{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_44177/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_44177","id":"gutenberg_44177","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/44177","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - Other","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Folklore","Superstition"],"text":"Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this\n      file which includes the original illustrations.\n      See 44177-h.htm or 44177-h.zip:\n      (https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/44177/pg44177-images.html)\n      or\n      (https://www.gutenberg.org/files/44177/44177-h.zip)\n\n\n      Images of the original pages are available through\n      Internet Archive/American Libraries. See\n      https://archive.org/details/mythsfablesoftod00drak\n\n\nTranscriber's note:\n\n      Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).\n\n      Text enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=).\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE MYTHS AND FABLES OF TO-DAY\n\n\n      *      *      *      *      *      *\n\nBY THE SAME AUTHOR\n\n\n  =The Watch Fires of \u201976= Illustrated              =$1.25=\n  =The Campaign of Trenton=                           =.50=\n  =Burgoyne\u2019s Invasion of 1777=                       =.50=\n  =The Taking of Louisburg=                           =.50=\n  =The Battle of Gettysburg=                          =.50=\n  =Our Colonial Homes= Illustrated                   =2.50=\n  =Old Landmarks of Boston= Illustrated              =2.00=\n  =Old Landmarks of Middlesex= Illustrated           =2.00=\n  =Captain Nelson= A romance of Colonial Days         =.75=\n  =The Heart of the White Mountains= Illustra\u2019d      =7.50=\n  =The Same= Tourists\u2019 Edition                       =3.00=\n  =Old Boston Taverns= Paper                          =.25=\n  =Around the Hub= A Boys\u2019 Book about Boston         =1.12=\n  =New England Legends and Folk Lore= Illus\u2019d        =2.00=\n  =The Making of New England= Illustrated            =1.50=\n  =The Making of the Great West= Illustrated         =1.50=\n  =The Making of Virginia and Middle Colonies=       =1.50=\n  =The Making of the Ohio Valley States= Ill\u2019d       =1.50=\n  =The Pine Tree Coast= Illustrated                  =1.50=\n\n  _Any book in the above list sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of\n  price, by_\n\n  LEE AND SHEPARD BOSTON MASS.\n\n      *      *      *      *      *      *\n\n\nTHE MYTHS AND FABLES OF TO-DAY\n\n\n\u201c_Lord, what fools these mortals be!_\u201d\n\n\n[Illustration: HALLOWE\u2019EN.]\n\n\nTHE MYTHS AND FABLES OF TO-DAY\n\nby\n\nSAMUEL ADAMS DRAKE\n\nIllustrations by Frank T. Merrill\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nBoston\nLee and Shepard\nMCM\n\nCopyright, 1900, by Samuel Adams Drake.\n\n_All rights reserved._\n\nTHE MYTHS AND FABLES OF TO-DAY.\n\nNorwood Press\nJ. S. Cushing & Co.--Berwick & Smith\nNorwood, Mass., U.S.A.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n                                                      PAGE\n\n     I. A RECKONING WITH TIME                            1\n\n    II. THE FOLK-LORE OF CHILDHOOD                      25\n\n   III. WEATHER LORE                                    34\n\n    IV. SIGNS OF ALL SORTS                              47\n\n     V. CHARMS TO GOOD LUCK                             55\n\n    VI. CHARMS AGAINST DISEASE                          85\n\n   VII. OF FATE IN JEWELS                              109\n\n  VIII. OF LOVE AND MARRIAGE                           122\n\n    IX. OF EVIL OMENS                                  144\n\n     X. OF HAUNTED HOUSES, PERSONS, AND  PLACES        182\n\n    XI. OF PRESENTIMENTS                               208\n\n   XII. THE DIVINING-ROD                               229\n\n  XIII. WONDERS OF THE PHYSICAL UNIVERSE               234\n\n   XIV. \u201cSHIPS THAT PASS IN THE NIGHT\u201d                 244\n\n    XV. FORTUNE-TELLING, ASTROLOGY, AND PALMISTRY      259\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nI\n\nA RECKONING WITH TIME\n\n    \u201cYe men of Athens, I perceive that in all things ye are too\n    superstitious.\u201d\n\n\nTo say that superstition is one of the facts of history is only to\nstate a truism. If that were all, we might treat the subject from\na purely philosophical or historical point of view, as one of the\ninexplicable phenomena of an age much lower in intelligence than our\nown, and there leave it.\n\nBut if, also, we must admit superstition to be a present, a living,\nfact, influencing, if not controlling, the everyday acts of men, we\nhave to deal with a problem as yet unsolved, if not insolvable.\n\nI know it is commonly said that such things belong to a past age--that\nthey were the legitimate product of ignorance, and have died out with\nthe education of the masses. In other words, we know more than our\nancestors did about the phenomena of nature, and therefore by no means\naccept, as they did--good, superstitious souls!--the appearance of a\ncomet blazing in the heavens, or the heaving of an earthquake under our\nfeet, as events having moral significance. With the aid of electricity\nor steam we perform miracles every day of our lives, such as, no doubt,\nwould have created equal wonder and fear for the general stability of\nthe world not many generations ago.\n\nVery true. So far as merely physical phenomena are concerned, most of\nus may have schooled ourselves to disunite them wholly from coming\nevents; but as regards those things which spring from the inward\nconsciousness of the man himself, his intuitions, his perceptions,\nhis aspirations, his imaginative nature, which, if strong enough, is\ncapable of creating and peopling a realm wholly outside of the little\nworld he lives in--\u201cay, there\u2019s the rub.\u201d Who will undertake to span\nthe gulf stretching out a shoreless void between the revelations of\nscience and the incomprehensible mysteries of life itself? It is upon\nthat debatable ground that superstition finds its strongest foothold,\nand, like the ivy clinging round old walls, defies every attempt to\nuproot it. As Hamlet so cogently puts it,--\n\n    \u201cThere are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,\n    Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.\u201d\n\nSuperstition, we know, is much older than recorded history, and we now\nstand on the threshold of the twentieth century; yet just in proportion\nas humanity has passed over this enormous space of time, hand in hand\nwith progress, superstition has followed it like its shadow. That\nshadow has not yet passed away.\n\nThere is no sort of use in denying the proneness of weak human nature\nto admit superstition. It is an open door, through which the marvellous\nfinds easy access. Imbibed in the cradle, it is not even buried in the\ngrave. \u201cAge cannot stale, nor custom wither\u201d those ancient fables of\nghosts, giants, goblins, and brownies told by fond mothers to children\nto-day, just as they were told by mothers centuries ago. Even the\ninnocent looking Easter egg, which continues to enjoy such unbounded\npopularity with old and young, comes of an old Aryan myth; while the\nhanging up of one\u2019s stocking, at Christmas, is neither more nor less\nthan an act of superstition, originating in another myth; or, in plain\nEnglish, no Santa Claus, no stocking.\n\nHow much of childhood\u2019s charm in the greatest of all annual festivals,\nthe world over, would remain if Santa Claus, Kris Kringle, and St.\nNicholas were stripped of their traditional, but wholly fictitious,\ncharacter? One of our popular magazines for children--long life to\nit!--flourishes under the title of St. Nicholas to-day; and during the\nvery latest observance of the time-honored festival, a leading journal\nin New England\u2019s chief city devoted considerable space in its editorial\ncolumns to an elaborate defence of that dear old myth Santa Claus,\nwith whom, indeed, we should be very loth to part, if only for the sake\nof old associations.\n\nIt is also noticed that quite recently stories of the wonderful\nbrownies have enjoyed their greatest popularity. For a time these\nspindle-shanked, goggle-eyed puppets could be seen in every household,\nin picture-books, on book covers, in the newspapers--in short,\neverywhere. Should the children be told that there never were any\nsuch creatures as fairies or brownies, there would be an end to all\nthe charm they possess; for, unquestionably, their only hold upon\nthe popular mind rests upon the association with olden superstition.\nOtherwise they would be only so many commonplace rag dolls.\n\nKipling\u2019s popular \u201cJungle Stories,\u201d probably more widely read than any\nstories of the century, give still further effect to the same idea.\n\nNow, is not the plea that these are mere harmless nothings by far the\nmost short-sighted one that could be advanced? The critical thought\nto be impressed here is that about the first teaching little children\nreceive is a lesson in superstition, and that, too, at a time when\ntheir young minds are most susceptible to lasting impressions. We have\nyet to hear of the mother, nursery-maid, or governess, who begins the\nstory of Cinderella or Bluebeard with the warning that it is not \u201ca\nreal true story,\u201d as children say.\n\nAre children of a larger growth any less receptive to the marvellous?\n\u201cGreat oaks from little acorns grow.\u201d The seed first planted in virgin\nsoil later bears an abundant harvest. Stage plays, operas, poetry,\nromances, painting, and sculpture dealing with the supernatural\ncommand quite as great a popularity, to-day, as ever. Fortune telling,\npalmistry, astrology, clairvoyance, hypnotism, and the rest, continue\nto thrive either as a means of getting a living, or of innocent\ndiversion, leaving their mark upon the inner consciousness just the\nsame in one case as in the other.\n\nSo much being undeniable, it stands with every honest inquirer after\ntruth to look these facts in the face without blinking. Ignorance we\ndare not plead. The dictates of a sound common sense will not permit us\nto dismiss what we do not understand with a laugh, a shrug, or a sneer.\n\u201cTo scold is not to answer.\u201d\n\nSuperstition is not easily defined. To say that it is a disposition to\nbelieve more than is warranted by reason, leaves us just as helpless\nas ever; for where reason is impotent we have nothing tangible left to\nfall back upon. There is absolutely no support on which to rest that\nlever. Religion and philosophy, which at first fostered superstition,\nlong ago turned against it all the forces they possessed. Not even\nscience may hope to overthrow what can only be reached through the\ninner consciousness of man, because science can have little to do with\nthe spiritual side of man. That intangible something still eludes\nits grasp. If all these combined forces of civilization have so far\nsignally failed to eradicate superstition, so much the worse for\ncivilization.\n\nWe might also refer to the efforts of some very erudite scholars to\ninterpret modern superstition by the aid of comparative mythology.\nVastly interesting, if not wholly convincing, theories have been\nconstructed on this line. Instructive, too, is the fact that some\nof our most familiar nursery stories may be traced to the ancient\nfolk-lore of still older peoples. Even a remote antiquity is claimed\nfor the familiar nursery tale of \u201cJack and Jill\u201d; while something very\nsimilar to the story of \u201cLittle Red Riding Hood\u201d is found, in its\npurity, in the grewsome werewolf folk-lore of Germany; and \u201cJonah\u2019s\nGourd,\u201d of the East, we are told, probably is the original of \u201cJack and\nthe Beanstalk\u201d of the West.\n\nBut the very fact of the survival of all these hoary superstitions,\nsome of them going back so far that all further trace is lost,\ncertainly furnishes food for thought, since they seemingly enjoy as\ngreat a popularity as ever.\n\nSuperstition being thus shown to be as old as human history, the\nquestion naturally arises, not how it may have originated in the Dark\nAges, but how it has kept its hold so tenaciously throughout all the\nsucceeding centuries down to our own time.\n\nMost peoples, barbarians even, believed in some sort of a future state,\nin the principle of good and evil, and of rewards and punishments.\nThere needs no argument then to account for the insatiable longing to\npry into futurity, and to discover its hidden mysteries. The same idea\nunsettled the minds of former generations, nor can it be truthfully\nsaid to have disappeared before the vaunted wisdom of this utilitarian\nage. Like all forbidden fruit, this may be said to be the subject of\ngreatest anxiety to weak human kind.\n\nWhat then is this talisman with the aid of which we strive to penetrate\nthe secrets of the world beyond us?\n\nMan being what he is, only \u201ca little lower than the angels,\u201d endowed\nwith the supernatural power of calling up at will mental images of both\nthe living and the dead, of building air-castles, and peopling them\naccording to his fantasy, as well in Cathay as in Spain, of standing\nby the side of an absent friend on the summit of Mont Blanc, one moment\namong the snows, the next flitting through the garden spots of sunny\nItaly--if he is thus capable of transporting himself into an enchanted\nland by the mere exercise of the power of his imagination--what could\nbetter serve him as a medium of communication with the unknown, and\nwhat shall deter him from seeking to fathom its deepest mysteries?\nNapoleon said truly that the imagination governs the universe. Every\none has painted his own picture of heaven and hell as well as Dante\nor Milton, or the divine mysteries as truly as Leonardo or Murillo.\nSurely, the imagination could go no further.\n\nAssuming this to be true, there is little need to ask why, in this\nenlightened age, the attempt should be made to revive vagaries already\ndecrepit, that would much better be allowed to go out with the departed\ncentury, unhonored and unsung. Such a question could proceed only from\na want of knowledge of the true facts in the case.\n\nBut whether superstition is justified by the dictates of a sound common\nsense, is not so material here, as whether it actually does exist;\nand if so, to what extent. That is what we shall try to make clear in\nthe succeeding pages. The inquiry grows interesting in many ways, but\nmost of all, we think, as showing the slow stages by which the human\nmind has enfranchised itself from a species of slavery, without its\ncounterpart in any direction to which we may turn for help or guidance.\nEven science, that great leveller of popular error, limps here.\nCertainly, what has existed as long as human history must be accepted\nas a more or less active force in human affairs. We are not, therefore,\ndealing with futilities.\n\nOf the present status of superstition, the most that can be truthfully\nsaid is that some of its worst forms are nearly or quite extinct,\nsome are apparently on the wane, while those representing, perhaps,\nthe widest extremes (the most puerile and the most vital), such, for\nexample, as relate to vapid tea-table gossip on the one hand, and to\nfatal presentiments on the other, continue quite as active as ever.\nUncivilized beings are now supposed to be the only ones who still hold\nto the belief in witchcraft, although within a very few months it has\nbeen currently reported as a fact that the judge of a certain Colorado\ncourt admitted the plea of witchcraft to be set up, because, as this\nlearned judge shrewdly argued, more than half the people there believed\nin it. The defendant, who stood charged with committing a murderous\nassault upon a woman, swore that she had bewitched him, and was\nacquitted by the jury, mainly upon his own testimony.\n\nUnquestionably modern hypnotism comes very close to solving the problem\nof olden witchcraft, which so baffled the wisdom, as it tormented the\nsouls and bodies, of our ancestors, with this difference: that, while\nwitchcraft was believed to be a power to work evil, coming direct from\nhis Satanic Majesty himself, hypnotism is a power or gift residing in\nthe individual, like that of mesmerism.\n\nBut if it be true that there are very few believers in witchcraft among\nenlightened beings to-day, it cannot be denied that thousands of highly\ncivilized men and women as firmly believe in some indefinable relation\nbetween man and the spirit world as in their own existence; while\ntens of thousands believe in such a relation between mind and mind.\nIndeed, the former class counts some very notable persons among its\nconverts. For example, Camille Flammarion, the distinguished scientist,\npositively declares that he has had direct communication with hundreds\nof departed spirits.[1] And the Reverend M. J. Savage, pastor of the\nChurch of the Messiah, in New York, is reported to have announced\nhimself a convert to spiritualism to his congregation not long ago.\n\nThe true explanation for all these different beliefs must be sought\nfor, we think, deep down in the nature of man, which is much the same\nto-day in its relation to the supernatural world as it was in the days\nof our fathers of bigoted memory. In reality, the supernatural element\nexists to a greater or less degree in all of us, and no merely human\nagency can pretend to fix its limits.\n\nUnquestionably, then, those beliefs which have exerted so potent an\ninfluence in the past over the minds or affairs of men, which continue\nto exert such influence to-day, and, for ought we know to the contrary,\nmay extend that influence indefinitely, are not to be whistled down\nthe wind, or kept hidden away under lock and key, especially when we\nreflect that the most terrible examples of the frailty of all human\njudgments concerning these beliefs have utterly failed to remove the\ngroundwork upon which they rest.\n\nThere still remains the sentimental side of superstition to consider.\nWhat, for example, would become of much of our best literature, if\nall those apt and beautiful figures culled from the rich stores of\nancient mythology--the very flowers of history, so to speak--were\nto be weeded out of it with unsparing hand? What would Greek and\nRoman history be with their gods and goddesses left out? With what\nloving and appreciative art our greatest poets have gathered up the\nscattered legends of the fading past. Some one has cunningly said that\nsuperstition is the poetry of life, and that of all men poets should be\nsuperstitious.\n\nAs a matter of history, it is well known that our Puritan ancestors\ncame over here filled full of the prevalent superstitions of the\nold country; yet even they had waged uncompromising warfare against\nall such ceremonious observances as could be traced back to heathen\nmythology. Thus, although they cut down May-poles, they had too much\nreverence for the Bible to refuse to believe in witches. Writers like\nMr. Hawthorne have supposed that the wild and extravagant mysteries of\ntheir savage neighbors, may, to some extent, have become incorporated\nwith their own beliefs. However that may be, it is certain that the\nPuritan fathers believed in no end of pregnant omens, also in ghosts,\napparitions, and witches, as well as in a personal devil, with whom,\nindeed, later on, they had no end of trouble. In short, if anything\nhappened out of the common, the devil was in it. So say many to-day.\n\nA certain amount of odium has attached itself to the Puritan fathers of\nNew England, on this account, among unreflecting or ill-natured critics\nat least, just as if, upon leaving Old England, those people would\nbe expected to leave their superstitions behind them, like so much\nuseless luggage. As a matter of fact, rank superstition was the common\ninheritance of all peoples of that day and generation, whether Jew or\nGentile, Frenchman or Dutchman, Virginian or New Englander. Of its wide\nprevalence in Old England we find ample proof ready to our hand. For\nexample:\n\n\u201cAt Boston, in Lincolnshire, Mr. Cotton being their former minister,\nwhen he was gone the bishop desired to have organs set up in the\nchurch, but the parish was unwilling to yield; but, however, the bishop\nprevailed to be at the cost to set them up. But they being newly up\n(not playing very often with them) a violent storm came in at one\nwindow and blew the organs to another window, and brake both organs and\nwindow down, and to this day the window is out of reputation, being\nboarded and not glazed.\u201d[2]\n\nStill further to show the feeling prevailing in England toward\nsuperstition at the time of the settlement of this country, in the\nhistorical essay entitled \u201cWith the King at Oxford,\u201d we find this\nanecdote: The King (Charles I.), coming into the Bodleian Library on\na certain day, was shown a very curious copy of Virgil. Lord Falkland\npersuaded his Majesty to make trial of his fortune by thrusting a knife\nbetween the leaves, then opening the book at the place in which the\nknife was inserted. The king there read as follows:--\n\n    \u201cYet let him vexed bee with arms and warres of people wilde,\n    And hunted out from place to place, an outlaw still exylde:\n    Let him go beg for helpe, and from his childe dissevered bee,\n    And death and slaughter vile of all his kindred let him see.\u201d\n\nThe narrative goes on to say that the king\u2019s majesty was \u201cmuch\ndiscomposed\u201d by this uncanny incident, and that Lord Falkland, in order\nto turn the king\u2019s thoughts away from brooding over it, proposed making\nthe trial himself.\n\nWe continue to draw irrefragable testimony to the truth of our\nposition from the highest personages in the realm. Again, according to\nWallington, Archbishop Laud, arch persecutor of the Puritans, has this\npassage in his diary: \u201cThat on such or such a day of the month he was\nmade archbishop of Canterbury, and on that day, which was a great day\nof honor to him, his coach and horses sunk as they came over the ferry\nat Lambeth, in the ferry-boat, and he prayed that this might be no ill\nomen.\u201d\n\nOur pious ancestors put a good deal of faith in so-called \u201cjudgments,\u201d\nor direct manifestations of the divine wrath toward evildoers, as all\nreaders of Mather\u2019s \u201cRemarkable Providences\u201d well know. But they were\nby no means alone in such beliefs. It is related of the poet Milton,\nafter he became blind, that the Duke of York (later James II.) asked\nhim if he did not consider the loss of his eyesight as a judgment\ninflicted upon him for what he had written of the late king. In reply\nMilton asked the duke, if such afflictions were to be regarded as\njudgments from heaven, in what manner he would account for the fate of\nthe late king; ... he, the speaker, had only lost his eye, while the\nking had lost his head.\u201d\n\nJohn Josselyn, Gent., an Englishman, but no Puritan, who spent some\ntime in New England, chiefly at Scarborough in Maine, published, in\n1672, in England, a little book under the title of \u201cNew England\u2019s\nRarities Discovered.\u201d Some things which Josselyn \u201cdiscovered\u201d would be\nrarities indeed to this generation. For instance, he describes the\nappearance of several prodigious apparitions--all of which has a value\nin enabling us properly to gauge the tone and temper of popular feeling\nwhere the book was written, and where it was published. One of his\n\u201crarities\u201d is worth repeating here, if only for the pretty sentiment\nit embodies. He says of the twittering chimney-swallows, \u201cthat when\nabout to migrate they commonly throw down (the chimney) one of their\nyoung into the room below, by way of gratitude,\u201d presumably in return\nfor the hospitalities of the house. He then goes on to say, \u201cI have\nmore than once observed that, against the ruin of a family, these birds\nwill forsake the house and come no more.\u201d This comes from a more or\nless close observer, who himself occupied the relation we desire to\nestablish, namely that of a transplanted Englishman, so thoroughly\ngrounded in old superstition that all the marvels he relates are told\nwith an air of truth quite refreshing.\n\nAn amusing instance of how far prevalent superstition can lead astray\nminds usually enlightened is soberly set forth in Governor Winthrop\u2019s\ncelebrated history. It is a fit corollary to the organ superstition,\njust narrated.\n\n\u201cMr. Winthrop the younger, one of the magistrates, having many books\nin a chamber, where there was corn of divers sorts, had among them\none wherein the Greek Testament, the Psalter and the Common Prayer\nwere bound together. He found the Common Prayer eaten with mice, every\nleaf of it, and not any of the two other touched, nor any other of his\nbooks, though there were above a thousand.\u201d\n\nAll these superstitious beliefs were solemnly bequeathed by the fathers\nto their children under the sanction of a severe penal code, together\nwith all the accumulated traditions of their own immediate ancestors.\nAnd in some form or other, whether masquerading under some thin\ndisguise or foolish notion, superstition has continued from that day to\nthis. As Polonius says:\n\n    \u201c... \u2019Tis true, \u2019tis pity;\n    And pity \u2019tis \u2019tis true.\u201d\n\nAlthough a great many popular beliefs may seem puerile in the extreme,\nthey none the less go to establish the fact to be kept in mind. Since I\nbegan to look into the matter I have been most astonished at the number\nof very intelligent persons who take care to conform to prevailing\nbeliefs in things lucky or the reverse. It is true Lord Bacon tells\nus that \u201cin all superstitions wise men follow fools.\u201d But this blunt\ndeclaration of his has undoubted reference to the schoolmen, and to the\nmonastic legends which were such powerful aids in fostering the growth\nof superstition as it existed long before Bacon\u2019s time:--\n\n    \u201cA bone from a saintly anchorite\u2019s cave,\n    A vial of earth from a martyrs grave.\u201d\n\nThe class of persons just spoken of, is, however, so keenly sensitive\nto ridicule that only some chance remark betrays their real mental\nattitude.\n\nWith the unlettered it is different. Superstition is so much more\nprevalent among them that less effort is made at concealment. Perhaps\nthe many agencies at work to put it down have not had so fair a trial\nin the country as in the city. And yet the recent \u201cLucky-Box\u201d craze\nmakes it difficult to draw the line. Be that as it may, it would hardly\nbe an exaggeration to say that some rural communities in New England\nare simply honeycombed with it. Indeed, almost every insignificant\nhappening is a sign of something or other.\n\nOne result of my own observation in this field of research is, that\nwomen, if not by nature more superstitious than men, hold to these\nold beliefs much more tenaciously than men. In the country, it is the\nwoman who is ready to quarrel with you, if, in some unguarded moment,\nyou should venture to doubt the potency of her manifold signs. In the\ncity, it is still the woman who presents her husband with some charm or\nother to be worn on his watch-chain, as a safeguard against disease,\ninconstancy, late hours, or other uncounted happenings of life,\nbelieving, as she does, more or less implicitly, in its traditional\nefficacy. In all that relates to marriage, too, women are usually most\ncareful how they disregard any of the accepted dicta on a subject of so\nmuch concern to their future happiness, as will appear later on.\n\nFifty years ago the poet Whittier declared that \u201cThere is scarcely\na superstition of the past three centuries which has not, at this\nvery time, more or less hold upon individual minds among us.\u201d The\nbroad declaration demands less qualification to-day than is generally\nsupposed.\n\nMost of the examples collected in this volume have come under my\nown observation; some have been contributed by friends, many by the\nnewspapers. If their number should prove a surprise to anybody, I can\nonly say that mine has fully equalled their own. But let us, at least,\nbe honest about it. We can conceal nothing from ourselves. Silence may\nbe golden, but it makes no converts.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nII\n\nTHE FOLK-LORE OF CHILDHOOD\n\n    \u201cWhy this is the best fooling when all is done.\u201d--_Twelfth\n    Night._\n\n\nThe trite saying that \u201cchildren and fools are soothsayers\u201d goes\nstraight to the heart of those familiar superstitions with which the\nfolk-lore of childhood abounds. We, the children of a larger growth,\noften call to mind with what avidity we listened in our childhood\u2019s\ndays to the nursery tales of giants, dwarfs, ghosts, fairies, and the\nlike creations of pure fancy. We still remember how instantly all the\nemotions of our childish nature were excited by the recital of these\nmarvels--told us, too, with such an air of truth, that never for a\nmoment did we doubt them. Oh, how we hated Blue Beard, and how we\nadored Jack the Giant-Killer! Are we not treated, just as soon as we\nare out of the cradle, as if superstition was the first law of nature?\nWhat is the wonder, then, that the effects of these early impressions\nare not easily got rid of, or the impressions themselves soon, if ever,\nforgotten? \u201cBrownie\u201d is put into the arms of toddling infants before\nthey can articulate two words plainly. Just as soon as the child is\nable to prattle a little, it is taught the familiar nursery rhyme of\n\n    \u201cBye, bye, Baby Bunting,\n    Papa\u2019s gone a-hunting,\u201d\n\ndrawn from ancient folk-lore, with which the rabbit and hare are so\nintimately associated. After the innocent face rhymes, found with\nlittle variation, in no less than four different languages, giving\nnames to each of the chubby little features,--\n\n    \u201cEyes winker, Tom Tinker,\u201d etc.\n\ncome the well-known button rhymes, like this:\n\n    \u201cRich man, poor man, beggar man, thief,\n    Doctor, lawyer, merchant, chief;\u201d\n\nor this one, told centuries ago to children across the water:--\n\n    \u201cA tinker, a tailor,\n    A soldier or sailor,\n    A rich man, a poor man,\n    A priest or a parson,\n    A ploughman or a thief.\u201d\n\nThe virgin soil being thus artfully prepared to receive superstition,\nthe boy or girl goes forth among playmates similarly equipped, with\nthem to practice various forms of conjuration in their innocent sports,\nwithout in the least knowing what they are doing. Here are a few of\nthem:--\n\nMaking a cross upon the ground before your opponent, at the same time\nmuttering \u201ccriss-cross,\u201d when playing at marbles, to make him miss his\nshot, as I have often seen done in my schoolboy days. This is merely a\nrelic of that superstition attached to making the sign of the cross, as\na charm against the power of evil spirits.\n\nThe innocent sounding words \u201ccriss-cross\u201d we believe originally to have\nbeen Christ\u2019s Cross.\n\nChildren of both sexes count apple seeds by means of the pretty\njingling rhymes, so like to the German flower oracle, often employed by\nchildren of a larger growth. It has been set to music.\n\n    \u201cOne I love,\n    Two I love.\n    Three I love, I say,\n    Four I love with all my heart,\n    Five I cast away;\n    Six he loves,\n    Seven she loves,\n    Eight both love;\n    Nine he comes,\n    Ten he tarries,\n    Eleven he courts,\n    Twelve he marries.\u201d\n\nHolding the pretty field buttercup under another\u2019s chin, in order to\nsee if he or she loves butter, is a good form of divination. So is the\npractice of blowing off the fluffy dandelion top, after the flower has\ngone to seed, to determine the hour, as that flower always opens at\nabout five in the morning, and shuts at about eight in the evening,\nthus making it stand in the room of a clock for shepherds. This plant\nhas also been called the rustic oracle. To find the time of day, as\nmany puffs as it takes to blow away the downy seed balls gives the\nanswer. The same method of divination is employed by children to find\nout if their mothers want them; or to waft a message to some loved one;\nor to know if such or such a person is thinking of them; and whether he\nor she lives north, east, south, or west.\n\nTo the same general purport is the invocation:\n\n    \u201cRain, rain, go away,\n    Come again another day.\u201d\n\nWe understand that the equally familiar form,--\n\n    \u201cSnail, snail, put out your horn,\u201d\n\nis repeated in China as well as in this country, though sometimes\naltered to\n\n    \u201cSnail, snail, come out of your hole,\n    Or else I\u2019ll beat you black as a coal.\u201d\n\nOne equally familiar form of childish invocation appears in the pretty\nlittle lady-bird rhyme, so often repeated by the young:--\n\n    \u201cLady-bird, lady-bird,\n    Fly away home,\n    Your house is on fire,\n    Your children will burn.\u201d\n\nA favorite way, with boys, of choosing sides for a game of ball is by\nmeasuring the stick. To do this, the leader of one side first heaves\nthe stick in the air, skilfully catching it, as it falls, at a point as\nnear a hand\u2019s-breadth to the end as possible, as his opponent must then\nmeasure the stick with him, alternately hand-over-hand, from the point\nwhere it is caught. The one securing enough of the last of the stick\nfor a hold, has the first choice. This is determination by lot.\n\nStill another form of invocation, formerly much used to clinch a\nbargain between boys, when \u201cswapping\u201d jack-knives or marbles, runs to\nthis effect:--\n\n    \u201cChip, chop, chay,\n    Give a thing, give a thing,\n    Never take it back again.\u201d\n\nThe process of counting a person out in the familiar phrase as being\n\u201cit,\u201d is fairly traced back to the ancient custom of designating a\ncriminal from among his fellows by lot. The form that we know the best\nin New England, a sort of barbaric doggerel, according to Mr. Burton,\nis still current in Cornwall, England, and goes in this wise:--\n\n    \u201cEna, mena, bora, mi:\n    Kisca, lara, mova, di:\n    Eggs, butter, cheese, bread,\n    Stick, stock, stone dead.\u201d\n\nThe resemblance between the foregoing, and what is current among\nplayfellows on this side of the water easily suggests that the boys\nof the \u201cgood Old Colony times,\u201d so often referred to with a sigh of\nregret, brought their games and pastimes along with them. As now\nremembered, the doggerel charm runs as follows:--\n\n    \u201cEny, meny, mony might,\n    Huska, lina, bony tight,\n    Huldy, guldy, boo!\u201d\n\nIn getting ready for a game of \u201ctag,\u201d \u201cI spy,\u201d or \u201chide and seek,\u201d the\none to whom this last magic word falls becomes the victim or is said to\nbe \u201cit.\u201d So in like manner the rhymed formula, following, is employed\nin counting a child \u201cout\u201d:--\n\n    \u201cOne-ery, two-ery, ickery Ann,\n    Fillicy, fallicy, Nicholas, John,\n    Queever, quaver, English knaver,\n    Stinckelum, stanckelum, Jericho, buck.\u201d\n\nA more simple counting-out rhyme is this:\n\n    \u201cOne, two, three,\n    Out goes he (or she).\u201d\n\n\u201cTit, tat, toe,\u201d is still another form, repeated with variations\naccording to locality.\n\nThese few examples may serve to show that what the performers\nthemselves regard only as a simple expedient in the arranging of their\ngames, if they ever give the matter a thought, is really a survival of\nthe belief in the efficacy of certain magical words, turned into rhyme,\nto propitiate success. If this idea had not been instilled into our\nchildren by long custom and habit, it is not believed that they would\ncontinue to repeat such unmeaning drivel. Yet, as childish as it may\nseem, it advances us one step in solving the intricate problem in hand;\nfor here, too, \u201cthe child is father to the man.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nIII\n\nWEATHER LORE\n\n    \u201cFair is foul, and foul is fair.\u201d--_Shakespeare._\n\n\nThere is a certain class of so-called signs, that from long use have\nbecome so embedded in the every-day life of the people as to pass\ncurrent with some as mere whimsical fancies, with others as possessing\na real significance. At any rate, they crop out everywhere in the\ncourse of common conversation. Most of them have been handed down from\nformer generations, while not a few exhale the strong aroma of the\nnative soil itself.\n\nOf this class of familiar signs or omens, affecting only the smaller\nand more casual happenings one may encounter from day to day, or\nfrom hour to hour, those only will be noticed which seem based on\nactual superstition. Many current weather proverbs accord so exactly\nwith the observations of science as to exclude them from any such\nclassification. They are simply the homely records of a simple folk,\ndrawn from long experience of nature in all her moods. As even the\nprophecies of the Weather Bureau itself often fail of fulfilment, it\nis not to be wondered at if weather proverbs sometimes prove no better\nguide, especially when we consider that \u201call signs fail in a dry time.\u201d\n\nThe following are a few examples selected from among some hundreds:--\n\nWhen a cat races playfully about the house, it is a sign that the wind\nwill rise.\n\nIt is a sign of rain if the cat washes her head behind her ears; of bad\nweather when Puss sits with her tail to the fire.\n\nSpiders crawling on the wall denote rain.\n\nIf a dog is seen eating green grass it is a sign of coming wet weather.\n\nHang up a snake skin for rain.\n\nIf the grass should be thickly dotted in the morning with cobwebs\nof the ground spider, glistening with dew, expect rain. Some say it\nportends the exact opposite. This puts us in mind of Cato\u2019s quaint\nsaying that \u201ctwo auguries cannot confront each other without laughing.\u201d\n\nIf the kettle should boil dry, it is a sure sign of rain. Very\nearnestly said a certain respectable, middle-aged housewife to me:\n\u201cWhy, sir, sometimes you put twice as much water in the kettle without\nits boiling away.\u201d\n\nIf the cattle go under trees when the weather looks threatening, there\nwill be a shower. If they continue feeding, it will probably be a\nsteady downpour.\n\nA threatened storm will not begin, or the wind go down, until the\nturning of the tide to flood. Not only the people living along shore,\nbut all sailors believe this.\n\nClosely related to the above is the belief that a sick person will not\ndie until ebb tide. When that goes out, the life goes with it. I have\noften heard this said in some seaports in Maine.\n\nThese popular notions, concerning the influence of the tides, be it\nsaid, have come down to us from a remote antiquity. The Pythagorean\nphilosopher, indeed, stoutly affirmed that the ebbing and flowing of\nthe sea was nothing less than the respiration of the world itself,\nwhich was supposed to be a living monster, alternately drawing in\nwater, instead of air, and heaving it out again.\n\nAgain, an old salt, who had perhaps heard of Galileo\u2019s theory, once\ntried to illustrate to me the movement of the tides by comparing it to\nthat of a man turning over in bed, and dragging the bedclothes with\nhim, his notion being that as the world turned round, the waters of the\nocean were acted upon in a like manner.\n\nTo resume the catalogue:--\n\nA bee was never caught in the rain--that is, if the bee scents rain,\nit keeps near the hive. If, on the contrary, it flies far, the day\nwill be fair. The ancients believed this industrious little creature\npossessed of almost human intelligence.\n\nWhen the squirrels lay in a greater store of nuts than usual, expect a\ncold winter.\n\nIf the November goose-bone be thick, so will the winter weather be\nunusually severe. This prediction appears as regularly as the return of\nthe seasons.\n\nMany meteors falling presage much snow.\n\n    \u201cIf it rains before seven,\n    It will clear before eleven.\u201d\n\n    \u201cYou can tell before two.\n    What it\u2019s going to do.\u201d\n\nThere will be as many snow-storms in a winter as there are days\nremaining in the month after the first fall of snow.\n\nChildren are told, of the falling snow, that the old woman, up in the\nsky, is shaking her feather-bed.\n\nHigh tides on the coast of Maine are considered a sign of rain.\n\nWhen the muskrat builds his nest higher than usual, it is a sign of a\nwet spring, as this means high water in the ponds and streams.\n\n    \u201cA winter fog\n    Will kill a dog,\u201d\n\nwhich is as much as to say that a thaw, with its usual accompaniments\nof fog and rain, is invariably productive of much sickness.\n\nWinter thunder is to old folks death, and to young folks plunder.\n\n    \u201cSound, travelling far and wide,\n    A stormy day will betide.\u201d\n\nDo business with men when the wind is northwest--that signifies that a\nclear sky and bracing air are most conducive to alertness and energy;\nyet Hamlet says: \u201cI am but mad north-northwest; when the wind is\nsoutherly I know a hawk from a handsaw.\u201d\n\nThat was certainly a pretty conceit, no matter if it has been lost\nsight of, that the sun always dances upon Easter morning.\n\nOne of the oldest of weather rhymes runs in this wise:--\n\n    \u201cEvening gray and morning red,\n    Brings down rain on the traveller\u2019s head;\n    Evening red and morning gray,\n    Sends the traveller on his way.\u201d\n\nScience having finally accepted what vulgar philosophy so long\nmaintained, namely that the moon exerts an undoubted influence upon\nthe tides of the sea, all the various popular beliefs concerning her\ninfluence upon the weather that have been wafted to us over, we know\nnot how many centuries, find ready credence. If the mysterious luminary\ncould perform one miracle, why not others? Thus reasoned the ignorant\nmultitude.\n\nThe popular fallacy that the moon is made of \u201cgreene cheese,\u201d as sung\nby Heywood, and repeated by that mad wag Butler, in \u201cHudibras,\u201d may be\nconsidered obsolete, we suppose, but in our youth we have often heard\nthis said, and, it is to be feared, half believed it.\n\nCutting the hair on the waxing of the moon, under the delusion that it\nwill then grow better, is another such.\n\nAs preposterous as it may seem, our worthy ancestors, or some of them\nat least, firmly believed that the Man in the Moon was veritable flesh\nand blood.\n\nIn \u201cCurious Myths,\u201d Mr. Baring-Gould refers the genesis of this belief\nto the Book of Numbers.[3]\n\nAn old Scotch rhyme runs thus:--\n\n    \u201cA Saturday\u2019s change and a Sunday\u2019s prime,\n    Was nivver gude mune in nae man\u2019s time.\u201d\n\nIf the horns of the new moon are but slightly tipped downward, moderate\nrains may be looked for; if much tipped, expect a downpour. On the\nother hand, if the horns are evenly balanced, it is a sure sign of dry\nweather. Some one says in \u201cAdam Bede,\u201d \u201cThere\u2019s no likelihood of a drop\nnow an\u2019 the moon lies like a boat there.\u201d The popular notion throughout\nNew England is that when the new moon is turned downward, it cannot\nhold water. Hence the familiar sayings of a wet or a dry moon.\n\nIf the Stormy Petrel (Mother Cary\u2019s Chicken) is seen following in\nthe wake of a ship at sea, all sailors know that a storm is brewing,\nand that it is time to make all snug on board. As touching this\nsuperstition, I find the following entry in the Rev. Richard Mather\u2019s\n_Journal_: \u201cThis day, and two days before, we saw following ye ship a\nlittle bird, like a swallow, called a Petterill, which they say doth\nfollow ships against foule weather.\u201d\n\nTherefore, in honest Jack\u2019s eyes, to shoot one of these little\nwanderers of the deep, not only would invite calamity, but would\ninstantly bring down a storm of indignation on the offender\u2019s head. And\nwhy, indeed, should this state of mind in poor Jack be wondered at,\nwhen he hears so much about kraaken, mermaids, sea-serpents, and the\nlike chimera, and when those who walk the quarter-deck readily lend\nthemselves to the fostering of his delusions?\n\nA mare\u2019s tail in the morning is another sure presage of foul weather.\nThis consists in a long, low-hanging streak of murky vapor, stretching\nacross a wide space in the heavens, and looking for all the world like\nthe trailing smoke of some ocean steamer, as is sometimes seen long\nbefore the steamer heaves in sight. The mare\u2019s tail is really the black\nsignal of the advancing storm, drawn with a smutty hand across the fair\nface of the heavens. Hence the legend,--\n\n    \u201cMackerel sky and mare\u2019s tails\n    Make lofty ships carry low sails.\u201d\n\nIf the hedgehog comes out of his hole on Candlemas Day,[4] and sees his\nshadow, he goes back to sleep again, knowing that the winter is only\nhalf over. Hence the familiar prediction:--\n\n    \u201cIf Candlemas day is fair and clear,\n    There\u2019ll be two winters in the year.\u201d\n\nThe same thing is said of the bear, in Germany, as of the hedgehog or\nwoodchuck.\n\nThe Germans say that the badger peeps out of his hole on Candlemas Day,\nand if he finds snow on the ground, he walks abroad; but if the sun is\nshining, he draws back into his hole again. At any rate, the habits of\nthis predatory little beast are considered next to infallible by most\ncountry-folk in New England.\n\nA similar prediction carries this form: On Candlemas Day just so far as\nthe sun shines in, just so far will the snow blow in.\n\n    \u201cAs far as the sun shines in on Candlemas Day\n    So far will the snow blow in before May:\n    As far as the snow blows in on Candlemas Day\n    So far will the sun shine in before May.\u201d\n\nFrom these time-honored prophecies is deduced the familiar warning:--\n\n    \u201cJust half your wood and half your hay\n    Should be remaining on Candlemas Day.\u201d\n\nAn old Californian predicted a dry season for the year 1899, because\nhe had noticed that the rattlesnakes would not bite of late, a never\nfailing sign of drought which few, we fancy, would feel inclined to put\nto the test.\n\nAn unusually cold winter is indicated by the greater thickness of apple\nskins, corn husks, and the like.\n\nThe direction from which the wind is blowing usually indicates what the\nweather will be for the day,--wet or dry, hot or cold,--but here is a\nrhymed prediction which puts all such prophecies to shame:--\n\n    \u201cThe West wind always brings wet weather\n    The East wind wet and cold together,\n    The South wind surely brings us rain,\n    The North wind blows it back again.\n      If the sun in red should set,\n      The next day surely will be wet;\n      If the sun should set in gray,\n      The next will be a rainy day.\u201d\n\nThis falls more strictly in line with many of the so-called signs\nwhich, like the old woman\u2019s indigo, if good would either sink or\nswim, she really didn\u2019t know which; or like the predictions of the old\nalmanac makers, who so shrewdly foretold rain in April, and snow in\nDecember.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nIV\n\nSIGNS OF ALL SORTS\n\n    \u201cAuthorized by her grandam.\u201d--_Macbeth._\n\n\nIf you sneeze before breakfast, you will have company before dinner.\n\nIf you pick the common red field lily, it will make you freckled.\n\nA spark in the candle denotes a letter in the post office for you.\n\nTo hand a cup with two spoons in it to any one, is a sign of a coming\nwedding in the family.\n\nIf a cat is allowed to get into bed with an infant, the child will be\nstrangled by the animal sucking its breath, or by lying across its\nchest.\n\nIf my right ear burns, some one is talking about me, hence the familiar\nsaying, \u201cI\u2019ll make his ears tingle for him.\u201d Pliny records this omen.\nAlso in \u201cMuch Ado About Nothing,\u201d Beatrice exclaims, \u201cWhat fire is in\nmine ears!\u201d\n\nWhen the right ear itches or burns, the person so affected will shortly\ncry; when it is the left, he will laugh. One version runs in this\nwise:--\n\n    \u201cLeft or right\n    Good at night.\u201d\n\nLate blossoming of vines or fruit trees will be followed by much\nsickness. This probably rests upon the theory that a mild autumn will\nbe a sickly autumn, which is the same thing as saying that unseasonable\nweather is pretty sure to be unwholesome weather. The same prediction\nis expressed by the old saying that \u201cA green Christmas makes a fat\nchurch-yard.\u201d Both predictions agree with the observations of medical\nscience.\n\nA spoon in the saucer and another in the cup denote that the person\nusing them will be a spendthrift, and probably come to want; but two\nspoons to one dish of ice-cream denote foresight and true thrift.\n\n    \u201cSing before you eat,\n    Cry before you sleep.\u201d\n\nOr, if you sing before breakfast, you will cry before supper.\n\nPull out one gray hair, and ten will grow in its place.\n\nShould you happen to let drop your scissors, or other sharp instrument,\nand they should stick upright in the floor, it is a sign that you will\nsoon see a stranger.[5]\n\nDropping the dishcloth has the same significance.\n\nTwo cowlicks, growing on the same person\u2019s head, denote that he will\neat his bread in two kingdoms--that is, be a traveller in foreign parts.\n\nShould a cow swallow her cud, the animal will die, unless another cud\nbe immediately given her.\n\nHard-hack[6] was thus named by the early colonists, who declared that\nthe tough stalk turned the edge of the mower\u2019s scythe.\n\nIf you see a white horse, you will immediately after see a red-haired\nwoman.\n\nBubbles gathering on top of a cup of coffee or chocolate indicate, if\nthey cluster at the middle, or \u201cform an island\u201d in prophetic parlance,\nmoney coming to you. If, however, the bubbles gather at the sides of\nthe cup, you will not get the money.\n\nTwo chairs, placed by accident back to back, are a sign of a stranger.\n\nComing in at one door, and immediately going out at another, has the\nsame meaning.\n\nA tea-stem floating in the tea-cup--a common thing before the day of\ntea-strainers--also foreshadows the coming of a stranger. Old people\nsay \u201cyou must butter his head and throw him under the table, if the\ncharm is to work.\u201d A tea-leaf means the same thing, its length denoting\nwhether the stranger will be short or tall.\n\nTo let fall your fork is a sure sign that you are going to have a\ncaller on that very evening, or, as the girls declare, have \u201ca beau.\u201d\nA very estimable lady said when telling me this, that when she was\na young girl she never had that accident happen to her that she did\nnot immediately get ready for a caller; and she added that seldom, or\nnever, was this sign known to fail.\n\nIf a young girl has the nosebleed, it is a sign that she is in love.[7]\n\nIf your nose itches you will either\n\n    \u201cSee a stranger,\n    Kiss a fool,\n    Or be in danger.\u201d\n\nIf your left hand itches, you will shortly receive money; if it is the\nright hand, get ready to shake hands with a stranger.\n\nA ringing or \u201cdumb-bell\u201d in the ear denotes that you may expect\nstartling news of some sort.\n\nA swarm of bees in June is worth a silver spoon.\n\nFour persons meeting in a crowded place and shaking hands cross-wise,\nis a sign that one of the party will be married within the year.\n\nShould you meet a person on the stairs, one or the other must go back,\nor some misfortune will happen to both.\n\nIf you should fail to fold up your napkin after a meal at which you are\na guest, you will not again be invited to that table.\n\nThink of the devil and he is at your elbow. The point of this robust\nsaying is now much softened into \u201cthink of some one and he is at your\nelbow\u201d; but it seems at first to have had reference to an enemy or to\none you would rather avoid. The saying is quite common to-day.\n\nA very old rhyme about the way in which one wears out a shoe, runs in\nthis way:--\n\n    \u201cTip at the toe, live to see woe,\n    Wear at the side, live to be a bride,\n    Wear at the ball, live to spend all,\n    Wear at the heel, live to save a deal.\u201d\n\nEven the days of the week possess peculiar significance to the future\nwelfare of the newborn infant:--\n\n    \u201cSunday\u2019s child is full of grace,\n    Monday\u2019s child is fair of face,\n    Tuesday\u2019s child is solemn and sad,\n    Wednesday\u2019s child is merry and glad;\n    Thursday\u2019s child is inclined to thieving,\n    Friday\u2019s child is free in giving:\n    Saturday\u2019s child works hard for his living.\u201d\n\nThis saying is familiar to every one:--\n\n    \u201cWhistling girls and crowing hens\n    Always come to no good ends.\u201d\n\nOr, as they say it in the Old Country:--\n\n    \u201cA whistling woman and crowing hen,\n    Are neither fit for God nor men.\u201d\n\nAn old woman, skilled in such matters, declares that when vagrant cats\nbegin to collect around the back-yards, \u201cit\u2019s a sure sign the winter\u2019s\nbroken.\u201d\n\nWhistling to keep one\u2019s courage up, or for a wind, are rather in the\nnature of an invocation to some occult power than a sign. Sailors, it\nis well known, have a superstitious fear of whistling at sea, believing\nit will bring on a storm.\n\nYawning is said to be catching. Well, if it is not catching, it comes\nso near to being so, that most persons accept it as a fact; and laugh\nas we may, daily experience goes to confirm it as such, and must\ncontinue to do so until some more satisfactory explanation is found\nthan we yet know of.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nV\n\nCHARMS TO GOOD LUCK\n\n    \u201cThe nights are wholesome; then no planets strike,\n    No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm.\u201d\n\n\nOf the things closely associated in the popular mind with good or bad\nluck, what in short one may or may not do to obtain the favors or turn\naside the frowns of fortune, the list is a long one. We say \u201cGod bless\nme!\u201d when we sneeze, as an invocation to good luck. Then, for instance,\nit is considered lucky to find a cast-off horseshoe, or a four-leaved\nclover, or to see the new moon over the right shoulder, or to have a\nblack cat in the house, especially one that comes to you of its own\naccord. Then there also is the lucky pocket-piece, which the owner\nwill seldom part with, although I once heard a man loudly lamenting\nthat he had \u201csold his luck\u201d by doing so. There also is the lucky-bone\nof a haddock,[8] the wishing-bone of a chicken, the lucky base-ball\nbat, and, what is still more strange, the lucky spider, if one happens\nto be found on one\u2019s clothes,--though this will hardly prevent, we\nimagine, all womankind from screaming out to the nearest person to come\nand brush off the hateful little creature. Many will not kill a spider\non account of this belief, which is supposed to be derived from the\nromantic story of King Robert Bruce and the spider.\n\nThe familiar saying, \u201cThere\u2019s luck in odd numbers,\u201d lingers in song\nand story. Does not Rory O\u2019More say so? Odd numbers or combinations of\nodd numbers are almost invariably chosen in buying lottery tickets.\nMoreover, they have received the highest official sanction for a\nvery long time. In the \u201cArt of Navigation,\u201d printed in the year 1705,\nthe following rule is laid down for firing salutes by ships of the\nroyal navy: \u201cto salute with an odd number of guns, the which are to\nbe answered with fit correspondency. And the number of odd guns is so\npunctually observed, that whenever they are given _even_ \u2019tis received\nfor an infallible sign that either the captain or some noted officer is\ndead in the voyage.\u201d\n\nThe above rule or custom has held good to this day. In the United\nStates the prescribed salute to the President is twenty-one guns;\nseventeen to the Vice-President, and so on in descending scale,\naccording to rank, in the several branches of the civil, military, and\nnaval service. Medicines are often taken an odd number of times, though\nnot invariably, as they once were. A hen is always set on an odd number\nof eggs, although I could never find any one who could give any other\nreason than custom for it. What Biddy does when she \u201csteals her own\nnest\u201d is not ascertained.\n\nIt appears from such data as we have been able to gather that\nthe number Three and its multiple Nine were formerly held to be\nindispensable to the successful working of the magician\u2019s arts. In\n\u201cMacbeth,\u201d the weird sisters mutter the dark incantation:--\n\n    \u201cThrice to thine, and thrice to mine,\n    And thrice again to make up nine!--\n    Peace!--the charm\u2019s wound up.\u201d\n\nAnd yet again, when concocting their charmed hell-broth, while awaiting\nthe coming of the ambitious thane to learn his fate of them, the mystic\nrite begins by declaring the omens propitious:--\n\n    \u201c1 _Witch_. Thrice the brinded cat hath mewed.\n     2 _Witch_. Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined.\u201d\n\nWith the Romans, three handfuls of salt cast over a dead body had all\nthe virtues of a funeral. Pirates were formerly hung at low-water\nmark and left hanging there until three tides had overflowed them.\nShakespeare makes Falstaff say: \u201cThis is the third time; I hope good\nluck lies in odd numbers.\u201d Even now, the cabalistic phrase \u201cthird time\nnever fails,\u201d prompts the twice unsuccessful candidate for fortune\u2019s\nfavors to renewed and more vigorous effort. In short, there seems to be\nno end to the virtues inherent in odd numbers.\n\nBut as all rules have their exceptions, so with this prophetic rule\nof three, the fates would seem to have ordained that it might be made\nto work both ways. Simply by keeping one\u2019s eyes and ears open one\nsees and hears many things. An enterprising news-gatherer jots down a\nbit of superstition touching the fateful side of the rule in question\nthat came to him in this easy sort of way: \u201cI heard,\u201d he says, \u201ca most\nsensible person, the other day, exclaim because Queen Victoria had been\nobliged twice to postpone her trip to the south of France, once on\naccount of the unsettled state of affairs over there, and again because\nof the unsettled state of the weather. \u2018The third time will be fatal\nto her,\u2019 added this cheerful individual; \u2018you just mark my words.\u2019\u201d\n\nIt is nevertheless true, however, that the cabalistic number Thirteen\nstands quite alone, so far as we are informed, as the sombre herald of\nmisfortune. But here, as elsewhere, the exception only goes to prove\nthe rule.\n\nA gentleman holding a lucrative office under the government once told\nme that two of his clerks wore iron finger rings, because they were\nsupposed to be lucky. It is a matter of general knowledge that certain\ngems or precious stones are worn on scarf-pins, watch-chains, finger\nrings, or other articles of personal adornment solely on account of the\nprevailing belief in their efficacy to ward off sickness or disease,\nprevent accidents, keep one\u2019s friends,--in short, to bring the wearer\ngood luck. This branch of the subject will be more fully treated of\npresently.\n\nMore unaccountable still is the practice of wearing or carrying about\non one\u2019s person a rabbit\u2019s foot as a talisman, that timid little\nanimal always having been intimately associated with the arts of the\nmagician and sorcerer. But it must always be bunny\u2019s hind foot. The\ninsatiate passion for novelty, we understand, has now installed a\nturkey\u2019s claw in the room of the rabbit\u2019s foot, to some extent, showing\nthat even credulity itself is the obedient slave of fashion. Of course\nneither the rabbit\u2019s foot nor turkey\u2019s claw is worn in its natural\nrough state, but under the jeweller\u2019s skilful hands, tipped with gold\nor silver and set with the wearer\u2019s favorite gem (topaz, amethyst, or\nwhatever it may be), the charm, or mascot, becomes an ornament to be\nworn, either suspended from the neck, the wrist, or belt, or as a clasp\nfor the cape. The practice of wearing a caul,[9] or an amulet blessed\nby the priest, clearly denotes that here rich and poor meet on common\nground. It is not proposed, however, to treat of those beliefs which\nmay be directly traced to the teachings of a particular church, or\nthat have become so embedded in the faith it inculcates as to be an\ninseparable part of it The Protestant world, or that part of it we live\nin, is intrenched in no such stronghold.\n\nTo continue the catalogue:--\n\nA black cat, without a single white hair, is a witch of the sort that\nbrings luck to the house. Keeping one also insures to unmarried females\nof the family plenty of sweethearts.\n\nA branch of the mountain ash kept in the house, or hung out over the\ndoor, will keep the witches out.\n\nGood luck is frequently crystallized in certain uncouth but expressive\nsayings, such, for example, as \u201cnigger luck,\u201d \u201clucky strike,\u201d or\n\u201cCunard luck,\u201d referring to the remarkable exemption of a certain\ntransatlantic steamship company from loss of life by disasters to\nits ships. This particular saying has been quite frequently heard\nof late in consequence of the really providential escape of the\nsteamship _Pavonia_, of that line, from shipwreck, while on her voyage\nfrom Liverpool to Boston. What was uppermost in the minds of some of\nthe passengers and crew may easily be inferred from the following\nextract, with which a relation of the good ship\u2019s fortunate escape from\nfoundering concludes:--\n\n\u201cThe change of the moon passed at 9.30 A.M., and the light breeze\nchanged at almost the same moment. The gulls were sitting on the water,\nwhich was a sign of luck, according to the sailors. Then we discovered\na lot of \u2018Mother Carey\u2019s chickens\u2019 near the ship, which was also a\nlucky omen, so we felt that Friday was to be our lucky day.\u201d\n\nUnquestionably, the horseshoe is the favorite symbol of good luck\nthe world over. You will seldom see a man so much in a hurry that he\nwill not stop to pick one up. Although the iron of which the shoe is\nfashioned is no longer endowed with magic power, as it once was, no\nsooner has it been beaten by the smith into the form of a shoe than,\n_presto_, it becomes a power to conjure with. Popular _dictum_ even\nprescribes that the shoe must be placed with the prongs upward or its\nvirtue will be lost. It must, moreover, be a cast-off shoe or the charm\nwill not work.\n\nThe luck of the horseshoe has become proverbial. We are now dealing\nwith facts of common knowledge. Indeed, we do not see how any form\nof superstition could be more fully or more freely recognized in the\neveryday affairs of life. Even those who scout the superstition itself,\nas a thing unworthy of serious attention, do not hesitate to avail\nthemselves of its popularity for their own ends, thus giving it a still\nwider currency. In short, this hoary superstition is thriftily turned\nto account by every imaginable device to tickle the fancy or to turn a\npenny, although in being thus employed it has quite cut loose from its\nancient traditions.\n\nThus it is that we now see the horseshoe stamped on monograms, on\nChristmas cards, on book covers, or even used in the title of a book,\nmost effectively, as in the case of \u201cHorseshoe Robinson.\u201d It also is\nseen worked into floral designs to be hung above the bride\u2019s head, at\na wedding, or reverently laid upon the last resting-place of the dead.\nSurely superstition could go no farther.\n\nThe horseshoe has also come to be a favorite trade-mark with\nmanufacturers and dealers in all sorts of wares. It is elaborately\nworked up in gold and silver charms for those who would rather be lucky\nthan not, regardless of the original _dictum_ that, to be serviceable,\nthe shoe must be made of iron and nothing else. There lies before me,\nas I write this, the advertisement of a certain farrier, who rests\nhis plea for custom upon the fact that as horseshoes bring luck to\nthe purchaser, therefore every horse should be shod with his shoes. A\ncertain horseshoers\u2019 union attributes its victory over the employers,\nin the matter of shorter hours, to the efficacy of its trade symbol.\nAnd not long ago the fortunate escape of Boston from a disastrous\nconflagration was heralded in a daily paper with a cut of a horseshoe\nprefixed to the account.\n\nOf late years, too, the horseshoe has grown to be a favorite symbol in\nthe house,--a sort of household fetich, as it were,--if not because of\nany faith in its traditional ability to bring good luck, one is at loss\nto know why a piece of old iron should be so conspicuously hung up in\nthe houses of rich and poor alike.\n\nThe horseshoe was always, also, the favorite emblem of the tavern and\ninn, in all countries. Such signs as the \u201cThree Horseshoes,\u201d once swung\nin Boston streets. In Samuel Sewall\u2019s Diary we find the following\nentry: \u201cSanctifie to me ye deth of old Mrs. Glover who kept the 3\nhorseshoes, and who dyed ye last night.\u201d Sewall, who lived in the\nimmediate neighborhood, leaves us in the dark as to whether he mourned\nmost for Mrs. Glover or her exhilarating mixtures.\n\nReturning to its proper place in folk-lore, I myself have seen the\nhorseshoe nailed to the bowsprit of a vessel, over house and barn\ndoors, and even to bedsteads. In the country, its supposed virtues\ncontinue to hold much of their old sway, while among sailors a belief\nin them has suffered little, if any, loss since the day of Nelson\nand of the _Victory_. On some very old country house, as old as the\nwitchcraft times, one can still see the shape of a horseshoe wrought in\nthe brickwork of the chimneys, as well as one nailed above the door,\nthus cleverly closing every avenue against the entrance of witches.\nBut of all the odd caprices connected with the use of the horseshoe,\nthat related of Samuel Dexter, of Boston, must carry off the palm for\noddity. He, being dissatisfied with his minister, Dr. Codman, nailed a\nhorseshoe to his pew door, and then nailed up the pew itself.\n\nThe origin of this remarkable superstition is involved in the obscurity\nof past ages. It is usually attributed to the virtue of cold iron to\nkeep witches out, through their inability to step over it, and is\nprobably allied to that other superstition about the driving of iron\nnails into the walls of Roman houses, with a like object. Beyond that\npoint its meaning grows more and more obscure. The conjunction, so\nessential to perfect the charm, between iron in any form and the horse,\nis said to have come from the magical properties attributed to the\nanimal by the ancients, in whose mythology the horse always plays an\nimportant part. King Richard, on Bosworth field, offers his kingdom for\na horse, and Poor Richard, in his Almanac, tells us how a man lost his\nlife for want of a nail in his horse\u2019s shoe. Butler, from whose pen\nfigures of speech gush forth like water from a never-failing spring,\ndeclares that evil spirits are chased away by dint\n\n    \u201cof sickle, horseshoe, hollow flint.\u201d\n\nIn Gay\u2019s fable of \u201cThe Old Woman and her Cats,\u201d the alleged witch\nlaments that\n\n    \u201cStraws laid across my path retard;\n    The horseshoes nail\u2019d each threshold\u2019s guard.\u201d\n\nTurning now from the merely passive to the active agency on the part of\nthe seeker after fortune\u2019s favors, we enter upon a no less marvellous,\nbut vastly more attractive, field. Here is something that is tried\nevery day:--\n\nOf two persons breaking apart the wishing-bone of a chicken before\nforming a wish, the one getting the longer piece is assured of the\nfulfilment of his or her wish; the shorter piece bodes disappointment.\n\nAnother way to test fickle fortune is to form a wish while a meteor\nis falling; if one can do so the desire will be gratified. This\nsaying would be no bad symbol of the importance of seizing a golden\nopportunity ere it has escaped us. As the immortal Shakespeare says:--\n\n    \u201cThere is a tide in the affairs of men\n    Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.\u201d\n\nIf a load of hay goes by, make a wish on it and your wish will be\ngratified, provided you instantly look another way. But the charm will\nsurely be broken if, like Lot\u2019s wife, you should look back.\n\nTo see the new moon with the old in her arms, a much more common thing\nby the way in this country than in England, is considered lucky; as\nruns an old couplet:--\n\n    \u201cLate, late yestreen, I saw the new moone\n    Wi\u2019 the auld moone in hir armes.\u201d\n\nHere is another instance wherein the auguries differ. An old sea-rhyme\nfounded on the same thing adds this prediction:--\n\n    \u201cAnd if we gang to sea, master,\n    I fear we\u2019ll come to harm.\u201d\n\nIt is also accounted good luck to see the new moon over the right\nshoulder, especially if you instantly feel in your pocket and find\nmoney there, as your luck thereby will be prodigiously increased, but\nyou must take care instantly to turn the money over in your pocket.\n\nBurglars are said to carry a piece of coal, or some other object, about\nwith them for luck.\n\nUpon getting out of bed in the morning, always put the right foot\nforemost. Slightly altered, this injunction has been turned into the\nfamiliar saying: \u201cPut your best foot foremost.\u201d Dr. Johnson was so\nparticular about this rule, that if he happened to plant his left foot\non the threshold of a house, he would turn back, and re\u00ebnter right foot\nforemost. Similarly, one must always begin dressing the right foot\nfirst. An exception occurs to us: in military tactics it is always the\nleft foot that goes foremost.\n\nProfessional gamblers are firm believers in the element of luck, the\nworld over. According to their _dictum_, a youth who has never gambled\nbefore, is sure to be lucky at his first essay at play. Finding a piece\nof money or carrying a dice in the pocket also insures good fortune,\nthey say.\n\nTo secure luck at cards or to change your luck, when it is going\nagainst you, you must walk three times around your chair or else blow\nupon the cards with your breath. Beyond reasonable doubt you will be a\nwinner. Not so very long ago, it was the custom for women to offer to\nsit cross-legged in order to procure luck at cards for their friends.\nI have seen players spit on their hands for the same purpose. Sitting\ncross-legged, with the fingers interlaced, was formerly considered the\ncorrect magical posture.\n\nThe hair will grow better if cut on the waxing of the moon. This notion\nis probably based on the symbolism of the moon\u2019s waxing and waning, as\nassociated with growing and declining nature.\n\nA Newfoundland fisherman to-day spits on the first piece of silver\ngiven him for luck. In the Old Country this was also a common practice\namong the lower class of hucksters, upon receiving the price of the\nfirst goods sold on that day, which they call \u201chansell.\u201d[10] Boxers\noften spit into their hands before engaging in a set-to, as also did\nthe schoolboys of my own age, who thought it a charm to prevent the\nmaster\u2019s ferule from hurting them as much as it otherwise would, but\nlater found out their mistake.\n\nIn some country districts the belief still holds that if a live frog\ncan be passed through a sick cow the animal will get well, but the frog\nmust be alive and kicking, or the charm will not work.\n\nSalt was formerly the first thing taken into a new house, in the belief\nthat the occupants would never want for bread in that house.\n\n\u201cHappy is the corpse that the rain rains on.\u201d This is a sort of\ncorollary to the belief, that it is a fortunate sign if the sun shines\non a newly wedded couple.\n\nThe long established custom of laying the head of the dead to the east\nis probably a survival of the ancient sun-worship. It is traced back to\nthe Ph\u0153nicians. In Shakespeare\u2019s \u201cCymbeline\u201d we find this reference to\nit:--\n\n    \u201cWe must lay his head to the east:\n    My father hath reason for\u2019t.\u201d\n\nWe are reminded that ropes are coiled, cranks turned, and eggs beaten\nwith the sun. One writer upon Folk-lore[11] remarks that passing the\nbottle at table from right to left, instead of being merely proper\nform, really comes from this ancient superstition.\n\nTelling the bees of a death in the family was formerly a quite general\npractice, if indeed it has entirely died out. I know that it has been\npractised in New England within my own recollection. It was the belief\nthat a failure to so inform the bees would lead to their dwindling away\nand dying, according to some interpreters, or to their flying away,\naccording to others. The manner of proceeding was to knock with the\nhouse-key three times against the hives, at the same time telling the\nnoisy inmates that their master or mistress, as the case might be, was\ndead. One case is reported where an old man actually sung a psalm in\nfront of some hives. In New England the hives were sometimes draped in\nblack. The semi-sacred character with which antiquity invested this\nwonderful little insect sufficiently accounts for the practice. Mr.\nWhittier has some verses about it in \u201cHome Ballads.\u201d Beating upon a pot\nor kettle when bees are swarming comes from Virgil\u2019s injunction, in the\nlike case, to raise tinkling sounds.\n\nLaying a plate for a dead person was in pursuance of the belief that,\nif it were omitted, one death in the family would speedily be followed\nby another.\n\nThe Passing Bell was originally instituted to drive away evil spirits,\nas well as to bespeak the prayers of all good Christians for a soul\njust leaving the body. Sitting up with a dead body originated in a like\npurpose. The former custom is dimly reflected in the tolling of the\nbell, the number of strokes indicating the age of the deceased.\n\nIt is considered lucky to put on a garment wrong side out. I knew of\na sea-captain who, on rising late in the morning of the day he was to\nsail, in his hurry, put on his drawers wrong side out. He said to his\nwife, with a laugh, that he would wear them so for luck. The ship in\nwhich he sailed was lost, with all on board, on the very same night;\nand, as it turned out, the captain\u2019s mistake in putting on his clothes\nproved the means of identifying his mutilated remains when they were\nfound on the beach the next morning.\n\nThe trial to discover a witch, made use of by the circle of hysterical\nyoung girls in the time of the lamentable witchcraft terror, was to\ntake a sieve and a pair of scissors or shears, stick the points of the\nshears in the wood of the sieve, and let two of them hold it balanced\nupright on the tips of their two fingers; then to ask St. Peter and St.\nPaul if a certain person, naming the one suspected, was a witch. If the\nright one was hit upon, the sieve would suddenly turn round.\n\nAs usual, Butler has something to say of this charm:--\n\n    \u201cTh\u2019 oracle of the sieve and shears\n    That turns as certain as the spheres.\u201d\n\nAnother similar charm is that of the Bible and key. I do not learn of\nits being practised of late, though it has been put to the trial since\nI can remember, to discover a thief. It is done in this way. The key is\nplaced upon a certain chapter in the Bible, after which the sacred book\nis shut and tightly fastened. Both are then hung to a nail. The name of\nthe suspected person is then repeated three times by some one present,\nwhile another recites:--\n\n    \u201cIf it turns to thee, thou art the thief.\u201d\n\nShould the key have turned, the guilt is, of course, fixed upon the\nreal criminal.\n\nPerhaps the manner of proceeding in such cases will be made clearer by\nthe following relation of an actual test and its results, which took\nplace in England some thirty years ago, and was given to the world as\na curious instance of the degree of superstition then still existing\nin many parts of Great Britain. The account goes on to say that: \u201cAt\nthe Cricklade Petty Sessions, in Wiltshire, a matron named Eliza Glass\nmade a statement which was briefly as follows: Her father had lost\nor missed the sum of four pounds sterling, and suspicion, apparently\nunfounded, fell upon herself and her husband. The theory was formed\nthat she had stolen a key, and thus her husband had obtained access to\nthe money. It was determined to test the matter by the \u2018Bible and key.\u2019\nThe key was placed in the Bible on a particular place in Solomon\u2019s\nSong, the book closed and tied, and suspended by a string passed\nthrough the handle of the key, which protruded. One of the persons then\nthought of the suspected individual, the edge of the book turned toward\nthe tester, and Mrs. Glass was adjudged guilty, or as she expressed\nit, \u2018upset.\u2019 All this was in her absence. But she knew that she was\ninnocent, and when informed of her condemnation adopted tactics which\nothers, more astute than she, had used before her; she determined to\nimpeach the credibility of the witness. Taking a New Testament she put\nthe key on the words \u2018Blessed are the pure in heart,\u2019 and suspending\nthe book as before, she was acquitted. Troubled by the apparent\ninconsistency of the Old and the New Testaments, she inquired of the\nmagistrates what was to be done. They dismissed her with the remark\nthat the bench could not interfere, and that, if innocent, she ought to\nbe satisfied with the approval of a good conscience.\u201d\n\nThrusting a knife between the leaves of a Bible to obtain a name for a\nchild has not gone out of use even yet.\n\nThe Wassail, or Loving Cup, is nothing but a relic of superstition,\nlike drinking of healths, which custom, though no longer an\nindispensable ceremonial on state occasions, as it has been within the\ncentury, lives yet in the spirit whenever two friends happen to pledge\neach other in a social glass, silently or otherwise. The familiar\n\u201cHere\u2019s to you!\u201d is neither more nor less than an invocation to good\nluck.\n\nThrowing an old shoe is perhaps most intimately associated, in the\npopular mind, with marriage ceremonies; but it is also found doing\nduty in other matters concerning personal advantage or welfare,--as\nwhen, for instance, a person was going out to transact business, it was\nconsidered lucky to throw an old shoe after him. The same thing was\ndone when servants were seeking or entering upon situations. So far,\nthe meaning of the act is simple enough, the controlling idea being to\npropitiate success.\n\nBut if we should divest an old shoe of its assumed mystical property,\nin the name of that superior wisdom which our cultured class is\nsupposed to possess, why would it not be as well, or even better, to\nthrow a new pair after the candidate for good fortune? But no, it must\nbe an _old_ shoe. And therein lies the whole philosophy of the matter.\nUnless we shall conform to the strict letter of this antiquated custom,\nthere will be no luck about the house.[12]\n\nIn Ben Jonson\u2019s \u201cMasque of Gypsies,\u201d we find this joyous couplet:--\n\n    \u201cHurle after an old shoe,\n    I\u2019ll be merry whate\u2019er I do.\u201d\n\nMuch to the same purport is Tennyson\u2019s:--\n\n    \u201cAnd wheresoe\u2019er thou move, good luck\n    Shall throw her old shoe after.\u201d\n\nApropos of beliefs affecting tradespeople of to-day, a newspaper\nclipping notes the following curious custom prevailing among the street\npedlers and small storekeepers of New York, that has its origin with\nthe Russian Jews. In Baxter Street the clothing men and in Division\nStreet the milliners insist that a sale must be made before nine\no\u2019clock on Monday morning. No matter what the price and regardless of\nprofit or loss, some piece of goods must be turned into coin by that\nhour; otherwise the week will prove an unlucky one.\n\nOn the other hand, there is a firm belief in some parts of New England\nthat if you pay a bill on Monday, you will pay out money all the rest\nof the week. Hence, a very natural prejudice has arisen against paying\na bill on that day.\n\nShipmasters are admittedly very superstitious folk. I once knew of a\nship being named for a certain well-known cotton mill, because the\nsaid mill had always proved a lucky investment to its owners. Another\ninstance came to my knowledge where a master, himself part owner,\nconsulted a clairvoyant about naming his new ship. When the applicant\ntimidly suggested the name of _Pocahontas_, it was promptly rejected\nwith the remark: \u201cShe was nothing but an old Indian woman. What do you\nwant to name your vessel after her for? Call her the _Eagle Wing_.\u201d And\n_Eagle Wing_ it was.\n\nBy way of re\u00ebnforcing beliefs of this particular kind, we find a\nnewspaper writer saying, it is supposed in all sincerity, as otherwise\nhis offence would be unpardonable: \u201cDon\u2019t let us call any of the new\nships for Uncle Sam\u2019s navy after the state of Maine. For my part,\nnothing would induce me to go aboard a new _Maine_ or a new _Portland_.\nLike that watch of Captain Sigsbee, which has gone down into the ocean\nthree times, the last plunge being caused by the explosion of the\n_Maine_, a superstitious person would prefer to be left at home.\u201d\nWhether or not the navy bureau shall listen to this plea, and change\nthe name proposed for one of the new battle-ships, we fear that an\nineffaceable stigma will hereafter rest upon these two names in the\nminds not alone of seafaring folk, but of the whole generation to whom\nthe twin horrors which these names recall are so familiar.\n\nStill speaking of ships, I suppose few people are aware that until\nquite recently it was the custom, when a new ship was being built, to\nput a piece of money, silver or gold, under the heel of each mast. This\ncustom at once recalls that traditional one of putting coins under the\ncorner-stone of a new building; but unlike that, the former act was in\nfull accord with the prevalent notion that it would bring good luck to\nthe vessel.\n\nI find that some people are strongly impressed with the idea that\nthe month or day on which they were born will prove to them a most\ncritical one throughout their whole lives. Indeed, many strange\ncoincidences of this sort have come to my notice. If a man has happened\nto have a run of bad luck, he will often tell you that it is because\nhe was born under an unlucky star; if, on the other hand, he has been\nunusually prosperous, it is commonly said of him that he was born to\ngood luck. So wags the world!\n\nAs a fitting pendant to Jernegan\u2019s gold-from-sea-water scheme, Mrs.\nHowe\u2019s bank, and Miller\u2019s syndicate, all fresh in the memory of\neveryone, comes the \u201clucky-box\u201d humbug and its humiliating exposure,\nas I write. Upon the simple assurance that the possessor of this\nmarvellous box (which could be carried in the pocket) would become\ninstantly lucky, thousands were quickly sold, and the sale of more\nthousands was only stopped by the prompt intervention of the law!\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nVI\n\nCHARMS AGAINST DISEASE\n\n    \u201cI\u2019ll do, I\u2019ll do, and I\u2019ll do.\u201d--_Shakespeare._\n\n\nUnder this heading we shall first call attention to those plants having\nthe alleged power to cure disease or protect from evil influences.\nBut before doing so, we would suggest that the reader turn to his\nstandard or popular dictionary. He will there find the magical word\n\u201cabracadabra\u201d defined as a charm against fevers.\n\nIn former times, the young, unrolled fronds of the male fern were\nsupposed to guard the wearer against the Evil Eye or witchcraft; and\nwere not only worn by the credulous, but also given to the cattle as a\ncharm against being bewitched.[13] Moonwort fern had the reputation of\nbeing able to undo any lock, bolt, or bar, or even to draw nails from\nthe shoe of any horse treading upon it; and mistletoe to be a sure cure\nfor the stone.\n\nThe roots and flowers of violets are supposed to moderate anger, and\nto comfort and strengthen the heart--hence the significant name of\nheartsease.\n\nSt.-John\u2019s-wort is still gathered in some parts of the Old Country on\nthe Eve of St. John the Baptist, and hung out over the windows and\ndoors, in accord with the ancient superstition that it would keep\nout all evil spirits, and shield the inmates from storms and other\ncalamities.\n\nThe belief associated with holly, now so generally used for Christmas\ndecoration, comes from Pliny, who writes that \u201cthe branches of this\ntree defend houses from lightning, and men from witchcraft.\u201d The common\nmullein was also held to have potency against hurts inflicted by wild\nbeasts, or any evil coming near; and, similarly, the mountain ash was\nconsidered a protection against the Evil Eye, witches, and warlocks.\nSo, also, a sea-onion was often hung in the doorway, with a like object.\n\nAnother charm said to be very efficacious, though the writer has not\ntried it himself, yet having the sanction of age, is this: \u201cAgainst a\nwoman\u2019s chatter, taste at night, fasting, the root of a radish; on that\nday the chatter cannot harm thee.\u201d\n\nMany of the myths concerning plants still exist in a modified form\namong us, although it is no doubt true that most people who decorate\ntheir houses with evergreens and holly at Christmastide are ignorant of\nthe mysticism they so innocently perpetuate. Yet the Puritan fathers\nof New England were as utterly opposed to the decorating of houses\nof worship with \u201cChristmas Greens,\u201d as to the observance of the day\nitself. Could they but revisit the scenes of their earthly labors\nduring that season of unstinted festivity and good cheer, when man\u2019s\nheart is so warmed through the medium of his stomach, how shocked they\nwould be to see\n\n    \u201cGilt holly with its thorny pricks,\n      And yew and box, with berries small,\n    These deck the unused candlesticks,\n      And pictures hanging by the wall.\u201d\n\nBeyond a doubt, most of the long-standing beliefs, touching the\nremedies for this or that ailment, belong to a time when the services\nof a skilled physician or surgeon were not to be had for love or money,\nor medical aid be instantly summoned to the sick man\u2019s bedside by\ntelephone. This was especially true of the sparsely settled parts of\nthe country, where every prudent housewife laid in a stock of roots and\nherbs against sickness in the family. Some of what nowadays are called\n\u201cpopular remedies,\u201d are found in Josselyn\u2019s \u201cRarities.\u201d Here are a few\nof them:--\n\n\u201cThe skin of a hawk is good to wear on the stomach for the pain and\ncoldness of it. Lameness (or rheumatic pains) may be cured by lying\non a bearskin. Seal oil being cast upon coals will bring women out\nof their mother fits.\u201d The white cockle-shell was very good to stanch\nblood. For a rattlesnake bite, \u201ctheir hearts swallowed fresh, is a good\nantidote against their Venom, and their liver (the Gall taken out)\nbruised and applied to their Bitings is a present Remedy--\u201d a clear\nproof, it seems to us, that the theory of _similia similibus curantur_,\ndid not originate with Dr. Koch, or even with the justly eminent\nProfessor Pasteur.\n\nBut even the wonderful advance made by medical science is powerless\nto eradicate the superstitions concerning disease, which live and\nthrive in spite of progress, like the noxious weeds that baffle all the\nfarmer\u2019s vigilance. Then, there is a considerable constituency who,\nafter making a trial of the regular school of medicine, to no avail,\nnaturally fall back upon the _flotsam_ and _jetsam_ of bygone times,\nas a drowning man is said to grasp at a straw. As regards the former\nstatement it may be asserted, as of personal knowledge, that inherited\ndiseases, such as humors, scrofula, fits and the like, and even\nbirthmarks, in many parts of the country, are still looked upon and\ntalked about, not as a misfortune, but as a visitation upon the family\nso afflicted. I once heard one of these unfortunates described as \u201cthat\nfitty man.\u201d\n\nThe advent of Sirius, or the dog-star, was formerly supposed to exert\nan occult influence upon poor humanity. In that critical season all\npeople were advised to look carefully to their diet, to shun all\nbroiled, salted, and strong meats, and to drink small beer and such\nother liquors as aids to digestion.\n\nAs touching those natural objects having reputed curative properties\nor virtues, perhaps the common horsechestnut is the most familiar,\nfor the widespread belief in its power to charm away the rheumatism.\nSeveral gentlemen of my acquaintance habitually carry this magical\nnut on their persons, and one was actually found in the pocket of a\ndrowned man while this chapter was being written. Yet I have known\nthose who preferred the potato. A gentleman to whom I happened to\nmention the subject one day, to my profound surprise, immediately drew\nforth a healthy-looking tuber of a large size, which he emphatically\nasserted to be the only thing that had ever relieved a severe attack of\nrheumatism. I have also known nutmegs to be perforated, and hung round\nthe neck, for a similar purpose.\n\nWearing eel-skin garters is also more or less practised as a cure for\nthe same complaint.\n\nPutting sulphur in the shoes is also highly commended as a cure for\nrheumatism. I have known the same thing done as a preventive against an\nattack of grippe.\n\nPlain or galvanized iron finger rings are also worn for their supposed\nproperty to cure the rheumatism.\n\nAnother well-to-do business man gravely assured me that a nutmeg,\nsuspended round the neck by a string, was a sure cure for boils \u201c--and\nno mistake about it--\u201d and strongly urged giving it a trial.\n\nCorns and warts likewise are cured by carrying a horsechestnut on the\nperson. Another way is to rub the wart with a copper coin, throwing\nthe coin away immediately after. The person picking it up transfers the\nfungus to himself. Still another way is to first stick a pin in the\nwart, then to go and stick the same pin into an apple tree, though in\nEngland they say it must be an ash. The notion that such things were\n\u201ccatching\u201d seems to have suggested, in a way to be easily understood,\nthe theory of disease transference, to common folk. With this view a\npuppy is sometimes put into the same bed with a sick child, in the\nbelief that the sickness will pass from the child to the puppy, while\nboth are asleep. A case, in which this remedy was tried, came to my\nknowledge very recently.\n\nTo return to the subject of warts, some countryfolk highly recommend\nmaking the sign of the cross against the chimney-back with a piece of\nchalk, asserting that, as soon as the mark is covered with soot, the\nwarts will go away. Others, equally skilled in this sort of cures,\ncontend that if you steal some beans, and secretly bury them in the\nground the disagreeable excrescences will leave you. Should all else\nfail you must then sell your warts or corns to somebody. Who\u2019ll buy?\nWho\u2019ll buy?\n\nShould you have a decayed tooth extracted, the molar must instantly be\nthrown into the fire, or you will surely have a cat\u2019s tooth come in its\nplace. To dream of losing your teeth is, by many, considered a sure\nsign of coming trouble. Jet, powdered and mixed with wine, was once\nthought to be a sure remedy for the toothache.\n\nWearing a caul is a sure protection against drowning.\n\nOne must not kiss a cat; the doing so will expose one to catch some\ndisease.\n\nHostlers and stable boys believe that it keeps horses healthy to have a\ngoat about the stable.\n\nA gold wedding-ring is believed to be a cure for sties.\n\nWearing red yarn around the neck is esteemed a prevention against\nnose-bleeding.\n\nSticking your jack-knife into the head of the bed will prevent cramps.\nAnother way is to put both your slippers by your bedside, bottoms up,\nbefore retiring for the night. Should you neglect this, the cramps will\nsurely return. The gentleman who gave me this receipt, said he got it\nfrom his mother. The old way, as laid down in the books, was to lay out\nyour shoes in the form of a cross, before retiring.\n\nIn some country districts, a heavy growth of foliage is considered a\ncertain forerunner of coming sickness. The blossoming of trees, in\nautumn, also forebodes an epidemic of sickness.\n\nIt is a matter of common knowledge, that tooth charmers continue to\ncarry on a more or less lucrative trade in the country towns. \u201cWhat\ndid she do to you?\u201d was asked of a countryman who had just paid a\nvisit to one of these cunning women, at the urgent solicitation of a\nfriend. \u201cDo?\u201d was the bewildered answer, \u201cwhy, she didn\u2019t do nothing\nat all, but just said over something to herself, and the pain was all\ngone in a minute.\u201d This person, like a great many others, had a rooted\naversion to having a tooth \u201chauled,\u201d as he expressed it, and would have\nsuffered untold tortures from an aching tooth, rather than have gone\nto a regular practitioner. One woman, in particular, whom I have in\nmind, enjoys a wide reputation in the neighborhood where she practises\nher healing art. She simply mutters some incantation, or spell, and\n_presto_! the most excruciating pain is conjured away; so \u2019tis said.\n\nThere is a very old belief touching the virtue of a halter, that\nhas done service in hanging a criminal, to charm away the headache.\nProbably other powers are attributed to this barbarous instrument of\ndeath, for it is said to be a fact, that the negroes of the southern\nStates will pay a great price for a piece of the hangman\u2019s noose, to be\nkept in the house, as a charm.\n\nThe madstone is claimed to be a certain remedy for the bite of rabid\ndogs, snake bites and the like. The wonderful cures effected by one of\nthese magic stones, owned by a lady living in Mississippi (references\nbeing given to quite a number of well-known people, who had either\ntested the remarkable properties of this particular stone, or who had\npersonal knowledge of the facts), went the rounds of the newspapers\nsome years ago. Upon being applied to the wound or bite, the stone\nadhered to it until the virus was absorbed. It then fell off, and after\nbeing well cleaned, was again applied until it failed to hold. When\nthis took place, the patient was considered out of danger. With this\nstone it was claimed that the bite of a mad dog could be cured at any\ntime before hydrophobia had set in.\n\nA similar case is reported from Virginia, with details that leave no\ndoubt of the honesty of the principals concerned.\n\nThis was the famous Upperville madstone, which has been in the hands\nof the Fred family for over one hundred and fifty years. As its name\nindicates, the peculiar property of this stone is its apparent appetite\nfor the virus to be found in the wound made by the bite of any venomous\nanimal. This is the owner\u2019s story:\n\n\u201cThe stone was brought to Virginia in 1740 by Joshua Fred, who was a\nwell-to-do farmer in Warwickshire, England, and became an important\nlandowner in Fauquier County. By his wish his descendants had clung to\nthis stone as a priceless heirloom, and I am proud to say that their\nuse of it has always reflected credit upon the good, old-fashioned\nhospitality and kindliness characteristic of Virginians. It was well\nknown all over the country that anybody might go to the Fred farm with\nany unfortunate who had been bitten by a dog, and enjoy a certain\ncure without any cost. For a hundred years none of the Freds would\npermit any one who was cured in this way by the madstone to pay a\nfarthing, even for board or lodging or horse feed. In later years the\nvicissitudes of peace and war having somewhat affected the fortunes of\nvarious members of the family, it became the practice to allow visitors\nwho came to use the madstone to pay what they pleased for their\nentertainment and for the care of their teams. Beyond this, however, no\ncharge whatever was made for scores of most remarkable cures.\n\n\u201cA journal was kept by the various members of the family who had charge\nof the madstone, in which was entered the name and age of every person\non whom it was used, and the character of the wound treated. The\nentries in this book, made in the quaint handwriting of member after\nmember of the family, the most of whom have long since turned to dust\nin their graves, are most interesting.\n\n\u201cWhile the stone was in my possession I had occasion several times to\nuse it upon persons who were brought to me in great agony of mind over\nwounds they had received from the bite of rabid dogs. The last case\noccurred just a few days before the sale of the stone. A young boy was\nbrought to my house late at night, who had been bitten on the wrist.\nThe wound was an ugly one, and the father was in great distress of\nmind for fear hydrophobia would set in. I placed the stone on the boy\u2019s\nwrist at about ten o\u2019clock and went to bed. The father stayed up and\ntook care of the boy. At two o\u2019clock in the morning, he said, the stone\nlet go. The boy was then sound asleep. The father placed the stone,\nas I had told him to do, in a glass of milk, on which, when I saw it\nin the morning, there was a thick green scum. This seemed to be the\nusual result in all such cases. The stone was never known to let go\nuntil it had extracted all the poison, and, on being placed in a glass\nof warm water or milk, discharged a greenish liquid. The stone itself\nis perhaps an inch long by three-quarters wide, and is of a velvety,\ngrayish brown color. Years ago it was accidentally broken in two, and\nthe jeweller who placed a gold band around it to hold it together has\ntold me that the inside was a little darker than the outside and was\narranged in concentric layers.\u201d[14]\n\nAs an antidote against the bite of a dog, you must procure some of the\nhair of the dog that has bitten you. This has passed into a proverb\namong habitual topers, with particular reference to taking another\n\u201cnip.\u201d\n\nThere is also a more or less current belief, better grounded perhaps\nthan many others of a like nature, that a dog which has bitten a\nperson should not be killed until unmistakable symptoms of rabies have\nappeared.\n\nWho does not remember the \u201cblue-glass craze\u201d of some fifteen years\nago, which spread like wildfire over the land, and as suddenly died\nout? Whole communities went blue-glass mad. It was enough for some one\nto have advanced the theory that the cerulean rays were a cure-all,\nfor everybody to accept it with as much confidence as if it had been\none of the demonstrated facts of science. Dealers in blue-glass were\nabout the only ones to benefit by the craze which infallibly suggests\nits own moral, namely, that credulity has not wholly disappeared. Is\nthis doubted when hardly a day goes by in which some miraculous cure\nis not heralded abroad by the newspapers? Sometimes it is performed\nmerely by the laying on of hands; and most often without the aid of\nmedicines. Indeed, within a few years, there has sprung up a new school\nof healing, numbering its tens of thousands proselytes, which not only\nsets all the best established principles and traditions of the old\nschools at defiance, but also literally \u201cthrows physic to the dogs.\u201d\n\nThe practice of dipping in the healing waters of the ocean as a\ncure-all, or preventive of disease for the coming year, formerly\nprevailed on the Maine coast, particularly at Old Orchard Beach and in\nthe immediate neighborhood, to a very great extent. In its nature and\ninception the practice certainly more nearly approached the character\nof those annual pilgrimages made to the famous shrines of the Old\nWorld than anything which has come to my notice. Not to mince words,\nit proceeded from the same superstitious idea, just how originating\nno one can say. So, every year, on the anniversary of St. John the\nBaptist\u2019s day, a curious assemblage of country-folk, for miles around,\nmoved by a common impulse, wended their way to the nearest beaches,\nthere to dip in the briny waters, believed to be invested with especial\nhealing powers on this day only, like the bargains advertised to draw\ncustom, and thereby be freed from all the ills which flesh is heir to.\nOn that sacramental day of days, one saw a long string of nondescript\nwagons, loaded with old and young, moving along the sandy roads leading\ndown from their inland homes to the salt sea. Even the school children\nthought that they, too, must dip, in imitation of their elders. For\nsome unknown reason, the day, which not only had the sanction of long\ncustom but also is hallowed by such venerated traditions, was given up\nfor the 26th, which is quite like any other day of the year.\n\nAs all superstitious folk are generally the last to admit that they\nare so, so in this instance the followers of this singular custom in\ngeneral either maintain a discreet silence on the subject, or refuse\nto say more than that they go to the beach to bathe, on a fixed day,\nand at no other time, because other folks do so. The custom undoubtedly\narose from a firm belief in the miraculous power of the waters to heal\nthe sick, make the weak strong and the lame to walk--on that day only.\nThat it is a most healthful one few will deny, and as cleanliness is\nsaid to be next to godliness, an annual dip at Old Orchard is, at\nleast, one step toward the more spiritual condition.\n\nBut it would be a mistake to suppose this singular custom to be an\narticle of religious faith. It simply illustrates the mental and moral\nstamina of the period in which it flourished. For if founded in faith\nalone, there is strong probability that it might have survived the\nridicule to which it has mostly, if not quite, succumbed.\n\nWhether it be merely a coincidence or not, it is fact that June 26th\nis also the anniversary of the festival of St. Anne, to whose shrine\nannual pilgrimages are made by the faithful in the northern parts of\nthe United States and in Canada for purposes quite similar to those\nwhich once attracted a host of bathers to the Maine beaches, with the\ndifference that the Canadian shrine can show many visible tokens of its\nmarvellous curative powers, to be seen of all men. A visitor to the\nlittle church of St. Anne, de Beaupr\u00e9, remarks that \u201cby far the most\nconspicuous feature of the place was a towering trophy of crutches and\ncanes raised within the altar rail. These were of all sizes and shapes.\nTwo fresh additions rested against the rail, where they had been left\nby their recovered owners.\u201d\n\nApparently authentic accounts of miracles, performed at this venerated\nshrine, appear from time to time in the Canadian newspapers. One of\nthese relates, as a matter of news, that \u201ca young girl named Marie\nLevesque, who had only walked with difficulty during the last two\nyears, with the aid of crutches, was radically cured. The second case\nwas that of a young Irish lad, who, on returning from the church to\nthe boat which was to take him to Quebec, suddenly threw away his\ncrutch, exclaiming to one of his companions as he did so, \u2018Oh! I forgot\nto leave my crutch in the church.\u2019 \u2018But you will want it again,\u2019 was\nthe reply. \u2018No, not at all: I have no longer any use for it.\u2019 And with\nthat, he began walking about the deck, to all appearance as well as\never.\u201d\n\nIn addition to these cases, which come to us through reputable sources,\nthe _Quebec Gazette_ records the following: \u201cA man named Renaud, who\naccompanied the party from St. James\u2019 parish on Saturday, and who for\nthree years has had one side of his body completely paralyzed, was able\non Sunday to walk out of church leaning on the arm of his brother. A\nfarmer named Moulin, from Laprairie, who has been deaf for five years,\nfell on the floor apparently senseless, just as the officiating priest\nwas pronouncing the benediction. He declared that when the priest\nraised his hands he could feel a touch upon his ear, and at the same\nmoment, hearing the low tones of the Holy Father, fainted away from\nexcess of joy. He is said to have been in perfect possession of his\nsense of hearing on his return home. Another man, who had lost his\nsight through an attack of typhoid fever a year and a half ago, states\nthat immediately after crossing himself with the holy water he was well\nable to see all that was going on. His name is Bruneau, and he is a\nLavaltrie farmer.\u201d\n\nThe following cure for the croup was communicated to me by a very\nrespectable farmer now deceased. After talking of various remedies for\nthis dreaded scourge to young children, my informant observed that he\nknew a sure cure for it. Said he: \u201cTake a live chicken, cut it open and\ntake out the gizzard. Throw that into a basin of cold water and let it\nstay there. I know, for I\u2019ve seen it tried; but the chicken must be\nalive after the operation.\u201d\n\nOf a like nature was the advice given to a poor country woman who was\ndying of consumption, by one of those female charlatans who have so\nlegitimately replaced the fearsome witch doctors of the past. The\npatient was told that if she would swallow a live frog daily it would\ncure her. Poor creature! she had half the boys in the village catching\nfrogs for her, and kept them in a tub in the cellar, where they could\nbe handy. The treatment proved too heroic. She died.\n\nIt is a fact that touching for the King\u2019s Evil has been practised\nin New England as late as 1815, perhaps even later. By far the most\nremarkable instance of the possession of this power that has been\nrecorded upon what seems like incontrovertible evidence, is that of\nLieutenant William Robbe of Peterborough, New Hampshire.[15] One\nfeature of his treatment, which no doubt served to draw many clients\nto him, was the practice of giving to each afflicted person a piece\nof silver. In fact, so many applied that the lieutenant was seriously\ninterrupted in his legitimate occupations.\n\nA Doctor Young, who in the account referred to is described as having\nbeen an eminent practitioner for more than forty years in the town, is\nsaid to have declared that infants afflicted with scrofulous diseases,\ntumors and the like, too obstinate to yield to medical aid, did\nunquestionably receive almost immediate relief from the healing hand of\nLieutenant Robbe.\n\nThe wonderful healer continued to practise his semi-miraculous\ntreatment until he was no longer able to raise his hands, but even\nthen, so eager were the applicants, many of whom came from a distance,\nnot to be disappointed, that the feeble hands were lifted for him to\nthe sufferer\u2019s head.\n\nIn \u201cSupernaturalism in New England,\u201d Mr. Whittier speaks of one Austin,\na New Hampshire Quaker, who practised mental healing in his day. Those\nwho were unable to visit him were treated by letter. In truth, there is\nno new thing under the sun.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nVII\n\nOF FATE IN JEWELS\n\n\nWhat are the supposed attributes of certain precious stones but another\nform of superstition? According to the popular lore on this subject,\neach gem has its peculiar virtue or virtues, with which the credulous\nowner becomes forthwith invested. Authorities differ so much, however,\nin regard to this mystical language that there cannot be said to be\nany settled standard of meaning. If, therefore, we refer only to such\nprecious stones as have some superstition attached to them, we shall do\nall that comes within the range of our present purpose.\n\nIn \u201cA Lover\u2019s Complaint,\u201d Shakespeare sets forth, as understood in his\nday, \u201cEach stone\u2019s dear nature, worth, and quality.\u201d\n\nWe accept, therefore, without reserve, as a starting point his _dictum_\nthat--\n\n    \u201cpal\u00e9d pearls, and rubies set in blood\u201d\n\nindicated two extremes of passion, namely, shrinking modesty and bold\ndesire. He then goes on to describe the other symbolical gems thus:--\n\n    \u201cThe diamond, why, \u2018twas beautiful and hard,\n    Whereto his invised properties did tend;\n    The deep green emerald in whose fresh regard\n    Weak sights their sickly radiance do amend;\n    The heaven-hued sapphire and the opal blend\n    With objects manifold.\u201d\n\nThose interested in the sale of gems have observed that most precious\nstones have their brief day of popular favor, regardless of any\nsuperstition connected with them. In other words, the popularity\nof certain jewels chiefly depends upon the public taste, for the\ntime being. And the demand, therefore, fluctuates according as the\nparticular stone is fashionable or unfashionable.\n\nIt would require a volume to give the subject fair treatment, so\nlong is the list, and so abundant the material. Hardly a week goes\nby, however, in which some reference to the good or evil influence\nof this or that gem is not set forth in the public press, supported,\ntoo, by such an array of circumstantial evidence as to give color and\nauthenticity to the story. The opal and the moonstone are the gems most\noften figuring in these tales. By turns the opal has borne a good and\nbad reputation; by turns it has been as fashionable as its rare beauty\nwould seem of right to bespeak for it; and then again, owing to popular\ncaprice or the sudden revival of some antiquated superstition, it has\nlaid neglected in the jewellers\u2019 drawer for years.\n\nThe notion that the opal brings misfortune to the wearer is\ncomparatively modern. Formerly, it was believed to possess great\nvirtues as a talisman. In Ben Jonson\u2019s \u201cNew Inn,\u201d Ferret says:--\n\n      \u201cNo fern seed in my pocket; nor an opal\n    Wrapt in bay-leaf, in my left fist, to charm\n                    Thine eyes withal.\u201d\n\nIn Jonson\u2019s and Shakespeare\u2019s time, the opal was justly prized for\nits quick changes of color, exhibiting, as it does, almost all of the\nhues of the rainbow in rapid succession. It is quaintly described in\nan account of that day as \u201ca precious stone of divers colors, wherein\nappeareth the fiery shining of the carbuncle, the purple color of the\namethyst, and the green shew of the emerald, very strangely mixed.\u201d\n\nQuite naturally, dealers in gems have no patience with those\nsuperstitions unfavorable to the sale of their wares, although they\nshow no particular dislike toward those of a different nature, if their\nsales are thereby increased. So when a customer asks for something\nsynonymous with good luck, the obliging dealer usually offers him a\nmoonstone, and after a little chaffering the buyer departs, possessed\nof a duly authenticated amulet, or charm. Agate is another stone\nhaving, by common fame, the property of insuring long life, health,\nand prosperity to the wearer. The present Emperor of Germany is said,\non good authority, to affect this stone. Now the ancient magician, who\nsold charms and love-philters to love-lorn swains, did no more than\nthis, with the difference that he pretended to endow his nostrums with\ntheir supernatural powers by his own arts.\n\nIndeed, the very word \u201ccharms\u201d so innocently given to a bunch of\njingling objects dangling from the belt or watch-chain, is itself\nindicative of a superstitious origin, to say the least.\n\nAs an example of the change wrought by the tyrant fashion in the\nsupposed attributes of certain gems, the ruby was formerly considered\nthe correct thing for an engagement ring, but that stone is now almost\nwholly superseded by the diamond for that highly interesting event;\nthough the ruby continues to be regarded as a valuable gift upon\nother occasions, and if of a fine quality, is much more costly than a\ndiamond. Very possibly the familiar Biblical phrase, \u201cfor her price\nis far above rubies,\u201d spoken of the truly virtuous woman in Proverbs,\nmay have suggested the peculiar fitness of this gem in a promise of\nmarriage. If so, we can only regret the substitution.\n\nPerhaps the most plausible explanation given for the present popularity\nof the diamond--it must, however, be a _solitaire_ of the purest\nwater--is that, as the diamond is the most durable substance known, so\nit is hoped that it may symbolize an enduring affection between the\ncontracting parties. Though in itself nothing but a symbol or sign, the\ngift of an engagement ring is considered as evidence in a breach of\npromise case, thus showing that the very ancient custom in use among\nprinces or noble personages of sending their signet-rings with messages\nof high importance, to give credit to the messenger, lives on in the\nspirit, if not in the actual letter, of the law, as applied to the\nsacred pledge of fidelity to one\u2019s promise to wed.\n\nA very conscientious dealer once told me that if a young gentleman were\nto ask his advice concerning an engagement ring, he should dissuade\nthe amorous youth from buying an emerald, on the ground that the young\nlady might regard it as a bad omen, possibly on account of its color\nwhich, as we have pointed out, is or was considered unlucky; but more\nprobably, we think, because the emerald is said to be the chosen symbol\nof the \u201cgreen-eyed monster,\u201d jealousy. An old jeweller readily confirms\nthe opinion that many young ladies would be unwilling to accept an\nemerald at such a time; while still another adds that he never knew of\none being given as an engagement gift. The novelist Black makes use of\nthis superstition in his \u201cThree Feathers,\u201d as something universally\nadmitted, \u201cfor how,\u201d he na\u00efvely asks, \u201ccould any two people marry who\nhad engaged themselves with an emerald ring?\u201d\n\nDoctors disagree, however, as to the actual properties of this\nbeautiful gem, as well as in other things, for we find one authority\nsaying that the emerald \u201cdiscovers false witnesses, and ensures\nhappiness in love and domestic felicity.\u201d\n\nIn justice, therefore, to this much abused stone, we must declare that\nour research thus far fails to confirm the odium sought to be cast\nupon it, in any particular; on the contrary, so far as we can find,\nnot one jot or tittle of superstition attached to the emerald so long\nago as when New England was settled. A learned writer of that time\ndescribes it as \u201ca precious stone, the greenest of all other; for which\nit is very comfortable to the sight,\u201d and he adds, on the authority\nof Albertus Magnus, that \u201csome affirm them (emeralds) to be taken out\nof Griffon\u2019s nests, who do keep this stone with great sedulity. It\nis found by experience that if the emerald be good, it inclineth the\nwearer to chastity.\u201d\n\nIt is therefore highly improbable, to say the least, that this article\nof superstitious faith came over in the _Mayflower_.\n\nThe turquoise has long proved a puzzle to the most experienced dealers\nin gems, on account of its singular property of changing color without\napparent cause. Ordinarily it is of a beautiful blue--about the color\nof a robin\u2019s egg. This color sometimes changes to green, and again,\nthough unfrequently, to white. In relating his experience with this\nstone to me, an old friend described his surprise as well as alarm at\nhaving a very valuable specimen, which was \u201cbeautifully blue\u201d when put\nin the workman\u2019s hands to be set with diamonds, returned to him covered\nwith a white film, nearly concealing the original blue color. As the\nturquoise itself was worth several hundred dollars, it really was a\nrather serious matter. The erratic stone, however, was put away in the\nsafe. When the purchaser called for it on the following day, on its\nbeing taken out of the box, it was found that the true color had partly\nreturned, one half of the stone being blue, and the other half white.\n\u201cAnd we even fancied\u201d continued my informant, \u201cthat we could see the\ncolor change as we watched it.\u201d\n\nThis change of color in the turquoise gave rise to the belief that its\nhue varied with the health of the wearer, it being blue when the wearer\nwas in good health and green or white in the case of ill-health, or as\nput into verse:--\n\n    \u201cA compassionate turquoise that doth tell\n    By looking pale the wearer is not well.\u201d\n\nAs coral is again becoming quite fashionable, we recall that it was\nonce considered a sure protection against the Evil Eye, and is so\nstill in Italy, where the little coral charm shaped like the hand,\nwith the thumb and middle finger closed (a charm against witchcraft),\ncomes from. It is also a more or less general belief that coral or red\nbeads, worn round the neck, prevent nose-bleeding, on the principle, we\nsuppose, that like cures like.\n\nThe carnelian, shaped in the form of a heart, was formerly much worn as\nan amulet.\n\nThe amethyst, as its Greek name implies, is considered an antidote to\nintoxication. It has now a formidable rival in the gold-cure. There is\nan anecdote of the first Napoleon which affirms that he took a valuable\namethyst from the crown in the coffin of Charlemagne. The stolen stone\nlater came into the possession of Napoleon III., who wore it as a seal\non his watch-guard. In his will he bequeathed the stone to his son as\na talisman. On making her escape from Paris, in 1870, the empress took\nthe historical stone with her.\n\nThe carbuncle was formerly believed to guard the wearer against the\ndanger of breathing infectious air. It was also said to have the\nproperty of shining in the dark, like a burning coal, thus investing\nit, in the minds of the credulous, with supernatural power. This, be\nit said, was an Old-World superstition, which is referred to in some\nverses written by John Chalkhill (1649), describing a witch\u2019s cave:--\n\n    \u201cThrough which the carbuncle and diamond shine\n    Not set by art, but there by Nature sown\n    At the world\u2019s birth so star-like bright they shone.\u201d\n\nBut strangely enough, our forefathers found a similar belief existing\namong the Indians of New England, and what is more, these ignorant\nsavages were able to convince the more civilized Englishmen of the\ntruth of it.\n\nAccording to these Indians, on the loftiest mountain peak, suspended\nfrom a crag overhanging a dismal lake, there was an enormous carbuncle,\nwhich many declared they had seen blazing in the night like a live\ncoal; while by day it emitted blinding rays of light, dazzling to look\nupon. No mortal could hope to lay hands upon this gem, which was under\nthe special guardianship of the genius of the mountain.\n\nSo ran the legend. It is believed to have inspired the earliest\nrecorded journeys to the great White Mountains of New Hampshire, by\nadventurous whites. A reference to Sullivan\u2019s \u201cHistory of Maine\u201d shows\nthat the story found full credence among certain of the ignorant\nsettlers even in his day; and Hawthorne\u2019s grewsome tale of \u201cThe Great\nCarbuncle\u201d is founded upon this weird legend, so vividly recalling\nthose of the Harz and the Caucasus.\n\nIt is noticeable that, in the matter of superstitions concerning gems,\nit is not the common people, but the wealthy who alone are able to\ngratify their desires. Everybody has heard of the Rothschild pearls.\nThe Princess Louise of Lorne wears a ring of jet, as a preserver of\nhealth. M. Zola carries a bit of coral as a talisman against all sorts\nof perils by land or water; all of which goes to show that neither\nwealth nor station is exempt from those secret influences which so\nreadily affect the poor and lowly.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nVIII\n\nOF LOVE AND MARRIAGE\n\n    \u201cNow for good lucke, cast an old shoe after me.\u201d--_Heywood._\n\n\nThe folk-lore of marriage is probably the most interesting feature of\nthe general subject, to the tender sex, at least, with whom indeed none\nother, in the nature of things, could begin to hold so important a\nplace. In consequence, all favorable or unfavorable omens are carefully\ntreasured up in the memory, quite as much pains being taken to guard\nagainst evil prognostics as to propitiate good fortune.\n\nQuite naturally, the young unmarried woman is possessed of a burning\ndesire to find out who her future husband is to be, what he is like,\nwhether he is rich or poor, short or tall, and if they twain are to\nbe happy in the married state or not. To this end the oracle is duly\nconsulted, either openly or secretly, after the best approved methods.\n\nOne of the best known modes of divination is this: If, fortunately, you\nfind the pretty little lady-bird bug on your clothes, throw it up in\nthe air, repeating at the same time the invocation:--\n\n    \u201cFly away east and fly away west,\n    Show me where lives the one I love best.\u201d\n\nAll charms of this nature are supposed to possess peculiar power if\ntried on St. Valentine\u2019s day, Christmas Eve, or Hallowe\u2019en. Curious\nit is that on a day dedicated to All the Saints in the Calendar, evil\nspirits, fairies, and the like are supposed to be holding a sort of\nmagic revel unchecked, or that they should be thought to be better\ndisposed to gratify the desires of inquisitive mortals on this day than\non another. At any rate, calendar or no calendar, St. Matrimony is the\npatron saint of Hallowe\u2019en.\n\nAmong the many methods of divination employed, a favorite one was\nto drop melted lead into a bowl of water, though any other sort of\nvessel would do as well, and whatever form the lead might take would\nsignify the occupation of your future husband. Or to go out of doors\nin the dark, with a ball of yarn, and unwind it until some one should\nbegin winding it at the unwound end. At this trial, the expected often\nhappened, as the enamored swain would seldom fail to be on the watch\nfor his sweetheart to appear. So also the white of an egg dropped in\nwater, and set in the sun, was supposed to take on the form of some\nobject, such as a ship under full sail, indicating that your husband\nwould be a sailor.\n\nBurning the nuts is perhaps the most popular mode of trying conclusions\nwith fate, as it certainly is the most mirth-provoking. On this\ninteresting occasion, lads and lassies arrange themselves in a circle\nbefore a blazing wood fire, on the hearth. Nuts are produced. Each\nperson, after naming his or her nut, puts it upon the glowing coals,\nwith the unspoken invocation:--\n\n    \u201cIf he loves me, pop and fly,\n    If he hates me, live and die.\u201d\n\nThe poet Gay turns this somewhat differently, but it is not our affair\nto reconcile conflicting presages. He sings:--\n\n    \u201cTwo hazel nuts I threw into the flame,\n    And to each nut I gave a sweetheart\u2019s name,\n    This with the loudest bounce me sore amazed,\n    That in a flame of brightest color blazed:\n    As blazed the nut so may the passions grow,\n    For \u2018twas thy nut that did so brightly glow.\u201d\n\nA still different rendering is given by Burns. According to him each\nquestioner of the charm names two nuts, one for himself, one for his\nsweetheart, presumably the mode practised in Scotland in his time:--\n\n    \u201cJean slips in twa wi\u2019 tentie e\u2019e;\n      Wha \u2019twas, she wadna tell;\n    But this is Jock, an\u2019 this is me,\n      She says in to hersel\u2019:\n    He blaz\u2019d o\u2019er her, an\u2019 she owre him,\n      As they wad never mair part;\n    \u2019Till, fuff! he started up the lum,\n    An\u2019 Jean had e\u2019en a sair heart\n                To see\u2019t that night.\u201d\n\nPopping corn sometimes takes the place of burning the nuts. The spoken\ninvocation is then \u201cPit, put, turn inside out!\u201d\n\nThere are also several methods of performing this act of divination\nwith apples. The one most practised in New England is this: First pare\nan apple. If you succeed in removing the peel all in one piece, throw\nit over your head, and should the charm work well, the peel will so\nfall as to form the first letter of your future husband\u2019s name, or as\nGay poetically puts it:--\n\n    \u201cI pare this pippin round and round again,\n    My shepherd\u2019s name to nourish on the plain:\n    I fling th\u2019 unbroken paring o\u2019er my head,\n    Upon the grass a perfect L is read.\u201d\n\nWhen sleeping in a strange bed for the first time, name the four posts\nfor some of your male friends. The post that you first look at, upon\nwaking in the morning, bears the name of the one whom you will marry.\nCare is usually taken to fall asleep on the right side of the bed.\n\nBy walking down the cellar stairs backward, holding a mirror over\nyour head as you go, the face of the person whom you will marry will\npresently appear in the mirror.\n\nThe oracle of the daisy flower, so effectively made use of in Goethe\u2019s\n\u201cFaust,\u201d is of great antiquity, and is perhaps more often consulted by\nblushing maidens than any other. When plucking away the snowy petals,\nthe fair questioner of fate should murmur low to herself the cabalistic\nformula:--\n\n    \u201c\u2018He loves me, loves me not,\u2019 she said,\n    Bending low her dainty head\n      O\u2019er the daisy\u2019s mystic spell.\n    \u2018He loves me, loves me not, he loves,\u2019\n    She murmurs \u2019mid the golden groves\n      Of the corn-fields on the fell.\u201d\n\nAs the last leaf falls, so goes the prophecy.\n\nIf you put a four-leaved clover in your shoe before going out for a\nwalk, you will presently meet the one you are to marry. The same charm\nis used to bring back an absent or wayward lover. Consequently there is\nmuch looking for this bashful little plant at all of our matrimonial\nresorts. The rhymed version runs in this wise:--\n\n    \u201cA clover, a clover of two,\n    Put it in your right shoe;\n    The first young man you meet,\n    In field, street, or lane,\n    You\u2019ll get him, or one of his name.\u201d\n\nIn some localities a bean-pod or a pea-pod put over the door acts as a\ncharm to bring the favored of fortune to lift the latch and walk in.\nThis is old. The poet Gay has it in rhyme thus:--\n\n    \u201cAs peascods once I pluck\u2019d, I chanc\u2019d to see\n    One that was closely filled with three times three;\n    Which when I cropp\u2019d, I safely home convey\u2019d,\n    And o\u2019er the door the spell in secret laid:--\n    The latch moved up, when who should first come in,\n    But in his proper person--Lubberkin!\u201d\n\nAnother mode of divination runs in this way: On going to bed the girl\neats two spoonfuls of salt. The salt causes her to dream that she is\ndying of thirst; and whoever the young man may be that brings her a cup\nof water, in her dream, is the one she will marry.[16]\n\nIf after seeing a white horse you count a hundred, the first gentleman\nyou meet will be your future husband.\n\nSo far as appearances go, at least, the custom of brewing love-philters\nor love-potions, to forestall or force the natural inclinations, has\ncompletely died out. From this source the astrologers, magicians, and\nfortune-tellers of former times reaped a rich harvest. Many instances\nof the use of this old custom occur in literature. Josselyn na\u00efvely\nrelates the only one we can call to mind, coming near home to us. He\nsays: \u201cI once took notice of a wanton woman\u2019s compounding the solid\nroots of this plant (Satyrion) with wine, for an amorous cup, which\nwrought the desired effect.\u201d\n\nWould that the hideous and barbarous custom of administering poisons\nto gratify the cravings of hatred or the pangs of jealousy had become\nequally obsolete! But alas! the \u201cgreen-eyed monster\u201d is \u201cwith us yet.\u201d\n\nIt is a fact, well known to students of folk-lore, that those customs\nor usages relating to marriage are not only among the oldest, but\nhave become too firmly intrenched in the popular mind to be easily\ndislodged. Thus, the ceremony of Throwing the Shoe continues to hold\nan honored place among marriage customs. In another place, it has been\nreferred to as sometimes employed in the common concerns of life. But\nin the case of marriage, a somewhat deeper significance is attached to\nit. It is but fair to say, however, that authorities differ widely as\nto its origin, some referring it to the testimony of the Scriptures\n(Deut. xxv.), where the loosing of a shoe from a man\u2019s foot by the\nwoman he has refused to marry, is made an act of solemn renunciation\nin the presence of the elders. Thereafter, the obdurate one was to be\nheld up to the public scorn, and his house pointed at as \u201cthe house of\nhim that hath his shoe loosed.\u201d So again we read in Ruth of a man who\nplucked off his shoe, and gave it to his kinsman, as an evidence to\nthe act of renunciation, touching the redeeming of land, and this, we\nare there told, was then the manner in Israel. Hence, it has been very\nplausibly suggested, especially by Mr. Thrupp, in \u201cNotes and Queries,\u201d\nthat throwing an old shoe after a bride was at first a symbol of\nrenunciation of authority over her, by her father or guardian. However\nthat may be, it is certain that no marriage ceremony is considered\ncomplete to-day without it, although there is danger of its being\nbrought into ridicule, and so into disrepute, by such nonsensical acts\nas tying on old shoes to the bride\u2019s trunks, or to some part of her\ncarriage, as I have seen done here in New England, the original design\nof the custom being lost sight of in the too evident purpose to make\nthe wedded pair as conspicuous as possible, and their start on life\u2019s\njourney an occasion for the outbreak of ill-timed buffoonery.\n\nIn \u201cPrimitive Marriage\u201d Mr. McLennan thinks that throwing the shoe may\nbe a relic of the ancient custom, still kept up among certain Hindu\ntribes, where the bride, either in fact or in appearance only, is\nforcibly carried off by the groom and his friends, who are, in turn,\nthemselves hotly pursued and in good earnest pelted with all manner of\nmissiles, stones included, by the bride\u2019s kinsfolk and tribesmen. This\nsham assault usually ends in the pursuers giving up the chase,--as,\nindeed, was intended beforehand,--and is probably a survival of the\nearliest of marriage customs, namely, that of stealing the bride,\nas recorded in ancient history. But this explanation is chiefly\ninteresting as fixing the _status_ of woman in those primitive days,\nwhen she was more like the slave of man than his equal. That relation\nis now so far reversed, however, that it is now the man who has become\nthe humble suitor and declared servitor of womankind. So, at least, he\ninsists. Now and then, though quite rarely, the old barbaric custom is\nrecalled by the forcible abduction of some unwilling victim by her\nrejected lover; but only in a few instances, so far as we know, has\na bride been kidnapped and held to ransom, in this country, before\nbeing restored to her friends. The American Indians are known to have\npractised this custom of stealing the bride, quite after the manner\ndescribed by Mr. McLennan as in vogue among the Hindus.\n\nEven royalty itself must bow to the behests of old custom, as well as\ncommon mortals. When the Duke and Duchess of Albany left Windsor, while\nthey were still within the private grounds, the bridegroom\u2019s three\nbrothers and Princess Louise and Princess Beatrice ran across a part of\nthe lawn enclosed within a bend of the drive, each armed with a number\nof old shoes, with which they pelted the \u201chappy pair.\u201d The Duke of\nAlbany returned the fire from the carriage with the ammunition supplied\nhim by his friendly assailants, causing the heartiest laughter by a\nwell-directed shot at the Duke of Edinburgh.\n\nIt was always reckoned a good omen if the sun shone on a couple when\ncoming out of church. Hence the saying: \u201cHappy is the bride that the\nsun shines on.\u201d\n\nEvery one knows, if not from experience, at least by observation, what\nself-consciousness dwells in a newly married pair--what pains they\ntake to appear like old married folk, and what awkward attempts they\nmake to assume the _d\u00e9gag\u00e9_ air of ordinary travellers. As touching\nthis feature of the subject, I one day saw a carriage driven past me,\nat which every one stopped to look, and stare in a way to attract\ngeneral attention, and after looking, gave a broad grin. The reason\nwas apparent. On the back of the carriage was hung a large placard,\nlabelled \u201cJust Married.\u201d Several old shoes, besides some long streamers\nof cheap cotton cloth, were dangling from the trunks behind. When the\ncarriage, thus decorated, drew up at the station, followed by a hooting\ncrowd of street urchins, it was greeted with roars of laughter by the\nthrong of idlers in waiting, while the unconscious cause of it all\nfirst learned on alighting what a sensation they had so unwittingly\ncreated.\n\nThe custom of throwing rice over a bride, as an emblem of fruitfulness,\nalso is very old, though in England it was originally wheat that was\ncast upon her head. The poet Herrick says to the bride,\n\n                                    \u201cWhile some repeat\n    Your praise and bless you sprinkling you with wheat.\u201d\n\nAll the sentiment of this pretty and very significant custom is in\ndanger of being killed by excess on the part of the performers, who so\noften overdo the matter as to render themselves supremely ridiculous,\nand the bride very uncomfortable, to say the least. To scatter rice, as\nif one were sowing it by the acre, when a handful would amply fulfil\nall the requirements of the custom, is something as if an officiating\nclergyman should pour a pailful of water on an infant\u2019s head, instead\nof sprinkling it, at a baptism.\n\nIt is not surprising that now and then cases arise where a newly\nmarried couple try to escape from the shower prepared for them by\ngiving these over-zealous assistants the slip. A chase then begins\ncorresponding somewhat to that just related of ignorant barbarians; and\nwoe to the runaways if the pursuers should catch up with them!\n\nThe custom of furnishing bride-cake at a wedding is said to be a token\nof the firm union between man and wife, just as from immemorial time\nbreaking bread has been held to have a symbolic meaning. The custom is\ncenturies old. At first it was only a cake of wheat or barley. What it\nis composed of now, no man can undertake to say. That it is conducive\nto dreaming, or more probably to nightmare, few, we think, will care to\ndispute.\n\nWe learn that it was a former custom to cut the bride-cake into little\nsquares or dice, small enough to be passed through the wedding-ring.\nA slice drawn through the ring thrice (some have it nine times), and\nafterward put under the pillow, will make an unmarried man or woman\ndream of his or her future wife or husband. This is another of those\nold customs of which trial is so often made \u201cjust for the fun of the\nthing, you know!\u201d\n\nThe _Charivari_, or mock serenade, is another custom still much\naffected in many places, notably so in our rural districts, though to\nour own mind \u201cmore honored in the breach than in the observance.\u201d The\naverred object is to make \u201cnight hideous,\u201d and is usually completely\nsuccessful. In the wee sma\u2019 hours, while sleeping peacefully in their\nbeds, the newly wedded pair are suddenly awakened by a most infernal\ndin under their windows, caused by the blowing of tin horns, the\nthumping of tin pans, ringing of cowbells, and like instruments of\ntorture. To get rid of his tormentors the bridegroom is expected to\nhold an impromptu reception, or, in other words, \u201cto treat the crowd,\u201d\nwhich is more often the real object of this silly affair, to which we\nfail to discover one redeeming feature.\n\nThe custom of wearing the wedding ring upon the left hand originated,\nso we are told, in the common belief that the left hand lay nearest to\nthe heart.\n\nAs is well known, the Puritans tried to abolish the use of the ring in\nmarriage. According to Butler in \u201cHudibras\u201d:--\n\n    \u201cOthers were for abolishing\n    That tool of matrimony--a ring\n    With which the unsatisfied bridegroom\n    Is married only to a thumb.\u201d\n\nThe times have indeed changed since in the early days of New England\nno Puritan maiden would have been married with a ring for worlds.\nWhen Edward Winslow was cited before the Lord\u2019s Commissioners of\nPlantations, upon the complaint of Thomas Morton, he was asked among\nother things about the marriage customs practised in the colony. He\nanswered frankly that the ceremony was performed by magistrates.\nMorton, his accuser, declares that the people of New England held the\nuse of a ring in marriage to be \u201ca relic of popery, a diabolical circle\nfor the Devell to daunce in.\u201d\n\nThe first marriage in Plymouth Colony, that of the same Edward Winslow\nto Susannah White, was performed by a magistrate, as being a civil\nrather than a religious contract. From this time to 1680, marriages\nwere solemnized by a magistrate, or by persons specially appointed for\nthat purpose, who were restricted to particular towns or districts.\nGovernor Hutchinson, in his history of Massachusetts, says he believes\n\u201cthere was no instance of marriage by a clergyman during their first\ncharter.\u201d If a minister happened to be present, he was desired to\npray. It is difficult to assign the reason why clergymen were excluded\nfrom performing this ceremony. In new settlements, it must have been\nsolemnized by persons not always the most proper for that purpose,\nconsidering of what importance it is to society, that a sense of this\nordinance, at least in some degree sacred, should be maintained and\npreserved.\n\nThe first marriage solemnized at Guilford, Connecticut, took place\nin the minister\u2019s house. It is not learned whether he performed the\nceremony or not. The marriage feast consisted wholly of pork and beans.\nAs time wore on, marriages became occasions of much more ceremony than\nthey were fifty or sixty years ago. During the Revolutionary period,\nand even later, the bride was visited daily for four successive weeks.\n\nA gold wedding-ring is accounted a sure cure for sties.\n\nIf the youngest daughter of the family should be married before\nher older sisters, they must all dance at her wedding in their\nstockings-feet, if they wish to have husbands.\n\nIt is strongly enjoined upon a bride, when being dressed for the\nmarriage ceremony, to wear,--\n\n    \u201cSomething old and something new,\n    Something borrowed and something blue,\n    And a four-leaved clover in her shoe.\u201d\n\nJune is now at the height of popularity as the month of all months to\nget married in, for no other reason that I can discover, than that it\nis the month of roses, when beauty and plenty pervade the fair face of\nnature.\n\nIt is now the custom for the bride, if she is married at home, or on\nreturning there from church, to throw away her bouquet for the guests\nto scramble for. The one getting the most flowers will be married\nfirst, and so on.\n\nGiving wedding presents was not practised before the present\n(nineteenth) century.\n\nOne old marriage custom, though long since obsolete, may be\nbriefly alluded to here, not only for its singularity, but for its\nsuggestiveness touching a state of mind that would admit of such\ntomfoolery. This was the so-called Smock-marriage, in which the bride\nwent through the ceremony standing only in her shift, thereby declaring\nherself to be possessed of no more than she came into the world with.\nOn being duly recorded, the act exempted the husband from liability\nfor his wife\u2019s debts previously contracted. If she went through this\nridiculous performance in the presence of witnesses, and in the \u201cKing\u2019s\nHighway,\u201d that is to say, the lawfully laid out public road, she\nthereby cleared herself from any old indebtedness. As amazing as it may\nseem, several such cases are recorded in New England, the formalities\nobserved differing somewhat in different localities.\n\nIt is considered unlucky to get married before breakfast.\n\n    \u201cIf you marry in Lent,\n    You will live to repent.\u201d\n\nMay is considered an unlucky month to be married in.\n\n    \u201cMarry in May,\n    And you\u2019ll rue the day.\u201d\n\nTo remove an engagement or wedding ring from the finger is also a bad\nomen.[17] To lose either of them, or to have them broken on the finger,\nalso denotes misfortune.\n\nIt is extremely unlucky for either the bride or groom to meet a\nfuneral when on their way to be married.\n\nIt is an unlucky omen for the church clock to strike during the\nperformance of a marriage ceremony, as it is said to portend the death\nof one of the contracting parties before the year is out.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nIX\n\nOF EVIL OMENS\n\n    \u201cA woman\u2019s story at a winter\u2019s fire.\u201d--_Macbeth._\n\n\nWe come now to those things considered as distinctly unlucky, and to be\navoided accordingly. How common is the peevish exclamation of \u201cThat\u2019s\njust my luck!\u201d Spilling the salt, picking up a pin with the point\ntoward you, crossing a knife and fork, or giving any one a knife or\nother sharp instrument, are all deemed of sinister import now, as of\nold.\n\nOne must not kill a toad, which, though\n\n                  \u201cugly and venomous,\n    Wears yet a precious jewel in its head,\u201d\n\nor a grasshopper, possibly by reason of the veneration in which this\nvoracious little insect was held by the Athenians, whose favorite\nsymbol it was, although it is now outlawed, and a price set upon its\nhead as a pest, to be ruthlessly exterminated, by some of the Western\nstates. So, too, with the warning not to kill a spider, against which,\nnevertheless, the housemaid\u2019s broom wages relentless war. If, on the\ncontrary, you do not kill the first snake seen in the spring, bad\nluck will follow you all the year round. Be it ever so badly bruised,\nhowever, the belief holds fast in the country that the reptile will not\ndie until sunset, or with the expiring day,\n\n    \u201cThat like a wounded snake drags its slow length along.\u201d\n\nThe peacock\u2019s feathers were supposed to be unlucky, from an old\ntradition associating its gaudy colors with certain capital sins,\nwhich these colors were held to symbolize. Nevertheless, this tall\nand haughty feather has been much the fashion of late years as an\neffective mantel ornament, showing how reckless some people can be\nregarding the prophecy of evil.\n\nGetting married before breakfast is considered unlucky. It would be\nquite as logical to say this of any other time of the day; hence\nunlucky to get married at all, though it is not believed all married\npeople will cordially subscribe to this heresy.\n\nMay is an unlucky month to be married in. So, also\n\n    \u201cIf you marry in Lent\n    You will live to repent.\u201d\n\nOld Burton says, \u201cMarriage and hanging go by destiny; matches are made\nin heaven.\u201d\n\nGetting out of bed on the wrong side bodes ill luck for the rest of the\nday. A common remark to a person showing ill-humor is, \u201cI guess you got\nout of the wrong side of the bed this morning.\u201d It has in fact become a\nproverb.\n\nTo begin dressing yourself by putting the stocking on the left foot\nfirst would be trifling with fortune. I know a man who would not do\nso on any account. It is also unlucky to put a right foot into a\nleft-hand shoe, or _vice versa_. These are necessary corollaries of the\n\u201cright-foot-foremost\u201d superstition.\n\nAccording to that merry gentleman, Samuel Butler:--\n\n    \u201cAugustus having b\u2019oversight\n    Put on his left shoe for his right,\n    Had like to have been slain that day,\n    By soldiers mutining for their pay.\u201d\n\nCutting the finger nails on the Sabbath is a bad omen. There is a set\nof rhymed rules for the doing of even this trifling act. Apparently,\nthe Chinese know the omen, as they do not cut the nails at all.\n\nOf the harmless dragon-fly or devil\u2019s darning-needle, country girls say\nthat if one flies in your face it will sew up your eyes.\n\nIn some localities I have heard it said that if two persons walking\ntogether should be parted by a post, a tree, or a person, in their\npath, something unlucky will surely result--\n\n    \u201cUnless they straightway mutter,\n    \u2018Bread and butter, bread and butter.\u2019\u201d\n\nLow, the pirate, would not let his crew work on the Sabbath, not so\nmuch, we suppose, from conscientious scruples, as for fear it would\nbring him bad luck. The rest of the Decalogue did not seem to bother\nhim in the least.\n\nAfter having once started on an errand or a journey, it is unlucky\nto go back, even if you have forgotten something of importance.\nAll persons afflicted with frequent lapses of memory should govern\nthemselves accordingly. This belief seems clearly grounded upon the\ndreadful fate of Lot\u2019s wife.\n\nIt was always held unlucky to break a piece of crockery, as a second\nand a third piece shortly will be broken also. This is closely\nassociated with the belief respecting the number three, elsewhere\nreferred to. In New England it is commonly said that if you should\nbreak something on Monday, bad luck will follow you all the rest of the\nweek.\n\nTo stumble in going upstairs is also unlucky; perhaps to stumble at any\nother time. Friar Lawrence says, in \u201cRomeo and Juliet,\u201d--\n\n    \u201cThey stumble that run fast.\u201d\n\nTwo persons washing their hands in the same basin or in the same water\nwill quarrel unless the sign of the cross be made in the water.\n\nIt is considered unlucky to take off a ring that was the gift of a\ndeceased person, an engagement, or a marriage ring.\n\nThe term \u201choodoo,\u201d almost unknown in the Northern United States a few\nyears ago, has gradually worked its way into the vernacular, until\nit is in almost everybody\u2019s mouth. It is, perhaps, most lavishly\nemployed during the base-ball season, as everyone knows who reads\nthe newspapers, to describe something that has cast a spell upon the\nplayers, so bringing about defeat. The term is then \u201choodooing.\u201d The\nhoodoo may be anything particularly ugly or repulsive seen on the way\nto the game--a deformed old woman, a one-legged man, a lame horse,\nor a blind beggar, for instance. Most players are said to give full\ncredit to the power of the hoodoo to bewitch them. Indeed, the term has\nbeen quite widely taken up as the synonym for bad luck, or, rather,\nthe cause of it, even by the business world. If this is not, to all\nintents, a belief in witchcraft, it certainly comes very close to what\npassed for witchcraft two hundred years ago.\n\nThis vagrant and ill-favored word \u201choodoo\u201d is, again, a corruption of\nthe voudoo of the ignorant blacks of the South, with whom, in fact, it\nstands, as some say, for witchcraft, pure and simple, or, perhaps, the\nBlack Art, as practised in Africa; while others pronounce it to be a\nreligious rite only. More than this, the voudoo also is a mystic order,\ninto whose unholy mysteries the neophyte is inducted with much barbaric\nceremony. In the case of a white woman so initiated in Louisiana,\nthis consisted in the elect chanting a weird incantation, while the\nnovitiate, clad only in her shift, danced within a charmed circle\nformed of beef bones and skeletons, toads\u2019 feet and spiders, with\ncamphor and kerosene oil sprinkled about it. All those present join in\nthe dance to the accompaniment of tom-toms and other rude instruments,\nuntil physical exhaustion compels the dancers to stop.\n\nIn its main features we find a certain resemblance between the voudoo\ndance of the ignorant blacks and the ghost dance practised by some of\nthe wild Indians of the West, and by means of which they are wrought up\nto the highest pitch of frenzy, so preparing the way for an outbreak,\nsuch as occurred a few years ago with most lamentable results.\n\nWhile the sporting fraternity is notoriously addicted to the hoodoo\nsuperstition, yet it is by no means confined to them alone. Not long\nago a statement went the rounds of the newspapers to the effect that\nthe superstitious wife of a certain well-known millionnaire had refused\nto go on board of their palatial yacht because one of the crew had\nbeen fatally injured by falling down a hatchway. In plain English, the\naccident had hoodooed the ship.\n\nBut the power of the hoodoo would seem not to be limited to human\nbeings, according to this statement, taken from the columns of a\nreputable newspaper: \u201cA meadow at Biddeford, Maine, is known as the\nhoodoo lawn, for the reason that rain follows every time it is mowed,\nbefore the grass can be cured. It is said that this has occurred for\ntwenty-five consecutive years.\u201d\n\nTo break the spell of the hoodoo, it is as essential to have a mascot,\nover which the malign influence can have no power, as to have an\nantidote against poisons. Therefore most ball-players carry a mascot\nwith them. Sometimes it is a goat, or a dog, or again a black sheep,\nthat is gravely led thrice around the field before the play begins.\n\nIt is not learned whether or not the different kinds of mascot have\never been pitted against each other. Perhaps the effect would be\nnot unlike that described by Cicero in his treatise on divination.\nHe says there that Cato one day met a friend who seemed in a very\ntroubled frame of mind. On being asked what was the matter, the friend\nreplied: \u201cOh! my friend, I fear everything. This morning when I\nawoke, I saw, shall I say it? a mouse gnawing my shoe.\u201d \u201cWell,\u201d said\nCato, reassuringly, \u201ccalm yourself. The prodigy really would become\nfrightful if the shoe had been gnawing the mouse.\u201d\n\nNaval ships often carry a goat, or some other animal, as a mascot, in\ndeference to Jack\u2019s well-known belief in its peculiar efficacy; and in\nnaval parades the goat usually gravely marches in the procession, and\ncomes in for his share of the applause. Simple-minded Jack christens\nhis favorite gun after some favorite prize-fighter. And why not? since\nthe great Nelson, himself, carried a horseshoe nailed to his mast-head,\nand since even some of our college foot-ball teams bring their mascots\nupon the field just like other folk.\n\nThe war with Spain could hardly fail of bringing to light some\nnotable examples of the superstitions of sailors concerning mascots.\nThe destruction of Admiral Cervera\u2019s fleet, off Santiago de Cuba,\nby the American fleet, under command of Admiral Sampson, is freshly\nremembered. One of the destroyed Spanish ships was named the _Colon_.\nTwenty-six days after the battle, the tug-boat _Right Arm_ of the\nMerritt-Chapman Wrecking Company visited the _Colon_, for the purpose\nof raising the Spanish cruiser. The only living thing aboard was a\nblack and white cat. For nearly a month it had been the sole crew and\ncommander of the wrecked battle-ship.\n\nThe crew of the _Right Arm_ took possession of the cat, adopted it as a\nmascot and named it Tomas Cervera. But Cervera brought ill luck. When\nLieutenant Hobson raised the _Maria Teresa_ the rescued cat was placed\naboard her, to be brought to America.\n\nThe _Maria Teresa_ never reached these shores, and when the vessel\ngrounded off the Bahamas the cat fell into the hands of the natives. He\nwas rescued the second time, and at last reached America, a passenger\non the United States repair ship _Vulcan_.\n\nIt will be admitted that this cat did not belie that article of the\npopular belief, which ascribes nine lives to his tribe. But poor Tomas\nCervera did not long survive the various hardships and perils to which\nhe had been subjected. He gave up the ghost shortly after all these\nwere happily ended.\n\nSpeaking of ships and sailors, it is well known to all seafaring folk\nthat the reputation of a ship for being lucky, or unlucky, is all\nimportant. And this reputation may begin at the very moment when she\nleaves the stocks. Should she, unfortunately, stick on the ways, in\nlaunching, a bad name is pretty sure to follow her during the remainder\nof her career, and to be an important factor in her ability to ship a\ncrew. Even the practice of christening a ship with a bottle of wine is\nneither more nor less than a survival of pagan superstition by which\nthe favor of the gods was invoked.\n\nThe superstition regarding thirteen persons at the table also boasts a\nremarkable vitality. Just when or how it originated is uncertain. It\nhas been surmised, however, that the Paschal Supper was the beginning\nof this notion, for there were thirteen persons present then, and\nwhat followed is not likely to be forgotten. It has, perhaps, been\nthe subject of greater ridicule than any other popular delusion,\nprobably from the fact of its touching convivial man in his most tender\npart,--to wit, the stomach. In London some of the literary and other\nlights even went to the trouble of forming a Thirteen Club for the\navowed purpose of breaking down the senseless notion that if thirteen\npersons were to sit down to dinner together, one of them would die\nwithin a twelvemonth. The motto of this club should have been, \u201cAll men\nmust die, therefore all men should dine.\u201d If the club\u2019s proceedings\nshowed no lack of invention and mother wit, we still should very much\ndoubt their efficacy toward achieving the avowed end and aim of the\nclub\u2019s existence, for surely such extravagances could have no other\neffect than to raise a laugh. We reproduce an account of the affair for\nthe reader\u2019s amusement:--\n\n\u201cAt the dinner of the club, above mentioned, there were thirteen\ntables, a similar number of guests being seated at each table. The\nserving of the meal was announced by the \u201cshivering\u201d of a mirror\nplaced on an easel, a ceremony performed by two cross-eyed waiters!\nHaving put on green neckties and placed a miniature skeleton in their\nbutton-holes, the guests passed under a ladder into the dining room.\nThe tables were lighted with small lamps placed on plaster skulls;\nskeletons were suspended from the candles, which were thirteen in\nnumber on each table; the knives were crossed; the salt-stands were\nin the shape of coffins, with headstones bearing the inscription, \u2018In\nmemory of many senseless superstitions, killed by the London Thirteen\nClub, 1894.\u2019 The salt-spoons were shaped like a grave-digger\u2019s spade.\n\n\u201cAfter the dinner was fairly started, the chairman asked the company\nto spill salt with him, and later on he invited them to break\nlooking-glasses with him, all of which having been done, he presented\nthe chairmen of the different tables with a knife each, on condition\nthat nothing was given for them in return. An undertaker, clothed in a\nvariety costume, which would have done credit to a first-class music\nhall, was then introduced \u2018to take orders,\u2019 but he was quickly shuffled\nout of the room.\u201d\n\nThese unbelieving jesters, who so audaciously defied the fatal omen,\ndid not seem to realize that a popular superstition is not to be\nlaughed out of existence in so summary a manner. Equally futile was the\nattempt to put it to a scientific test, as, if tried by that means, it\nappears that, of any group of thirteen persons, the chances are about\nequal that one will die within the year. Therefore, the attempt to\nbreak the spell by inviting a greater number of persons could have the\neffect only of increasing, rather than diminishing, the probability of\nthe event so much dreaded.[18]\n\nIt has been stated in the newspapers, from which I take it, that there\nare many hotels in New York which contain no room numbered thirteen.\nThere are other hotels and office buildings wherein the rooms that are\nso numbered cannot be leased except once in a great while. In large\nhotels one custom is to letter the first thirteen rooms and call them\nparlors. Another custom is simply to skip the unpopular number, and\ncall the thirteenth room \u201cNo. 14.\u201d A man who had just rented an office\nwhich bears the objectionable number, in a down-town building, asserts\nthat though he has no superstitious dread of the number, he finds that\nothers will not transact business with him in that office. I also find\nit stated as a fact that the new monster passenger steamship _Oceanic_\nhas no cabin or seat at the table numbered thirteen.\n\nIt was again instanced as a deathblow to a certain candidate\u2019s hopes\nof a re\u00eblection to the United States Senate, that repeated ballotings\nshowed him to be just thirteen votes short of the required number.\nFrom the same state, Pennsylvania, comes this highly significant\nannouncement in regard to a base-ball team: \u201cBecause the team left here\non a very rainy day, and on a train that pulled out from track No.\n13, the superstitious local fans (_sic_) are in a sad state of mind\nto-night, regarding the coincidence as an evil omen.\u201d Again the small\nnumber of six, in the graduating class of a certain high school, was\ngravely referred to as owing to there having originally been thirteen\nin that class.\n\nAt the same time there are exceptions which, however, the superstitious\nmay claim only go to prove the rule. For instance the Thirteen Colonies\ndid not prove so very unlucky a venture.\n\nAs regards the superstitions of actors and actresses, the following\nanecdote, though not new, probably as truly reflects the state of\nmind existing among the profession to-day as it did when the incident\nhappened to which it refers. When the celebrated Madame Rachel\nreturned from Egypt in 1857, she asked Ars\u00e8ne Houssaye, within a year\nthereafter, the question: \u201cDo you recollect the dinner we had at the\nhouse of Victor Hugo? There were thirteen of us,--Hugo and his wife,\nyou and your wife, Rebecca and I, Girardin and his wife, Gerard de\nNerval, Pradier, Alfred de Musset, Perr\u00e8e, of the _Si\u00e8cle_, and the\nCount d\u2019Orsay, thirteen in all. Well, where are they to-day? Victor\nHugo and his wife are in Jersey, your wife is dead, Madame de Girardin\nis dead, my sister Rebecca is dead, De Nerval, Pradier, Alfred de\nMusset, and d\u2019Orsay are dead. I say no more. There remain but Girardin\nand you. Adieu, my friends. Never laugh at thirteen at a table.\u201d\n\nThe world, however, especially that part of it represented by diners\nout, goes on believing in the evil augury just the same. A dinner party\nis recalled at which two of the invited guests were given seats at a\nside table on account of that terrible bugbear \u201cthirteen at table.\u201d\nWhen mentioning the circumstance to a friend, he was reminded of an\noccasion where an additional guest had been summoned in haste to break\nthe direful spell.\n\nUnquestionably, the newspapers might do much toward suppressing the\nspread of superstition by refusing to print such accounts as this,\ntaken from a Boston daily paper, as probably nothing is read by a\ncertain class with greater avidity. It says \u201cthat engine No. 13 of\nthe Boston, Hoosac Tunnel & Western Railroad has, within three weeks,\nkilled no less than three men. The railway hands fear the locomotive,\nand say that its number is unlucky.\u201d It is true, we understand, that\nthe standard number of a wrecked locomotive, that has been in a fatal\naccident, is not unfrequently changed in deference to this feeling on\nthe part of the engine-men.\n\nIt is held to be unlucky to pass underneath a ladder, an act which\nindeed might be dangerous to life or limb should the ladder fall. But\nit is even harder to understand the philosophy of the _dictum_ that to\nmeet a squinting woman denotes ill luck.\n\nThe bird was formerly accounted an unlucky symbol, perhaps from\nthe fact that good fortune, like riches, is apt to take to itself\nwings. The hooting of an owl, the croaking of a raven, the cry of a\nwhip-poor-will, and even the sight of a solitary magpie were always\nassociated with malignant influences or evil presages. Poe\u2019s raven\nfurnishes the theme for one of his best-known poems. And the swan was\nlong believed to sing her own death-song. Be that as it may, the fact\nis well remembered that a ring, bearing the device of a bird upon it,\nor any other object having the image of the feathered kind, was not\nconsidered a suitable gift to a woman. That article of superstition,\nlike some others that could be mentioned, has vanished before the\nresistless command of fashion, so completely indeed, that birds of\nevery known clime and plumage have since been considered the really\nproper adornment for woman\u2019s headgear.\n\nThere is, however, an odd superstition connected with the magpie, an\ninstance of which is found related by Lord Roberts, in \u201cForty-one Years\nin India.\u201d We could not do better than give it in his own words: \u201cOn\nthe 15th July Major Cavagnari, who had been selected as the envoy and\nplenipotentiary to the Amir of Kabul, arrived in Kuram. I, with some\nfifty officers who were anxious to do honor to the envoy and see the\ncountry beyond Kuram, marched with Cavagnari to within five miles of\nthe crest of Shutargardan pass, where we encamped, and my staff and\nI dined that evening with the mission. After dinner I was asked to\npropose the health of Cavagnari and those with him, but somehow I did\nnot feel equal to the task: I was so thoroughly depressed, and my\nmind filled with such gloomy forebodings as to the fate of these fine\nfellows, that I could not utter a word.\n\n\u201cEarly next morning the Sirdar, who had been deputed by the Amir to\nreceive the mission, came into camp, and soon we all started for the\ntop of the pass.... As we ascended, curiously enough, we came across\na solitary magpie, which I should not have noticed had not Cavagnari\npointed it out and begged me not to mention the fact of his having seen\nit to his wife, as she would be sure to consider it an unlucky omen.\n\n\u201cOn descending to the (Afghan) camp, we were invited to partake of\ndinner, served in the Oriental fashion on a carpet spread on the\nground. Everything was done most lavishly and gracefully. Nevertheless,\nI could not feel happy as to the prospects of the mission, and my heart\nsank as I wished Cavagnari good-by. When we had proceeded a few yards\nin our different directions, we both turned round, retraced our steps,\nshook hands once more, and parted forever.\u201d\n\nThe sequel is told in the succeeding chapter. \u201cBetween one and two\no\u2019clock on the morning of the 5th of September, I was awakened by my\nwife telling me that a telegraph man had been wandering around the\nhouse and calling for some time, but that no one had answered him. The\ntelegram told me that my worst fears had been only too fully realized.\u201d\nCavagnari and his party had been massacred by the Afghans.\n\nAgain, there are certain things which may not be given to a male friend\n(young, unmarried ministers excepted), such, for example, as a pair of\nslippers, because the recipient will be sure, metaphorically speaking,\nto walk away from the giver in them.\n\nThere is also current in some parts of New England a belief that it is\nunlucky to get one\u2019s life insured, or to make one\u2019s will, under the\ndelusion that doing either of these things will tend to shorten one\u2019s\nlife. This feeling comes of nothing less than a ridiculous fear of\nfacing even the remote probability involved in the act; and is of a\npiece with the studied avoidance of the subject of death, or willing\nallusion in any way, shape, or form to the dead, even of one\u2019s own kith\nand kin, quite like that singular belief held by the Indians which\nforbade any allusion to the dead whatsoever.\n\nSpilling the salt, as an omen of coming misfortune, is one of the\nmost widespread, as well as one of the most deeply rooted, of popular\ndelusions. It is said to be universal all over Asia, is found in\nsome parts of Africa, and is quite prevalent in Europe and America\nto-day. Vain to deny it, the unhappy delinquent who is so awkward as\nto spill salt at the table instantly finds all eyes turned upon him.\nWorse still, the antidote once practised of flinging three pinches of\nsalt over the left shoulder is no longer admissible in good society.\nInstantly every one present mentally recalls the omen. His host may\npolitely try to laugh it off, but all the same, a visible impression of\nsomething unpleasant remains.\n\nSomething was said in another place about the potency of the number\n\u201cthree\u201d to effect a charm either for good or for evil. Firemen and\nrailroad men are more or less given to the belief that if one fire or\none accident occurs, it will inevitably be followed by two more fires\nor accidents. A headline in a Boston newspaper, now before me, reads,\n\u201cThe same old three fires in succession,\u201d and then hypocritically\nexclaims, \u201cHow the superstitious point to the recurrence!\u201d\n\nThe superstition about railroad accidents is by no means confined\nto the trainmen, or other employees, but to some extent, at least,\nis shared even by the higher officials, who point to their past\nexperiences in the management of these iron highways as fully\nestablishing, to their minds, certain conditions. One of these\ngentlemen once said to me, after a bad accident on his road, \u201cIt is not\nso much this one particular accident that we dread, as what is coming\nafter it.\u201d I also knew of a conductor who asked for a leave of absence\nimmediately after the occurrence of a shocking wreck on the line.\n\nAlthough periodically confronted with a long series of most momentous\nevents in the world\u2019s history that have happened on that day of the\nweek, the superstition in regard to Friday, as being an unlucky day,\nhas so far withstood every assault. It will not down. Whether it exists\nto so great an extent as formerly may be questioned, but that it does\nexist in full force, more especially among sailors, is certain. We have\nit on good authority that this self-tormenting delusion grew out of the\nfact that the Saviour was crucified on Friday, ever after stigmatized\nas \u201changman\u2019s day,\u201d and, therefore, set apart for the execution of\ncriminals, now as before time.\n\nIt is not wholly improbable that some share of the odium resting upon\nFriday may arise from the fact of its being so regularly observed as a\nday of fasting, or at least _maigre_, by some religionists.\n\nIn some old diaries are found entries like the following: \u201cA vessel\nlost going out of Portland against the advice of all; all on board,\ntwenty-seven, drowned.\u201d It is easy to understand how such an event\nwould leave an indelible impression upon the minds of a whole\ngeneration.\n\nNotwithstanding the belief is openly scouted from the pulpit, and is\neven boldly defied by a few unbelieving sea-captains, the fact remains\nthat there are very many sober-minded persons who could not be induced\non any account to begin a journey on Friday. There are others who will\nnot embark in any new enterprise, or begin a new piece of work on that\nday; and still others who even go so far as to say that you must not\ncut your nails on Friday. A man could be named who could not be tempted\nto close a bargain on any other day of the week than Thursday. It is a\nfurther fact, which all connected with operating railroads will readily\nconfirm, that Friday is always the day of least travel on their lines.\nThis circumstance alone seems conclusive as to the state of popular\nfeeling. Apparently a brand has been set upon the sixth day of the week\nfor all time.\n\nNumerous instances might be given to show that men of the strongest\nintellect are as fallible in this respect as men of the lowest; but one\nsuch will suffice. Lord Byron once refused to be introduced to a lady\nbecause it was Friday; and on this same ill-starred day he would never\npay a visit.\n\n    \u201cSee the moon through the glass,\n    You\u2019ll have trouble while it lasts.\u201d\n\nThis warning couplet is still a household word in many parts of New\nEngland. It has been observed that even those sceptical persons who\nprofess to put no faith in it whatever, generally take good care to\nkeep on the right side of the window-glass. As bearing upon this branch\nof the general subject an incident is related by a reputable authority,\nas having occurred at a party given, not many years ago, by a gentleman\nholding a considerable station in life. It is therefore repeated here\nword for word.\n\n\u201cIn the midst of a social chat, at the close of the day, a footman\nrather briskly entered the drawing-room, and walked up to the back\nof the chair of the hostess and whispered something in her ear; she\nimmediately closed her eyes and gave her hand to the man, and was\nforthwith led by him from the room. The guests were rather astonished,\nbut after the lapse of a few moments the lady returned and resumed her\nseat.\n\n\u201cHer sudden departure having occasioned a rather uneasy pause in the\nconversation, she felt it necessary to state the cause of her singular\nconduct. She then told us that the New Harvest Moon had just made\nits appearance, and it was her custom to give a crown to any of her\nservants that first brought the information to her when that event\noccurred; and that the reason why she closed her eyes, and was led by\nthe footman out of the room to the open air, was that she might avoid\nthe evil consequences that were sure to happen to her if she obtained\nher first glimpse of the Harvest Moon through a pane of glass. This\nlady was highly accomplished, and possessed remarkable sagacity upon\nmost subjects, but was nevertheless a slave to a groundless fear of\nevil befalling her if she saw this particular New Moon in any other way\nthan in the open air.\u201d\n\nIt is passing strange, however, that the gentle and beautiful Queen\nof the Night should have been mostly associated with a malignant\ninfluence. Juliet pleads with Romeo not to swear by the \u201cinconstant\nmoon.\u201d The traditional witch gathers her simples only by the light of\nthe moon, as at no other time do they possess the same virtues to work\nmiraculous cures or potent spells. It is also an old belief that if a\nperson goes to sleep with the moonbeams shining full upon his uncovered\nface, he will be moonstruck, or become an idiot. I well remember to\nhave seen the officer of the watch awaken a number of sleepers, who\nhad taken refuge on the deck of a vessel from the stifling heat below.\nMilton speaks of\n\n          \u201cMoping melancholy\n    And moonstruck madness,\u201d\n\nwhich has become incorporated with the language under the significant\nnickname of \u201cluny.\u201d\n\nWhen we consider the already long list of material or immaterial\nobjects threatening us with dire misfortune, the wonder is how poor\nhumanity should have survived so many dangers ever impending over it\nlike the sword of Damocles. Really, we seem \u201cwalking between life and\ndeath.\u201d The catalogue is, however, by no means exhausted. A picture,\nparticularly if it be a family portrait, falling down from the wall,\nbodes a death in the family, or at least some great misfortune. This\nincident, somewhat startling, it must be confessed, to weak nerves, has\nbeen quite effectively used in fiction.\n\nNotwithstanding it is the national color of Ireland, green has the\nname of being unlucky. More strange still is the statement made by\nMr. Parnell\u2019s biographer that the famous Irish leader could not bear\nthe sight of green. Queer notion this, in a son of the Emerald Isle!\nMr. Barry O\u2019Brien goes on to say that Parnell \u201cwould not pass another\nperson on the stairs; was horror-stricken to find himself sitting with\nthree lighted candles; that the fall of a picture in a room made him\ndejected for the entire afternoon; and that he would have nothing to\nsay to an important bill, drawn up by a colleague, because it happened\nto contain thirteen clauses.\u201d It is added that the sight of green\nbanners, at the political meetings he addressed, often unnerved him.\n\nThe singular actions of a pet cat have recently gained wide currency\nand wider comment in connection with the ill-fated steamer Portland,\nwhich went down with all on board, during the great gale of November\n27, 1898. Not a soul was left to tell the tale. It was remarked that\npuss came off the boat before the regular hour for sailing had arrived,\nand though she had never before been known to miss a trip, she could\nnot be called or coaxed back on board, and the doomed craft therefore\nsailed without her. As a matter of fact, it has been noticed that in\ntimes of great disasters, like that just related, superstition that\nhas lain dormant for a time, always shows a new vigor, and finds a new\nreason for being.\n\nIn the course of my rambles along the New England coast, I found many\npeople holding to beliefs of one sort or another, who hotly resented\nthe mere suggestion that they were superstitious. The quaint and\ncurious delusions which have become ingrained in their lives from\ngeneration to generation, they do not regard in that light. For one\nthing they believe that if a dead body should remain in the house over\nSunday, there will be another death in the family before the year is\nout.\n\nThe ticking of the death-watch, once believed to forebode the\napproaching dissolution of some member of the family, so terrifying\nto our fathers and mothers, is now, fortunately, seldom heard or\nlittle regarded. While the superstition did prevail, there was nothing\nso calculated to strike terror to the very marrow of the appalled\nlisteners as the noise of this harmless little beetle, only a quarter\nof an inch long, tapping away in the decaying woodwork of an ancient\nwainscot.\n\nThere is no end of legendary matter concerning clocks. Sometimes\nnervous people have been frightened half out of their wits at hearing\na clock that had stopped, suddenly strike the hour. Clocks have been\nknown to stop, too, at the exact hour when a death took place in the\nhouse. But even more startling was an instance, lately vouched for by\nreputable witnesses, of a clock, of the coffin pattern, of course, from\nwhich the works had been removed, playing this same grewsome trick.\nThe first case might be accounted for, rationally, by some fault in\nthe mechanism, or some rusty spring suddenly set in motion; but all\ntheories necessarily fail with clocks without works. Admonitions or\nwarnings are often associated with clocks, as has been noticed in\nconnection with marriage customs. And the mystical relation between\ntime and eternity is often brought to mind by the stopping of the watch\nin a drowned person\u2019s pocket, or the relation of some curious legend\nlike the following, without comment or qualification, in a reputable\nnewspaper:--\n\n\u201cThere is a curious legend about the old clock, which is to be\nsuperseded by a new one, at Washington, Pennsylvania. It is stated that\nabout twenty years ago a person was hung in the courtyard. The clock,\nwhich had always tolled out the hour regularly, stopped at the hour\nof two o\u2019clock, being the hour at which the drop fell that sent the\nunfortunate into eternity. Since that time, many aver, the clock has\nnever struck again.\u201d\n\nSo, also, the howling of a dog, either by day or by night, under a sick\nperson\u2019s window, is to this day held by the weak-minded to portend the\ndeath of that person. Some writers think they have traced this belief\nto the symbolism of ancient mythology, where the dog stands for the\nhowling night-wind, on which the souls of the dead rode to the banks of\nthe Styx, but this hypothesis seems quite far-fetched.\n\nThe winding-sheet in the candle is another self-tormenting belief of\nevil portent, now happily gone out with the candle.\n\nThen again, to pass from this subject, a single case of nosebleed often\nexcites the liveliest fears on the part of nervous people, on account\nof a very old belief that it was a sure omen of a death taking place in\nthe family. Not long ago the following choice morsel met my eye while\nreading in a book: \u201cOur steward has this moment lost a drop of blood,\nwhich involuntarily fell from his pug nose. \u2018There,\u2019 said he, \u2018I have\nlost my mother--a good friend.\u2019\u201d\n\nBreaking a looking-glass denotes that a death will take place in the\nfamily within the year. This mode of self-torture is supposed to derive\nits origin from the great use formerly made of mirrors by magicians\nand other obsolete impostors in carrying on their mystical trade.\nAstrologers also made use of the looking-glass in practising the art\nof divination or foretelling events, probably by means of some such\ncunning contrivances as are now employed with startling effects by our\nown \u201cwizards\u201d and \u201cnecromancers.\u201d Quite naturally the innocent glass\nitself came to be looked upon by the ignorant with superstitious awe,\nand the breaking of one as the sure forerunner of calamity. We do not\nthink, however, that this old superstition is by any means as widely\nprevalent as it once was.\n\nIt is pleasing to chronicle the total disappearance of that terrible\nbugaboo, the Evil Eye, which so long kept our ancestors in a state\nof nervous apprehension fearful to contemplate. It is now only\nperpetuated by a saying. So with that other equally repulsive belief\nin the efficacy of touching a dead body, as a means of convicting a\nsuspected murderer by the fresh bleeding from the wound. Both of these\nsuperstitions were fully accepted by the first settlers of New England,\nand perhaps also in other of the colonies. John Winthrop relates a very\nharrowing case of infanticide, in which this monstrous test was put in\npractice to convict the erring mother.[19] The superstition is said to\nbe of German origin.\n\nThe following very curious piece of superstition is found in Colonel\nMay\u2019s Journal of his trip to the Ohio, early in the century. It seems\nthat a man had fallen into the river and was drowned before help could\nreach him. The following method was employed to recover the body. First\nthey took the shirt which the drowned man had last worn, put a whole\nloaf of good, new bread, weighing four pounds, into it, and tied it\nup carefully into a bundle. The bundle was then taken in a boat to the\nplace where the man had fallen in, a line and tackle attached to it,\nand then set afloat on the water. The rescuers said that the bread\nwould float until it should come directly over the body, when it would\nsink and thus discover the location of the dead man. Unfortunately, the\nline was not long enough, so that when the loaf filled with water and\nsank, the tackle disappeared with it.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nX\n\nOF HAUNTED HOUSES, PERSONS, AND PLACES\n\n    \u201cThree times all in the dead of night,\n    A bell was heard to ring.\u201d--_Tickell._\n\n\nHaunted houses have proved an insuperable stumbling-block to those\nwiseacres who no sooner insist that superstition has died out than the\nfamiliar headline in the daily paper, \u201cA haunted house,\u201d stares them\nfull in the face. It is believed that many such houses stand tenantless\nto-day because of the secret fear they inspire in the minds of the\ntimid or superstitious, who, quite naturally, shrink from living under\nthe same roof with disembodied spirits. It has already been noted that\nM. Camille Flammarion is a firm believer in haunted houses. Here is\nwhat he has to say upon that much debated subject:--\n\n\u201cThere is no longer any room to doubt the fact that certain houses are\nhaunted.\n\n\u201cI began the scientific studies of these questions on November 15,\n1861, and I have continued it ever since. I have received more than\nfour thousand letters upon these questions from the learned men of\nevery land, and I am glad to be able to say that some of the most\ninteresting letters come from America.\u201d\n\nFor every haunted house there must, of course, be an invisible intruder\nwho comes only in the small hours, when the effects of its unwelcome\npresence would, of course, be most terrifying to weak nerves. But\nit is to be remarked that we hear nothing nowadays of the old-time,\nhair-raising, blood-curdling ghost whose coming forebode something\nterrible about to happen, or who had some awful revelation to make.\nThat type of ghost has passed away. The modern ghost never makes set\nspeeches in a sepulchral voice or leaves a palpable smell of brimstone\nbehind. It comes rather in a spirit of mischief-making, shown in such\npetty annoyances as setting the house bells ringing, overturning\narticles of furniture, twitching the bedclothes from off a sleeping\nperson in the coldest of cold nights, putting out the lights, or\nmaking a horrible racket, first in one room, then in another, as if it\nrevelled in pure wantonness of purpose. In short, there is no limit to\nthe ingenious deviltries perpetrated by this nocturnal disturber of\ndomestic peace and quiet.\n\nAfter two or three sleepless nights, followed by days of quaking\napprehension, the occupants usually move out, declaring that they would\nnot live in the house if it were given to them. And so it stands vacant\nindefinitely, shunned by all to whom its evil reputation has become\nknown, a visible monument of active superstition.\n\nThat all these things have happened as lately as in this year of\ngrace (1900) is too well known to be denied. And as most people would\ndesire to shun publicity in such a matter, there are probably very many\ncases that never reach the public eye at all. One such is reported of\na family at Charlestown, Massachusetts, being disturbed by strange\nnoises, as of some one pounding on the walls or floors at all hours of\nthe night. Even the police, when summoned, failed to lay hands on the\ninvisible tormentor, who, like the ghost in Hamlet, was here, there,\nand nowhere in a jiffy.\n\nOne of the most singular cases that have come to my knowledge, perhaps\nbecause the unaccountable disturbances happened in the daytime, whereas\nthey habitually occur only in the night-time, when churchyards are\nsupposed to yawn, was that of a haunted schoolhouse. This was downright\nbravado. If we do not err, in this case a bell was repeatedly rung\nduring the regular sessions, by no visible agency, to the amazement\nof both teachers and scholars. After a vain search for the cause, the\nschoolhouse was shut up, and so remained for a considerable time, a\nspeechless but tangible witness to the general belief that the devil\nwas at the bottom of it all.\n\nNot many generations ago, when ghosts were perhaps more numerous than\nat present, there were professional exorcists who could be hired to\nclear the premises of ghosts or no pay; but this is now a lost art. As\nShakespeare says:--\n\n    \u201cNo exorciser harm thee!\n    Nor no witchcraft charm thee!\n    Ghost unlaid forbear thee!\u201d\n\nWhile upon this interesting subject it may be instructive to know what\nour ancestors sometimes suffered from similar visitations. We take the\nfollowing extract from Ben Franklin\u2019s _New England Courant_, of 1726:--\n\n\u201cThey write from Plymouth, that an extraordinary event has lately\nhappened in that neighborhood, in which, some say, the Devil and the\nman of the house are very much to blame. The man it seems, would now\nand then in a frolic call upon the Devil to come down the chimney;\nand some little time after the last invitation, the goodwife\u2019s pudding\nturned black in the boiling, which she attributed to the Devil\u2019s\ndescending the chimney, and getting into the pot upon her husband\u2019s\nrepeated wishes for him. Great numbers of people have been to view the\npudding, and to inquire into the circumstances; and most of them agree\nthat so sudden a change must be produced by a preternatural power.\nHowever, \u2019tis thought it will have this good effect upon the man, that\nhe will no more be so free with the Devil in his cups, lest his Satanic\nMajesty should again unluckily tumble into the pot.\u201d\n\nBut houses are by no means the only things subject to these astounding\nvisitations. Dark and secluded ponds, thick swamps, and barren\nhillsides often bear that unsavory reputation to-day, it may be from\nassociation with some weird tale or legend, or mayhap because such\nplaces seldom fail, of themselves, to produce a certain effect upon\nan active imagination. Let any such person, who has ever been lost\nin some thick forest, recall his sensations upon first making the\nunwelcome discovery. The solemn old woods then seem all alive with--\n\n    \u201cThe dim and shadowy armies of our unquiet dreams,\n    Their footsteps brush the dewy fern and print the shaded streams.\u201d\n\nAs regards haunted ships, the following incident, taken down as\nliterally as I could transcribe it at the time, from the lips of a\nseafaring friend, speaks for itself:--\n\n\u201c\u2018Twas some dozen year ago, may be less, may be more--beats all how\ntime travels when you\u2019ve turned the half-century post--I was aboard\nof the old _Paul Pry_--queer name, now, warn\u2019t it? We was a lyin\u2019 in\nHavana harbor, all snug, about a mile from shore. Well, the mate he\nwas on watch. In port, you know, ships always keep slack watch. Our\u2019n\nwas light, nothin\u2019 in her, hold all swep\u2019 out clean that very day,\n\u2019cause we was to begin takin\u2019 in sugar and molasses in the mornin\u2019. All\nhands were off in the ship\u2019s boat visitin\u2019 another ship--all \u2019cept the\nsteward. The old man, he was ashore.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m slow, but you just hold your hosses. All to once\u2019t the mate\nthought he heern somebody walkin\u2019 back\u2019ards and for\u2019ards plumb down in\nthe hold. He walked to the open hatch and called down, \u2018Who\u2019s there?\u2019\nNo answer. He listened. No sound. Thinkin\u2019 it might possibly have\nbeen the steward getting his firewood, the mate went for\u2019ard to the\nsteward\u2019s room to see if it was so, and found him fast asleep in his\nbunk. That settled it. Nobody aboard but them two.\n\n\u201cThe mate he said nothin\u2019 to nobody, but got a lantern and slipped\nquietly down the ladder into the hold, determined to find out who was\nskylarkin\u2019 there, for I tell you the mate he was a game one all the\ntime, and don\u2019t you b\u2019leeve he warn\u2019t!\n\n\u201cHe hunted high and low, from the fore-peak to the run, but not a soul\nwas to be seen anywhere; but just as soon as he stood still he would\nhear those myster\u2019ous footsteps go trampin\u2019 fore and aft, fore and aft,\nas plain as day, right by him, where he stood.\n\n\u201cBy this time the mate had got pretty well worked up, I want you to\nknow, so he just gin one kinder skeered look around him, and then\nhustled himself off up that ladder just a leetle mite faster than he\ncame down, wonderin\u2019 to himself what it all could mean, and thinkin\u2019\nall sorts of things to once\u2019t.\n\n\u201cThen he went and woke up the steward, and both on \u2019em went and\nlistened fust at one hatch, then at t\u2019other, and sure enough that\nconsarned tramp, tramp, tramp, was a-goin\u2019 on agin just the same as\nbefore. Then they pulled on the hatches. But, Lor\u2019 bless you, it warn\u2019t\nno use. Them critters down below had the bulge on \u2019em every time.\n\n\u201cThe mate he said nothin\u2019 \u2019cept to the old man, who looked as black as\na new-painted deadeye with the lanyards unrove when he heerd it; but\nsomehow it leaked out among the crew before we sailed, and one or two\nran away and laid low till the ship was clean out of the harbor.\n\n\u201cIt was gen\u2019lly b\u2019leeved fore and aft that them there footsteps was\na warnin\u2019. Hows\u2019ever, the thing quieted down some in a day or two, so\nnothin\u2019 more was heerd of the walkin\u2019 match down below; but on the\nthird day out, I think it was, we was struck by one of them northers,\nand in spite of all we could do we was drove ashore on a reef off the\nBermudys, where the _Paul Pry_ brought up all standin\u2019, and there she\nleft her old bones. The wreckers they came and took off the crew, and\nfetched \u2019em all safe into Nassau. Now if that ship warn\u2019t haunted, I\nmiss my guess. You can\u2019t most always tell about them things, I know;\nbut ef it was skylarkin\u2019, all I\u2019ve got to say is, it was a purty neat\njob, and don\u2019t you forget it.\u201d\n\nThere are also places, as well as houses, which have the reputation\nof being haunted, sometimes through the commission of a horrible\ncrime in that particular locality, sometimes through the survival of\nsome obscure local tradition. It matters not. Once give the place a\nbad name, and local tradition preserves the memory of it for many\ngenerations. Every schoolboy is familiar with the weird legend of\nNix\u2019s Mate, a submerged island at the entrance to Boston Harbor,\nwhere pirates were formerly hung in chains. Appledore Island, on the\ncoast of New Hampshire, once had the name of being haunted by the\nuneasy ghost of one of Captain Kidd\u2019s piratical crew. The face of the\nspectre was said by those who had seen it, or who thought they had\nseen it, to be dreadful to behold, and the neck to bear the livid\nmark of the hangman\u2019s noose. Once, no islander could be found hardy\nenough to venture himself on Appledore after dark. Indeed, such places\nof fearsome reputation are found all over New England. For example,\nthere is the shrieking woman of Marblehead, a remarkable spook, who at\ncertain intervals of time could be heard uttering the most heartrending\ncries for mercy to her inhuman murderers. Then, again, there is the\nlegend of Harry Main, reputed pirate and wrecker, who, by means of\nfalse lights, decoyed simple mariners to destruction on the shoals of\nIpswich Bar, to which for his many crimes the wretch was doomed to be\nchained down to the fatal spot to which he had lured his unsuspecting\nvictims.[20]\n\nQuite naturally these legends mostly cluster about the seacoast,\nbut now and then one is found in the interior. One corner of the\ntown of Chester, New Hampshire, lifts into view an eminence known as\nRattlesnake Hill, one rocky side of which is pierced entirely through,\nthus forming a cavern of great notoriety in all the country round. This\ncavern is known as the Devil\u2019s Den, and many were the frightful stories\ntold around winter firesides of the demons who, of yore, haunted it,\nand who, all unseen of mortal eyes, there held their midnight orgies\nwithin the gloomy recesses of the mountain.\n\nThere are two entrances to this cavern, both leading to an interior,\nsubterranean chamber, whose vaulted roof is thickly studded with\npear-shaped protuberances that are said to shine and sparkle when the\nflame of a torch sheds a ruddy glow upon them. According to popular\ntradition the path leading to the cavern was always kept open, summer\nand winter. Many years ago the poet Whittier put the legend into\nverse:--\n\n    \u201c\u2019Tis said that this cave is an evil place--\n    The chosen haunt of a fallen race--\n    That the midnight traveller oft hath seen\n    A red flame tremble its jaws between,\n    And lighten and quiver the boughs among,\n    Like the fiery play of a serpent\u2019s tongue:\n    That sounds of fear from its chambers swell--\n    The ghostly gibber,--the fiendish yell;\n    That bodiless hands at the entrance wave--\n    And hence they have named it the Demon\u2019s Cave.\u201d\n\nThe persistent life of such local traditions as these fully attests to\nthe belief of former generations of men in the active agency of the\nEvil One in human affairs. And not only this, but this omnipresent\ndevil has actually left his mark, legibly stamped, in so many places,\nand his name in so many others, that to doubt his actual presence were\nnot only unreasonable but ungenerous. Even his footprints are found\nhere and there, yet strange to say, few represent a cloven foot. The\nsonorous names, Devil\u2019s Pulpit and Devil\u2019s Cartway, are found within\na few miles of each other on the coast of Maine. Moreover, do we not\nknow from a perusal of the testimony given at the celebrated witchcraft\ntrials, that the arch-fiend had been both seen and spoken with _in\npropria persona_?\n\nIt used to be a not uncommon threat with quick-tempered people to\nsay that if their wishes or expectations were not gratified to their\nliking, they would \u201chaunt you\u201d when they died. I myself have often\nheard this expression used either in jest or in earnest; and when used\nit never failed to leave a disagreeable impression on the listener.\n\nIt is not a great many years ago since an account was telegraphed all\nover the country, and duly appeared in the daily newspapers, of an\nhonest citizen, a resident of one of the largest towns in Pennsylvania,\nwhose wife \u201cwhile yet in good health, frequently admonished her\nfriends that she did not wish her body to be buried in a certain\nwet graveyard. She threatened to \u2018speak to them\u2019 if her wish was not\ngranted, and went so far as to tell them how she would haunt them by\ncoming back in ghostly form. The wife died, and her body was buried\nin the graveyard she had disliked. Now, strange as it may appear, her\nhusband alleges that, since the funeral took place, she has appeared at\nhis bedside several times each week, always looking at him, and always\nmaking motions with her bony hands, as a mark of her displeasure.\nThe husband says he is unable to sleep, and also that he is sure the\nstrange midnight visitor is none other than his wife. He declares that\nwhatever other people may think of it, he himself firmly believes that\nhe has brought the enmity of the spirit upon himself and children by\ntheir refusal to grant the wife\u2019s last request. The children\u2019s beds\nare also visited by her, as they say, and as a consequence the family\nis kept in constant alarm. One of the nearest neighbors has also seen\nthe \u2018spook\u2019 several times, and corroborates the family in every\nparticular. The terrified husband relates the facts himself, and it is\nthe responsibility of the man that warrants publishing his story of the\nappearance of the spook. He gives the account of the strange happenings\nin a straightforward manner, which impresses a person with its truth,\nand he further says it is not imagination, a dream, or an attack of\nnightmare, but that the spook always comes when he is wide awake. The\nwomen and children of the neighborhood are in great terror, and the\npeople hardly venture out of doors after dark.\u201d\n\nUpon the heels of this experience comes the following telegram to the\nAssociated Press, thus disseminating, through its thousand channels,\nsuperstition broadcast:--\n\n        [\u201cCopyright, 1899, by The Associated Press.]\n\n    \u201cLONDON, March 4, 1899. Another link in the chain of illfortune\n    which has followed the famous Newstead Abbey was forged this\n    week. It seems that a curse rests on the abbey, and that the\n    eldest has never succeeded to the estate.\n\n    \u201cByron sold it to Col. Wildman in 1808, who died childless. The\n    trustees sold it to Webb, the famous sportsman, whose eldest\n    son died this week. Byron had the skull which was reported to\n    have belonged to the ghost that haunted the abbey, and he used\n    it as a punch bowl. Webb buried the skull, hoping to lay the\n    ghost.\u201d\n\nAs related to the general subject, it is too well known that certain\npersons to-day profess the power of conversing with disembodied\nspirits, to need more than a passing reference to this particular form\nof belief, which some hold to as firmly as to an article of religious\nfaith, while others consider it a delusion or worse. Forty odd years\nago spirit rappings convulsed society from one end of the country to\nthe other. Spiritual s\u00e9ances were vehemently denounced from the pulpit,\nand while fully reported also by the press, the mediums were charged\nwith being rank impostors, humbugs, and the like. Alleged exposure\nfollowed exposure. Yet somehow the belief, such as it is, has contrived\nto outlive ridicule, calumny, and persecution--the common lot of every\nnew and startling departure from the older beliefs--until to-day it has\nacquired not only the right to live, but also that of calm discussion.\n\nDr. Samuel Johnson once asked the pertinent question, \u201cIf moral evil\nbe consistent with the government of the Deity, why may not physical\nevil be consistent with it?\u201d The solemn declaration that the sins of\nthe fathers shall be visited upon the children unto the third and\nfourth generations, sometimes recurs to us with startling force, more\nespecially when the awful anathema is brought so near home to us as it\nis by the following veracious incident.[21]\n\nThere is a certain well-known locality in Essex County, Massachusetts,\nwhich has long borne the evil reputation of being haunted, owing to\nthe tradition that a cruel murder was committed there. According to\nsome of the old people from whom I had the story, strange sights and\nsounds have been both seen and heard near the spot where the crime took\nplace. For instance, a child would be heard crying out most pitifully,\nthough nothing could be seen. One belated horseman positively declared\nthat when passing this accursed place he had seen a child\u2019s coffin\nmoving along the road, as he moved; and that the spectre followed him\nalmost into the town of Ipswich. It is said to be a fact that many of\nthe old folks were afraid to pass this place of dread after dark.\n\nAs to the origin of the story, with its highly dramatic features,\naccounts differ somewhat; but considerable pains have been taken to\narrive at the truth, since it is a matter of general notoriety in\nthe neighborhood referred to, although the actual facts may have no\nrelation whatever to the \u201cskeleton in the closet\u201d disclosed by the\nstory itself.\n\nThe story goes back to colonial times, and chiefly has to do with the\ntwo daughters of a family in good social standing. These young women\nhad for a serving-maid a negro slave, who was treated with marked\nseverity by her haughty mistresses.\n\nIn time, the slave woman bore a child. Angered at the coming of the\nluckless little waif, the cruel sisters resolved to put it out of the\nway. One day the mother found it hid away in a hogshead of flax, in the\ngarret. Failing in this attempt, the sisters then took the child, stuck\npins into its veins, and tried to smother it between two feather beds.\nWhen the infant was thought to be quite dead, the body was thrown into\na brook, under a nearby bridge which spanned it. Life, however, was\nnot quite extinct, so that the child\u2019s cries were heard by a passing\ntraveller, who rescued it, but it soon after bled to death from the\nwounds inflicted upon it.\n\nHalf crazed by this dastardly act, the forlorn mother then and there\ncalled down the curse of God upon the inhuman sisters and their sons\nto all future generations.\n\nThis is substantially the legend. Now for the sequel. It is said to\nbe a fact that all the sons of the daughters of that family, and no\nothers, have ever since been afflicted with a strange and incurable\nmalady, the principal feature being a tendency to profuse bleeding\nfrom the most trifling cuts or wounds. After some days have elapsed, a\nmere scratch will begin to bleed copiously and so continue until the\nsufferer has lost so much blood that in some cases it is said he has\nbled to death. From this circumstance the persons so afflicted are\nknown by the name of \u201cbleeders.\u201d\n\nMr. Felt asserts that the family in which this singular hemorrhage\nfirst appeared brought it with them from England; which, if true, would\nsummarily dispose of the legend; but his statement does not accord with\nthe story as told on the spot. It is here related as it was told to me.\n\nReference was earlier made to the old-time, respectable ghost of our\nfathers, who like the ghost in Hamlet, made his unwelcome appearance\nonly to subserve the ends of justice. This practical generation\nhardly realizes, we think, how lately the ghost was accepted in that\ncharacter, or how trustworthy his evidence was deemed by the purveyors\nof public intelligence. On turning over the files of the _New England\nWeekly Journal_ of December 1, 1729, we came across the following ghost\nstory, here reproduced _verbatim_:--\n\n\u201cLast week, one belonging to Ipswich came to Boston and related that\nsome time since he was at Canso in Nova Scotia, and that on a certain\nday there appeared to him an apparition in blood and wounds, and told\nhim that at such a time and place, mentioning both, he was barbarously\nmurdered by one, who was at Rhode Island, and desired him to go to the\nsaid person and charge him with the said murder, and prosecute him\ntherefor, naming several circumstances relating to the murder; and\nthat since his arrival from Canso to Ipswich the said apparition had\nappeared to him again, and urged him immediately to prosecute the said\naffair. The abovesaid person having related the matter was advised and\nencouraged to go to Rhode Island and engage therein, and he accordingly\nset out for that place on Thursday last.\u201d[22]\n\nDr. Timothy Dwight, in his \u201cTravels,\u201d records, with approval, the\nfollowing singular superstition relative to the barberry, which is so\ncommon in New England. \u201cThis bush,\u201d he remarks, \u201cis, in New England,\ngenerally believed to blast both wheat and rye. Its blossoms, which are\nvery numerous, and continue a considerable time, emit very copiously\na pungent effluvium believed to be so acrimonious as to injure\nessentially both these kinds of grain.\n\n\u201cIn Southborough, a township in the county of Worcester, a Mr. Johnson\nsowed with rye a field of new ground. At the south end of this field\nalso grew a single barberry bush. The grain was blasted throughout the\nwhole length of the field, on a narrow tract commencing at the bush\nand proceeding directly in the course, and to the extent, to which the\nblossoms were diffused by the wind.\u201d\n\nCertes, that was a most extraordinary belief held by the simple country\nfolk in a certain quiet corner of New England, that candles made of\nthe tallow obtained from a dead body, would, when lighted, render the\nperson carrying them invisible; and furthermore that a lighted candle\nof this description, if placed within a bedroom, would effectually\nprevent a sleeping person from waking until it should be extinguished.\nThis I had from the lips of a most intelligent and estimable lady, who\nknew whereof she spoke.\n\nI confess that on hearing this statement I realized that I had now\nfound more than I was looking for. But incredible as it may seem at\nfirst, all doubts were set at rest by the following article found\namong some fragments of old superstition in a certain treatise on that\nsubject. Here is the article verbatim:--\n\n\u201cThe Hand of Glory is a piece of foreign superstition common in France,\nGermany, and Spain; and is a charm used by housebreakers and assassins.\nIt is the hand of a hanged man, holding a candle made of the fat of a\nhanged man, virgin wax, and siasme of Lapland. It stupefies those to\nwhom it is presented, and renders them motionless, insomuch that they\ncould not stir, any more than if they were dead.\u201d\n\nI do not find any recent mention of the appearance of that ancient\nbugbear known as the Will-o\u2019-the-wisp, or magical Jack-o\u2019-lantern,\nassociated with the unearthly light sometimes seen flitting about\nancient graveyards. Science has practically accounted for this natural\nphenomenon to the general acceptance; but science has not yet been able\nto do away with the instinctive dread with which the vicinity of a\ngraveyard is associated in most minds. I well remember how, when a lad,\nI dreaded to pass a graveyard after dark. There was a sickly feeling\nof something lurking among those ghostly looking tombstones. I looked\nanother way. I whistled, I looked behind me. Vain effort! I ran from\nthe spot as if all the ghosts my fears had conjured up were close at my\nheels.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nXI\n\nOF PRESENTIMENTS\n\n    \u201cMethinks I hear, methinks I see\n    Ghosts, goblins, fiends.\u201d--_Burton._\n\n\nWe approach a still different class of evil omens, or such as are\nbelieved by many to \u201ccast their shadows before,\u201d in such a manner\nas to prey upon the spirits, or show their visible effects in the\ndaily actions of men, usually well balanced, with a feeling akin\nto respectful fear. Let other forms of superstition be never so\nmirth-provoking, the reality of this one, at least to those of an\nimaginative or highly impressible nature, is such that we are sobered\nat once. What concerns such momentous events as life and death is\nreally no jesting matter.\n\nThere may be, probably is, a scientific explanation for those fancies\nthat sometimes come over us, with a sinking feeling at the heart. Men\nusually keep silent. Women more often give utterance to their feelings.\nHow many times have we heard this remark: \u201cO dear, I feel as if\nsomething was going to happen!\u201d\n\nThere is still another phase of the subject. Probably hundreds,\nperhaps thousands, could be found, who, at some time or other, have\npassed through some strange experience, which they are wholly unable\nto account for on any rational theory or ground whatever. Perhaps it\nhas been to the inner man what the skeleton in the closet is to the\nfamily home. Unfortunately, it is only in moments when men lay bare\ntheir inmost thoughts to each other that these things, so valuable from\nthe standpoint of psychology, leak out. What is, then, the secret\npower, which, in our waking hours, our sober consciousness, is able\nto oppress our spirits like some hideous nightmare? In its nature it\nseems most often a warning of coming evil or future event,--in fact, an\nomen of which we obtain the knowledge by accident, or without design or\npremeditation. Were it not for the fear of ridicule, we are persuaded\nthat a multitude of persons could testify to some very interesting\nphenomena of this kind, drawn from their own experiences.\n\nThere was a woman whom I knew very well, in a little seaport of Maine,\na respectable, middle-aged matron, who asserted that no one ever died\nin that village unless she had a warning. Precisely what the nature of\nthat warning was she would never divulge; but it is nevertheless a fact\nthat she was often consulted by her neighbors when any one was taken\nseriously ill, and that her oracular dictum received full and entire\ncredit among them.\n\nIn that same little seaport the superstition is current that a sick\nperson will not die till ebb tide. As that goes out, so does the life.\nThis particular article of superstitious faith still holds in some\nparts of England, we understand, and is made use of by Dickens in\n\u201cDavid Copperfield.\u201d\n\nThe following incident came to my knowledge while I was in the near\nneighborhood of the place where a recent shocking railroad accident\nhad happened. Naturally, it was the one topic of conversation, far and\nnear. The engine-man, an old and trusted servant of the company, went\ndown with his engine in the wreck. While being dug out from under his\nengine, crushed and bleeding, the poor fellow said to his rescuers:\n\u201cThree times I\u2019ve seen a man on the track at this very place, and three\ntimes I\u2019ve stopped my engine. I said this morning that I wouldn\u2019t go\nover the road again; but couldn\u2019t get any one to take my place, and\nhere I am.\u201d\n\nThat a sinister presentiment should cross one in moments of extreme\nperil, may be easily conceived, but why it should occur, and does\noccur, at times when no known danger threatens, or any mental or\nphysical condition would seem to warrant it, is not so easily\nunderstood. Yet history is full of such examples, related, too, not of\nthe weaker sort, but of the strongest characters. Mr. Motley, in his\n\u201cJohn of Barneveld,\u201d gives a vivid picture of Henry IV. of France just\nbefore his death. The great monarch was on the point of departure,\nat the head of the best appointed army he had ever commanded, for\nthe war against Spain. \u201cBut he delayed for a few days to take part\nin the public festivities in honor of the coronation of his queen.\nThese festivities he dreaded, and looked forward to them with gloomy\nforebodings. He was haunted with fears that they involved his own\nlife, and that he should not survive them. He said many times to his\nfavorite minister, Sully: \u2018I know not how it is, but my heart tells me\nthat some misfortune is to befall me. I shall never go out of it.\u2019 He\nhad dreams, also, which assumed to him the force of revelations, that\nhe was to die in a carriage, and at the first magnificent festival he\ngave. Sully asked him why he did not abandon the proposed festivities\nat the coronation, and actually went to the queen to persuade her to\ncountermand them. But she refused in high indignation, being, as is\nnow supposed, in the conspiracy against his life. The result is well\nknown: the king was assassinated in his carriage by Ravaillac, as the\nfestivities were in progress.\u201d\n\nEvery one remembers the curious incident in regard to Lord Thomas\nLyttleton\u2019s vision, as related in Boswell\u2019s \u201cJohnson,\u201d predicting the\ntime of his death, and its exact fulfilment; and Johnson\u2019s solemn\ncomments thereon. \u201cIt is the most extraordinary thing that has happened\nin my day. I heard it with my own ears from his uncle, Lord Westcote.\u201d\nLord Byron once observed that several remarkable things had happened on\nhis birthday, as they also had to Napoleon. Marie Antoinette, too, was\na firm believer in these presentiments. She thus declares herself in\nlanguage that now seems prophetic: \u201cAt my wedding something whispered\nto me that I was signing my death warrant. At the last moment I would\nhave retreated if I could have done so.\u201d\n\nOur early New England historian, Winthrop, mentions a singular case of\npresentiment of death, experienced by one Baker, of Salem. This man, on\ngoing forth to his work, in the morning, told his wife he should never\nsee her more. He was killed by a stick of timber, falling upon him,\nthat same day.\n\nIt is quite true that we do not attach nearly as much importance to\nevents happening a long time ago as to those occurring in our own\nday; for one thing, perhaps, because they do not seem so easy of\nverification; for another, because we choose to believe that they\nmerely reflect the ignorance of a past age. That there is really no\ndifference in the susceptibility of man to such premonitions, so\nlong as he shall be the creature of feeling, is proved by the most\nirrefragable testimony. The poet Whittier, who took a peculiar delight\nin the legendary tales of New England, has related one or two incidents\nthat came within his own knowledge, to this effect. \u201cA very honest and\nintelligent neighbor of mine,\u201d says the narrator, \u201conce told me that\nat the precise moment when his brother was drowned in the Merrimack\nRiver, many miles distant, he felt a sudden and painful sensation--a\ndeath-like chill upon the heart, such as he had never before\nexperienced. And,\u201d adds the poet, \u201cI have heard many similar relations.\u201d\n\nThe following, he says, \u201care the facts,\u201d relative to another incident\nthat happened in his vicinity. \u201cIn September, 1831, a worthy and highly\nesteemed inhabitant of this town (Haverhill, Mass.) died suddenly on\nthe bridge over the Merrimack, by the bursting of a blood-vessel.\nIt was just at daybreak, when he was engaged with another person\nin raising the draw of the bridge for the passage of a sloop. The\nsuddenness of the event, the excellent character of the deceased,\nand above all, a vague rumor that some extraordinary disclosure was\nto be made, drew together a large concourse at the funeral. After\nthe solemn services were concluded, Thomas, the brother of the dead\nman--himself a most exemplary Christian--rose up and desired to relate\nsome particulars regarding his brother\u2019s death. He then stated--and his\nmanner was calm, solemn, impressive--that more than a month previous\nto his death, his brother had told him that his feelings had been\npainfully disturbed by seeing, at different times on the bridge, a\nquantity of human blood; that sometimes while he was gazing upon it,\nit suddenly disappeared, as if removed by an invisible hand; ... that\nmany times in the dusk of the evening, he had seen a vessel coming down\nthe river, which vanished just as it reached the draw; and that, at\nthe same time, he had heard a voice calling in a faint and lamentable\ntone, \u2018I am dying!\u2019 and that the voice sounded like his own: that then\nhe knew the vision was for him, and that his hour of departure was at\nhand. Thomas, moreover, stated that a few days before the melancholy\nevent took place, his brother, after assuring him that he would be\ncalled upon to testify to the accounts which he had given of the vision\non the bridge, told him that he had actually seen the same vessel go up\nthe river whose spectral image he had seen in his vision, and that when\nit returned the fatal fulfilment would take place.\u201d\n\nThough of still earlier date, the remarkable premonition of Rev. Samuel\nNewman, of Rehoboth, will bear being repeated here. According to his\nbiographer, he not only felt a certain presage of the approach of\ndeath, but seemed to triumph in the prospect of its being near. Yet\nhe was apparently in perfect health, and preached a sermon from Job\nxiv. 14, \u201cAll the days of my appointed time will I wait till my change\ncome.\u201d In the afternoon of the following Lord\u2019s Day, he asked the\ndeacon to pray with him, saying he had not long to live. As soon as he\nhad finished his prayer he said the time was come when he must leave\nthe world; but his friends seeing no sign of approaching dissolution,\nthought it was merely the effect of imagination. Immediately he turned\naway, saying, \u201cAngels, do your office!\u201d and expired on the spot.\n\nLord Roberts of Kandahar relates the following of himself: \u201cMy\nintention, when I left Kabul, was to ride as far as the Khyber Pass;\nbut suddenly a presentiment, which I have never been able to explain\nto myself, made me retrace my steps and hurry back toward Kabul--a\npresentiment of coming trouble which I can only characterize as\ninstinctive.\n\n\u201cThe feeling was justified when, about halfway between Butkhak and\nKabul, I was met by Sir Donald Stewart and my chief of the staff,\nwho brought me the astounding news of the total defeat by Ayab\nKhan of Brigadier-general Burrows\u2019s brigade at Malwand, and of\nLieutenant-general Primrose, with the remainder of his force, being\nbesieged at Kandahar.\u201d[23]\n\nMost people are familiar with the story told by President Lincoln to a\nfriend,--told too, in his own half-playful, half-pathetic way, as if to\nminimize the effect upon that friend\u2019s mind. It is given in the words\nof that friend:--\n\n\u201cIt was just after my election in 1860, when the news had been coming\nin thick and fast all day and there had been a great \u2018hurrah, boys,\u2019\nso that I was well tired out and went home to rest, throwing myself\ndown on a lounge in my chamber. Opposite where I lay was a bureau with\na swinging glass upon it (and here he got up and placed furniture\nto illustrate the position), and looking in that glass I saw myself\nreflected nearly at full length; but my face, I noticed, had _two_\nseparate and distinct images, the tip of the nose of one being about\nthree inches from the tip of the other. I was a little bothered,\nperhaps startled, and got up and looked in the glass, but the illusion\nvanished. On lying down again, I saw it a second time, plainer if\npossible, than before; and then I noticed that one of the faces was a\nlittle paler--say, five shades--than the other, I got up, and the thing\nmelted away; and I went off, and in the excitement of the hour forgot\nall about it--nearly, but not quite, for the thing would once in a\nwhile come up and give me a little pang, as if something uncomfortable\nhad happened. When I went home again that night, I told my wife about\nit, and a few days afterward I made the experiment again, when (with\na laugh), sure enough! the thing came again; but I never succeeded\nin bringing the ghost back after that, though I once tried very\nindustriously to show it to my wife, who was somewhat worried about it.\nShe thought it was a \u2018sign\u2019 that I was to be elected to a second term\nof office, and that the paleness of one of the faces was an omen that I\nshould not see life through the last term.\u201d\n\nThese are by no means isolated cases. It is said that General Hancock,\nwho had faced the King of Terrors on too many battle-fields to fear\nhim, was pursued by a presentiment of this sort, only too soon to\nbe fully verified. While present as an honored guest at a dinner,\nsurrounded by his old comrades in arms, the general remarked to a\nfriend that he had come there with a premonition that it would be his\nlast visit, and that he had but a short time longer to live. In fact,\nhis lamented death occurred within a short time after.\n\nInstances of fatal presentiments before going into battle are familiar\nto every veteran of our great Civil War. I have heard many of them\nfeelingly rehearsed by eye-witnesses. The same thing has occurred,\nunder precisely similar conditions, during the late war with Spain. But\nhere is a tale of that earlier conflict, as published broadcast to the\nworld, without question or qualification:--\n\n\u201cIn a research for facts bearing upon psychology, Mrs. Bancroft (a\ndaughter-in-law of the historian) has brought to light a strange\nstory relating to either the record of odd \u2018spirit communications\u2019 or\ncoincidences. On July 2, 1863, the wives of Major Thomas Y. Brent\nand Captain Eugene Barnes, two Confederate officers, were together\nat a wedding in Fayette County, each wearing her bridal dress. While\ndressing for the occasion Mrs. Brent\u2019s companion discovered a blood\nspot upon the dress of the major\u2019s wife, which could not be accounted\nfor, and somewhat excitedly exclaimed, \u2018It is a bad omen!\u2019 Two days\nafter Mrs. Brent experienced a severe pain in the region of her\nheart, although at the time in the best of health. This occurred at\nthe birthplace of her husband. Two days later she heard that, while\nstorming a Federal fortification, her husband was killed on July 4,\n1863, as far as she could learn, at the identical time that she had\nexperienced the heart pain. The major was shot in the breast by a Mini\u00e9\nball and instantly killed.\u201d\n\nThere lies before me, as I write, the authoritative statement of an\narmy officer, a survivor of the terrible charge up San Juan Hill,\nbefore Santiago de Cuba, to the effect that just before advancing to\nthe charge a brother officer had confided to him a conviction that\nthe speaker would be killed, entreating his friend to receive his last\nmessages for his relatives. In this case, too, the fatal premonition\nwas fully verified. The doomed man was shot while bravely storming the\nSpanish stronghold.\n\nStill another story of this war has been widely published, so lately as\nthis chapter was begun. It has reference to the death of the bandmaster\nof the United States ship _Lancaster_, then cruising in the South\nAtlantic. Upon learning that the _Lancaster_ was to touch at Rio de\nJaneiro the bandmaster requested his discharge, giving as his reason\nthat he had for years been under the presentiment that if he went to\nthat port he would die of yellow fever. A discharge was refused him.\nThe ship entered the harbor of Rio, and the bandmaster immediately took\nto his bed with all the symptoms of yellow fever. The identity of the\nmalady soon established itself. He was taken to the plague hospital\non shore and there died. One of the bandsmen who kissed him as he was\nbeing removed from the ship also died. The account goes on to say that\n\u201cthese two are the only cases reported at Rio for months. The fever\nhas not spread, and no man besides the unfortunate bandsman caught the\nfever, the health of the ship\u2019s crew remaining excellent.\u201d\n\nThe number of persons who have testified to having seen the apparitions\nor death wraiths of dying or deceased friends is already large, as\nthe records of various societies for psychical research bear witness.\nThese phenomena are not in their nature forewarnings of something that\nis about to happen, but announcements of something that already has\nhappened. They therefore can have no relation to what was formerly\nknown as \u201csecond sight.\u201d\n\nIn spite of all that our much-boasted civilization has done in the way\nof freeing poor, fallible man from the thraldom of superstition, there\nis indubitable evidence that a great many people still put faith in\ndirect revelations from the land of spirits. In the course of a quiet\nchat one evening, where the subject was under discussion, one of the\ncompany who had listened attentively, though silently all the while,\nto all manner of theories, spiced with ridicule, abruptly asked how we\nwould account for the following incident which he went on to relate,\nand I have here set down word for word:--\n\n\u201cMy grandparents,\u201d he began, \u201chad a son whom they thought all the world\nof. From all accounts I guess Tom was about one of the likeliest young\nfellows that could be scared up in a day\u2019s journey. Everybody said Tom\nwas bound to make his mark in the world, and at the time I speak of he\nseemed in a fair way of doing it, too, for at one and twenty he was\nfirst mate of the old _Argonaut_ which had just sailed for Calcutta.\nThis would make her tenth voyage. Well, as I am telling you, the very\nday after the _Argonaut_ went to sea, a tremendous gale set in from the\neastward. It blew great guns. Actually, now, it seemed as if that gale\nwould never stop blowing.\n\n\u201cAs day after day went by, and the storm raged on without intermission,\nyou may judge if the hearts of those who had friends at sea in that\nship did not sink down and down with the passing hours. Of course, the\nold folks could think of nothing else.\n\n\u201cLet me see; it was a good bit ago. Ah, yes; it was on the third or\nfourth night of the gale, I don\u2019t rightly remember which, and it don\u2019t\nmatter much, that grandfather and grandmother were sitting together,\nas usual, in the old family sitting-room, he poring over the family\nBible as he was wont to do in such cases, she knitting and rocking,\nor pretending to knit, but both full of the one ever present thought,\nwhich each was trying so hard to hide from the other.\n\n\u201cDismally splashed the raindrops against the window-panes, mournfully\nthe wind whined in the chimney-top, while every now and then the fire\nwould spit and sputter angrily on the hearth, or flare up fitfully when\nsome big gust came roaring down the chimney to fan the embers into a\nfiercer flame. Then there would be a lull, during which, like an echo\nof the tempest, the dull and distant booming of the sea was borne to\nthe affrighted listener\u2019s ears. But nothing I could say would begin to\ngive you an idea of the great gale of 1817.\n\n\u201cWell, the old folks sat there as stiff as two statues, listening to\nevery sound. When a big gust tore over the house and shook it till it\nrocked again, gran\u2019ther would steal a look at grandmother over his\nspecs, but say never a word. The old lady would give a start, let her\nhands fall idly upon her lap, sit for a moment as if dazed, and then go\non with her knitting again as if her very life depended on it.\n\n\u201cUnable at length to control her feelings, grandmother got up out of\nher chair, with her work in her hand, went to the window, put aside the\ncurtain, and looked out. I say looked out, for of course all was so\npitch-dark outside that nothing could be seen, yet there she stood with\nher white face pressed close to the wet panes, peering out into the\nnight, as if questioning the storm itself of the absent one.\n\n\u201cAll at once she drew back from the window with a low cry, saying in a\nbroken voice: \u2018My God, father, it\u2019s Tom in his coffin! They\u2019re bringing\nhim up here, to the house.\u2019 Then she covered her face with her hands,\nto shut out the horrid sight.\n\n\u201c\u2018Set down \u2019Mandy!\u2019 sternly commanded the startled old man. \u2018Don\u2019t be\nmaking a fool of yourself. Don\u2019t ye know tain\u2019t no sech a thing what\nyou\u2019re sayin\u2019? Set down, I say, this minnit!\u2019\n\n\u201cBut no one could ever convince grandmother that she had not actually\nseen, with her own eyes, her dear boy Tom, the idol of her heart, lying\ncold in death. To her indeed it was a revelation from the tomb, for the\nship in which Tom had sailed was never heard from.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nXII\n\nTHE DIVINING-ROD\n\n    \u201cOne point must still be greatly dark,\n    The reason why they do it.\u201d\n\n\nIt is a matter of common knowledge that certain expert \u201cfinders,\u201d as\nthey are called, use a divining-rod for detecting underground springs\nin New England; in Pennsylvania for the locating of oil springs; and in\nthe mineral regions of the Rockies for the discovery of hidden veins\nof valuable ores. The Cornish miners, also, have long made use of the\ndivining-rod, or \u201cdowsing-rod,\u201d as they call it, for a like purpose. A\nfurther research, probably, might reveal a similar practice in other\ncountries; but for our purpose it is enough to present two of the most\nintelligent in the world as giving it their sanction and support.\n\nVarious implements are employed by the expert operator in his quest\nfor what lies hidden from mortal eyes; but the preferred agent is\nusually a bough of witch-hazel, branching at one end like the tines\nof a pitchfork.[24] Taking firm hold of each prong, with the palms of\nthe hands turned upward, the operator slowly walks around the locality\nwhere it is desired to find water; and when he reaches the right spot,\n_presto!_ the free end of the bough is bent downward toward the ground\nas if by some invisible force, sometimes so strongly that the operator\nis unable to overcome it by putting forth his whole strength. \u201cDig\nhere,\u201d he says, with positive assurance that water will be found not\nfar below the surface of the ground.\n\nOn the face of it, this performance comes rather nearer to our idea of\na miracle than anything we can now call to mind. Certainly, Moses did\nno more when he smote the rock of Scripture. Very possibly, former\ngenerations of men may have associated the act with the operation of\nsorcery or magic. An enlightened age, however, accepts neither of these\ntheories. We do not believe in miracles other than those recorded in\nScripture; and we have renounced magic and sorcery as too antiquated\nfor intelligent people to consider. Yet things are done every day\nwhich would have passed for miracles with our forefathers, without\nour knowing more than the bare fact that, by means of certain crude\nagents, obtained from the earth itself, messages are sent from New York\nto London under the Atlantic Ocean in a few minutes; that the most\nremote parts of the habitable globe have been brought into practically\ninstantaneous communication, the one with the other; and that public\nand private conveyances are moving about our thoroughfares without the\nuse of horses or steam. All these things looked to us like miracles,\nat first, yet custom has brought us to regard them with no more wonder\nthan did the lighting of the first gas lamp the pedestrian of forty\nodd years ago. Much as we know, there is probably yet much more that we\ndo not know.\n\nThe methods employed in finding oil springs or \u201cleads\u201d of ore are very\nsimilar to those made use of in discovering water. It is a fact that\nsome of the most productive wells in the oil regions were located in\nthis manner. It is a further fact, that from time to time, search for\nburied treasure has been carried on in precisely the same way. Now some\nastute critics have said that the divining-rod was a humbug, because\nwhen they have tried it the mystic bough would not bend for them. It\nis, however, doubtful if any humbug could have stood the test of so\nmany years without exposure, or what so many witnesses stand ready to\naffirm the truth of be cavalierly thrust aside as a palpable imposture.\n\nAlthough I have never seen the operator at work, myself, I have often\ntalked with those who have, whose testimony was both direct and\nexplicit. Moreover, I do know of persons who continue to ply this\ntrade (for no more than this is claimed for it) in some parts of New\nEngland to-day. Whether it should be classed among superstitions may be\nan open question after all.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nXIII\n\nWONDERS OF THE PHYSICAL UNIVERSE\n\n    \u201cThe hag is astride\n    This night for a ride--\n    The devil and she together.\u201d--_Herrick._\n\n\nAll abnormal exhibitions of nature, or in fact any departure from the\nregular order of things, such as great and unusual storms, earthquakes,\neclipses of the sun or moon, the appearance of a comet in the heavens,\nor of a plague of flies, caterpillars, or locusts were once held to\nbe so many infallible signs of impending calamity. All of our early\nhistorians give full and entire credit to the evil import of these\nstartling phenomena, which were invariably referred to the wrath of an\noffended deity, only to be appeased by a special season of fasting and\nprayer. Of course ample warrant exists for such belief in the Bible,\nwhich was something no man dared question or gainsay in those primitive\ndays. For example, in his history of Philip\u2019s War, Increase Mather lays\ndown this, to our age, startling proposition. \u201cIt is,\u201d says the learned\ndivine, \u201ca common observation, verified by the experience of many ages,\nthat _great and publick calamityes seldome come upon any place without\nprodigious warnings to forerun and signify what is to be expected_.\u201d He\nhad just noted the appearance \u201cin the aire,\u201d at Plymouth, of something\nshaped in the perfect form of an Indian bow, which some of the\nterror-stricken people looked upon as a \u201cprodigious apparition.\u201d The\nlearned divine cleverly interpreted it as a favorable omen, however,\nportending that the Lord would presently \u201cbreak the bow and spear\nasunder,\u201d thus calming their fears.\n\nThis extract taken at random, fairly establishes the survival\nof certain forms of superstition in the second generation of\ncolonists. The first, as has been said already, brought all of its\nold superstitions with it. In short, every form of belief in the\nsupernatural, for which the fathers of New England have been so roundly\nabused or ridiculed, may be distinctly traced back to the old country.\n\nVery much of the belief in the baleful influence of so-called\nprodigies, with the possible exception of that ascribed to comets, or\n\u201cblazing stars,\u201d as they were called, has fortunately subsided in a\nmeasure, for we shudder to think of a state of things so thoroughly\ncalculated to keep society continually on the rack. But in those\nearlier times life and death had about equal terrors. Sin and sinners\nwere punished both here and hereafter; and, really, if we may credit\nsuch writers as the Rev. William Hubbard and the Mather family, poor\nNew England was quite ripe, in their time, for the fate of Sodom and\nGomorrah.\n\nAs regards comets, we risk little in saying that a great many very\nsensible people still view their periodical appearance with fear and\ntrembling, and their departure with a feeling of unfeigned relief. It\nis our unwilling tribute to the unfathomable and the unknown. And,\ndisguise it as we may, we breathe more freely when the dread visitant\nhas faded from our sight. In the language of Macbeth after seeing\nBanquo\u2019s ghost,--\n\n    \u201cWhy, so: being gone, I am a man again.\u201d\n\nIn truth, we know comets as yet only as the accredited agents of\ndestruction. It seems a natural question to ask, If order is nature\u2019s\nfirst law, why are all these departures from it? Can they be without\nfixed end, aim, or purpose? Why should the solid earth quake, the sea\noverwhelm the land, mountains vomit forth flames, the tempest scatter\ndeath and destruction abroad, the heavens suspend a winged and flaming\nmonster over us,--\n\n    \u201cSo horribly to shake our disposition,\n    With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls\u201d?\n\nThere was still another form of belief, differing from the first\nin ascribing supernatural functions to great natural phenomena. In\nthis sense, the storm did not descend in the majesty of its mighty\nwrath to punish man\u2019s wickedness, but, like the roar of artillery\nwhich announces the death of the monarch to his mourning people, was\ncoincident, in its coming, with the death of some great personage,\nwhich it proclaimed with salvos of Olympus. Indeed, poets and\nphilosophers of keen insight have frequently recognized this sort of\ncurious sympathy in nature with most momentous movements in human\nlife. We are told that the dying hours of Cromwell and Napoleon were\nsignalized by storms of terrific violence, and Shakespeare describes\nthe earth and air as filled with omens before the murders of Julius\nC\u00e6sar and of King Duncan.\n\n\u201cAs busy as the devil in a gale of wind,\u201d emphasizes by a robust,\nsea-seasoned saying the notion current among sailors of how storms\narise.\n\nIt was just now said that the belief in direct manifestations of the\ndivine wrath, through the medium of such calamitous visitations as\ngreat droughts, earthquakes, eclipses, tidal waves, fatal epidemics,\nand the like, had, in a measure, subsided. The statement should be\nmade, however, with certain qualification; for it is well remembered\nthat during a season of unexampled drought, in the far West, the people\nwere called together in their churches, and on a week-day, too, to pray\nfor rain, just as we are told that the Pilgrim Fathers did, on a like\noccasion, two hundred and fifty odd years before. Prayers were kept up\nwithout intermission during the day. And it is a further coincidence\nthat copious showers did set in within twenty-four hours or so. Even\nthe most sceptical took refuge in silence.\n\nFrom many different sources we have very detailed accounts of the\nremarkable dark day of May 19, 1780, with the great fear that\nphenomenon inspired in those who witnessed it, the general belief\nbeing that the Day of Judgment was at hand.[25] In the presence of\nthis overshadowing terror, few retained their usual presence of mind\nunshaken. One such instance is worth repeating here, if only for its\nrarity. At that time the Connecticut legislature was in session.\nThe House of Representatives immediately adjourned. A like motion\nwas before the Council. The protest of Colonel Davenport has become\nhistorical. Said he, \u201cThe Day of Judgment is either approaching or\nit is not. If it is, I choose to be found doing my duty. I wish,\ntherefore, that candles may be lighted.\u201d\n\nNearly fifty years later (September, 1825), a similar visitation, due\nto extensive forest fires in New Brunswick, again created widespread\nalarm, hardly quieted by the later knowledge of the atmospheric\nconditions (an under stratum of fog and an upper stratum of smoke)\nthat were so plainly responsible for it. On the contrary, from what\nwe have been able to gather on the subject, it appears that where the\nphenomenon was visible, people were quite as ill at ease as their\nfathers were.\n\nOnce again, under almost identical conditions, the same phenomenon\nwrought exactly the same chaos in the minds of a very large number of\npeople in New England and New York. This has passed into history as\nthe Yellow Tuesday (September 6, 1881). On this occasion the brooding\ndarkness lasted all day. It was noticed that a fire built in the open\nair burned with a spectral blue flame. Blue flowers were changed to a\ncrimson hue. By two in the afternoon one could not see to read without\na light. At a certain hotel in the White Mountains some of the servants\nwere so frightened that they refused to go to work, and fell to praying\ninstead.\n\nThese examples at least afford data for a comparison of some little\ninterest, as to how any wide departure from nature\u2019s fixed laws has\naffected the human mind at widely separated periods of time, all the\ntheories or demonstrations of science to the contrary notwithstanding.\n\nSo much for the effects of what is a reality to be seen and felt by\nall men. But now and again the mere haphazard predictions of some\nself-constituted prophet of evil, if plausibly presented and steadily\ninsisted upon, find a multitude of credulous believers among us. It\nis only a few years since a certain religious sect, notwithstanding\nrepeated failures in the past, with much consequent ridicule, again\nventured to fix a day for the second coming of Our Lord. Similarly\nit falls within the recollection of most of us how a certain\nself-constituted Canadian seer solemnly predicted the coming of a\nmonster tidal wave, which in its disastrous effects was to be another\nDeluge. All the great Atlantic seaboard was to be buried in the rush of\nmighty waters; all its great maritime cities swept away in a moment.\nFresher still in the recollection is the prediction that the end of\nthe world would surely come as the inevitable result of the shower of\nmeteors of November, 1899.\n\nIt is a fact that many good and worthy but, alas! too credulous\npeople living along the New England coast, who believed themselves in\ndanger from the destroying tidal wave, were thrown into a state of\nunspeakable agitation and alarm by this wicked prediction. Yet there\nwas absolutely nothing to warrant it except the unsupported declaration\nof this one man, whom no one knew, and few had ever heard of. Yet some\nreally believed, more half believed, and some who openly ridiculed the\nprediction apparently did so more to keep their courage up than from\nactual unbelief. So easy it is to arouse the fears of a community, who\nusually act first and reason afterward. I heard of one man who actually\npacked all his household goods in a wagon, so as to be ready to start\noff for higher ground upon the first signal of the approach of this\nmuch-dreaded rush of waters.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nXIV\n\n\u201cSHIPS THAT PASS IN THE NIGHT\u201d\n\n\n\u201c_Songe est toujours mensonge_,\u201d says a French proverb; \u201cDreams go\nby contraries\u201d says the English proverb,--that is, if you dream of\nthe dead you will hear from the living. Who shall decide, where the\ncollective wisdom of centuries is at such wide variance?\n\nTo put faith in the supposed revelations of a disordered or overheated\nbrain seems, on the face of it, sheer absurdity, especially when we\nourselves may induce dreaming merely by overindulgence in eating or\ndrinking. Yet there are people who habitually dream when the brain is\nin its normal condition. This brings the question down to its simplest\nform, \u201cWhat is a dream?\u201d And there we halt.\n\nThat there is no end of theories concerning the measure of credit that\nshould be given to dreams is readily accounted for. What nobody can\nexplain every one is at liberty to have his own peculiar notions of.\nPerhaps the most curious thing about it is the proven fact that so many\ndifferent people should dream precisely the same thing from time to\ntime; so making it possible not only to classify and analyze dreams,\nbut even to lay down certain interpretations, to be accepted by a\nmultitude of believers. Of course it is easy to laugh at the incoherent\nfancies that flit through the debatable region we inhabit while asleep,\nbut it is not so easy to explain why we laugh, or why we should dream\nof persons or events long since passed from our memories, or of other\npersons or events wholly unknown to us, either in the past or the\npresent.\n\nWithout a doubt people dream just as much nowadays as they ever did.\nThat fact being admitted, the problem for us to consider is, whether\nthe belief in the prophetic character of dreams, held by so many\npeoples for so many centuries, having the unequivocal sanction, too,\nof Scripture authority, is really dying out, or continues to hold\nits old dominion over the minds of poor, fallible mankind. In order\nto determine this vexed question inquiry was made of several leading\nbooksellers with the following result: Thirty or forty years ago dream\nbooks were as much a recognized feature of the book-selling trade as\nany other sort of literary property; consequently, they were openly\nexposed for sale in every bookstore, large or small. It now appears\nthat these yellow-covered oracles of fate are still in good demand,\nmostly by servant girls and factory girls, and, though seldom found\nin the best bookstores, may be readily had of most dealers in cheap\nperiodicals. This, certainly, would seem to be a gain in the direction\nof education, though not of the masses. It also appears that, as in the\nmatter of \u201csigns,\u201d the female sex is more susceptible to this sort of\nsuperstition than is the male; but that by no means proves the sterner\nsex to be wholly free from it.\n\nSome persons dream a great deal, others but seldom. Let one who is not\nmuch addicted to the habit have a bad dream, a frightful dream, and\nbe he never so well poised, the phantasm can hardly fail of leaving a\ndisquieting, perhaps a lasting, effect. Seldom, indeed, can that person\nshake off the feeling that the dream forbodes something of a sinister\nnature. In vain he racks his brain for some interpretation that may set\nhis mind at rest, wholly forgetful of the trite adage that dreams go by\ncontraries.\n\nSo often, indeed, do we hear the pregnant declaration, to wit: \u201cYour\nold men shall dream dreams, your young men see visions,\u201d that we have\nadopted it as a striking rhetorical figure of wide application. In\nHamlet\u2019s celebrated soliloquy upon the immortality of the soul, the\nmelancholy Dane confesses to an overmastering fear of bad dreams. And\nonce again, as if wrung from the very anguish of his sinful heart,\nGloster cries out: \u201cOh, Catesby, I have had such horrid dreams!\u201d And\nCatesby expostulates, \u201cShadows, my lord, below the soldiers seeming.\u201d\nBut Gloster thrusts aside the rebuke as he impetuously exclaims: \u201cNow\nby my this day\u2019s hopes, shadows to-night have struck more terror to the\nsoul of Richard, than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers arm\u2019d\nall in proof.\u201d\n\nWe find that our own immediate ancestors were fully as credulous in\nregard to the importance of dreams, as affecting their lives and\nfortunes, as the ancients appear to have been. But with them it is\ntrue that Scripture warrant was accepted as all-sufficient. Just a few\nexamples will suffice.\n\nIn the time of its disintegration, owing to the removal of some of\nits members to Connecticut, the church of Dorchester, Massachusetts,\n\u201cdid not reorganize on account of certain dreams and visions among the\ncongregation.\u201d\n\nUnder a certain date, Samuel Sewall sets down the fact that he has had\ndisturbing dreams, which he, according to his wont, anxiously strives\nto interpret--he, of all men!--a magistrate, a councillor, and a ruler\nin the land. One dream was to the effect \u201cthat all my [his] children\nwere dead except Sarah, which did distress me sorely with reflections\non my omissions of duty towards them as well as breaking of the hopes I\nhad of them.\u201d\n\nShifting now the scene to half a century later, we find in the \u201cDiary\nand Letters of Sarah Pierpont,\u201d wife of the celebrated theologian,\nJonathan Edwards, this letter, describing a singularly prophetic dream\nrelative to her grandson, then an infant, Aaron Burr:--\n\n        \u201cSTOCKBRIDGE, May 10, 1756.\n\n    \u201cDEAR BROTHER JAMES: Your letters always do us good, and your\n    last was one of your best. Have you heard of the birth of\n    Esther\u2019s second child, at Newark? It was born the sixth of\n    February last, and its parents have named him Aaron Burr, Jr.,\n    after his father, the worthy President of the College. I trust\n    the little immortal will grow up to be a good and useful man.\n    But, somehow, a strange presentiment of evil has hung over my\n    mind of late, and I can hardly rid myself of the impression\n    that that child was born to see trouble.\n\n    \u201cYou know I don\u2019t believe in dreams and visions; but lately I\n    had a sad night of broken sleep, in which the future career\n    of that boy seemed to pass before me. He first appeared as\n    a little child, just beginning to ascend a high hill. Not\n    long after he set out, the two guides who started with him\n    disappeared one after the other. He went on alone, and as the\n    road was open and plain, and as friends met him at every turn,\n    he got along very well. At times he took on the air and bearing\n    of a soldier, and then of a statesman, assuming to lead and\n    control others. As he neared the top of the hill, the way grew\n    more steep and difficult, and his companions became alienated\n    from him, refusing to help him or be led by him. Baffled in\n    his designs, and angered at his ill-success, he began to lay\n    about him with violence, leading some astray, and pulling down\n    others at every attempt to rise. Soon he himself began to\n    slip and slide down the rough and perilous sides of the hill;\n    now regaining his foothold for a little, then losing it again,\n    until at length he stumbled and fell headlong down, down, into\n    a black and yawning gulf at the base!\n\n    \u201cAt this, I woke in distress, and was glad enough to find it\n    was only a dream. Now, you may make as much or as little of\n    this as you please. I think the disturbed state of our country,\n    along with my own indifferent health, must have occasioned it.\n    A letter from his mother, to-day, assures me that her little\n    Aaron is a lively, prattlesome fellow, filling his parents\u2019\n    hearts with joy.\n\n        \u201cYour loving sister,\n          \u201cSARAH.\u201d\n\nThough \u201conly a dream,\u201d this vision of the night prefigured a sad\nreality, for within two years both of the \u201cguides\u201d had gone, President\nBurr in September, 1757, his wife in the same month of the next year,\n1758.\n\nPassing now down to our own day, the Rev. Walter Colton, sometime\nalcalde of Monterey, tells us, in his reminiscences of the gold\nexcitement of 1849, that he dreamed of finding gold at a certain spot,\nhad faith enough in his dream to seek for it in that place, and was\nrewarded by finding it there.\n\nA mass of similar testimony might be adduced. One piece coming from a\nbrave soldier, who will not be accused of harboring womanish fears,\nwill bear repeating here. We again quote from that most interesting\nvolume, \u201cForty-one Years in India.\u201d Lord Roberts, its author, is\nspeaking of his father, then a man close upon seventy.\n\n\u201cShortly before his departure an incident occurred which I will relate\nfor the benefit of psychological students; they may perhaps be able\nto explain it, I never could. My father had some time before issued\ninvitations for a dance which was to take place in two days\u2019 time,--on\nMonday, the 17th October, 1853. On the Saturday morning he appeared\ndisturbed and unhappy, and during breakfast was despondent--very\ndifferent from his usual bright and cheery self. On my questioning him\nas to the cause, he told me he had had an unpleasant dream--one which\nhe had dreamt several times before, and which had always been followed\nby the death of a near relation. As the day advanced, in spite of my\nefforts to cheer him, he became more and more depressed, and even\nsaid he should like to put off the dance. I dissuaded him from taking\nthis step for the time being; but that night he had the same dream\nagain, and the next morning he insisted on the dance being postponed.\nIt seemed rather absurd to disappoint our friends on account of a\ndream; there was, however, nothing for it but to carry out my father\u2019s\nwishes, and intimation was accordingly sent to the invited guests.\nThe following morning the post brought news of the sudden death of a\nhalf-sister at Lahore, with whom I had stayed on my way to Pashawar.\u201d\n\nA man is now living who ran away from the vessel in which he had\nshipped as a sailor before the mast, in consequence of dreaming for\nthree nights in succession that the vessel would be lost. All the\ncircumstances were related to me, with much minuteness of detail, by\npersons quite familiar with them at the time of their occurrence. The\nvessel was, in fact, cast away, and every one on board drowned, on the\nvery night after she sailed; consequently the warning dream, by means\nof which the deserter\u2019s life was saved, could hardly fail of leaving a\ndeep and lasting impression upon the minds of all who knew the facts.\nThe story has been told more at length elsewhere by the writer,[26]\nas it came from the lips of a seafaring friend; and the hero of it is\nstill pointed out to sceptics as a living example of the fact that--\n\n    \u201cComing events cast their shadows before.\u201d\n\nRichard Mansfield, distinguished actor and playwright, has recently\nrelated in an interview a most interesting incident in his own career,\nwhich he declared himself wholly unable to account for. So much more\ncredit attaches to the testimony of persons if known to the public\neven by name, that Mr. Mansfield\u2019s experience has special value here.\nIt is also a highly interesting fragment of autobiography.\n\nMr. Mansfield goes on to say that after leading a most precarious\nexistence, in various ways, his discharge from Mr. D\u2019Oyley Carte\u2019s\ncompany brought on a crisis in his affairs. Reaching his poor lodgings\nin London, he soon fell into desperate straits, being soon forced to\npawn what little he had for the means to keep body and soul together.\nHe declares that he did not know which way to turn, and that the most\ngloomy forebodings overwhelmed him. We will now let him tell his own\nstory in his own way:--\n\n\u201cThis was the condition of affairs when the strange happening to which\nI have referred befell me. Retiring for the night in a perfectly\nhopeless frame of mind, I fell into a troubled sleep and dreamed\ndreams. Finally, toward morning, this apparent fantasy came to me. I\nseemed in my disturbed sleep to hear a cab drive up to the door as if\nin a great hurry. There was a knock, and in my dream I opened the door\nand found D\u2019Oyley Carte\u2019s yellow-haired secretary standing outside. He\nexclaimed:--\n\n\u201c\u2018Can you pack up and catch the train in ten minutes to rejoin the\ncompany?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018I can,\u2019 was the dreamland reply; there seemed to be a rushing about\nwhile I swept a few things into my bag; then the cab door was slammed,\nand we were off to the station.\n\n\u201cThis was all a dream,\u201d continued Mr. Mansfield; \u201cbut here is the\ninexplicable denouement. The dream was so vivid and startling that I\nimmediately awoke with a strange, uncanny sensation, and sprang to my\nfeet. It was six o\u2019clock, and only bare and gloomy surroundings met\nmy eye. On a chair rested my travelling bag, and through some impulse\nwhich I could not explain at the time and cannot account for now I\npicked it up and hurriedly swept into it the few articles that had\nescaped the pawnshop. It did not take me long to complete my toilet,\nand then I sat down to think.\n\n\u201cPresently, when I had reached the extreme point of dejection, a cab\nrattled up, there was a knock, and I opened the door. There stood\nD\u2019Oyley Carte\u2019s secretary, just as I saw him in my dreams. He seemed to\nbe in a great flurry, and cried out:--\n\n\u201c\u2018Can you pack up and reach the station in ten minutes to rejoin the\ncompany?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018I can,\u2019 said I, calmly, pointing to my bag. \u2018It is all ready, for I\nwas expecting you.\u2019\n\n\u201cThe man was a little startled by this seemingly strange remark, but\nbundled me into the cab without further ado, and we hurried away to\nthe station exactly in accord with my dream. That was the beginning\nof a long engagement, and, although I have known hard times since, it\nwas the turning-point in my career. I have already said that I have\nno theories whatever in regard to the matter. I do not account for\nit. It is enough for me to know that I dreamed certain things which\nwere presently realized in the exact order of the dream. Having no\nsuperstitions, it is impossible to philosophize over the occurrence.\nAll I know is that everything happened just as I have stated it.\u201d\n\nSome of the hidden meanings attributed to dreams are elsewhere referred\nto. As the subject has a literature of its own, we need mention only a\nfew of the more commonly accepted interpretations. Their name is legion.\n\nTo dream of a white horse is a certain presage of a death in the family.\n\nTo dream of a funeral is a sign that you will soon attend a wedding.\n\nTo dream of losing one\u2019s teeth is ominous of some coming sorrow.\n\nTo dream of a snake is a token that you have an enemy.\n\nTouching a dead body will prevent dreaming of it.\n\nThe same dream, occurring three nights in succession, will surely come\nto pass.\n\nA slice of wedding-cake put under the pillow will cause an unmarried\nwoman to dream of her future husband.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nXV\n\nFORTUNE-TELLING, ASTROLOGY, AND PALMISTRY\n\n    \u201cI asked her of the way, which she informed me;\n    Then craved my charity, and bade me hasten\n    To save a sister.\u201d--_Otway._\n\n\nOne noticeable thing about certain forms of superstition is their\ngeneral acceptance by the public at large, like certain moral evils,\nwhich it is felt to be an almost hopeless task to do away with. Other\ngood, easy souls choose to ignore the presence of fortune-tellers,\nastrologers, palmists among their daily haunts. As a matter of fact,\nhowever, fortune-telling, astrology, and palmistry have become so fully\nincorporated with the everyday life of all large communities as to\nexcite very little comment from the common run of us.\n\nIt certainly would astonish some people if they knew to what an\nextent these methods of hoodwinking the credulous, or weak-minded,\ncontinue to flourish in our large cities, without the least attempt\nat concealment or disguise. One need only look about him to see the\nsigns of these shrewd charlatans everywhere staring him in the face, or\nrun his eye over the columns of the daily papers to be convinced how\nfar superstition still lives and thrives in the chosen strongholds of\nmodern thought and modern scepticism. At fairs and social gatherings\nfortune-telling and palmistry have come to be recognized features,\neither as a means of raising funds for some highly deserving object,\nof course, or for the sake of the amusement they afford, at the\nexpense of those well-meaning souls who do not know how to say no. To\nbe sure, it has come to be thoroughly understood that no benevolent\nobject whatsoever has a chance of succeeding nowadays without some sort\nof nickel-in-the-slot attachment, by which the delusion of getting\nsomething for your money is so clumsily kept up.\n\nAt fairs, for instance, it is not necessary that the oracle of\nfortune should speak. Time is saved and modern progress illustrated\nand enforced by having printed cards ready at hand to be impartially\ndistributed to all applicants on the principle of first come, first\nserved. As the victim receives his card, he laughs nervously, fidgets\naround a few minutes, goes aside into some quiet corner and furtively\nreads, \u201cFortune will be more favorable to you in future than it has\nbeen.\u201d\n\nUnwittingly, perhaps, yet none the less, has he paid his tribute to\nsuperstition, thus thriftily turned to account.\n\nThe penny-in-the-slot machines, so often seen in public places, tell\nfortunes with mechanical precision, and in the main, impartially,\nevident care being taken not to render the oracle unpopular by giving\nout disagreeable or alarming predictions. True, they are just a\ntrifle ambiguous, but does not that feature exactly correspond with\nthe traditional idea of the ancient oracle, which was nothing if not\nambiguous? Here is a sample, \u201cYou will not become very rich, but be\nassured you will never want for anything.\u201d\n\nFortune-telling also is openly carried on at all popular summer\nresorts, with considerable profit to the dealer in prophecies, who\nis generally an Indian woman. She is much consulted by young women,\n\u201cjust for the fun of the thing.\u201d Roving bands of gypsies continue to\ndo a more or less thriving business in the country towns. Character is\nunfolded or the future foretold by the color of the eyes, the length or\nbreadth of the finger nails or of the eyebrows.\n\nTelling fortunes by means of tea grounds is often practised at social\ngatherings.\n\n    \u201cFor still, by some invisible tether\n    Scandal and tea are linked together.\u201d\n\nIt is done in this way: When drinking off the tea, the grounds are made\nto adhere to the sides of the tea-cup, by swiftly twirling it round and\nround. The cup is then inverted, turned thrice and no more, after which\nthe spell is completed, and the mistress of the revels proceeds to tell\nthe fortunes of those present, with neatness and despatch.\n\nTime has worked certain marked changes in the method of practising\nthis equivocal trade. The modern fortune-teller no longer inhabits a\ngrewsome cavern, reached by a winding path among overhanging rocks,\nand choked with dank weeds, or goes about muttering to herself in an\nunknown tongue, or is clothed in rags. Far from it. She either occupies\nluxurious apartments in the best business section, or in a genteel\nup-town hotel, or dwells in a fashionable quarter of the town, and\ndresses _\u00e0 la mode_. Nor are her clients by any means exclusively drawn\nfrom among the lowly and ignorant, as might be supposed, but more\noften come from the middle class of society; and, though consultations\nare had in a private manner, those who ply this trade do so without\nfear or disguise.\n\nOf the thousand and one matters submitted to the dictum of\nfortune-tellers, those relating to love affairs or money matters are\nby much the most numerous. On this head just a few selections, taken\nat hazard from the advertising columns of a morning newspaper, perhaps\nwill afford the best idea of the nature of the questions most commonly\naddressed to these disposers and dispensers of fate. One reads, \u201cMrs\nBlank: consult her on all business, domestic or love affairs. Unites\nseparated parties.\u201d A shrewd offer that! The next, who styles himself\n\u201cDoctor\u201d is an astrologer. He invites you to send him your sex, with\ndate and hour of birth; or a full description. All matters, he na\u00efvely\ndeclares, are alike to him. For the trifling matter of one dollar he\npromises \u201ca full reading\u201d--presumably of your horoscope. The next, a\ntrance and business medium, professes to be able to tell the \u201cname of\nfuture husband or wife, and all affairs of life.\u201d Still another, after\nsetting forth her own abilities in glowing colors, warns a trusting\npublic, after the manner of all quacks, to beware of imitators.\n\nAs an indication to what extent these forms of superstition flourish,\nit would be vastly interesting to know just how many persons there\nare in the United States, for instance, who get their living by such\nmeans. Enough, perhaps, has been said to open the eyes of even the\nmost sceptical on this point. We may add that the modern applicant for\nforeknowledge is not satisfied with the obscure generalizations of the\nancient oracles. He or she demands a full and explicit answer, and will\nbe satisfied with nothing less.\n\nMoll Pitcher, of Lynn, who practised her art in the early part of the\ncentury, was the most famous, as she was by far the most successful,\nfortune-teller of her day. In fact, her reputation was world-wide, it\nhaving been carried to every port and clime by the masters and sailors,\nwho never failed to consult her about the luck of the voyage. Her\nsupposed knowledge of the future was also much drawn upon by the highly\nrespectable owners themselves, who, however, possibly through deference\nto some secret qualms, generally made their visits at night, sometimes\nin disguise.[27] Indeed, stories little short of marvellous are told\nof this cunning woman\u2019s skill at divination, or luck at guessing,\naccording as one may choose to look at the matter. Besides being the\nsubject of the poet Whittier\u2019s least-known verses, a long forgotten\nplay was written with Moll Pitcher as its heroine, after the manner of\nMeg Merrilies, in Sir Walter Scott\u2019s \u201cGuy Mannering.\u201d\n\nFrom the earliest to the latest times, the astrologers have always\nclaimed for their methods of divination the consideration due to\nestablished principles or incontrovertible facts. The court astrologer\nwas once quite as much consulted as the court physician. Though fallen\nfrom this high estate, and even placed under the ban of the law as a\nvagabond and charlatan, the astrologer still continues to ply his trade\namong us with more or less success; and, unless we greatly err, the\ncraft even has an organ, called not too appropriately, \u201cThe Sphinx,\u201d as\nthe Sphinx has never been known to speak, even in riddles.\n\nPalmistry is the name now given to fortune-telling by means of the\nhand alone. Formerly there was no such distinction. After looking\nher client over, the fortune-teller of other days always based her\npredictions upon a careful scrutiny of the hand. Some careless\nhit-or-miss reference to the past, at first, such as \u201cyou have seen\ntrouble,\u201d usually preceded the unravelling of the future. The disciples\nof palmistry now claim for it something like what was earlier claimed\nfor phrenology and physiognomy. Every one knows that palmistry openly\nthrives in all large communities as a means of livelihood. How many\npractise it in private, no one can pretend to say, but the number is\ncertainly very large. It is a further fact that some surprising guesses\nat character now and then occur, but we must hold to the opinion that\nthey are still only guesses, nothing more.\n\n\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1] \u201cL\u2019Inconnu et les Problems Psychiques.\u201d\n\n[2] Wallington, \u201cHistorical Notices, Reign of Charles I.\u201d\n\n[3] Chap. 15, 32 v.\n\n[4] Candlemas Day (2 February) is observed as a festival day by the\nRoman Catholics, and still holds a place in the calendar of the\nEpiscopal Church. It is kept in memory of the purification of the\nVirgin, who presented the infant Jesus in the Temple. A number of\ncandles were lighted, it is said in memory of Simeon\u2019s song (Luke ii,\n32), \u201cA light to lighten the Gentiles.\u201d Hence the name of Candlemas.\nEdward VI. forbade the practice of lighting the churches in 1548.\n\n[5] See the ominous import of this farther on.\n\n[6] The white and purple spir\u00e6a.\n\n[7] For the ill omens of nosebleed, see Chapter ix.\n\n[8] It was commonly believed that the haddock bore the mark of St.\nPeter\u2019s thumb, ever since that saint took the tribute penny out of a\nfish of that species.\n\n[9] It is deemed lucky to be born with a caul or membrane over the\nface. In France _\u00eatre n\u00e9 coiff\u00e9e_ signifies that a person is extremely\nfortunate. It is believed to be an infallible protection against\ndrowning, and under that idea is frequently advertised for sale in the\nnewspapers and purchased by seamen. If bought by lawyers they become\nas eloquent as Demosthenes or Cicero, and thereby get a great deal of\npractice.--FIELDING.\n\n[10] Edward Winslow makes use of this word in speaking of an Indian\nwho had been taken prisoner at Plymouth, and confined in the fort\nnewly built there. \u201cSo he was locked in a chain to a staple in the\ncourt of guard and there kept. Thus was our fort handselled, this\nbeing the first day, as I take it, that ever any watch was there\nkept.\u201d--Winslow\u2019s \u201cRelation.\u201d\n\n[11] Mr. Coxe.\n\n[12] More concerning throwing the shoe will be found under \u201cMarriage.\u201d\n\n[13] Note the poetical reference in another chapter.\n\n[14] _Boston Transcript_, February 13, 1899.\n\n[15] In \u201cFarmer and Moore\u2019s Collections,\u201d i., 136.\n\n[16] Another way, laid down by some authorities, was that any unmarried\nwoman fasting on Midsummer Eve, and at midnight laying a clean cloth\nwith bread, cheese, and ale, and sitting down as if going to eat--the\nstreet door being left open--the person whom she is afterwards to marry\nwill come into the room and drink to her by bowing, afterwards fill the\nglass, make another bow, and retire.--_Fielding._\n\n[17] A reference to this is found in Cooper\u2019s \u201cSpy.\u201d\n\n[18] Quetelet, on the calculation of probabilities.\n\n[19] May Martin was made to touch the face of her dead child (murdered\nby her to prevent a discovery), the fresh blood came forth, \u201cwhereupon\nshe confessed.\u201d\n\n[20] For more about these places see \u201cNew England Legends.\u201d\n\n[21] Partly taken from Felt\u2019s \u201cAnnals of Ipswich,\u201d partly from the\nrelations of others.\n\n[22] The rule, as laid down by Cotton Mather in \u201cMore Wonders\u201d was\nthis: \u201cWhen there has been a murder committed, an apparition of the\nslain party accusing of any man, altho\u2019 such apparitions have oftner\nspoke true than false, is not enough to convict the man of that\nmurder; but yet it is a sufficient occasion for Magistrates to make a\nparticular inquiry,\u201d etc.\n\n[23] \u201cForty-one Years in India.\u201d\n\n[24] An apple bough also is made use of in some cases.\n\n[25] According to the prophecy in Joel ii, 10, and Matthew xxiv, 29,\nthen \u201cshall the sun be darkened, and the moon shall not give her light.\u201d\n\n[26] In \u201cNooks and Corners of the New England Coast.\u201d\n\n[27] For more about her, see \u201cNew England Legends and Folk-Lore.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n      *      *      *      *      *      *\n\n\n\nTranscriber's note:\n\nPunctuation and spelling were made consistent when a predominant\npreference was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.\n\nFrequent use of dialect and archaic spelling retained.\n\nSimple typographical errors were corrected. Occasional unmatched\nquotation marks were retained.\n\nAmbiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.\n\nPage 19: the closing quotation mark after \u201clost his head.\u201d has no\nmatching opening mark.","title":"The Myths and Fables of To-Day","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":45124}