M. de Gasparin, the husband of the well-known author of The Near and the Heavenly Horizons, was a table-turner, without being a spiritualist. His experiments were made in Switzerland, in 1853; he published a book on them, as we said; M. Figuier attacked it in Les Mystéres de la Science, after M. de Gasparin’s death, and the widow of the author replied by republishing part of the original work. M. de Gasparin, in the early Empire, was a Liberal, an anti-Radical, an opponent of negro slavery, a Christian, an energetic honest man, absolu et ardent, as he confesses.
His purpose was to demonstrate that tables turn, that the phenomenon is purely physical, that it cannot be explained by the mechanical action of the muscles, nor by that of ‘spirits’. His allies were his personal friends, and it is pretty clear that two ladies were the chief ‘agents’. The process was conducted thus: a ‘chain’ of eight or ten people surrounded a table, lightly resting their fingers, all in contact, on its surface. It revolved, and, by request, would raise one of its legs, and tap the floor. All this, of course, can be explained either by cheating, or by the unconscious pushes administered. If any one will place his hands on a light table, he will find that the mere come and go of pulse and breath have a tendency to agitate the object. It moves a little, accompanying it you unconsciously move it more. The experiment is curious because, on some days, the table will not budge, on others it instantly sets up a peculiar gliding movement, in which it almost seems to escape from the superimposed hands, while the most wakeful attention cannot detect any conscious action of the muscles. If you try the opposite experiment, namely conscious pushing of the most gradual kind, you find that the exertion is very distinctly sensible. The author has made the following simple experiment.
Two persons for whom the table would not move laid their hands on it firmly and flatly. Two others (for whom it danced) just touched the hands of the former pair. Any pressure or push from the upper hands would be felt, of course, by the under hands. No such pressure was felt, yet the table began to rotate. In another experiment with another subject, the pressure was felt (indeed the owner of the upper hands was conscious of pressing), yet the table did not move. These experiments are, physiologically, curious, but, of course, they demonstrate nothing. Muscles can move the table, muscles can apparently act without the consciousness of their owner, therefore the movement is caused, or may be irrefutably said to be caused, by unconscious muscular action.
M. de Gasparin, of course, was aware of all this; he therefore aimed at producing movement without contact. In his early experiments the table was first set agoing by contact; all hands were then lifted at a signal, to half an inch above the table, and still the table revolved. Of course it will not do this, if it is set agoing by conscious muscular action, as any one may prove by trying. As it was possible that some one might still be touching the table, and escaping in the crowd the notice of the observers outside the circle, two ladies tried alone. The observer, Mr. Thury, saw the daylight between their hands and the table, which revolved four or five times. To make assurance doubly sure, a thin coating of flour was scattered over the whole table, and still it moved, while the flour was unmarked. M. de Gasparin was therefore convinced that the phenomena of movement without mechanical agency were real. His experiments got rid of Mr. Faraday’s theory of unconscious pressure and pushing, because you cannot push with your muscles what you do not touch with any portion of your body, and De Gasparin had assured himself that there was no physical contact between his friends and this table.
M. de Gasparin now turned upon Dr. Carpenter, to whom an article in the Quarterly Review, dealing with the whole topic of abnormal occurrences, was attributed. Dr. Carpenter, at this time, had admitted the existence of the hypnotic state, and the amenability of the hypnotised person to the wildest suggestions. He had also begun to develop his doctrine of ‘unconscious cerebration,’ that is, the existence of mental processes beneath, or apart from our consciousness. [{312}] An ‘ideational change’ may take place in the cerebrum. The sensorium is ‘unreceptive,’ so the idea does not reach consciousness. Sometimes, however, the idea oozes out from the fingers, through muscular action, also unconscious. This moves the table to the appropriate tilts. These two ideas are capable, if we admit them, of explaining many singular psychological facts, but they certainly do not explain the movements of tables which nobody is touching. In face of M. de Gasparin’s evidence, which probably was not before him, Dr. Carpenter could only have denied the facts, or alleged that the witnesses, including observers outside the chaîne, or circle, were all self-hypnotised, all under the influence of self-suggestion, and all honestly asserting the occurrence of events which did not occur. His essay touched but lightly on this particular marvel. He remarked that ‘the turning of tables, and the supposed communications of spirits through their agency’ are due ‘to the mental state of the performers themselves’. Now M. de Gasparin, in his via media, repudiated ‘spirits’ energetically. Dr. Carpenter then explained witchcraft, and the vagaries of ‘camp-meetings’ by the ‘dominant idea’. But M. de Gasparin could reply that persons whose ‘dominant idea’ was incredulity attested many singular occurrences. At the end of his article, Dr. Carpenter decides that table-turners push unconsciously, as they assuredly do, but they cannot push when not in contact with the object. The doctor did not allege that table-turners are ‘biologised’ as he calls it, and under a glamour. But M. de Gasparin averred that no single example of trance, rigidity, loss of ordinary consciousness, or other morbid symptoms, had ever occurred in his experiments. There is thus, as it were, no common ground on which he and Dr. Carpenter can meet and fight. He dissected the doctor’s rather inconsequent argument with a good deal of acuteness and wit.
M. de Gasparin then exhibited some of the besetting sins of all who indulge in argument. He accepted all his own private phenomena, but none of those, such as ‘raps’ and so forth, for which other people were vouching. Things must occur as he had seen them, and not otherwise. What he had seen was a chaîne of people surrounding a table, all in contact with the table, and with each other. The table had moved, and had answered questions by knocking the floor with its foot. It had also moved, when the hands were held close to it, but not in contact with it. Nothing beyond that was orthodox, as nothing beyond hypnotism and unconscious cerebration was orthodox with Dr. Carpenter. Moreover M. de Gasparin had his own physical explanation of the phenomena. There is, in man’s constitution, a ‘fluid’ which can be concentrated by his will, and which then, given a table and a chaîne, will produce M. de Gasparin’s phenomena: but no more. He knows that ‘fluids’ are going out of fashion in science, and he is ready to call the ‘fluid’ the ‘force’ or ‘agency,’ or ‘condition of matter’ or what you please. ‘Substances, forces, vibrations, let it be what you choose, as long as it is something.’ The objection that the phenomena are ‘of no use’ was made, and is still very common, but, of course, is in no case scientifically valid. Electricity was ‘of no use’ once, and the most useless phenomenon is none the less worthy of examination.
M. de Gasparin now examines another class of objections. First, the phenomena were denied; next, they were said to be as old as history, and familiar to the Greeks. We elsewhere show that this is quite true, that the movement of objects without contact was as familiar to the Greeks as to the Peruvians, the Thibetans, the Eskimo, and in modern stories of haunted houses. But, as will presently appear, these wilder facts would by no means coalesce with the hypothesis of M. de Gasparin. To his mind, tables turn, but they turn by virtue of the will of a ‘circle,’ consciously exerted, through the means of some physical force, fluid, or what not, produced by the imposition of hands. Now these processes do not characterise the phenomena among Greeks, Thibetans, Eskimo, Peruvians, in haunted houses, or in presence of the late Mr. Home,—granting the facts as alleged. In these instances, nobody is ‘circling’ round a chair, a bed, or what not, yet the chair or bed moves, as in the story of Monsieur S. at St. Maur (1706), and in countless other examples. All this would not, as we shall see, be convenient for the theory of M. de Gasparin.
His line of argument is that the Greek and Latin texts are misunderstood, but that, if the Greeks did turn tables, that is no proof that tables do not turn, but rather the reverse. A favourite text is taken from Ammianus Marcellinus, lib. xxix. ch. i. M. de Gasparin does not appear to have read the passage carefully. About 371 A.D. one Hilarius was tortured on a charge of magical operations against the Emperor Valens. He confessed. A little table, made of Delphic laurel, was produced in court. ‘We made it,’ he said, ‘that confounded little table, under strange rites and imprecations, and we set it in movement, thus: it was placed in a room charged with perfumes, above a round plate fashioned of various metals. The edge of the plate was marked with the letters of the alphabet separated by certain spaces. A priest, linen clad, bowed himself over the table, balancing a ring tied to a thin thread. The ring, bounding from letter to letter, picks out letters forming hexameters, like those of Delphi.’ This is confusing. Probably the movements of the table, communicated to the thread, caused the bounds of the ring, otherwise there was no use in the table moving. At all events the ring touched THEO (which is not a word that could begin a hexameter) when they asked who was to succeed Valens. Some one called out ‘Theodore’ and they pursued the experiment no farther. A number of Theodores and Theophiles were put to death, but when Theodosius was joined with Gratian in the Empire, the believers held that the table had been well inspired. Here there was no chaîne, or circle, the table is not said to lever le pied legèrement, as the song advises, therefore M. de Gasparin rules the case out of court. The object, however, really was analogous to planchette, Ouija, and other modern modes of automatic divination. The experiment of Hilarius with the ‘confounded little table’ led to a massacre of Neoplatonists, martyrs of Psychical Research! In Hilarius’s confession we omit a set of ritual invocations; as unessential as the mystic rites used by savages in making curari.
The spiritus percutiens, ‘rapping spirit’ (?) conjured away by old Catholic formulæ at the benediction of churches, was brought forward by some of M. de Gasparin’s critics. As his tables did not rap, he had nothing to do with the spiritus percutiens, who proves, however, that the Church was acquainted with raps, and explained them by the spiritualistic hypothesis. [{317}]
A text in Tertullian’s Apologetic was also cited. Here tabulæ and capæ, ‘tables and she-goats,’ are said to divine. What have she-goats to do in the matter? De Morgan wished to read tabulæ et crepæ, which he construes ‘tables and raps,’ but he only finds crepæ in Festus, who says, that goats are called crepæ, quod cruribus crepent, ‘because they rattle with their legs’. De Morgan’s guess is ingenious, but lacks confirmation. We are not, so far, aware of communication with spirits by raps before 856 A.D.