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The Myths and Fables of To-Day
It is a fact that many good and worthy but, alas! too credulous people living along the New England coast, who believed themselves in danger from the destroying tidal wave, were thrown into a state of unspeakable agitation and alarm by this wicked prediction. Yet there was absolutely nothing to warrant it except the unsupported declaration of this one man, whom no one knew, and few had ever heard of. Yet some really believed, more half believed, and some who openly ridiculed the prediction apparently did so more to keep their courage up than from actual unbelief. So easy it is to arouse the fears of a community, who usually act first and reason afterward. I heard of one man who actually packed all his household goods in a wagon, so as to be ready to start off for higher ground upon the first signal of the approach of this much-dreaded rush of waters.
XIV
“SHIPS THAT PASS IN THE NIGHT”
“Songe est toujours mensonge,” says a French proverb; “Dreams go by contraries” says the English proverb, – that is, if you dream of the dead you will hear from the living. Who shall decide, where the collective wisdom of centuries is at such wide variance?
To put faith in the supposed revelations of a disordered or overheated brain seems, on the face of it, sheer absurdity, especially when we ourselves may induce dreaming merely by overindulgence in eating or drinking. Yet there are people who habitually dream when the brain is in its normal condition. This brings the question down to its simplest form, “What is a dream?” And there we halt.
That there is no end of theories concerning the measure of credit that should be given to dreams is readily accounted for. What nobody can explain every one is at liberty to have his own peculiar notions of. Perhaps the most curious thing about it is the proven fact that so many different people should dream precisely the same thing from time to time; so making it possible not only to classify and analyze dreams, but even to lay down certain interpretations, to be accepted by a multitude of believers. Of course it is easy to laugh at the incoherent fancies that flit through the debatable region we inhabit while asleep, but it is not so easy to explain why we laugh, or why we should dream of persons or events long since passed from our memories, or of other persons or events wholly unknown to us, either in the past or the present.
Without a doubt people dream just as much nowadays as they ever did. That fact being admitted, the problem for us to consider is, whether the belief in the prophetic character of dreams, held by so many peoples for so many centuries, having the unequivocal sanction, too, of Scripture authority, is really dying out, or continues to hold its old dominion over the minds of poor, fallible mankind. In order to determine this vexed question inquiry was made of several leading booksellers with the following result: Thirty or forty years ago dream books were as much a recognized feature of the book-selling trade as any other sort of literary property; consequently, they were openly exposed for sale in every bookstore, large or small. It now appears that these yellow-covered oracles of fate are still in good demand, mostly by servant girls and factory girls, and, though seldom found in the best bookstores, may be readily had of most dealers in cheap periodicals. This, certainly, would seem to be a gain in the direction of education, though not of the masses. It also appears that, as in the matter of “signs,” the female sex is more susceptible to this sort of superstition than is the male; but that by no means proves the sterner sex to be wholly free from it.
Some persons dream a great deal, others but seldom. Let one who is not much addicted to the habit have a bad dream, a frightful dream, and be he never so well poised, the phantasm can hardly fail of leaving a disquieting, perhaps a lasting, effect. Seldom, indeed, can that person shake off the feeling that the dream forbodes something of a sinister nature. In vain he racks his brain for some interpretation that may set his mind at rest, wholly forgetful of the trite adage that dreams go by contraries.
So often, indeed, do we hear the pregnant declaration, to wit: “Your old men shall dream dreams, your young men see visions,” that we have adopted it as a striking rhetorical figure of wide application. In Hamlet’s celebrated soliloquy upon the immortality of the soul, the melancholy Dane confesses to an overmastering fear of bad dreams. And once again, as if wrung from the very anguish of his sinful heart, Gloster cries out: “Oh, Catesby, I have had such horrid dreams!” And Catesby expostulates, “Shadows, my lord, below the soldiers seeming.” But Gloster thrusts aside the rebuke as he impetuously exclaims: “Now by my this day’s hopes, shadows to-night have struck more terror to the soul of Richard, than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers arm’d all in proof.”
We find that our own immediate ancestors were fully as credulous in regard to the importance of dreams, as affecting their lives and fortunes, as the ancients appear to have been. But with them it is true that Scripture warrant was accepted as all-sufficient. Just a few examples will suffice.
In the time of its disintegration, owing to the removal of some of its members to Connecticut, the church of Dorchester, Massachusetts, “did not reorganize on account of certain dreams and visions among the congregation.”
Under a certain date, Samuel Sewall sets down the fact that he has had disturbing dreams, which he, according to his wont, anxiously strives to interpret – he, of all men! – a magistrate, a councillor, and a ruler in the land. One dream was to the effect “that all my [his] children were dead except Sarah, which did distress me sorely with reflections on my omissions of duty towards them as well as breaking of the hopes I had of them.”
Shifting now the scene to half a century later, we find in the “Diary and Letters of Sarah Pierpont,” wife of the celebrated theologian, Jonathan Edwards, this letter, describing a singularly prophetic dream relative to her grandson, then an infant, Aaron Burr: —
“Stockbridge, May 10, 1756.“Dear Brother James: Your letters always do us good, and your last was one of your best. Have you heard of the birth of Esther’s second child, at Newark? It was born the sixth of February last, and its parents have named him Aaron Burr, Jr., after his father, the worthy President of the College. I trust the little immortal will grow up to be a good and useful man. But, somehow, a strange presentiment of evil has hung over my mind of late, and I can hardly rid myself of the impression that that child was born to see trouble.
“You know I don’t believe in dreams and visions; but lately I had a sad night of broken sleep, in which the future career of that boy seemed to pass before me. He first appeared as a little child, just beginning to ascend a high hill. Not long after he set out, the two guides who started with him disappeared one after the other. He went on alone, and as the road was open and plain, and as friends met him at every turn, he got along very well. At times he took on the air and bearing of a soldier, and then of a statesman, assuming to lead and control others. As he neared the top of the hill, the way grew more steep and difficult, and his companions became alienated from him, refusing to help him or be led by him. Baffled in his designs, and angered at his ill-success, he began to lay about him with violence, leading some astray, and pulling down others at every attempt to rise. Soon he himself began to slip and slide down the rough and perilous sides of the hill; now regaining his foothold for a little, then losing it again, until at length he stumbled and fell headlong down, down, into a black and yawning gulf at the base!
“At this, I woke in distress, and was glad enough to find it was only a dream. Now, you may make as much or as little of this as you please. I think the disturbed state of our country, along with my own indifferent health, must have occasioned it. A letter from his mother, to-day, assures me that her little Aaron is a lively, prattlesome fellow, filling his parents’ hearts with joy.
“Your loving sister,“Sarah.”Though “only a dream,” this vision of the night prefigured a sad reality, for within two years both of the “guides” had gone, President Burr in September, 1757, his wife in the same month of the next year, 1758.
Passing now down to our own day, the Rev. Walter Colton, sometime alcalde of Monterey, tells us, in his reminiscences of the gold excitement of 1849, that he dreamed of finding gold at a certain spot, had faith enough in his dream to seek for it in that place, and was rewarded by finding it there.
A mass of similar testimony might be adduced. One piece coming from a brave soldier, who will not be accused of harboring womanish fears, will bear repeating here. We again quote from that most interesting volume, “Forty-one Years in India.” Lord Roberts, its author, is speaking of his father, then a man close upon seventy.
“Shortly before his departure an incident occurred which I will relate for the benefit of psychological students; they may perhaps be able to explain it, I never could. My father had some time before issued invitations for a dance which was to take place in two days’ time, – on Monday, the 17th October, 1853. On the Saturday morning he appeared disturbed and unhappy, and during breakfast was despondent – very different from his usual bright and cheery self. On my questioning him as to the cause, he told me he had had an unpleasant dream – one which he had dreamt several times before, and which had always been followed by the death of a near relation. As the day advanced, in spite of my efforts to cheer him, he became more and more depressed, and even said he should like to put off the dance. I dissuaded him from taking this step for the time being; but that night he had the same dream again, and the next morning he insisted on the dance being postponed. It seemed rather absurd to disappoint our friends on account of a dream; there was, however, nothing for it but to carry out my father’s wishes, and intimation was accordingly sent to the invited guests. The following morning the post brought news of the sudden death of a half-sister at Lahore, with whom I had stayed on my way to Pashawar.”
A man is now living who ran away from the vessel in which he had shipped as a sailor before the mast, in consequence of dreaming for three nights in succession that the vessel would be lost. All the circumstances were related to me, with much minuteness of detail, by persons quite familiar with them at the time of their occurrence. The vessel was, in fact, cast away, and every one on board drowned, on the very night after she sailed; consequently the warning dream, by means of which the deserter’s life was saved, could hardly fail of leaving a deep and lasting impression upon the minds of all who knew the facts. The story has been told more at length elsewhere by the writer,26 as it came from the lips of a seafaring friend; and the hero of it is still pointed out to sceptics as a living example of the fact that —
“Coming events cast their shadows before.”Richard Mansfield, distinguished actor and playwright, has recently related in an interview a most interesting incident in his own career, which he declared himself wholly unable to account for. So much more credit attaches to the testimony of persons if known to the public even by name, that Mr. Mansfield’s experience has special value here. It is also a highly interesting fragment of autobiography.
Mr. Mansfield goes on to say that after leading a most precarious existence, in various ways, his discharge from Mr. D’Oyley Carte’s company brought on a crisis in his affairs. Reaching his poor lodgings in London, he soon fell into desperate straits, being soon forced to pawn what little he had for the means to keep body and soul together. He declares that he did not know which way to turn, and that the most gloomy forebodings overwhelmed him. We will now let him tell his own story in his own way: —
“This was the condition of affairs when the strange happening to which I have referred befell me. Retiring for the night in a perfectly hopeless frame of mind, I fell into a troubled sleep and dreamed dreams. Finally, toward morning, this apparent fantasy came to me. I seemed in my disturbed sleep to hear a cab drive up to the door as if in a great hurry. There was a knock, and in my dream I opened the door and found D’Oyley Carte’s yellow-haired secretary standing outside. He exclaimed: —
“‘Can you pack up and catch the train in ten minutes to rejoin the company?’
“‘I can,’ was the dreamland reply; there seemed to be a rushing about while I swept a few things into my bag; then the cab door was slammed, and we were off to the station.
“This was all a dream,” continued Mr. Mansfield; “but here is the inexplicable denouement. The dream was so vivid and startling that I immediately awoke with a strange, uncanny sensation, and sprang to my feet. It was six o’clock, and only bare and gloomy surroundings met my eye. On a chair rested my travelling bag, and through some impulse which I could not explain at the time and cannot account for now I picked it up and hurriedly swept into it the few articles that had escaped the pawnshop. It did not take me long to complete my toilet, and then I sat down to think.
“Presently, when I had reached the extreme point of dejection, a cab rattled up, there was a knock, and I opened the door. There stood D’Oyley Carte’s secretary, just as I saw him in my dreams. He seemed to be in a great flurry, and cried out: —
“‘Can you pack up and reach the station in ten minutes to rejoin the company?’
“‘I can,’ said I, calmly, pointing to my bag. ‘It is all ready, for I was expecting you.’
“The man was a little startled by this seemingly strange remark, but bundled me into the cab without further ado, and we hurried away to the station exactly in accord with my dream. That was the beginning of a long engagement, and, although I have known hard times since, it was the turning-point in my career. I have already said that I have no theories whatever in regard to the matter. I do not account for it. It is enough for me to know that I dreamed certain things which were presently realized in the exact order of the dream. Having no superstitions, it is impossible to philosophize over the occurrence. All I know is that everything happened just as I have stated it.”
Some of the hidden meanings attributed to dreams are elsewhere referred to. As the subject has a literature of its own, we need mention only a few of the more commonly accepted interpretations. Their name is legion.
To dream of a white horse is a certain presage of a death in the family.
To dream of a funeral is a sign that you will soon attend a wedding.
To dream of losing one’s teeth is ominous of some coming sorrow.
To dream of a snake is a token that you have an enemy.
Touching a dead body will prevent dreaming of it.
The same dream, occurring three nights in succession, will surely come to pass.
A slice of wedding-cake put under the pillow will cause an unmarried woman to dream of her future husband.
XV
FORTUNE-TELLING, ASTROLOGY, AND PALMISTRY
“I asked her of the way, which she informed me;Then craved my charity, and bade me hastenTo save a sister.” —Otway.One noticeable thing about certain forms of superstition is their general acceptance by the public at large, like certain moral evils, which it is felt to be an almost hopeless task to do away with. Other good, easy souls choose to ignore the presence of fortune-tellers, astrologers, palmists among their daily haunts. As a matter of fact, however, fortune-telling, astrology, and palmistry have become so fully incorporated with the everyday life of all large communities as to excite very little comment from the common run of us.
It certainly would astonish some people if they knew to what an extent these methods of hoodwinking the credulous, or weak-minded, continue to flourish in our large cities, without the least attempt at concealment or disguise. One need only look about him to see the signs of these shrewd charlatans everywhere staring him in the face, or run his eye over the columns of the daily papers to be convinced how far superstition still lives and thrives in the chosen strongholds of modern thought and modern scepticism. At fairs and social gatherings fortune-telling and palmistry have come to be recognized features, either as a means of raising funds for some highly deserving object, of course, or for the sake of the amusement they afford, at the expense of those well-meaning souls who do not know how to say no. To be sure, it has come to be thoroughly understood that no benevolent object whatsoever has a chance of succeeding nowadays without some sort of nickel-in-the-slot attachment, by which the delusion of getting something for your money is so clumsily kept up.
At fairs, for instance, it is not necessary that the oracle of fortune should speak. Time is saved and modern progress illustrated and enforced by having printed cards ready at hand to be impartially distributed to all applicants on the principle of first come, first served. As the victim receives his card, he laughs nervously, fidgets around a few minutes, goes aside into some quiet corner and furtively reads, “Fortune will be more favorable to you in future than it has been.”
Unwittingly, perhaps, yet none the less, has he paid his tribute to superstition, thus thriftily turned to account.
The penny-in-the-slot machines, so often seen in public places, tell fortunes with mechanical precision, and in the main, impartially, evident care being taken not to render the oracle unpopular by giving out disagreeable or alarming predictions. True, they are just a trifle ambiguous, but does not that feature exactly correspond with the traditional idea of the ancient oracle, which was nothing if not ambiguous? Here is a sample, “You will not become very rich, but be assured you will never want for anything.”
Fortune-telling also is openly carried on at all popular summer resorts, with considerable profit to the dealer in prophecies, who is generally an Indian woman. She is much consulted by young women, “just for the fun of the thing.” Roving bands of gypsies continue to do a more or less thriving business in the country towns. Character is unfolded or the future foretold by the color of the eyes, the length or breadth of the finger nails or of the eyebrows.
Telling fortunes by means of tea grounds is often practised at social gatherings.
“For still, by some invisible tetherScandal and tea are linked together.”It is done in this way: When drinking off the tea, the grounds are made to adhere to the sides of the tea-cup, by swiftly twirling it round and round. The cup is then inverted, turned thrice and no more, after which the spell is completed, and the mistress of the revels proceeds to tell the fortunes of those present, with neatness and despatch.
Time has worked certain marked changes in the method of practising this equivocal trade. The modern fortune-teller no longer inhabits a grewsome cavern, reached by a winding path among overhanging rocks, and choked with dank weeds, or goes about muttering to herself in an unknown tongue, or is clothed in rags. Far from it. She either occupies luxurious apartments in the best business section, or in a genteel up-town hotel, or dwells in a fashionable quarter of the town, and dresses à la mode. Nor are her clients by any means exclusively drawn from among the lowly and ignorant, as might be supposed, but more often come from the middle class of society; and, though consultations are had in a private manner, those who ply this trade do so without fear or disguise.
Of the thousand and one matters submitted to the dictum of fortune-tellers, those relating to love affairs or money matters are by much the most numerous. On this head just a few selections, taken at hazard from the advertising columns of a morning newspaper, perhaps will afford the best idea of the nature of the questions most commonly addressed to these disposers and dispensers of fate. One reads, “Mrs Blank: consult her on all business, domestic or love affairs. Unites separated parties.” A shrewd offer that! The next, who styles himself “Doctor” is an astrologer. He invites you to send him your sex, with date and hour of birth; or a full description. All matters, he naïvely declares, are alike to him. For the trifling matter of one dollar he promises “a full reading” – presumably of your horoscope. The next, a trance and business medium, professes to be able to tell the “name of future husband or wife, and all affairs of life.” Still another, after setting forth her own abilities in glowing colors, warns a trusting public, after the manner of all quacks, to beware of imitators.
As an indication to what extent these forms of superstition flourish, it would be vastly interesting to know just how many persons there are in the United States, for instance, who get their living by such means. Enough, perhaps, has been said to open the eyes of even the most sceptical on this point. We may add that the modern applicant for foreknowledge is not satisfied with the obscure generalizations of the ancient oracles. He or she demands a full and explicit answer, and will be satisfied with nothing less.
Moll Pitcher, of Lynn, who practised her art in the early part of the century, was the most famous, as she was by far the most successful, fortune-teller of her day. In fact, her reputation was world-wide, it having been carried to every port and clime by the masters and sailors, who never failed to consult her about the luck of the voyage. Her supposed knowledge of the future was also much drawn upon by the highly respectable owners themselves, who, however, possibly through deference to some secret qualms, generally made their visits at night, sometimes in disguise.27 Indeed, stories little short of marvellous are told of this cunning woman’s skill at divination, or luck at guessing, according as one may choose to look at the matter. Besides being the subject of the poet Whittier’s least-known verses, a long forgotten play was written with Moll Pitcher as its heroine, after the manner of Meg Merrilies, in Sir Walter Scott’s “Guy Mannering.”
From the earliest to the latest times, the astrologers have always claimed for their methods of divination the consideration due to established principles or incontrovertible facts. The court astrologer was once quite as much consulted as the court physician. Though fallen from this high estate, and even placed under the ban of the law as a vagabond and charlatan, the astrologer still continues to ply his trade among us with more or less success; and, unless we greatly err, the craft even has an organ, called not too appropriately, “The Sphinx,” as the Sphinx has never been known to speak, even in riddles.
Palmistry is the name now given to fortune-telling by means of the hand alone. Formerly there was no such distinction. After looking her client over, the fortune-teller of other days always based her predictions upon a careful scrutiny of the hand. Some careless hit-or-miss reference to the past, at first, such as “you have seen trouble,” usually preceded the unravelling of the future. The disciples of palmistry now claim for it something like what was earlier claimed for phrenology and physiognomy. Every one knows that palmistry openly thrives in all large communities as a means of livelihood. How many practise it in private, no one can pretend to say, but the number is certainly very large. It is a further fact that some surprising guesses at character now and then occur, but we must hold to the opinion that they are still only guesses, nothing more.
FOOTNOTES
Transcriber’s Notes
Punctuation and spelling were made consistent when a predominant preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.
Frequent use of dialect and archaic spelling retained.
Simple typographical errors were corrected. Occasional unmatched quotation marks were retained.
Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.
Page 19: the closing quotation mark after “lost his head.” has no matching opening mark.
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