regular order of things, such as great and unusual storms, earthquakes,
eclipses of the sun or moon, the appearance of a comet in the heavens,
or of a plague of flies, caterpillars, or locusts were once held to
be so many infallible signs of impending calamity. All of our early
historians give full and entire credit to the evil import of these
startling phenomena, which were invariably referred to the wrath of an
offended deity, only to be appeased by a special season of fasting and
prayer. Of course ample warrant exists for such belief in the Bible,
which was something no man dared question or gainsay in those primitive
days. For example, in his history of Philip’s War, Increase Mather lays
down this, to our age, startling proposition. “It is,” says the learned
divine, “a common observation, verified by the experience of many ages,
that _great and publick calamityes seldome come upon any place without
prodigious warnings to forerun and signify what is to be expected_.” He
had just noted the appearance “in the aire,” at Plymouth, of something
shaped in the perfect form of an Indian bow, which some of the
terror-stricken people looked upon as a “prodigious apparition.” The
learned divine cleverly interpreted it as a favorable omen, however,
portending that the Lord would presently “break the bow and spear
asunder,” thus calming their fears.
This extract taken at random, fairly establishes the survival
of certain forms of superstition in the second generation of
colonists. The first, as has been said already, brought all of its
old superstitions with it. In short, every form of belief in the
supernatural, for which the fathers of New England have been so roundly
abused or ridiculed, may be distinctly traced back to the old country.
Very much of the belief in the baleful influence of so-called
prodigies, with the possible exception of that ascribed to comets, or
“blazing stars,” as they were called, has fortunately subsided in a
measure, for we shudder to think of a state of things so thoroughly
calculated to keep society continually on the rack. But in those
earlier times life and death had about equal terrors. Sin and sinners
were punished both here and hereafter; and, really, if we may credit
such writers as the Rev. William Hubbard and the Mather family, poor
New England was quite ripe, in their time, for the fate of Sodom and
Gomorrah.
As regards comets, we risk little in saying that a great many very
sensible people still view their periodical appearance with fear and
trembling, and their departure with a feeling of unfeigned relief. It
is our unwilling tribute to the unfathomable and the unknown. And,
disguise it as we may, we breathe more freely when the dread visitant
has faded from our sight. In the language of Macbeth after seeing
Banquo’s ghost,--
“Why, so: being gone, I am a man again.”
In truth, we know comets as yet only as the accredited agents of
destruction. It seems a natural question to ask, If order is nature’s
first law, why are all these departures from it? Can they be without
fixed end, aim, or purpose? Why should the solid earth quake, the sea
overwhelm the land, mountains vomit forth flames, the tempest scatter
death and destruction abroad, the heavens suspend a winged and flaming
monster over us,--
“So horribly to shake our disposition,
With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls”?
There was still another form of belief, differing from the first
in ascribing supernatural functions to great natural phenomena. In
this sense, the storm did not descend in the majesty of its mighty
wrath to punish man’s wickedness, but, like the roar of artillery
which announces the death of the monarch to his mourning people, was
coincident, in its coming, with the death of some great personage,
which it proclaimed with salvos of Olympus. Indeed, poets and
philosophers of keen insight have frequently recognized this sort of
curious sympathy in nature with most momentous movements in human
life. We are told that the dying hours of Cromwell and Napoleon were
signalized by storms of terrific violence, and Shakespeare describes
the earth and air as filled with omens before the murders of Julius
Cæsar and of King Duncan.
“As busy as the devil in a gale of wind,” emphasizes by a robust,
sea-seasoned saying the notion current among sailors of how storms
arise.
It was just now said that the belief in direct manifestations of the
divine wrath, through the medium of such calamitous visitations as
great droughts, earthquakes, eclipses, tidal waves, fatal epidemics,
and the like, had, in a measure, subsided. The statement should be
made, however, with certain qualification; for it is well remembered
that during a season of unexampled drought, in the far West, the people
were called together in their churches, and on a week-day, too, to pray
for rain, just as we are told that the Pilgrim Fathers did, on a like
occasion, two hundred and fifty odd years before. Prayers were kept up
without intermission during the day. And it is a further coincidence
that copious showers did set in within twenty-four hours or so. Even
the most sceptical took refuge in silence.
From many different sources we have very detailed accounts of the
remarkable dark day of May 19, 1780, with the great fear that
phenomenon inspired in those who witnessed it, the general belief
being that the Day of Judgment was at hand.[25] In the presence of
this overshadowing terror, few retained their usual presence of mind
unshaken. One such instance is worth repeating here, if only for its
rarity. At that time the Connecticut legislature was in session.
The House of Representatives immediately adjourned. A like motion
was before the Council. The protest of Colonel Davenport has become
historical. Said he, “The Day of Judgment is either approaching or
it is not. If it is, I choose to be found doing my duty. I wish,
therefore, that candles may be lighted.”
Nearly fifty years later (September, 1825), a similar visitation, due
to extensive forest fires in New Brunswick, again created widespread
alarm, hardly quieted by the later knowledge of the atmospheric
conditions (an under stratum of fog and an upper stratum of smoke)
that were so plainly responsible for it. On the contrary, from what
we have been able to gather on the subject, it appears that where the
phenomenon was visible, people were quite as ill at ease as their
fathers were.
Once again, under almost identical conditions, the same phenomenon
wrought exactly the same chaos in the minds of a very large number of
people in New England and New York. This has passed into history as
the Yellow Tuesday (September 6, 1881). On this occasion the brooding
darkness lasted all day. It was noticed that a fire built in the open
air burned with a spectral blue flame. Blue flowers were changed to a
crimson hue. By two in the afternoon one could not see to read without
a light. At a certain hotel in the White Mountains some of the servants
were so frightened that they refused to go to work, and fell to praying
instead.
These examples at least afford data for a comparison of some little
interest, as to how any wide departure from nature’s fixed laws has
affected the human mind at widely separated periods of time, all the
theories or demonstrations of science to the contrary notwithstanding.
So much for the effects of what is a reality to be seen and felt by
all men. But now and again the mere haphazard predictions of some
self-constituted prophet of evil, if plausibly presented and steadily
insisted upon, find a multitude of credulous believers among us. It
is only a few years since a certain religious sect, notwithstanding
repeated failures in the past, with much consequent ridicule, again
ventured to fix a day for the second coming of Our Lord. Similarly
it falls within the recollection of most of us how a certain
self-constituted Canadian seer solemnly predicted the coming of a
monster tidal wave, which in its disastrous effects was to be another
Deluge. All the great Atlantic seaboard was to be buried in the rush of
mighty waters; all its great maritime cities swept away in a moment.
Fresher still in the recollection is the prediction that the end of
the world would surely come as the inevitable result of the shower of
meteors of November, 1899.
It is a fact that many good and worthy but, alas! too credulous
people living along the New England coast, who believed themselves in
danger from the destroying tidal wave, were thrown into a state of
unspeakable agitation and alarm by this wicked prediction. Yet there
was absolutely nothing to warrant it except the unsupported declaration
of this one man, whom no one knew, and few had ever heard of. Yet some
really believed, more half believed, and some who openly ridiculed the
prediction apparently did so more to keep their courage up than from
actual unbelief. So easy it is to arouse the fears of a community, who
usually act first and reason afterward. I heard of one man who actually
packed all his household goods in a wagon, so as to be ready to start
off for higher ground upon the first signal of the approach of this
much-dreaded rush of waters.
[Illustration]
XIV
“SHIPS THAT PASS IN THE NIGHT”
“_Songe est toujours mensonge_,” says a French proverb; “Dreams go
by contraries” says the English proverb,--that is, if you dream of
the dead you will hear from the living. Who shall decide, where the
collective wisdom of centuries is at such wide variance?
To put faith in the supposed revelations of a disordered or overheated
brain seems, on the face of it, sheer absurdity, especially when we
ourselves may induce dreaming merely by overindulgence in eating or
drinking. Yet there are people who habitually dream when the brain is
in its normal condition. This brings the question down to its simplest
form, “What is a dream?” And there we halt.
That there is no end of theories concerning the measure of credit that
should be given to dreams is readily accounted for. What nobody can
explain every one is at liberty to have his own peculiar notions of.
Perhaps the most curious thing about it is the proven fact that so many
different people should dream precisely the same thing from time to
time; so making it possible not only to classify and analyze dreams,
but even to lay down certain interpretations, to be accepted by a
multitude of believers. Of course it is easy to laugh at the incoherent
fancies that flit through the debatable region we inhabit while asleep,
but it is not so easy to explain why we laugh, or why we should dream
of persons or events long since passed from our memories, or of other
persons or events wholly unknown to us, either in the past or the
present.
Without a doubt people dream just as much nowadays as they ever did.
That fact being admitted, the problem for us to consider is, whether
the belief in the prophetic character of dreams, held by so many
peoples for so many centuries, having the unequivocal sanction, too,
of Scripture authority, is really dying out, or continues to hold
its old dominion over the minds of poor, fallible mankind. In order
to determine this vexed question inquiry was made of several leading
booksellers with the following result: Thirty or forty years ago dream
books were as much a recognized feature of the book-selling trade as
any other sort of literary property; consequently, they were openly
exposed for sale in every bookstore, large or small. It now appears
that these yellow-covered oracles of fate are still in good demand,
mostly by servant girls and factory girls, and, though seldom found
in the best bookstores, may be readily had of most dealers in cheap
periodicals. This, certainly, would seem to be a gain in the direction
of education, though not of the masses. It also appears that, as in the
matter of “signs,” the female sex is more susceptible to this sort of
superstition than is the male; but that by no means proves the sterner
sex to be wholly free from it.
Some persons dream a great deal, others but seldom. Let one who is not
much addicted to the habit have a bad dream, a frightful dream, and
be he never so well poised, the phantasm can hardly fail of leaving a
disquieting, perhaps a lasting, effect. Seldom, indeed, can that person
shake off the feeling that the dream forbodes something of a sinister
nature. In vain he racks his brain for some interpretation that may set
his mind at rest, wholly forgetful of the trite adage that dreams go by
contraries.
So often, indeed, do we hear the pregnant declaration, to wit: “Your
old men shall dream dreams, your young men see visions,” that we have
adopted it as a striking rhetorical figure of wide application. In
Hamlet’s celebrated soliloquy upon the immortality of the soul, the
melancholy Dane confesses to an overmastering fear of bad dreams. And
once again, as if wrung from the very anguish of his sinful heart,
Gloster cries out: “Oh, Catesby, I have had such horrid dreams!” And
Catesby expostulates, “Shadows, my lord, below the soldiers seeming.”
But Gloster thrusts aside the rebuke as he impetuously exclaims: “Now
by my this day’s hopes, shadows to-night have struck more terror to the
soul of Richard, than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers arm’d
all in proof.”
We find that our own immediate ancestors were fully as credulous in
regard to the importance of dreams, as affecting their lives and
fortunes, as the ancients appear to have been. But with them it is
true that Scripture warrant was accepted as all-sufficient. Just a few
examples will suffice.
In the time of its disintegration, owing to the removal of some of
its members to Connecticut, the church of Dorchester, Massachusetts,
“did not reorganize on account of certain dreams and visions among the
congregation.”
Under a certain date, Samuel Sewall sets down the fact that he has had
disturbing dreams, which he, according to his wont, anxiously strives
to interpret--he, of all men!--a magistrate, a councillor, and a ruler
in the land. One dream was to the effect “that all my [his] children
were dead except Sarah, which did distress me sorely with reflections
on my omissions of duty towards them as well as breaking of the hopes I
had of them.”
Shifting now the scene to half a century later, we find in the “Diary
and Letters of Sarah Pierpont,” wife of the celebrated theologian,
Jonathan Edwards, this letter, describing a singularly prophetic dream
relative to her grandson, then an infant, Aaron Burr:--
“STOCKBRIDGE, May 10, 1756.
“DEAR BROTHER JAMES: Your letters always do us good, and your
last was one of your best. Have you heard of the birth of
Esther’s second child, at Newark? It was born the sixth of
February last, and its parents have named him Aaron Burr, Jr.,
after his father, the worthy President of the College. I trust
the little immortal will grow up to be a good and useful man.
But, somehow, a strange presentiment of evil has hung over my
mind of late, and I can hardly rid myself of the impression
that that child was born to see trouble.
“You know I don’t believe in dreams and visions; but lately I
had a sad night of broken sleep, in which the future career
of that boy seemed to pass before me. He first appeared as
a little child, just beginning to ascend a high hill. Not
long after he set out, the two guides who started with him
disappeared one after the other. He went on alone, and as the
road was open and plain, and as friends met him at every turn,
he got along very well. At times he took on the air and bearing
of a soldier, and then of a statesman, assuming to lead and
control others. As he neared the top of the hill, the way grew
more steep and difficult, and his companions became alienated
from him, refusing to help him or be led by him. Baffled in
his designs, and angered at his ill-success, he began to lay
about him with violence, leading some astray, and pulling down
others at every attempt to rise. Soon he himself began to
slip and slide down the rough and perilous sides of the hill;
now regaining his foothold for a little, then losing it again,
until at length he stumbled and fell headlong down, down, into
a black and yawning gulf at the base!
“At this, I woke in distress, and was glad enough to find it
was only a dream. Now, you may make as much or as little of
this as you please. I think the disturbed state of our country,
along with my own indifferent health, must have occasioned it.
A letter from his mother, to-day, assures me that her little
Aaron is a lively, prattlesome fellow, filling his parents’
hearts with joy.
“Your loving sister,
“SARAH.”
Though “only a dream,” this vision of the night prefigured a sad
reality, for within two years both of the “guides” had gone, President
Burr in September, 1757, his wife in the same month of the next year,
1758.
Passing now down to our own day, the Rev. Walter Colton, sometime
alcalde of Monterey, tells us, in his reminiscences of the gold
excitement of 1849, that he dreamed of finding gold at a certain spot,
had faith enough in his dream to seek for it in that place, and was
rewarded by finding it there.
A mass of similar testimony might be adduced. One piece coming from a
brave soldier, who will not be accused of harboring womanish fears,
will bear repeating here. We again quote from that most interesting
volume, “Forty-one Years in India.” Lord Roberts, its author, is
speaking of his father, then a man close upon seventy.
“Shortly before his departure an incident occurred which I will relate
for the benefit of psychological students; they may perhaps be able
to explain it, I never could. My father had some time before issued
invitations for a dance which was to take place in two days’ time,--on
Monday, the 17th October, 1853. On the Saturday morning he appeared
disturbed and unhappy, and during breakfast was despondent--very
different from his usual bright and cheery self. On my questioning him
as to the cause, he told me he had had an unpleasant dream--one which
he had dreamt several times before, and which had always been followed
by the death of a near relation. As the day advanced, in spite of my
efforts to cheer him, he became more and more depressed, and even
said he should like to put off the dance. I dissuaded him from taking
this step for the time being; but that night he had the same dream
again, and the next morning he insisted on the dance being postponed.
It seemed rather absurd to disappoint our friends on account of a
dream; there was, however, nothing for it but to carry out my father’s
wishes, and intimation was accordingly sent to the invited guests.
The following morning the post brought news of the sudden death of a
half-sister at Lahore, with whom I had stayed on my way to Pashawar.”
A man is now living who ran away from the vessel in which he had
shipped as a sailor before the mast, in consequence of dreaming for
three nights in succession that the vessel would be lost. All the
circumstances were related to me, with much minuteness of detail, by
persons quite familiar with them at the time of their occurrence. The
vessel was, in fact, cast away, and every one on board drowned, on the
very night after she sailed; consequently the warning dream, by means
of which the deserter’s life was saved, could hardly fail of leaving a
deep and lasting impression upon the minds of all who knew the facts.
The story has been told more at length elsewhere by the writer,[26]
as it came from the lips of a seafaring friend; and the hero of it is
still pointed out to sceptics as a living example of the fact that--
“Coming events cast their shadows before.”
Richard Mansfield, distinguished actor and playwright, has recently
related in an interview a most interesting incident in his own career,
which he declared himself wholly unable to account for. So much more
credit attaches to the testimony of persons if known to the public
even by name, that Mr. Mansfield’s experience has special value here.
It is also a highly interesting fragment of autobiography.
Mr. Mansfield goes on to say that after leading a most precarious
existence, in various ways, his discharge from Mr. D’Oyley Carte’s
company brought on a crisis in his affairs. Reaching his poor lodgings
in London, he soon fell into desperate straits, being soon forced to
pawn what little he had for the means to keep body and soul together.
He declares that he did not know which way to turn, and that the most
gloomy forebodings overwhelmed him. We will now let him tell his own
story in his own way:--
“This was the condition of affairs when the strange happening to which
I have referred befell me. Retiring for the night in a perfectly
hopeless frame of mind, I fell into a troubled sleep and dreamed
dreams. Finally, toward morning, this apparent fantasy came to me. I
seemed in my disturbed sleep to hear a cab drive up to the door as if
in a great hurry. There was a knock, and in my dream I opened the door
and found D’Oyley Carte’s yellow-haired secretary standing outside. He
exclaimed:--
“‘Can you pack up and catch the train in ten minutes to rejoin the
company?’
“‘I can,’ was the dreamland reply; there seemed to be a rushing about
while I swept a few things into my bag; then the cab door was slammed,
and we were off to the station.
“This was all a dream,” continued Mr. Mansfield; “but here is the
inexplicable denouement. The dream was so vivid and startling that I
immediately awoke with a strange, uncanny sensation, and sprang to my
feet. It was six o’clock, and only bare and gloomy surroundings met
my eye. On a chair rested my travelling bag, and through some impulse
which I could not explain at the time and cannot account for now I
picked it up and hurriedly swept into it the few articles that had
escaped the pawnshop. It did not take me long to complete my toilet,
and then I sat down to think.
“Presently, when I had reached the extreme point of dejection, a cab
rattled up, there was a knock, and I opened the door. There stood
D’Oyley Carte’s secretary, just as I saw him in my dreams. He seemed to
be in a great flurry, and cried out:--
“‘Can you pack up and reach the station in ten minutes to rejoin the
company?’
“‘I can,’ said I, calmly, pointing to my bag. ‘It is all ready, for I
was expecting you.’
“The man was a little startled by this seemingly strange remark, but
bundled me into the cab without further ado, and we hurried away to
the station exactly in accord with my dream. That was the beginning
of a long engagement, and, although I have known hard times since, it
was the turning-point in my career. I have already said that I have
no theories whatever in regard to the matter. I do not account for
it. It is enough for me to know that I dreamed certain things which
were presently realized in the exact order of the dream. Having no
superstitions, it is impossible to philosophize over the occurrence.
All I know is that everything happened just as I have stated it.”
Some of the hidden meanings attributed to dreams are elsewhere referred
to. As the subject has a literature of its own, we need mention only a
few of the more commonly accepted interpretations. Their name is legion.
To dream of a white horse is a certain presage of a death in the family.
To dream of a funeral is a sign that you will soon attend a wedding.
To dream of losing one’s teeth is ominous of some coming sorrow.
To dream of a snake is a token that you have an enemy.
Touching a dead body will prevent dreaming of it.
The same dream, occurring three nights in succession, will surely come
to pass.
A slice of wedding-cake put under the pillow will cause an unmarried
woman to dream of her future husband.
[Illustration]
XV
FORTUNE-TELLING, ASTROLOGY, AND PALMISTRY
“I asked her of the way, which she informed me;
Then craved my charity, and bade me hasten
To save a sister.”--_Otway._