E.S.P.
Extra Sensory Perception
by
J. B. Rhine, Ph.D.
edited by
Adolph Caso
Copyright 1997, 2011 J. B. Rhine, Ph.D.,
All rights reserved.
Published in eBook format by Branden Books
Converted by http://www.eBookIt.com
Library of Congress Catalogue Card Number: 64-21051
Print Edition: ISBN 0828314640
ISBN-13: 978-0-8283-2288-1
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
ILLUSTRATIONS
A. J. Linzmayer, May Frances Turner, June Bailey,T. Coleman Cooper, C. E. Stuart, frontispiece
Hubert Pearce calling a pack of E.S.P. cards. TheRecording, 100
Scene of experiments in long-distance pure clairvoyanceby Pearce, supervised by Mr. Pratt, 100
Mr J. G. Pratt doing long-distance (B.T.) clairvoyance with Mr. Hubert Pearce, 104
Mr Zirkle doing pure telepathy with Miss. Ownbey as agent, 138
LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS
| E.S.P. | Extra-Sensory Perception. Perception without the function of the recognized senses. |
| P.T. | Pure telepathy; that is, extra-sensory perception of the mental processes of another person. ‘Pure’ refers to the absence of objective representation of the mental act or image, which might permit of clairvoyance by the percipient. |
| P.C. | Pure clairvoyance; extra-sensory perception of objective facts. Pure’ refers to the elimination of telepathy from the experimental situation. |
| B.T. | Clairvoyant card calling, with shuffled and cut pack of 25 cards placed face down before the percipient. He calls the top card and the call is recorded and the card removed. After 5 calls, or after the entire 25, the calls are checked against the inverted pile of called cards. B.T.-5 represents the condition of checking after every 5 calls; B.T.-25, after the whole pack. |
| D.T. | Clairvoyant card calling, with the cut pack of cards remaining unopened until after the 25 calls are made. Calling 'down through5, without removing the card called until the end of the run of 25. |
| D or Dev. | Deviation from mean chance expectation (np). |
| np | Number of trials multiplied by the probability of succeeding on each trial, which gives the mean chance expectation. (This and the following abbreviations are more fully explained in the Appendix to Chapter II) |
| p.e. | Probable Error of np. This is the deviation from up at which the odds are even that it was or was not due to mere chance. |
| X | This is the value of the deviation divided by the p.e. When the deviation is 4 times the p.e. (X=4) or more, the deviation is regarded as ‘significant', i.e. reliably showing a principle beyond ‘chance’ activity. |
FOREWORD
By Professor William McDougall
The work reported in this volume is the first fruit of the policy of naturalization of ‘psychical research’ within the universities. It goes far to justify that policy; to show, first, that a university may provide conditions that will greatly facilitate and promote this most difficult branch of science; secondly, that the university may benefit from such liberal extension of its field of studies. On the former head I will say nothing; it is for the instructed public to judge of the value of this work. On the second head I may properly testify here that, to the best of my judgment, the group of students who have taken part in this work have reaped in a high degree the chief benefits which scientific research has to offer, namely, discipline in careful experiment and observation, and in logical thinking, practice in faithful co-operation, and the gratification of pushing back the bounds of knowledge, in this case in a field of peculiar difficulty and significance. There has been no hysteria, no undue excitement, among this group of students, nor has this work unduly preoccupied their minds to the detriment of other activities.
Though it would be unseemly for me to pronounce upon the value of this work, I may properly say a few words to help the reader to form his estimate of it. On reading any report of observations in the field of psychic research, invariably there rises in my mind the question—What manner of man is this who so reports? And I find that my estimate of the validity and value of the report depends very largely upon the answer to that question. A report may appear to be above serious criticism; and yet a brief acquaintance with its author may suffice to deprive it (for me, at least) of all claim to serious consideration or, on the other hand, may convince me that its statements must (provisionally at least) be accepted at their full face value. I do not stop to explain or to justify this attitude of mine. I believe it is well justified and to be very general among all who are interested in this field. There- fore I may assume that readers of this report who have no personal acquaintance with the author will welcome a few words from me about him and some of his collaborators, while the author, recognizing the purity of my motive, will pardon my intrusion on his privacy.
In introducing Dr Joseph Banks Rhine to the reader, I must premise that almost all I have to say of him is true also of Dr Louisa E. Rhine, his wife. Both have taken their doctorates in biology at the University of Chicago, both had begun promising careers as university teachers of biology, and both have resigned these. When Dr J. B. Rhine burnt his boats, gave up his career in biology and came over to psychology and psychical research, it was with the full consent, endorsement, and parallel action of his wife—a unique and remarkable event in the history of this subject. For the Rhines are no monied amateurs. They are working scientists without worldly resources other than their earnings. When the facts became known to me I was filled with admiration and misgiving. Their action seemed to me magnificently rash. I had always plumed myself on indifference to worldly considerations; but here was a young couple who made me seem small, made me seem to myself a cautious, nay, a timid worldling. Nor was this action prompted by some over- whelming emotional and personal interest, such as the desire to make contact with some lost loved one. The motivation was, so far as I could and still can judge, the desire to work in the field that seemed to contain most promise of discoveries conducive to human welfare. Indeed, in this age when we erect monuments to the boll-weevil, send up prayers for drought, pest and plague, and are chiefly concerned to make one ear of wheat grow where two grew before, it is difficult to retain enthusiasm for botanical research, unless one is a scientist of the peculiarly inhuman type.
The action filled me, I say, not only with admiration but also with misgiving; for it appeared that I was in some measure unwittingly responsible. The Rhines, in pondering the question—What is most worth doing? To what cause can we give ourselves?—had come upon my Body and Mind and upon others of my writings, especially my plea for Psychical Research as a University Study (A lecture included in the Symposium published by the Clark University Press in 1926, The Case for and against Psychical Research, and reprinted