cold, headache or other pains, and, if predisposed, of a startling increase of power in all their senses. They see lights of every kind, can distinguish even minute objects in a dark room, and behold beautiful white flames upon the poles of magnets. Reichenbach obtained, as he believed, two remarkable results from these first phenomena. He concluded that polar lights, aurora boreales, etc., were identical with the magnetic light of the earth, and he discovered that sensitive, sickly persons, who were peculiarly susceptible to magnetic influences, ought to lie with the head to the north, and the feet to the south in order to obtain refreshing sleep. The next step was an effort to identify the Od with animal magnetism; Reichenbach found that cataleptic patients who perceived the presence of magnets with exquisite accuracy, and followed them like mesmerized persons, were affected alike by his own hands or those of other perfectly sound, but strongly magnetic men. He could attract such unfortunate persons by his outstretched fingers, and force them to follow him in a state of unconsciousness wherever he led them. According to his theory, the two sides of man are of opposite electric nature and a magnetic current passes continually from one side to the other; sensitive persons though blind-folded, know perfectly well on which side they approach others.
Gradually Baron Reichenbach extended the range of his experiments, employing for that purpose, besides his own daughter, especially a Miss Nowotny, a sad sufferer from cataleptic attacks. She was able to distinguish, by the sensations which were excited in her whole system, more than six hundred chemicals, and arranged them, under his guidance, according to their electro-chemical force. Another sick woman, Miss Maiss, felt a cool wind whenever certain substances were brought near her, and by these and similar efforts in which the baron was aided by many friends, he ascertained the fact, that there is in nature a force which passes through all substances, the human body included, and is inherent in the whole material world. This force he calls the Od. Like electricity and magnetism, this Od is a polar force, and here also opposite poles attract, like poles repel each other. The whole subject, although as yet only in its infancy, is well deserving of careful study and thorough investigation.
The manifestations of so-called spirits have naturally excited much attention, and given rise to the bitterest attacks. In England, especially, the learned world is all on one side and the Spiritualists all on the other; nor do they hesitate to say very bitter things of each other. The Saturday Review, more forcibly than courteously, speaks of American spiritualists thus: "If this is the spirit world, and if this is spiritual intelligence, and if all the spirits can do, is to whisk about in dark rooms, and pinch people's legs under the table, and play 'Home, Sweet Home,' on the accordeon, and kiss folks in the dark, and paint baby pictures, and write such sentimental, namby-pamby as Mr. Coleman copies out from their dictation—it is much better to be a respectable pig and accept annihilation than to be cursed with such an immortality as this." To which the Spiritual Magazine (Jan., 1862), does not hesitate to reply. "We shall not eat breakfast bacon for some time, for fear of getting a slice of the editor of the Saturday Review, in his self-sought appropriate metempsychosis." It must be borne in mind, however, that spiritualists everywhere appeal to their own reason as the highest tribunal before which such questions can be decided, and to the laws of nature, because as they say, they are identical with the laws of practical reason. They believe, as a body, neither in angels nor in demons. Their spirits are simply the purified souls of departed men. Protestant theologians, who admit of no purgatory, see in these exhibitions nothing but the deeds of Satan. Catholic divines, on the other hand, and Protestant mystics, who, like the German, Schubert, believe that there exist what they curiously enough call a "more peaceful infernal spirit," ascribe them to the agency of evil spirits. In the great majority of cases, however, the spirits have clearly shown themselves nothing else but the product of the media. The latter, invariably either of diseased mind by nature or over-excited for the occasion, believe they see and hear manifestations in the outer world, which in reality exist only in their own consciousness. A Catholic medium is thus visited by spirits from heaven and hell, while the Protestant medium never meets souls from purgatory. Nothing has ever been revealed concerning the future state of man, that was not already well known upon earth. Most diverting are the jealousies of great spirits, of Solomon and Socrates, Moses and Plato—when the media happen to be jealous of each other! A somewhat satirical writer on the subject explains even the fact that spirits so often contradict each other and say vile things of sacred subjects, by the inner wickedness of the media, which comes to light on such occasions, while they carefully conceal it in ordinary life! If these spirits are really the creations of the inner magic life, of which we are just learning to know the first elementary signs, then the powers which are hidden within us may well terrify us as they appear in such exhibitions, while we will not be surprised at the manner in which many an ordinary mortal appears here as a poet or a prophet—if not as a wicked demon. Nor must it be overlooked that our memory holds vast treasures of knowledge of which we are utterly unconscious until, under certain circumstances, one or the other fact suddenly reappears before our mind's eye. The very fact that we can, by a great effort and continued appeals to our memory, recall at last what was apparently utterly forgotten, proves the presence of such knowledge. A state of intense excitement, of fever or of trance, is peculiarly favorable to the recovery of such hidden treasures, and there can be no doubt that many a medium honestly believes to receive a new revelation, when only old, long forgotten facts return to his consciousness. Generally however, we repeat, nothing is in the spirit that is not in the medium. The American spiritualist conjures up only his own countrymen, and occasionally some world-renowned heroes like Napoleon or Cæsar, Shakespeare or Schiller, while the cosmopolitan German receives visits from men of all countries. Finally it must be borne in mind that, according to an old proverb, we are ever ready to believe what we wish to see or hear, and hence the amazing credulity of the majority of spiritualists. Even skeptics are not free from the influence of this tendency. When Dr. Bell, the eminent physician of Somerville, Mass., investigated these phenomena of modern magic, many years ago, he promptly noticed that the spirits never gave information which was not already in the possession of one or the other person present. Only in a few cases he acknowledged with his usual candor, and at once, at the meeting itself, that a true answer was returned. But when he examined, after his return home, these few exceptional revelations, he discovered that he had been mistaken, and that these answers had been after all as illusory as the others.
There can be no doubt therefore, that modern magic, as far as it consists in table-moving and spirit-rapping, with their usual accompaniments, is neither the work of mechanical jugglery exclusively, nor, on the other hand, the result of revelations made by spirits. In the mass of accumulated evidence there remain however, after sifting it carefully, many facts which cannot be explained according to the ordinary course of nature. The power which produces these phenomena must be classified with other well-known powers given to man under exceptional circumstances, such as the safety of somnambulists in dangerous places; the cures performed by faith, and the strange exhibitions made by diseased persons, suffering of catalepsy and similar affections. If men, under the influence of mesmerism, in a state of ecstatic fervor, or under the pressure of strong and long-continued excitement, show powers which are not possessed by man naturally, then modern magic also may well be admitted as one of the means by which such extraordinary, and as yet unexplored forces are brought to light. All that can be reasonably asked of those who so peremptorily challenge our admiration, and demand our respect for the new science, is that it shall be proved to be useful to man, and this proof is, as yet, altogether wanting.
In Mexico the preparation for acts of magic seems to have been downright intoxication; at least we learn from Acosta, in his Hist. nat. y moral de los Indias (lv.), that the priests, before sacrificing, inhaled powerful perfumes, rubbed themselves with ointments made of venomous animals, tobacco and hempseed, and finally drank chica mixed with various drugs. Thus they reached a state of exaltation in which they not only butchered numbers of human beings in cold blood, and lost all fear of wild beasts, but were also able to reveal what was happening at a great distance, or even future events. We find similar practices, also, nearer home. The Indians of Martha's Vineyard had, before they were converted, their skillful magicians, who stood in league with evil spirits, and as pawaws discovered stolen things, injured men at a distance, and clearly foretold the coming of the whites. The pious Brainert gives us full accounts of some of the converted Delawares, who, after baptism, felt the evil spirit depart from them, and lost the power of magic. One, a great and wicked magician, deplored bitterly his former condition, when he was a slave of the evil one, and became, in the good missionary's words: "an humble, devout, hearty, and loving Christian." It is more difficult to explain the magic of the so-called Archbishop Beissel, the head of the brotherhood at Ephrata, in Pennsylvania, who, according to contemporary authorities "oppressed by his magic the father and steward of the convent, Eckerling, to such a degree, that he left his brethren and sought refuge in a hermit's hut in the forest! The spirits of departed brethren and sisters returned to the refectory at this bishop's bidding; they partook of bread and meat, and even conversed with their successors. There can be no doubt that Beissel, abundantly and exceptionally gifted, possessed the power to put his unhappy subordinates, already exhausted by asceticism of every kind, into a state of ecstasy, in which they sincerely believed they saw these spirits, and were subjected to magic influences. That such power has by no means entirely departed from our continent, may be seen in the atrocities perpetrated at the command of the negroes' Obee, of which well-authenticated records abound in Florida and Louisiana, as well as in Cuba.
The Indo-Germanic race has known and practised black magic from time immemorial, and the Vendidad already explains it as an act which Ahriman, the Evil Spirit, brought forth when overshadowed by death. In Egypt it flourished for ages, and has never become entirely extinct. Jannes and Jambres, who led the priests in their opposition to Moses (2. Tim. iii. 8), have their successors in our day, and the very miracles performed by these ancient charmers have been witnessed again and again by modern travelers. Holy Writ abounds with instances of every kind of magic; it speaks of astrology, and prophesying from arrows, from the entrails of animals, and from dreams; but, strangely enough, the charming of serpents and the evil eye are not mentioned, if we except Balaam. The Kabbalah, on the contrary, speaks more than once of the evil eye (ain hara), and all the southern nations of Europe, as well as the Slavic races, fear its weird power.
The eye is, however, by no means employed only to work evil; by the side of their mal occhio the Italians have another gift, called attrativa, which enables man, apparently by the force of his eye only, to draw to himself all whom he wishes to attract. The well-known Saint Filippo Neri thus not only won all whom he wished to gain over, by looking at them, but even dogs left their beloved masters and followed him everywhere. Cotton Mather tells us in his "Magnolia" that quakers frequently by the eye only—though often, also, by anointing or breathing upon them—compelled others to accompany them, to join their communion, and to be in all things obedient to their bidding. Tom Case, himself a quaker, certainly possessed the power of overwhelming those at whom he looked fixedly for a while, to such a degree that they fell down as if struck with epilepsy; once, at least, he turned even a mad bull, by the force of his eye, till it approached him humbly and licked his hand like a pet dog. Even in our own age Goethe has admitted the power of certain men to attract others by the strength of their will, and mentions an instance in which he himself, ardently wishing to see his beloved one, forced her unconsciously to come and meet him halfway. (Eckermann, iii. 201.)
It avails nothing to stigmatize a faith so deeply rooted and so universal as mere superstition. Among the mass of errors which in the course of ages have accumulated around the creed, the little grain of truth, the indubitable power of man's mind to act through the eye, ought not to be overlooked.
It is the same with the magic known as such to the two great nations of antiquity. If the Greeks saw in Plato the son of Apollo, who came to his mother Perictione in the shape of a serpent, and in Alexander the Great the son of Jupiter Ammon, they probably intended merely to pay the same compliment to their countrymen which modern nations convey by calling their rulers Kings and Kaisers "by the Grace of God." But the consistency with which higher beings came to visit earth-born man in the shape of favored animals, is more than an accident. The sons of God came to see the daughters of men, though it is not said in what form they appeared, and the suggestion that they were the "giants upon the earth," mentioned in Holy Writ, is not supported; but exactly as the gods came from Olympus in the shape of bulls and rams, so the evil spirits of the Middle Ages appeared in the shape of rams and cats. A curious instance of the mixture of truth and falsehood appears in this connection. It is well-known that the Italians of the South look upon Virgil as one of the greatest magicians that ever lived, and ascribe to his tomb even now supernatural power. The poet himself had, of course, nothing whatever to do with magic; but his reputation as a magician arose from the fact that, next to the Bible, his verses became, at an early period, a favorite means of consulting the future. Sortes Virgilianæ, the lines which upon accidentally opening the volume first met the eye, were a leading feature of the art known as stichomania.
The story of the greatest magician mentioned in the New Testament has been thoroughly examined, and the main features, at least, are well established. Simon Magus was a magician in the sense in which the ancients used that term; but he possessed evidently, in addition, all the powers claimed by better spiritualists, like Home in our day. A native of Gitton, a small village of Samaria, he had early manifested superior intellectual gifts, accompanied by an almost marvelous control over the minds of others. By the aid of the former he produced a lofty gnostic system, which crumbled, however, to pieces as soon as it came into contact with the inspired system of Christianity. His influence over others led him, in the arrogance which is inherent to natural man, to consider himself as the Great Divine Power, which appeared in different forms as Father, Son, and Spirit. He professed to be able to make himself invisible and to pass, unimpeded, through solid substances—precisely as was done in later ages by Saint Dominic and other saints (Goerres. Mystic, ii. 576)—to bind and to loosen others as well as himself at will; to open prison doors and to cause trees to grow out of the bare ground. Before utterly rejecting his pretensions as mere lies and tricks, we must bear in mind two facts: first, that modern jugglers in India perform these very tricks in a manner as yet unexplained, and secondly, that he, in all probability, possessed merely the power of exciting others to a high state of exaltation, in which they candidly believed they saw all these things. At all events, his magic deeds were identical with the miracles of later saints, and as these are enthroned in shrine and statue in Rome, so the Eternal City erected to Simon Magus, also, a statue, and proclaimed him a god in the days of Claudius! Another celebrated magician of the same race, was Sedechias (Goerres. Mystic, iv. ii. 71), who lived in the days of Saint Louis, and who, once, in order to convince the skeptics of his day of the real existence of spirits, such as the Kabbalah admits, ordered them to appear in human form before the eyes of the monarch. Instantly the whole plain around the king's tent was alive with a vast army; long rows of bright-colored tents dotted the lowlands, and on the slopes around were encamped countless troops; whilst mounted squadrons appeared in the air, performing marvelous evolutions. This was probably the first instance of those airy hosts, which have ever since been seen in various countries.
The Christian era gave to magic phenomena a new and specific character; what was a miracle in apostolic times remained in the eyes of the multitude a miracle to our day, when performed by saints of the church—it became a crime and an abomination when the authors were laymen, and yet both differed in no single feature. The most remarkable representative of this dual nature of supernatural performances is, no doubt, Dr. Faust, whom the great and pious Melanchthon states to have well known as a native of the little village of Knittlingen, near his own birth-place, and as a man of dissolute habits, whom the Devil carried off in person. His motto, which has been discovered under a portrait of his (Hauber's "Bibl. Mag."), was characteristic of his faith: Omne bonum et perfectum a Deo, imperfectum a diabolo. His vast learning, his great power over the elements, and the popular story of his pact with the Evil One, made him a hero among the Germans, of whose national tendencies he was then the typical representative. Unfortunately, however, nearly every Christian land has had its own Faust; such was, for instance, in Spain the famous Dr. Toralba, who lived in the sixteenth century, and by the aid of a servile demon read the future, healed the sick, traveled through the air, and even when he fell into the hands of the Inquisition, obtained his release through the Great Admiral of Castile. Gilles de Laval, who was publicly burnt in 1440, and Lady Fowlis, of Scotland, are parallel cases.
One of the most absurd ceremonies belonging to black magic, was the well-known Taigheirm, of the Scotch Highlands, a demoniac sacrifice evidently handed down from pagan times. The so-called magician procured a large number of black cats, and devoted them, with solemn incantations, and while burning offensive incense of various kinds, to the evil spirits. Then the poor victims were spitted and slowly roasted over a fire of coals, one after the other, but so that not a second's pause occurred between the death of one and the sufferings of the next. This horridly absurd sacrifice had to be continued for three days and nights, during which the magician was not allowed to take any food or drink. The consequence was, that if he did not drop down exhausted and perish miserably, he became fearfully excited, and finally saw demons in the shape of black cats who granted him all he desired (Horst. "Deuteroscopia," ii. 184). It need hardly be added that in the state of clairvoyance which he had reached, he only asked for what he well knew was going to happen, and that all the fearful visions of hellish spirits existed only in his overwrought imagination. But it will surprise many to learn that such "taigheirms" were held as late as the last century, and that a place is still shown on the island of Mull, where Allan Maclean with his assistant, Lachlain Maclean, sacrificed black cats for four days and nights in succession. The elder of the two passed for a kind of high-priest and chief magician with the superstitious islanders; the other was a young unmarried man of fine appearance, and more than ordinary intelligence. Both survived the fearful ceremony, but sank utterly exhausted to the ground, unable to obtain the revelation which they had expected; nevertheless they retained the gift of second sight for their lives.
It must not be imagined, finally, that the summoning of spirits is a lost art; even in our day men are found who are willing to call the departed from their resting-place, and to exhibit them to the eyes of living men. The best explanation of this branch of magic was once given by a learned professor, whom the Prince Elector of Brandenburg, Frederick II., sent for from Halle, in order to learn from him how spirits could be summoned. The savant declared that nothing was easier, and supported his assertion by a number of actual performances. First the spectator was prepared by strong beverages, such as the Egyptian sorcerers already used to employ on similar occasions, and by the burning of incense. Soon he fell into a kind of half-sleep, in which he could still understand what was said, but no longer reflect upon the sense of the words; gradually his brain became so disturbed, and his imagination so highly excited, that he pictured to himself images corresponding to the words which he heard, and called them up before his mind's eye as realities. The magician, protected against the effects of the incense by a sponge filled with an alcoholic mixture, then began to converse with his visitor, and tried to learn from him all he could concerning the person the latter wished to see, his shape, his clothes, etc. Finally the victim was conducted into a dark room, where he was suddenly asked by a stern, imperious voice: "Do you not see that woman in white?" (or whatever the person might be,) and at once his over-excited imagination led him to think that he really beheld what he expected or wished to see. This was allowed to go on till he sank down exhausted, or actually fainted away. When he recovered his consciousness, he naturally recollected but imperfectly what he had seen while in a state of great excitement, and his memory, impaired by the intermediate utter exhaustion and fainting, failed to recall the small errors or minute inaccuracies of his vision. All that was left of the whole proceeding was a terrifying impression on his mind that he had really seen the spirits of departed friends.
Such skillful manœuvres were more than once employed for sinister purposes. Thus it is a well-known historical fact that the men who obtained control over King Frederick William II., after his ascension to the throne, and held it for a time by the visions which they showed him, employed means like these to summon the spirits he wished to see. The master in this branch of black magic was undoubtedly Joseph Balsamo, the Count Cagliostro of French history. He was neither a magician in the true sense of the word, nor even a religious enthusiast, but merely an accomplished juggler and swindler, who had acquired, by natural endowment, patient study, and consummate art, a great power over the minds of others. He played upon the imagination of men as upon a familiar instrument, and the greatest philosophers were as easily victimized by him as the most clear-sighted women, in spite of the natural instinct which generally protects the latter against such imposition. His secret—as far as the summoning of the spirits of the departed is concerned—has died with him, but that enlightened, conscientious men candidly believed they had been shown disembodied spirits, is too well established by memories of French and Dutch writers to be doubted. In the meetings of his "lodges of Egyptian Freemasons" he, as Grand Cophtha, or those whom he had qualified by breathing upon them, employed a boy or a girl, frequently called up at haphazard from the street, but at other times carefully prepared for the purpose, to look into the hand or a basin of water. The poor child was, however, first made half-unconscious, being anointed with the "oil of wisdom," no doubt an intoxicating compound, and after numerous ceremonies, carried into a recess called the Tabernacle, and ordered to look into the hand or a basin of water. After the assembly had prayed for some time, the "Dove," as they called the child, was asked what he saw. Ordinarily he beheld first an angel or a priest—probably the image of Cagliostro himself in his sacerdotal robes—but frequently also monkeys, the offspring of a skeptical imagination. Then followed more or less interesting revelations, some utterly absurd, others of real interest, and at times actual predictions of future events. Cagliostro himself, during his last trial before the Inquisition of Rome, while readily confessing a large number of impostures, stoutly maintained the genuineness of these communications and insisted that they were the effects of a special power granted by God. His assertion has some value, as the shrewd man knew very well how much more he was likely to gain by a prompt avowal than by such a denial; his wife, also, although his accomplice in former years, and now by no means disposed to spare her quasi-husband, always stated that this was a true mystery which she had never been able to fathom. If we add to these considerations the fact that numerous masters of lodges, even in Holland and England, obtained the same results, and that they cannot all have been impostors or deluded victims, there remains enough in these well-established phenomena to ascribe them to a mysterious, magic power. (Compendio della vita, etc. di G. Balsamo, Roma, 1791.) It is in fact quite evident that the unfortunate juggler possessed in a very rare degree a power akin to that practised by a Mesmer, a Home, and other men of that class, without having the sense to understand its true nature or the ambition to employ it for other than the lowest selfish purposes. Trials of magicians, who have conjured up the dead and compelled them to reveal the future, are still taking place every now and then; in the year 1850 not less than four men, together with their associates, were accused of this crime in enlightened Germany, and the proceedings in one case, which occurred in Munich, created no small sensation.
Black magic, therefore, must also be looked upon as by no means a mere illusion, much less as the work of evil spirits. The results it obtains at times are the work of man himself, and exist only within his own conscience. But if man can produce such marvelous effects, which lie apparently beyond the range of the material world, how much more must the Creator and Preserver of all things be able to call forth events which transcend—to our mind—the limits of the tangible world. Such occurrences, when they have a higher moral or religious purpose in view, we call Miracles, and they remain incomprehensible for all whose knowledge is confined to the physical world. Above the laws of nature there rules the Divine Will, which can do what Nature cannot do, and which we can only begin to understand when we bear in mind the fact that by the side of the visible order of the world or above it, there exist spiritual laws as well as spiritual beings. In a miracle, powers are rendered active which ordinarily remain inactive, but which exist none the less permanently in the world. Hence all great thinkers have readily admitted the existence of miracles: a Locke and a Leibnitz as well as, more recently, a Stahl and a Schopenhauer. Locke, in his "Discourse of Miracles," goes so far as to call them the very credentials of a messenger sent from God, and asserts that Moses and Christ have alike authenticated the truth and the divine character of their revelations by miracles. Even their possible continuance is believed in by those who hope that men will ever continue among us who "have tasted the good word of God and the powers of the world to come." (Hebrews vi. 5.)