You know that the committee members were chosen by the King from the Faculty of Medicine and from this Academy, in order to investigate animal magnetism and to give their opinion on its existence and utility. We have given an account of this to the King and to the public. His Majesty was satisfied with our work; it remains for the public and Europe to judge it.

But Academicians owe the Academy and their colleagues a detailed account of their proceedings. This report was written in order to submit for your examination the views which guided our research and the conclusions drawn from our work.

When I say we, gentlemen, I mean the entire committee; no one was set apart, the work belongs to all: equally guided by the interests of the truth, we have always been united, always unanimous. The report which will be presented here is an homage to your colleagues in particular, but everything it contains is the result of work undertaken in common by the members of the two institutions.

It has been more than six years since animal magnetism was introduced in Europe, especially in France and in this capital. But it has only been since about two years ago that it interested a large number of citizens, and that it became a subject for public discussion. Never has such an extraordinary question divided the minds of an enlightened nation. A sure and powerful method was proposed of acting on living beings, a new remedy, a universal agent for healing and preventing illness. This art was a mystery. Physicists did not understand its workings, and they heard nothing but talk of prodigies. Few actual cures were cited, but many people felt that it had helped them, and the remedy met with enough success to encourage the hopes of the ill. For some time now, the secret of it was made known. Since then we have seen educated people, enlightened, even distinguished by their talents, adopt the new theory and practice that they were taught; we have seen a number of doctors and surgeons admitted to the school of Magnetism, become its partisans, defend its theory, follow its practices. These accounts of magnetism caused the finest minds to reflect, and the learned to suspend their judgement. It is under these circumstances that the members of this committee were appointed by the King; the investigation that he ordered is fruit of the wisdom of his administration. It was a scandal for Europe to watch a people enlightened by all the sciences and arts, a people with whom philosophy made its greatest progress, forget the lesson of Descartes, the champion of philosophy. This people held two opposing parties in its breast, who directed their gaze and their thoughts on the same object, but who disagreed and fought amongst each other: one announcing magnetism as a useful and sublime discovery, and the other regarding it as a both a ridiculous and dangerous illusion. The decision was important and indispensable; it was essential to enlighten those who doubted, and to establish a foundation to either justify incredulity or inspire confidence. One must not be indifferent to the ill-founded reign of false opinion: the sciences, which grow larger with the truth, have even more to gain by the suppression of an error. An error is always a spoiled yeast which ferments and eventually corrupts the substance in which it is introduced. But when this error leaves the empire of the sciences to spread among the multitude, to divide and agitate minds, when it presents a misleading way to heal the sick, whom it discourages from looking elsewhere for help—especially when such an error has both a physical and a psychological influence—a good government has an interest in destroying it. The distribution of enlightenment is an excellent use of authority! The members of this committee hastened to adopt the views of the administration, and to earn the honor of their selection.

Upon studying the public reception of magnetism, they were at first struck by the remarkable opposition between the nature of the effects produced, and the apparent insufficiency of the means employed On the one hand, there were violent, long and repeated convulsions; on the other, a simple laying of hands, gestures, and signs: and yet the public effect intimates a great power being unleashed by these means, weak as they are. A spectacle such as this seemed to transport us to the age and the reign of the fairies: a control exerted over a number of individuals, the man who wields this control, the wand as his instrument—in fact, it all resembles the enchantments in our fairy tales; it is their stories brought to life. But if this spectacle is surprising, it should not overwhelm us. Even though it was able to command the beliefs of a number of spectators, driven by a more or less attentive curiosity; even though it was able to seduce especially the sick, who are always ready to deceive themselves; it was not able to produce this effect on men chosen for a serious investigation. Their principal duty was to be on guard against illusion. They mutually kept watch on each other, they observed in silence; and by keeping their calm in the midst of the enthusiasm, they were able to listen to their reason and seek out the light of truth.

We began by asking what hidden means produced so many of these surprising effects, and for what reasons were these effects attributed to a new and unknown fluid, a fluid which belongs to man and exerts its power on man. The grander and more extraordinary this discovery, the more discerning we had to be with the evidence. Then, proceeding as physicists, we tried to detect the presence of the fluid; but this fluid is imperceptible to all the senses. We were told that its effects on animate bodies was the sole proof of its existence. Gentlemen, you have seen the solid reasons in our report which, amidst the purported effects of this phenomenon, caused us to reject it absolutely as a cure of illness. Nature acts at the same time as the remedy; it is impossible to tell whether the cure belongs to the remedy or to nature. Sometimes nature heals without a remedy; how can we be convinced of an invisible remedy from a recovery which nature could achieve without it? We were therefore forced to limit ourselves to observing the physical effects of the fluid effecting temporary changes on the animal physiology. But then, gentlemen, we entered into a labyrinth of difficulties. If nature's first causes are simple, its final results are the product of vast complexities. Man does not make one movement which could not be due to an infinity of causes. A psychological as well as a physical being, his inclinations, his pains, his movements all depend as much on his thinking as on the irritability of his organs. The experiments that we conducted on ourselves, made us understand that when one's attention is turned away, all the effects of magnetism disappear. The tests performed on the sick taught us that children, who are not susceptible to prejudice, feel nothing; that madness counters the effects of magnetism, even when the patient is in a habitual state of convulsions and excited nerves, in which this phenomenon should produce the most effects. In a group of sick people, if some felt light or equivocal effects, others felt nothing; this greatly surprised us. Is not magnetism claimed to be a universal fluid, the principle of life, nature's great inner mechanism? What is an agent which does not always act the same under similar circumstances? Does not the absence of its effect in certain cases indicate that the effect attributed to it in other cases belongs to other causes? It failed to have an effect when we investigated its capability of detecting illness. We tried different methods of magnetizing, observing or disregarding the distinction of the poles: both had the same effect. The poles are therefore a fiction whose only purpose is to assimilate the new magnetism to the traditional magnetism that is one of nature's phenomena. It is in this manner, that while proceeding in our investigation, we witnessed the disappearance, one after another, of the properties attributed to this supposed fluid, and that the whole theoretical construction, built on an imaginary basis, crumbled before our eyes.

Forced to give up on physical proof, we were obliged to look for the causes of the real effects in their psychological circumstances. In the next stage of our proceedings, we ceased being physicists in order to be solely philosophers; and we submitted to examination the inclinations of the mind and the ideas of individuals exposed to the effects of magnetism. In studying blindfolded subjects, we clearly witnessed the source of this action in the ideas that we stirred up, and the effects followed the same pace as our questions. Without magnetizing, the effects were the same, and reacted identically to our questions.

We were forced to recognize that these various effects, independent of magnetism, were due to the influence of the imagination; however, in the psychological investigation where the nature of the question led us, we followed as much as possible the assured and methodical march of the sciences. Observing as philosophers, we nonetheless borrowed techniques from physics. We proceeded as one does in chemistry, where, after having analyzed the substances, and discovered their elements, one verifies the exactitude of the analysis by recomposing the same substances using the resulting elements. We have stated: the effects attributed to magnetism, and to a fluid which is not manifest anywhere, only occur when the imagination is forewarned and can be struck. The imagination seems therefore to be the cause of these effects. It remained to be seen if these effects could be reproduced by the imagination alone. We tried this, and we completely succeeded. Without touching and without using any gestures, the subjects who believed themselves magnetized felt pain, heat, and [then] a very intense heat. In subjects endowed with more excitable nerves, we produced convulsions and what are called crises. We witnessed the imagination so excited become so powerful so as to cause people to lose their voice in an instant. We disproved the existence of magnetism at the same time, in opposing it to imagination. Magnetism by itself, used for thirty minutes, produced no results; at the same time, an active imagination produced a very strong and well-characterized convulsion in the same person, using the same means, in absolutely similar circumstances. Finally, to conclude the demonstration, to complete the table of the effects of the imagination, which is equally capable of agitating and calming, we stopped the convulsion by the same enchantment that produced it, by the power of imagination.

If we did not conduct experiments on animals which are considered to lack imagination, it is because the experiments would have been more difficult and delicate without being any more conclusive. First of all, curing the illnesses of animals does not prove anything more than does curing men's illnesses; and when we would limit ourselves to temporary effects on animals, how would we know what they feel? Unable to interrogate them, their movements could only be ambiguous. Anyhow, a substantial reason to reject this type of proof is that there are claims of a universal fluid, a fluid which affects man and which is suited to heal his illnesses. It would be odd that to boast of its beneficial effects on humans, while only being able to make these effects visible in animals. It is thus on man that we had to investigate the effects of magnetism, and by our experiments we discovered only the power of imagination. We proceeded by negative proofs, and this method was determined by the nature of things. An opinion is attacked and defended by opposite ways. A real agent must be demonstrated by positive proof, while a fictive agent can only be excluded by the lack of effects and by the demonstration of its nonexistence.

The range of experiments that we conducted has allowed us to conclude and establish that there is no proof for the existence of an animal magnetic fluid. Rational physics does not allow recourse to an unknown and imperceptible fluid to explain effects which can all be produced either by the imagination alone or combined with contact and imitation.

These are the causes of the effects attributed to magnetism; this is the result of our work. However, the observed phenomena lead to some conclusions which we shall propose. These conclusions have to do with imitation and imagination, two of our most astounding faculties: this is data for a science which is still brand new, the science of the influence of the psychological on the physical. We ask to be permitted to make a few preliminary and purely philosophical remarks in this respect.

Psychological man, like physical man, exists and becomes only what he is by these two faculties: he is formed and perfected by imitation; he acts and becomes powerful by the imagination. Imitation is thus the first means of his perfectibility; it permits his evolution from birth until his death. Without imitation, one individual's progress would be useless for all others: it is by imitation that, in polite and civilized society, character traits disappear, and all individuals display the same physiognomy. It is by imitation that children learn our practices, our conventions, that they conform to our customs and learn our language. This same faculty causes pronunciation to be softened by long practice. Imitation acts equally on the mind; it does not introduce new truths, but preserves common knowledge. It forms and constitutes the national character, and because it so often causes belief without prior examination, it is by the irresistible power of imitation that prejudices are founded, which have such a long life and such powerful resistance.

With this faculty, everything would stay the same, everything would be passed on, but our knowledge and institutions would never progress to higher levels. Imagination is the progressive faculty; it is by imagination that man has passed through the different states of society as it becomes more perfect. An eminently active faculty, the author of rights and wrongs, everything lies before it, the future as well as the present, the worlds of the universe as well as the place where we stand. Imagination causes all that it touches to grow; it proceeds by constantly amplifying, and this amplification is the source of its power. It is by this power that imagination can deploy ethical resources and multiply physical powers: nature obeys its voice entirely, and develops its full range accordingly. Thus when imagination speaks to the multitude, the multitude no longer recognizes any danger or obstacle. One man alone commands, and the others are nothing but instruments. Nations are whatever their Sovereigns want, armies are whatever their Generals want; this has been known to be true from Alexander to Frederick and his illustrious brother.

Imitation, such as we have just described it, gentlemen, appears to have a slow and gradual pace; it establishes itself by repeated lessons: but while in society, imitation has made imperceptible progress, in the therapy of magnetism it manifests itself by striking behavior. It produces seizures which grow in number as they become more violent; all of them begin together at about the same time. It is as if it were a spark that starts a fire. This contagiousness is quite remarkable. We knew that man, machine-like in a great number of his movements, eventually conforms and repeats what he sees and hears; but the convulsions of magnetism show us that the same effect occurs instantaneously, on a large scale, so that a number of appropriately disposed individuals act as instruments in unison, one of which making the others move.

As for the imagination, we know what sort of disorders can be caused by a sudden and vivid impression in the machine we call man. Imagination renews or suspends the animal functions; it strengthens with hope, or it freezes with terror. In one night, it can turn a head of hair white; in an instant it can restore the use of a pair of legs or a voice. It destroys or cultivates illness's germs; it can even bring death. But these surprising effects are due to sudden reversals. It is a combination of circumstances which brings them, and chance which seems to produce them; they do not seem to depend on man's power or will. What we have learned, or at least what has been confirmed in a clear and convincing manner, in our investigation of the methods of magnetism is that man can act upon man, at any moment and almost at will, by striking at his imagination. The simplest gestures and signals can have the most powerful effects; man's power over the imagination can be reduced to an art and guided by a method to influence those who believe in it. People speak of intentional magnetism: doubtless intention can suffice, as long as it is reciprocal; it establishes a necessary relation and dependence between two people. The intention which I guide, I control by my imagination; the intention which responds to me corresponds to an entranced, obedient imagination. The search for a non-existent agent thus serves to reveal a real power in man: the power to act upon his kinsman, to perturb his nervous system, and to induce convulsions in him. But this action cannot be regarded as physical; we do not see how it depends on a communicable fluid. This action is entirely psychological: it is that of the imagination acting on imagination. It is an action which is almost always dangerous, which one can observe as a philosopher, and which is good to know about solely to prevent its effects.

Magnetism will not have been completely useless to philosophy, which condemns it; it is one more fact to consign to the history of the human mind's errors, as well as a great experiment on the power of the imagination.