Part 15 (1/2)
We now, for a change, have a religious marvel. Mrs. Zuil, 'a very judiciouse Christian,' had a friend of devout character. This lady, being in bed, and in 'a ravis.h.i.+ng frame,' 'observed a pleasant light, and one of the pleasantest forms, like a young child, standing on her shoulder'. Not being certain that she was not delirious, she bade her nurse draw her curtains, and bring her some posset. Thrice the nurse came in with posset, and thrice drew back in dread. The appearance then vanished, and for the fourth time the nurse drew the curtains, but, on this occasion, she presented the invalid with the posset. Being asked why she had always withdrawn before, she said she had seen 'like a boyn (halo?) above her mistress's head,' and added, 'it was her wraith, and a signe she would dye'. 'From this the lady was convinced that she was in no reverie.' A similar halo shone round pious Mr. Welsh, when in meditation, and also (according to Patrick Walker) round two of the Sweet Singers, followers of Meikle John Gibb, before they burned a Bible! Gibb, a raving fanatic, went to America, where he was greatly admired by the Red Indians, 'because of his much converse with the devil'. The pious of Wodrow's date distrusted these luminous appearances, as they might be angelical, but might also be diabolical temptations to spiritual pride. Thus the blasphemous followers of Gibb were surrounded by a bright light, no less than pious Mr. Welsh, a very distinguished Presbyterian minister.
Indeed, this was taken advantage of by Mr. Welsh's enemies, who, says his biographer Kirkton, 'were so bold as to call him no less than a wizard'. When Mr. s.h.i.+elds and Mr. John d.i.c.kson were imprisoned on the Ba.s.s Rock, and Mr. s.h.i.+elds was singing psalms in his cell, Mr. d.i.c.kson peeping in, saw 'a figure all in white,' of whose presence Mr. s.h.i.+elds was unconscious. He had only felt 'in a heavenly and elevated frame'.
A clairvoyant dream is recorded on the authority of 'Dr. Clerk at London, who writes on the Trinity, and may be depended on in such accounts'. The doctor's father was Mayor of Norwich, 'or some other town,' and a lady came to him, bidding him arrest a tailor for murdering his wife. The mayor was not unnaturally annoyed by this appeal, but the lady persisted. She had dreamed twice: first she saw the beginning of the murder, then the end of it. As she was talking to the mayor, the tailor came in, demanding a warrant to arrest his wife's murderers! He was promptly arrested, tried, and acquitted, but later confessed, and 'he was execut for the fact'.
This is a highly improbable story, and is capped by another from Wodrow's mother-in-law. A man was poisoned: later his nephew slept in his room, and heard a voice cry, 'Avenge the blood of your uncle'. This happened twice, and led to an inquiry, and the detection of the guilty. The nephew who received the warning was Sir John Clerk of Penicuik, ancestor of Sir Walter Scott's friend.
We next have a Mahatma-like tale about Cotton Mather, from Mr.
Stirling, who had it from a person who had it from the doctor's own mouth. Briefly, Cotton lost his sermon as he was riding to a place where he had to preach. He prayed for better luck, and 'no sooner was his prayer over, but his papers wer conveyed to him, flying in the air upon him when riding, which was very surprizing'. It was, indeed! Wodrow adds: 'Mind to write to the doctor about this'.
This letter, if he ever wrote it, is not in the three portly volumes of his correspondence.
The occurrence is more remarkable than the mysterious dispensation which enabled another minister to compose a sermon in his sleep.
Mr. James Guthrie, at Stirling, 'had his house haunted by the devil, which was a great exercise to worthy Mr. Guthrie,' and, indeed, would have been a great exercise to almost any gentleman. Details are wanting, and as Mr. Guthrie had now been hanged for sixty years (1723), the facts are 'remote'. Mr. Guthrie, it seems, was unpopular at Stirling, and was once mobbed there. The devil may have been his political opponent in disguise. Mr. John Anderson is responsible for the story of a great light seen, and a melodious sound heard over the house of 'a most singular Christian of the old sort,' at the moment of her death. Her name, unluckily, is uncertain.
A case of 'telepathy' we have, at first hand, from Mrs. Luke. When in bed 'a horror of darknes' came upon her about her daughter Martha, who was in Edinburgh. 'Sometimes she began to think that her daughter was dead, or had run away with some person.' She remained in this anxiety till six in the morning, when the cloud lifted. It turned out that Martha had been in some peril at sea, but got safe into Leith Roads at six in the morning. A clairvoyant dream was also vouchsafed to Dr. Pitcairn, though 'a Jacobite, and a person of considerable sense,' as Wodrow quaintly remarks about another individual.
The doctor was at Paris when a friend of his, 'David' (surname unknown), died in Edinburgh. The doctor dreamed for several nights running that David came to him, and that they tried to enter several taverns, which were shut. David then went away in a s.h.i.+p. As the doctor was in the habit of frequenting taverns with David, the dreams do not appear to deserve our serious consideration. To be sure David 'said he was dead'. 'Strange vouchsafments of Providence to a person of the doctor's temper and sense,' moralises Wodrow.
Curiously enough, a different version of Dr. Pitcairn's dream is in existence. Several anecdotes about the doctor are prefixed, in ma.n.u.script, to a volume of his Latin poems, which was shown to Dr.
Hibbert by Mr. David Laing, the well-known historian and antiquarian. Dr. Hibbert says: 'The anecdotes are from some one obviously on terms of intimacy with Pitcairn'. According to this note Robert Lindsay, a descendant of Sir David Lindsay of the Mount, was at college with the doctor. They made the covenant that 'whoever dyed first should give account of his condition if possible'. This was in 1671, in 1675 Lindsay died, while Pitcairn was in Paris. On the night of Lindsay's death, Pitcairn dreamed that he was in Edinburgh, where Lindsay met him and said, 'Archie, perhaps ye heard I'm dead?' 'No, Roben.' The vision said he was to be buried in the Grey Friars, and offered to carry Pitcairn to a happy spiritual country, 'in a well sailing small s.h.i.+p,' like Odysseus.. Pitcairn said he must first see his parents. Lindsay promised to call again. 'Since which time A. P. never slept a night without dreaming that Lindsay told him he was alive. And, having a dangerous sickness, anno 1694, he was told by Roben that he was delayed for a time, and that it was properly his task to carry him off, but was discharged to tell when.' {300} Dr. Hibbert thinks that Pitcairn himself dictated this account, much more marvellous than the form in which Wodrow received the story.
Leaving a solitary Jacobite vision, for a true blue Presbyterian 'experience,' we learn that Wodrow's own wedded wife had a pious vision, 'a glorious, inexpressible brightness'. The thought which came presently was, 'This perhaps may be Satan, transforming himself into an angel of light'. 'It mout or it moutn't.' In 1729, Wodrow heard of the ghost of the Laird of Coul, which used to ride one of his late tenants, transformed into a spectral horse. A chap-book containing Coul's discourse with Mr. Ogilby, a minister, was very popular in the last century. Mr. Ogilby left an account in ma.n.u.script, on which the chap-book was said to be based. Another ghost of a very moral turn appeared, and gave ministers information about a case of lawless love. This is said to be recorded in the registers of the Presbytery of Fordoun, but Wodrow is vague about the whole affair.
We next come to a very good ghost of the old and now rather unfas.h.i.+onable sort. The authority is Mr. William Brown, who had it from the Rev. Mr. Mercer of Aberdalgie, 'as what was generally belived as to Dr. Rule, Princ.i.p.al at Edinburgh'. Such is Wodrow's way, his ideas of evidence are quite rudimentary. Give him a ghost, and he does not care for 'contemporary record,' or 'corroborative testimony'. To come to the story. Dr. Rule, finding no room at an inn near Carnie Mount, had a fire lit in a chamber of a large deserted house hard by. He went to bed, leaving a bright fire burning, when 'the room dore is opened, and an apparition, _in shape of a country tradsman_, came in, and opened the courtains without speaking a word'. The doctor determined not to begin a conversation, so the apparition lighted the candles, brought them to the bedside, and backed to the door. Dr. Rule, like old Brer Rabbit, 'kept on a-saying nothing'. 'Then the apparition took an effectuall way to raise the doctor. He caryed back the candles to the table, and, _with the tongs_, took doun the kindled coals, and laid them on the deal chamber floor.' Dr. Rule now 'thought it was time to rise,' and followed the appearance, who carried the candles downstairs, set them on the lowest step, and vanished. Dr. Rule then lifted the candles, and went back to bed. Next morning he went to the sheriff, and told him there 'was murder in it'. The sheriff said, 'it might be so,' but, even if so, the crime was not recent, as the house for thirty years had stood empty. The step was taken up, and a dead body was found, 'and bones, to the conviction of all'. The doctor then preached on these unusual events, and an old man of eighty fell a-weeping, confessing that, as a mason lad, he had killed a companion, and buried him in that spot, while the house was being built. Consequently the house, though a new one, was haunted from the first, and was soon deserted. The narrator, Mr.
Mercer, had himself seen two ghosts of murdered boys frequently in Dundee. He did not speak, nor did they, and as the rooms were comfortable he did not leave them. To have talked about the incident would only have been injurious to his landlady. 'The longer I live, the more unexpected things I meet with, and even among my own relations,' says Mr. Wodrow with much simplicity. But he never met with a ghost, nor even with any one who had met with a ghost, except Mr. Mercer.
In the same age, or earlier, Increase Mather represents apparitions as uncommonly scarce in New England, though diabolical possession and witchcraft were as familiar as influenza. It has been shown that, in nearly forty years of earnest collecting, Mr. Wodrow did not find a single supernatural occurrence which was worth investigating by the curious. Every tale was old, or some simple natural cause was at the bottom of the mystery, or the narrative rested on vague gossip, or was a myth. Today, at any dinner party, you may hear of bogles and wraiths at first or at second hand, in an abundance which would have rejoiced Wodrow. Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe vainly brags, in Law's Memorialls, that 'good sense and widely diffused information have driven our ghosts to a few remote castles in the North of Scotland' (1819). But, however we are to explain it, the ghosts have come forth again, and, like golf, have crossed the Tweed. Now this is a queer result of science, common- sense, cheap newspapers, popular education, and progress in general.
We may all confess to a belief in ghosts, because we call them 'phantasmogenetic agencies,' and in as much of witchcraft as we style 'hypnotic suggestion'. So great, it seems, is the force of language! {303}
THE LOGIC OF TABLE-TURNING
Bias in belief. Difficulty of examining problems in which unknown personal conditions are dominant. Comte Agenor de Gasparin on table-turning. The rise of modern table-turning. Rapping. French examples. A lady bitten by a spirit. Flying objects. The 'via media' of M. de Gasparin. Tables are turned by recondite physical causes: not by muscular or spiritual actions. The author's own experiments. Motion without contact. Dr. Carpenter's views.
Incredulity of M. de Gasparin as to phenomena beyond his own experience. Ancient Greek phenomena. M. de Gasparin rejects 'spirits'. Dr. Carpenter neglects M. de Gasparin's evidence.
Survival and revival. Delacourt's case. Home's case. Simon Magus.
Early scientific training. Its results. Conclusion.
While reason is fondly supposed to govern our conduct, and direct our conclusions, there is no doubt that our opinions are really regulated by custom, temperament, hope, and fear. We believe or disbelieve because other people do so, because our character is attracted to, or repelled by the unusual, the mysterious; because, from one motive or another, we wish things to be thus, or fear that they may be thus, or hope that they may be so, and cannot but dread that they are otherwise. Again, the laws of Nature which have been ascertained are enough for the conduct of life, and science constantly, and with excellent reason, resists to the last gasp every attempt to recognise the existence of a new law, which, after all, can apparently do little for the benefit of mankind, and may conceivably do something by no means beneficial. Again, science is accustomed to deal with constant phenomena, which, given the conditions, will always result. The phenomena of the marvellous are not constant, or, rather, the conditions cannot be definitely ascertained. When Mr. Crookes made certain experiments on Home's power of causing a balance to move without contact he succeeded; in the presence of some Russian savants a similar experiment failed.
Granting that Mr. Crookes's tests were accurate (and the lay mind, at least, can see no flaw in them), we must suppose that the personal conditions, in the Russian case, were not the same.
Now an electric current will inevitably do its work, if known and ascertained conditions are present; a personal current, so to speak, depends on personal conditions which are unascertainable. It is inevitable that science, accustomed to the invariable, should turn away from phenomena which, if they do occur, seem, so far, to have a will of their own. That they have a will of their own is precisely their attraction for another cla.s.s of minds, which recognises in them the action of unknown intelligences. There are also people who so dislike our detention in the prison house of old unvarying laws, that their bias is in favour of anything which may tend to prove that science, in her contemporary mood, is not infallible. As the Frenchman did not care what sort of scheme he invested money in, 'provided that it annoys the English,' so many persons do not care what they invest belief in, provided that it irritates men of science. Just as rationally, some men of science denounce all investigation of the abnormal phenomena of which history and rumour are so full, because the research may bring back distasteful beliefs, and revive the 'ancestral tendency' to superst.i.tion. Yet the question is not whether the results of research may be dangerous, but whether the phenomena occur. The speculations of Copernicus, of Galileo, of the geologists, of Mr. Darwin, were 'dangerous,' and it does not appear that they have added to the sum of human delight. But men of science are still happiest when denouncing the 'obscurantism' of those who opposed Copernicus, Mr.
Darwin, and the rest, in dread of the moral results. We owe the strugforlifeur of M. Daudet to Mr. Darwin and Mr. Alfred Wallace, and the strugforlifeur is as dangerous and disagreeable as the half- crazy spiritualist. Science is only concerned with truth, not with the mischievous inferences which people may draw from truth. And yet certain friends of science, quite naturally and normally, fall back on the att.i.tude of the opponents of Copernicus: 'These things,' they say, 'should not even be examined'.
Such are the hostile and distracting influences, the contending currents, in the midst of which Reason has to operate as well as she can. Meanwhile every one of us probably supposes himself to be a model of pure reason, and if people would only listen to him, the measure of the universe. This happy and universal frame of mind is agreeably ill.u.s.trated in a work by the late Comte Agenor de Gasparin, Les Tables Tournantes (Deuxieme edition: Levy, Paris, 1888). The first edition is of 1854, and was published at a time of general excitement about 'table-turning' and 'spirit-rapping,' an excitement which only old people remember, and which it is amazing to read about.
Modern spirit-rapping, of which table-turning is a branch, began, as we know, in 1847-48. A family of Methodists named Fox, entered, in 1847, on the tenancy of a house in Hydesville, in the State of New York. The previous occupants had been disturbed by 'knocking,' this continued in the Fox regime, one of the little girls found that the raps would answer (a discovery often made before) a system of alphabetic communication was opened, and spiritualism was launched.
{307} In March, 1853, a packet of American newspapers reached Bremen, and, as Dr. Andree wrote to the Gazette d'Augsbourg (March 30, 1853), all Bremen took to experiments in turning tables. The practice spread like a new disease, even men of science and academicians were puzzled, it is a fact that, at a breakfast party in Macaulay's rooms in the Albany, a long and heavy table became vivacious, to Macaulay's disgust, when the usual experiment was tried. Men of science were, in some cases, puzzled, in others believed that a new force must be recognised, in others talked of unconscious pus.h.i.+ng or of imposture. M. Babinet, a member of the Inst.i.tute, writing in the Revue des Deux Mondes (May, 1854), explained the 'raps' or percussive noises, as the result of ventriloquism! A similar explanation was urged, and withdrawn, in the case of the c.o.c.k Lane ghost, and it does not appear that M.
Babinet produced a ventriloquist who could do the trick. Raps may be counterfeited in many ways, but hardly by ventriloquism. The raps were, in Europe, a later phenomenon than the table-turning, and aroused far more interest. The higher clergy investigated the matter, and the Bishop of Mans in a charge, set down the phenomena to the agency of some kind of spirits, with whom Christian men should have no commerce. Granting the facts, the bishop was undeniably right.
There was published at that time a journal called La Table Parlante, which contained recitals of phenomena, correspondence, and so forth.