exaggerations incident to a state of general excitement, and the
fertile inventive faculties of the accusing girls, there is much in the
evidence that cannot easily be accounted for. In other cases than that
of Westgate, we find the symptoms of that bewildered condition of the
senses and imagination not at all surprising or unusual in the
experience of men staggering home in midnight hours from tavern haunts.
Disturbed dreams were, it is[ii.412] not improbable, a fruitful source
of delusion. A large part of the evidence is susceptible of explanation
by the supposition, that the witnesses had confounded the visions of
their sleeping, with the actual observations and occurrences of their
waking hours. At the trial of Susanna Martin, it was in evidence, that
one John Kembal had agreed to purchase a puppy from the prisoner, but
had afterwards fallen back from his bargain, and procured a puppy from
some other person, and that Martin was heard to say, "If I live, I will
give him puppies enough." The circumstances seem to me to render it
probable, that the following piece of evidence given by Kembal, and to
which the Court attached great weight, was the result of a nightmare
occasioned by his apprehension and dread of the fulfilment of the
reported threat:—
"I, this deponent, coming from his intended house in the woods to
Edmund Elliot's house where I dwelt, about the sunset or presently
after; and there did arise a little black cloud in the north-west, and
a few drops of rain, and the wind blew pretty hard. In going between
the house of John Weed and the meeting-house, this deponent came by
several stumps of trees by the wayside; and he by impulse he can give
no reason of, that made him tumble over the stumps one after another,
though he had his axe upon his shoulder which put him in much danger,
and made him resolved to avoid the next, but could not.
"And, when he came a little below the meeting-house, there did appear a
little thing like a puppy, of a darkish color. It shot between my legs
forward and backward, as[ii.413] one that were dancing the hay.[G] And
this deponent, being free from all fear, used all possible endeavors to
cut it with his axe, but could not hurt it; and, as he was thus
laboring with his axe, the puppy gave a little jump from him, and
seemed to go into the ground.
"In a little further going, there did appear a black puppy, somewhat
bigger than the first, but as black as a coal to his apprehension,
which came against him with such violence as its quick motions did
exceed his motions of his axe, do what he could. And it flew at his
belly, and away, and then at his throat and over his shoulder one way,
and go off, and up at it again another way; and with such quickness,
speed, and violence did it assault him, as if it would tear out his
throat or his belly. A good while, he was without fear; but, at last, I
felt my heart to fail and sink under it, that I thought my life was
going out. And I recovered myself, and gave a start up, and ran to the
fence, and calling upon God and naming the name Jesus Christ, and then
it invisibly away. My meaning is, it ceased at once; but this deponent
made it not known to anybody, for fretting his wife."[H]
[ii.414] We are all exposed to the danger of confounding the
impressions left by the imagination, when, set free from all
confinement, it runs wild in dreams, with the actual experiences of
wakeful faculties in real life. It is a topic worthy the consideration
of writers on evidence, and of legal tribunals. So also is the effect,
upon the personal consciousness, of the continued[ii.415] repetition of
the same story, or of hearing it repeated by others. Instances are
given in books,—perhaps can be recalled by our own individual
experience or observation,—in which what was originally a
delibe[ii.416]rate fabrication of falsehood or of fancy has come, at
last, to be regarded as a veritable truth and a real occurrence.
A thorough and philosophical treatise on the subject of evidence is, in
view of these considerations, much needed. The liability all men are
under to confound the fictions of their imaginations with the realities
of actual observation is not understood with sufficient clearness by
the community; and, so long as it is not understood and regarded,
serious mistakes and inconveniences will be apt to occur in seasons of
general excitement. We are still disposed to attribute more importance
than we ought to strong convictions, without stopping to inquire
whether they may not be in reality delusions of the understanding. The
cause of truth demands a more thorough examination of this whole
subject. The visions that appeared before the mind of the celebrated
Colonel Gardiner are still regarded by the generality of pious people
as evidence of miraculous interposition, while, just so far as they are
evidence to that point, so far is the authority of Christianity
overthrown; for it is a fact, that Lord Herbert of Cherbury believed
with equal sincerity and confidence that he had been vouchsafed a
similar vision sanctioning his labors, when about to publish what has
been pronounced one of the most powerful attacks ever made upon our
religion. It is dangerous to advance arguments in favor of any cause
which may be founded upon nothing better than the reveries of an ardent
imagination![ii.417]
The phenomena of dreams, of the exercises and convictions which occupy
the mind, while the avenues of the senses are closed, and the soul is
more or less extricated from its connection with the body, particularly
in the peculiar conditions of partial slumber, are among the deep
mysteries of human experience. The writers on mental philosophy have
not given them the attention they deserve.
The testimony in these trials is particularly valuable as showing the
power of the imagination to completely deceive and utterly falsify the
senses of sober persons, when wide awake and in broad daylight. The
following deposition was given in Court under oath. The parties
testifying were of unquestionable respectability. The man was probably
a brother of James Bayley, the first minister of the Salem Village
parish.
"The Deposition of Joseph Bayley, aged forty-four years.—Testifieth and
saith, that, on the twenty-fifth day of May last, myself and my wife
being bound to Boston, on the road, when I came in sight of the house
where John Procter did live, there was a very hard blow struck on my
breast, which caused great pain in my stomach and amazement in my head,
but did see no person near me, only my wife behind me on the same
horse; and, when I came against said Procter's house, according to my
understanding, I did see John Procter and his wife at said house.
Procter himself looked out of the window, and his wife did stand just
without the door. I told my wife of it; and she did look that way, and
could see nothing but a little maid at[ii.418] the door. Afterwards,
about half a mile from the aforesaid house, I was taken speechless for
some short time. My wife did ask me several questions, and desired me,
that, if I could not speak, I should hold up my hand; which I did, and
immediately I could speak as well as ever. And, when we came to the way
where Salem road cometh into Ipswich road, there I received another
blow on my breast, which caused so much pain that I could not sit on my
horse. And, when I did alight off my horse, to my understanding, I saw
a woman coming towards us about sixteen or twenty pole from us, but did
not know who it was: my wife could not see her. When I did get up on my
horse again, to my understanding, there stood a cow where I saw the
woman. After that, we went to Boston without any further molestation;
but, after I came home again to Newbury, I was pinched and nipped by
something invisible for some time: but now, through God's goodness to
me, I am well again.—_Jurat in curia_ by both persons."
Bayley and his wife were going to Boston on election week. It was a
good two days' journey from Newbury, as the roads then were, and riding
as they did. According to the custom of the times, she was mounted on a
pillion behind him. They had probably passed the night at the house of
Sergeant Thomas Putnam, with whom he was connected by marriage. It was
at the height of the witchcraft delirium. Thomas Putnam's house was the
very focus of it. There they had listened to highly wrought accounts of
its wonders and terrors, had witnessed the amazing phenomena exhibited
by Ann Putnam and Mercy Lewis, and their minds been filled with images
of[ii.419] spectres of living witches, and ghosts of the dead. They had
seen with their own eyes the tortures of the girls under cruel
diabolical influence, of which they had heard so much, and realized the
dread outbreak of Satan and his agents upon the lives and souls of men.
They started the next morning on their way through the gloomy woods and
over the solitary road. It was known that they were to pass the house
of John Procter, believed to be a chief resort of devilish spirits.
Oppressed with terror and awe, Bayley was on the watch, his heart in
his mouth. The moment he came in sight, his nervous agitation reached
its climax; and he experienced the shock he describes. When he came
opposite to the house, to his horror there was Procter looking at him
from the window, and Procter's wife standing outside of the door. He
knew, that, in their proper persons and natural bodies, they were, at
that moment, both of them, and had been, for six weeks, in irons, in
one of the cells of the jail at Boston. Bayley's wife, from her
position on the pillion behind him, had her face directed to the other
side of the road. He told her what he saw. She looked round to the
house, and could see nothing but a little maid at the door. After one
or two more fits of fright, he reached the Lynn road, had escaped from
the infernal terrors of the infected region, and his senses resumed
their natural functions. It was several days before his nervous
agitations ceased. Altogether, this is a remarkable case of
hallucination:[ii.420] showing that the wildest fancies brought before
the mind in dreams may be paralleled in waking hours; and that mental
excitement may, even then, close the avenues of the senses, exclude the
perception of reality, and substitute unsubstantial visions in the
place of actual and natural objects.
There may be an interest in some minds to know who the "little maid at
the door" was. The elder children of John Procter were either married
off, or lived on his farm at Ipswich, with the exception of Benjamin,
his oldest son, who remained with his father on the Salem farm.
Benjamin had been imprisoned two days before Bayley passed the house.
Four days before, Sarah, sixteen years of age, had also been arrested,
and committed to jail. This left only William, eighteen years of age,
who, three days after, was himself put into prison; Samuel, seven;
Abigail, between three and four years of age; and one still younger. No
female of the family was then at the house older than Abigail. This
poor deserted child was "the little maid." Curiosity to see the passing
strangers, or possibly the hope that they might be her father and
mother, or her brother and sister, brought her to the door.
In the terrible consequences that resulted from the mischievous, and
perhaps at the outset merely sportive, proceedings of the children in
Mr. Parris's family, we have a striking illustration of the principle,
that no one can foretell, with respect either to himself or others, the
extent of the suffering and injury that may[ii.421] be occasioned by
the least departure from truth, or from the practice of deception. In
the horrible succession of crimes through which those young persons
were led to pass, in the depth of depravity to which they were thrown,
we discern the fate that endangers all who enter upon a career of
wickedness.
No one can have an adequate knowledge of the human mind, who has not
contemplated its developments in scenes like those that have now been
related. It may be said of the frame of our spiritual, even with more
emphasis than of our corporeal nature, that we are fearfully and
wonderfully made. In the maturity of his bodily and mental
organization, health gliding through his veins, strength and symmetry
clothing his form, intelligence beaming from his countenance, and
immortality stamped on his brow, man is indeed the noblest work of God.
In the degradation and corruption to which he can descend, he is the
most odious and loathsome object in the creation. The human mind, when
all its faculties are fully developed and in proper proportions, reason
seated on its rightful throne and shedding abroad its light, memory
embracing the past, hope smiling upon the future, faith leaning on
Heaven, and the affections diffusing through all their gentle warmth,
is worthy of its source, deserves its original title of "image of God,"
and is greater and better than the whole material universe. It is
nobler than all the works of God; for it is an emanation, a part of God
himself, "a ray from the fountain of light." But where, I[ii.422] ask,
can you find a more deplorable and miserable object than the mind in
ruins, tossed by its own rebellious principles, and distorted by the
monstrously unequal development of its faculties? You will look in vain
upon the earthquake, the volcano, or the hurricane, for those elements
of the awful and terrible which are manifested in a community of men
whose passions have trampled upon their principles, whose imaginations
have overthrown the government of reason, and who are swept along by
the torrent until all order and security are swallowed up and lost.
Such a spectacle we have now been witnessing. We have seen the whole
population of this place and vicinity yielding to the sway of their
credulous fancies, allowing their passions to be worked up to a
tremendous pitch of excitement, and rushing into excesses of folly and
violence that have left a stain on their memory, and will awaken a
sense of shame, pity, and amazement in the minds of their latest
posterity.
There is nothing more mysterious than the self-deluding power of the
mind, and there never were scenes in which it was more clearly
displayed than the witchcraft prosecutions. Honest men testified, with
perfect confidence and sincerity, to the most absurd impossibilities;
while those who thought themselves victims of diabolical influence
would actually exhibit, in their corporeal frames, all the appropriate
symptoms of the sufferings their imaginations had brought upon them.
Great ignorance prevailed in reference to the influences of the body
and the mind[ii.423] upon each other. While the imagination was called
into a more extensive and energetic action than at any succeeding or
previous period, its properties and laws were but little understood:
the extent of the connection of the will and the muscular system, the
reciprocal influence of the nerves and the fancy, and the strong and
universally pervading sympathy between our physical and moral
constitutions, were almost wholly unknown. These important subjects,
indeed, are but imperfectly understood at the present day.
It may perhaps be affirmed, that the relations of the human mind with
the spiritual world will never be understood while we continue in the
present stage of existence and mode of being. The error of our
ancestors—and it is an error into which men have always been prone to
fall, and from which our own times are by no means exempt—was in
imagining that their knowledge had extended, in this direction, beyond
the boundary fixed unalterably to our researches, while in this
corporeal life.
It admits of much question, whether human science can ever find a solid
foundation in what relates to the world of spirits. The only instrument
of knowledge we can here employ is language. Careful thinkers long ago
came to the conclusion, that it is impossible to frame a language
precisely and exclusively adapted to convey abstract and spiritual
ideas, even if it is possible, as some philosophers have denied, for
the mind, in its present state, to have such ideas. All[ii.424]
attempts to construct such a language, though made by the most
ingenious men, have failed. Language is based upon imagery, and
associations drawn from so much of the world as the senses disclose to
us; that is, from material objects and their relations. We are here
confined, as it were, within narrow walls. We can catch only glimpses
of what is above and around us, outside of those walls. Such glimpses
may be vouchsafed, from time to time, to rescue us from sinking into
materialism, and to keep alive our faith in scenes of existence
remaining to be revealed when the barriers of our imprisonment shall be
taken down, and what we call death lift us to a clearer and broader
vision of universal being.
Of the reality of the spiritual world, we are assured by consciousness
and by faith; but our knowledge of that world, so far as it can go into
particulars, or become the subject of definition or expression, extends
no further than revelation opens the way. In all ages, men have been
awakened to the "wonders of the invisible world;" but they remain
"wonders" still. Nothing like a permanent, stable, or distinct science
has ever been achieved in this department. Man and God are all that are
placed within our ken. Metaphysics and Theology are the names given to
the sciences that relate to them. The greater the number of books
written by human learning and ingenuity to expound them, the more
advanced the intelligence and piety of mankind, the less, it is
confessed, do we know of them in detail, the more they rise above our
comprehension,[ii.425] the more unfathomable become their depths.
Experience, history, the progress of light, all increase our sense of
the impossibility of estimating the capacities of the human soul. So
also we find that the higher we rise towards the Deity, in the
contemplation of his works and word, the more does he continue to
transcend our power to describe or imagine his greatness and glory. The
revelation which the Saviour brought to mankind is all that the heart
of man need desire, or the mind of man can comprehend. We are God's
children, and he is our Father. That is all; and, the wiser and better
we become, the more we are convinced and satisfied that it is enough.
There are, undoubtedly, innumerable beings in the world of spirits,
besides departed souls, the Redeemer, and the Father. But of such
beings we have, while here, no absolute and specific knowledge. In
every age, as well as in our own, there have been persons who have
believed themselves to hold communication with unseen spirits. The
methods of entering into such communication have been infinitely
diversified, from the incantations of ancient sorcery to the mediums
and rappings of the present day. In former periods, particularly where
the belief of witchcraft prevailed, it was thought that such
communications could be had only with evil spirits, and, mostly, with
the Chief of evil spirits. They were accordingly treated as criminal,
and made the subject of the severest penalties known to the law. In our
day, no such penalties are attached to the practice of seeking
spiritual com[ii.426]munications. Those who have a fancy for such
experiments are allowed to amuse themselves in this way without
reproach or molestation. It is not charged upon them that they are
dealing with the Evil One or any of his subordinates. They do not
imagine such a thing themselves. I have no disposition, at any time, in
any given case, to dispute the reality of the wonderful stories told in
reference to such matters. All that I am prompted ever to remark is,
that, if spirits do come, as is believed, at the call of those who seek
to put themselves into communication with them, there is no evidence, I
venture to suggest, that they are good spirits. I have never heard of
their doing much good, substantially, to any one. No important truth
has been revealed by them, no discovery been made, no science had its
field enlarged; no department of knowledge has been brought into a
clearer light; no great interest has been promoted; no movement of
human affairs, whether in the action of nations or the transactions of
men, has been advanced or in any way facilitated; no impulse has been
given to society, and no elevation to life and character. It may be
that the air is full of spiritual beings, hovering about us; but all
experience shows that no benefit can be derived from seeking their
intervention to share with us the duties or the burdens of our present
probation. The mischiefs which have flowed from the belief that they
can operate upon human affairs, and from attempting to have dealings
with them, have been illustrated in the course of our narrative. In
this view of the sub[ii.427]ject, no law is needed to prevent real or
pretended communication with invisible beings. Enlightened reflection,
common sense, natural prudence, would seem to be sufficient to keep men
from meddling at all with practices, or countenancing notions, from
which all history proclaims that no good has ever come, but
incalculable evil flowed.
For the conduct of life, while here in these bodies, we must confine
our curiosity to fields of knowledge open to our natural and ordinary
faculties, and embraced within the limits of the established condition
of things. Our fathers filled their fancies with the visionary images
of ghosts, demons, apparitions, and all other supposed forms and
shadows of the invisible world; lent their ears to marvellous stories
of communications with spirits; gave to supernatural tales of
witchcraft and demonology a wondering credence, and allowed them to
occupy their conversation, speculations, and reveries. They carried a
belief of such things, and a proneness to indulge it, into their daily
life, their literature, and the proceedings of tribunals,
ecclesiastical and civil. The fearful results shrouded their annals in
darkness and shame. Let those results for ever stand conspicuous,
beacon-monuments warning us, and coming generations, against
superstition in every form, and all credulous and vain attempts to
penetrate beyond the legitimate boundaries of human knowledge.
The phenomena of the real world, so far as science discloses them to
our contemplation; the records of[ii.428] actual history; the lessons
of our own experience; the utterances of the voice within, audible only
to ourselves; and the teachings of the Divine Word,—are sufficient for
the exercise of our faculties and the education of our souls during
this brief period of our being, while in these bodies. In God's
appointed time, we shall be transferred to a higher level of vision.
Then, but not before, we may hope for re-union with disembodied
spirits, for intercourse with angels, and for a nearer and more open
communion with all divine beings.
The principal difference in the methods by which communications were
believed to be made between mortals and spiritual beings, at the time
of the witchcraft delusion and now, is this. Then it was chiefly by the
medium of the eye, but at present by the ear. The "afflicted children"
professed to have seen and conversed with the ghosts of George
Burroughs's former wives and of others. They also professed to have
seen the shapes or appearances of living persons in a disembodied form,
or in the likeness of some animal or creature. Now it is affirmed by
those calling themselves Spiritualists, that, by certain rappings or
other incantations, they can summon into immediate but invisible
presence the spirits of the departed, hold conferences with them, and
draw from them information not derivable from any sources of human
knowledge. There is no essential distinction between the old and the
new belief and practice. The consequences that resulted from the former
would be[ii.429] likely to result from the latter, if it should obtain
universal or general credence, be allowed to mix with judicial
proceedings, or to any extent affect the rights of person, property, or
character.
The "afflicted children" at Salem Village had, by long practice, become
wonderful adepts in the art of jugglery, and probably of ventriloquism.
They did many extraordinary things, and were believed to have constant
communications with ghosts and spectres; but they did not attain to
spiritual rapping. If they had possessed that power, the credulity of
judges, ministers, magistrates, and people, would have been utterly
overwhelmed, and no limit could have been put to the destruction they
might have wrought.