Black Magic, the Kishuph of the Hebrews, avows openly its purpose of forming a league with evil spirits in order to attain selfish ends, which are invariably fatal to others. And yet it is exactly here that we meet with great numbers of well-authenticated cases of success, which preclude all doubt and force us to admit the occasional efficiency of such sinful alliances. The art flourishes naturally best among the lowest races of mankind, where gross ignorance is allied with blind faith, and the absence of inspiration leaves the mind in natural darkness. We cannot help being struck here also with the fact that the means employed for such purposes have been the same in almost all ages. Readers of classic writers are familiar with the drum of Cybele—the Laplanders have from time immemorial had the same drum, on which heaven, hell, and earth are painted in bright colors, and reproduce in pictorial writing the letters of the modern spiritualist. A ring is placed upon the tightly stretched skin, which slight blows with a hammer cause to vibrate, and according to the apparently erratic motions of the ring over the varied figures of gods, men, and beasts, the future is revealed. The consulting savage lies on his knees, and as the pendulum between our fingers and the pencil of Planchette in our hand write apparently at haphazard, but in reality under the pressure of our muscles acting through the unconscious influence of our will, so here also the beats of the hammer only seem to be fortuitous, but, in reality, are guided by the ecstatic owner. For already Olaf Magnus ("Hist. Goth." L. 3, ch. 26) tells us that the incessant beating of the drum, and the wild, exulting singing of the magician for hours before the actual ceremony begins, cause him to fall into a state of exaltation, without which he would be unable to see the future. That the drum is a mere accident in the ceremony was strikingly proved by a Laplander, who delivered up his instrument of witchcraft to the pious missionary (Tornaeus) by whom he had been converted, and who soon came to complain that even without his drum he could not help seeing hidden things—an assertion which he proved by reciting to the amazed minister all the minute details of his recent journey. Who can help, while reading of these savage magicians, recalling the familiar ring and drumstick in the left hand of the Roman Isis—statues with a drum above the head, or the rarely missing ring and hammer in the hands of the Egyptian Isis? It need hardly be added that the Indians of our continent have practised the art with more or less success from the day of discovery to our own times. Already Wafer in his "Descr. of the Isthmus of Darien" (1699) describes how Indian sorcerers, after careful preparation, were able to inform him of a number of future events, every one of which came to pass in the succeeding days. The prince of Neu-Wied again met a famous medicine-man among the Crea Indians, whose prophecies were readily accepted by the whites even, and of whose power he witnessed unmistakable evidence. Bonduel, a well-known and generally perfectly trustworthy writer, affirms, from personal knowledge, that among the Menomonees the medicine-men not only practise magic, but are able to produce most astounding results. After beating their drum, Bonduel used to hear a heavy fall and a faint, inarticulate voice, whereupon the tent of the charmer though fifteen feet high, rose in the air and inclined first on one and then on the other side. This was the time of the interview between the medicine-man and the evil spirit. Small doll-like figures of men also were used, barely two inches long, and tied to medicine-bags. They served mainly to inflame women with loving ardor, and when efficient could drive the poor creatures to pursue their beloved for days and nights through the wild forests. Other missionaries also affirm that these medicine-men must have been able to read the signs and perhaps to feel in advance the effects of the weather with amazing accuracy, since they frequently engaged to procure storms for special purposes, and never failed. It is interesting to notice that according to the unanimous testimony of all writers on Indian affairs, these medicine-men almost invariably find a violent and wretched death.
It is not without interest to recall that the prevailing forms of the magic of our day, as far as they consist of table-moving, spirit-rapping, and the like, have their origin among the natives of our continent. The earliest notice of these strange performances appeared in the great journal of Augsburg, in Germany (Allgemeine Zeitung), where Andree mentioned their occurrence among Western Indians. Sargent gave us next a more detailed description of the manner in which many a wigwam or log-cabin in Iowa became the scene of startling revelations by means of a clumsy table which hopped merrily about, or a half-drunk, red-skinned medium, from whose lips fell uncouth words. (Spicer, "Lights and Sounds," p. 190.) It was only in 1847 that the famous Fox family brought these phenomena within the pale of civilization: having rented a house in Hydeville, N. Y., already ill-reputed on account of mysterious noises, they reduced these knockings to a kind of system, and, by means of an alphabet, obtained the important information that they were the work of a "spirit," and that his name was Charles Ray. Margaret Fox transplanted the rappings to Rochester; Catherine, only twelve years old, to Auburn, and from these two central places the new Magic spread rapidly throughout the Union. Opposition and persecutions served, as they are apt to do, only to increase the interest of the public. A Mrs. Norman Culver proved, it is true, that rappings could easily be produced by certain muscular movements of the knee and the ankle, and a committee of investigation, of which Fenimore Cooper was a member, obtained ample evidence of such a method being used; but the faith of the believers was not shaken. The moving of tables, especially, furnished to their minds new evidence of the actual presence of spirits, and soon circles were established in nearly all the Northern and Western States, formed by persons of education without regard to confession, who called themselves Spiritualists or Spiritists, and their most favored associates Media. A number of men, whose intelligence and candor were alike unimpeachable, became members of the new sect, among them a judge, a governor of a State, and a professor of chemistry. They organized societies and circles, they published journals and several works of interest and value, and produced results which more and more strengthened their convictions.
The new art met, naturally, with much opposition, especially among the ministers and members of the different churches. Some of the opponents laughed at the whole as a clever jugglery, which deserved its great success on account of the "smartness" of the performers; others denounced it as a heresy and a crime; the former, of course, saw in it nothing but the hand of man, while the latter admitted the agency of spirits, but of spirits from below and not from above. An amusing feature connected with public opinion on this subject was, that when trade was prosperous and money abundant, spiritualism also flourished and found numerous adherents, but when business was slow, or a crisis took place, all minds turned away from the favorite pastime, and instinctively joined once more with the pious believers in the denunciation of the new magic. Thus a kind of antagonism has gradually arisen between orthodox Christians and enthusiastic spiritualists; the controversy is carried on with great energy on both sides, and, alas! to the eye of the general observer, magic is gaining ground every day, at least its adherents increase steadily in numbers, and even in social weight. (Tuttle, "Arena of Nature.") Not long ago the National Convention of Spiritualists, at their great meeting at Rochester, N.Y. (August, 1868), laid down nineteen fundamental principles of their new creed; their doctrines are based upon the fact that we are constantly surrounded by an invisible host of spirits, who desire to help us in returning once more to the father of all things, the Great Spirit.
Modern magic met with the same opposition in Europe. The French Academy, claiming, as usually, to be supreme authority in all matters of science, declined, nevertheless, to decide the question. Arago, who read the official report before the august body, closed with the words: "I do not believe a word of it!" but his colleagues remembered, perhaps, that their predecessors had once or twice before committed themselves grievously. Had not the same Academy pronounced against the use of quinine and vaccination, against lightning-rods and steam-engines? Had not Réaumur suppressed Peyssonel's "Essay on Corals," because he thought it was madness to maintain their animal nature; had not his learned brethren decreed, in 1802, that there were no meteors, although a short time later two thousand fell in one department alone; and had they not, more recently still, received the news of ether being useful as an anæsthetic with scorn and unanimous condemnation? Perhaps they recalled Dr. Hare's assertion that our own Society for the Advancement of Useful Knowledge had, in 1855, refused to hear a report on Spiritualism, preferring to discuss the important question: "Why do roosters always crow between midnight and one o'clock?" At all events they heard the report and remained silent. In the same manner Alexander von Humboldt refused to examine the question. This indifference did not, however, check the growth of Spiritualism in France, but its followers divided into two parties: spiritualists, under Rivail, who called himself Allan Cardec, and spiritists, under Piérard. The former died in 1869, after having seen his Livre des Esprits reappear in fifteen editions; to seal his mission, he sent, immediately after his death, his spirit to inform his eager pupils, who crowded around the dead body of their leader, of his first impressions in the spirit world. If the style is the man (le style c'est l'homme), no one could doubt that it was his spirit who spoke.
Perhaps the most estimable high-priest of this branch of modern magic is a well known professor of Geneva, Roessinger, a physician of great renown and much beloved by all who know him. He is, however, a rock of offense to American spiritualists, because he has ever remained firmly attached to his religious faith, and admits no spiritual revelations as genuine which do not entirely harmonize with the doctrines of Christ and the statements of the Bible. Unfortunately this leads him to believe that his favorite medium, a young lady enjoying the mystic name of Libna, speaks under the direct inspiration of God himself! In England the new magic has not only numerous but also influential adherents, like Lord Lytton and the Darwinian Wallace; papers like the Star and journals like the Cornhill Magazine, support it with ability, and names like Home in former years and Newton in our day, who not only reveal secrets but actually heal the sick, have given a new prestige to the young science. The works of Howitt and Dr. Ashburner, of Mrs. Morgan and Mrs. Crossland have treated the subject under various aspects, and in the year 1871, Crookes, a well-known chemist, investigated the phenomena of Home's revelations by means of an apparatus specially devised for the purpose. The result was the conviction that if not spiritual, they were at least not produced by any power now known to science.—Quart. Journ. of Science, July, 1871.
In Germany the new magic has been far less popular than elsewhere, but, in return, it has been there most thoroughly investigated. Men of great eminence in science and in philosophy have published extensive works on the subject, which are, however, more remarkable for zeal and industry than for acute judgment. Gerster in Regensburg claimed to have invented the Psychography, but Szapary in Paris and Cohnfeld in Berlin discovered at the same time the curious instrument known to us as Planchette. The most practical measure taken in Germany for the purpose of ascertaining the truth was probably the formation of a society for spirit studies, which met for the first time in Dresden in 1869, and purposes to obtain an insight into those laws of nature which are reported to make it possible to hold direct and constant intercourse with the world of spirits. Here, as in the whole tendency of this branch of magic, we see the workings not merely of idle curiosity but of that ardent longing after a knowledge of the future and a certainty of personal eternity, which dwells in the hearts of all men.
The phenomena of modern magic were first imperfect rappings against the wall, the legs of a table or a chair, accompanied by the motion of tables; then followed spirit-writing by the aid of a psychograph or a simple pencil, and finally came direct "spirit-writings," drawings by the media, together with musical and poetical inspirations, the whole reaching a climax in spirit-photographs. The ringing of bells, the dancing of detached hands in the air, the raising up of the entire body of a man, and musical performances without human aid were only accomplished in a few cases by specially favored individuals. Two facts alone are fully established in connection with all these phenomena: one, that some of the latter at least are not produced by the ordinary forces of nature; and the other, that the performers are generally, and the medium always, in a more or less complete state of trance. In this condition they forget themselves, give their mind up entirely into the hands of others—the media—and candidly believe they see and hear what they are told by the latter is taking place in their presence. Hence also the well-established fact that the spirits have never yet revealed a single secret, nor ever made known to us anything really new. Their style is invariably the same as that in which ecstatic and somnambulistic persons are apt to speak. A famous German spiritualist, Hornung, whose faith was well known, once laid his hands upon his planchette together with his wife, and then asked if there really was a world of spirits? To the utter astonishment of all present, the psychograph replied No! and when questioned again and again, became troublesome. The fact was simply that the would-be magician's wife did not believe in spirits, and as hers was the stronger will, the answer came from her mind and not from her husband's. On the other hand, it cannot be denied that media—most frequently delicate women of high nervous sensibility, and almost always leading lives of constant and wearying excitement—become on such occasions wrought up to a degree which resembles somnambulism and may really enable them, occasionally, in a state of clairvoyance, to see what is hidden to others. It is they who are "vitalized," as they call it, and not the knocking table, or the writing planchette, and hence arises the necessity of a medium for all such communications. That there are no spirits at work in these phenomena requires hardly to be stated; even the most ardent and enthusiastic adherents of the new magic cannot deny, that no original revelation concerning the world of spirits has yet been made, but that all that is told is but an echo of the more or less familiar views of men. It is far more interesting to notice, with Coleman, the electric and hygroscopic condition of the atmosphere, which has evidently much to do with such exhibitions. The visions of hands, arms, and heads, which move about in the air and may occasionally even be felt, are either mere hallucinations or real objective appearances, due to a peculiar condition of the air, and favorably interpreted by the predisposed mind. Hence, also, our own continent is, for its superior dryness of atmosphere, much more favorable to the development of such phenomena than that of Europe.
Spiritualists in the Old as in the New World are hopeful that the new magic will produce a new universal religion, and a better social order. In this direction, however, no substantial success has yet been obtained. Outsiders had expected that at least an intercourse with departed spirits might be secured, and thus the immortality of man might be practically demonstrated. But this also has not yet been done. What then can we learn from modern magic? Only this: that there are evidently forces in nature with whose character and precise intent we are not yet acquainted, and which yet deserve to be studied and carefully analyzed. Modern magic exhibits certain phenomena in man which are not subject to the known laws of nature, and thus proves that man possesses certain powers which he fails or does not know how to exert in ordinary life. Where these powers appear in consequence of special preparation or an exceptional condition of mind, they are comparatively worthless, because they are in such cases merely the result of physical or mental disease, and we can hope to profit only by powers employed by sound men. But where these powers become manifest by spontaneous action, apparently as the result of special endowment, they deserve careful study, and all the respect due to a new and unknown branch of knowledge.
Nor must it be overlooked, that, although modern magic as a science is new, most of the phenomena upon which it is based, were well known to the oldest nations. The Chinese, who seem to have possessed all the knowledge of mankind, ages before it could be useful to them, or to others, and to have lost it as soon as there was a call for it, had, centuries ago, not only moving tables, but even writing spirits. Their modern planchette is a small board, which they let float upon the water, with the legs upward; they rest their hands upon the latter, and watch the gyrations it makes in the water. Or they hold a small basket with a camel's-hair brush attached to one end suspended over a table upon which they have strewn a layer of flour; the brush begins to move through the flour and to draw characters in it, which they interpret according to their alphabet. The priests of Buddha in Mongolia, also, have long since employed moving tables, and for a good purpose, usually to detect thieves. The lama, who is appealed to for the purpose, sits down before a small four-legged table, upon which he rests his hands, whilst reading a book of devotion. After perhaps half an hour, he rises, and as he does so, holding his hand steadily upon the table, the table also rises and follows his hand, which he raises till hand and table are both level with his eyes. Then the priest advances, the table precedes him, and soon begins to move at such a rate that it seems to fly through the air, and the lama can hardly follow. Sometimes it falls down upon the very spot where the stolen goods are hidden; at other times it only indicates the direction in which they are to be sought for; and not unfrequently it refuses altogether to move, in which event the priest abandons the case as hopeless. (Nord. Biene, April 27, 1853.) Here also it is evident that the table is not the controlling agent, but the will of the lama, whom it obeys by one of those mysterious powers which we call magic. It is the same force which acts in the divining rod, the pendulum, and similar phenomena.
The name of Medium is an American invention, and is based upon the assumption that only a few favored persons are able to enter into direct communication with spirits, who may then convey the revelations they receive to others. They are generally children and young persons, but among grown men also certain constitutions seem to be better adapted to such purposes than others. In almost all cases it has been observed, that the electric condition of the medium is a feature of greatest importance; the more electricity he possesses, the better is he able to produce magic phenomena, and when his supply is exhausted by a long session, his power also ceases. Hence, perhaps, the peculiar qualification of children; while, on the other hand, the fact that they not unfrequently are able to answer questions, in languages, of which they are ignorant, proves that they also do not themselves give the reply, but only receive it from the questioner, and state it as it exists in the mind of the latter. Hence, also, the utter absurdity of so-called spirit paintings, and, still worse, of poetical effusions like Mr. Harris' "Lyric of the Golden Age," in eleven thousand four hundred and thirty wretched verses. For what the "circle" does not know individually or collectively, the medium also is not able to produce. This truth is made still more evident by the latest phenomena developed in spiritualistic circles, the so-called trance speaking, which may be heard occasionally in New York circles, and which requires no interposition of a medium. For here, also, we are struck by the utter absence of usefulness in all these revelations; the inspired believers speak, they recite poetry, but it remains literally vox et præterea nihil, and we are forcibly reminded of the words of Æschylus, who already said in his "Agamemnon" (v. 1127),