future eminence. As the scholars of Rubens were playing and jesting with
each other, in the absence of their master, one of them was accidentally
thrown against a piece on which Rubens had just been working, and a
considerable part of it was entirely disfigured. Another of the pupils
set himself immediately to repair it, and completed the design before
his master returned. Rubens, on reviewing his work, observed a change,
and a difference that surprised and embarrassed him. At last, suspecting
that some one had been busy, he demanded an explanation; adding, that
the execution was in so masterly a manner, that he would pardon the
impertinence on account of its merit. Encouraged by this declaration,
the young artist confessed, and explained the whole, pleading, that his
officiousness was merely to screen a comrade from his master’s anger.
Rubens answered, “if any one of my scholars shall excel me, it will be
yourself.” This pupil was the great Vandyck.
Lavater, who revived physiognomy, has, unquestionably, brought it to
great perfection. But it may justly be doubted whether he is not
deceived in thinking that it may be taught like other sciences, and
whether there is not much in his system that is whimsical and unfounded.
Every man, however, has by nature, something of the science, and nothing
is more common than to suspect the man who never looks his neighbour in
the face. There is a degree of cunning in such characters, which is
always dangerous, but by no means new. “There is a wicked man that
hangeth down his head sadly; but inwardly he is full of deceit. Casting
down his countenance, and making as if he heard not. A man may be known
by his look, and one that hath understanding, by his countenance, when
thou meetest him.”—In several of Lavater’s aphorisms, something like the
following occurs: “A man’s attire, and excessive laughter, and gait,
shew what he is.”
APPARITIONS.
Partial darkness, or obscurity, are the most powerful means by which the
sight is deceived: night is therefore the proper season for apparitions.
Indeed the state of the mind, at that time, prepares it for the
admission of these delusions of the imagination. The fear and caution
which must be observed in the night; the opportunity it affords for
ambuscades and assassinations; depriving us of society, and cutting off
many pleasing trains of ideas, which objects in the light never fail to
introduce, are all circumstances of terror: and perhaps, on the whole,
so much of our happiness depends upon our senses, that the deprivation
of any one may be attended with a proportionate degree of horror and
uneasiness. The notions entertained by the ancients respecting the
_soul_, may receive some illustrations from these principles. In dark,
or twilight, the imagination frequently transforms an inanimate body
into a human figure; on approaching the same appearance is not to be
found: hence they sometimes fancied they saw their ancestors; but not
finding the reality, distinguished these illusions by the name of
_shades_.
Many of these fabulous narrations might originate from _dreams_. There
are times of slumber, when we are sensible of being asleep[38]. On this
principle, Hobbes has so ingeniously accounted for the spectre which is
said to have appeared to Brutus, that we cannot resist the temptation of
inserting it in his own words. “We read,” says he, “of M. Brutus, (one
that had his life given him by Julius Cæsar, and was also his favourite,
and notwithstanding murdered him) that at Philippi, the night before he
gave battle to Augustus Cæsar, he saw a fearful apparition, which is
commonly related by historians as a vision; but considering the
circumstances, one may easily judge it to have been but a short dream.
For, sitting in his tent, pensive and troubled with the horror of his
rash act, it was not hard for him, slumbering in the cold, to dream of
that which most affrighted him; which fear, as by degrees it made him
wake, so it must needs make the apparition by degrees to vanish: and
having no assurance that he slept, he could have no cause to think it a
dream, or any thing but a vision.”—The well-known story told by
Clarendon, of the apparition of the Duke of Buckingham’s father, will
admit of a similar solution. There was no man in the kingdom so much the
subject of conversation as the Duke; and, from the corruptness of his
character, he was very likely to fall a sacrifice to the enthusiasm of
the times. Sir George Viliers is said to have appeared to the man at
midnight—there is therefore the greatest probability that the man was
asleep; and the dream affrighting him, made a strong impression, and was
likely to be repeated.
It must be confessed, that the popular belief of departed spirits
occasionally holding a communication with the human race, is replete
with matter of curious speculation. Some Christian divines, with every
just reason, acknowledge no authentic source whence the impression of a
future state could ever have been communicated to man, but from the
Jewish prophets or from our Saviour himself. Yet it is certain, that a
belief in our existence after death has, from time immemorial, prevailed
in countries, to which the knowledge of the gospel could never have
extended, as among certain tribes of America. Can then this notion have
been intuitively suggested? Or is it an extravagant supposition, that
the belief might often have arisen from those spectral illusions, to
which men in every age, from the occasional influence of morbific
causes, must have been subject? And what would have been the natural
self-persuasion, if a savage saw before him the apparition of a departed
friend or acquaintance, endowed with the semblance of life, with motion,
and with signs of mental intelligence, perhaps even holding a converse
with him? Assuredly, the conviction would scarcely fail to arise of an
existence after death. The pages of history attest the fact that:—
“If ancestry can be in aught believ’d,
Descending spirits have convers’d with man,
And told him secrets of the world unknown.”
But if this opinion of a life hereafter, had ever among heathen nations
their origin, it must necessarily be imbued with the grossest
absurdities, incidental to so fallacious a source of intelligence. Yet
still the mind has clung to such extravagancies with avidity; “for,” as
Sir Thomas Brown has remarked, “it is the heaviest stone that melancholy
can throw at a man, to tell him that he is at the end of his nature; or
that there is no future state to come, unto which this seems
progressively and otherwise made in vain.” It has remained therefore for
the light of revelation alone, to impart to this belief the consistency
and conformation of divine truth, and to connect it with a rational
system of rewards and punishments.
From the foregoing remarks, we need not be surprised that a conviction
of the occasional appearance of ghosts or departed spirits, should, from
the remotest antiquity, have been a popular creed, not confined to any
distinct tribe or race of people. In Europe, it was the opinion of the
Greeks and Romans, that, after the dissolution of the body, every man
was possessed of three different kinds of ghosts, which were
distinguished by the names of Manes, Anima, and Umbra. These were
disposed of after the following manner: the Manes descended into the
infernal regions, the Anima ascended to the skies, and the Umbra hovered
about the tomb, as being unwilling to quit its connexion with the body.
Dido, for instance, when about to die, threatens to haunt Æneas with her
_umbra_; at the same time, she expects that the tidings of his
punishment will rejoin her _manes_ below[39].
The opinions regarding ghosts which were entertained during the
Christian era, but more particularly during the middle ages, are very
multifarious; yet these, with the authorities annexed to them, have been
most industriously collected by Reginald Scot. His researches are
replete with amusement and instruction. “And, first,” says he, “you
shall understand, that they hold, that all the soules in heaven may come
downe and appeare to us when they list, and assume anie bodie saving
their owne: otherwise (saie they) such soules should not be perfectlie
happie. They saie that you may know the good soules from the bad very
easilie. For a damned soule hath a very heavie and soure looke; but a
saint’s soule hath a cheerful and merrie countenance: these also are
white and shining, the other cole black. And these damned soules also
may come up out of hell at their pleasure, although Abraham made Dives
believe the contrarie. They affirme, that damned soules walke oftenest:
next unto them, the soules of purgatorie; and most seldom the soules of
saints. Also they saie, that in the old lawe soules did appeare seldom;
and after doomsdaie they shall never be seene more: in the time of grace
they shall be most frequent. The walking of these soules (saith Michael
Andræas) is a moste excellent argument for the proofe of purgatorie; for
(saith he) those soules have testified that which the popes have
affirmed in that behalfe; to wit, that there is not onelie such a place
of punishment, but that they are released from thence by masses, and
such other satisfactorie works, whereby the goodness of the masse is
also ratified and confirmed.
“These heavenlie or purgatorie soules (saie they) appeare most commonlie
to them that are borne upon Ember daies; because we are in best date at
that time to praie for the one, and to keepe companie with the other.
Also, they saie, that soules appeare oftenest by night; because men may
then be at best leisure, and most quiet. Also they never appeare to the
whole multitude, seldome to a few, and commonlie to one alone; for so
one may tell a lie without controlment. Also, they are oftenest seene by
them that are readie to die: as Thrasella saw Pope Fœlix; Ursine, Peter
and Paule; Galla Romana, S. Peter; and as Musa the maide sawe our Ladie:
which are the most certaine appearances, credited and allowed in the
church of Rome; also, they may be seene of some, and of some other in
that presence not seene at all; as Ursine saw Peter and Paule, and yet
manie at that instant being present could not see anie such sight, but
thought it a lie, as I do. Michael Andræas confesseth that papists see
more visions than Protestants: he saith also, that a good soule can take
none other shape than a man; manie a damned soule may and doth take the
shape of a blackmore, or of a beaste, or of a serpent, or speciallie of
an heretike.”
Such is the accounts which Scot has given regarding the Popish opinion
of departed spirits. In another part of his work, he triumphantly asks,
“Where are the soules that swarmed in time past? Where are the spirits?
Who heareth their noises? Who seeth their visions? Where are the soules
that made such mone for trentals, whereby to be eased of their pains in
purgatorie? Are they all gone to Italie, because masse are growne deere
here in England?—The whole course may be perceived to be a false
practice, and a counterfeit vision, or rather a lewd invention. For in
heaven men’s soules remaine not in sorrow and care, neither studie they
there how to compasse and get a worshipfull burial here in earth. If
they did they would not have foreslowed so long. Now, therefore, let us
not suffer ourselves to be abused anie longer, either with conjuring
priests, or meloncholicall witches; but be thankfull to God that hath
delivered us from such blindness and error[40].” This is the
congratulation of a true Protestant at an early period of the
reformation; and it is certain, that with the disbelief of that future
state of purgatory, taught by the Romish church, the communication of
the living with the dead became less frequent. Still, however, some
belief of the kind prevailed, though less tinctured with superstition.
An author, styling himself Theophilus Insulanus, who, half a century
ago, wrote on the second-sight of Scotland, affixes the term
_irreligious_ to those who should entertain a doubt on the reality of
apparitions of departed souls. “Such ghostly visitants,” he gravely
affirms, “are not employed on an errand of a frivolous concern to lead
us into error, but are employed as so many heralds by the great Creator,
for the more ample demonstration of his power, to proclaim tidings for
our instruction; and, as we are prone to despond in religious matter, to
confirm our faith of the existence of spirits, (the foundation of all
religions,) and the dignity of human nature.” With due deference,
however, to this anonymous writer, whom we should scarcely have noticed,
if he had not echoed in this assertion an opinion which was long
popular, we shall advert to the opposite sentiments expressed on the
subject by a far more acute, though less serious author. The notion, for
instance, of the solemn character of ghosts, and that they are never
employed on frivolous errands, is but too successfully ridiculed by
Grose[41]. “In most of the relations of ghosts,” says this pleasant
writer, “they are supposed to be mere aërial beings without substance,
and that they can pass through walls and other solid bodies at pleasure.
The usual time at which ghosts make their appearance is midnight, and
seldom before it is dark; though some audacious spirits have been said
to appear even by daylight. Ghosts commonly appear in the same dress
they usually wore when living: though they are sometimes clothed all in
white; but that is chiefly the church-yard ghosts, who have no
particular business, but seem to appear _pro bono publico_, or to scare
drunken rustics from tumbling over their graves. I cannot learn that
ghosts carry tapers in their hands, as they are sometimes depicted,
though the room in which they appear, if without fire or candle, is
frequently said to be as light as day. Dragging chains is not the
fashion of English ghosts; chains and black vestments being chiefly the
accoutrements of foreign spectres, seen in arbitrary governments: dead
or alive, English spirits are free. If, during the time of an
apparition, there is a lighted candle in the room, it will burn
extremely blue: this is so universally acknowledged, that many eminent
philosophers have busied themselves in accounting for it, without ever
doubting the truth of the fact. Dogs too have the faculty of seeing
spirits[42].”
There are several other minute particulars respecting ghosts given by
this author, for the insertion of which we have not room; yet it would
be inexcusable to omit noticing the account which he has subjoined, of
the awfully momentous errands upon which spirits are sent. “It is
somewhat remarkable,” he adds, “that ghosts do not go about their
business like the persons of this world. In cases of murder, a ghost,
instead of going to the next justice of peace, and laying its
information, or to the nearest relation of the person murdered, appears
to some poor labourer who knows none of the parties; draws the curtain
of some decrepit nurse, or alms-woman; or hovers about the place where
the body is deposited. The same circuitous road is pursued with respect
to redressing injured orphans or widows; when it seems as if the most
certain way would be to go to the person guilty of the injustice, and
haunt him continually till he be terrified into a restitution. Nor are
the pointing out lost writings generally managed in a more summary way;
the ghost commonly applying to a third person, ignorant of the whole
affair, and a stranger to all concerned. But it is presumptuous to
scrutinize far into these matters: ghosts have undoubtedly forms and
customs peculiar to themselves.”
The view which Grose has taken of the character of departed spirits is
pretty correct, although I have certainly read of some spirits whose
errands to the earth have been much more direct. One ghost, for
instance, has terrified a man into the restitution of lands, which had
been bequeathed to the poor of a village. A second spirit has adopted
the same plan for recovering property of which a nephew had been
wronged; but a third has haunted a house for no other purpose than to
kick up a row in it—to knock about chairs, tables, and other furniture.
Glanville relates a story, of the date of 1632, in which a man, upon the
alleged information of a female spirit, who came by her death foully,
led the officers of justice to a pit, where a mangled corpse was
concealed, charged two individuals with her murder; and upon this
fictitious story, the poor fellows were condemned and executed, although
they solemnly persevered to the last in maintaining their innocence. It
is but too evident, in this case, by whom the atrocious deed had been
committed.
Other apparitions of this kind may be considered as the illusions of
well-known diseases. Thus there can be no difficulty in considering the
following apparition, given on the authority of Aubery and Turner, as
having had its origin in the Delirium Tremens of drunkenness. “Mr.
Cassio Burroughs,” says the narrator of this very choice, yet, we
believe, authentic story, “was one of the most beautiful men in England,
and very valiant, but very proud and blood thirsty. There was in London
a very beautiful Italian lady,” (whom he seduced.) “The gentlewoman
died; and afterwards, in a tavern in London, he spake of it, (contrary
to his sacred promise,) “and then going” (out of doors) the ghost of the
gentlewoman did appear to him. He was afterwards troubled with the
apparition of her, even sometimes in company when he was drinking.
Before she did appear, he did find a kind of chilness upon his spirits.
She did appear to him in the morning before he was killed in a duel.”
Of the causes of many apparitions which have been recorded, it is not so
easy as the foregoing narrative, to obtain a satisfactory explanation.
Such is the case of the story related of Viscount Dundee, whose ghost
about the time he fell at the battle of Killicranky, appeared to Lord
Balcarras, then under confinement, upon the suspicion of Jacobitism, at
the Castle of Edinburgh. The spectre drew aside the curtain of his
friend’s bed, looked stedfastly at him, leaned for some time on the
mantlepiece, and then walked out of the room. The Earl, not aware at the
time that he was gazing on a phantom, called upon Dundee to stop. News
soon arrived of the unfortunate hero’s fate. Now, regarding this, and
other stories of the kind, however authentic they may be, the most
interesting particulars are suppressed. Of the state of Lord Balcarras’s
health at the time, it has not been deemed necessary that a syllable
should transpire. No argument, therefore, either in support of, or in
opposition to, the popular belief in apparitions, can be gathered from
an anecdote so deficient in any notice of the most important
circumstances upon which the developement of truth depends. With regard
to the spectre of Dundee appearing just at the time he fell in battle,
it must be considered, that agreeable to the well-known doctrine of
chances, which mathematicians have so well investigated, the event might
as well occur then as at any other time, while a far greater proportion
of other apparitions, less fortunate in such a supposed confirmation of
their supernatural origin, are quietly allowed to sink into oblivion.
Thus, it is the office of superstition to carefully select all
successful coincidences of this kind, and register them in her
marvellous volumes, where for ages they have served to delude and
mislead the world.
To this story we shall add another, from Beaumont’s World of Spirits,
for no other reason, than because it is told better than most ghost
stories with which I am acquainted. It is dated in the year 1662, and it
relates to an apparition seen by the daughter of Sir Charles Lee,
immediately preceding her death. No reasonable doubt can be placed on
the authenticity of the narrative, as it was drawn up by the Bishop of
Gloucester, from the recital of the young lady’s father.
“Sir Charles Lee, by his first lady, had only one daughter, of which she
died in child-birth; and when she was dead, her sister, the Lady
Everard, desired to have the education of the child, and she was by her
very well educated, till she was marriageable, and a match was concluded
for her with Sir William Perkins, but was then prevented in an
extraordinary manner. Upon a Thursday night, she, thinking she saw a
light in her chamber, after she was in bed, knocked for her maid, who
presently came to her; and she asked, ‘Why she left a candle burning in
her chamber?’ The maid said, ‘She left none, and there was none but what
she brought with her at that time.’ Then she said it was the fire, but
that, her maid told her, was quite out; and said she believed it was
only a dream. Whereupon she said, it might be so, and composed herself
again to sleep. But about two of the clock she was awakened again, and
saw the apparition of a little woman between her curtain and her pillow,
who told her she was her mother, that she was happy, and that by twelve
of the clock that day she should be with her. Whereupon she knocked
again for her maid, called for her clothes, and when she was dressed,
went into her closet, and came not out again till nine, and then brought
out with her a letter sealed by her father; brought it to her aunt, the
Lady Everard, told her what had happened, and declared, that as soon as
she was dead, it might be sent to him. The lady thought she was suddenly
fallen mad, and thereupon sent presently away to Chelmsford for a
physician and surgeon, who both came immediately; but the physician
could discern no indication of what the lady imagined, or of any
indisposition of her body: notwithstanding the lady would needs have her
let blood, which was done accordingly. And when the young woman had
patiently let them do what they would with her, she desired that the
chaplain might be sent to read prayers; and when prayers were ended, she
took her guitar and psalm-book, and sat down upon a chair without arms,
and played and sung so melodiously and admirably, that her music-master,
who was then there, admired at it. And near the stroke of twelve, she
rose and sat herself down in a great chair with arms, and presently
fetching a strong breathing or two, immediately expired, and was so
suddenly cold, as was much wondered at by the physician and surgeon. She
died at Waltham, in Essex, three miles from Chelmsford, and the letter
was sent to Sir Charles, at his house in Warwickshire; but he was so
afflicted with the death of his daughter, that he came not till she was
buried, but when he came he caused her to be taken up, and to be buried
with her mother, at Edmonton, as she desired in her letter.”
This is one of the most interesting ghost-stories on record. Yet, when
strictly examined, the manner in which a leading circumstance in the
case is reported, affects but too much the supernatural air imparted to
other of its incidents. For whatever might have been averred by a
physician of the _olden time_, with regard to the young lady’s sound
state of health during the period she saw her mother’s ghost, it may be
asked—if any practitioner of the present day would have been proud of
such an opinion, especially when death followed so promptly after the
spectral impression.
——“There’s bloom upon her cheek;
But now I see it is no living hue,
But a strange hectic—like the unnatural red
Which autumn plants upon the perish’d leaf.”
Probably the languishing female herself might have unintentionally
contributed to the more strict verification of the ghost’s prediction.
It was an extraordinary exertion which her tender frame underwent, near
the expected hour of dissolution, in order that she might retire from
all her scenes of earthly enjoyment, with the dignity of a resigned
christian. And what subject can be conceived more worthy the masterly
skill of a painter, than to depict a young and lovely saint cheered with
the bright prospect of futurity before her, and ere the quivering flame
of life which for a moment was kindled up into a glow of holy ardour,
had expired for ever, sweeping the strings of her guitar with her
trembling fingers, and melodiously accompanying the notes with her
voice, in a hymn of praise to her heavenly Maker? Entranced with such a
sight, the philosopher himself would dismiss for the time his usual cold
and cavelling scepticism, and giving way to the superstitious
impressions of less deliberating bye-standers, partake with them in the
most grateful of religious solaces, which the spectacle must have
irresistibly inspired.