Such is the constitution of the human mind, that it never attains to
perfection; it is constantly susceptible of erroneous impressions and
perverse propensities. The faculties of the soul are bound in thraldom
by superstition, and the intellect, under its influence, is scarcely
capable of reflecting on its divine origin, its nobleness and dignity.
The mind that is imbued with a superstitious temperament, is liable to
incessant torment, and is prepared to inflict the most atrocious evils
on mankind; even murder, suicide, and merciless persecution, have
proceeded from, and been sanctioned by a superstitious spirit. It is
this, in its most appalling aspect, which impels the heathen to a life
of mutilation and perpetual pain and torment of body, which degrades
the understanding below that of a brute. The superstitions practised
by the devotees to the Roman Catholic Church, if less horrible, are
equally preposterous and pernicious. The popular belief in
supernatural visitations in the form of apparitions and spectres, is
fostered and encouraged by the baneful influence of superstition and
prejudice. So universal has been the prevalence of the belief that
those conversant with history can resort to the era when every village
had its ghost or witch, as, in more ancient times, every family had
its household gods. Superstition, is a word of very extensive
signification, but for the purpose of this work, the word applies to
those who believe in witchcraft, magic, and apparitions, or that the
divine will is decided by omens or auguries; that the fortune of
individuals can be affected by things indifferent, by things deemed
lucky or unlucky, or that disease can be cured by words, charms, and
incantations. It means, in short, the belief of what is false and
contrary to reason. Superstition arises from, and is sustained by
ignorance and credulity in the understanding. The subject of
supernatural agency and the reality of witchcraft, has been the
occasion of unbounded speculation, and of much philosophical
disquisition, in almost all nations and ages. While some of the wisest
of men have assented to their actual existence and visible appearance,
others equally eminent have maintained the opinion that the supposed
apparitions are to be accounted for on the principle of feverish
dreams and disturbed imaginations. That our Creator has power to
employ celestial spirits as instruments and messengers, and to create
supernatural visions on the human mind, it would be impious to deny.
But we can conceive of no necessity, at the present day, for the
employment of disembodied spirits in our world; we can hold no
intercourse with them, nor realize the slightest advantage by their
agency. To believe in apparitions is to believe that God suspends the
law of nature for the most trivial purposes, and that he would
communicate the power of doing mischief, and of controling his laws to
beings, merely to gratify their own passions, which is inconsistent
with the goodness of God. We are sufficiently aware that the sacred
spirits of our fathers have ascended to regions prepared for
their reception, and there may they remain undisturbed till the mighty
secrets now concealed shall be revealed for our good. The soul or
spirit of man is immaterial, of course intangible and invisible. If it
is not recognisable by our senses, how can the dead appear to the
living? That disembodied spirits should communicate with surviving
objects on earth, that the ghosts of the murdered should appear to
disclose the murderer, or that the spirit of the wise and good should
return to proffer instructions to the vile and ignorant, must be
deemed unphilosophical.
It will now be attempted to demonstrate, that the generality of the
supposed apparitions, in modern times, will admit of explanation from
causes purely natural. For this purpose, it will be requisite first,
to describe the system of nerves, and their functions, which
constitute a part of our complicated frames. Nerves are to be
considered as a tissue of strings or cords, which have their origin in
the brain and spinal marrow, and are distributed in branches to all
parts of the body. They are the immediate organs of sensation and of
muscular action. Upon the integrity of the nerves, all the senses,
both external and internal, entirely depend. The nerves are the medium
of illusions; their influence pervades the whole body, and their
various impressions are transmitted to the brain. When the entire
brain is affected, delirium is the consequence; if the optic nerve
only, visions disturb the imagination; if the acoustic nerves receive
the impression, unreal sounds or voices are heard. If the optic nerves
are cut or rendered paralytic, the sense of vision is irrecoverably
destroyed. The nervous system is liable to be diseased and deranged
from various causes, from which, it is obvious, derangement of both
body and mind must ensue. The following is extracted from a lecture on
Moral Philosophy, by the learned and Reverend Samuel Stanhope Smith,
D. D., late President of the College of New Jersey.
'The nerves are easily excited into movement by an infinite variety of
external impulses, or internal agitations. By whatever impulse any
motion, vibration, or affection, in the nervous system is produced, a
correspondent sensation, or train of sensations, or ideas in the mind,
will naturally follow. When the body is in regular health, and the
operations of the mind are in a natural and healthful train, the
action of the nervous system, being affected only by the regular and
successive impressions made upon it by the objects of nature, as they
successively occur, will present to the mind just and true images of
the scenes that surround it. But by various species of infirmity and
disorder in the body, the nerves, sometimes in their entire system,
and sometimes only in those divisions of them which are attached to
particular organs of sense, may be subjected to very irregular motions
or vibrations. Hence unreal images may be raised in the mind. The
state of the nervous affections may be vitiated by intemperate
indulgence, or by infirmity resulting from sedentary and melancholy
habits. Superstitions, fancies, or enthusiastic emotions, do often
greatly disturb the regular action of the nervous system. Such elastic
and vibratory strings may be subject to an infinite variety of
irregular movements, sometimes in consequence of a disordered state of
health, and sometimes arising from peculiarity of constitutional
structure, which may present false and often fantastic images to the
mind. No cause, perhaps, produces a more anomalous oscitancy, or
vibration of the nervous system, or of some particular portions of it,
than habits of intemperate indulgence. And I have not unfrequently
become acquainted with men who had been addicted to such excesses, who
were troubled with apprehensions of supernatural apparitions. A
peculiar imbecility of constitution, however, created by study,
retirement, or other causes, may be productive of similar effects, and
sometimes these nervous anomalies are formed in men who are otherwise
of active and athletic constitutions. But where they possess
enlightened minds and vigorous understandings, such visionary
tendencies may be counteracted by their intellectual energies. Yet
have we sometimes known the strongest understandings overcome by the
vivacity of nervous impression, which frequently is scarcely inferior
to the most lively ideas of sense. This may, especially, be the case
in two opposite conditions; either when the body has fallen into a
gloomy temperament, and the mind is weakened by fears, in which case
it is oppressed by distressing apprehensions; or, on the other hand,
when the nerves, the primary organs, of sensation, are strained into
an unnatural tension, and the whole system is exalted by an
enthusiastic fervor to the pitch of delirious intoxication. When a man
is exalted to such a degree of nervous excitement and mental feeling,
his visions are commonly pleasing, often rapturous, and sometimes
fantastic; but generally rise above the control or correction of the
judgment. Lord Lyttleton, in the vision which he believed he saw of
his deceased mother's form, shortly before his own death, may be an
example of the former; and the Baron Von Swedenborg, in his supposed
visions, sometimes of angels and sometimes of reptiles, may be an
instance of the latter. Persons, whose fancies have been much
disturbed in early life, by the tales of nurses, and other follies of
an injudicious education, creating a timid and superstitious mind, are
more especially liable to have their fears alarmed and their
imagination excited by every object in the dark. Whence sounds will be
augmented to the ear, and images rendered more glaring to the eyes.'
In a note, the learned author presents the following examples,
tending to illustrate the principles just advanced.
'I knew, some years ago, a worthy lady who, anxiously watching by the
cradle of a sick infant, and momently expecting its death, felt, as
she believed, just before it expired, a violent stroke across the back
of both her arms. From a tincture of superstitious apprehension
infused in her early education, and unacquainted with any natural
cause of such a phenomenon, she construed it into a preternatural
signal of the death of her child. It was, probably, a sudden and
convulsive contraction of the muscles in that part of the system,
occasioned by the solicitude of her mind and the fatigue of watching,
which, aided by imagination in a very interesting moment, produced a
shock that had to her the feeling of a severe concussion. That a
convulsive contraction should take place in those particular muscles
need not appear strange to those who know how irregular and uncertain
is the whole train of nervous action, especially under the operation
of some disorders of the body; and frequently, under the influence of
strong affections and emotions of the mind.' 'A young lady, who was
peculiarly susceptible of the impressions of fear in the dark, or at
the sight of any of the accompaniments of death, attended the funeral
of one of her intimate companions, who had died of the small pox. On
the following night she lodged in company with a female friend of
great firmness of mind. Waking in the night, some time after the moon
had risen, and faintly enlightened her chamber, the first object that
struck her view was a white robe hanging on the tall back of a chair,
and a cap placed on the top. Her disturbed imagination instantly took
the alarm, and in her agitation and terror rousing her companion, she
exclaimed violently that her deceased friend was standing before her.
The lady, with great presence of mind, brought the articles of
clothing which had caused the alarm, and thus composed her fears.
After she had become tranquil and was able distinctly to recall her
sensations, she declared that the perfect image of the deceased, just
as she was dressed for her coffin seemed to be before her sight. She
contemplated it as long as her fears would permit her, before she
exclaimed. She was sure that she recognised every feature of her
friend, and even the pits of the small pox, of which she died, in her
face. And she affirmed that before any tribunal she would have been
willing to make oath to this fact.' 'I have introduced this anecdote,'
says Dr Smith, 'merely to illustrate the power of the imagination by
its reaction on the nervous system, to complete the pictures that any
sudden impulses of the senses, occasioned by surprise or by
superstitious or enthusiastic feeling, have begun to form. It is not a
solitary anecdote of the kind. But I have selected it, because I am
more perfectly possessed of the circumstances, than of many others
that are circulated through certain classes of society. Nor are these
classes always to be found among the most ignorant and credulous.'
Lord Lyttleton was a man of splendid abilities, but degraded himself
by a continued course of profligacy and the basest dissipation. He was
arrested in his career by a sudden and remarkable death, at the age of
thirtyfive in the year 1779. The various narrations that have been
published relative to this singular event concur in most of the
following particulars. Three days previous to his death, being in
perfect health, he was warned in a dream or vision of the event,
which, accordingly, took place without any previous illness. According
to his own account, he awoke from sleep, and saw the image of his
deceased mother, who opened the curtains of his bed and denounced to
him, that in three days he should die. On the sentence being
denounced, he started up in great terror, incoherently saying, 'what!
shall I not live three days?' The reply was, no, you will not live
more than three days, and the apparition instantly vanished. This
alarming vision his lordship related, at breakfast the next morning,
to several women who were his companions. They fell a crying; but he,
although secretly agitated, pretended to disregard the affair, laughed
at their credulous folly, and professed to have no sort of belief, or
apprehension about it. On the third day of the prediction, he invited
Admiral Woolsey and another friend to dine with him, at his country
seat. At dinner, his lordship, appeared more than usually loquacious
and desultory in his conversation, reciting the probable remarks that
would of course be made whenever the news of his death should be
announced. In the evening, perceiving his female companions in a
gloomy mood, he took one of them and danced a minuet with her, then
taking out his watch, said, 'Look you here, it is now nine o'clock,
according to the vision I have but three hours to live, but don't you
mind this, madam; never fear, we'll jocky the ghost, I warrant you.'
At eleven o'clock he retired to bed earlier than usual with him, but
his pretence was, that he had planned for the party to breakfast
early, and spend the day in riding into the country. Admiral Woolsey
and his friend resolved to sit in the parlor till the predicted hour
was past, and the clock was privately put a little forward, and as
soon as it struck twelve, his lordship said, 'you see I have cheated
the ghost;' but soon after a voice was heard from the staircase,
uttering these words. 'He's dead? Oh, my lord is dead!' Instantly
running up stairs, they found him in bed, fallen back, and struggling.
Admiral Woolsey took his hand, which was grasped with such violence
that it was painful to endure, but he spake no more. His eyes were
turned up and fixed. They opened the jugular vein, but no blood
issued, and he was entirely dead at midnight of the third day.
Admiral Woolsey gives the following remarkable particulars in
addition. At the distance of thirty miles from the place where this
melancholy scene happened there lived a gentlemen, one of the intimate
companions of Lord Lyttleton, M. P. Andrews, Esq.; and they had agreed
that whichever of them should die first, the survivor should receive
one thousand pounds from the estate of the deceased. On this very
night he awoke about one o'clock and rung his bell with great
violence. His servant ran to him with all speed, and inquired, 'what
is the matter?' The gentleman sitting up in bed, with a countenance
full of horror, cried out, 'Oh John! Lord Lyttleton is dead!' 'How can
that be?' he replied, 'we have heard nothing, but that he is alive and
well.' The master exclaimed with the greatest perturbation, 'no, no, I
awoke just now on hearing the curtains undrawn, and at the foot of the
bed stood Lord Lyttleton, as plain as ever I saw him in my life. He
looked ghastly, and said, "all is over with me, Andrews. You have won
the thousand pounds," and vanished.' After attending to the
particulars above detailed, it would seem to require a philosophical
firmness to resist the impression in favor of supernatural
visitations; but this latter instance will, I believe, bear a
different explanation. The gentleman was apprised of Lyttleton's
vision and predicted death, which, with the thousand pounds depending,
must have excited in his mind an exquisite degree of anxiety, and
roused a guilty conscience. He doubtless counted every hour, and
although he fell asleep, could not be calm, and probably had a
disturbed dream. Awaking suddenly, it is quite natural that he should
have the impression, that the prediction was fulfilled. Dr Smith, who
is quoted above, comments as follows on the death of Lord Lyttleton.
His lordship was a man who had worn down to a very feeble state, a
lively and elastic constitution, and impaired a brilliant wit, by
voluptuous, and intemperate excesses. A few days before his death, he
imagined that he saw before him the perfect resemblance of his
deceased mother, who denounced to him that on such a day, and at a
prescribed hour, he should die. Under a constrained vivacity, his
mind, during the interval, was evidently much agitated. And on the
predicted day, and at the prescribed time, he actually expired.
This fact has been regarded by many persons, and those by no means of
inferior understandings, as a decisive proof of the reality of
apparitions from the spiritual world; and by others has been attempted
to be resolved on a variety of different grounds. The principles
already suggested, may, perhaps, serve to explain it in conformity
with the known laws of human nature, if the theory of nervous
vibration be admitted to be true, without resorting to the solution of
supernatural agents. The irregular and convulsive motions in the
nervous system which frequently arise from long continued habits of
intemperate indulgence, might be especially expected in a constitution
so irritable and debilitated, as that of Lord Lyttleton. If, either
sleeping or waking, or, in that indefinite interval between sleeping
and waking, their disordered movements could present to the fancy or
excite in the visual nerves, the distinct image of a living person
apparently resuscitated from the dead, which has been shown to be a
possible case, the debilitated frame of his lordship, agitated as it
must have often been, by the conscious apprehension of his
approaching end, may naturally be supposed to have predisposed them to
such a vision. Conscience, notwithstanding his assumed gayety,
somewhat perturbed by the fears of death, and with a recollection of a
pious mother, whose anxious admonitions had often endeavored in vain
to recall him from his vices, and to fix his thoughts on his future
existence, might naturally retrace her features in this formidable
vision. It is not improbable, that the whole scene may have been a
kind of waking dream, or if it was wholly transacted in sleep, it
might have been with such a forcible and vivid vibration, or impulse
of the nerves concerned in the formation of such an image, as would
give it the distinctness and vivacity of waking sensation. In the
tumult of his spirits, and the fear-excited vibrations of his whole
system, it is not strange, that the image of that disappointed and
reproaching parent should be presented to him, with a solemn and
foreboding aspect. And it would be adding only one trait of terror to
the scene, already so well prepared to admit it, and one that is
perfectly conformable to our experience of the desultory images of
dreaming, as well as what we have learned of similar visionary
impressions--that a particular period should be denounced to him for
his death, the symptoms and presages of which, in all probability, he
frequently felt in the tremors and palpitation of a breaking
constitution. The principal difficulty in the minds of those who have
only carelessly attended to this history, is to account for the exact
correspondence of the event of his death to the time fixed by the
prediction, if it had no other foundation than nervous impression. The
imagined prediction itself was sufficient, in a debilitated and
exhausted constitution, like that of Lord Lyttleton, to produce its
own accomplishment. Seizing upon his fears, in spite of his reason and
philosophy, for a life of dissipation and sensual excess generally
very much weakens the powers both of the mind and of the body, it
would naturally throw his whole system into great commotion. These
perturbed and tumultuous agitations would increase as the destined
moment approached, till the strength of nature failing, may well be
supposed to break at the point of extreme convulsion; that is, at the
expected moment of death.
To a case analogous, in many respects, to that of his lordship, there
are many witnesses still living in the city of Philadelphia. The
contrast in the issue of the latter, serves to confirm the solution
which has just been given of the former. Mr Edwards, a clergyman of
the Baptist persuasion in that city, of a tendency somewhat addicted
to melancholy in his habit, but, otherwise of a vigorous constitution,
had, like Lord Lyttleton, a visual impression, so clear and distinctly
defined, that he mistook it for a supernatural messenger from the
spiritual world to announce to him that at the end of a certain
period, he should die. He was so persuaded of the reality of the
vision, and the verity of the prediction, that he took leave of his
particular friends, and of his congregation, before the appointed day.
On the evening of this day, I saw his house filled with spectators and
inquirers, awaiting with solicitude the catastrophe of this
extraordinary affair. The tumult of his whole system, his difficult
respiration, his quick and tremulous pulse, and its frequent
intermissions, led many to announce, at various times during that
evening, to the surrounding spectators, that he was just expiring.
And without doubt, if his frame had been as weak and delicate as his
nervous system, he could not have survived the agitations, and, I may
say, almost convulsions, into which he was thrown. And here would have
been another prediction, and another supernatural appearance, as
extraordinary as those of Lord Lyttleton. But his constitution
triumphed, and he remained a monument to prove the force of nervous
illusion, which, in this case, as doubtless it has proved in many
others, appears to have given birth to an image as clear and definite
as could have been produced by the actual presence of such an object
as was supposed to have created it. I would hardly have ventured to
relate such an anecdote, if there were not ample testimony to its
verity still existing. The good man was so ashamed of his delusion,
and it so much lessened his credit with his spiritual flock, that he
was obliged to leave the city, and the church where he had formerly
been highly esteemed, and retire to a remote position in the country.
Many anecdotes to confirm the reality of _nervous sensation_, if I may
apply that phrase to designate those _sensible perceptions_ which are
sometimes caused in the mind, without the presence or aid of external
objects, must have occurred to those who have had extensive
opportunities of practically observing human nature. With several
persons I have been acquainted, and those by no means of inferior
understanding, who have been firmly persuaded of the existence of the
spectres indicated by such nervous affections, and have, on such
occasions, held conversations with them, real on their part, imaginary
on the part of the supposed spectre. Such, perhaps, in general, are
the disciples of the Baron Von Swedenborg. But illusions of this
nature are not confined to this class of men alone.