Only those have an invincible conviction (writes Count de Gasparin) who have participated in séance studies frequently and directly, who have felt under their very fingers the production of those peculiar movements which the action of our muscles cannot imitate. They know the limitations of their powers and where to stop. For they have seen the table refuse to rotate at all, in spite of the impatience of the investigators, and in spite of their clamorous appeals. Then again, they have been present when it started to move so gently, so softly and spontaneously started, it can be said, under fingers which hardly touched it. They have at times seen the legs of the table (riveted by some enchantment to the floor) refuse to budge on any terms, in spite of the incitement and coaxing of those who composed the chain. On other occasions they have seen the same table-legs perform levitations that were so free and energetic that they anticipated the hands, got the start of the orders, and executed the thoughts almost before they were conceived, and with an energy well-nigh terrifying. They have heard with their own ears stunning raps and gentle raps, the one threatening to break the table, the others of such incredible fineness and delicacy that one could scarcely catch the sounds, and none of us could in any degree imitate them. They have remarked that the force of the levitations is not diminished when the sitters are removed from the side of the table that is to form the fulcrum. They have themselves commanded the table to lift that one of its legs over which rest the only hands that compose that portion of the chain still remaining, and the leg has risen as often and as high as they wished. They have observed the table in its dances when it beats the measure with one foot or with two; when it reproduces exactly the rhythm of the music that has just been sung; when, yielding in the most comic way to the invitation to dance the minuet, it takes on grandmotherly airs, sedately makes a half turn, curtsies, and then comes forward turning the other side! The manner in which the events took place told the experimenters more than the events themselves. They were in contact with a reality which soon made itself understood.
The persevering experiments we had made before the 20th of September had already given us proof of two principal things,—the levitation of a weight that the muscular action of the operators was powerless to move, and the reproduction of numbers by mind reading.
I shall now give the formal declarations or reports, by Count de Gasparin, or at least the essential parts of them. I shall present them here as the author has done, séance after séance. The reader will judge. He is urged to read the reports with the greatest attention. They are scientific documents of the highest value, and quite as important as the preceding ones.
Séance of September 20
Some one proposed the experiment which consists in causing a table to rotate and give raps while it has on it a man weighing say a hundred and ninety pounds. We accordingly placed such a man on the table, and the twelve experimenters, in chain, applied their fingers to it.
The success was complete: the table turned, and rapped several strokes. Then it rose up entirely off the floor in such a way as to upset the person who was upon it. Let me be permitted here, in passing, to make a general remark. We had already had numerous meetings. Our experimenters, among whom were several young ladies of delicate physique, had worked with very unusual perseverance and energy. Their bodily fatigue at the end of each sitting was naturally very great. It seems as if we should therefore have expected some nervous collapses more or less grave, to show themselves among us. If explanations based upon involuntary acts performed in a state of extraordinary excitement had the least foundation in fact, we should have had trances, almost possessions, and, at any rate, nervous attacks. Now, in spite of the exciting and noisy character of our meetings, it did not happen, in five months time, that any one of us experienced a single moment of indisposition or sickness of any kind. We learned something more: when a person is in a state of nervous tension, he or she becomes positively unfit to act upon the table. It must be handled cheerfully, lightly, and deftly, with confidence and authority, but without passion. This is so true that the moment I took too much interest in things I ceased to obtain obedience. If, on account of public discussions in which I had been engaged, I chanced to desire success too ardently and to grow impatient over delay, I had no longer any control over the table; it remain inert.
Séance of September 24
We began pretty poorly, and were almost inclined to think that the net result of the day's experiments would be limited to the two following observations, which have their value, to tell the truth, and which our experience has always confirmed: First, there are days when nothing can be done, nothing prospers, although the sitters are as numerous, as strong, and as excited as ever,—which proves that the movements of the table are not obtained by fraud or by the involuntary pressure of the muscles. Second, there are persons (those among others who are sickly or fatigued) whose presence in the chain is not only of no use, but even detrimental. Destitute themselves of the fluidic force, they seem, besides, to hinder its circulation and transmission. Their good will, their faith in the table are of no avail; as long as they are there the rotations are feeble, the levitations spiritless, the drafts drawn on the table are not honored; that one of its feet facing them is especially struck with paralysis. Beg them to retire, and immediately the vitality appears again and everything succeeds as if by magic. Indeed, it was only after we had taken this course that we finally obtained the free and energetic movements to which we had been accustomed. We had become quite discouraged; but when the purging of which I have just spoken took place, lo, what a change! Nothing seems difficult to us. Even those who (like myself) ordinarily have only mediocre success, now think of numbers and make the table rap them out with complete success, or with the slight imperfection (that frequently occurs) of a tap too many, owing to the delay in giving the mental order to stop the taps.
Seeing that everything was going according to our wish, and having decided to try the impossible, we next undertake an experiment which marks our entrance into a wholly new phase of the study and places our former experimental demonstrations under the guarantee of a positively irrefutable demonstration. We are going to leave probability behind and dwell with evidence. We are going to make the table move without touching it. And this is how we succeeded that first time:
At the moment when the table was whirling with a powerful and irresistible rotation, at a given signal we all lifted our fingers. Then keeping our hands united by means of the little fingers, and continuing to form the chain at a height of say an eighth or a quarter of an inch above the table, we continued our circular movement. To our great surprise the table did the same; it made in this way three or four turns! We could scarcely believe our good fortune; the by-standers (witnesses) could not keep from clapping their hands. And the way in which the rotation took place was as remarkable as the rotation itself. Once or twice the table stopped following us because the little accidents and interruptions of our march had withdrawn our fingers from their regular distance from the top of the table. Once or twice the table had come to life again—if I may so express myself—when the turning chain had again got into the right relation with it. We all had the feeling that each hand had carried along in its course that portion of the table immediately beneath it.