There is, however, one important factor lacking in the conjurer's
performance to illustrate completely the psychology of deception;
it is that the mental attitude of the observer is too definite. He
knows that he is being deceived by skill and adroitness, and rather
enjoys it the more, the more he is deceived. He has nothing at stake;
his mind rests easy without any detailed or complete explanation
of how it was done. Quite different must have been the feeling of
the spectator before the necromancer of old, in whose performance
was seen the evidence of secret powers that could at a moment's
notice be turned against any one to take away good luck, to bring on
disease, or even to transform one into a beast. When magic spells
and wonder-working potions were believed in, what we would now speak
of as a trick was surrounded with a halo of awe and mystery by the
sympathetic attitude of the spectators. The most complete parallel
to this in modern times is presented by the physical phenomena
of Spiritualism; and so many of the manifestations presented by
performing mediums in evidence of Spiritualism have been exposed and
proven to be conjuring tricks, that it is no longer an assumption to
consider them in this connection. Spiritualistic phenomena present
a perfect mine for illustrations of the psychology of deception, and
it is these that I shall consider as the final topic in this cursory
view.
The first general principle to be borne in mind is that the medium
performs to spectators _in doubt_ as to the interpretation to be
placed upon what they see, or more or less prepared or determined
to see in everything the evidence of the supernatural. This mental
attitude on the part of the spectators is worth more to the medium
than any single factor in the performance. The difference between
such a presentation and one addressed to persons cognizant of the
conjuring element in the performance and interested in its detection,
cannot be exaggerated. It is this that makes all the difference
between the séance swarming with miracles, any one of which
completely revolutionizes the principles of science, and the tedious
dreariness of a blank sitting varied only by childish utterances and
amateurish sleight-of-hand. Careful observers often report that the
very same phenomena that were utterly beyond suspicion in the eyes of
believers are to unprejudiced eyes so apparent "that there was really
no need of any elaborate method of investigation"; close observation
was all that was required, and Mr. Davey, who conducted an admirable
investigation of the reliability of accounts of sleight-of-hand
performances, has experimentally shown that of equally good
observers, the one who is informed of the general _modus operandi_ by
which such a phenomenon as "slate-writing" is produced will make much
less of a marvel of it than one who is left in doubt in this regard.
With these all-powerful magicians--an expected result and the
willingness to credit a marvel--clearly in mind, let us proceed from
those instances in which they have least effect up to the point where
they form the chief factor. First come a host of conjuring tricks
performed on the stage in slightly modified forms, but which are
presented as "spiritualistic." So simple a trick as scratching a name
on one's hand with a clean pen dipped in water, then writing the
name on a slip of paper, burning the slip and rubbing the part with
the ashes, thus causing the ashes to cling to the letters formed on
the hand and reveal the name, has been offered as a proof of spirit
agency. Whenever an article disappears or rapidly changes its place,
the spiritualist is apt to see the workings of hidden spirits; and
over and over again have the performances of professional conjurers
been declared to be spiritual in origin in spite of all protest from
the conjurers themselves. Here everything depends upon the possession
of certain technical knowledge; judging without such knowledge is apt
to be mere prejudice. Another very large class of phenomena consists
of those in which the performer is placed in a position apparently
inconsistent with his taking any active part in their production;
rope-tying tests, cabinet séances, the appearance of a "spirit-hand"
from behind a screen, locking the performer in a cage, sewing him
in a bag, and so on. The psychologist has very little interest in
these; their solution depends upon the skill with which knots may be
picked, locks unfastened, and the other devices by which security
may be simulated. The chief interest in such performances is the
historical one, for these have done perhaps more than anything else
to convince believers of the truth of Spiritualism. Here, where
everything depends upon the security of the fastenings (for once
free, the medium can produce messages from the spirit-land limited
only by his ingenuity and boldness), upon the particular moment
when the examination was permitted or the light turned down, upon
the success with which an appearance of security and intactness
of seals and knots may be simulated, it might be supposed that
all possible precautions had been taken to control and eliminate
these possibilities; while, as a matter of fact, the laxity of most
investigators in this regard is well known. These performances
deceive because people overlook the technical acquisitions needed
to pronounce upon the possibility or impossibility of a fastening
having been tampered with and apparently restored without detection.
If manufacturers of safes were equally credulous, and gave equally
little time to the study of the security of locks, "safe" would be an
ironical expression indeed.
Passing next to the most interesting of spiritualistic
manifestations, those in which self-deception comes to the
foreground, I need hardly dwell at length upon the tilting of
tables, the production of raps by movements of which the sitters are
unconscious; for these have been so often and so ably presented that
they must now be well understood. Suffice it to say that it has been
objectively proven that it is almost impossible not to give some
indication of one's thoughts, when put upon the strain; and that
under excitement, these indications may become palpably plain and yet
remain unperceived by the individual who gives them. The extreme
subtlety of these indications is met by the unusual skill of the
professional mind-reader, who takes his clue from indications which
his subject is "absolutely confident he did not give." The assurances
of sitters that _they know_ they did not move the table are equally
valueless; and nothing but objective tests will suffice. The most
wholesome lesson to be derived from the study of these phenomena
is the proof that not all our intentions and actions are under
the control of consciousness, and that, under emotional or other
excitement, the value of the testimony of consciousness is very much
weakened. Again, it is almost impossible to realize the difficulty
of accurately describing a phenomenon lying outside the common range
of observation. Not alone that the knowledge necessary to pronounce
such and such a phenomenon impossible of performance by conjuring
methods is absent, but with due modesty and most sincere intentions
the readiness with which the observing powers and the memory play
one false is overlooked. In the investigation of Mr. Davey, above
referred to, the sitters prepared accounts of the "slate-writing"
manifestations they had witnessed, and described marvels that had
not occurred, but which they were convinced they had seen--messages
written on slates utterly inaccessible to Mr. Davey, and upon slates
which they had noticed a moment before were clean. The witnesses are
honest; how do these mistakes arise? Simply a detail omitted here, an
event out of place there, an unconscious insertion in one place, an
undue importance given to a certain point in another place--nothing
of which any one needs feel ashamed, something which it requires
unusual training and natural gifts to avoid. The mistake lies in not
recognizing our liability to such error.
If, however, the spectator is once convinced that he has evidence
of the supernatural, he soon sees it in every accident and incident
of the performance. Not only that he overlooks natural physical
explanations, but he is led to create marvels by the very ardor of
his sincerity. At a materializing séance the believer recognizes
a dear friend in a carelessly arranged drapery seen in a dim
light. Conclusive evidence of the subjective character of such
perceptions is furnished by the fact that the same appearance
is frequently recognized by different sitters as the spiritual
counterpart of entirely different and totally dissimilar persons. A
"spirit-photograph" is declared to be the precise image of entirely
unlike individuals. In the "Revelations of a Spirit Medium," we
read that a wire gauze mask placed in front of a handkerchief,
made luminous by phosphorus, and projected through the opening
of the cabinet, was "recognized by dozens of persons as fathers,
mothers, sisters, brothers, cousins, sweethearts, wives, husbands,
and various other relatives and friends." Each one sees what he
expects to see, what appeals to his interests the most intensely.
What the unprejudiced observer recognizes as the flimsily disguised
form of the medium, the believer transforms into the object of his
thoughts and longings. Only let the form be vague enough, the light
dim enough, the emotions upon a sufficient strain, and that part of
perception in which the external image is deficient will be readily
supplied by the subjective tendencies of each individual. In the
presence of such a mental attitude the possibilities of deception
are endless; the performer grows bolder as his victim passes from
a watchful, critical attitude to one of easy conviction, and we
get scientific proofs of the fourth dimension of space, of the
possibility of matter passing through matter, of the levitation or
elongation of the medium's body, of the transcendence of the laws of
gravity. And the same performance that convinced Professor Zoellner
of the reality of the fourth dimension of space would prove to the
spiritualist the intercourse with deceased friends, would convince
the theosophist of the flight of the performer's astral body; and,
it may not be irrelevant to add, it was the same type of performance
that served and yet serves to terrify the minds of uncultivated and
superstitious savages. All depends not upon what is done, but upon
the mental disposition of the spectator. Little by little, through
neglect, through mal-observation and lapses of memory, through an
unwillingness to mistrust the reports of an excited consciousness,
caution is abandoned and credulity enters. Mediums are actually seen
flying out of one window and in through another. The wildest and
most far-fetched fantastic explanation is preferred above a simple
one; the bounds of the normal are passed; real hallucinations set
in; conduct becomes irrational, and a state hardly distinguishable
from insanity ensues. If this seems improbable, turn to the records
of witchcraft persecutions and read upon what trifling and wholly
imaginary evidence thousands of innocent lives were sacrificed; and
this not by ignorant, bloodthirsty men, but by earnest, eminent, and
religious leaders. A child is taken sick, is remembered to have been
fondled by an old woman; therefore the woman has put the child under
a spell and must be burned. A man sees an old woman in the woods,
and, on turning about, the old woman is gone and a hare flies across
his track; he concludes that she turned herself into a hare, and the
witch test is applied. When the personal devil was believed in, he
was seen daily clothed in the garments that imagination had given
him, and engaged in mischief and villainy of all kinds. When witchery
was the dominant superstition, all things gave evidence of that. So
long as Spiritualism forms a prominent cult with a real hold upon the
beliefs of its adherents, the number of mediums and manifestations
will be correspondingly abundant. Create a belief in the theory, and
the facts will create themselves.
V
In the production of this state of mind a factor as yet unmentioned
plays a leading rôle, the power of mental contagion. Error, like
truth, flourishes in crowds. At the hearth of sympathy each finds
a home. The fanatical lead, the saner follow. When a person of
nervous temperament, not strongly independent in thought and action,
enters a spiritualistic circle, where he is constantly surrounded
by confident believers, all eager to have him share their sacred
visions and profound revelations, where the atmosphere is replete
with miracles, and every chair and table may at any instant be
transformed into a proof of the supernatural, is it strange that
he soon becomes affected by the contagion of belief that surrounds
him? He succumbs to its influence imperceptibly and hesitatingly at
first, and perhaps yet restorable to his former modes of thought by
the fresh air of another and more steadfast mental intercourse, but
more and more certainly and ardently convinced the longer he breathes
the séance atmosphere. No form of contagion is so insidious in its
onset, so difficult to check in its advance, so certain to leave
germs that may at any moment reveal their pernicious power, as a
mental contagion--the contagion of fear, of panic, of fanaticism, of
lawlessness, of superstition, of error. The story of the witchcraft
persecutions, were there no similar records to deface the pages of
history, would suffice as a standing illustration of the overwhelming
power of psychic contagion. To illustrate with any completeness its
importance in the production of deception or in the dissemination
of error, would carry us beyond the proper limits of the present
discussion. It enters at every stage of the process and in every
type of illusion. Although it has least effect when deception is
carried on by external arrangements, by skilful counterfeits of
logical inferences, yet even then it enters into the distinction
between a critical, skeptical, and irresponsive body of spectators,
and one that is sympathetic, acquiescent, and cordial; it renders it
easier to effect bold and striking impressions with a larger audience
than with a smaller one; its power is greatest, however, where the
subjective factor in deception is greatest, more particularly in such
forms of deception as have been last described.
In brief, we must add to the many factors which contribute to
deception the recognized lowering of critical ability, of the power
of accurate observation, indeed of rationality, which merely being
one of a crowd induces. The conjurer finds it easier to perform to
large audiences because, among other reasons, it is easier to arouse
their admiration and sympathy, easier to make them forget themselves
and enter into the uncritical spirit of wonderland. It would seem
that in some respects the critical tone of an assembly, like the
strength of a chain, is that of its weakest member. "The mental
quality of the individuals in a crowd," says M. Le Bon, "is without
importance. From the moment that they are in the crowd the ignorant
and the learned are equally incapable of observation."