THE DIVINING ROD.—Description of and mode of using the same—Mr.
Fairholm’s statement—M. de Tristan’s statement—Account of Von
Reichenbach’s Od force—The Author’s own observations.
Dear Archy,—As a resource in the solitary evenings of commencing
winter, it occurred to me to look into the long-neglected lore of the
marvellous, the mystical, the supernatural. I remembered the deep awe
with which I had listened, many a year ago, to tales of seers, ghosts,
vampyrs, and all the dark brood of night. And I thought it would be
infinitely agreeable to thrill again with mysterious terrors, to
start in my chair at the closing of a distant door, to raise my eyes
with uneasy apprehension towards the mirror opposite, and to feel my
skin creep through the sensible “afflatus” of an invisible presence.
I entered, accordingly, upon a very promising course of appalling
reading. But, a-lack and well-a-day! a change had come over me since
the good old times when fancy, with fear and superstition behind her,
would creep on tiptoe to catch a shuddering glimpse of Kobbold, Fay,
or incubus. Vain were all my efforts to revive the pleasant horrors of
earlier years: it was as if I had planned going to a play to enjoy
again the full gusto of scenic illusion, and, through absence of mind,
was attending a morning rehearsal only; when, instead of what I had
anticipated, great-coats, hats, umbrellas, and ordinary men and women,
masks, tinsel, trap-doors, pulleys, and a world of intricate machinery,
lit by a partial gleam of sunshine, had met my view. The enchantment
was no longer there—the spell was broken.
Yet, on second thoughts, the daylight scene was worth contemplating.
A new object, of stronger interest, suggested itself. I might examine
and learn the mechanism of the illusions which had failed to furnish
me the projected entertainment. In the books I had looked into, I
discerned a clue to the explanation of many wonderful stories, which I
could hitherto only seriously meet by disbelief. I saw that phenomena,
which before had appeared isolated, depended upon a common principle,
itself allied with a variety of other singular facts and observations,
which wanted only to be placed in philosophical juxtaposition to be
recognised as belonging to science. So I determined to employ the
leisure before me upon an inquiry into the amount of truth in popular
superstitions, certain that, if the attempt were not premature, the
labour would be well repaid. There must be a real foundation for
the belief of ages. There can be no prevalent delusion without a
corresponding truth. The visionary promises of alchemy foreshadowed the
solid performances of modern chemistry, as the debased worship of the
Egyptians implied the existence of a proper object of worship.
Among the immortal productions of the Scottish Shakspeare—you smile,
but that phrase contains the true belief, not a popular delusion; for
the spirit of the poet lives not in the form of his works, but in his
creative power and vivid intuitions of nature; and the form even is
often nearer than you think:—but this excursiveness will never do; so,
to begin again.
Among the novels of Scott—I intended to say—there is not one more wins
upon us than the _Antiquary_. Nowhere has the great author more gently
and indulgently, never with happier humour, portrayed the mixed web of
strength and infirmity in human character; never, besides, with more
facile power evoked pathos and terror, and disported himself amid the
sublimity and beauty of nature. Yet, gentle as is his mood, he misses
not the opportunity—albeit, in general, he displays an honest leaning
towards old superstitions—mercilessly to crush one of the humblest. Do
you remember the Priory of St. Ruth, and the summer-party made to visit
it, and the preparations for the subsequent rogueries of Dousterswivel
in the tale of Martin Waldeck, and the discovery of a spring of water
by means of the divining rod?
I am inclined, do you know, to dispute the verdict of the novelist on
this occasion, and to take the part of the charlatan against the author
of his being; as far, at least, as regards the genuineness of the art
the said charlatan then and there affected to practise. There exists,
in fact, strong evidence to show that, in competent hands, the divining
rod really does what is pretended of it. This evidence I propose to put
before you in the present letter. But, as the subject may be entirely
new to you, I had best begin by describing what is meant by a divining
rod, and in what the imputed jugglery consists.
Then you are to learn that, in mining districts, a superstition
prevails among the people that some are born gifted with an occult
power of detecting the proximity of veins of metal, and of underground
currents of water. In Cornwall, they hold that about one in forty
possesses this faculty. The mode of exercising it is very simple. They
cut a hazel twig, just below where it forks. Having stripped the leaves
off, they cut each branch to something more than a foot in length,
leaving the stump three inches long. This implement is the divining
rod. The hazel is selected for the purpose, because it branches more
symmetrically than its neighbours. The hazel-fork is to be held by
the branches, one in either hand, the stump or point projecting
straight forwards. The arms of the experimenter hang by his sides; but
the elbows being bent at a right angle, the fore-arms are advanced
horizontally; the hands are held eight to ten inches apart; the
knuckles down, and the thumbs outwards. The ends of the branches of the
divining fork appear between the roots of the thumbs and fore-fingers.
The operator, thus armed, walks over the ground he intends exploring,
in the full expectation that, if he possesses the mystic gift, as
soon as he passes over a vein of metal, or an underground spring, the
hazel-fork will begin to move spontaneously in his hands, rising or
falling as the case may be.
You are possibly amused at my gravely stating, as a fact, an event so
unlikely. It is, indeed, natural that you should suppose the whole a
juggle, and think the seemingly spontaneous motion of the divining
fork to be really communicated to it by the hands of the conjurer—by a
sleight, in fact, which he puts in practice when he believes that he is
walking over a hidden water-course, or wishes you to believe that there
is a vein of metal near. Well, I thought as you do the greater part of
my life; and probably the likeliest way of combating your skepticism,
will be to tell you how my own conversion took place.
In the summer of 1843 I dwelt under the same roof with a Scottish
gentleman, well informed, of a serious turn of mind, fully endowed
with the national allowance of shrewdness and caution. I saw a good
deal of him; and one day, by chance, this subject of the divining rod
was mentioned. He told me, that at one time his curiosity having been
raised upon the subject, he had taken pains to ascertain what there
is in it. With this object in view he had obtained an introduction
to Mrs. R., sister of Sir G. R., then living at Southampton, whom he
had learned to be one of those in whose hands the divining rod moved.
He visited the lady, who was polite enough to show him in what the
performance consists, and to answer all his questions, and to assist
him in making experiments calculated to test the reality of the
phenomenon, and to elucidate its cause.
Mrs. R. told my friend that, being at Cheltenham in 1806, she saw, for
the first time, the divining rod used by Mrs. Colonel Beaumont, who
possessed the power of imparting motion to it in a very remarkable
degree. Mrs. R. tried the experiment herself at that time, but without
any success. She was, as it happened, very far from well. Afterwards,
in the year 1815, being asked by a friend how the divining rod is held,
and how it is to be used, on showing it she was surprised to see that
the instrument now moved in her hands.
Since then, whenever she had repeated the experiment, the power had
always manifested itself, though with varying degrees of energy.
Mrs. R. then took my friend to a part of the shrubbery where she knew,
from former trials, the divining rod would move in her hands. It did
so, to my friend’s extreme astonishment; and even continued to move,
when, availing himself of Mrs. R.’s permission, my friend grasped her
hands with sufficient firmness to prevent, as he supposed, any muscular
action of her wrists or fingers influencing the result.
On a subsequent day my friend having thought over what he had seen,
repeated his visit to the lady. He provided himself, as substitutes for
the hazel-fork which he had seen her employ, with portions of copper
and iron wire about a foot and a half long, bent something into the
form of the letter V. He had made, in fact, divining forks of wire,
wanting only the projecting point. He found that these instruments
moved quite as freely in Mrs. R.’s hands as the hazel-fork had done.
Then he coated the two handles of one of them with sealing-wax,
leaving, however, the extreme ends free and uncovered. When Mrs. R.
tried the rod so prepared, holding the parts alone which were covered
with sealing-wax, and walked on the same piece of ground as in the
former experiments, the rod remained perfectly still. As often,
however, as—with no greater change than adjusting her hands so as to
touch the free ends of the wire with her thumbs—Mrs. R. renewed direct
contact with the instrument, it again moved. The motion ceased again as
often as the direct contact was interrupted.
This simple narrative, made to me by the late Mr. George Fairholm,
carried conviction to my mind of the reality of the phenomenon. I asked
my friend why he had not pursued the subject further. He said he had
often thought of doing so, and had, he believed, mainly been deterred
by meeting with the work of the Compte de Tristan, entitled _Recherches
sur quelques effluves terrestres_, Paris, 1829, in which facts similar
to those which he had himself verified were given, and a number of
additional curious experiments detailed.
At Mr. Fairholm’s instance I procured the book, and, at a later period,
read it. I may say that it both satisfied and disappointed me. It
satisfied me, inasmuch as it fully confirmed all that Mr. Fairholm
had stated. It disappointed me, for it threw no additional light upon
the phenomena. M. de Tristan had in fact brought too little physical
knowledge to the investigation, so that a large proportion of his
experiments are puerile. However, his simpler experiments are valuable
and suggestive. These I will presently describe. In the mean time,
you shall hear the Count’s own narrative of his initiation into the
mysteries of the divining rod.
“The history of my researches,” says M. de Tristan, “is simply
this. Some twenty years ago, a gentleman who, from his position in
society, could have no object to gain by deception, showed to me, for
my amusement, the movement of the divining rod. He attributed the
motion to the influence of a current of water, which appeared to me
a probable supposition. But my attention was more engaged with the
action produced by the influence, let the latter be what it might.
My informant assured me he had met with many others in whom the same
effects were manifested. When I returned home, and had opportunities
of making trials under favourable circumstances, I found that I myself
possessed the same endowment. Since then I have induced many to make
the experiment, and I have found a fourth, or certainly a fifth, of
the number capable of setting the divining rod in motion at the very
first attempt. Since that time, during these twenty years, I have often
tried my hand, but for amusement only, and desultorily, and without
any idea of making the thing an object of scientific investigation.
But at length, in the year 1822, being in the country, and removed
from my ordinary pursuits, the subject again came across me, and I
determined forthwith to try and ascertain the cause of this phenomena.
Accordingly, I commenced a long series of experiments, from fifteen to
eighteen hundred in number, which occupied me nearly fifteen months.
The results of above twelve hundred were written down at the time of
their performance.”
The scene of the Count’s operations was in the valley of the Loire,
five leagues from Vendôme, in the park of the Chateau de Ranac. The
surface of ground which gave the desired results was from seventy to
eighty feet in breadth. But there was another spot equally efficient at
the Count’s ordinary residence at Emerillon, near Clery, four leagues
south of Orleans, ten leagues south of the Loire, at the commencement
of the plains of Solonge. The surface ran from north to south, and
had the same breadth with the other. These “exciting tracts” form, in
general, bands or zones of undetermined, and often very great length.
Their breadth is very variable; some are only three or four feet
across, while others are one hundred paces. These tracts are sometimes
sinuous; in other instances they ramify. To the most susceptible they
are broader than to those who are less so.
M. de Tristan thus describes what happens when a competent person,
armed with a hazel-fork, walks over the exciting districts:—
When two or three steps have been made upon the exciting tract of
ground, the fork, which at starting is held horizontally, with the
point forwards, begins gently to ascend; it gradually attains a
vertical position; sometimes it passes beyond that, and lowering
itself, with its point to the chest of the operator, it becomes again
horizontal. If the motion continues, the rod descending becomes
vertical, with the point downwards. Finally, the rod may again ascend
and resume its first position. When the action is very lively, the rod
immediately commences a second revolution; and so it goes on, as long
as the operator continues to walk over the exciting surface of ground.
A few of those in whose hands the divining fork moves exhibit a
remarkable peculiarity. The instrument, instead of commencing its
motion by ascending, descends; the point then becomes directed
vertically downwards; afterwards it reascends, and completes a
revolution in a course the opposite of the usual one; and as often and
as long as its motion is excited, it pursues this abnormal course.
Of the numerous experiments made by M. de Tristan, the following are
among the simplest and the best:—
He covered both handles of a divining rod with a thick silk stuff.
The result of using the instrument so prepared was the same which Mr.
Fairholm obtained by coating the handles with sealing-wax. The motion
of the divining rod was extinguished.
He covered both handles with one layer of a thin silk. He then found
that the motion of the divining rod took place, but it was less lively
and vigorous than ordinary.
By covering one handle of the divining rod, and that the right, with
a layer of thin silk, a very singular and instructive result was
obtained. The motion of the instrument was now reversed. It commenced
by descending.
After covering the point of the divining rod with a thick layer of silk
stuff, the motion was sensibly more brisk than it had been before.
When the Count held in his hands a straight rod of the same substance
conjointly with the ordinary divining rod, no movement of the latter
whatsoever ensued.
Finally, the Count discovered that he could cause the divining rod to
move when he walked over a non-exciting surface—as, for instance, in
his own chamber—by various processes. Of these the most interesting
consisted in touching the point of the instrument with either pole of
a magnetic needle. The instrument shortly began to move, ascending or
descending, according as the northward or southward pole of the needle
had been applied to it.
It is unnecessary to add that these, and all M. de Tristan’s
experiments, were repeated by him many times. The results of those
which I have narrated were constant.
Let me now attempt to realize something out of the preceding statements.
1. It is shown, by the testimony adduced, that whereas in the hands
of most persons the divining rod remains motionless, in the hands of
some it moves promptly and briskly when the requisite conditions are
observed.
2. It is no less certain that the motion of the divining rod has
appeared, to various intelligent and honest persons, who have succeeded
in producing it, to be entirely spontaneous; or that the said persons
were not conscious of having excited or promoted the motion by the
slightest help of their own.
3. It appears that in the ordinary use of the divining rod by competent
persons, its motion only manifests itself in certain localities.
4. It being assumed that the operator does not, however unconsciously,
by the muscular action of his hands and wrists produce the motion of
the divining rod, the likeliest way of accounting for the phenomenon is
to suppose that the divining rod may become the conductor of some fluid
or force, emanating from or disturbed in the body by a terrestrial
agency.
But here a difficulty arises: How can it happen that the hypothetical
force makes so long and round-about a course? Why, communicated to the
body through the legs, does not the supposed fluid complete a circuit
at once in the lower part of the trunk?
Such, at all events, would be the course an electric current so
circumstanced would take.
The difficulty raised admits of being removed by aid derived from
a novel and unexpected source. I allude to the discovery, by Von
Reichenbach, of a new force or principle in the physical world, which,
whether or not it is identical with that which gives motion to the
divining rod, exhibits, at all events, the very property which the
hypothetical principle should possess to explain the phenomena which we
have been considering.
No attempts have indeed been made to identify the two as one; and my
conjecture that they may prove so, should it even appear plausible,
is so vague, that I should have contented myself with referring to
Von Reichenbach’s new principle as to an established truth, and have
introduced no account of it into this Letter, had I not a second
motive for insuring your cognisance of the curious facts which the
Viennese philosopher has brought to light. It is less with the view
of furnishing a leg to the theory of the divining rod, than in order
to provide the means of elucidating more interesting problems, that
I now proceed briefly to sketch the leading experiments made by Von
Reichenbach, and their results.
Objections have been taken against these experiments, on the ground
that their effects are purely subjective; that the results must be
received on the testimony of the party employed; and that the best
parties for the purpose are persons whose natural sensibility is
exalted by disorder of the nerves; a class of persons always suspected
of exaggeration, and even, and in part with justice, of a tendency to
trickery and deception. But this was well known to Von Reichenbach,
who appears to have taken every precaution necessary to secure his
observations against error. And when I add, that many of the results
which he obtained upon the most sensitive and the highly nervous, were
likewise manifested in persons of established character and in good
health, and that the fidelity of the author and of his researches is
authenticated by the publication of the latter in Woehler and Liebig’s
_Chemical Annals_, (Supplement to volume 53, Heidelberg, 1845,) I think
you will not withhold from them complete reliance.
In general, persons in health and of a strong constitution are
insensible to the influence of Von Reichenbach’s new force. But all
persons, the tone of whose health has been lowered by their mode of
life—men of sedentary habits, clerks, and the like, and women who
employ their whole time in needlework, whose pale complexions show the
relaxed and therefore irritable state of their frames—all such, or
nearly all—evince more or less susceptibility to the influence I am
about to describe.
Von Reichenbach found that persons of the latter class, when slow
passes are made with the poles of a strong magnet moved parallel to
the surface—down the back, for instance, or down the limbs, and only
distant enough just not to touch the clothes—feel sensations rather
unpleasant than otherwise, as of a light draft of air blown upon them
in the path of the magnet.
In the progress of his researches, Von Reichenbach found that the more
sensitive among his subjects could detect the presence of his new agent
by another sense. In the dark they saw dim flames of light issuing and
waving from the poles of the magnet. The experiments suggested by this
discovery afford the most satisfactory proofs of the reality of the
phenomena. They were the following:—A horse-shoe magnet having been
adjusted upon a table, with the poles directed upwards, the sensitive
subject saw, at the distance of ten feet, the appearance of flames
issuing from it. The armature of the magnet—a bar of soft iron—was then
applied. Upon this the flames disappeared. They reappeared, she said,
as often as the armature was removed from the magnet.
A similar experiment was made with a yet more sensitive subject. This
person saw, in the first instance, flames as the first had done;
but when the armature of the magnet was applied, the flames did not
disappear: she saw flames still: only they were fainter, and their
disposition was different. They seemed now to issue from every part of
the surface of the magnet equally.
It is hardly necessary to add, that these experiments were made in a
well-darkened room, and that none of the bystanders could discern what
the sensitive subjects saw.
Then the following experiment was made:—A powerful lens was so placed
as that it should concentrate the light of the flames (if real light
they were) upon a point of the wall of the room. The patient at
once saw the light upon the wall at the right place; and when the
inclination of the lens was shifted, so as to throw the focus in
succession on different points, the sensitive observer never failed in
pointing out the right spot.
To his new force, which Von Reichenbach had now found to emanate
likewise from the poles of crystals and the wires of the voltaic pile,
he gave the arbitrary but convenient name of Od, or the Od force.
His next step was to ascertain the existence of a difference among the
sensations produced by Od. Sometimes the current of air was described
as warm, sometimes as cool. He found this difference to depend upon
the following cause: Whenever the northward pole of a magnet, or one
definite pole of a large crystal, or the negative wire of a voltaic
battery, is employed in the experiment, the sensation produced is that
of a draft of cool air. On the contrary, the southward pole of the
magnet, the opposite pole of the crystal, the positive voltaic wire,
excite the sensation of a draft of warm air.
So the new force appeared to be a polar force, and Von Reichenbach
called the first series of the above described manifestations
_Od-negative_ effects, the second _Od-positive_ effects.
From among his numerous experiments towards establishing the polarity
of Od, I select the following:—One of the most sensitive of his
subjects held, at his desire, a piece of copper wire, by the middle
with the right hand—by one end with the left. Then Von Reichenbach
touched the free end of the wire with one pole of a large crystal, in
order to charge it with Od. The patient immediately felt a sensation in
the right hand, which disappeared as quickly, to be felt by the left
hand instead, at the further end of the piece of wire. She then was
bidden to take hold of the wire with both her hands at the middle,
and then to slide them away from each other to the opposite ends:
she observed, on doing so, that sensations were produced which were
strong and decided when her hands held the two ends of the wire, and
diminished in intensity in proportion as the hands were nearer its
middle.
Von Reichenbach next came upon the observation that the human hand
gives out the Od force; and that the right hand displays the characters
of negative Od, the left those of positive Od. The more sensitive
subjects recognised, in the dark, the appearance of dim flames
proceeding from the tips of his fingers; and all felt the corresponding
sensations of drafts of cool or of warm air. Subsequently the whole
body was found to share the properties of the hands; the entire right
side to manifest negative Od, the entire left side positive Od.
So, in reference to this new force, the human body exhibits a
transverse polarity; the condition is thus realized which is required
to belong to the hypothetical force through which the divining rod
might be supposed to move. If any terrestrial influence were capable
of disturbing the Od force in the body, however it might affect its
intensity, a current or circuit could only be established through the
arms and hands; unless, indeed, some extraordinary means were taken,
such as employing an artificial conductor, arched half round the body,
to connect the two sides.
The sensations which attend the establishment of a current of Od and
interferences with it, in sensitive subjects, are exemplified in the
following observations:—
A bar magnet was laid on the palm of the left hand of one of the most
sensitive subjects, with its southward pole resting on the end of her
middle finger, the northward pole on the fore-arm above the wrist. It
thus corresponded with the natural polar arrangement of the Od force in
the patient’s hand and arm. Accordingly, no sensation was excited. But
when the position of the magnet was reversed, and the northward pole
lay on the end of the middle finger of the left hand, an uneasy sense
of an inward conflict arose in the hand and wrist, which disappeared
when the magnet was removed or its original direction restored. On
laying the magnet reversed on the fore-arm, the sense of an inward
struggle returned, which was heightened on joining the hands and
establishing a circuit.
When the patient completed the circuit in another way—namely, by
holding a bar magnet by the ends, if the latter were disposed normally,
(that is, if the northward pole was held in the left hand, the
southward pole in the right,) a lively consciousness of some inward
action ensued. A normal circulation of Od was in progress. When the
direction of the magnet was reversed, the phenomenon mentioned in the
last paragraph recurred. The patient experienced a high degree of
uneasiness, a feeling as of an inward struggle extending itself to the
chest, with a sense of whirling round, and confusion in the head. These
symptoms disappeared immediately upon her letting go the magnet.
Similar results ensued when Von Reichenbach substituted himself for the
magnet. When he took Miss Maix’s hands in his normally—that is to say,
her left in his right, her right in his left—she felt a circulation
moving up the right arm through the chest down the left arm, attended
with a sense of giddiness. When he changed hands, the disagreeableness
of the sensation was suddenly heightened, the sense of inward conflict
arose, attended with a sort of undulation up and down the arms, and
through the chest, which quickly became intolerable.
A singular but consistent difference in the result ensued when Von
Reichenbach repeated the last two experiments upon Herr Schuh. Herr
Schuh was a strong man, thirty years of age, in full health, but
highly impressible by Od. When Von Reichenbach took his two hands in
his own normally, Herr Schuh felt the normal establishment of the Od
current in his arms and chest. In a few seconds headache and vertigo
ensued, and the experiment was too disagreeable to be prolonged. But
when Von Reichenbach took his hands abnormally, no sensible effect
ensued. Being equally strong with Von Reichenbach, Herr Schuh’s frame
repelled the counter-current, which the latter arrangement tended to
throw into him. In the first or normal arrangement, the Od current had
met with no resistance, but had simply gone its natural course. The
distress occurred _from its being felt_ through Herr Schuh’s accidental
sensitiveness to Od; of the freaks of which in their systems people in
general are unconscious.
I have concluded my case in favour of the pretensions of the divining
rod. It seems to me, at all events, strong enough to justify any one
who has leisure, in cutting a hazel-fork, and walking about with it in
suitable places, holding it in the manner described. I doubt, however,
whether I should recommend a friend to make the experiment. If, by good
luck, the divining rod should refuse to move in his hands, he might
accuse himself of credulity, and feel silly, and hope nobody had seen
him, for the rest of the day. If, unfortunately, the first trial should
succeed, and he should be led to pursue the inquiry, the consequences
would be more serious: his probable fate would be to fall at once
several degrees in the estimation of his friends, and to pass with
the world, all the rest of his life, for a crotchety person of weak
intellects.
As for the divining rod itself, if my argument prove sound, it will be
a credit to the family of superstitions; for without any reduction,
or clipping, or trimming, it may at once assume the rank of a new
truth. But, alas! the trials which await it in that character!—what an
ordeal is before it! A new truth has to encounter three normal stages
of opposition. In the first, it is denounced as an imposture; in the
second—that is, when it is beginning to force itself into notice—it
is cursorily examined, and plausibly explained away; in the third, or
_cui bono_ stage, it is decried as useless, and hostile to religion.
And when it is fully admitted, it passes only under a protest that it
has been perfectly known for ages—a proceeding intended to make the new
truth ashamed of itself, and wish it had never been born.
I congratulate the sea-serpent on having arrived at the second stage of
belief. Since Professor Owen (no disrespect to his genuine ability and
eminent knowledge) has explained it into a sea-elephant, its chance of
being itself is much improved; and as it will skip the third stage—for
who will venture to question the good of a sea-serpent?—it is liable
now any morning “to wake and find itself famous,” and to be received
even at Lincoln’s Inn Fields, where its remains may commemoratively be
ticketed the Ex-Great-Seal.
POSTSCRIPT, (1850.)—It may save trouble to some future experimenter to
narrate my own exploits with the divining rod.
In the spring of 1847, being then at Weilbach in Nassau, a region
teeming with underground sources of water, I requested the son of
the proprietor of the bathing establishment—a tall, thin, pale,
white-haired youth, by name Edward Seebold—to walk in my presence up
and down a promising spot of ground, holding a divining fork of hazel,
with the accessories recommended by M. de Tristan to beginners—that is
to say, he held in his right hand three pieces of silver, besides one
handle of the rod, while the handle which he held in his left hand was
covered with a thin silk.
The lad had not made five steps when the point of the divining fork
began to ascend. He laughed with astonishment at the event, which was
totally unexpected by him; and he said that he experienced a tickling
or thrilling sensation in his hands. He continued to walk up and down
before me. The fork had soon described a complete circle; then it
described another; and so it continued to do as long as he walked thus,
and as often as, after stopping, he resumed his walk. The experiment
was repeated by him in my presence, with like success, several times
during the ensuing month. Then the lad fell into ill health, and I
rarely saw him. However, one day I sent for him, and begged him to do
me the favour of making another trial with the divining fork. He did
so, but the instrument moved slowly and sluggishly; and when, having
completed a semicircle, it pointed backwards towards the pit of his
stomach, it stopped, and would go no farther. At the same time the lad
said he felt an uneasy sensation, which quickly increased to pain,
at the pit of the stomach, and he became alarmed, when I bade him
quit hold of one handle of the divining rod, and the pain ceased. Ten
minutes afterwards I induced him to make another trial; the results
were the same. A few days later, when the lad seemed still more out
of health, I induced him to repeat the experiment. Now, however, the
divining fork would not move at all.
I entertain little doubt that the above performances of Edward Seebold
were genuine. I thought the same of the performances of three English
gentlemen, and of a German, in whose hands, however, the divining rod
never moved through an entire circle. In the hands of one of them
its motion was retrograde, or abnormal: that is to say, it began by
descending.
But I met with other cases, which were less satisfactory, though not
uninstructive. I should observe that, in the hands of several who
tried to use it in my presence, the divining fork would not move an
inch. But there were two younger brothers of Edward Seebold, and a
bath-maid, and my own man, in whose hands the rod played new pranks.
When these parties walked _forwards_ the instrument ascended, or
moved normally; but when, by my desire, they walked _backwards_, the
instrument immediately went the other way. I should observe that, in
the hands of Edward Seebold, the instrument moved in the same direction
whether he walked forwards or backwards; and I have mentioned that at
first it described in his hands a complete circle. But with the four
parties I have just been speaking of, the motion of the fork was always
limited in extent. When it moved normally at starting, it stopped
after describing an arc of about 225°; in the same way, when it moved
abnormally at starting, it would stop after describing an arc of about
135°; that is to say, there was one spot the same for the two cases,
beyond which it could not get. Then I found that, in the hands of my
man, the divining rod would move even when he was standing still,
although with a less lively action; still it stopped as before, nearly
at the same point. Sometimes it ascended, sometimes descended. Then
I tried some experiments, touching the point with a magnetic needle.
I found, in the course of them, that when my man knew which way I
expected the fork to move, it invariably answered my expectations;
but when I had the man blindfolded, the results were uncertain and
contradictory. The end of all this was, that I became certain that
several of those in whose hands the divining rod moves, set it in
motion and direct its motion by the pressure of their fingers, and by
carrying their hands nearer to, or farther apart. In walking forwards,
the hands are unconsciously borne towards each other; in walking
backwards, the reverse is the case.
Therefore, I recommend no one to prosecute these experiments unless
he can execute them himself, and unless the divining rod describes a
complete circle in his hands; and even then he should be on his guard
against self-deception.
POSTSCRIPT II.—I am now (May, 1851) again residing at the bathing
establishment of Weilbach, near Mayence; and it was with some interest
and curiosity that the other day I requested Mr. Edward Seebold, now a
well-grown young man, in full health, to try his hand again with the
divining-rod. He readily assented to my request; and he this time knew
exactly what result I expected. But the experiment entirely failed.
The point of the divining rod rose, as he walked, not more than two
or three inches; but this it does with every one who presses the two
handles towards each other during the experiment. Afterwards the
implement remained perfectly stationary. I think I am not at liberty
to withhold this result from the reader, whom it may lead to question,
though it cannot induce myself to doubt, the genuineness of the former
performances of Mr. E. S.