kind of dreams.[11] He proves this by the large number of coincidental
hallucinations which occurred in sleepy circumstances. One man went to bed
early, and woke up early; another was 'roused from sleep;' two ladies were
sitting up in bed, giving their babies nourishment; a man was reading a
newspaper on a sofa; a lady was lying awake at seven in the morning; and
there are eight other English cases of people 'awake' in bed during an
hallucination. Now, in Dr. Parish's opinion, we must argue that they were
_not_ awake, or not much; so the hallucinations were mere dreams.
Dreams are so numerous that coincidences in dreams can be got rid of as
pure flukes. People may say, to be sure, 'I am used to dreams, and don't
regard them; _this_ was something solitary in my experience.' But we must
not mind what people say.
Yet I fear we must mind what they say. At least, we must remember that
sleeping dreams are, of all things, most easily forgotten; while a
full-bodied hallucination, when we, at least, believe ourselves awake,
seems to us on a perfectly different plane of impressiveness, and
(_experto crede_) is really very difficult to forget. Herr Parish cannot
be allowed, therefore, to use the regular eighteenth-century argument--
'All dreams!' For the two sorts of dreams, in sleep and in apparent
wakefulness, seem, to the subject, to differ in _kind_. And they really
do differ in kind. It is the essence of the every night dream that we are
unconscious of our actual surroundings and conscious of a fantastic
environment. It is the essence of wideawakeness to be conscious of our
actual surroundings. In the ordinary dream, nothing actual competes with
its visions. When we are conscious of our surroundings, everything actual
does compete with any hallucination. Therefore, an hallucination which,
when we are conscious of our material environment, does compete with it in
reality, is different _in kind_ from an ordinary dream. Science gains
nothing by arbitrarily declaring that two experiences so radically
different are identical. Anybody would see this if he were not arguing
under a dominant idea.
Herr Parish next contends that people who see pictures in crystal balls,
and so on, are not so wide awake as to be in their normal consciousness.
There is 'dissociation' (practically drowsiness), even if only a
little. Herr Moll also speaks of crystal-gazing pictures as 'hypnotic
phenomena.'[12] Possibly neither of these learned men has ever seen a
person attempt crystal-gazing. Herr Parish never asserts any such personal
experience as the basis of his opinion about the non-normal state of the
gazer. He reaches this conclusion from an anecdote reported, as a not
unfamiliar phenomenon, by a friend of Miss X. But the phenomenon occurred
when Miss X. was not crystal-gazing at all! She was looking out of a
window in a brown study. This is a noble example of logic. Some one says
that Miss X. was not in her normal consciousness on a certain occasion
when she was _not_ crystal-gazing, and that this condition is familiar to
the observer. Therefore, argues Herr Parish, nobody is in his normal
consciousness when he is crystal-gazing.
In vain may 'so good an observer as Miss X. think herself fully awake' (as
she does think herself) when crystal-gazing, because once, when she
happened to have 'her eyes _fixed on the window_,' her expression was
'_associated_' by a friend 'with _something uncanny_,' and she afterwards
spoke '_in a dreamy, far-away tone_' (p. 297). Miss X., though extremely
'wide awake,' may have looked dreamily at a window, and may have seen
mountains and marvels. But the point is that she was not voluntarily
gazing at a crystal for amusement or experiment--perhaps trying to see how
a microscope affected the pictures--or to divert a friend.
I appeal to the shades of Aristotle and Bacon against scientific logic in
the hands of Herr Parish. Here is his syllogism:
A. is occasionally dreamy when _not_ crystal-gazing.
A. is human.
Therefore every human being, when crystal-gazing, is more or less
asleep.
He infers a general affirmative from a single affirmative which happens
not to be to the point. It is exactly as if Herr Parish argued:
Mrs. B. spends hours in shopping.
Mrs. B. is human.
Therefore every human being is always late for dinner.
Miss X., I think, uplifted her voice in some review, and maintained that,
when crystal-gazing, she was quite in her normal state, _dans son
assiette_.
Yet Herr Parish would probably say to any crystal-gazer who argued thus,
'Oh, no; pardon me, you were _not_ wholly awake--you were a-dream. I know
better than you.' But, as he has not seen crystal-gazers, while I have,
many scores of times, I prefer my own opinion. And so, as this assertion
about the percipient's being 'dissociated,' or asleep, or not awake, is
certainly untrue of all crystal-gazers in my considerable experience, I
cannot accept it on the authority of Herr Parish, who makes no claim to
any personal experience at all.
As to crystal-gazing, when the gazer is talking, laughing, chatting,
making experiments in turning the ball, changing the light, using prisms
and magnifying-glasses, dropping matches into the water-jug, and so on,
how can we possibly say that 'it is impossible to distinguish between
waking hallucinations and those of sleep' (p. 300)? If so, it is
impossible to distinguish between sleeping and waking altogether. We are
all like the dormouse! Herr Parish is reasoning here _a priori_,
without any personal knowledge of the facts; and, above all, he is under
the 'dominant idea' of his own theory--that of _dissociation_.
Herr Parish next crushes telepathy by an argument which--like one of the
reasons why the bells were not rung for Queen Elizabeth, namely, that
there were no bells to ring--might have come first, and alone. We are
told (in italics--very impressive to the popular mind): _'No matter how
great the number of coincidences, they afford not even the shadow of a
proof for telepathy'_ (p. 301). What, not even if all hallucinations, or
ninety-nine per cent., coincided with the death of the person seen? In
heaven's name, why not? Why, because the 'weightiest' cause of all has
been omitted from our calculations, namely, our good old friend, _the
association of ideas_ (p. 302). Our side cannot prove the _absence_
(italics) of _the association of ideas_. Certainly we cannot; but ideas in
endless millions are being associated all day long. A hundred thousand
different, unnoticed associations may bring Jones to my mind, or Brown.
But I don't therefore see Brown, or Jones, who is not there. Still less do
I see Dr. Parish, or Nebuchadnezzar, or a monkey, or a salmon, or a golf
ball, or Arthur's Seat (all of which may be brought to my mind by
association of ideas), when they are not present.
Suppose, then, that once in my life I see the absent Jones, who dies in
that hour (or within twelve hours). I am puzzled. Why did Association
choose that day, of all days in my life, for her solitary freak? And,
if this choice of freaks by Association occurs among other people, say two
hundred times more often than chance allows, the freak begins to suggest
that it may have a cause.
Not even the circumstance cited by Herr Parish, that a drowsy tailor,
'sewing on in a dream,' poor fellow, saw a client in his shop while the
client was dying, solves the problem. The tailor is not said even once to
have seen a customer who was _not_ dying; yet he writes, 'I was accustomed
to work all night frequently.' The tailor thinks he was asleep, because he
had been making irregular stitches, and perhaps he was. But, out of
all his vigils and all his customers, association only formed _one_
hallucination, and that was of a dying client whom he supposed to be
perfectly well. Why on earth is association so fond of dying people--
granting the statistics, which are 'another story'? The explanation
explains nothing. Herr Parish only moves the difficulty back a step, and,
as we cannot live without association of ideas, they are taken for granted
by our side. Association of ideas does not cause hallucinations, as Mrs.
Sidgwick remarks, though it may determine their contents.
The difficult theme of coincidental collective hallucinations, as when two
or more people at once have, or profess to have, the same false perception
of a person who is really absent and dying, is next disposed of by Herr
Parish. The same _points de repère_, the same sound, or flicker of light,
or arrangement of shadow, may beget the same or a similar false perception
in two or more people at once. Thus two girls, in different rooms, are
looking out on different parts of the hall in their house. 'Both heard, at
the same time, an [objective?] noise' (p. 313). Then, says Herr Parish,
'_the one sister saw her father cross the hall_ after entering; the other
saw the dog (the usual companion of his walks) run past her door.' Father
and dog had not left the dining-room. Herr Parish decides that the same
_point de repère_ (the apparent noise of a key in the lock of the front
door) 'acted by way of suggestion on both sisters,' producing, however,
different hallucinations, 'in virtue of the difference of the connected
associations.' One girl associated the sound with her honoured sire, the
other with his faithful hound; so one saw a dog, and the other saw an
elderly gentleman. Now, first, if so, this should _always_ be occurring,
for we all have different associations of ideas. Thus, we are in a haunted
house; there is a noise of a rattling window; I associate it with a
burglar, Brown with a milkman, Miss Jones with a lady in green, Miss Smith
with a knight in armour. That collection of phantasms should then be
simultaneously on view, like the dog and old gentleman; all our reports
should vary. But this does not occur. Most unluckily for Herr Parish, he
illustrates his theory by telling a story which happens not to be
correctly reported. At first I thought that a fallacy of memory, or an
optical delusion, had betrayed him again, as in his legend of the
waistcoat. But I am now inclined to believe that what really occurred was
this: Herr Parish brought out his book in German, before the Report of the
Census of Hallucinations was published. In his German edition he probably
quoted a story which precisely suited his theory of the origin of
collective hallucinations. This anecdote he had found in Prof. Sidgwick's
Presidential Address of July 1890.[13] As stated by Prof. Sidgwick, the
case just fitted Herr Parish, who refers to it on p. 190, and again on
p. 314. He gives no reference, but his version reads like a traditional
variant of Prof. Sidgwick's. Now Prof. Sidgwick's version was erroneous,
as is proved by the elaborate account of the case in the Report of the
Census, which Herr Parish had before him, but neglected when he prepared
his English edition. The story was wrong, alas! in the very point where,
for Herr Parish's purpose, it ought to have been right. The hallucination
is believed not to have been collective, yet Herr Parish uses it to
explain collective hallucinations. Doubtless he overlooked the accurate
version in the Report.[14]
The facts, as there reported, were not what he narrates, but as follows:
Miss C.E. was in the breakfast-room, about 6:30 P.M., in January 1883, and
supposed her father to be taking a walk with his dog. She heard noises,
which may have had any other cause, but which she took to be the sounds
of a key in the door lock, a stick tapping the tiles of the hall, and the
patter of the dog's feet on the tiles. She then saw the dog pass the door.
Miss C.E. next entered the hall, where she found nobody; but in the pantry
she met her sisters--Miss E., Miss H.G.E.--and a working-woman. Miss E.
and the working-woman had been in the hall, and there had heard the sound,
which they, like Miss C.E., took for that of a key in the lock. They were
breaking a little household rule in the hall, so they 'ran straightway
into the pantry, meeting Miss H.G.E. on the way.' Miss C.E. and Miss E.
and the working-woman all heard the noise as of a key in the lock, but
nobody is said to have 'seen the father cross the hall' (as Herr Parish
asserts). 'Miss H.G.E. was of opinion that Miss E. (now dead) saw
_nothing_, and Miss C.E. was inclined to agree with her.' Miss E. and the
work-woman (now dead) were 'emphatic as to the father having entered the
house;' but this the two only _inferred_ from hearing the noise, after
which they fled to the pantry. Now, granting that some other noise was
mistaken for that of the key in the lock, we have here, _not_ (as Herr
Parish declares) a _collective_ yet discrepant hallucination--the
discrepancy being caused 'by the difference of connected associations'--
but a _solitary_ hallucination. Herr Parish, however, inadvertently
converts a solitary into a collective hallucination, and then uses the
example to explain collective hallucinations in general. He asserts
that Miss E. 'saw her father cross the hall.' Miss E.'s sisters think that
she saw no such matter. Now, suppose that Mr. E. had died at the moment,
and that the case was claimed on our part as a 'collective coincidental
hallucination,' How righteously Herr Parish might exclaim that all the
evidence was against its being collective! The sound in the lock, heard by
three persons, would be, and probably was, another noise misinterpreted.
And, in any case, there is no evidence for its having produced _two_
hallucinations; the evidence is in exactly the opposite direction.
Here, then, Herr Parish, with the printed story under his eyes, once more
illustrates want of attention. In one way his errors improve his case. 'If
I, a grave man of science, go on telling distorted legends out of my own
head, while the facts are plain in print before me,' Herr Parish
may reason, 'how much more are the popular tales about coincidental
hallucinations likely to be distorted?' It is really a very strong
argument, but not exactly the argument which Herr Parish conceives
himself to be presenting.[15]
This unlucky inexactitude is chronic, as we have shown, in Herr Parish's
work, and is probably to be explained by inattention to facts, by
'expectation' of suitable facts, and by 'anxiety' to prove a theory. He
explains the similar or identical reports of witnesses to a collective
hallucination by 'the case with which such appearances adapt themselves
in recollection' (p. 313), especially, of course, after lapse of time. And
then he unconsciously illustrates his case by the case with which
printed facts under his very eyes adapt themselves, quite erroneously, to
his own memory and personal bias as he copies them on to his paper.
Finally he argues that even if collective hallucinations are also 'with
comparative frequency' coincidental, that is to be explained thus:
'The rarity and the degree of interest compelled by it' (by such an
hallucination) 'will naturally tend to connect itself with some other
prominent event; and, conversely, the occurrence of such an event as the
death or mortal danger of a friend is most calculated to produce memory
illusions of this kind.'
In the second case, the excitement caused by the death of a friend is
likely, it seems, to make two or more sane people say, and _believe,_
that they saw him somewhere else, when he was really dying. The only
evidence for this fact is that such illusions occasionally occur, _not_
collectively, in some lunatic asylums. 'It is not, however, a form of
mnemonic error often observed among the insane.' 'Kraepelin gives two
cases.' 'The process occurs sporadically in certain sane people, under
certain exciting conditions.' No examples are given! What is rare as an
_individual_ folly among lunatics, is supposed by Herr Parish to explain
the theoretically 'false memory' whereby sane people persuade themselves
that they had an hallucination, and persuade others that they were told
of it, when no such thing occurred.
To return to our old example. Jones tells me that he has just seen his
aunt, whom he knows to be in Timbuctoo. News comes that the lady died when
Jones beheld her in his smoking-room. 'Oh, nonsense,' Herr Parish would
argue, 'you, Jones, saw nothing of the kind, nor did you tell Mr. Lang,
who, I am sorry to find, agrees with you. What happened was _this_: When
the awful news came to-day of your aunt's death, you were naturally,
and even creditably, excited, especially as the poor lady was killed by
being pegged down on an ant-heap. This excitement, rather praiseworthy
than otherwise, made you _believe_ you had seen your aunt, and _believe_
you had told Mr. Lang. He also is a most excitable person, though I
admit he never saw your dear aunt in his life. He, therefore (by virtue of
his excitement), now _believes_ you told him about seeing your unhappy
kinswoman. This kind of false memory is very common. Two cases are
recorded by Kraepelin, among the insane. Surely you quite understand my
reasoning?'
I quite understand it, but I don't see how it comes to seem good logic to
Herr Parish.
The other theory is funnier still. Jones never had an hallucination
before. 'The rarity and the degree of interest compelled by it' made Jones
'connect it with some other prominent event,' say, the death of his aunt,
which, really, occurred, say, nine months afterwards. But this is a mere
case of _evidence_, which it is the affair of the S.P.R. to criticise.
Herr Parish is in the happy position called in American speculative
circles 'a straddle.' If a man has an hallucination when alone, he was in
circumstances conducive to the sleeping state. So the hallucination is
probably a dream. But, if the seer was in company, who all had the same
hallucination, then they all had the same _points de repère_, and the same
adaptive memories. So Herr Parish kills with both barrels.
If anything extraneous could encourage a belief in coincidental and
veridical hallucinations, it would be these 'Oppositions of Science.' If a
learned and fair opponent can find no better proofs than logic and
(unconscious) perversions of facts like the logic and the statements of
Herr Parish, the case for telepathic hallucinations may seem strong
indeed. But we must grant him the existence of the adaptive and mythopoeic
powers of memory, which he asserts, and also illustrates. I grant, too,
that a census of 17,000 inquiries may only have 'skimmed the cream off'
(p. 87). Another dip of the net, bringing up 17,000 fresh answers, might
alter the whole aspect of the case, one way or the other. Moreover, we
cannot get scientific evidence in this way of inquiry. If the public were
interested in the question, and understood its nature, and if everybody
who had an hallucination at once recorded it in black and white, duly
attested on oath before a magistrate, by persons to whom he reported,
before the coincidence was known, and if all such records, coincidental or
not, were kept in the British Museum for fifty years, then an examination
of them might teach us something. But all this is quite impossible.
We may form a belief, on this point of veridical hallucinations, for
ourselves, but beyond that it is impossible to advance. Still, Science
might read her brief!
[Footnote 1: Walter Scott.]
[Footnote 2: Parish, p. 278.]
[Footnote 3: Ibid. pp. 282, 283.]
[Footnote 4: P. 287, Mr. Sims, _Proceedings_, x. 230.]
[Footnote 5: Parish pp. 288, 289.]
[Footnote 6: _Report_, p. 68.]
[Footnote 7: P. 274, note 1.]
[Footnote 8: Parish, p. 290.]
[Footnote 9: _Report_, p. 297.]
[Footnote 10: Parish, p. 290.]
[Footnote 11: Pp. 291, 292.]
[Footnote 12: Moll, _Hypnotism_, p. 1.]
[Footnote 13 _Proceedings_, vol. vi. p. 433.]
[Footnote 14: Parish, p. 313.]
[Footnote 15: Compare _Report_, pp. 181-83, with Parish, pp. 190 and
313, 314.]
APPENDIX B
THE POLTERGEIST AND HIS EXPLAINERS.
In the chapter on 'Fetishism and Spiritualism' it was suggested that the
movements of inanimate objects, apparently without contact, may have been
one of the causes leading to fetishism, to the opinion that a spirit may
inhabit a stick, stone, or what not. We added that, whether such movements
were caused by trickery or not, was inessential as long as the savage did
not discover the imposture.
The evidence for the genuine supernormal character of such phenomena was
not discussed, that we might preserve the continuity of the general
argument. The history of such phenomena is too long for statement here.
The same reports are found 'from China to Peru,' from Eskimo to the Cape,
from Egyptian magical papyri to yesterday's provincial newspaper.[1]
About 1850-1870 phenomena, which had previously been reported as of
sporadic and spontaneous occurrence, were domesticated and organised by
Mediums, generally American. These were imitators of the enigmatic David
Dunglas Home, who was certainly a most oddly gifted man, or a most
successful impostor. A good deal of scientific attention was given to
the occurrences; Mr. Darwin, Mr. Tyndall, Dr. Carpenter, Mr. Huxley, had
all glanced at the phenomena, and been present at _séances_. In most cases
the exhibitions, in the dark, or in a very bad light, were impudent
impostures, and were so regarded by the _savants_ who looked into them. A
series of exposures culminated in the recent detection of Eusapia
Paladino by Dr. Hodgson and other members of the S.P.R. at Cambridge.
There was, however, an apparent exception. The arch mystagogue, Home,
though by no means a clever man, was never detected in fraudulent
productions of fetishistic phenomena. This is asserted here because
several third-hand stories of detected frauds by Home are in circulation,
and it is hoped that a well-attested first-hand case of detection may be
elicited.
Of Home's successes with Sir William Crookes, Lord Crawford, and others,
something remains to be said; but first we shall look into attempted
explanations of alleged physical phenomena occurring _not_ in the presence
of a paid or even of a recognised 'Medium.' It will appear, we think, that
the explanations of evidence so widely diffused, so uniform, so old, and
so new, are far from satisfactory. Our inference would be no more than
that our eyes should be kept on such phenomena, if they are reported to
recur.
Mr. Tylor says, 'I am well aware that the problem [of these phenomena] is
one to be discussed on its merits, in order to arrive at a distinct
opinion how far it may be connected with facts insufficiently appreciated
and explained by science, and how far with superstition, delusion, and
sheer knavery. Such investigation, pursued by careful observation in a
scientific spirit, would seem apt to throw light on some interesting
psychological questions.'
Acting on Mr. Tylor's hint, Mr. Podmore puts forward as explanations
(1) fraud; (2) hallucinations caused by excited expectation, and by the
_Schwärmerei_ consequent on sitting in hushed hope of marvels.