It is particularly easy, in a question like spiritualism, to allow fallacy to creep in. There is a basis of curious phenomena which certainly exist and are recognized by scientists as indubitable facts. But the investigator must be careful, in every instance, to assure himself that he is in the presence of the genuine phenomenon, and not of an imitation of it, and, as a matter of fact, this is sometimes impossible to do. Thus there is no doubt that the glass will move without the person whose fingers are resting on it exercising any force consciously. In the early days of honest experiment, we had satisfied ourselves on this point. It was within the experience of all of us. Many of us (I myself was one) could move it alone, without conscious effort; and before long we came to expect the movement to take place, and to regard it as the natural consequence of placing our hands in a certain position. When I began to move the glass consciously there was no outward indication that any change had taken place, and nobody could prove I was pushing it rather than “following” it. Nevertheless, the investigators were no longer in the presence of the genuine phenomenon, though they thought they were.

From the knowledge that the movement of the glass could be caused by an unconscious exercise of force, to the belief that the rational movement of the glass was caused in the same unconscious way, was but a little step. It is a step which many eminent men have taken after years of patient investigation. My friends could hardly have been blamed had they taken it at once. The fact that they saw fit to test the “mediums” and failed to discover the fraud does not prove they were fools. It does show that at least they were moderately careful, and it should be noted that the reasoning by which they led themselves astray was well based on facts. The trouble was it did not take into consideration all the facts that were relevant. They argued: “We ourselves moved the board round. The only means by which we could tell the new position of the letters was by looking. Bones was blindfolded. He could not see. Therefore he could not know the new position of the board.”

The relevant fact omitted was that man possesses the sense of touch as well as of vision. It was a failure of observation as well as of logic. They should have watched my left thumb.

Then, as corroboration, they argued: “It is notorious Bones’s memory failed him at the Pantomime, and on other similar occasions. Therefore Bones has a bad memory. No man with a bad memory could carry in his head the position of twenty-six letters. Therefore Bones did not do so”—which neglects the fact that stage-memory is a thing quite apart and by itself.

Had anyone observed my thumb, groping cautiously for the secret marks, I should have failed. Nobody observed it. Therefore I succeeded. It was only a very small instance of incomplete observation, but it made all the difference.

There is a further point to remember. While these tests were proceeding, the Spook was not idle. He did not take them lying down. The best defence is always attack. It would never do to allow the investigators to assume the complete control of the operations, to concentrate on any single point, or to examine their own reasoning in all its nakedness. Therefore, while they were trying to discover the origin of the rational movement of the glass, the Spook counter-attacked continually by framing his replies to their questions in such a way as to divert the interest of the audience to the subject matter of the answers and away from the manner in which they were obtained. The Spook gave, for instance, appreciations of the military situation on various fronts which formed splendid food for discussion and eventually led to the issue at frequent intervals of a Spook Communique. There was one famous night which did much to establish the authenticity of our “control.” In answer to a query about the progress of the war, the Spook told us that America was ready to lend a hand.

“What’s America going to do?” Alec Matthews asked.

“Troops—ready now—waiting,” came the answer.

“Where are they waiting, and how many?”

“At sea—100,000.”