MagicGizmo

I still remember how I felt when I saw the first magical performance. As soon as the doors were opened I took my seat and waited a full hour for the moment when the curtain would raise in front of this world of wonders. And when the performance began, when eggs changed to dollars, dollars to pocket handkerchiefs, when bird cages disappeared in the air, and empty boxes held numerous presents, I felt as if I was living in a land of dreams, far away from the earth.

Now books without number, from the cheap "sell" of a ten cent pamphlet to a finely bound and fully illustrated edition, offer to initiate you into the mysteries of the black art. But all these books and directions, with but few exceptions, say only in what the trick consists, not how it is done, without regard to the fact that the most interesting tricks are kept secret by the adepts or only revealed in consideration of an extra high price. Apparatus and explanations do not reveal the "kernel" of modern magic. If you know how a conjurer causes a dollar to disappear, you know nothing, and you will be deceived hundreds of times by this same trick; and if you practice it exactly according to directions, the chances are that you will have only mediocre success in performing it. What makes prestidigitation the art of deception, is not the technical outward appearance, but the psychological kernel. The ingenious use of certain soul faculties weighs incomparably heavier than all dexterity and machinery. To prove this fact and to analyze it theoretically is the task of this article. We must first however introduce, the reader to the society with whose doings we wish to make him acquainted.

The history of jugglery forms an important part in the long history of human deception. The first period in which the production of seemingly impossible occurrences makes a claim to higher powers, reaches from the beginning of the Egyptian priesthood to the beginning of the middle ages. Followers of this seriously deceiving tendency are to be found in our days in the spiritualistic mediums. To a second period belong the jugglers of the middle ages and modern times, for they admit that everything is done in a natural way. The third period dates from the beginning of our century. For the first time, the conjurers appear on the Stage, they are received in society. They exclude all jugglerism from their programmes, and work with cards, coins, handkerchiefs and other ordinary objects. Of course the jugglers did not disappear altogether, but they retired to the villages, and had nothing to do with the better class of their professional brothers. Only occasionally was such a nomad heard from. One of them was Signor Castelli, who travelled through Europe in the '20s, going by wagon and using a portable stage. He attracted great attention by announcing his intention of devouring a living person at each performance. The solution of the riddle was that the rough fellow would invite a volunteer from the audience and having secured one, would begin by biting his neck which caused the subject to retire precipitately, making the execution of the trick impossible.

The conjurers of the better class were mostly French or Italian, and called themselves physiciens or escamoteurs. The name of prestidigitateur comes from Jules de Rovere. He belonged to the masters of that old school, to which belonged also Olivier, Prejean, Brazy, Comus, Chalons, Adrien pere, Courtois and Comte, not to mention Lichtenberg's famous Pinetti. The most important was undoubtedly Comte. A Frenchman from head to foot, he did most extraordinary things with rare taste and great amiability. All of his illusions, meant for small audiences, carried the impress of finest humor. For instance, he would assure his audience he was going to steal all the ladies present, the gentlemen were a little frightened and somewhat amused; Comte reassures them that he will do it to their satisfaction; he waves his hands in the air and produces a quantity of the most beautiful roses out of nothing. He continues: "I had promised to take away and metamorphose all these ladies, could I select a more graceful and pleasant form? In metamorphosing you all to roses, do I not offer the copy to the model? Don't I take you away to give you back yourselves? Tell me, gentlemen, did I not succeed?" Then he begins to divide the flowers among them; "Here, mademoiselle, is a rose you make blush with jealousy." In front of another pretty girl he changes the rose into an ace of hearts, and the gallant wizard says: "Will you please, madam, place your hand on your heart? You have only one heart, am I not right? I beg your pardon for this indiscreet question, it was necessary, for though you have only one heart, you might have them all." Such gallantries are told about Comte by the hundred.

An important progress in the development of the art was made by Philippe and Torrini. The latter especially possessed such extraordinary dexterity in handling cards and such an incredible boldness of execution that the audience was involuntarily carried away to admiration without suspicion. His piquet trick stands alone of its kind. In other respects also he showed admirable boldness. He was an Italian nobleman, who had, by adverse circumstances, been driven to take the career of a conjurer, and once while staying in Rome, he was invited to give a performance before the Pope. The day before, he happened to see in a jeweler's window a very valuable watch, which was said to be the only one in existence like the celebrated watch of the Cardinal X. This one had but just arrived the day before from Paris. After Torrini had ascertained that the cardinal would be present at the performance be bought the chronometer for the respectable sum of twelve hundred francs, and made the watchmaker promise to keep silent about the matter.

At the close of his performance he asked for any very costly object, which if possible was the only one of its kind in the world. At the pope's order and with evident reluctance, the cardinal handed his watch to the artist. Torrini took a mortar and pestle and pounded the beautiful piece of mechanism into a thousand atoms, to the horror of the audience. The cardinal announced with a trembling voice that his watch had not been exchanged, as he could recognize it in the pieces. In reality the watch had been destroyed. Torrini used this moment of general excitement to slip the genuine watch unobserved into the pocket of the Pope's robe. As soon as quietness was restored, he asked the audience to name a person who was sure not to be in secret understanding with him. As he expected, everybody pointed to Pius VII. "Very well," continued Torrini, making some mysterious motions, "I want to reproduce the watch and it shall be found in the pocket of His Holiness." The Pope immediately felt in his pocket with signs of incredulity and blushing with excitement took the watch from his pocket, which he handed to the cardinal in a great hurry as if he was afraid of it, or might burn his fingers with the mysterious thing. One can imagine what a sensation this caused in Rome. Torrini never repented this expensive but original advertisement.

A conjurer must be able to show a varied pedigree. On his mother's side he must be a direct descendant of the witch of Endor, on his father's side he must descend from the magician Merlin, he must have had Zomebogh and Sykorax for god-fathers and count Faust's witch among his cousins. In other words he must be born to his profession. The modem wizard must possess in a high degree the same quality as a physician. He must inspire confidence. The audience must believe, him when he says he holds an orange in his left hand, even if it has passed long before into his right hand. The capability to win at the start the sympathy of the public, in order that the audience, without exception be willing to follow the intentions of the artist, cannot be acquired, and yet the chief help of the prestidigitateur lies in just this mood of the public.

It is not by dexterity alone that he accomplishes his wonders. The word prestidigitation is not well chosen. A good conjurer makes the uninitiated believe that he does everything so skillfully and rapidly that you cannot be deceived. In reality however he makes the necessary motions with great calmness and slowness. The perfection lies in the art to influence the spectator to such an extent that you can do anything before his eyes without its being noticed. An expert must of course have a natural talent for this second requirement of his profession. We see many amateurs who could have achieved good results if only they had not had the foolish vanity to boast of their "dexterity." The charm of this art does not lie in the power to surprise the spectator with apelike rapidily, but the capability of making him go home with the feeling thai he has spent an hour in a real world of wonders. The last effect is from an aesthetic point of view, much higher than the first, and raises prestidigitation above the level of Jugglery. The reason for this is that persons from the best circles of society, take to conjuring without hesitation, but would never think of producing juggling tricks.

The caution for less haste has another reason. The audience needs time to see the movements and understand their meaning. If for instance in some transformation, the second phase takes place without the first being properly announced, say if in the changing of an orange into an apple nobody noticed that the first object was really an orange the whole trick is of course a failure. Therefore the real conjurer must have that perfect repose which is not given to everybody. Besides a presence which inspires confidence and an imposing address, he must have the faculty to surround himself with a magical atmosphere in which the spectators believe the most incredible thing's possible and take the most simple as wonderful. In this direction lies the psychological importance of many little devices which the practical man generally uses. For instance he does not ask for the needed dollar, but charms it out of the nose of some stranger. He does not put his gloves in his pockets like ordinary beings, but rubs them away between his hands. At last the spectator does not know how to get out of such a labyrinth of witchcraft, and is in a frame of mind which makes the conjurer's task an easy one.

The main secret of all prestidigitateurs, however, lies in the power to direct the thoughts of the audience into such a groove that a solution of the trick seems for the moment the natural result of the artificially underlying causes. The public must think the card has been transformed by a breath; in this way following the train of thoughts which has been suggested by the conjurer in all possible ways. Then reason turns up and says: It is impossible that a breath can transform an ace of hearts into a jack of spades, and from this logical contradiction of two simultaneous ideas, results the unpleasant consciousness of illusion. Self consciousness is the subjective, condition of this psychological foundation of the conjurer's art. From the moment he takes the cards in his hands, the artist must believe firmly that he can do as he pleases. Every expression must fall from his mouth as though it were a real magic sentence, and his own false assertions must seem truth to himself. Only he who is convinced convinces. Much depends on the skillful grouping of the trick. In this way a comparatively simple trick may be used profitably as a pedagogic preparation for a greater wonder, and thought connections can he produced which are very favorable to the success of the experiments.

The most important in the art of performing however is the language and the gestures. No rules can be given, but perhaps an example can explain what is required. Let us take for instance the vanishing of a dollar. Directions say: Take the dollar between the thumb and middle finger of the left hand, take hold of it seemingly with the right hand which is then immediately closed, then you open it and shown it empty to the audience against their expectations. The whole trick consists in dropping the dollar into the palm of the left hand where it remains concealed. This is done at the moment you pretend to take hold of it with the right hand. One should see this simple trick performed by some first-class anist like Prof. Rouclere. He takes the dollar and throws it repeatedly on the wooden table top, to prove as he says, that it is a genuine dollar. In reality he gives every one the impression that a thing which makes so much noise cannot disappear noiselessly, an impression which increases the effect of the trick. Then the clear vibrating sound confuses the spectators to such a degree that they follow further developments in a sleepy condition. He then takes the coin in his left hand, looks closely at the right hand, as if it were the most important, and takes hold of the dollar. This trick is so convincing that you would be willing to swear the right hand held the coin, the position of the fingers adapts them naturally to this supposition. As soon as he has taken hold he moves his right hand sideways, away from the left hand, the whole body follows the movement; the head bent forward, the look in his eyes, everything forces the spectator to follow this hand. In the meantime the two first fingers of the left hand point to the right hand, while the two other fingers hold the coin which is covered by the thumb. By such shading and particularly by the constant talking of the artist the whole attention is concentrated on the right hand, and everybody makes up his mind to pay close attention, to see how the dollar will disappear from this hand. He makes little, backward movements with the fingers, by which they move gradually away from the palm of the hand, and apparently deeply interested in the phenomenon, he says, "see how the dollar grows smaller and smaller, there, it has disappeared entirely, melted away." He opens the fingers wide, straightens himself up, and the sparkling eyes seem to say, "how queerly that disappeared, it is strange!"

How can one be educated to become such a wizard? The reader will ask. First of all practice, practice constantly. You go from the simple tricks to the more difficult ones by practicing first the single part, then the whole. This first stage, which can be learned from teachers and books, contains but few psychologically important elements. As soon as the technical side of a trick is mastered to perfection, the student must turn to the dramatic, which is the most important as far as the effect is concerned. Hence in order to acquire the greatest possible naturalness it is better to practice in front of a mirror. In doing so the conjurer must do really what he later on only pretends to do. He must observe closely the positions and motions of his hands, and imitate them with great accuracy, that there may be no difference between reality and illusion.

First of all he must become accustomed to following with his eyes the hand which seems to hold the object, as it is the surest means to draw the attention of the audience in the same direction. From the preceding we can see that touch and sight are the most important senses in the execution of our art. Methodical cultivation is the chief object of the studious prestidigitateur. It is a good plan to practice the juggler's art in order to learn the accommodation of motion. In researches in so-called Myology, we have had much to do with jugglers, and must admit that the fine sensibility of these people for the slightest vacillation of balance and the adaptation of their movements are almost incredible. A Japanese performer juggled once four differently weighted balls in the air, and at the same time read aloud from an English paper; he must therefore calculate exactly what motions to make with his hands, though his eyes and attention were occupied in another direction. The French conjurer Cazeneuve possesses an equally wonderful sensibility of touch. He is able to take from the top of a pack of cards, by placing his fingers at the ends of the cards, any number he wishes at one grasp. You ask for six cards, he takes the cards off and gives you exactly six, without stopping to look at or count them himself. You ask for twenty, he does the same, thirteen, thirty, twenty-four, always the same success. What fabulous sensibility is necessary for these slight differences in height can best be learned by trying the same experiment.

Robert-Houdin gives important hints for the development of sight. He had always admired in pianists the capability of looking over a large number of black dots; he saw that this appreciative observation could be carried further if based on intelligence and memory. He began a series of exercises which can be explained in a few words. Nearly all normal persons can give the number of a few objects at a glance, mostly five. Whether there are three, four or five coins lying together, one can see without thinking but as the number increases a little reflection is necessary. Houdin, with his son Emile, undertook to cultivate their perceptions to such a degree that they could calculate the number of domino stones which were taken at random from a set. After some weeks' practice the maximum had reached 12. Now he changed the experiments to include objects of different kinds. For this purpose they took daily walks through the streets together, when they came to a show window filled with different articles, they looked in attentively, then walking away stopped after going a few steps, and made notes of the objects they had seen in that short time. At first they only saw four or five distinctly, in months they had carried it to thirty, the little one even sometimes to forty. With the help of this abnormal power of perception, Houdin was enabled, to do most of his brilliant tricks, among others the experiment called "Second Sight."

Now-a-days we can easily explain this so-called Second Sight, which in the '40's and '50's attracted the attention of the whole civilized world. The father collected on a table a number of objects, say twenty, and turned around for half a minute in such a way that the boy could see them, then he was able to tell the number of objects and describe them; what was missing could be helped out by an ingenious code of signals. This was specially used when the articles were wrapped up. In this case Houdin would draw the giver into a short conversation, using the time to bore a little hole in the wrapping paper with his thumb nail which he kept sharp for that purpose, and to examine the contents with the eagle eye of the former mechanic. It is astonishing to hear that experiments were made in this way, which were almost wonders. We are also told that he profited by his studies in another direction. This practicing had given him the faculty of following simultaneously two different ideas or things; he would think of what he was doing and what he was saying, two very different operations with the conjurer. It is a very important thing for the artist to make the play of his hands quite independent of the motions of his body, and to perform the trick without moving the parts of the body not in use. The fingers must form a mechanism by themselves, which works quite independently. Only then is the conjurer able to observe the faces of the spectators with sufficient care to avoid threatening dangers. So armed he will be invincible. The practiced artist never fails in his tricks. The facility of execution is the only thing that depends in a certain way on the public. The ignorant are more difficult to deceive than the educated. The former sees in every "tour" a mistrust in his intelligence, an attempt to dupe him, against which he fights with all his might, while the latter gives himself up willingly to the illusion, as he came for the purpose of being deceived. But it is almost incredible what "naivete" the best educated often display. We have seen a professor who when speaking or the well known linking ring trick, swore high and low that he had examined all eight rings, though in realty he had held but two in his hands. The explanation of this lies in the two elementary functions of our psychological organism; association and imitation.

The laws of representative reproduction are the leading points for the mechanic of consciousness (thoughtful mechanic). Modern psychology teaches that when representation A, has been simultaneous with representation B, or immediately preceded it, B has a tendency to return to consciousness as soon as A returns. It is then said that B is associated with A. The sight of a knife handle awakens in you immediately the idea of the blade always seen with it, and the flash of lightning always produces the expectation of a thunderbolt. The simplest type of deception consists in that certain expectations are not fulfilled by unusual outward circumstances. When I can feel with crossed fingers more than one round object, where there is only one, I can be convinced only by seeing that I have but one sphere. The experience was made a thousand times that what is felt double is also double produces in this case an illusion. It happens sometimes when you are traveling that early in the morning you lift your water pitcher in such a manner that it almost flies up to the ceiling; the reason is the carelessness of the chambermaid, who has forgotten to fill the pitcher. The weight of the pitcher and the required exertion are associated together in a peculiar way. The reader has surely already seen the puzzling trick of breaking several borrowed rings and loading them in a pistol, which is then fired at a box, from which are taken haif a dozen others in she innermost of which are found the rings. Without stopping to explain the first part of this trick we shall examine the second part. The artist places a large box on the table, he unlocks and opens it, in it is found a smaller box which is taken out, opened and found to contain a third box. When the conjurer has shown to the public that 2 came out of 1, and 3 out of 2, he can easily take the last and smallest box from the ledge of the table, in such a manner as if it came out of the next largest box. The observer is fully convinced of the truth by the reality of the first circumstances and never doubts that 4 came out of 3. The psychological foundation of deception lies in the ingenious use of the usual association. The taking of a box and the taking of this box out of another box are two representations, between which the cleverness of the conjurer has artificially drawn a close connection. The spectator is led to draw a logically correct conclusion from two first causes, also in me third case, where the suppositions do not take place as in the first and second cases. We have herein a new principle in conjuring. It is first to really do that which you want the observer to believe you have done. In fact this rule is often followed in reality; First, the artist really throws a few dollars into the hat before he prevents the others by palming, from following their predecessors; he actually places one card on the second pack, before he slides the other four into his sleeve.

The disappearing of an orange in the air is a classical illustration of this fact. You sit at the head of a table, throw an orange about two feet high, catch it with one hand and drop this hand below the table top as you do so, the orange is again thrown up, and this time about 4 feet, it is again caught and again the hand goes down below the table for a third throw, but the orange, this time is dropped on your lap and without a moment's hesitation, the third throwing motion is made. Nine-tenths of the public see the orange disappear in the air. In this simple and instructive experiment there is no covering as in the trick of passing the coins into the hat mentioned above, and there is no apparatus as in the trick with the boxes. Everything depends on the subjective conditions of deception not on any outward means. Some small tricks are to be understood in the sense of psychological measures. Suppose that a coin left in the right hand passed seemingly into the left hand. If the conjurer would open the left hand immediately and show that the coin was not in it, the spectator would easily find the proper explanation, namely that the dollar never passed into the left hand. But if he waits one or two moments before he shows the hand open in order that the spectators get used to the thought that it holds the coin, and if he rubs the palm of the left hand gently with the right hand, he not only gives the latter a proper occupation but also gives the spectators an impression that the mysterious movement of the right hand is in some way the cause of the disappearance of the coin. One must experience how such trifles can deceive sharp and competent observers. The spectator knows in the abstract very well that the rubbing of the palm with the fingers of the other hand is no adequate, reason for the disappearance of the coin, but as the disappearance is beyond a doubt, the mind involuntarily accepts the explanations offered indirectly.

The really senseless "ruffling" of cards works in the same way. Suppose the case when the conjurer puts a certain card in a certain place in the pack necessary for the trick without the spectator being aware of it. First he shows that everything is in its proper place, he ruffles the cards and most spectators believe that the transposinon took place at that moment and will understand less about the trick than they would otherwise. This last trick can be counted among those belonging to the category of diversion of attention. By awakening interest for some unimporlant detail, the conjurer concentrates the attention on some false point, or negatively, diverts it from the main object, and we all know the senses of an inattentive person are pretty dull. The pickpocket is psychologist enough to select theatres and exhibitions for the field of his exploits, because he is sure that in such places people pay little attention to watch and pocketbook. Just so the conjurer never reveals in advance the full nature of a trick, that the spectator may not know where to center his attention. The French conjurer, Decremps, gave a similar rule. When causing the disappearance of some object the conjurer counts one, two, three; the object must really disappear before three, not at three, because the attention of the public being directed to three, they do not notice what happens at one or two. Personally we have often wondered at our own unpretentious performances before friends how men of deep research can be so blind to what takes place before their eyes. The course of thought of the uninitiated never goes the natural way. He cannot imagine that the conjurer works with such simple means and such boldness. He looks for the most complicated hypothesis, or leads everything back to a favorite performance, as for instance, the disappearing of the object up the coat sleeve, which is very seldom used in practice. But no matter what he does it will always be possible to divert him for the moment so that the coup can be made unnoticed.

An especially successful method of diversion is founded on the human craze for imitation. We are inclined to imitate all actions we have witnessed. If we see somebody yawn, we yawn also, if we see him laugh, we feel a tickling in the corners of our mouth, if we see him turn around we have the same wish, if he look upwards we do the same. The conjurer counts on this in many cases. He always looks in the direction where he wants the attention of the public, and does everything himself which he wants the public to do. If he looks pensively at the ceiling, the heads of all present turn with an audible movement upwards, and it is a funny sight during this so see how the fingers exchange cards quietly or perform some other manipulations. If the trick is in the left hand ihe conjurer turns sharply to the person to his right presuming correctly that the spectators will make the same movement and will not notice what is going on in the left hand. In a great number of tricks he must bring a card to the top of the pack that has been placed in the middle of the pack. Naturally it would be wrong to make the necessary movement as soon as he has the card, because even the quickest and most skillful execution would, be noticed by the spectators. On the contrary the conjurer holds the pack quietly and after a short pause, asks the one who drew the card: "You are sure you will recognize the card again?" As soon as he begins to speak everybody will involuntarily look at his face and he can then "make the pass" in an easy manner. Every sharp short remark will for a moment at least divert the eyes from the hands and direct them to ths mouth, according to the above mentioned law of imitation.

Enough of the results of theoretical research for the practice of magic. The relations to scientific psychology are numerous and varied. Let us look at the series of experiments by Houdin which were based on momentary perception and counting of different objects. These objects deserve attention because they show a new way to class the higher actions of the soul-life numeratively. Psycho-Physics has confined itself till now to the lower psychical functions of the senses with the reaction in motions or judgments. Mr. Ebbinghaus some years ago began to put down complicated processes in numbers. This searcher examines how many words or syllables a person can remember, after hearing them once; further how often he must repeat a certain number of words to know them, how often he must repeat the same process after a few hours or a few days and what practice has to do with it. The same thought underlies Houdin's series. It treats of the slowly acquired faculty of giving the number of objects after looking at them once without any conscious addition, in other words it treats of that peculiar faculty of developed beings which can be called unconscious counting. According to the French conjurer and to the occasional communications of Mr. Preyer and others, the limit of momentary calculation lies between 5 and 6, and that would correspond with the limit beyond which we cannot remember one syllable words by hearing them only once. This shows a new possibility which deserves consideration, to put the mystery of our inner life in numbers and dates. When besides the number a description of the object is asked for, the task is complicated in a way which makes the solution much more difficult. Then the "interest" comes into play. A lady who can scarcely remember four equal objects at once can describe accurately the toilet of a lady who passed her in a carriage. Therefore the psychologist will be able to do but little with Houdin's second series. The trick to make an orange disappear in the air looks at first to be a positive hallucination. We mention the peculiar fact that even, in quite normal persons, artificial representations can be produced which have the character of outwardly induced perceptions, without there being anything in reality to bring them forth. The apparition however requires first a preceding attraction of the senses which removes it from hallucinations and brings it near to the so-called perception of repetition, and secondly there is no outward attraction.

There is no object flying up as substitute for the false conception of the orange, but only a motion. But the impression on the senses made by the motion is sufficient to produce the repeated picture of the associated object. We have to deal with an illusion, the subjective interpolating of a given object of perception. Mentally and physically healthy persons have illusions, especially when fear or other feelings excite the imagination. Those who understand hypnotism know that the concentration of all soul faculties on one certain effect will produce this effect subjectively.

Whilst there are no positive hallucinations to be found in the realm of deception, there are enough negative hallucinations. A positive hallucination makes you see something which does not exist. A negative causes you to see where there is something. Who has not happened to look for an object which was right before his eyes? The impression on the senses exists, is received, but not taken into consciousness, and in this way a momentary condition of soul blindness is produced in which negative hallucinations are possible. The conjurer produces artificially such abstractions and uses them systematically for his purposes. Mr. Moll says very correctly that "the perception of objects can be prevented in hypnotized people by suggestion." Look at the conjurer's hands and pay close attention, and you will see how he conceals objects, makes the pass, and how he exchanges cards right before the eyes of the spectators. The conjurer however knows how to attract the attention by adroit speeches, so that even those who see the hands are not able to explain the transactions. The exchange of cards for instance is seen by the spectator, the sense is excited, but it does not touch consciousness. We could go further yet than Moll has done in citing analogies between the psychology of hypnotism and of prestidigitation.

In conclusion we will mention a contribution which magic gives us for the compression of free will. The well known trick of having a card drawn from a pack and to correctly name the card immediately, consists in that the spectator believes he is choosing one himself, while the conjurer confines the will and forces it into a certain direction, mostly by putting the card to be selected in an easy place, or by moving it forward at the moment when the fingers of the person reach for it. There is probably no better illustration for the determination of all our actions; and in playing the cards of the game of life, we do not seize haphazard any card but select those which some unknown law prescribes for us.

"Spiritualism is magic." You often hear this explanation made by those who do not know, and a number of harmless fellows try to prove it by "anti-spiritualistic demonstrations." The kernel of the thing is not reached thereby, as is proved by the ever increasing number of the followers of the new doctrine, and by the number of scholars who persist in the defense of mediumistic facts notwithstanding all exposures.

The principal reason seems to be the following: In our age of natural science, religion and philosophy do not offer the masses support enough to gain clearness about the problem of life. Still the metaphysical need of all deeper minds drives them ever the materialistic desert; spiritualism in the armor of exact science steps in and says: "I will prove to you, that there is life after death." Can it be wondered at that such experimental ethics find a loud echo in thoughtful people, and that a social stir takes the place of the seeds of those beliefs which have existed at all times and with all nations?

The circumspect science is powerless against such streams. He who believes with all his heart in spiritualism cannot be convinced by reasoning; logic always succumbs before feeling and humors. It will therefore be useless to throw a few drops of water upon the fire of the psychological epidemic.

Side by side with the fanatics of the spirit belief are many who consider it their duty to examine with an unprejudiced mind all remarkable reports and all phenomena. For those only are meant the following remarks as a sort of application of the foregoing explanations.

We owe our knowledge of mediumistic apparitions almost without exception to written reports. In other words, we never know what has happened somewhere, but only what certain persons believe to have experienced.

is a great difference between the two, as we have seen. A person sees an orange disappear in the air, without being able to explain the wonder; he believes to have examined eight rings, while he only had two in his hands; he believes to have drawn a card according to his own free will, while it was put in his fingers; he believes to have held an object continually while it was in quite a different place for some minutes. When later on he describes these tricks to a third person the latter considers them incomprehensible. It is extremely naive when the reporters attempt to render exactly the objective transactions in describing their subjective observations.

Davey's experiments are a proof of the reverse. This gentleman who is a member of the London Society for Psychical Research and was a prestidigitateur from inclination, acquired by constant practice such a perfection in the well known slate writing, that he gave successful performances before numerous people. He never told the guests that he had communications from the spirits; nor that it was magic; he let everyone think whatever he pleased. After the seance, which was given free of charge, Mr. Davey requested those present to send him on the following day their impressions in writing. He published the letters received which sound so extraordinary that one could believe in secret forces.

Writing on slates which were closed and kept carefully secluded; writing on slates which were pressed by the witnesses against the lower surface of the table or held by them near the table; answers to questions which were written secretly on double slates; correct quotations from books which had been chosen at random by other witnesses. sometimes only in thought, when the books were not even touched by the medium and the slates carefully watched; messages in different languages unknown to the medium. Although self-writing pieces of slate pencil were heard and moving pieces of chalk were seen, none of the spectators saw the most interesting phenomenon, namely, the writing of, and by, Mr. Davey.

The sources from which come such exaggerated reports can be classed in four groups. First; the observer interpolates a fact which did not occur, but which he has been forced to believe has occurred; he imagines he has examined the slate, when in fact he has not. Second: he confuses two like ideas; he says he has examined the slates thoroughly when in reality he only did it superficially or without knowledge of the main points. Third: the witness changes the order of events according to a very easy deception of memory. In his opinion he examined the slates much later than he really did. Fourth and last: he overlooks certain details which he has been purposely told were of no consequence, he does not mention that the medium asked him once to close the window, by which the trick was made possible. You cannot remember everything, much less write it down. How difficult it is to write in unobjectionable completeness on every day occurrence: how much more difficult to describe an event which bears the character of the inexplicable and which, by its skipping appearance, makes a constant observation almost impossible. Added to this, most people go to the seances expecting wonders. Mr. Davey has proved by experiments that of equally able spectators, those are better capable of seeing through the modus operandi who know that magic is at work. It is easy to understand how expectancy, the charm of mystery and the crude illusions to the most sacred affairs of the heart (by citing dead relations) must excite the nerves and impair the sharp eye. Besides the medium is especially careful to leave the audience in doubt as to the interpretation of what has been seen and heard and this psychical condition of the spectators holds the key for many otherwise inexplicable events. Every rustling passes for a rap, every light reflection for a spirit form, every accidental touch for the manifestation from higher spheres. The spectator overlooks the natural, physical explanation on one side and, on the other, creates wonders out of nothing. He infects others with his excitement and is in his turn influenced by them.

The same form which is recognized by a spectator in cold blood as the skillfully draped figure of the medium, is taken by the audience as the faithful image of different persons who in their lifetime had no resemblance whatever.

An American naturalist tells us he had to put his hands to his head when he heard the same puppet addressed as "grandmother," "my sweet Betty," "papa," "little Rob." Everybody sees what he expects to see, and what touches his interests most closely. Create a belief and the facts will come of themselves.

When an object disappears or changes its place, the spiritualist sees in the fact a sign of supernatural influence, like the Papuan who suspects a spirit behind every cannon-ball. Because he does not know powder, he lacks certain knowledge without which it is impossible to judge rightly.

Common sense alone does not entitle a person to judge competently of the safety of fetters; only the man who is familiar with the technique of knots and the different ways of tying can express an opinion. To decide whether a closure is right or not requires technical knowledge. Most people imagine that they can go unprepared to a spiritualistic seance and pass a correct opinion on the existence or non-existence of prestidigitation. This standpoint is as childish as when a layman expresses himself on the genuineness of the seal of the middle-ages or on the nature of a nervous affection.

Let us explain this with an example.

The conjurer often uses the trick to make an occurrence of greater importance by referring it to a heterogeneal hearer. The trick to make "any watch a repeater," consists in that a little watch carried in the pocket makes the sound, and the manipulations with the watch are only apparently made. Those who do not know this will hardly think that the harmonica of Monk and Home, played by invisible hands can be explained in the same way. A constant number in Dr. Monks program was to put a musical box on the table, to cover it with a cigar box and to make it play and stop as desired. General explanation: "Spirits." In reality the sounds proceeded from a musical box, which concealed by the wide trousers was carried above the knee and set in motion by being pressed against the table. Here also the old psychological rule proves true: "the simpler a trick, the harder it is to find it out."

A great advantage for the deceiving medium lies in the fact that he makes "conditions for his success," and at the worst puts the blame of a failure on the audience or on the spirits. We hear that half-darkness is very advantageous, because it is 'positive,' that we must never look where something is in its development, and other nice things, Mrs. Sidgwick, the wife of the well known Cambridge professor of philosophy and president of the Society for Psychical Research counts five reasons for doubt in Slade's performances; his efforts to divert attention, his position which always allows him to manipulate the slate with his right hand, the vague character of his communications, the limitation of the spectators to two or three and the way he places them, which excludes all possibility of their looking under the table.

She might have added that according to the observation of Seybert's commission, Slade and other mediums with the genuine conjurer's craftiness, perform the tricks before they announce what is going to happen.

To the accomplished magician and conjurer it is comparatively easy to explain the smallest fractions ot spiritualistic experiences through the psychology of magic. I mean to say that they can be traced to deceitful manipulations, and to the use of known means. In reaching this conclusion, diametrically opposite to that of Dr. Dessoir, I am not only expressing my own opinion but also that of many persons of many years experience in spiritualistic circles.