The condition thus superinduced is not hypnotism, or artificial

somnambulism, properly so called. 'The electro-biological' condition

may be regarded as simply a kind of reverie or abstraction artificially

produced. But Braid discovered that a more perfect control might be

obtained over 'subjects,' and a condition resembling that of the

sleepwalker artificially induced, by modifying the method of fixing the

attention. Instead of directing the subject's gaze upon a bright object

placed at a considerable distance from the eyes, so that no effect

was required to concentrate vision upon it, he placed a bright object

somewhat above and in front of the eyes at so short a distance that

the convergence of their axes upon it was accompanied with sufficient

effect to produce even a slight amount of pain. The condition to which

the 'subjects' of this new method were reduced was markedly different

from the ordinary 'electro-biological' state. Thus on one occasion, in

the presence of 800 persons, fourteen men were experimented upon. 'All

began the experiment at the same time; the former with their eyes fixed

upon a projecting cork, placed securely on their foreheads; the others

at their own will gazed steadily at certain points in the direction of

the audience. In the course of ten minutes the eyelids of these ten

persons had involuntarily closed. With some, consciousness remained;

others were in catalepsy, and entirely insensible to being stuck with

needles; and others on awakening knew absolutely nothing of what had

taken place during their sleep.' The other four simply passed into

the ordinary condition of electro-biologised 'subjects,' retaining

the recollection of all that happened to them while in the state of

artificial abstraction or reverie.

Dr. Carpenter, in that most interesting work of his, 'Mental

Physiology,' thus describes the state of hypnotism:--'The process is

of the same kind as that employed for the induction of the "biological"

state; the only difference lying in the _greater intensity_ of the

gaze, and in the more complete concentration of will upon the direction

of the eyes, which the nearer approximation of the object requires

for the maintenance of the convergence. In hypnotism, as in ordinary

somnambulism, no remembrance whatever is preserved in the waking state

of anything that may have occurred during its continuance; although the

previous train of thought may be taken up and continued uninterruptedly

on the next occasion that the hypnotism is induced. And when the mind

is not excited to activity by the stimulus of external impressions, the

hypnotised subject appears to be profoundly asleep; a state of complete

torpor, in fact, being usually the first result of the process, and

any subsequent manifestation of activity being procurable only by

the prompting of the operator. The hypnotised subject, too, rarely

opens his eyes; his bodily movements are usually slow; his mental

operations require a considerable time in their performance; and there

is altogether an appearance of heaviness about him, which contrasts

strongly with the comparatively wide-awake air of him who has not

passed beyond the ordinary "biological" state.'

We must note, however, in passing, that the condition of complete

hypnotism had been obtained in several instances by some of the

earlier experimenters in animal magnetism. One remarkable instance

was communicated to the surgical section of the French Academy on

April 16, 1829, by Jules Cloquet. Two meetings were entirely devoted

to its investigation. The following account presents all the chief

points of the case, surgical details being entirely omitted, however,

as not necessary for our present purpose:--A lady, aged sixty-four,

consulted M. Cloquet on April 8, 1829, on account of an ulcerated

cancer of the right breast which had continued, gradually growing

worse, during several years. M. Chapelain, the physician attending the

lady, had 'magnetised' her for some months, producing no remedial

effects, but only a very profound sleep or torpor, during which all

sensibility seemed to be annihilated, while the ideas retained all

their clearness. He proposed to M. Cloquet to operate upon her while

she was in this state of torpor, and, the latter, considering the

operation the only means of saving her life, consented. The two doctors

do not appear to have been troubled by any scruples as to their right

thus to conduct an operation to which, when in her normal condition,

the patient strenuously objected. It sufficed for them that when

they had put her to sleep artificially, she could be persuaded to

submit to it. On the appointed day M. Cloquet found the patient ready

'dressed and seated in an elbow-chair, in the attitude of a person

enjoying a quiet natural sleep.' In reality, however, she was in the

somnambulistic state, and talked calmly of the operation. During the

whole time that the operation lasted--from ten to twelve minutes--she

continued to converse quietly with M. Cloquet, 'and did not exhibit

the slightest sign of sensibility. There was no motion of the limbs

or of the features, no change in the respiration nor in the voice; no

motions even in the pulse. The patient continued in the same state

of automatic indifference and impassibility in which she had been

some minutes before the operation.' For forty-eight hours after this,

the patient remained in the somnambulistic state, showing no sign of

pain during the subsequent dressing of the wound. When awakened from

this prolonged sleep she had no recollection of what had passed in

the interval; 'but on being informed of the operation, and seeing her

children around her, she experienced a very lively emotion which the

"magnetiser" checked by immediately setting her asleep.' Certainly none

of the hypnotised 'subjects' of Mr. Braid's experiments showed more

complete abstraction from their normal condition than this lady; and

other cases cited in Bertrand's work, 'Le Magnetisme Animal en France'

(1826), are almost equally remarkable. As it does not appear that in

any of these cases Braid's method of producing hypnotism by causing

the eyes, or rather their optical axes, to be converged upon a point,

was adopted, we must conclude that this part of the method is not

absolutely essential to success. Indeed, the circumstance that in some

of Braid's public experiments numbers of the audience became hypnotised

without his knowledge, shows that the more susceptible 'subjects' do

not require to contemplate a point near and slightly above the eyes,

but may be put into the true hypnotic state by methods which, with the

less susceptible, produce only the electro-biological condition.

It will be well, however, to inquire somewhat carefully into this

point. My present object, I would note, is not merely to indicate the

remarkable nature of the phenomena of hypnotism, but to consider these

phenomena with direct reference to their probable cause. It may not be

possible to obtain a satisfactory explanation of them. But it is better

to view them as phenomena to be accounted for than merely as surprising

but utterly inexplicable circumstances.

Now we have fortunately the means of determining the effect of the

physical relations involved in these experiments, apart from those

which are chiefly due to imagination. For animals can be hypnotised,

and the conditions necessary for this effect to be fully produced have

been ascertained.

The most familiar experiment of this sort is sometimes known as

Kircher's. Let the feet of a hen be tied together (though this is not

necessary in all cases), and the hen placed on a level surface. Then if

the body of the hen is gently pressed down, the head extended with the

beak pointing downwards, touching the surface on which the hen stands,

and a chalk mark is drawn slowly along the surface, from the tip of the

beak in a line extending directly from the bird's eye, it is found that

the hen will remain for a considerable time perfectly still, though

left quite free to move. She is, in fact, hypnotised.

We have now to inquire what parts of the process just described are

effective in producing the hypnotic condition, or whether all are

essential to success in the experiment.

In the first place, the fastening of the feet may be dispensed

with. But it has its influence, and makes the experiment easier. An

explanation, or rather an illustration, of its effect is afforded by a

singular and interesting experiment devised by Lewissohn of Berlin:--If

a frog is placed on its back, it immediately, when the hand which had

held it is removed, turns over and escapes. But if the two fore-legs

are tied with a string, the frog, when placed on its back, breathes

heavily but is otherwise quite motionless, and does not make the least

attempt to escape, even when the experimenter tries to move it. 'It

is as though,' say Czermak, describing the experiment as performed

by himself, 'its small amount of reasoning power had been charmed

away, or else that it slept with open eyes. Now I press upon the

cutaneous nerves of the frog, while I loosen and remove the threads

on the fore-legs. Still the animal remains motionless upon its back,

in consequence of some remaining after-effect; at last, however, it

returns to itself, turns over, and quickly escapes.'

Thus far the idea suggested is that the animal is so affected by the

cutaneous pressure as to suppose itself tied and therefore unable

to move. In other words, this experiment suggests that imagination

acts on animals as on men, only in a different degree. I may cite

here a curious case which I once noticed and have never been able to

understand, though it seems to suggest the influence of imagination on

an animal one would hardly suspect of being at all under the influence

of any but purely physical influences. Hearing a noise as of a cat

leaping down from a pantry window which looked out on an enclosed yard,

I went directly into the yard, and there saw a strange cat running

off with a fish she had stolen. She was at the moment leaping on to

a bin, from the top of which, by another very easy leap, she could

get on to the wall enclosing the yard, and so escape. With the idea

rather of frightening her than of hurting her (does one missile out of

a hundred flung at cats ever hit them?) I threw at the thief a small

piece of wood which I had in my hand at the moment. It struck the

wall above her just as she was going to leap to the top of the wall,

and it fell, without touching her, between her and the wall. To my

surprise, she stood perfectly still, looking at the piece of wood; her

mouth, from which the fish had fallen, remaining open, and her whole

attitude expressing stupid wonder. I make no doubt I could have taken

her prisoner, or struck her heavily, if I had wished, for she made no

effort to escape, until, with a parlour broom which stood by, I pushed

her along the top of the bin towards the wall, when she seemed suddenly

to arouse herself, and leaping to the top of the wall she made off.

My wife witnessed the last scene of this curious little comedy. In

fact, it was chiefly, perhaps, because she pleaded for mercy on 'the

poor thing' that the soft end of the broom alone came into operation;

for, though not altogether agreeing with the Count of Rousillon that

anything can be endured before a cat, I did not at the moment regard

that particular cat with special favour.

The extension of the neck and depression of the head, in the experiment

with the hen, have no special significance, for Czermak has been able

to produce the same phenomena of hypnotism without them, and has failed

to produce the hypnotic effect on pigeons when attending to this point,

and in other respects proceeding as nearly as possible in the same

way as with hens. 'With the hens,' he says, 'I often hung a piece of

twine, or a small piece of wood, directly over their crests, so that

the end fell before their eyes. The hens not only remained perfectly

motionless, but closed their eyes, and slept with their heads sinking

until they came in contact with the table. Before falling asleep,

the hens' heads can be either pressed down or raised up, and they

will remain in this position as if they were pieces of wax. That is,

however, a symptom of a cataleptic condition, such as is seen in human

beings, under certain pathological conditions of the nervous system.'

On the other hand, repeated experiments convinced Czermak that the

pressure on the animal as it is held is of primary importance. It

is frequently the case, he says, that a hen, which for a minute has

been in a motionless state, caused by simply extending the neck and

depressing the head, awakes and flies away, but on being caught again

immediately, she can be placed once more in the condition of lethargy,

if we place the animal in a squatting position, and overcome with

gentle force the resistance of the muscles, by firmly placing the hand

upon its back. During the slow and measured suppression, one often

perceives an extremely remarkable position of the head and neck, which

are left entirely free. The head remains as if held by an invisible

hand in its proper place, the neck being stretched out of proportion,

while the body by degrees is pushed downwards. If the animal is thus

left entirely free, it remains for a minute or so in this peculiar

condition with wide-open staring eyes. 'Here,' as Czermak remarks,

'the actual circumstances are only the effect of the emotion which the

nerves of the skin excite, and the gentle force which overcomes the

animal's resistance. Certainly the creature a short time before had

been in a condition of immobility, and might have retained some special

inclination to fall back into the same, although the awakening, flight,

and recapture, together with the refreshment given to the nervous

system, are intermediate circumstances.' Similar experiments are best

made upon small birds. Now, it is well known to bird fanciers that

goldfinches, canary-birds, &c. can be made to remain motionless for

some time by simply holding them firmly for a moment and then letting

them go. 'Here, in my hand,' said Czermak, in his lecture, 'is a timid

bird, just brought from market. If I place it on its back, and hold its

head with my left hand, keeping it still for a few seconds, it will

lie perfectly motionless after I have removed my hands, as if charmed,

breathing heavily, and without making any attempt to change its

position or to fly away.' ('Two of the birds,' says the report, 'were

treated in this manner without effect; but the third, a siskin, fell

into a sleeping condition, and remained completely immovable on its

back, until pushed with a glass tube, when it awoke and flew actively

around the room.')

Also when a bird is in a sitting position, and the head is pressed

slightly back, the bird falls into a sleeping condition, even though

the eyes had been open. 'I have often noticed,' says Czermak, 'that the

birds under these circumstances close their eyes for a few minutes or

even a quarter of an hour, and are more or less fast asleep.'

Lastly, as to the chalk-line in Kircher's experiment. Czermak found,

as already said, that pigeons do not become motionless, as happens to

hens, if merely held firmly in the hand, and their heads and necks

pressed gently on the table. Nor can they be hypnotised like small

birds in the experiment last mentioned. 'That is,' he says, 'I held

them with a thumb placed on each side of the head, which I bent over

a little, while the other hand held the body gently pressed down upon

the table; but even this treatment, which has such an effect on little

birds, did not seem to succeed at first with the pigeons: almost always

they flew away as soon as I liberated them and entirely removed my

hands.' But he presently noticed that the short time during which the

pigeons remained quiet lengthened considerably when the finger only of

the hand which held the head was removed. Removing the hand holding

the body made no difference, but retaining the other hand near the

bird's head, the hand made all the difference in the world. Pursuing

the line of research thus indicated, Czermak found to his astonishment

that the fixing of the pigeon's look on the finger placed before its

eyes was the secret of the matter. In order to determine the question

still more clearly, he tried the experiment on a pigeon which he had

clasped firmly by the body in his left hand, but whose neck and head

were perfectly free. 'I held one finger of my right hand steadily

before the top of its beak,--and what did I see? The first pigeon with

which I made this attempt remained rigid and motionless, as if bound,

for several minutes, before the outstretched forefinger of my right

hand! Yes, I could take my left hand, with which I had held the bird,

and again touch the pigeon without waking it up; the animal remained in

the same position while I held my outstretched finger still pointing

towards the beak.' 'The lecturer,' says the report, 'demonstrated

this experiment in the most successful manner with a pigeon which was

brought to him.'

Yet it is to be noticed that among animals as among men, different

degrees of subjectivity exist. 'Individual inward relations,' says

Czermak, 'as well as outward conditions, must necessarily exercise some

disturbing influence, whether the animal will give itself up to the

requisite exertions of certain parts of its brain with more or less

inclination or otherwise. We often see, for example, that a pigeon

endeavours to escape from confinement by a quick turning of its head

from side to side. In following these singular and characteristic

movements of the head and neck, with the finger held before the bird,

one either gains his point, or else makes the pigeon so perplexed and

excited that it at last becomes quiet, so that, if it is held firmly

by the body and head, it can be forced gently down upon the table.

As Schopenhauer says of sleeping, "The brain must bite." I will also

mention here, by the way, that a tame parrot, which I have in my house,

can be placed in this sleepy condition by simply holding the finger

steadily before the top of its beak.'

I may cite here a singular illustration of the effect of perplexity

in the case of a creature in all other respects much more naturally

circumstanced than the hens, pigeons, and small birds of Czermak's

experiments. In the spring of 1859, when I was an undergraduate at

Cambridge, I and a friend of mine were in canoes on the part of the

Cam which flows through the College grounds. Here there are many ducks

and a few swans. It occurred to us, not, I fear, from any special

scientific spirit, but as a matter of curiosity, to inquire whether it

was possible to pass over a duck in a canoe. Of course on the approach

of either canoe a duck would try to get out of the way on one side or

the other; but on the course of the canoe being rapidly changed, the

duck would have to change his course. Then the canoe's course would

again be changed, so as to compel the duck to try the other side. The

canoe drawing all the time nearer, and her changes of course being made

very lightly and in quicker and quicker alternation as she approached,

the duck would generally get bewildered, and finally would allow the

canoe to pass over him, gently pressing him under water in its course.

The process, in fact, was a sort of mild keelhauling. The absolute

rigidity of body and the dull stupid stare with which some of the

ducks met their fate seems to me (_now_: I was not in 1859 familiar

with the phenomena of hypnotism) to suggest that the effect was to be

explained as Czermak explains the hypnotism of the pigeons on which he

experimented.

We shall be better able now to understand the phenomena of artificial

somnambulism in the case of human beings. If the circumstances observed

by Kircher, Czermak, Lewissohn, and others, suggest, as I think they

do, that animal hypnotism is a form of the phenomenon sometimes called

fascination, we may be led to regard the possibility of artificial

somnambulism in men as a survival of a property playing in all

probability an important and valuable part in the economy of animal

life. It is in this direction, at present, that the evidence seems to

tend.

The most remarkable circumstance about the completely hypnotised

subject is the seemingly complete control of the will of the 'subject'

and even of his opinions. Even the mere suggestions of the operator,

not expressed verbally or by signs, but by movements imparted to the

body of the subject, are at once responded to, as though, to use Dr.

Garth Wilkinson's expression, the _whole man_ were given to each

perception. Thus, 'if the hand be placed,' says Dr. Carpenter, 'upon

the top of the head, the somnambulist will frequently, of his own

accord, draw up his body to its fullest height, and throw his head

slightly back; his countenance then assumes an expression of the

most lofty pride, and his whole mind is obviously possessed by that

feeling. When the first action does not of itself call forth the rest,

it is sufficient for the operator to straighten the legs and spine,

and to throw the head somewhat back, to arouse that feeling and the

corresponding expression to its fullest intensity. During the most

complete domination of this emotion, let the head be bent forward,

and the body and limbs gently flexed; and the most profound humility

then instantaneously takes its place.' Of course in some cases we may

well believe that the expressions thus described by Dr. Carpenter have

been simulated by the subject. But there can be no reason to doubt

the reality of the operator's control in many cases. Dr. Carpenter

says that he has not only been an eye-witness of them on various

occasions, but that he places full reliance on the testimony of an

intelligent friend, who submitted himself to Mr. Braid's manipulations,

but retained sufficient self-consciousness and voluntary power to

endeavour to exercise some resistance to their influence at the time,

and subsequently to retrace his course of thought and feeling. 'This

gentleman declares,' says Dr. Carpenter, 'that, although accustomed

to the study of character and to self-observation, he could not

have conceived that the whole mental state should have undergone so

instantaneous and complete a metamorphosis, as he remembers it to

have done, when his head and body were bent forward in the attitude

of humility, after having been drawn to their full height in that of

self-esteem.'

A most graphic description of the phenomena of hypnotism is given by

Dr. Garth Wilkinson:--'The preliminary state is that of abstraction,

produced by fixed gaze upon some unexciting and empty thing (for

poverty of object engenders abstraction), and this abstraction is the

logical premiss of what follows. Abstraction tends to become more and

more abstract, narrower and narrower; it tends to unity and afterwards

to nullity. There, then, the patient is, at the summit of attention,

with no object left, a mere statue of attention, a listening, expectant

life; a perfectly undistracted faculty, dreaming of a lessening and

lessening mathematical point: the end of his mind sharpened away to

nothing. What happens? Any sensation that appeals is met by this

brilliant attention, and receives its diamond glare; being perceived

with a force of leisure of which our distracted life affords only the

rudiments. External influences are sensated, sympathised with, to an

extraordinary degree; harmonious music sways the body into graces the

most affecting; discords jars it, as though they would tear it limb

from limb. Cold and heat are perceived with similar exaltation; so

also smells and touches. In short, _the whole man appears to be given

to each perception_. The body trembles like down with the wafts of the

atmosphere; the world plays upon it as upon a spiritual instrument

finely attuned.'

This state, which may be called the natural hypnotic state, may be

artificially modified. 'The power of suggestion over the patient,' says

Dr. Garth Wilkinson, 'is excessive. If you say, "What animal is it?"

the patient will tell you it is a lamb, or a rabbit, or any other.

"Does he see it?" "Yes." "What animal is it _now_?" putting depth and

gloom into the tone of _now_, and thereby suggesting a difference.

"Oh!" with a shudder, "it is a wolf!" "What colour is it?" still

glooming the phrase. "Black." "What colour is it now?" giving the _now_

a cheerful air. "Oh! a beautiful blue!" (rather an unusual colour for a

wolf, I would suggest), spoken with the utmost delight (and no wonder!

especially if the hypnotic subject were a naturalist). And so you lead

the subject through any dreams you please, by variations of questions

and of inflections of the voice! and _he sees and feels all as real_.'

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