“Again, on being remonstrated with for illiteracy, it defended itself by saying: ‘I always was a bad speler’ (sic); an orthographical blunder that no one in the room was capable of making. But on the whole, our Planchette is a scientific and cultivated intelligence, of more than average order, though it may be, at times, slightly inaccurate in orthography, and occasionally quote incorrectly; I must even confess that there are moments when its usual elegance of diction lapses into slang terms and abrupt contradictions. But, after all, though we flatter ourselves that as a family we contain rather more than ordinary intelligence, still it is more than a match for us.”
Who can fail to perceive, from these quotations and admissions, the marked and distinctive individuality of the intelligence that was here manifested, as being of itself totally fatal to the idea of derivation from the circle?
But not only was this intelligence distinctive, but in several instances even antagonistic to that existing in the circle, as in the case reported as follows:
“Some one desiring to pose this ready writer, asked for its theory of the Gulf Stream; which it announced without hesitation to be ‘Turmoil in the water produced by conglomeration of icebergs.’ Objection was made that the warmth of the waters of the natural phenomenon rather contradicted this original view of the subject; to which Planchette tritely responded: ‘Friction produces heat.’ ‘But how does friction produce heat in this case?’ pursued the questioner. ‘Light a match,’ was the inconsequent answer—Planchette evidently believing that the pupil was ignorant of first principles. ‘But the Gulf Stream flows north; how, then, can the icebergs accumulate at its source?’ was the next interrogation; which elicited the contemptuous reply: ‘There is as much ice and snow at the south pole as at the north, ignorant Clarkey.’ ‘But it flows from the Gulf of Mexico?’ pursued the undismayed. ‘You’ve got me there, unless it flows underground,’ was the cool and unexpected retort; and it wound up by declaring, sensibly, that, after all, ‘it is a meeting of the north and south Atlantic currents, which collide, and the eddie (sic) runs northward.’ [At another time,] on being twice interrogated in regard to a subject, it replied tartly: ‘I hate to be asked if I am sure of a fact.’”
Now, what could have been this intelligence which thus insisted upon preserving and asserting its individuality so distinctly as to forbid all reasonable hypothesis of a compounded derivation from the minds of the circle, even were such a thing possible? A fairy, perhaps, snugly cuddled up under the board so as to elude observation. Friend “Clarkey,” try again, for surely this time you are a little befogged, or else the present writer is more so.
“TO DAIMONION” (THE DEMON).
There was published, several years ago, by Gould & Lincoln, Boston, a little work entitled: “To Daimonion, or the Spiritual Medium. Its nature illustrated by the history of its uniform mysterious manifestations when unduly excited. By Traverse Oldfield.” This author deals largely in quotations from ancient writers in illustration of his subject; and as an attempt to explain the mysteries of clairvoyance, trance, second-sight, “spirit-knockings,” intelligent movements of physical bodies without hands, etc., his work has claims to our attention which do not usually pertain to the class of works to which it belongs. “To Daimonion” (the demon), or the “spiritual medium,” he supposes to be the spiritus mundi, or the spirit of the universe, which formed so large an element in the cosmological theories of many ancient philosophers; and this, “when unduly excited” (whatever that may mean), he supposes to be the medium, not only of many psychic and apparently preternatural phenomena described in the writings of all previous ages, but also of the similar phenomena of modern times, of which it is now admitted that Planchettism is only one of the more recently developed phases. For some reason, which seemed satisfactory to him, but which we fear he has not made clear or convincing to the mass of his readers, this writer assumes it as more than probable that this spiritus mundi—a living essence which surrounds and pervades the world, and even the whole universe—is identical with the “nervous principle” which connects the soul with the body,—in all this unconsciously reaffirming nearly the exact theory first propounded by Mesmer, in explanation of the phenomena of “animal magnetism,” so called. Quotations are given from Herodotus, Xenophon, Cicero, Pliny, Galen, and many others, referring to phenomena well known in the times in which these several writers lived, and which he supposes can be explained only on the general hypothesis here set forth; and in the same category of marvels, to be explained in the same way, he places the performances of the snake-charmers, clairvoyants, thought-readers, etc., of modern Egypt and India.
This spiritus mundi, or “nervous principle,” to which he supposes the ancients referred when they spoke of “the demon,” is, according to his theory, the medium, or menstruum, by which, under certain conditions of “excitement,” the thoughts and potencies of one mind, with its affections, emotions, volitions, etc., flow into another, giving rise to reflex expressions, which, to persons ignorant of this principle, have seemed possible only as the utterances of outside and supermundane intelligences. And as this same spiritus mundi, or demon, pervades and connects the mind equally with all physical bodies, in certain other states of “excitement” it moves those physical bodies, or makes sounds upon them, expressing intelligence—that intelligence always being a reflex of the mind of the person who, consciously or unconsciously, served as the exciting agent.
Whatever elements of truth this theory, in a different mode of application, might be found to possess, in the form in which it is here presented it is encumbered by two or three difficulties which altogether seem fatal. In the first place, it wears upon its face the appearance of a thing “fixed up” to meet an emergency, and which would never have been thought of except by a mind pressed almost to a state of desperation by the want of a theory to account for a class of facts. Look at it: “The spirit of the world identical with the nervous principle”!—the same, “when unduly excited,” the medium by which a mind may unconsciously move other minds and organisms, or even dead matter, in the expression of its own thoughts! Where is the shadow of proof? Is it anything more than the sheerest assumption?
Then again: even if this mere assumption were admitted for truth, it would not account for that large class of facts referred to in the course of our remarks on the “Electrical theory,” unless this spiritus mundi, demon, nervous principle, or spiritual medium, is made at once not only the “medium,” but the intelligent and designing source of the communication; for, as we have said before, it would be perfectly useless to deny that thoughts are sometimes communicated through the Planchette and similar channels, which positively never had any existence in the minds of any of the persons visibly present.