Slade was a very bad selection by Sir A. C. Doyle. No prominent medium was ever so frequently exposed as he. In addition to the exposures I have mentioned, Dr. Hyslop, Mrs. Sidgwick, and other leading Spiritualists riddled his pretensions to supernormal power. In the end he took to drink and died in an asylum. Yet Sir A. C. Doyle assures his followers, in his Vital Message, that he never builds on a discredited medium.
Let us turn now to Stainton Moses, the snow-white medium. Moses was a neuropathic clergyman who in 1872 left the Church and became a teacher. About the same time he discovered mediumistic powers. He died ultimately of Bright's disease, brought on by drink. His audience, as I said before, consisted only of a few intimate friends who never doubted his saintliness or thought for a moment of fraud. He worked always in the dark, or in a very bad light; and his doings are mainly described by his trustful friend and host, Mrs. Speer. This would dispense any serious student from troubling about his phenomena; but let us see if they throw any light on his character. Mr. Carrington says that the things reported are unbelievable, yet that we cannot think of fraud in connection with Moses. Podmore also tries hard not to accuse him of conscious fraud, and hints that he was irresponsible. The reader may choose to think otherwise.
The spirits performed every variety of phenomena through Stainton Moses. Like Home, and only a few of the quite holiest mediums, he was occasionally lifted off the ground; or, which is, of course, the same thing, he said that he was. Raps were common when he was about. Automatic writing of the most elevating (and most inaccurate) description flowed from his pencil. Lights floated about the room; and once or twice he dropped and broke a bottle of phosphorus in the dark. Musical sounds were repeatedly heard, as in the case of the Rev. Dr. Monck, who had a little musical box in his trousers. The sitters were sprayed with scent. The objects on the dressing-table in his room were arranged by invisible hands in the form of a cross. Wonderful messages about recently deceased persons were sent through him; and the details could later be found in the papers. In fine, he was a remarkably good medium for "apports"—that is to say, the bringing into the circle by the spirits of flowers and other objects. Statuettes, jewels, books, and all kinds of things (provided they were in the house and could be secreted about the person) were "apported."
The evidence for these things is particularly poor, but I am a liberal man. I do not doubt them. Each one of them, separately, was done by other mediums. It is the rich variety that characterizes Moses. Let him sleep in peace. The credulity and admiration of his friends seem to have made him lose the last particle of sense of honour in these matters. These things are common elementary conjuring from beginning to end.
Apports are a familiar ghostly accomplishment, and the way they are done is familiar. Mme. Blavatsky was wonderful at apports. Who would ever dream of proposing to search Mme. Blavatsky? And who would now be so simple as to think of spirits when the medium was not searched? The person of Mme. Blavatsky was as sacred from such search as the person of the Rev. Stainton Moses or of the charming and guileless Florrie Cook. Indeed, it is only in recent times that a real search of the medium has been demanded, and the accounts of weird and wonderful objects "apported" under other conditions merit only a smile. Mrs. Guppy, secured from search by her virtue and the esteem of Dr. Russel Wallace, went so far as to apport live eels. Eusapia Palladino one day "apported" a branch of azaleas in Flammarion's house; and he afterwards found an azalea plant, which it exactly fitted, in her bedroom. Another day her spirits showered marguerites on the table; and the marguerites were missed from a pot in the corridor. Anna Rothe, the Princess Karadja's pet medium, was secretly watched, and was caught bringing bouquets from her petticoats and oranges out of her ample bosom; and the spirits did not save her from a year in gaol. She had a whole flower-shop under her skirts when she was seized.
But we will not run over the whole silly chronicle of "apports." Two recent instances will suffice. One is the Turin lady, Linda Gazerra, of whom I have spoken on an earlier page. She was too virtuous to strip, and let down her hair, even in the presence of a lady. So Dr. Imoda, a scientific man who consented to accept her on these terms, was fooled for three years (1908-11). She had live birds caged in the large mass of her hair (natural and artificial), and all sorts of things in her lingerie.
About the same time, an Australian medium, Bailey, made a sensational name throughout the Spiritualist world by his "apports." The spirits brought silks from the Indies (until the brutal customs official claimed the tariff), live birds, and all sorts of things. He was taken so seriously in the Spiritualist world that Professor Reichel, a rich French inquirer, brought him to France for investigation. Sure enough, although he was searched, the spirits brought into the room two little birds "from India." But his long hesitations and evasions had aroused suspicion, and on inquiry it was proved that he had bought the birds, which were quite French, at a local shop in Grenoble. How had he smuggled them into the room? I give the answer (as it is given by Count Rochas, his host) with reluctance, but it is absolutely necessary to know these things if you want to understand some of the more difficult mediumistic performances. The birds were concealed in the unpleasant end of his alimentary canal. Professor Reichel gave him his return fare and urged him to go quickly; and the Australian Spiritualists received him with open arms, and listened sympathetically to his stories of French brutality.
Of "apports," therefore, we say the same as of "materializations." The medium shall be stripped naked, have all his or her body-openings muzzled, be sewn in prepared garments, and placed in a prepared and carefully searched room. When Spiritualists announce the appearance of an eel or a pigeon or a bouquet, or even a copy of Light, under those conditions, we will begin to consider the question of apports.
Luminous phenomena "are easily simulated," says Dr. Maxwell. Most people will agree to this candid verdict of so experienced and so sympathetic an investigator. Tons of phosphorus have been used in the service of religion since 1848. It has taken the place of incense. The saintly Moses twice had a nasty mess with his bottle of phosphorus. Herne was one night tracing a pious message in luminous characters (with a damp match) when there was a crackle and flash; the match had "struck." The movement abounds in incidents which are, in a double sense, "luminous."
Certain sulphides may be used instead of phosphorus, and in modern times electricity is an excellent means of producing lights at a distance. Chemicals of the pyrotechnic sort are also useful. One must remember that behind the thousands of mediums, whose fertile brains are constantly elaborating new methods of evading control, are manufacturers and scientific experts who supply them with chemicals and apparatus. One often hears Spiritualists laugh at this suggestion as a wild theory of their opponents. Any impartial person will acknowledge that it is more probable than improbable. But positive proof has been given over and over again.