Spirit Slate Writing and Kindred Phenomena

by Chung Ling Soo

Another trick is to have an answer appear written upon the inside of the body of the envelope in which is enclosed the question. The envelope is closed and sealed with sealing wax. This is accomplished without disturbing the seal. In the ordinary manufacture of an envelope, three of the flaps are stuck together with adhesive gum of far less strength than the fourth flap, which is to be moistened and closed by the user. It is generally an easy matter to insert the blade of a penknife behind the bottom flap, that is, between it and one of the end flaps, and separate them a trifle. Then, if you insert into this a wooden skewer, or hard, round-pointed stick, like a pencil, in fact, a lead pencil will do, but look out it does not leave marks behind; and by pushing this along, and giving it a rolling motion, you will separate the flaps up as far as the seal, and, if done carefully, without tearing or mutilating the envelope. Now, on a slip of paper write the answer or suitable message, but in reverse or backward writing, as the words would appear in a looking-glass, with a carbon or copying pencil. Pass this slip through the opening in the envelope, shake it into the desired position, now rub the envelope over this spot until you think the envelope has taken the impression. Then remove the slip of paper by the same way it came in, moisten and gum the opening, and the trick is done. In rubbing the envelope, it is a good plan to place a piece of paper over it to keep the envelope clean of marks, which would be liable to appear from damp or moist fingers during the rubbing.

The following is from the experiments of a German scientist. He discovered, by the use of an embryoscope, or egg-glass, that the shells of eggs were of very unequal thickness.

It occurred to him to make experiments in order to ascertain how many leaves of ordinary letter or official paper must be laid above and below a written leaf, in order to make it illegible to a highly sensitive eye in the direct sunlight. He found that after he had rested his eye in a dark room for ten or fifteen minutes, he could read a piece of writing over the mirror of the embryoscope that had been covered with eight layers of paper. He called in other observers to confirm this. The letters, however, that could be thus deciphered were written in dark ink on one side of the paper only. If four written sides were folded together, and especially if there had been crossing, it was hard to make out the drift of the writing; and there are some kinds of writing which, when folded thrice or twice, admit too little light for the purpose of decipherment.

In this way, possibly, many of the performances of “clairvoyants” may be explained. By means of the egg-glass it is, as a rule, easier to make out the contents of a letter or telegram without the slightest tampering with the envelope than it is to detect the movements of the embryo in the egg.

Suppose the writer of a billet, the contents of which are known only to himself, lets it out of his hands and loses sight of it for five minutes, it may be carried either in the direct sunlight, or into electric or magnesium light, and be read by the aid of the egg-glass. The placing of a piece of cartridge paper in the envelope, or the coloring of it black, is a means of defense at hand. In their present form, telegrams cannot be protected from perusal, unless delivered at once into the hands of the addressees.

A few tests employed by mind readers and clairvoyants, so called from their presumed ability to read other people’s minds, will, I think, prove interesting. Let us suppose the performer, as a means of proving his ability to cause his subject to read his mind from a distance, or by mental telegraphy, execute the following feat. His subject, let us say his wife, is at home. The professor is in a public place, a store, or banking house, etc. He requests some one to write a question; he hands this person a fountain pen and a pad of paper. After the person has done so, he is requested to fold the communication up, place it in an envelope and seal it, and then put it in his pocket. He is now asked to write a letter or note to the professor’s assistant, asking her to inform him what it was that he had asked on the paper inclosed in the envelope in his pocket. This note, and the pen also, for fear the lady has no writing utensils, is carried by the gentleman himself to the lady. She reads the request, and, turning the paper over, she writes the answer correctly on the other side. Sometimes, instead of the gentleman himself going with the note, a messenger boy is sent with it and the answer brought back by him. In either case the paper and pen are sent along. The pen is an ordinary fountain pen, and it is by means of it that the lady receives the desired information of what has been written. First the professor has to know what has been written. He simply says to the gentleman: “You must allow me to read the question; for, if I do not see it, how can my assistant see it, for it is through me she is enabled to know? What I see I convey to her by mental telegraphy, and thus convey the communication.” After the professor sees the communication he goes to a desk and gets an envelope, or takes one out of his pocket, and gives it to the gentleman to place his question in and seal it. While this is being done he stealthily writes on a piece of fine, thin paper an exact copy of the question. This he makes into a little pellet and places it in the little cap or end that is made to cover the point of the pen for protection. Of course it is now easy to see the method by which the question is made known to the assistant. She has simply to remove the pellet of paper, unfold it and read it. Sometimes a pad of paper is used that has cunningly concealed between two of its leaves, near the top, a piece of carbon duplicating paper. These two sheets are pasted around the edges so as to appear as one, and when the person writes a question it is duplicated on the sheet of paper following the one wherein is concealed the carbon paper. The professor has simply to tear out this sheet and inclose it in the cap of the fountain pen. The name of Foster is almost invariably coupled with any test wherein there is reading of sealed letters, pellets, etc., just the same as Slade’s is connected with the slate writing tests.

Foster was an inveterate smoker, anywhere and everywhere, especially at his séance, and it was all for a purpose. The visitor who desired a sitting with Foster was asked to write a few questions on small pieces of paper, fold them up separately, and press them into small balls or pellets. Foster would pick one of these up and hold it to his head, as if to try and penetrate it. Apparently failing to do so, he would place it back on the table. This he would repeat with others. Finally, he hands one of them to the visitor, after holding it against his forehead, requesting him to hold it himself. Foster then took a pencil and paper, and scribbled something on it, and then bared one of his arms, and showed it devoid of any preparation. He then rubbed this arm with his hand, and, on removing it, a name was seen. On reading what Foster scribbled on the paper, the visitor finds an answer to one of his questions, and the name in blood red on Foster’s arm is found to be the name of a person addressed by the visitor in the note. Foster had a pellet of paper of his own concealed between his finger tips, and, at some convenient moment, instead of placing back on the table one of the pellets he has just taken up, he substitutes one of his own, keeping the bona fide one in his hand, which he lowers into his lap and unfolds. Holding it in the palm of his hand, he strikes a match and lights his cigar, and while doing so he is deliberately reading the note, which he afterward crumples into a ball and conceals in his hand. He now takes up another pellet and tries to see through it by holding it to his forehead. He, however, fails, and gives it to the visitor to hold, really exchanging it for the one he has just read. He now has his own and the visitor has his. He now allows his hands to lie carelessly in his lap, and, while conversing with the visitor, he pushes one of his coat sleeves up a short distance, and, with a sharp-pointed stick, writes the desired name on his arm, pressing down hard. In a second or two he writes the answer to the visitor’s question, minus the name he has just placed on his arm. He now shows his arm bare, and rubs the spot where he has written, with his fingers slightly moistened, whereupon the name appears in bright pink writing. If it is desired to make it disappear, hold the hand above the head a few seconds. To make it appear again, rub once more with the fingers.

Here is another trick which apparently calls for mind reading. The performer’s assistant is sent out of the room. Now, a sum of figures in addition is placed on the slate by a spectator. When he has concluded, the performer takes the chalk and draws a line under the numbers, turns the slate downward on a table, so nothing can be seen, places chalk on the slate, and retires into a corner of the room. His assistant is now called into the room, steps up to the table and seizes the chalk and marks down the correct answer to the sum of figures which is on the other side. Like all the tricks that appear the most incomprehensible, this is one of the most simple. The performer stands watching the person as he places down the numbers on the slate, he mentally adds them, and, with his hands behind his back or under his coat-tails, with a lead pencil in one hand, he writes on a piece of chalk held in the other hand the correct answer. It is needless to say that it is this piece of chalk he places on the slate, and not the one used. The chalk is scraped or filed flat a trifle lengthwise. This is to keep it from rolling on the slate, thus avoiding accidental exposure of the writing on it, and also give it a flat surface to write on.

Here is an effect I produced as a stage illusion some years ago, somewhat resembling a spiritualistic effect. Hanging up against the scene, at the rear of the stage, was a large blackboard. On this blackboard writing appeared gradually, done in chalk, as though some unseen hand were actually at work. The blackboard was really nothing but fine wire slate-colored netting. There was a large hole cut in the scene immediately behind the blackboard. This hole was completely boxed in by curtains or woodwork, so as to make it as dark as night. A man was in this space, and he was dressed in a complete suit of black; also a black mask and gloves. He was provided with a pot of white paint, composed of whiting, water and glue, and a brush. Now, the man can see through this netting, but the spectators are unable to see him behind this screen of netting. With the brush and paint he traces on the wire netting whatever is desired. The paint comes through the meshes of the netting, and, adhering to it, makes a very good imitation of a chalk mark. It should be remembered the person doing the writing does so backward; so it will be in correct position when seen by the audience.