the animal on the ground, where after many cries and violent struggling it became quiet, "as if," he says, "despairing of escape through the fruitlessness of its motions, it gave itself up to the will of its conqueror." Then Kircher drew a chalk-line in a diagonal direction from one eye to the other, loosened the ribbon, and the hen, although left perfectly free, remained immovable, even when he attempted to rouse it.
Therefore Kircher affirms that the hen thinks the chalk-line a string by which it is bound as at its feet, notwithstanding that the ribbon has been loosened. This he attributes to the force of the animal's imagination.
In this way Kircher reports something which never took place, although his confirmation partakes of reality. He also places his assertions in that fatal category of "events viewed unequally," which plays such an important rôle in the history of human error.
As soon as I had recovered from my extreme astonishment at the magical effect which I perceived at the first experiment I made, I immediately rubbed out the chalk-line. My astonishment, mingled with satisfaction, returned for a moment, as I saw the hen remain motionless although the chalk had entirely disappeared. The chalk-line appeared just as unnecessary as at the first and following experiments. Certainly this might have resulted from an after-effect of the line. In order to inspect this more clearly, I performed my experiment so that I held the hen firmly for some time, and stretched out the head and neck as if I were going to draw the chalk-line, bat in reality did not do it. And lo! the hen remained just as immovable as if the line had really been there!
It is therefore an actual fact that the chalk-line and ribbon are entirely unnecessary. What Kircher affirms relating to the imagination of the hens in regarding the chalk-line as a band which holds them, is only an "event viewed unequally," consequently no event at all. Observe that the only actual fact in Kircher's report is the motionless condition of the hen after the line has been drawn. While he takes this temporal coincidence without further investigation for an actual event caused by the hen's power of imagination, he reports a circumstance which really never happened, at least not in the way he thinks.
Through my simplified arrangement, without either chalk or string I have not only placed hens in this stupefied condition, but also geese, ducks, turkeys, and even a timid, unruly swan. This state makes the animals incapable of escaping, or even of changing their forced positions. This strange condition lasts often for a minute, indeed, frequently a quarter of an hour and longer, and is so intense that the animals can only be roused after repeated blows. Yes, the animals—as you have seen yourselves—can be turned over on their backs without awaking or showing the least resistance. When they are thus
