Part 15

We can extend much leniency to Hutchinson, because he lived and wrote when the pendulum of belief, recently wrenched from the disturbing grasp of witchcraft, and allowed to swing back toward extreme Sadduceeism, had not acquired its legitimate movements under the action of mesmerism, Spiritualism, psychology, and other regulating forces. Witchcraft's unnatural devil had died from the blow he received at Salem Village in 1692, and for a long time afterward there was seeming non-intercourse between men and dwellers in spirit realms; partially man was forgetting that there are spirits, and doubting whether they had ever acted overtly among men. Probably Hutchinson's thoughts were never led to inquire whether the forces and realms of nature may not extend far above, below, and around the confines of palpable matter,--extend beyond where man's external senses take cognizance,--or where his natural science has penetrated. His thoughts, perhaps, were never led to inquire whether there exists natural provision for mesmeric and varied psychological operations, nor to inquire whether, under possible fitting conditions, unseen intelligences could possess and control certain peculiar physical human forms. Lacking not only knowledge, but also circumstances which would naturally generate any conjecture that both good spirits and bad alike might sometimes come to earth in freedom, and work wonders on its external surface and among its living inhabitants, Hutchinson, cornered and baffled in search for an adequate cause for facts which he felt called upon to state, could only credulously say, in _quasi_ explanation of them, "_It was a time of great credulity_"!

His implied position that all the works were nothing more than natural acts and sufferings of children, magnified and made formidable by popular credulity, fails to yield satisfactory revealment of the nature and origin of such facts as he himself presents and leaves uncontroverted.

What was the character of the Goodwin children themselves? They were bright, religiously educated, and free from guile. The account shows that four _such_ children, of a sudden, without previous training for it, all join at first, and three of them long unitedly continue, in a course of most distressing imposition upon their own family, upon physicians, clergymen, magistrates, and the neighborhood; also that the imposition is manifested by astounding physical feats, and simultaneous, identical signs and complaints of suffering, even though the sufferers are in separate apartments. If, possibly, by their own wills and powers they could perform the tricks, how incongruous it would be with their alleged traits and ages! How inconceivable that four such children, from the boy of sixteen down to the girl of seven, or from the girl of thirteen down to the boy of five, should conspire, and three of them co-operate thoroughly, effectively, and long, in voluntarily and purposely producing such mischief and misery as were there experienced! _Suspicion_ of fraud no doubt arose. But the appearance is, that facts soon put the case beyond any powers of fraud which such children, or any embodied human beings, could put forth. Without previous practice and training in concert, a successful attempt by themselves at what was done through and upon them is incredible. No hint is given that they ever practiced in preparation. Had they have done so, seemingly their father, the "grave man and good liver," must have known it, and would have been governed by his knowledge of it in judging and treating his children. Who doubts that it would be shameful to charge or suspect that man, and his friends and physicians, with such credulity, _at the first coming on of the fits_, that they could not judge fairly and sensibly of what nature of cause the actions and sufferings indicated?

"O, star-eyed" Fancy, "hast thou wandered there, To waft us back the message of"--_credulity_?

Look still more closely at the circumstances of this case. The bright girl of "great ingenuity of temper, of religious education, and without guile," _was just out from under the infuriated lashings of a wild Irish tongue_, when she commenced her--what? her frolic? her course of fraud and imposture? Was that a _playful_ moment? Was that the time for a general mood which would start a whole family of guileless little children to unite spontaneously and instantly for a guileful and distressing imposition upon relatives and friends? When she fell in fits, _from such a cause_, was it a credible time for her bright brother to recklessly increase the family excitement by imitating the sufferer's movements and tones of distress? Was that a condition of things in which the younger two would join the elder in sly additions to the distress around them? No; most surely, No.

"Is it possible," asks the historian, "that the mind of man should be capable of such strong prejudices as that suspicion of fraud should not immediately arise?" We answer for him and say, No; emphatically, No. Such suspicion must have been felt. And we ask in turn, is it possible that an historian's mind can be capable of such strong prejudices as that suspicion that such a family as he described, circumstanced as he made it, was absolutely incapable of practicing fraud and imposition competent to the results which he indicates were wrought out? Yes, his mind failed to receive such a suspicion, and therefore reveals its own blinding prejudices. Skepticism in one direction generated credulity in another with him, as it does with many to-day.

Four children of the "grave man" were simultaneously and excruciatingly racked and tortured precisely alike, and in the same parts of their bodies, although being, some of them, in separate apartments, and ignorant of one another's complaints. Such are the alleged and uncontested facts. The citizens of Boston, two or three years ago, were permitted to see, and we saw, even more than four, yes, eight or ten boys, strangers to the operator, and mostly to each other, volunteer to go upon a stage, where, in a few minutes, after two or three out of a dozen had been requested to leave the stage, all the others were made to move, and act, and suffer precisely and simultaneously alike, many of them standing often back to back, and no one among them perceptibly looking at any other. This was all occasioned by the mental, magnetic or psychological force of Professor Cadwell.

If we presume (and why may we not?) that the wild Irish woman possessed strong psychological powers; that Martha Goodwin was easily subjectible to psychological control; that her brothers and sister were so too, and that they were all naturally sympathetic, then we can see that nothing more occurred, even if the whole that is told be literally true, than falls within the scope of such psychological forces as have in recent years been manifested by embodied, and, we may add, by disembodied minds. If in her anger the old woman forced or found rapport between her own sphere or aura and that of Martha Goodwin, way was opened for injection of germs of suffering to the girl's system, and the systems of others in rapport with her. Way was opened through which the tormentor could, though absent, send upon the child ugly wishes that would keep torturing her so long as the old woman kept the wishes active; as perhaps she did in many of her waking hours. The account says, "One or two things were _very remarkable_. All their complaints were _in the daytime_, and they slept comfortably _all night_." When the old woman was asleep, and her resentful feelings were dormant, the children also slept.

A passage-way so opened as to admit the entrance of one, usually admits others of the same kind to follow. Where the old woman's subduing will-force had entered and gained sway, that of her sympathetic, and many other spirits, might do the same; and could make the children's outer forms either accept or reject, at the controller's pleasure, any books or class of literature which should be offered for perusal. Catholic spirits, or any spirit, liking a little fun, might keenly relish the work of astonishing Cotton Mather and his ilk, by showing preferences antagonistic to his own righteous ones.

The case of Philip Smith, a very intelligent, efficient, and highly respected citizen of Hadley, Mass., exhibits analogous phenomena. We shall not go into that case in detail. It occurred 1685, and is very instructive. Being sick, sensitive, clairvoyant, and pining away, "he uttered a hard suspicion" that one old Mrs. Webster, _who had once been tried for witchcraft_, and also had taken offense at some of Smith's official acts, "had made impressions with enchantments upon him." His "suspicion" and sufferings fired the minds of young men in the town to go "three or four times" and give that old woman disturbance. Drake, in Woodward's "Hist. Series," No. VIII. p. 179, presents the following account: "It is said by a reliable historian that the young miscreants went to her house, dragged her out, and hung her up till she was almost dead. They then cut her down, rolled her some time in the snow, and then buried her up in it, leaving her, as they supposed, for dead. But by a miracle, as it were, she survived this barbarity. Still more miraculous it was, that the sick man was greatly relieved during the time the helpless old woman was being so beastly abused." Mather, in his account (ib. p. 177) says, "All the while they were disturbing her, he was at ease, and slept as a weary man." This is all possible, and not improbable. The man was obviously very susceptible to psychological influences, and could trace felt malignant forces to their source. She, no doubt, was a turbulent and odd old woman, for she had been tried for witchcraft, and was probably a natural psychologist. As long as rough handling caused her to call in, and keep at home, and concentrate all her thoughts and forces for self-defence and protection, no emanations from her went out to the sick man, who then consequently dropped into quiet sleep.

One of these Goodwins, says Hutchinson, "I knew many years after. She had the character of a very sober, virtuous woman, and never made any acknowledgment of fraud in the transaction." Probably, therefore, there was no fraud. This sober, virtuous woman, a party concerned, years subsequently made profession of religion, continued long to live a useful and respected life, and never made acknowledgment of fraud. The probability is near to certainty that she never acted any.

And how was it with the others? "They returned to their ordinary behavior, lived to adult age, and made profession of religion." Look at the case. Four guileless, bright little sisters and brothers, residing together under their father's watch, in the twinkling of an eye, flash upon the gaze of the town in which they lived, seemingly as adroit and proficient tricksters as were ever known, and all of them alike competent to their several parts. They remain the town's wonder for months, and then all return to their former behavior, grow up and live Christian lives among the witnesses of their strange doings, and never make confession of fraud. Was there any _fraud_? Only the over-credulous in self-powers of divination backward will believe that there was.

In the process of watching these children, and the annoyances and sufferings they endured, it was discovered that when absent from home they were in great measure exempt from the special evils; therefore arrangements were made for their abode elsewhere; and probably not for all of them together in any one family. We find that the girl Martha became a resident in Cotton Mather's family not many weeks after the commencement of the great consternation. And it is stated that for a time none of her extraordinary demeanor was manifested there; yet subsequently the fits and antics revealed themselves abundantly, even under the roof of the devil-fighting clergyman. Some sayings and doings while she was residing there, manifested more frolicsome and quizzical motives than prompted the manifestations described by Hutchinson.

Turning to a much later historian, we quote from Upham as follows:--

"One of the children seems to have had a genius scarcely inferior to that of Master Burke himself; there was no part nor passion she could not enact. She would complain that the old Irish woman had tied an invisible noose round her neck, and was choking her; and her complexion and features would instantly assume the various hues and violent distortions natural to a person in such a predicament. She would declare that an invisible chain was fastened to one of her limbs, and would limp about precisely as though it were really the case. She would say that she was in an oven; the perspiration would drop from her face, and she would produce every appearance of being roasted; then she would cry out that cold water was being thrown upon her, and her whole frame would shiver and shake. She pretended that the evil spirit came to her in the shape of an invisible horse; and she would canter, gallop, trot, and amble round the rooms and entries in such admirable imitation, that an observer could hardly believe that a horse was not beneath her, and bearing her about. She would go up stairs with exactly such a toss and bound as a person on horseback would exhibit."

Such is a general summary of her feats as presented by this historian. Does he believe that such things were actually performed either by or through her? Does he believe that such were the literal facts even in appearance? He nowhere, so far as we notice, till he sums up the case, _distinctly_ charges fraud on the one side, or such credulity on the other, as made witnesses falsify as to appearances. He seems to admit the facts as _appearances_, and charge them all to the girl's extra cunning and skillful acting. "She _pretended_ that the evil [?] spirit came to her." Was it only her _pretense_? Who knows? Why say _pretended_? Was she so generous as to give credit to another, and that other an "evil spirit," for help which she did not receive? Are expert tricksters accustomed to disown their own powers to astonish? Especially do they ever spontaneously avow that the devil or any _evil spirit_ is helping them? We think not. And yet it is stated that Martha Goodwin's own lips declared that some invisible spirit was acting through her, or was helping her perform her marvelous feats. Why call that a _pretense_, and make her a liar? Why not put some confidence in the words of this religiously educated girl?

The historian says that while she was residing with Mather, "the cunning and ingenious child"--please mark the adjectives of the modern expounder, applied by him to one whom the earlier records put among those who "had been religiously educated and thought _to be without guile_"--"the cunning and ingenious child," he says, "seems to have taken great delight in perplexing and playing off her tricks upon the learned man. Once he wished to say something in her presence to a third person, which he did not intend she should understand. She had penetration enough to _conjecture_" (why say _conjecture_?) "what he had said. He was amazed. He then tried Greek; she was equally successful. He next spoke in Hebrew; she instantly detected his meaning. He resorted to the Indian language, and that she pretended not to know." Such are facts as deduced from Mather's account by Upham and put forth by the latter, and which he attempts to account for by supposition that the girl's own _conjectures_ enabled her to get at the meaning of sentences put forth in languages of which she had no knowledge. No doubt she was bright, but not competent to all that. Fancy and imagination ply their wings needlessly when they rise from the ground of fact and fly off to the lands of conjecture and pretense, thinking to bring thence true solution of such a marvel. The girl avowed the presence of a spirit with herself, and that he helped her. That explains the whole transaction. Upon full separation from the body, each human mind loses all knowledge of earth language, having no further use for it, because the mind then enters conditions in which the thoughts of any other spirit, whatsoever its native language, may be read at a glance. Whatever language Mather might have spoken in, he would have been intelligible by any disembodied spirit. For not words, but the thought, irrespective of its dress, could be read. The Indian language she _pretended_ not to know. Perhaps so; but probably that was no _pretense_. It is not probable that the girl herself, as such, had much acquaintance with any other language than English; any departed spirit who controlled her would have no knowledge of any earth language whatsoever, nor need he have, for unclothed thought was perceptible by him. A roguish mind behind the scenes--and such a one may have played many a trick at the parsonage--would be likely, at his own pleasure, to bother, astonish, or confound the Rev. Polyglot by seeming either to comprehend or not, just according to his own whims or varying moods as the play went on from step to step. Mather's attempt to conceal his meaning from the girl might very naturally be amusing to the thought-reading intellect then lurking in and controlling the girl's organs, and quite as naturally would incite him to play the wag a while. Martha neither _conjectured_ nor _pretended_ at all; she was then quiescent, while other eyes looked through hers and saw what was inside the mill-stone.

We have stated essentially that each mortal upon departing from this life enters into conditions where human language is not only not needed, but is unusable; therefore we may be asked how returning spirits can possibly speak to us in our language, which is no longer at their command. They measurably rechange or change back their conditions when they reconnect themselves with a mortal form; they then come back to where earth language is needful, and where fitting instrumentality for revival of knowledge and use of such language exist. They, however, do not reconnect themselves with their own former forms, nor often with forms which they can use as well as they formerly did their own; in many, very many instances, those who, in their own forms, were eminent for polished diction and fervid eloquence, either get such slight control or get hold of such rickety or such rigid vocal apparatus, that they can make no perceptible approximation to their former productions. The reincarnated spirit is a somewhat mystical being, half spirit, half man, and as a spirit can read the thoughts of man, and as man can use human language.

Flattery was sometimes poured over the minister through the lips of Martha, with a lavishness indicative of its flowing from some ensconsed waggish spirit, amusing himself by tickling the vanity of the egotistical black coat, much more than from a guileless miss speaking to her consequential minister.

A special scene is thus described by Mather:--

"There stood open the study of one belonging to the family, into which entering, she stood immediately on her feet, and cried out, 'They are gone! They are gone! They say they cannot. God won't let 'em come here!' adding a reason for it which the owner of the study thought more kind than true; and she presently and perfectly came to herself, so that her whole discourse and carriage was altered into the greatest measure of sobriety."

Very likely Mather was then egregiously cajoled by _some_ one. Observation, together with information otherwise obtained, renders it obvious that one essential condition of psychological control is, that the magnetisms or auras of the controlling mind shall, at the time, be, in the mass of its operative qualities and powers, stronger than, or positive to, any other person's spheres, auras, or emanations amid which the control is either to be taken or held on to. Suppose, then, what would be necessary under the circumstances, that the atmosphere, walls, and furniture of that study were highly charged with emanations from the vigorous minded Mather, who was then present, and consequently his own halo was radiating there and keeping his surroundings fully charged with himself. Physical and also external mental and emotional effluvia from him might then be so repulsive to magnetisms pertaining to spirits of any moral quality whatsoever, that no visitant from unseen realms would try to withstand the repulsion. If such was the condition of things, the parting exclamation of the last to remain, might well be, "They are gone; God won't let 'em come here!" Such statement would be in full harmony with the most common use of language to-day by spirits, for they are accustomed to say that God won't let them do this or that, when, according to their own oft-repeated explanation, they mean only that the forces of nature oppose or control them. God and natural forces with them generally mean one and the same all-dominating power--God's forces as well as himself are called by his name by visitants who read his operations with more than mortal accuracy.

"She presently and perfectly came to herself, so that her whole discourse and carriage was altered into the greatest measure of sobriety." Yes, naturally so; for Martha Goodwin herself resumed control of her own body, and re-exhibited the religiously educated and guileless girl which she in fact was, just as soon as usurping visitants vacated her legitimate premises. So long as her form was dominated by another's mind, her existence was either a blank to herself, or, if conscious, she was powerless.